Author Spotlight on Denise Gwen!

The Passionate Writer’s Blog

Author Spotlight: Denise Gwen

Denise Gwen

I am thrilled to have author Denise Gwen as today’s guest. Denise has written several contemporary romance novels, among them Trailer Park WivesThe Single-Wide Edition.

KH:         Welcome, Denise! Your novel, Trailer Park Wives, is available on Amazon.

KH:         What genre is it?

DG:        A blend of contemporary, comedy, drama.

KH:         What is the heat level?

DG:        Hot!

KH:         Give us a little insight as to the inspiration behind this novel.

DG:        I loved Desperate Housewives and watched the first two seasons with tremendous interest. I loved how darkly subversive it was and yet at the same time, darkly funny. I decided to write my own version of Desperate Housewives, but with women who didn’t live in gorgeous, million-dollar Craftsman  homes and with the luxury to engage in a pampered lifestyle. My housewives are struggling just to pay the lot rent.

KH:         Interesting twist! I think we all loved Desperate Housewives, to be honest. The writing was great, and as you say, there was definitely an element of darkness woven into the humorous storylines. In Trailer Park Wives, what do you think readers will love most about your hero/heroine?

DG:        There are four heroines, and each woman reflects a different type of person. I hope readers will love all four women, but they may find themselves identifying more with one particular woman than another. Deena is the mother of four children by two different fathers, and dealing with children’s protective services. Lettie is obese, the mother of three little boys, and dealing with a philandering husband. Cierra is a single Latina mom, living with her mother and her two children from two different men, and holding down a cocktail waitressing job. And Samantha, with a teenage daughter to support now that her husband’s in prison, has to grind on a pole to make ends meet.

KH:         Just like Desperate Housewives! A cast of characters, each with their own struggles. Do you have a favourite moment or scene that you would like to share here?

Trailer Park Wives

BUY LINK: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B006XYJUDA

DG:        Yes, here it is:

__“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Bree, the twins’ sixteen-year old babysitter, jumped up from the overstuffed couch where’d she been lying, half-naked, beside a forty-year old man. Shirtless and with his jeans pulled down to his knees, he fumbled with his underpants as Bree grabbed her shirt from the back of a chair and buckled her jeans closed.

Deena gazed at the man’s skanky, skinny ass. An enormous tattoo danced across his butt cheeks. In black ink, a gigantic rat with a cartoon bubble above his head, declared, “Shit!”

Well, if that didn’t just sum it all up.

With Ian on her left hip, and Clare, diaper-less, dribbling poo, on her right, Deena glowered from the doorway of her mobile home. She gazed at the man with a look of cold hatred. Still reclining on the couch, the man shimmied his jeans up to his ass and tucked his dick back inside.

“Get out. Get out before I kick you out!”

Bree buttoned up her blouse and grabbed her bag. She flung a look at the man. “I told you this was a bad idea. I told you I’d get in trouble.”

Ah, love.

The man took his time rolling up to a standing position. He slouched off the couch, pulling his jeans up to his waist in a single, fluid motion, then shuffled past Deena.

Sly. Sly Stone. She should’ve known. Sly’s special super-power, his preternatural ability to whiff out the odor of a virgin’s ass within a hundred-mile radius. Of course he’d found his way into a teenage girl’s pants. Raping young girls was just one of his many, special spider qualities.

As he lounged past her, Deena shot him a hateful look. “Does your probation officer know where you really live, Sly?”

“Huh,” he snarled, “I live with my mother.” He vanished through the doorway.

Violated by the presence of that evil, evil man, Deena’s hands trembled as she dropped the twins into their playpen and slumped into a chair. So upset, she didn’t even bother to wash the feces off her arms and legs. Plenty of time later. She bowed her head, closed her eyes, and inhaled slowly. What filth, what rotten, rotten filth. Never mind the exploding diaper, she felt horribly violated, unclean. How could that stupid girl let that disgusting, vile man into her home?

A delicate cough. Deena’s eyes fluttered open and she registered surprise at the sight of Bree, still there, hovering in the doorway. The girl flashed her a faint, apologetic smile.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Deena breathed, “if you think I’m going to pay you for almost killing my children today.”

