Give a warm welcome to S.A. Stolinsky, author of Hot Shot!
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about S.A. Stolinsky and her suspense, Hot Shot.
What defines you as an author? As a person? Are they one in the same? I think that everything you write is obviously a part of you or your subconscious.
What inspired this particular story? I have a wonderful friend who was brutally affected by addictions including gambling. He lost everything he had and then wanted changes implemented at the gambling houses—he became quite an advocate for anti-gambling.
What secret do you use to blast through writer’s block? I ask myself questions, such as “what would happen next? Sometimes I ask myself what each person/character would be doing during this particular scene.
What inspired you to write? I was always good at it, but it also allows me to calm down and create something from nothing.
How long have you been writing? Most of my life.
What do you want your readers to take away from your books? Humor and the idea that most problems can be overcome and will be overcome. I want them to see the humor in life and try to live their lives honestly and with a sense of you can throw a handkerchief into the air and let it fall where it may-type of feelings about most things.
If writing is your first passion, what is your second? Forensic psychology
What do you like to do when you are not writing? Go out to dinner with my husband and going to the movies.
What’s your favorite part of being an author? I’m never bored.
SPEED ROUND FOR A LITTLE ADDED FUN:
Speed Round (one word only answer): Yep, I know torture for a writer!<evil laugh>
Favorite movie: THE COUNTERFEIT TRAITOR
Favorite book: TOO MANY TO NAME, BUT ROBER PARKER FAVORITE AUTHOR
Last book read: All The Light You Cannot See
Favorite color: Blue
Stilettos or flipflops: Stilettos
Coffee or tea: Coffee
Ebook or audiobook or paperback: Paperback
Pencil or pen: Pen
Favorite song: The Last Rose of Summer
Streak or not: Streak
Favorite dessert: Chocolate cake
Favorite junk food: McD’s cheese burger with bacon, fries and a thick chocolate shake
Favorite thing to do to relax: Read
Champagne or gin: Neither any more
Paranormal or Historical: Historical
Wonder Woman or Top Model: Kate Moss
Favorite TV show: Law and Order
Hot or cold: Cold
POV: from the protagonist
I’d die if I don’t have: a Best Seller list book
Review or Not: Review
Thank you so much for being here. Now tells us a little about Hot Shot.
A Peek Between the Pages of Hot Shot:
Tyler pushed his long, blond hair back with one hand and slouched. He knew she found him attractive. “I’ll tell ya,” he began, hoping to make it last, keep her interested. “I pretty much need the start up money right now.”
Ah, too fast.
“Start up money? Now? You think I got a stash under my bed upstairs? We should go up and find out. My, my we’re in a hurry aren’t we?” Elsie pushed Tyler into an oversized easy chair covered with brown mohair. A black cat with white paws jumped off it as Tyler slammed down.
“Easy kid. That’s the trick. You don’t wanta look too desperate, know what I mean? Well, you are good lookin’ I’ll give you that,” she said. “What ya got there?”
Tyler gave her a certificate.
“Made this up on my computer. It kind of sells land.”
“Bullwhippie,” Elsie said as she tore up the certificate and put it in a glass ashtray on the glass coffee table. “The only thing that makes a lot of money fast is ass, kid.”
“One point five million?” Tyler asked.
“You’re good looking, but honey your ego’s getting away with you.”
Elsie sat in her chair, a plush, pink armchair with multicolor pink pillow and a foot stool in front. She leaned toward him.
“Listen, baby. This is just between you and me, got it? I’ve been a madam longer than I can remember. I work on the sly sometimes, and my parole officer comes around, but he don’t bother me. You know why?”
A still crestfallen Tyler looked at her.
“Because I got the goods on all those assholes, that’s why. I got the video. Don’t ever do porn without a video somewheres in the bedroom. Ya got me?”
Elsie continued without noticing. “I’ll never tell where I hid the original, but believe me I got plenty of copies. Got a friend on Grand that does the best photography in the city. I had a couple of tapes made and almost sold ‘em to TV—the porn sites. So I been thinkin’ real hard about how I can re-establish my rep. And here you come.”
Tyler finally opened his mouth but it was only to use his tongue to wet his lips, they felt parched and he was sure they would crack it he kept his mouth closed any longer.
“Yes, Ma’am,” was all he could think to say.
“I’m gonna start up the biggest whore house in the state, sonny. This time? With men. You know how much a good male hooker can make? Two thousand a night. Now—depending on your stamina…”
“Yeah, I get the picture,” Tyler said.
He wasn’t in to older women, but he had to admit, Elsie was beginning to look visibly younger with the excitement she was projecting. Some people love their work. Her gray roots were beginning to look more like silver blonde streaks and her smile was widening. Her teeth, perfect in what were undoubtedly caps, glistened.
“A male whore house. I don’t think it’s been done before,” Elsie repeated.
Elsie was spry for a woman her age, but she had become overweight and as Tyler checked out the flat, it looked like she’d just moved into the place. She no longer looked like a professional, but that was probably the point. On a small table next to Tyler there was a silver framed picture, a studio shot of a glamorous woman, her head tilted back, full makeup and blond hair, her fingers just touching her chin and a large, pearl necklace around her neck and thick jeweled bracelets on her wrists. Tyler realized it was an old shot of Elsie maybe forty years ago.
“Women in their eighties still masturbate, you know that?” Elsie asked noticing him admiring the photo. She looked like she might jot down his answer in an interview. “And what a shame that is when guys like you are just running around willy-nilly.”
“No, ma’am, never really thought about it,” Tyler said.
“You sure do look like your pa. He was a crafty one, but always good to my girls. You work out, huh? I got a boob job in my seventies. Hell, nothing stays up forever. They’re just starting to sag again now. Thinking about getting ‘em done again, so this is a good time we connected.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Tyler wasn’t sure where this was going, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want it to go much further.
“Thirty percent on my end,” she said.
“Huh?” Tyler realized his eyes had widened and tried to relax so he wouldn’t look so stupid.
“That’s a lot of money, Ma’am,” Tyler said, when the hole in his stomach shrunk slightly. “I mean I’m desperate, like you say, but that’s a big cut.”
“Listen, kid. A man looks like you, your age, your height, your…face, could make more than two thousand dollars a night, okay? It’s not gonna last forever, so you better grab it while ya can.
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