Aliyah Burke tells us, she is an avid reader and is never far from pen and paper (or the computer). She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached on her website: Aliyah-Burke.Com.
She can also be found on Facebook or Twitter: @AliyahBurke96. And Pinterest.
Aliyah is married to a career military man, and together they are owned by three Borzoi, and a DSH cat. She spends her days sharing time between work, writing, and dog training.
She took some time out of her busy schedule to answer a few questions for us:
1. How long does it take you to write a book?
Depends on the story. I can typically write a longer word count story faster than I can pen a shorter novella. Novellas are harder for me to do so they take longer for me to work out all the details to make it a complete story. I typically put down about 5k a day on a story or stories that I’m working on that day (spread across the stories).
2: What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
When I’m not writing (if there is a time) I’m typically at a dog show or dog trial, both racing and obedience. That’s my down time and when I can just chill and be me, not thinking about deadlines or my schedule that I’m most likely behind on.
3: What does your family think of your writing?
My family is nothing but supportive of what I do. My parents, brother, and husband are always pushing me to continue with this dream. I’m very lucky in that area.
4: What does your writing process look like?
Chaos? LOL, just kidding. I love to write in my notebook. The computer is very distracting for me, so I tend to put it down in the notebook first then transcribe it over. I typically have five notebooks out that I’m working on at any given time.
If I’m researching something, I have books open, the internet up, and possibly someone on the phone who knows the subject I’m looking to write on.
5: What are you working on now? What is your next project?
I’m working on a few more series right now. A paranormal one (Astral Guardians) to finish up the book in the series. And a couple contemporary series. It’s keeping me busy for sure.
6: Are you a plotter or a pantster?
Totally a pantser. I’ve plotted one book in my life and when I went to write it, the end result was nothing like what I plotted out. I’ve learned to relinquish the control to the characters and let them tell me where we’re going and how many twists and turns we’re going to take as we arrive at our destination.
7: If you only had one word to describe yourself, what would it be and why?
Blunt–I tend to keep to myself and love to listen and watch things around me. I think things through, weigh options before I act, yet I’m very blunt about my replies. So those who truly know me understand don’t ask if you don’t wish for me to be honest, sometimes brutally so. I don’t have time or the inclination to sugar-coat things, I’m not wired that way.
Thanks Aliyah for taking the time to answer our questions!
Below you will find an excerpt for Aliyah’s latest book, Till We Ain’t Strangers Anymore. This is the third book in her series: Interludes
Soot ran through the water farther downstream where it was shallower. She smiled at his antics, the sun glinting off the spraying droplets so they gleamed like strewn diamonds in the light. She couldn’t see Flannigan but wasn’t concerned. He was around somewhere.
Everything slowed as she fell in tune with the wonder of nature that surrounded her. The breeze. The river. All of it. She closed her eyes and let the sounds become her entire world. Here, she was allowed to be one with it all. This was her ultimate serenity.
Woof.
Flannigan.
Maya sighed and directed her eyes in the direction the bark had originated. Her retired show dog stood on the bank, tail wagging slightly.
“You old reprobate, where have you been?” She began bringing in her line.
“He came to find me.”
Her body trembled at the sexy, deep voice that crossed the air to her ears. Need to have a chat with my pup about who he hangs out with. “Of course he did,” she muttered. “And why would he do that?”
She delayed as long as she could before turning to give him any of her attention. Visually anyway. He only had to speak to her—hell, not even to her—and she was a mess.
“Perhaps he likes me.”
She whirled around, water spraying up around her as she found him. Flannigan sat at his left side, a happy expression on his face.
Traitor dog.
Brent’s gaze had her breath hitching. He looked so mouth-watering standing there. Part of nature. All the good bits. His medium gray shirt hung partially over the waistband of his light blue jeans. The clothes were slightly baggy yet did nothing to hide his power.
She released a small grunt—something she’d noticed herself doing a lot around him—and began heading for the bank. “That’s one way to look at it. Trust me, there are others.”
He had his hands in his pockets and was doing his best to appear unthreatening. She didn’t buy that for a second, the man had this presence—for lack of a better word—around him.
