I sat down with Kat Addams to talk funny stories, kangaroo balls, and her new book Nashvegas Nights!
When did you realize or decide you wanted to be a writer?
I’ve always had a love for reading, which became a love of writing when I was around the age of five. I wrote my first story about a rabid bear. As terrifying as that sounds, it was a comedy! Writing has improved since then, but creativity and ridiculousness have stayed the same.
What has been your best experience as an author so far?
I’d say my best experience so far has been hearing from readers. When a reader reaches out to me and tells me that I made their day or they thought something was hilarious and couldn’t stop laughing, that is goals for me. I love making people laugh!
What sort of challenges have you faced as a writer? How did you overcome them?
Mommyhood. The struggle is real. I began writing when I was pregnant, and now, eight years later, I’m finally able to get back to where I started. When I had my daughter, I became a stay-at-home mom. At the end of the day, I was too exhausted to focus on much. Now, with my daughter in school, I can get back to the grind. I give so many props to those women writing while they have young ones in diapers at home! My mind doesn’t work when my child is around. I think they call it mom brain!
How do you research and plan your books? Do you find outlining helps or hinders your process?
For my Dirty South series, I’ve traveled to the cities in my books. My first book is based in Memphis where I live so that was an easy one! The second book is based in Nashville, which was inspired by a really wild girl’s trip! And my third book is based in New Orleans. I am a total pantser and don’t outline for the most part. I may scribble some notes here and there, but I usually sit and let the words flow.
Have you learned anything really cool or interesting while researching your books? What’s been the weirdest research you’ve ever had to do?
I recently looked up the size of a kangaroo’s balls. I’d say that takes the cake as far as weird. Also, I had to look up old-school wrestling moves recently. So, I guess you can say I’m a pro-wrestler now. I’m still working on my wrestling name, but I have plenty of leather outfits and maybe a cape.
What advice would you give to new writers in the field?
Patience. I don’t have any! But I hear that is what new writers need.
Tell us a little about your writing nook! Favorite tea/coffee/writing snack?
Getting into the writing mood is the same as getting into my frisky mood. Candles, ambient music, lots of heavy breathing. No, wait! That’s not right on that last one! I meant healthy eating … such as grapes … in the form of wine.
Of all of your own characters, who would you most want to date?
Jason Jones from Nashvegas Nights! I love a man who can sing and play instruments. One strum of his guitar and I’d be strumming his flute. It happens.
What project are you currently working on?
I’m super excited about my next project! It’s a four-book series launching in April of 2020. Expect lots of strong heroines, ridiculous antics, and steamy scenes. I’ll be officially announcing the series and titles in December!
What’s next for you?
I’m still very new and trying to grow my readers! I have a few ideas for next year that involves swag and subscriptions, but who knows when that will happen. I’m doing my best to focus on writing and building a base.
Kat Addams is a forever twenty-nine-year-old fashionista following her lifelong dream of writing contemporary romance inspired by the exotic men she meets in her worldly travels. At least, that’s what she would like for you to think. She’s certainly not a stay-at-home mom indulging in excessive daydreaming, frozen pizzas, an unhealthy addiction to purchasing pajamas, and one too many cocktails on the regular. That’s some other romance author. The poor thing probably has to sneak away upstairs to write her dirty stories! What would her family think? Thankfully, that’s not Kat
You can find me everywhere, but I’m mostly an Instagram girl! If you have Instagram be sure to check out my stories and highlights. Besides the drama with my blow-up boytoy, I have tours of places described in my books and maybe even some crazy wine reviews!
If you’re still not sure about me, you can visit my website and join my newsletter for a free e-book (Hotty Toddy!) so you can try the cow before you buy the milk. Moo!
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About the Book
Tell us a little about your new release: Nashvegas Nights
Nashvegas Nights is my latest release from the Dirty South series. It’s releasing November 8th! Like all of my books, it can be read as a stand-alone contemporary romantic comedy. It’s also super steamy. Check the synopsis below!
What happened backstage, didn’t always stay backstage … in Nashvegas.
Music Row star, Jason Jones loved three things— his dog, ice-cold beer, and gorgeous redheads. His life sounded like a country song … and he had the baggage to prove it. One minute he was onstage crooning to a flame-haired goddess, and then he was backstage giving her an encore she’d never forget.
