Marshall T.J. Langlois
Pronounced Lan-(g)waah
At least in my dad's small south Louisiana town, a Marshall is an elected political position, similar to a police chief or sheriff, in towns that aren’t big enough to have a police force but still need more than the parish sheriff.
I based Marshall T.J. Langlois off of Marshall Russell in my dad’s hometown. He is friends with everyone and, like Marshall Langlois, he's a big dude, but that's about where the similarities end. He’s got a deep rolling southern ...
Wine and chocolate
I wanted a sensual experience for Tori.
This is a slow awakening (hah!) of her senses and her appetites. You don’t just throw someone in the deep water to swim, and you don’t start with whips and chains the first time someone calls you Master.
The Chocolate
I did a little research (not a lot) about pairing chocolate with wine. As I grew into adulthood, I became a dark chocolate lover. Milk chocolate is great, of course, but there’s something special about the bitter-sweet depths ...
Film Terms
As fictional as this book is, I do want to keep some things true to life. There’s only so much disbelief a reader is expected to put on hold. Frankly, I want to use that quota in other ways, not when discussing something simple like incorrect film jargon in a pre-production meeting.
Line Producer – the dude or lady who is in charge of a film’s budget. They’re basically the film’s lead accountant and they make sure all the bills are paid.
Production Designer – these men and ...
Nate’s Tesla
The Tesla
I don’t know why, but I think Teslas and Elon Musk are cool.
In books, especially these kinds of books, it seems like everyone has these super-exotic awesome cars. And it’s a fantasy, so it makes sense.
I don’t know why, but in my head – and as I’m the one writing it, it’s the only head that matters at this point – Nate, for all that he’s filthy rich and likes nice things, has a strong practical streak in him. He knows what it’s like to be broke af. He knows ...
The Finewhile Diner. . .
I love diners.
Particularly small-town, roadside diners. Diners that still look like they did when they were built in the heyday of highway travel, at a time before interstates were a thing.
Diners are going by the wayside, which makes me sad. Half the ones I’ve been to in the past decade since I moved to L.A. cook frozen food that they bought in bulk and call it “homemade”. (Maybe it says that on the box, but it sure as hell ain’t homemade!) Anyway, bad food, and bad diner food, ...
Drunk Brunch
I got an editor note back for Chapter 16 suggesting that I change “drunk brunch” to “hangover brunch”. And even though I’ve been friends with my editor for nearly 10 years, I guess I never mentioned drunk brunch to her. . . Oopsie.
I don’t know if it’s a Louisiana thing or a my-friends-from-college-in-Louisiana thing, but every Sunday (and some Saturdays) during college when we all lived in dorms, we would meet around 11 AM in the LSU Student Union for drunk brunch.
Somet...
One Canal Place (Chapter 9)
That photo above? Not my photo. Nor is the one below. Shocking.
At the end of Canal Street, almost at the river, on the edge of the Quarter, stands a high rise. In that high rise, you can both get your passport from the passport office upstairs, Chanel 22 at Saks Fifth Avenue, and a great little dress at one of the boutiques.
http://www.theshopsatcanalplace.com/