Today, we’re lucky enough to have with us Aaron Rixx, lead singer of the world famous rock band, the Lyric Hounds. So, Mr.Rixx...can I call you Aaron?
Aaron: You can call me anything you like, sweetness...
Bless you, I can understand why they call you the nicest man in the rock business. Believe me, I’m blushing furiously here. Aaron is not only charming, he’s the best looking man I’ve ever seen. And he has a twin!
So tell me, Aaron, since you guys are all werewolves, why on earth did you call the band the Lyric ‘Hounds’?
Aaron laughs, reclining in his seat a little. He’s dressed in the usual rock star uniform of leather pants and an open to the waist black shirt. There are scars on his stomach that I want to ask about but my brief before the interview states that Aaron won’t answer anything about them anyway, he never does.
Aaron: Well, that one goes back a long way. We’ve always been a musical family, as far back as I can recall we were always singing and joking about. Our mom made us take music from an early age after she found K and I singing ‘You ain’t nothin but a hound dog’ in front of a mirror when we were about seven. She called us her little Lyric Hounds after that, so it was the obvious choice really.
Oh my, that is so sweet. I’ve never heard that tale before and from the faint colour and the way Aaron stops speaking, I don’t think he meant to tell me so much...
So, you three...You, your twin and Tempest, are siblings? When did you meet Sav, the drummer?
Aaron nods: Yeah, K and I are not that much older than Temp. Sav we’ve known since we were kids. He lived down the street. In a town with few wolves, wolf kids tend to stick together. Tends to keep the bullies at bay when you’re in a pack.
That gets my interest. Bullies? I’m curious, what kind of bully could take on werewolves?
Aaron shrugs. Well, most wolves don’t manifest a change until puberty, so until then, we’re pretty much on a par with kids of other species. Apart from bears, those suckers are strong whatever age. We had a couple in our area and they could be a problem. Four wolf kids? Bears and assh*les in school hassling kids that are different think twice.
I leave that one alone, I want to ask but the director is making frantic motions to tell me my time with Aaron is up. Just one more question... So, Aaron, tell me...is there a lady in your life at present?
The slow grin I get is so sexy and carnal, it should be illegal.
Aaron: Sweetness, I’ll leave that to your imagination...
To read more about Aaron and the Lyric Hounds, pick up the first in the series today!
Melody's love life is in a bit of a dry spell...for the last two years. Content tracking down archaeological evidence of werewolf packs, she spends her time wearing wellingtons and covered in mud rather than looking for a date. Knowing her worried brother isn’t above arranging a kidnapping to get her to go on a date, she agrees to a match with 1Night Stand, figuring Madame Eve has to be a better matchmaker than her beloved brother.
Money, fame, looks—rock star and werewolf Aaron Rixx has it all, except the one thing that truly matters...love. Yearning for a woman to see him for who he is, he lets Madame Eve make all the arrangements. No matter where he goes, as the lead singer of the world famous band, Lyric Hounds, he's always recognized...so all he expects is a night of hot sex and a quiet weekend with his music.
He never anticipates Madame Eve might find the one woman on the planet who doesn't recognise him on sight...or the one he and his wolf identify instantly as their mate. Will one night be enough for him to convince Melody she's his forever?
About The Author:
Mina was born and raised in the East Farthing of Middle Earth (otherwise known as the Midlands, England) and spend her childhood learning all the sorts of things generally required of a professional adventurer. Able to ride, box, shoot, make and read maps, make chainmail and use a broadsword (with varying degrees of efficiency) she was disgusted to find that adventuring is not considered a suitable occupation these days.
So, instead of slaying dragons and hunting vampires and the like, Mina spends her days writing about hot shifters, government conspiracies and vampire lords with more than their fair share of RAWR. Turns out wanna-be adventurers have quite the turn of imagination after all...
(But she keeps that sword sharp, just in case the writing career is just a dream and she really *is* an adventurer.)
Darkness had begun to fall, which meant her date had been cooling his heels for almost an hour….
Rixx. Why did that name seem familiar? The thought slid away as she headed to the double doors and threw them open.
The warm evening air whispered over her skin like a lover’s caress. The thought brought her back to sex again, and heat spread over her cheeks. Schooling her emotions, she fought the instinct to turn and run, to hide in her room under the duvet until morning, rather than have sex with a stranger. After all, that’s what the night was all about, wasn’t it? A one-night stand. But she had to admit, she was well overdue for some action between the sheets.
Her heels clicked on the flagstones, and she whistled a low note between her teeth as the balcony widened into a large seating area. Holy crap, is that a hot tub?
There wasn’t time to gawp. A figure detached itself from the shadows by one of the huge gargoyles dotting the wall. She hadn’t done more than glance at the profile of her date, preferring to make her own decision on the guy when she met him. Any report she read, even the briefest profile, could taint that first meeting. But, even if she had had an idea of the man she’d come there to meet, of what to expect, he certainly wasn’t it. Her jaw dropped as the moon broke overhead and she got her first good look at him.
He appeared to have stepped right from the glossy pages of Rock’n’Roll magazine. Tall and wiry, he had long black hair loose about his shoulders, and his unbuttoned shirt revealed a toned chest and a ripped six pack. Black pants rode low on his hips, far enough that one slip would reveal where the dark line of hair down the centre of his hard stomach led. The tattoos scrawled over his skin, heavy silver rings, bracelets and a large skull belt buckle completed the macho bad boy look. Almost…. She blinked, leaned closer and frowned.
“Are you wearing eyeliner?”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. He turned his head to flick the hair over his shoulder, and the light caught his eyes, the telltale shimmer clueing her in.
Her date not only channelled enough inner bad boy for a whole fricking town full of boys, but he was a werewolf to boot. Wait—did that make him a bad boy or a bad dog?