Meet Remy!
Remy Fisher writes sweet and sexy romance with quite a bit of spice mixed in. She loves tattoos, coffee, and the desert; she’s married to her very own bearded and tattooed silver fox; and her daydreams revolve around moving to the American Southwest.
Songs of His Poet
What's the one thing that conquers all... that heals... that we would fight for... die for...
Jackson thought his life was whole, established, that he didn’t need a
woman to complete him. That is, until he saw a curvy redhead walk
into his vision. Now, he will do anything to show Randy that her past
doesn’t define her, that she is more than the scars she bears.
Randyll has spent her life pushing people away, and she’s gotten quite
good at it. So when Jack saunters into the bookstore where she does
monthly readings from her books, she wants nothing to do with the highbred
architect trying to intrude into her well-crafted misery.
Will Jackson’s love be enough to help her heal, or will Randyll push him
away with her determination to grieve the life that was stolen from her?
Possible Trigger Warning
Heavy grief from past trauma
Please read Note from Author in ebook sample
An Excerpt
As I’m packing up for the day, my phone dings. I’m literally walking out the door, I do not want to answer a work call. I slide it into my pocket without looking and switch off my computer. When I get to the elevators, my conscience gets the better of me, and I pull my phone out of my pocket. Better to deal with work here than have to ride the elevator back up. But it’s not work-related. Instead, I’m stunned into immobility. The elevator doors open…and close. It’s a text from Randyll—Randy. She texted me. My heart beats out an irregular pattern as I open it and read the words. She wants to take me up on that coffee but change it to a nightcap and at her house instead of the bookstore cafe. I check the time; it’s just after seven. I look around and there’s literally no one in the office but me, so at least no one saw me miss the elevators. I hastily text back that I’d love to and that I’ll bring takeout. I ask what she feels like eating. She replies with tacos and sends her address. Tacos. I chuckle. Sounds good to me. Twenty-five minutes later, I pull up to her building, find the underground parking garage, then head up in the elevator, tacos in one hand and my suit jacket in the other. I don’t know why I didn’t leave my jacket in the car. Too late now, the elevator doors open on her floor and I make my way to her apartment. She opens it with a wide grin, the complete opposite of how I’ve seen her thus far, but I like it. It matches my mood having gotten this invite from her. Much more than I expected so quickly, but I’ll take it. Her incredible red hair is pulled to the side wrapped in a band holding it in place and draping down the front of her shoulder. She has on a short summer dress with tiny straps, barely containing those amazing breasts. I quickly avert my eyes, and whether she saw them wander or not, she makes no indication. She’s enigmatic, alluring, sexy, and her poems are so penetrating, I often find them reciting in my head. She’s kind of amazing. She opens the door wide and squeals when I hold out the tacos. I laugh at her excitement and cross the threshold, handing her the bag as I pass. She throws the door closed and motions for me to follow her. Her apartment is dim, hardly a light on, though not so dark as to not be able to see clearly once my eyes adjust as I follow her to the dining table. There’s a vaguely familiar scent in the air, but as we walk through the living room, I see incense burning and figure that’s the smell. We quietly devour the tacos, barely talking around the food. She’d already set the table with plates, glasses, and a bottle of wine. I guess she was hungry. When we’re finished, I tell her, “I’m really happy you decided to call—well, text.” She picks up her glass of wine and tilts her head, then smiles languidly. “I realized I’d given you my card but didn’t have your number,” I continue, “which is understandable that you wouldn’t just give out your number to every guy who approached you at one of your readings. Nevertheless, I was hoping—” “Jack,” she cuts me off, “stop talking.” I immediately close my mouth, but my eyes widen. She takes a sultry sip of her wine, licking the drops off her lips, and those movements alone put my dick on high alert. I clear my throat and adjust in my seat. I look away but not before I see a wicked grin forming on her face. She sets her wine down and uncoils from her chair. As she moves around the table, I have a brief sense of integrity come over me—she might regret whatever she’s about to do. I’ve literally met her twice, for less than an hour total, she should not be wanting to bed me this quickly. She doesn’t even know me. But as she sashays behind my chair, slowly brushing her hands across my shoulders, up my neck, and into my hair, my dick tells me to shut the fuck up and let this happen. I try to come up with the words to thwart whatever plans she has in mind, but as she comes around and straddles me, her dress riding up so high I can see her panties, I lose all sense of propriety and wrap my arms around this luscious woman who is sitting on my very hard cock and licking my ears, making me release precum into my suit pants. “Do you want me, Jack?” she whispers huskily into my ear. I nod, unable to form coherent words. “Then take me,” she growls.
