For those that don’t know what these new featurettes will be about, here is the scoop! “You’ll Never Believe…” will feature the weirdest questions or encounters that authors have been asked/had. Might be about their books or random things, like meetings in a bathroom where someone asked what brand of toilet paper they normally use. Fun stuff and inside scoops that an author would not normally share.
Today, Cole McCade celebrates the release of his latest book, A Second Chance at Paris (Bayou’s End Book 1) with a funny anecdote. In fact his publicist told me… “OMG – this one had me laughing so hard I almost peed my pants.” YAY US!!! I love laughing that hard. 😛
Ready? This’ll be good! (LOL!!! His Twitter profile confused a few…) 😉
You’ll Never Believe with Cole McCade
So I’ve got a bit of a confession to make. Back in university, I wasn’t afraid to get a little naughty for pay. I wasn’t exactly an escort or anything that risqué, but I was a phone sex operator. Considering there weren’t many male PSOs back in those days, I was in pretty high demand and didn’t do half bad for myself. Paid for my textbooks and a few perks, at least. And I won’t lie, it was fun. I could tell a few interesting stories about that, like the sexy chicken and talking vibrator stories that made it around Twitter a while back—but that’s not quite what I’m here to talk about today.
See, those days are long past for me. I haven’t done it in quite some time; I’ve legitimized, if you want to put it that way. I now whore myself to C-level executives for other services. Might not be that different, but no one’s getting turned on. (I…um…I think.) So you can imagine that when my Twitter profile says “Most men who write dirty things for women get slapped; I generally try to get paid,” it’s a bit of a joke. You know—contemporary romance author, people buy my books? I’ve got one independent book out now plus my contract with Entangled Publishing, so, you know. I write sweet sexy naughty funny angsty things targeting the female market, I get paid for it, joke makes sense.
Well…some people didn’t quite take it that way.
One day I was cruising through the riot that is my Twitter feed, when someone I didn’t know suddenly tweeted at me, “I wouldn’t slap you.”
I blinked. And blinked again. I didn’t immediately make the connection, so I didn’t really know what she was talking about. For the moment, I just kind of moved on. I try to respond to everyone who tweets to me, but I didn’t know what to say, so I figured I’d come back once I worked something out.
But a few minutes later, she sends, “Unless you’re into that.”
I mean, we’re not going to talk about what I’m into. Y’all don’t know how my freak flag flies. But I had no clue what was going on or why she was saying these things to me, until it all crystallized when she sent “How much do you charge?”
Oh. Right. She was taking my Twitter profile literally.
While I’m still staring at the screen, my DMs light up. It’s her. And she’s asking me yet again how much I charge, and saying she won’t slap me unless I want her to—and asking what sort of things I do, what I’ll say to her, how dirty I get. I don’t think I’ve ever been that speechless in my life. I do make a living out of running at the mouth, after all.
But I finally knocked my brain back into place and came up with a response. I gently told her that I thought maybe she might have misunderstood my Twitter profile. The poor lady was mortified. She immediately apologized, deleted all the tweets and the DMs, and unfollowed me. (Otherwise I wouldn’t be talking about this—I wouldn’t want to embarrass her more if there was still record of this pointing to her.) I just sat there thinking, “…hm. Well. That was odd,” before moving on, thinking it was a one-time occurrence.
Since then I’ve had a good half-dozen propositions by DM. One flat-out said, no dissembling, “I’ll give you $100 for ten minutes.” Don’t think I wasn’t tempted. That’s good money; I don’t even charge that much at my day job. But I had a feeling I didn’t want to dig myself into that pit. Cole McCade, Telephone Gigolo. Doesn’t really have the right ring to it plus, to be perfectly honest? As the dulcet tones of youth have matured, I sound a bit more like Christian Bale after a long day of playing Batman: in other words, desperately in need of a lozenge. Some people say it’s sexy; I say pass the Halls.
And so they just keep coming, and not in the more colloquial sense of the word. I’ve been tempted to change my Twitter profile, just to avoid confusion.
But really…where’s the fun in that?
Exclusive EXCERPT of A Second Chance at Paris:
He stripped her bare and caressed her, fitted their naked bodies together, plied her lips; she opened for him in every way, denying him nothing. He kissed her with sweet desperation, dark with longing, until her throat closed and she couldn’t stand it anymore. She broke away and looked up at him through the blurred sheen of tears.
“Ion, please,” she whispered. “I leave tomorrow.”
“We still have one more night,” he said roughly, brows knitting. He threaded his fingers through her damp hair. “One more night, Cel.”
Her eyes filled, stinging. “One night is all it was ever meant to be.”
“Then if I can’t keep you…” He stroked callused fingers down her thigh and lowered himself to bring heat to heat, hardness nudging intimately against her as he lifted her into him. “Let me have as much of you as I can before you go.”
She couldn’t answer. Words would destroy her. She only kissed him, sealing her mouth to his and begging without words for all she could have of him—of them, this, together—for one last night.
A Second Chance at Paris by Cole McCade
One week in Paris. One chance with her childhood crush. And one lie that could ruin it all.
Before she was Dr. Celeste London, Astrophysicist, she was Mary Celeste Haverford: dork, loser, the geek formerly known as Hairy Mary. But she’d left all that behind—and left Ion Blackwell behind, nothing but an unrequited crush and the memory of a high school field trip, a night in Paris, and the words Celeste had never had the courage to say. She’d never expected to see him again…until a surprise encounter on a Parisian riverboat tour brings him back into her life, and gives her the opportunity to start over as someone new. Someone Ion doesn’t recognize, transformed from a social outcast into a polished, professional woman that Ion doesn’t realize is the girl he’s been longing for since childhood, the ideal he’s dreamed of his entire life.
Suddenly this vivacious (if charmingly awkward) “new” woman is teaching him that real love is better than any dream—but Celeste is hiding more than her identity. Hiding something that makes it hard to trust her increasingly erratic behavior, and her frequent secretive phone calls. When the truth comes out, the deception could shatter them both…unless they can give each other a second chance, and take a risk on love.
Cole McCade is a New Orleans-born Southern boy without the Southern accent, currently residing somewhere in the metropolitan wilds of the American Midwest. He spends his days as a suit-and-tie corporate consultant, and his nights writing romance novels in between fending off Tybalt, his geriatric cat. And while he spends more time than is healthy hiding in his writing cave instead of hanging around social media, you can generally find him in these usual haunts:
- Twitter: @ColeMcCade
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cole.mccade
- Website & Blog: https://www.colemccade.com
- Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8432536.Cole_McCade
- Tumblr: https://colemccade.tumblr.com/
You can also get early access to cover reveals, blurbs, contests, and other exclusives by joining the McCade’s Marauders street team at:
Fun Social Media Party with Ion Blackwell
“I like my private life to stay private.”
Infamous last words from Ion Blackwell, the hero of A Second Chance at Paris – and we’re going to make him eat those words on Thursday. From 4pm to 8pm Central U.S. Time on January 22nd, Poor Ion will be compelled to answer any question you ask…primarily because Cole’s making him. There will be snarling. There may even be blushing, if you can push that arrogant charmer far enough. But more than anything there’ll be raw, unfettered honesty, and a peek into whatever dirty details about Ion that you want to know.
So…just how deep do you want to get with Ion?