Bree blinked her baby blues. “I don’t know how they got out of the house. The door was locked.”

“Before, or after you let that rapist into my house?”

“Honest, Deena. Honest.” Bree shook her head with wonder.

“My children,” Deena said, rising to her feet and crossing the room toward the girl, “were running around in the street. In their diapers. They nearly got killed.

“I could’ve sworn I locked the screen door. Maybe the latch needs to be tightened.”

“So you’re blaming me for my children getting out of the house?” She poked her finger into Bree’s sternum and the girl flinched. “They almost got turned into hamburger helper.”

“I’m sorry!” The girl whined. “But my momma needs her pain medication and she won’t get it if I don’t get paid.”

Deena threw her right hand back as if to strike the girl across the face.

To her credit, Bree did not flinch. “Go ahead,” the girl spat out in an icy voice. “It ain’t like I ain’t never been hit before.”

Deena hesitated. What good would it serve, after all? What good did slapping and hitting do for her in her last marriage? Nothing. Nothing at all. Violence begets violence. She dropped her hand. “Go home. And don’t ever come back.”

Bree was aghast. “You ain’t gonna pay me?”

“No, I ain’t gonna pay you. And I never want to see you in my house again.”

Bree flung her purse across her shoulder. “Don’t worry, you bitch! I wouldn’t come back here, even if you paid me double!” She pushed open the screen door and slammed it behind her, hurling epithets as she clattered down the aluminum stairs.

Deena shut the screen door behind Bree and locked it, then locked the vinyl door; an unnecessary precaution, she knew, the screen door would stay closed, but still. She felt a deep and abiding need to make herself as safe as possible inside her own god-damned home. Because she did not feel safe at all right now, and she’d always counted on being able to feel safe in her own god-damned home. She rested her forehead against the decorative glass window that came as a free upgrade with the model they bought off the lot, and closed her eyes.

“What a miserable, rotten, rotten, fucking day.”

First her best friend’s funeral, then nearly bearing witness to the death of her own children.

Her life couldn’t possibly get any worse.

The phone rang.

She opened her eyes.

Oh, but it could, it certainly could. She started laughing, a light giggling that quickly turned into uncontrollable rolls of laughter; she laughed so hard it hurt her stomach, she was laughing so hard. She looked at the phone through her tears of laughter. “Now what?”

No doubt, Children’s Protective Services. Calling to make inquiries concerning a certain anonymous call, an incident involving naked children running around in the street in sub-zero temperature weather.

No doubt, Mrs. Russell, the mean old bitch who lived at the intersection of Tulip Trace and Rose Petal Lane—the neighborhood snoop and resident watchdog—witnessed the incident with the truck and reported it. No doubt, Children’s Services would be paying Deena a call within the hour. No doubt, she’d be asked to sign a safety plan, or risk immediate removal of her children.

No doubt.

Absolutely no doubt.

“I hate this place,” Deena muttered as she went to answer the phone.

No doubt.

KH:       I love your character descriptions! I get the impression, from reading your excerpt, that Deena and the other residents are in for a lot more drama. Now, for one of my favourite questions: what 3 words would best describe Trailer Park Wives?

DG:      Vulgar. Funny. Tender.

KH:       Do you have any upcoming events that you would like to share with readers?

DG:      I’m attending the Valentine’s Day Writers’ Event at the West Chester Barnes and Noble   on Saturday, February 14th, 2015, from 1:00 to 3:00 p.m.

http://store-locator.barnesandnoble.com/event/4826252

KH:       Where can readers best reach you?

DG:        _https://twitter.com/BaroneLiterary

 

https://www.facebook.com/denise.barone.50

                My location at Author Central:  http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B006XYJUDA

One other piece of good news. Lindsey Corey, a talented actress, has read Trailer Park Wives (Part 1, the Single-Wide edition) for me and hopefully, ACX.com will be releasing the audio-book soon.

KH:         Congratulations! I love hearing how creative authors are with promoting and delivering their work to readers. I wish you the best sales, and with your clear display of productivity, I hope we’ll be seeing more from Trailer Park Wives. Thanks for being here today, Denise!

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