Happy FoX Friday, my lovelies. We have a brand new FoX with us today. Please welcome Brenda Margriet!

Brenda will tell you that she writes contemporary romances with heroes you’d meet at the grocery store. And by that she means real-life men – sexy, smart and looking for the love of their life. Her heroines are bold, savvy and determined to accept nothing less than the man they deserve.

A voracious reader since she was old enough to hold a book, Brenda’s idea of the perfect holiday involves a comfortable chair near the water (ocean, lake or pool will do), a glass of wine, and a full-loaded e-reader.

She lives in Northern British Columbia with her husband, three children (all of whom are taller than her) and various funny and furry pets.

Brenda is here with her wonderful new release, When Time Falls Still.

Professor Charlotte Girardet is focused on one thing – securing tenure at a large, prestigious university.

 Her career is firmly on track, but her life is complicated by her attraction to rough and rugged security guard Justice Cooper. It isn’t only Charlotte’s heart in danger, however. Tensions blaze on campus after several students are viciously attacked.

 Struggling to balance her ambitions and her growing passion, Charlotte takes a leap of faith, and trusts Justice with her deepest secret. But when the assailant’s attacks escalate to kidnapping, will Charlotte have the chance to decide between her long-held dreams or a new life with Justice?

I asked Brenda a few questions, just so you could get to know her a little better.

What is the most romantic gesture you’ve ever received?

I tell my husband that the most romantic thing he does for me is take out the garbage. I’m only sort of joking. For me, a romantic gesture doesn’t have to be the grand, running-through-the-rain-in-a-movie moment. A bouquet of flowers from the grocery store, offering to order take out after a busy day at work. That’s enough romance for me.

But to answer the true spirit of your question, the most romantic (and mysterious) thing that’s ever happened to me was receiving bouquets of flowers from a secret admirer. My husband-to-be and I were dating at the time, and he swears up and down to this day it wasn’t him. The last bouquet I received had a note on it that said “Meet me at our special place” – and as I had no idea who was sending me the flowers I didn’t know where he meant! I still wonder every once in a while who I may have left standing all alone.

Wow! I think you need to write that into one of your novels. =) Name some of your favorite authors who do not write romance.

I have so many favourite authors! But when I read this question, the first two names that came to mind were Robert B. Parker and Dick Francis. Both are unfortunately no longer with us, but I read their stories over and over again with the same enjoyment as the first time. Both wrote mysteries, with a hefty dose of action, and while they are certainly not romances they both wrote strong female characters. Robert B. Parker in his Spenser series, wrote an especially unique, enduring love story between Spenser and Susan, and my favourite Dick Francis novels have a healthy dose of romantic intrigue.

Sounds like I need to add them to my TBR list. Tell me your favorite pick up line, and did it work on you or for you?

Uh, I don’t think I can answer this one. I can’t remember ever using or being on the receiving end of a pick up line! Now I feeling a bit sad about that. I guess that might what happens when you meet your happily-ever-after at nineteen.  I do remember being at a party once and having a guy say to me “You’ve got a crooked smile. I love crooked smiles.” But since those were the only words he spoke to me I don’t think that counts.

Lucky girl! Though, you have to admit, that’s a great line. What writing rituals help to get your mojo flowing so you can write?

I’m more of a carrot and stick writer. There are very few days that I feel like writing, but I know I will feel worse if I don’t write, so that motivates me. I also have a daily quota. It’s only 500 words, but I can only write in the evenings after my day job, so most days that is more than enough.  I suppose you could say one of my rituals is washing the dinner dishes—I simply can’t sit down to write knowing the kitchen is a mess. I have to clean that up first!

I can relate to that. I find it difficult to write amidst clutter. What was the nicest comment or most interesting question you’ve received from a reader?

The best comment I ever received was from my sister. I even saved a screen shot of the text she sent because it meant so much to me. I was so thrilled she’d even wanted to read it, so when she liked it I was over the moon!

Wow, I would be too! =)

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You can catch up with Brenda on her website, Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter, Goodreads, and on Amazon.

Brenda brought along an excerpt from When Time Falls Still. Let’s check it out!

Charlotte braced herself against the motion of the elevator, but not before her breasts, protected only by thin fabric and thinner lace, brushed Justice’s chest. He was standing so close she felt overwhelmed. Not intimidated—he didn’t scare her—just…swamped by his nearness.

Or maybe it was the heat in his eyes.

Ocean depths had nothing on the blueness searing into her, she thought wildly. Vertigo weakened her knees, but she couldn’t look away.

“I—” She broke off, swallowed, and tried again. “I don’t know what to say.” He toyed with the end of her braid, and she swore she could feel the touch of his fingers fizzle up the strands, down her spine and into the soles of her feet.

“Did you honestly think I wasn’t attracted to you?” His voice rumbled, low and sexy.

The doors slid open. Thank God the hallway was empty. Her legs felt disconnected from her body, but she managed not to stumble. She unlocked her office, seeking refuge inside. Justice followed.

“Charlotte?”

He wasn’t going to let it go. Perseverance was his greatest strength—and his most irritating habit, she thought peevishly. “I threw myself at you and you walked away.”

“I just about took you up against your front door.” Frustration coloured his tone. He scrubbed his hands over his close-cropped head.

“Fine. Maybe you were right.” She lifted her satchel off her shoulder and tossed it into a nearby chair. “Maybe I wasn’t thinking clearly enough.”

“Maybe.” He crossed his ankles and leaned against the wall, the casual stance belying the tension evident in the fists jammed in his pockets, the set of his shoulders. “Now what?”

“I don’t know.” The collar of his uniform jacket had kinked up on one side. Without thinking, she stepped forward to smooth it down. He caught her hand and held it. Her fingers curled into his.

The connection felt good. It felt right. Maybe she should stop thinking altogether, and just go with her gut.

She never did that. She planned and researched and debated and planned some more. Trying to regain her equilibrium, she tugged away and escaped behind her desk.

“Let’s look at this rationally,” she said. His scarred eyebrow arched and amusement flickered in his face, but she battled on. “We are both healthy, single adults. For some reason, we seem to have strong physical chemistry.”

“Some reason?” The amusement was uppermost, now. His lips remained firm and straight, but she could see it in his eyes, as usual.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are not the kind of man I ever thought I’d be attracted to.”

​He lowered his lids and regarded her through narrow slits. “Right back at you.”

She bristled, but took her own advice and let it go. “Regardless, we could take advantage of this mutual appeal.”

“There’s the professor I know and…admire,” he murmured.

She ignored the sarcasm. “I’m only here for a few more months.” The exam today was the last she needed to invigilate. As soon as they were marked and the results submitted, she was flying out to spend Christmas with Sonny and family, returning a few days before the start of the winter session. “Are you in any of my classes next semester?”

He shook his head, watching her closely.

“Would you consider a short-term, exclusive relationship, with a predefined end date?” There, she thought. That sounded mature, sensible. No need to let emotions colour what promised to be a satisfying adult affair.

He straightened from the wall, looming to his full height. “Would this so-called relationship be strictly physical? Or could it involve social aspects as well?”

Once again, she sensed an underlying current of laughter, but she ignored it. “I can’t see why not.”

“And it would come to an end the same time as your contract?”

“Or earlier, of course, should either of us find it no longer meets our needs.”

“I thought English professors were supposed to be romantic.”

Romance. Love. That’s what hurt you. Sex, on the other hand, was just sex. “Not all of us.”

Don’t you want to devour this story right now? Luckily, you can. Grab a copy of When Time Falls Still from Amazon and on Brenda’s website.

See you next time!
XiO oxo