Interview with contemporary romance author Emelle Gamble

Today’s guest is contemporary romance author Emelle Gamble who is on tour with her novel, Dating Cary Grant.

Emelle will be awarding a $50 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn commenter during this tour and the Reviews Tour. A digital copy of Dating Cary Grant will be awarded to 5 randomly drawn commenters also during this tour and the Reviews Tour.

To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit other tour stops and leave comments there, too.  

Bio:

Emelle Gamble became a writer at an early age. At six years old she was bursting with the requisite childhood stories of introspection, and this itch to tell tales evolved into bad teen poetry and tortured short works that, thankfully,  never saw the light of day, or an editor’s red pen. She took her first stab at writing a novel  in an adult education class in Mobile,  Alabama when her kids were in bed for the night. As ‘M.L. Gamble,’ she published several romantic suspense novels with Harlequin Intrigue.

Soul Mate Publishing has now contracted for two romantic women’s fiction novels,  Secret Sister, in July of 2013, and Dating Cary Grant, an April 2014 release.

Always intrigued by the words ‘what if’, Gamble’s books feature an ordinary woman confronted with an extraordinary situation.  Emelle celebrates the adventurous spirit of readers, and hopes each will enjoy the exciting and surprising journeys her characters take. 

Emelle lives in suburban Washington D.C.  with her hero of thirty years, Philip,  and two orange cats, Lucy and Bella. Like all good villains, the cats claim to have their reasons for misbehaving. Her children are happily launched on their own and are both contributing great things to society, their mother’s fondest wish. Emelle welcomes any reader interested in emailing her at emellegamble@gmail.com  and hopes they will visit her website, or her author Facebook page.

Welcome, Emelle. Please tell us about your current release.

Dating Cary Grant is one of those book ideas I had for years and just couldn’t shake. I adore old movies, in particular Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart movies, so the classic The Philadelphia Story  is heaven for me because it stars all three. I thought of this film  several times as a good reflecting point for couples who are having trouble compromising their individual hopes and dreams once they marry. And then I thought what fun it would be to actually use this film idea, complete with a ghostly appearance by a couple of matinee idols, to help my modern heroine, Tracy Connor, deal with her shaky marriage.

What inspired you to write this book?

A dear friend. She seemed to be searching for ‘Mr. Perfect’ while I, a wise old married woman for the last thirty something years, knew there was no such thing. So I thought I’d write a book for her. No, I won’t tell you her name. 

Excerpt:

            The vibration went right through the door into her forehead. She yelped and stepped back, just like the other night, but this time, thankfully, the lock was engaged.

“Hello? Sorry if I startled you.”

A man!

She was sure from the silhouette it was the same man as the other night. Tracy stared at the door, immobile with surprise. She cleared her throat and put her right hand over her heart, as if that would slow the galloping beat.

The man knocked again. “I don’t want to be a bother, but I’ve come to borrow ice cubes, if you have them. It’s quite a catastrophe, really, having no ice, so you can save the day if you have a tray or two to spare.”

His voice was smart and cultured. He had the accent of an Englishman by birth and world traveler by experience.

He chuckled and tapped gently. “Why don’t you come downstairs and have a drink, for that matter? If you’re decent, of course. Or even if you’re not. Come on. Shy, are you? Don’t be afraid, I promise I’m a perfect gentleman this time of night.”

“Yes, hello,” Tracy surprised herself by replying. “But I’m sorry, I don’t have any ice cubes. Sorry.” What a pinhead. Apologizing when I have no reason to, like the woman on the bike pointed out. 

“No ice cubes? You poor darling You must come downstairs with me. I’ll steal some for you from the party. Right out of someone’s glass. It might be rude, but, well, I’m willing to be rude in times of crisis. No girl with a voice as lovely as yours should be without ice cubes on a Saturday night. What if she fancied a cocktail?”

