1. Tell us about your newest release.
"Then, One Frozen Christmas Eve" is part of a collection of holiday theme stories from Breathless Press. On a freezing cold Christmas Eve, a lonely heating technician rescues a woman from freezing to death due to her furnace breaking down. When he discovers she has no other place to go, he invites her to stay with him until repairs can be completed. Things heat up between them.
2. What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your story?
That any encounter between a man and woman can lead to a romantic connection. Exotic locations are not a requirement. I started out with a simple premise of a broken furnace on Christmas Eve. The story just kept building.
3. Do you have any interesting or quirks or rituals?
Steven King says a writer has to face a blank wall. I need to look out a window. I have to give myself permission to simply stare at the outside world to quiet my mind for writing.
4. What authors or friends influenced you in helping you become a writer?
My wife has bee n a great influence, mostly by not protesting. If she had said, "That's a wastes of time, you'll never be successful at that", I wouldn't be doing it.. She doesn't care to read my work, and I'm okay with that. I did get her down on the floor laughing at a scene in a short work I wrote a while back. I thought I'd really made it as a writer if I could do that.
5. What does your family think about your career as a published author?
I publish under a pen name. If my family, friends and associates knew of my interest in writing erotica, they'd drop dead in horror. I really don't want or need their approval to feel like a successful writer. In fact, it would be kind of a burden.
6. Besides writing, what other interests do you have?
I am a handyman, an inventor, and web videographer. These days I take much more pleasure in reading. I am a foodie. I especially like grilled food. I think I'd cook meat on the grill every day of the year if my wife would allow it. One of my inventions is a grill that uses less charcoal than conventional grills.
7. Can you tell us what is coming up next for you?
I have a novella coming out next year from Breathless Press called, "The Substitute." It's another one of my tradesmen tales, this time about a union plumber who risks his career by substituting for an injured friend who owns a non-union plumbing business. His world is turned upside down when he shows up for the first assignment and discovers the client is expecting sex and not plumbing services. It's fun, funny and tender .
8. How can readers connect with you online?
I can be reached through my website: http://www.fictionbyspencer.com/
on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomspencer_dryden
On a freezing cold Christmas Eve, a broken furnace unites a lonely heating technician and his client who is forced out of her home.
On a snowy, frigid Christmas Eve in Minnesota, a heating technician makes an emergency call to a townhome without heat. Don is unable to repair the unit and tells Becky, the occupant, she must vacate the premises and stay in a hotel for her own safety. Becky breaks down and tells Don she has no money and no place to go. She has no friends or family locally and has maxed out her credit cards relocating from San Diego. Don invites her to stay with him until the furnace can be replaced.
Don is smitten by her good looks and warm, inviting manor. He begins to fantasize about a romantic connection, but is restrained by a crippling fear of his sexual inadequacy. Safe at his apartment, Becky turns up the heat on the shy divorcee. Can she melt his fears of intimacy and give him an unforgettable Christmas?
It was more than the combination of fear and hope in her eyes. I see that all the time as a heating and cooling technician. It was something else. Something erotic that made my cock stir as I stepped into her chilly townhome. My cock was buried under three layers of warm clothing—it was twenty-four cock-shrinking degrees below zero outside—but there had always been a path from eyes to cock. Usually it was a luscious pair of breasts pouring from a peek-a-boob shirt, or a firm, round ass that flashed the go code from eyes to groin. All fair-weather sightings. She was so deeply layered in mismatched clothing there was no sign of her sexuality, except for her sparkling blue eyes that quickly changed from fearful to full of mirth and a hint of lust. They were stroking my cock.
This surreal moment had been orchestrated by mother nature, who decided on December 23 to dump a paralyzing thirty inches of snow on Minneapolis, followed the next day, Christmas Eve, by an artic blast locals call a Polar Vortex. It drags extremely cold air directly from the North Pole. This isn't the cold of some cutesy Hallmark Channel romance movie where a couple trapped in quaint cabin by a winter snow rekindle an old love between commercials for Viagra and pain relievers. This is bone-chilling, mind-numbing, dangerous cold, where just a few minutes of unprotected exposure causes severe frostbite. It's one of the reasons we native Minnesotans aren't all that fashionable six months out of the year. We'd rather be warm than look hot.
My employer, a big heating and air-conditioning contractor, had cancelled all Christmas vacation requests the minute the snow started flying. Didn't matter. The airport and interstate highways were closed. Without a four-wheel drive tank like my service truck, negotiating city streets was difficult, if not impossible.
Heating systems were failing due to the extreme conditions. It made the cash register ring for my employer. As much as I hated it, the crisis offered me lots of overtime, earning pay at time and a half. I even volunteered to be on call for Christmas Day, which paid triple time. I didn't have anywhere else to go anyhow. My wife left me for my best ex-friend Ray six months ago. Sometimes in the quiet of the evening, I still heard her gasping in ecstasy as I came through the front door. I was home early, only to find her beneath Ray, her legs splayed wide as he rammed her furiously. She never made that kind of joyful noise when we made love. It took my breath and my heart. I had turned on my heel and walked out.
Spencer Dryden is a new writer, but an old guy on the threshold of draining any reserves left in Medicare and Social Security. In real life he is a handyman, an at-home dad, inventor, and web videographer, living a quiet life in the frozen tundra of Minnesota (USA).
He earned an MBA from a prestigious Midwestern university, but is so far behind on the career earnings scale of his peers that the university has offered to refund his tuition if he will return his diploma and disavow his affiliation, lest he continue to denigrate the school's impeccable brand.
His first book, a novella, Bliss was published in April of 2014 in the Covert line at Breathless Press. It is a story of a woman's struggle with sexual shame. Press.http://www.breathlesspress.com/index.php?main_page=product_free_shipping_info&cPath=26&products_id=559
He can be reached at multiple locations:
Check out his website: http://www.fictionbyspencer.com/
He's on Google + : https://plus.google.com/+SpencerDryden
Tweet Him at: @SpencerDryden
He is a regular contributor to the multiauthor blog, Oh Get A Grip: http://ohgetagrip.blogspot.com
And Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008150288001
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