Hi there. I’m Bailey Bradford, and I’m here to chat about my new release, Bearly There, the first book in the City Shifters series, and how the story came about.
Inspiration for my stories come from so many different places. Something Shattered came about because I walked out my front door one day, and for some reason, at that particular moment, the mobile homes across the street from me really caught my attention. These were pretty old mobile homes, one of them silver, the other white and brown. The porch on the white one looked like it was about to fall apart, and I just imagined someone sitting there, sunglasses on because…Sun. From there, my mind ran with the story.
A lot of my inspiration is visual, something I hadn’t realized until just recently. A scenic view can and has inspired entire series. There are so many photos I’ve taken that I want to incorporate into stories!
Bearly There, the first book in my new City Shifters series, was inspired by a picture I saw of a man wearing tiny shorts, a pink boa, and bunny ears. Hence, Bunny Boy was born, and Jagger was ever so grateful for that. Their fun story is one of my favorites to have written.
Jagger happens to be a bear shifter, and Bunny Boy, despite the name, is not a bunny shifter. Though that would have been cute. See, there goes another idea, taking up space in my brain and percolating.
But back to Jagger and Bunny Boy! Jagger works too hard and doesn’t play enough. I had no problem at all envisioning him behind a desk, the window behind him showing it was night outside, Jagger’s hair would be sticking up in places because he’d been so frustrated and stressed, he kept running his hands through it as he tried to figure out how to get a job done for a client. His mind would be racing with all the problems in his life, and in the lives of those he cared about. I went onto the photo site I use for pictures, and found a man who, to me, was Jagger. Seeing him helped to develop his personality.
Once Jagger and Bunny Boy’s story started in my head, it played out like a movie. Sometimes I could see everything I was writing, sometimes it was fuzzy, but still, that first phot of the man in the bunny ears set the tone and pace for the entire book.
I don’t know where the next bit of inspiration will come from, but you can bet I’m keeping my eyes open and looking for it.
About Bailey Bradford:
A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn’t happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey’s brain demanding to be let out.
Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey’s office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey’s presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.
Bearly There blurb:
Book one in the City Shifters series
One surly bear and one bunny boy…what could possibly go wrong?
Jagger Osterman is having a bad day. In fact, he’s not the slightest bit impressed with 2015 at all. His job is on the line, and it’s not like he loves being a marketing wunderkind, but he has to do something to pay the bills. If he had his way, he’d just vanish into the mountains and live out his life as the black bear he yearns to shift into. Unfortunately, Jagger doesn’t have the time to let his beast run. He has responsibilities that he can’t walk away from.
Kevin Kelly could tell Jagger a thing or two about bad days, bad years, and just out and out bad luck. He made the mistake of smarting off to a curandera years ago and hasn’t been able to shake the curse she put on him yet. There’s not an area of his life that hasn’t been screwed up in one way or another. As a pronghorn shifter, he’d be okay on his own in the wild. Sure, there’d be predators, but Kevin had come to realize the worst predators were the human kind.
But he can’t shift. He’s been solidly bound to human form since being cursed.
Two men, both trapped in their own ways. They’re about to find out that freedom comes in many forms.
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It’d been a long damn time since an attractive guy had showed any interest in him. And when Kevin was dressed in pink and shorts that would make a Hooters’ girl blush? Well, he was already feeling like a moron.
So he’d thought, just going by the way Jagger had ogled him, that maybe Jagger was interested. For a few seconds, anyway, until Kevin’s attempt at a flirtatious smile failed.
But it didn’t matter, because Jagger the Stud was now glaring like he was ready to swat Kevin upside the head. Having had just such an experience the day before, Kevin wasn’t eager for a repeat. He plastered on a smile he hoped was obviously fake and benign. Then he tried not to let his sudden nervousness make him botch the song and dance routine.
It’d be easier if he was a naturally talented guy, at least in the singing and dancing department. As it was, he could barely carry a tune in a bucket, and he had to use the same single dance for every delivery he made, including the strip-o-grams. That damned dance was going to stay in his repertoire forever—he’d practiced until his feet had bled. His one, solitary dance.
God, he hated his job. His bunny ears kept slipping. He had the wedgie to end all wedgies. Jagger still looked like he wanted to smack Kevin. Kevin wiggled his butt and shook his bunny tail, then turned and bent over so that Jagger got an eyeful of pert ass and white fluff. If that didn’t wipe away some of that irritation, then Kevin was surely not going to get a tip.
Kevin might not know how to dance except for his one routine, but he sure knew how to shake his ass. He did so then, peering back over his shoulder to see that Jagger’s gaze was right where he wanted it.
Kevin just hoped it wasn’t because he had a hole in his shorts. That’d be his luck.
He spread his legs a little more and did a gyrating move guaranteed to bring any cock to life. Jagger’s gasp might have been too soft for anyone else to hear it, but Kevin did. He was only the space of the desk and a step away from the guy. The woman who’d been in the chair had moved, taking the chair with her.
Kevin felt a devilish urge to screw with Jagger, just because the man seemed so… Whatever he was. Handsome, snarly, horny, judgy—Kevin didn’t know him, didn’t know what had made him get that look on his face earlier, but Kevin wanted to poke. Just like a moron poking at a rattlesnake with a toothpick. Yup, I’m that kinda stupid today.
He’d blame it on the lack of food. Kevin turned slowly, making sure he had some good hip movement going on. He pursed his lips at Jagger and lowered his eyelids until he could barely see. Hopefully, it was a sexy look. If not, well, there wasn’t much help for it.
Jagger didn’t seem to be laughing at him. Instead, those hot, honey-colored eyes were focused on him with an intensity that threatened to give Kevin a boner. Not a good thing to have happen in the tiny shorts he had on.
Kevin concentrated on Jagger, refusing to think about his own body lest he wind up with his pecker poking out for everyone to see.
Jagger, with his dark brown hair and thick eyebrows, wide eyes slightly tilted down at the outer corners, the broad planes of his cheeks and the heavy five o’clock shadow—he looked more like a lumberjack than a businessman. Kevin would bet he’d be something to see in faded jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt. Oh, lumbersexual! Now I get the appeal!
Even though he’d be a damned stud in plaid flannel, the suit was good, too. High quality, Kevin would bet. He glanced at Jagger’s lips. Those were just made to be wrapped around—
No, no, no! Kevin leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. There was only one file on the surface, and he was careful enough not to touch it. He dipped his head down and howls and cheers came from the people watching behind him.
He reminded himself that this wasn’t a strip-o-gram and he was in an office setting. Well, that hadn’t meant anything before, but he wasn’t supposed to be emulating giving head. Kevin rolled over and scooted up onto the desk. He sat with one leg cocked and the other straight, toes pointed, arms flung wide, and he bellowed the rest of the lyrics with his head tipped up toward the ceiling.
He couldn’t look at Jagger. The man’s scent was such a turn-on, whatever cologne it was. Kevin wanted to bury his nose against Jagger’s neck and sniff out the source of it, discover the true core of the man buried under the fragrance. He wanted to lick that skin and—
Oh shit, now he’d done it. “Happy birthday,” he warbled, the last two words to the song made much louder by everyone else shouting them along with Kevin.
Kevin rolled his eyes enough to kind of see Jagger. The man was blurry, but he was still watching Kevin. Maybe. Maybe not. Kevin was getting a crick in his neck.
And the damned bunny ears fell off. “Whoops.” Kevin twisted around to see if they were on the desk behind him. His hand slid and he toppled backwards. In that split second, he braced himself for pain.
Copyright Bailey Bradford 2016
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