AuThursday – Faye Hall

Tell us a little about yourself and your background?

Author of passionate embraces, deceitful devotions, lustful encounters, corruption, and betrayal, as well as desire and seduction. Faye Hall is an author of Scandalously Steamy Australian Historical Romantic Suspense novels. Born and raised in North Queensland, Australia, she uses the tales of local history, and the struggles and adventures of her own family, to bring her characters to life in a uniquely, rural setting. Her fast-paced stories incorporate scandal, crime, suspense, and seduction to pull her characters along on unique stories of love and romance.

How do you make time to write?

With a family of 5 schoolchildren, this is very hard! I have learned to write where and when I can, and use late nights and early mornings to my advantage.

Do you believe in writer’s block?

Yes, I do. It happens sometimes for the strangest reasons. Other times it happens because of a bad review or feeling low because of struggling achievements.

Tell us a bit about the genre you write and why you love it.

I write Steamy Historical Romantic Suspense set in Australia. I love it because I get to tell the stories of the earlier generations from my area of the world and the struggles that drew them together.

How are you publishing your recent book and why?

I’ve turned all my books to indie publishing recently, with the help of my family-run publishing company. It was a long thought-out decision, but after having 3 small publishers close down and return my rights to me, it was the most logical option. And I’m enjoying the freedom it allows me for now.

Are you an Introvert or an Extrovert?  How does this affect your work?

I’m an introvert, married to an introvert, who birthed 5 other introverts. It doesn’t really affect my work, but it does make promoting a challenge. I get too nervous to speak for podcasts. I live in a rural area, so author events aren’t a thing, nor do I desire to travel far from home to attend such things.

What is your favorite motivational phrase?

“If you don’t like something change it; if you can’t change it, change the way you think about it.” – Mary Engelbreit

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

To write from your heart even if it’s not always well received at first.

Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?

www.fayehall.com.au

Do you have an excerpt you’d like to share with us?

Needing to understand what was driving his actions, Phoebe followed Raymond at a distance. Perhaps his need to push her away had more to do with his life rather than her own. For all she knew, he could be married with children waiting for him back home. Her gaze narrowed as she studied him at a distance. Raymond didn’t look like the type to be a floundering snake. If anything, he looked more like the type of man who needed to be possessed by a woman, his every movement governed by hers, expecting the same loyalty in return. Even the thought of such devotion made her heart skip a beat.

The sound of splashing water up ahead dragged her from her musings and her steps slowed as she nestled in amongst the thick scrub surrounding the creek. Peering through the branches, she stifled a gasp as her stare rested on Raymond moving about in the water. Her gaze shifted to the moving fabric hanging from the tree, and her eyes widened. She’d never seen a naked man before, certainly never watched one bathing. Part of her wanted to be brave and walk out and join him, but her cowardliness kept her firmly in her hiding place. He’d pushed her away so many times already, she couldn’t bear for him to dismiss her should she try to join him.

Phoebe should go back to the camp, but she couldn’t force herself to turn away from the man swimming in the creek. Watching him stand, his torso leaving the water, droplets covering his skin, she ached to wipe them from him even if just to feel his firm skin beneath her fingers once more. Though she called herself a fool for allowing such thoughts to enter her mind, she couldn’t deny she wanted more than his skin against hers. She wanted to be wrapped in his embrace, his soft voice begging to share unspeakable passions with her, quenching the hunger he stirred inside her that she could no longer ignore.

“I seem to remember you calling me a bastard for watching you bathe,” Raymond yelled, turning toward where she was hiding in the bushes.

AuThursday – Faye Hall

Tell us a little about yourself and your background?

 

Faye Hall spent her early years listening to stories about the families – including her own – who settled townships in and around her hometown in North Queensland, Australia. The local townspeople, including her own parents, told her stories of corruption and slavery, along with family secrets and forbidden love. Desperate to remember what she’d been told, along with her already growing love of writing, Faye began to write about the history of her local area. Never could she have imagined the history of her small home town in Australia would become a growing list of published books. Faye’s passionate stories combine controversial subjects and provocative encounters as her characters struggle to survive the lifestyle in early rural townships throughout Australia. She explores slavery and abortion, drug addiction and murder, as well as forbidden love and passionate affairs of the heart. When she’s not writing, Faye enjoys sharing a bottle of wine with her husband in their ever-growing garden, and encouraging the varied interests of their combined family of nine children.

