I owe Leigh a huge thank you for hosting me today. I’m trying something new, which is to chat up my book prior to getting a firm release date. Because of my impending move to Rome, I may soon experience a prolonged Internet blackout and have prescheduled my stops. To the best of my knowledge, my latest multicultural romance from Decadent Publishing comes out some time in July 2014 (so, depending on when you stumble upon this blog, it might be available now).
For updates as well as a chance to win a $25 gift card, drop by my website: TaraQuan.com/Owl
In honor of the place I consider home (what the government terms the National Capital Area), I’m dedicating the posts on this tour to Washington, D.C. and its surrounding suburbs. The romantic comedy I’m very blatantly promoting is set entirely in the US capital. A Beyond Fairytales adaptation of The Owl by Brothers Grimm, Operation Owl features a geeky hacker hero and his bookish best friend. They team up to expose a cyber conspiracy at the heart of the US government and end up indulging in some other equally exciting activities.
Waypoint: Dinner in the District
Since Leigh makes it clear up top that she “wants food and wine,” I thought this would be a good opportunity to talk about dinner in the district (she’ll have to fend for herself when it comes to sex and Rush tickets). One thing I discovered when I first moved to Arlington was that the restaurant to people ratio in the capital area is a tad lopsided (and it’s gotten worse over the years). I’ve experienced 2-hour wait times at Cheesecake Factory, called up Le Diplomate only to be offered a table at 9PM three days hence, and watched insanely long lines form on weekday evenings in front of mediocre sports bars.
Being both procrastinators and cheapskates, my husband and I have long since embraced home-cooked meals. Luckily, some of our friends are foodies, and they’ve managed to lure us into the culinary wilds of the D.C.-area upon occasion. If you’re looking for a nice place to do dinner, here’s my advice:
1. Happy Hour is a big deal here. Be prepared for crowds between 5:30-7:30 on weekdays wherever beer is served. Join the fun, or avoid this window—it’s up to you.
2. Consider getting a reservation for fancier places. Because there aren’t a huge number of them, decent restaurants in D.C. fill up quick. Which brings me to…
3. OpenTable.com can simplify your dining-out experience. It allows you to search for restaurants by area, look up their availability (or lack of availability, as the case may be), check their hours, peruse their menu, and get an estimated per-head price. For higher-end places, I’ve found the reviews to be more representative than Yelp. More importantly, this nifty website lets you put in your reservation with a few clicks in lieu of placing a phone call. There’s also a handy dandy app for your smartphone.And thus concludes my Capital Area tip for the day. Follow along at TaraQuan.com/Owl as I continue my tour at the blogs of some awesome romance authors.
Five years ago, Maya Jain kissed her best friend only to have him run out of her dorm room and leave the state. When he shows up in Washington, D.C., a wanted fugitive sought after by every branch of the US government, she can’t bring herself to ignore his plight. As their physical relationship picks up where it left off, she decides it’s time to make him see her as more than the bespectacled, bookish girl he once called “Owl.”
After being accused of espionage and treason, Zack Strong needs a forensic accountant to help clear his name. Not knowing who he can trust, this white-hat hacker has no choice but to ask his former best friend and math tutor for help. Together they unravel a cyber conspiracy at the Barn, an NSA facility tasked to intercept electronic communications. But as they traverse the nation’s capital to avoid capture, Maya insists on letting their simmering sexual tension take its natural course. Even though he’s never been able to shake the memory of their one kiss, he refuses to let her give up her life for a man with no future.
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Comedy, Multicultural
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Globetrotter, lover of languages, and romance author, Tara Quan has an addiction for crafting tales with a pinch of spice and a smidgen of kink. Inspired by her travels, Tara enjoys tossing her kick-ass heroines and alpha males into exotic contemporary locales, fantasy worlds, and post-apocalyptic futures. Armed with magical powers or conventional weapons, her characters are guaranteed a suspenseful and sensual ride, as well as their own happily ever after. Learn more at www.taraquan.com
Hesitating at the threshold of stalker-like activity, the logical part of his brain made one last-ditch attempt to stall his fingers. This wasn’t acceptable behavior, not by any stretch of the imagination. He should wait and see what happened. If push came to shove, he could always abandon his post and knock on her door.
But he’d been sitting there for ages, an abnormal amount of time for anyone to spend in the bathroom. She could have passed out in there, and then where would they be? His brain’s paranoid frontal lobe ended up winning the battle. He needed a quick peek, a brief glance to confirm her location. If the trick gave him a glimpse of her in the shower, the curtain would obscure his view. If he saw even a hint of skin, he’d shut the damn feed off. No harm could come of this.
He accessed her webcam and turned it on. As luck would have it, the computer was angled at the open bathroom door, the only part of her apartment he couldn’t see into from the street. With the wall-to-wall mirror completely visible on screen, it wouldn’t be hard to ascertain her presence. A few keystrokes allowed him to enhance the high definition feed and zoom in. A light coating of condensation blurred the reflection by a fraction, but the open doors allowed most of it to dissipate. The reflected image was clear enough to make out shapes and colors.
The footage presented a profile view of Maya lying in a bathtub. Since he could only make out her face, neck, and left arm, he didn’t see an immediate need to cease and desist. Her head rested against the tub’s lip, cushioned by her long, dark hair. With her eyes closed and lips parted, he couldn’t tell if she was conscious. What if she had slipped in the shower and hit her head?
He cranked up the microphone’s sensitivity. The great thing about modern-day computers was their much-improved capability to process audio and video. As soon as she made a sound or moved, he’d stop watching.
A soft, throaty moan crackled over the speakers. Her left hand lifted in the air before clenching over the side of the tub. Her back and neck arched.
Slapping down his laptop screen, Zack leaned back against the leather headrest and massaged his temples. Struggling not to draw any conclusions, he muttered, “Don’t go there, man. Just don’t go there.”