Neither would he …
Hot mess express, Dorothy Elizabeth Prudence was a nurse by day and lonely by night. With a name like that, she never got laid. That was about to change, thanks to her “wing-woman” bestie.
Hitting Nashville’s Music Row for a wild night had seemed like an excellent idea. She was only looking for a good time but found a lot more than she bargained for.
They both did …
Where did your inspiration for the book come from?
I took a really wild girl’s trip to Nashville last May! Needless to say, things got a little crazy!
Did you outline the story, or dive right in?
I jumped right into the story and had the characters lead me where they wanted to go. At times they led me into some pretty sketch scenes, but I trusted them. It’s all good. Fingers crossed.
How did your characters come to life?
I pull from what I know. Some of the crazier personality traits may come from a crazy aunt or friend. Some of the better personality traits probably come from me. Liz, my main character, is a crazy redhead. Let’s just say she can be a hot mess. That couldn’t have possibly come from me because I’m a fake redhead!
Did you do any cool or interesting research for this story? What did you learn?
I did! I partied all night long at Music Row! For research purposes, of course. I learned that Nashville is not only for cowboys. There are some freaks among them and I love it!
What was your favorite part of working on this story? What was the most challenging?
My favorite part of any of my stories is banter. I love, love, love banter. Writing banter comes easy for me. The parts I struggle with is usually feelings. I sometimes have a hard time balancing comedy, sex, and love. Sometimes I want to get angsty, but I know my books are strictly rom-com and I have to pull away from that. I wouldn’t want to shock the reader into something wildly different than my usual mess your pants laughs.
What’s next for this story – is it part of a series? When does it come out?
Nashvegas Nights is the second book in the Dirty South series. The next and final book in the series, Mr. Big Ego, is launching in February 2020.
“Thanks for lunch, by the way. I appreciate it, and I appreciate you showing me your shop,” Liz said.
“It’s my pleasure. And, Liz, I want to make up for the other night. Being caught in the rain and all. I was wondering, can I take you out again—soon? Something simpler. Maybe pizza and dancing?”
“First, it’s hot chicken, and now, it’s pizza. Are you trying to turn me into a butterball? You know the way to my heart has always been paved with grease … and maybe some vodka too.”
“Is this a trick question? Because I do like that juicy ass of yours.”
I took a bite of my sandwich and immediately felt my eyes begin to water. Surely, they hadn’t messed up my order. I thought I’d ordered a medium-heat level. I glanced over at Liz, who had also just bitten into her sandwich. Her face turned an odd shade of purple.
“Holy shit! Did you order the extra-extra hot?” she said as she clutched her throat.
“No! I didn’t. I think they messed my order up. Damn!” I choked back tears as I handed her a bottle of water from the take-out bag.
I guzzled my own water down as I made a mental note to stop and get some antacids before I headed home. I loved spicy food, but whatever seasoning was on this chicken had come straight from the pits of hell.
“You don’t have to eat it! Here, have some of these piggy chips.” I handed her a box stained with grease spots. The film it had left on my fingers gave me instant regret.
“I can handle it. Fire, right?” she said as she took another bite. Her face was still a scary shade of purple that I’d never seen before.
I continued eating and started to break out in a sweat. “Okay, firecracker, I see your resilient taste buds and match them with my own.” I licked my fingers, wincing, and I was pretty sure my eyes had halfway popped out of my head at this point as well. Maybe I had the purple-face thing going on too.
We finished our meals in a state of competitive agony while she rattled off items she had thought needed to be done at the café. She fished out of her purse a pen and wrote our to-do list on the back of an old Target receipt.
I wondered just how much help she would be. It would be hard to get anything done around her.
I listened to her talk, but my gaze kept wandering to her lips—those beautiful, spicy lips.
“And then I think you should do some industrial- style barstools and then maybe—are you even listening to me?”
“I am! I just so love the way you get excited and how the little corners of your mouth get wider and wider and wider. It makes me excited, and then I lose my train of thought, thinking just how much I want to touch those lips.”
She pursed her lips out. “Fine! Touch them then. But kiss me after.”
I reached out and brushed her soft, parted lips with my fingers. I could feel my breath growing heavy. Her long, slow sigh was a green light for me.
