Guest Author Lillian Grant

The Strange Things that Inspire

Have you ever wanted to ask an author where they got an idea for a book?  Sometimes it might be better you don’t know…no amount of therapy could fix you once the truth was revealed. However, I think your minds will be safe if I share where the inspiration for my latest book care from. Really, trust me.

‘They’ always say ‘write what you know’ but for many of us ‘what you know’ just isn’t worth writing about. Some days though God smiles on you and something happens to spark an idea that you can only imagine will become the next best book ever. 

By day I am one of the people that Hollywood insists on dressing in badly fitting suits, plastic shoes and glasses, always with the glasses. Even when they cast a breathtaking beauty or pretty boy the glasses are still mandatory…yep, I’m an accountant. The truth is far prettier than Hollywood paints it. Due to dress codes we are more likely to look like we stepped from the pages of Vogue business and we don’t wear glasses, most of us have had laser eye surgery. :)

Anyway, as part of doing the ‘boring’ accounting thing I was sent to Sydney to work on a major merger deal for a client. Travel for work is far from glamorous. You catch a plane that leaves before most normal people are awake and get stuck in a hotel room in a city where you have no idea where you are going and have nobody to talk to.  At the end of very long day I usually prefer to call room service for dinner. I hate sitting in a restaurant all alone. The waiter insists on taking the other place setting away and your table for two becomes a table for one so you can’t even pretend your dining companion is late or has stood you up.

Meal ordered, I kicked off my shoes and gazed out the window wondering which direction my room faced and whether I could see the Sydney Opera House or the Harbour Bridge. I could see nothing but an office block across the street. A knock sounded and I crossed the room and opened the door and looked up and up and up.  Stood in my bare feet my measly 4feet 10inches only came to the young guy’s waist. Tired, and not at my sparkling best, I gawped and asked how tall he was.  I think he said about 6feet 7.  He served up my meal and we joked about the difficulty of buying clothes at either end of the height scale.  The chance to talk about something other than work and to enjoy some harmless banter made my day. I suddenly felt human again. 

Dinner consumed and wine bottle empty, I pondered the story that grew into my latest release Mergers & Acquisitions. My hero is no giant and my heroine is far younger and prettier than me but  I guess the moral of the story is some minor event can lead to big ideas. I wonder if my lofty waiter has penned a novel about me, perhaps a book about pixies…or more likely trolls.

So, have you ever had an experience you feel certain would make a great story?  Leave a comment and only luck person will win a free copy of my latest tale, Mergers & Acquisitions.

Buy link http://www.bookstrand.com/mergers-and-acquisitions

My website www.lilliangrant.com


Mergers & Acquisitions

Accountant Emily Armitage is stuck in Sydney for the weekend, working on the numbers for a hotel sale while fighting off the unwanted attention of her boss. However, things begin to look up when she steps onto her balcony and meets the man of her dreams.

When her new neighbor delivers room service, along with a shoulder massage, delicious foot rubs, and easy charm, she succumbs to the obvious attraction. Having spent a passionate weekend together, Monday morning brings an unwanted revelation. Randy’s been keeping secrets that could change her life.

Suddenly uncertain, she is forced to make a choice between her career and a man who adds up to perfection. Should she stick with the hotel acquisition or take a chance on their passionate new merger?

 Excerpt:

A knock on the bedroom door woke her from a warm, exotic dream. It involved a beach, lots of suntan lotion, and the long fingers of her mysterious next-door neighbor. The hazy recollection made her shiver in delight. However, she realized she must have lain at a funny angle. She now had a crook in her neck to go along with her still-pounding headache. As she crossed the room, she rubbed at the muscles in her shoulder in an attempt to release the tension and ease the pain. Opening the door, her hand stilled mid massage. Oh, my God, it was the man of her dreams.

“Good evening, ma’am. Room service.”

She frowned in confusion. “I thought you were in hospitality?”

He smiled. “I am, and I have your dinner. So, can I come in?”

She stepped back to give him room to maneuver the cart inside.

“Where would you like it?”

She was miles away. Her hand was still on the doorknob as she stood admiring his backside from across her room. He looked even better in her bedroom than he had on his balcony. His question had a dozen inappropriate answers dancing on the tip of her tongue.

“Like what?” She purred seductively.

He turned and grinned at her as she let the door handle go. Despite the heat in her cheeks, she tried to pretend she hadn’t been checking out the goods or imagining him offering something more than dinner.

“Your meal. Where would you like your meal? Is the table okay?”

Emily nodded. “Sure, the table is fine.”

He pushed her laptop to one side and placed the tray down.

“Would you like me to open the wine for you?”

Usually she would open it herself, being single and independent, but the longer he took, the better she liked it. Emily walked toward him, still rubbing the muscles in her neck. “Please.”

He lifted the bottle, checked the label, and nodded his approval. Corkscrew in hand, he soon released the cork from the neck and poured a generous amount into her glass.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

He placed the bottle on the table. “I would never encourage a guest to overindulge,” he said, with an amused lilt to his voice.

Emily maneuvered around to the chair, being careful not to bump against him. As gorgeous as he was, she didn’t want to appear to be giving him the come-on. No matter her fantasies about him, she was a guest, and the last thing she wanted to do was get him sacked. There must be rules about staff dating clientele. Besides, she didn’t do one-night stands. She dated Tony for months, and they’d even been engaged before she discovered what a huge disappointment he was. No harm in a bit of window-shopping though.

Before she had a chance to take her seat, he pulled it out for her. Once she was comfortable, he insisted on placing the napkin in her lap. She glanced up and smiled at him. “Thanks. Are you usually this attentive to your guests?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Only the pretty ones.”

Emily felt blood rush to her face and looked down at her plate. Did he think she’d been fishing for compliments? Maybe he charmed all the female guests so he would receive a bigger tip.

“How’s your head?”

Wineglass halfway to her mouth, Emily frowned. “How did you know I have a headache?”

“You have all the symptoms. The way you closed your eyes on the balcony, and now, rubbing your neck.”

She took a sip of the dark red nectar and let the spicy fluid slide slowly down her throat before letting out a loud sigh. “I should have gone to the pharmacy, but I just wanted to escape the madness downstairs and hide in my room. If I call the reception desk, do you think they would have something I could take?”

“You don’t need meds.”

He reached out, took her glass and placed it on the table, then stepped behind her. She wondered what he planned to do, but if it got him to stay longer and helped ease her headache, she wasn’t going to fight. When his long fingers started to knead the muscles in her shoulders, she sighed. Her initial thoughts about his hands were spot-on. He was good, really good. If he could make her feel this amazing with a shoulder massage, imagine how fantastic he could make her feel if his fingers traveled further. The tension flowed away, released by the gentle pressure. After a couple of minutes, he stopped and rested his hands on her shoulders.

“Lean back.”

“What?”

He placed a hand on her forehead and gently pulled her head toward him. “Tip your head back and rest against me.”

She did as he asked, and his fingers started their soft but effective work on her temples. She closed her eyes and didn’t even attempt to stifle a moan of pleasure.

“I’m Randy.”

Emily opened one eye, stared up at him, and raised her eyebrow. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond to his revelation, even though his confession wasn’t a totally unwelcome disclosure. If he kept gazing at her like that, she was sure the response, so am I, would tumble out of her mouth before she could stop it.

His dark eyes twinkled with amusement, and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. It seemed he wasn’t completely unaware of the effect he was having on her.