A competitive figure skater from the age of eight, Stacy Gail began writing stories in between events to pass the time. By the age of fourteen, she told her parents she was either going to be a figure skating coach who was also a published romance writer, or a romance writer who was also a skating pro. Now with a day job of playing on the ice with her students, and writing everything from steampunk to cyberpunk, contemporary to paranormal at night, both dreams have come true.

 I know everyone asks this but why did you decide to write romance?

SG: Ooh, I love answering this question! I was a big Trixie Belden fan as a kid, and I’d rewrite the endings so that Trixie and her crush, Jim Frayne, always wound up in kissy-kissy mode.  I’m a born romantic.
What was the hardest thing you had to do when you started?

SG: When I first got published in 2011, I had no idea how to do elevator pitches.  It seemed incomprehensible to me! How the heck was I supposed to take a 60K-word book and explain it in two to three sentences??? I’m still not a fan, but at least I don’t weep in despair at the term anymore…at least not where anyone can hear me.
What was the easiest thing?

SG: Plot bunnies!   I love-love-LOVE that moment of inspiration that can come right out of the blue and hit you like a brick between the eyes.  Almost every day, some form of plot bunny hops by.  The ones that hang around to bug me are the ones I write about.
How long did it take you to finish your first manuscript and where did the idea come from?

SG: Heh, I was fourteen, the book was a romantic suspense, a monster of a book around 300 pages long!
The inspiration: We were studying fossil fuels versus alternative fuels in my 9th grade earth science class, and I got the idea of a miraculous fuel-alternative that would put the oil companies out of business, and how they wouldn’t want that.  It pretty much went from there. 😛
Tell me about your first contract?

SG: You mean the thing I almost fainted about? *laughs* It was with the amazing Samhain Publishing, and I’d tried to get into a “sweet romance” anthology (despite not knowing what sweet romance was :D).  I basically threw in everything but an actual sex scene and, no surprise, it didn’t make the anthology. But BEST MAN, WORST MAN did get offered a contract!
Do you base any of your stories on real people or places or events?

SG: Not people really, but PLACES… oh, yeah.  For some reason, I can only write about places I know fairly well—San Francisco, Denver, Dallas, Chicago, San Antonio, Boston, New York City…the list goes on and on.  But I simply CAN’T write about a place I haven’t experienced for myself.  Don’t ask me why, my brain rarely makes sense.  O_o
What gets you in the mood to write?

SG: Bookstores!  Nothing inspires me more than being surrounded by the obvious genius of others.
Where do you see yourself 5 years from now? 10 years?

SG: Hopefully 5 years from now I’ll still be teaching figure skating part-time.  Since I’ve been on the ice all my life, it’s hard to imagine that it wouldn’t be a part of my life in some capacity.  As for my writing, I hope I’ll have had a couple completed series out by then, including The Earth Angels, as this four-part PNR series should come to an end around this time next year.  And ten years from now… I thoroughly plan to have a couple of boy-toys ready to respond to my every whim *snort*
What do you enjoy most about being an author?

SG: I get paid to make up stories.  How amazing is that???
Okay, quick fun questions:

Favorite ice cream
SG: Cookies and Cream
Favorite music
SG: Alternative Rock
Favorite movie
SG:  Moulin Rouge
Favorite time to write
SG: Morning
If you could be stranded with a movie or television star who would you pick?

SG:  Jeremy Renner, because he looks… capable. *fans self*
If someone played you in a movie who would it be and why?

SG: A short, ice-skating Julia Roberts. We have the same laugh. 😀


Book one in The Earth Angels

 Investigative journalist Kendall Glynn is horrified when a friend and colleague signs off permanently during a live newscast, jabbing a pen into his jugular. Kendall’s no expert, but judging by the strange white veil in the anchorman’s eyes, she would swear he was a man possessed.

A descendant of the accursed Nephilim, Zeke Reece prowls San Francisco by night, keeping the city free from paranormal phenomena. But even he is no match for whatever malevolent force is behind a recent rash of murder-suicides. And when a beautiful tenacious reporter becomes the next target, Zeke has no choice but to stay close to her, until he can find the evil spirit and cross it over.

The closer Kendall gets to the truth, the more danger she’s in. Fortunately, a sexy and mysterious masked stranger keeps swooping in to the rescue. Kendall’s life depends on finding who or what is responsible for the killings, before it finds her.


“You,” she breathed. She struggled to get a clear view of him, but it was a hopeless task. Even if a mask hadn’t covered half his face, the darkness around him seemed deeper, like an impenetrable black hole where no light could exist. “Where… How…”

“Quiet.” The tension in his voice was palpable. She could even feel it in the body that pinned her to the alley wall, thrumming with a kill-or-be-killed urgency that made her own pulse pound. “It took off once it diverted me. I can’t believe how smart it is.”

“What’s smart?” Shadows filled the places where his eyes should be, leaving dark pools of endless mystery. Belatedly she realized their bodies touched in one long line from chest to knees, and it was all she could do to pull a coherent thought together. “What took off? Why did you attack me?”

A low growl emanated from him. “I didn’t attack you, I saved your life. Again. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“You saved me? From what, that out-of-control scooter? I’ll admit, I never heard it coming—”

“That’s because it wasn’t running at the time.”

“What?” Her eyes went wide as horror began to creep in. “That’s impossible.”

“Impossible is the definition of your life lately.” She sensed more than saw his head angle closer to hers, as if to share intimate whispers in the dark. A shiver she knew he must have felt shook her when the feathering of his breath caressed her lips.

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