Name: Lisa Worrall
Age: a lady never tells
Where are you from: I was born in Dagenham, grew up in Hornchurch and now live in Leigh on Sea just outside Southend 🙂
A little about yourself `ie your education Family life etc:
I live in a quiet cul de sac with my two children and our dog… well she’s more like my dog considering the amount of time she spends attached to my hip. I work from home which isn’t as easy as it sounds lol.
Fiona: Tell us your latest news?:
I usually have three WIPS on the go. My latest release is a short that was previously in the Uniform Appeal anthology published by Dreamspinner. And I’m also currently working on Laurel Heights 2.
Fiona: When and why did you begin writing?:
I’ve always written stories since I was a child. But I got involved with fanfiction about five years ago. That led to someone suggesting I submit to the submission call Dreamspinner had going at that time – A Midsummer’s Nightmare – and the rest as they say is history. I now write full time.
Fiona: When did you first consider yourself a writer?
I’m not sure I do, even now.
Fiona: What inspired you to write your first book?
When Dreamspinner accepted my first short. I decided to take another chance and submitted to a Father’s Day submission call Silver had going at the time. I just thought a nanny who helps someone to love again would make a good tale, and as I have kids, I find them easy to write. In fact a lot of what my kids say or do actually ends up in my books.
Fiona: Do you have a specific writing style?
I don’t think so… but then others might disagree. I think if I do it’s quite an easy to read style with lots of humour. Even my darker stories have humour in them somewhere.
Fiona: How did you come up with the title?
Of my latest WIP? To be honest I thought for ages about a title for Laurel Heights 2… but finally came to the conclusion that everyone was already calling it Laurel Heights 2 anyway, so I went with that one lol.
Fiona: Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
Laurel Heights 2 is a murder mystery so I don’t think so.
Fiona: How much of the book is realistic?
I do lots of research so hopefully it will be realistic and the story is quite dark too.
Fiona: Are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?
Fiona: What books have most influenced your life most?
I don’t know if there are particular books that I can pinpoint as an influence on me. I basically read anything and everything I could get my hands on. Lots of books have stayed with me, but I’m not sure I had a pivotal moment with one in particular.
Fiona: If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?
Sue Brown has been right with me since the beginning of this journey.
Fiona: What book are you reading now?
Slasherazzi by Daniel Kaine.
Fiona: Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest?
Daniel Kaine and Liam Livings.
Fiona: What are your current projects?
Laurel Heights 2, the expansion of Mr Popsalos, Left at the Crossroads 3 and Ed and Fred are Dead – a story that evolved from a hilarious conversation on the car ride back from the UK Meet. I mean… why can’t zombies find love, too?
Fiona: Name one entity that you feel supported you outside of family members.
Sue Brown again.
Fiona: Do you see writing as a career?
Yep – most definitely – it’s what I love to do and, luckily for me, right now I get to make a living doing what I love to do and am keeping my fingers crossed that it continues.
Fiona: If you had to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book?
Nope- not a thing. I am a bit of a pantser – fly by the seat of your pants writer – but if something needs to go in, the characters tend to tap me on the shoulder incessantly until I take the hint 🙂
Fiona: Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?
At school. When Mr Croucher, my primary school headteacher, gave me a gold star for my comprehension. I was hooked.
Fiona: Can you share a little of your current work with us?
He turned on the shower and stripped off while he waited for the water to heat up. Each item of clothing was stuffed into a waiting garbage, none ever touching the floor. A well thought out ritual that hadn’t failed him yet. He would burn them later.
The blood had already dried on his skin and he stroked a finger across his chest, the sensation hardening his cock immediately. He stepped into the shower and slid the frosted glass door shut, then stood beneath the cascading water. Quickly soaping up his hands, he palmed his erection and closed his eyes. This one had been a close call. He’d barely closed the door to the room before the maid had approached with her cleaning trolley. Luckily, he’d slipped behind a dumpster until she had unlocked the door and gone inside. His car had only been a few feet away so, by the time she’d screamed, he was already pulling out of the parking lot.