His hand was there to assist her up the side, which she accepted even though she didn’t need it. She readjusted her grip on the pole as he helped her.
“Thanks.” Her remark came out grudgingly.
“Don’t mention it.”
His gaze made her feel as if she’d been fishing naked. I could be clad in armor and he would make me feel that way, I have a sneaky suspicion.
“And so what can I do for you, Mr Agers?” She patted Flannigan on the head.
“That’s easy,” he replied.
Maya glanced at him when nothing else came from him. “And that would be?”
He stepped closer to her, snaking his arm out to settle around her waist before he tugged her nearer to him. “For starters,” he stated, moving his attention from her eyes to her lips and back. “This.”
His mouth descended upon hers in a gentle claiming. A demanding claiming. A proprietary claiming. His tongue surged into her mouth, sliding along hers. Goosebumps erupted along her skin as he drew her closer, sinking a hand into her hair at the nape of her neck. Her knees still wobbled and the fishing rod fell from her fingers moments before she positioned her palms upon his chest.
His taste swarmed her—addictive, masculine, perfect. She pressed closer, craving more.
A craving Brent fulfilled.
Passion thrummed between them and she ground against his cock, which dug hard against the material of his jeans. She needed him. Wanted his thickness sliding in and out of her pussy.
Her nipples were drawn tight as he rubbed his shaft along the seam of her jean shorts. He lifted her ass and she wrapped her boot-clad legs around him.
“This is stupid,” she muttered around his thrusting tongue.
“Not.”
“I shouldn’t do this with you.”
His fingers bit into her left ass cheek. “You shouldn’t do this with anyone else.”
She almost purred at the danger lacing his tone. Struggling against her need to rip his clothes off, she nipped at his tongue and lower lip.
“I don’t do flings.”
“Good,” he responded, setting her down on the ground, his larger, heavier body keeping her delightfully trapped. Not that I’m looking for a way out.
“This will be a mistake.”
He pulled away and stared at her, heat simmering nigh uncontrollably. Brent blinked, his sinfully long lashes briefly hiding the intense hue of his eyes.
“I disagree, Maya. You’ve been in my dreams nightly. I know you’re mad I didn’t remember you, but I did. Your name, perhaps not. What we shared has been with me from that night on.”
He moved down, lifting her shirt so he could kiss her skin. Then he removed it entirely. She shivered at his caresses. The material of his shirt rubbed the inside of her thighs above where her waders ended.
She stared at the top of his head, the chocolate brown hair smooth against her hand as she settled it upon him. His lips were driving her to distraction. While he never actually touched her breasts, they throbbed with painful anticipation.
He slowly explored her stomach, his tongue dipping repeatedly into her belly button.
She scrunched her eyes against the bright overhead sun as she flexed her fingers in his short hair. Her gut tightened when his breath fanned over the button securing her shorts and her skin directly above it.
Then he undid it. His hair skimmed along her fingers as he lowered the zipper. She captured her lower lip in her teeth as he drew her shorts down over her hips. Her breaths came short and sharp as longing speared through her as he guided her to lie upon the ground.
Her underwear and waders followed and she gave a small gasp when his mouth settled over her pussy. She latched onto his head and clamped her thighs tightly around his ears.
He lapped at her with the flat of his tongue, swiping up her slick core. She squirmed, grinding into his waiting mouth. Brent laid one arm over her waist, anchoring her there. Up and down, he licked. Her hips writhed beneath his assault. She dug her fingers into his head and bore down on his face.
“Brent,” she gasped. Shit, this is nothing like my memories of how it went. This is so, so much better.
“Hmmm?”
His question vibrated along her clit seconds before he sucked it into his mouth.
Stars exploded before her eyes as he did amazing things to her. She cried aloud when he speared her with two of his thick digits.
“I want to fuck you. Right now, Maya. My cock is jealous of my fingers. It wants to be buried in this hot pussy.”
“Yes.” Christ, it was what she wanted as well.
You can purchase your own copy of Till We Ain’t Strangers Anymore by clicking on the link.