About the Book
Title: A Hard Days Night
Authors: Anastasia Winters and Greg Godek
Genre: Romance
Author Bios
Anastasia Winters
I’ve been a writer of romances for
twenty-nine years, but an author (meaning published) for, um, one month.
I wrote my first romance in First Grade (“The True Story of Cinderella and
Anastasia”), then wrote about a million pages of an unknown number of romance
stories before I (and my writing partner) penned A Hard Days Night—this,
my first published romance novel. OMG!
Somehow it turned out to be an erotic
romance, so please don’t tell my mother.
But I do have my mother to thank for
introducing me (unbeknownst to her) to the wondrous world of romances. I
somehow stumbled upon her copy of Love’s Wild Desire—Jennifer Blake’s
406-page exploration of unbidden ecstasy—in the back of her closet, behind the
shoeboxes, under the magazines—when I was eight. I didn’t know what was going
on most of the time in that novel, but I did know that I was intrigued,
baffled and thoroughly hooked (I didn’t yet know what it meant to be “turned
on”!) I spent the next sixteen years as a closet reader of romances. Sixteen
years! My English professors and my fellow students would have been aghast
if they had known I read those “trashy” books. It was my guilty pleasure.
I came out when I was twenty-four. (I
happened to watch the films The Bridges of Madison County and The
Notebook within two days of each other), and—in a blinding flash of the
obvious—I realized that these tremendous romances had managed to cross over
into the mainstream of American culture. My insight: Romances didn’t deserve to
be labeled as “trashy”! It’s then that I went public. And despite my
trepidation the world didn’t end, my cat didn’t leave me, and my reputation
suffered not at all.) So there you go.
I still can’t believe that I’m the writing
partner of Greg Godek. (He’s a bestseller! He’s been on Oprah! OMG!) He
and I have an amazing working relationship, and as a male-female writing team
we seem to be nearly unique.
I
have a pretty good imagination, but I can’t imagine you’d want to read any more
about me at this point. How about if, instead, you read my next romance
novel. And the next and the next and the next and the next. Just a thought.
Greg Godek
I’ve been
writing relationship books (advice for real life romances) for twenty years,
and writing romances for a three. Back in the roaring 90s I wrote and
published 1001 Ways to be Romantic. The stars must have been aligned
because I sold three million copies. Somewhere along the line I lost my mind
and decided it was a good idea to undertake the biggest booksigning tour in the
history of publishing: Two years spent criss-crossing America aboard a custom
36-foot RV, visiting 43 states and 189 bookstores. Along the way I was invited to appear on Oprah, Donahue, The Today Show and Good Morning America; my advice and antics have appeared in The Sunday New York Times, The Boston Globe, Cosmo, Playboy, Reader’s Digest and (honest to god) The National Enquirer.
The genesis of 1001 Ways to be Romantic is too long a story to relate here, but the highlights are…teaching romance seminars for ten years before sitting down to write the book…and a longstanding fascination with the complex relationship between fictional romance and real life romance.
I feel honored to be welcomed into the community of romance writers. As one of the few males in the sorority I’m both an insider and an outsider, and I’m experiencing what it’s like to be a minority. (Hmmm, sounds like the plot for a romance novel!)
I’m
also lucky to have met my co-author Anastasia Winters. (Now that’s a
crazy story! For another time.) Anastasia and I are currently writing the
sequels to A Hard Days Night and we’re toying with ideas for some erotic
romance for men. Look out below!
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Book Excerpt
Maxwell and
Abbey looked down from the rafters and watched the frantic female fans running
this way and that. Abbey imagined what might happen if the gaggle of groupies
spotted them. “What would they do to me? Ignore me? Beat me up? Shove me
aside? Stomp on me with their heels? I can see myself on the cover of The
National Enquirer—face gashed, two black eyes, disheveled hair with a
stunned, wide-eyed look on my face. The headline: ’Unknown Woman Nearly Killed
in Mob of Mad Maxwell Groupies.’ The photo caption: ’Mystery woman nearly left
for dead after a backstage stampede of frantic women chased Maxwell.’ And ’She
was way out of her league,’ commented one busty blonde.”
Abbey looked
around at their precarious perch. The catwalk hung in open space above the
stage like a strand of a spider’s web. “We’re so exposed!” she thought.
She whispered
to Maxwell, “They’ll easily see us if they look up!” She shuddered at the
thought of it.
Maxwell
shook his head confidently. “Those stage lights over there are shining down on
them. If they look up, the glare will blind them. And anyway, we’re in the shadows.”
He smiled.
“He is so
confident!” Abbey thought. “He just exudes it. I’ve never been in the presence
of anyone so confident.” And then as an afterthought, “It’s so sexy!”
They sat
quietly together as the gals skittered this way and that below them. Their
breath slowed.
Abbey felt
as though she were in a movie…A series of black-and-white images flashed
through her mind…crowds of girls running…screaming…rock stars running for their
lives. She turned her head just as Maxwell turned toward her…and simultaneously
they both whispered, “A Hard Day’s Night!” And they nearly fell over
laughing—and tried to muffle the sound with their hands clapped tightly over
their mouths.
They huddled
together in the dark, waiting out the storm. They looked at each other and
grinned. The silence stretched on, and Abbey felt surprisingly at ease. Well,
it was an ease with an undercurrent of electricity.
She didn’t
want to ask. She thought, “I don’t want to appear insecure.” But
she couldn’t help herself. She turned toward him and whispered, “Why me?”
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