When He’d finally arrived at the club, the place had started to empty. He usually liked to take his time when making his selection, but the pickings had been slim; until He’d spotted the man hovering at the end of the bar, nervously scanning the dance floor. It had almost been too easy. This one had practically been begging to be slaughtered like the pig he was. A walking cliché so far in the closet he could see Narnia and stank of mothballs. He was middle-aged with obligatory wedding ring, starched shirt and crease in his pants, the whole nine yards. Desperate to be normal, but unable to contain his unnatural urges. It was kind of poetic actually. It had been such a man who had taken Him in that alley, against the wall, against His will. Except it hadn’t ended that way, had it?
He’d liked it. Liked the rough sensation of thick fingers on Him, inside Him. All that grunting and thrusting, white hot pain followed by blissful ecstasy. A man like this one had turned Him into everything He’d been raised to believe was wrong, a mortal sin, against God’s plan. But no matter how He’d tried, He couldn’t help but give in to the need that burned through Him—over and over again.
His fingers skated across the scars on his chest as he stroked his cock, the sensation sending shards of desire straight to his engorged flesh. There were many more like them on his back and buttocks. A constant reminder of his own perversions. As his father had attempted to rid him of this hideous disease, it was his duty to give others relief from their sins. And it was a relief. He could see it in their eyes in the final moments when the last breath left their bodies. Their silent prayer of thanks as he set them free. Last night’s had been no different.
He looked down the length of his torso at his cock, weeping freely as it slid between his curled fingers. The blood on his chest ran down his skin, dripped onto his cock and swirled towards the drain. The sight excited him further, the sense memory of the blood hitting his naked chest when he sliced into the man, sending a shiver down his spine and tightening his balls. His lips parted on a sigh as he remembered the glorious warmth of the spatter as the knife punctured flesh and scraped on bone, the man’s eyes bulging from their sockets, unable to do more than grunt around the duct tape silencing him.
He increased the pace of His strokes, His breath catching in His throat—so close, so close. He squeezed His eyes shut tightly, losing Himself as the satisfying final act replayed in His mind. The moment when He’d drawn the tip of his knife slowly around the base of the man’s cock. The fear, the terror that pressed the tendons in his neck to the surface, and etched themselves into every line on the man’s face as he realized this was it. This was the end.
A jab of the blade, the severing of an artery, the bowing of the man’s back as he held the dismembered organ in his fingers. Then the silent prayer when He plunged the knife into his chest, stilling the racing heart within forever.
It was all over. His balls tightened painfully and hot white strands of seed pumped from His throbbing cock, leaving Him breathless and leaning against the tile. He stared down at the floor and, watching the water turn pink as it washed away blood and semen—He smiled.
Fiona: Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?
All of it lol
Fiona: Who is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their work?
Stephen King. His ability to scare the pants of me and make me cry in the same book has always amazed me.
Fiona: Do you have to travel much concerning your book(s)?
Not right now – but I’m hoping to attend a few overseas conventions maybe next year.
Fiona: Who designed the covers?
Meredith Russell designs the majority of my covers – I love her style.
Fiona: What was the hardest part of writing your book?
All of it lol
Fiona: Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it?
I learned that it’s impossible to make everyone happy and give everyone the ending they are looking for. So I decided it’s easier to write the ending I want and hope for the best.
Fiona: Do you have any advice for other writers?
Don’t give up. Don’t listen to naysayers and keep going. Pursue your talent, don’t let anyone say you can’t do it.
Fiona: Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers?
Thank you for your faith and support. And I hope I can continue to give you stories you want to read 🙂
Fiona: Do you remember the first book you read?
The Amazing Mr Bumblemoose.
Fiona: Other than writing do you have any hobbies ?
I love knitting, it’s very therapeutic and reading. I also love nothing more than picking up a coloring book and some felt pens, it’s incredibly relaxing and I still get pens and a book for Christmas every year.
Fiona: What TV shows/films do you enjoy watching?
Supernatural, Rizzoli and Isles, Mike and Molly, The Big Bang
Fiona: Favorite foods / Colors/ Music
Steak and kidney pie, purple and Duran Duran.
Fiona: If you were not a writer what else would you like to have done?
When I was younger I always wanted to be a teacher. But it never happened.
Fiona: Do you have a blog/website? If so what is it?
my blog is http://www.lworrall.blogspot.com and my website is lisaworrall.com