Get To Know Remy
Obviously, the natural first question is to ask you what got you into writing. But my real question is: what made you decide to publish?
So I’ve written from time to time throughout my life, poems, short stories, had ideas for longer works, but never had the time to do anything with it; I was raising our kids and homeschooling them. What really got me into writing was during COVID—kids are grown and out of the house, my work became almost nonexistent, and I have all this time on my hands. I came across a blog article about a woman who makes a living writing romance.
After that blog post, I did a little research and came across another (better) writer who was also making a living writing. So I decided to take a chance.
Did you ever publish the first book you wrote? If yes, tell us about it. If not, tell us about it anyway!
I’d never finished the first couple of ideas I had for a book. So technically no, I didn’t publish it. I still have the first few chapters I wrote on one of them and may do so at a later time. But the first fully finished book – Blaire’s Decision, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09BBNXV1T – yes, I published it one year and three months after I started writing it. It is still one of my most favorite stories that I’ve written and published (second being the most recent, Songs of His Poet).
What is your favorite part of writing?
The reason Blaire’s Decision and Songs of His Poet are my most favorite of all my books is what I like most about writing: They were easy to write. Meaning after a certain point, the words flowed effortlessly and I didn’t have to think much about the writing itself. The characters told me what they wanted to do, and I just wrote it.
If you could give any piece of advice to aspiring authors/writers, what would it be?
It’s the simplest piece of advice and one not everyone will believe: Just sit down and write.
I mean that literally. Just write. Don’t think about anything that will come after you write your story (editing, marketing, connecting, publishing, etc). It’s not going to help you. It will, in fact, hinder you and everything about your writing. (writer’s block, anyone?)
And don’t tell me you don’t have time. If you want to write, you’ll find time. It takes no time at all to type out 500 words. Make it a habit and do it. I found a blog a few years ago with a 500-word-per-day challenge. I accepted and found I was often writing more than that. Next thing you know, you’ll have a story. 😉
What does your writing set-up look like?
LOL I don’t really have one. I have a very messy desk with everything from all my jobs sitting in piles here and there and my computer sits in the center of it all. I am constantly ogling others’ office setups and vow to one day make my own look IG worthy, but alas, it hasn’t happened yet.
And your writing process?
While it varies slightly, my most basic process is this:
I take an idea from one of my many, very in-depth, story idea notes and read through it a few times. While I’m reading through it, I’ll come up with a broad storyline in my head. Sometimes I can even imagine how the ending will be or how I want it to be, and that helps with the outline – how do I get there?
Next I’ll write in my “cutesy author notebook” all about the main characters (name, age, height, eye/hair color, job, personality, body type – I need a visual), their immediate side characters, the town name, maybe some key points that I want to mention [for example, trail names in Blaire’s Decision or the bookstore name in Songs of His Poet].
Next is to outline the chapters. For each chapter, I’ll give a general overview of what I want to happen at that time, not just “boy meets girl,” but how and where, some of what may be said.
Then I just start writing.
What is the one story you’ve been desperate to tell?
It’s a second-chance romance between a long-time married couple who’ve fallen into the unintentional complacency that can happen when no one really works at the marriage.
Why haven’t you told it yet?
First reason was because I was in the middle of the BlackRock Valley series. Second reason, currently, is because I’ve made 2023 the year of shorts, and it can’t be adequately told in less than 85 pgs. That story ^^ will be the first I get to in 2024.
Lastly, give us some of that good ol’ shameless self-promo. What can we expect to see from you in the future?
I’m finally delving into cowboy romance. I had an idea recently that turned into a series as I was doing my writing process above. Because why have one cowboy when you can have three cowboy brothers. I’ll be introducing the Beckett Brothers’ Ranch series with its sexy cowboys and their strong women – or rather you will be, LOL.
If you’d like to be spotlighted on my blog, please check out my google form!
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Ivy Whitaker 