 

How do you make time to write?

 

With such a large family, it’s difficult to plan where and when I’m going to commit time to writing, so I’ve learned to be happy with a few lines here and there on my busiest days. Most of my book ideas come while I’m waiting to do school pick ups, and then it’s a series of late nights and early mornings to piece the rest of the story together.

 

Do you believe in writer’s block?

 

I do, yes. All you need sometimes is one bad review, or some snide remark about sales and it can really deflate you so much the brain just freezes. I’ve learned that for me, I go back over old notes, or try to edit some forgotten about manuscript to try and snap myself out of it. My husband and children are also incredibly supportive and try to get me talking or thinking about new story idea – even humorous ones – just to get my back on track.

 

Tell us a bit about the genre you write and why you love it.

 

I write Australian Historical Romantic Suspense. I’m a born and bred Aussie girl, so it made sense to me to set my stories in and around my hometown. As for the rest, I’ve always loved history, and a good mystery so I wrote the kind of stories I wanted to read.

 

How are you publishing your recent book and why?

 

Carnal Transgression was released in June through a small traditional publisher names Beachwalk Press. They’ve done all of my current releases and gave me hope after I got burned by another publishing company.

 

Are you an Introvert or Extrovert? How does this affect your work?

 

I’m very much an introvert and spend a lot of time lost in my own thoughts. Of course, having children at school forces me to be more social then I would be by choice, which is also good because sometimes ideas come from the strangest of places.

 

What is your favorite motivational phrase?

 

A bad first draft is better than a blank page.

 

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

 

Learn to take criticism and write what you want, not just to please people.

 

Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?

 

https://www.fayehall.com.au

 

Do you have an excerpt you’d like to share with us?

 

Fear of exactly what her sister might have seen directed her steps out of the hotel and into a run down the street. Constance needed to collect her belongings and find a place to hide until she’d found justice for her sister and discovered if her death was connected to her investigation into the boats docking at Lynch’s Beach.

 

She hadn’t gone far when she abruptly collided with the firm figure of a man.

 

“Are you all right?” he asked, his hands on her hips steadying her.

 

Recognizing his melodic brogue, Constance looked up into his green eyes.

 

“It’s you,” he uttered softly, looking confused. Lifting his hands to her face, he gently wiped away the wet tracks on her cheeks. “What’s happened to drive a wee little beauty into my arms again so soon?”

 

His innocent question was the last reality needed for the true horror of what was happening to wash over her.

 

Losing all control, tears streamed down her cheeks, and her lips trembled as she surrendered to her grief.

 

“Now, lass, whatever it is, surely it can’t be that bad,” he said, his arm going around her, holding her tight as he led her to a street bench. Sitting her down, he brushed her hair back from her face. “Where’s the lady you were with last night? Your sister, wasn’t she? I can take you to her if you think that will help.”

 

She struggled to hold her tears at bay. “She’s dead.”

 

“What?” he gasped.

 

“Her body was found washed up on the beach this morning,” Constance blurted out, still unable to believe the words.

 

He squeezed her tight, holding her against him as he rocked her slightly. “My poor, sweet beauty. I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

He felt so strong, so safe, his words comforting her far more than she believed anything capable of in this moment.

 

“I think I should take you to the police station,” he stated, brushing her hair from her tear-drenched cheeks.

 

His words startled her. She didn’t want to be taken anywhere near the police station or Robert. She pushed away from him and stood up, wiping at her cheeks and straightening her dress. “You’ve been most kind, sir, but I can’t ask you to do any more than you already have.”

 

He stood, stepping toward her. “Someone has to investigate what caused your sister’s death.”

 

“And I will,” she assured him firmly.

 

“Please, I want to help you.”

 

Constance’s hands stilled, holding his gaze for several moments, her tears flowing down her cheeks again. How she ached to accept his offer, but she was too scared to put her trust in anyone.

 

“You can’t.” Her words were barely more than a whisper, but she could tell by his scowl he heard her.

 

“Where will you go?” he asked.