Tracy grinned. “Actually it’s Sunday morning. About three-thirty, as a matter of fact. And I certainly can’t come out, as I’m dressed for bed, and it’s too early for me to be drinking a cocktail.”

“Early? That’s all in the way you look at it, my dear.” The door creaked as the visitor leaned his weight against it. “To my way of thinking, three-thirty is the very heart of the evening. Why don’t you join me and my friends? What do you say?”

Tracy peered through the stained glass but could only make out a vague figure of a man in a dark suit. But his voice was amazing. If he looked half as hot as he sounded, then the neighborhood was an even more intriguing one than she had expected.

Should I open the door to get a look at this guy? She glanced down at the white tee shirt and pink socks she’d been sleeping in. The shirt was Mike’s. Suddenly the image of her husband filled her head. Tracy crossed her arms over her chest.

“Thanks, but no. Sorry.” She grimaced. Good lord, I am pathetic. “Goodnight.” Her voice was firm. “I’m going back to sleep now. Have a nice party.”

“All right. But next time I’ll stay here until you come out and meet me properly,” the man replied. “I’ll go downstairs like a good boy so you can go back to bed. Although you don’t sound like you need it, you’ve got a few hours to get your beauty sleep. Good night, Miss . . .?”

It’s Mrs.

“Connor,” she said. “Tracy Connor.”

“Sleep tight, Tracy Connor.”

She listened to his footsteps as he walked down the two flights of stairs. She heard a door open, voices louder than before, then nothing. She pressed her ear against the wood but outside it was silent.

“The party must be over.” Tracy collapsed on the sofa, wondering what would have happened if she’d opened the door.

She wasn’t sure.

Though one thing was certain.

That guy didn’t sound like he’d ever stand a woman up for black flies.                               

What exciting story are you working on next?

I am doing a reunion story that plays quite a lot with memory, just what it is we remember, and what we think we remember. Its working title is KISS ME ONCE AGAIN in homage of that great old classic song by Jules Styne and Sammy Cahn, It’s Been a Long, Long Time. 

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

The first time I picked up a pencil. Not kidding. Always want to tell stories to myself and to others.

Do you write full-time? If so, what's your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?

I do have a day job. And if I told you about it, I’d have to kill you. HA! (Sorry, I’ve always wanted to use that line.) So I find time to write BECAUSE I MUST! That’s only a little bit of an overstatement. Writers do write because they have to or those stories inside would burst their heads open. How do I work writing into my life?  I am married to an incredibly unselfish and caring man who wants me to succeed as much as I want to, so he gives up our nights and about 16 hours of our weekends so I can sit at my desk. I make it up to him though. Really. No, I can’t tell you how for fearing of scarring my children for life. 

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

Interesting question. I use red pen on my critique partners’ chapters. Interesting may not be the word they’d use. Channeling my inner teacher, I guess. And I use red pen on my stuff too, which I always print out in hard copy for a final edit.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

A horse (Specifically Fury.). A writer. An archeologist.(National Geo’s issue on King Tut sent me here.) A writer. An actress! (I grew up in LA, this is required.) An airline stewardness. (Do not judge me, I liked the uniforms.) A writer. A mother. A wife. A writer. I got to be almost everything I ever really wanted to be. Color me blessed.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?

I love you. Not kidding. It’s been humbling to me to get to know readers through blogs like yours, Lisa, and through Facebook and email. Thanks for reaching out. Special thanks to all of you who leave reviews. It doesn’t even matter if you don’t like something (well, okay it matters, but I don’t hold it against you), it is very helpful and kind any time you make an effort to let us know what you think. So thank you!

Here are some links to my works: 

Secret Sister by Emelle Gamble
Once and Forever by Emelle Gamble and others (anthology)
Duets by Emelle Gamble
Molly Harper by Emelle Gamble
Molly Harper (paperback) by Emelle Gamble  

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You’re welcome, Emelle. Thank you for being here today. Happy writing!

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