“Come on.” I pulled her back inside toward the counter.
“Wait! We’re hanging this up!” She wedged the to-do list on the back wall, front and center.
“Up you go too!” I grabbed her hips and set her on the countertop, and we both began to quickly get her scrubs off. I unbuttoned my pants before I realized I didn’t have a rubber. “Well, shit. I’m just not ever prepared for anything! I don’t have a condom. I’m sorry!”
“Already on it,” she said as she grabbed a condom from her purse.
“Wow, you really are on top of things!”
“I’m about to be on top of things.” She licked her lips.
“Not before I finish what I started last night,” I growled.
I leaned down and gently spread her apart as I tasted every sweet bit of her. She arched her back and moaned while I traced my name with my tongue along her clit. J-A-S-O-N and again and again. I stroked my hard cock while she bucked against my face.
I abruptly pulled my head up. How the fuck did she know my little trick?
“Jason! Stop! Fuck! Oh my gosh! I’m on fire. Fuck. Fuck!”
“What? What happ—”
And that was when I felt it. Penis ablaze. Also, fire all over my cheeks and lips, my fingers, and somehow my rib cage. That was weird.
“Holy shitballs! My dick!”
“I need a paper towel! My biscuits are burnin’! My biscuits are burnin’!” She hopped down from the counter and waddled over toward a sink.
I didn’t know how I was going to tell her I didn’t have the water turned on yet. I was too busy clutching my dick with my jalapeño hands and making it even worse.
“No … water …” I managed to squeak out while I squeezed what little life was left in my little man, fanning it and hopping around like I’d just been bitten … by a fucking hot chicken—on the dick.
“Oh no!” She fanned herself and leaned down to try to blow between her legs.
She was surprisingly pretty flexible. I wondered if she did yoga.
“Do we have any water left? I drank all mine! Did you?” She skipped around, still frantically fanning herself.
I wasn’t sure if her pussy was blushing pink from my tongue or from being inflamed. I decided both.
“Hold on! I got one in my truck! Stay put. I’ll put out the fire in the hole!”
I’d stuffed my achy snake back in my pants and hobbled to the door. When I got back with the water, Liz looked as if she were in labor. She bent over the counter, slowly rocking back and forth, pants still down, and breathing heavy. If I wasn’t on fire myself, I might have been turned on. My cock jumped a little. I guessed I was still turned on even if my balls were about to melt off.
“Here! Put it on a napkin and shove it up there! Let me help!” I doused the napkin with water before she grabbed it from me and held it to her crotch with a loud and almost-orgasmic sigh of relief.
I was pretty sure I’d heard a sizzle.
I wet the other napkin and wrapped my willy like a bandage. Now, I had a burned and useless arm and a burned and useless cock.
“Are you okay? I’m so damn sorry, Liz. I had no idea that would happen.” I hung my head in shame.
“That had to be the hottest sex I’d ever had!” She laughed. “I mean, you literally gave me fire crotch. It’s like you took a chili pepper and planted it right there in between my lips.”
“My lips too! And cheeks. And dick. I think it might fall off any second now. I couldn’t help but touch it when I was facedown in you. You tasted … so damn good, and I just—” I growled before a fresh wave of heat flushed through my cock and sent it shriveling back into hiding.
Liz was still laughing with each wince I gave, which made her wince and me laugh again until we were both in a fit of giggles and pain.
“Think it’s okay? You’re the nurse. Should I go get some of that burn cream?”
“No! Don’t touch it. It will be fine. It just needs to wear off. It will—shortly, I hope.” She hobbled over to me and smiled. “I need to kiss those spicy lips of yours before I go. I’m going to be late if I don’t leave now.”
“I don’t want you to have flaming lips now, too, though!”
“It’s worth it.” She leaned in and pressed her mouth against mine.
Our bodies both instantly relaxed into a puddle of heat—stupid hot-chicken heat.
“Two for two now. One disaster after another. How about that pizza and dancing Friday? I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“All you have to say is pizza, and I’m there!” “All right. Pizza.”
“See you Friday!”
I watched her turn to leave. There wasn’t a pep in her step this time. Just a cringe and a hop as she grabbed her crotch and ran out the door.
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