Maggie Blackbird

Romancing Canada's Indigenous People

Today, I have author VR Tennent in the interview chair.  We’re discussing her latest series release Moral Dilemmas, a steamy contemporary romance. Don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway.

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1. What inspired you to write this book?

VR Tennent: In all honesty I’ve no idea where this story came from. It must have been circling around my head for years until I was ready to listen.

2. What can we expect from you in the future?

VR Tennent:  I have a full schedule for next year. Books 3 & 4 of the Moral Dilemmas series will be published by Extasy Books. I have a romantic suspense novel being released in January which is the first book of a new series. And…I’m working on self-publishing work including my Under The Sun Series and a novella in the Wild Bloom series with my fellow authors.

3. Can you tell us a little bit about the characters in the books?

VR Tennent:  Loving Dr Jones:  Ben, the male lead, is based on my childhood crush of Mark Feehily from the Irish boyband Westlife. He has the brightest blue eyes and so does my morally grey hero. Ben is a good man who makes a lot of bad decisions. Ultimately trying to do the right thing but failing miserably causing pain to those he loves around him.

Bex, in my head, is Lady Gaga to look at. A broken soul who seems to get overlooked through no fault of her own. She ultimately comes through and sorts herself out. Not before struggling with losing the love of her life and alcoholism.

4. Where did you come up with the names in the story?

VR Tennent:  They just kind of pop into my head

5. What did you enjoy most about writing this book?

VR Tennent:  Getting lost it. One book turned into a 4 book series. I’ve just finished drafting book 3. Moving onto book 4 will be bittersweet.

6. Did you learn anything during the writing of your recent book?

VR Tennent:  Dangling modifiers. My poor editor. I’m partial to leaving them hanging around.

7. If your book was made into a film, who would you like to play the lead?

VR Tennent:  Jamie Dornan. No prizes for guessing why. Though I’d be happy with Zac Efron. Lol

8. Is there anything specific you want to tell your readers?

VR Tennent:  As I have no professional writing experience, I very much write books I want to read. They’ve turned out to be very emotional and angsty. A raw real-life look at romance. They certainly aren’t sunshine and rainbow-style romances. Therefore, please check the triggers before reading.

9. What is your favourite part of this book and why?

VR Tennent:  The ending. It’s raw and real. Completely bittersweet.

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Title: Loving Dr Jones
Series: Moral Dilemmas, Book 1
Author: VR Tennent
Genre:
Steamy Contemporary Romance

What happens when the woman you marry isn’t the woman you want? Your heart fights with your head and a lot of people you care about get hurt.

Blurb:  Being the other woman was never my goal. But loving him made it impossible not to be. A love triangle between lifelong friends certainly complicates the issue.

From the moment I realised we couldn’t be together, I hit the self-destruct button. Life gets complicated and tragedy appears out of nowhere. Loyalty is tested. And love is denied.

Our passion is real. Our feelings strong. Our story heart-breaking. He was never mine to begin with, but every moment in his arms was precious. No one is ever promised a happy ending, but for me loving him was worth the risk.

Will he ever choose me?

Trigger Warning: Contains adult themes including infidelity, terminal illness and drug use.

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Purchase at:

Amazon | eXtasyBooks | Bookbub

My head is going to explode.

It’s official.

I am going to die from an explosion of the brain. Lying in bed, I curse the concoction of alcohol that flowed down my throat last night. Right now, stars—no, meteorites—are flying around my skull, crashing into and destroying any brain cells they connect with. Keeping my eyes screwed shut, terrified of the light, the sun beats through the window onto my face. Obviously, I was too drunk to even close the blinds.

Mustering enough courage to open one eye, I snap it shut. Perhaps the other one will be less agonising. No, it feels like someone is stabbing at my eye sockets with a toothpick. Eventually, both eyes open. The ceiling is swirling out of control. My stomach retches.

Another Sunday morning lost to the demon drink. Another weekend ruined.

I moved in two years ago. Nothing has changed. Creating my own home isn’t important. Nothing here reflects my personality apart from being unloved. Seventies styling from when the previous owner modernised it all those years ago decorates the walls. The retro flooring running throughout is old and worn. I tell myself this makes the apartment look lived-in but, in reality, it just looks dilapidated. This place can make you feel drunk even when you’re sober.

A familiar dread creeps through the alcohol fog. What happened last night? What did I say? More importantly, what did I do? Reaching across to retrieve my phone, I baulk waiting for the evidence of last night’s embarrassing antics. It wouldn’t be a Sunday morning without a social media tag for a humiliating moment.

Typically, my morning-after newsfeed is littered with photos and comments, evidence of my drunken shenanigans. This would be perfectly normal, even acceptable, for a student or someone in the process of “finding themselves.” But for a thirty-three-year-old Director of English at the prestigious Hilltop Manor Academy, not so much.

Things have become so bad that I’m using an alias on my social media accounts, unfriending and blocking anyone with a link to the school. I considered removing my internet presence, but then monitoring any negativity would be impossible. It would not be the first time I have tracked someone down, appeared at their door, and begged them to remove embarrassing footage.

I lie back on my pillow and hit the familiar blue app. Nothing. Not one photo or notification. My mind tries to recall the previous evening.

We arrived at our local tavern, The Smoking Goat―our usual Saturday night haunt. The first few drinks went down too easy. I could murder for a vodka and coke right now. But after we moved on to shots, it all went fuzzy. Nope, nothing. I shake my head to try to clear the fog. What happened? How did I get home? Why the fuck is there nothing on my socials?

I always get a group picture.

I always post it.

I click onto my best friend and long-suffering sister’s page. Amy is my rock. No matter how embarrassing I become, no matter how loud, how unbearable, she scoops me up and takes me home. Her page is empty; she was definitely there last night. I vaguely recall her shrugging her shoulders at me. No doubt I asked the same question I’ve asked her ten times before.

As Amy’s page is giving me no clues, I jump over to Kelsey’s. Saturday night is always spent with the same people. We drink, dance, fall and, ultimately, vomit together. Squinting at the screen, her page looks different. I can only see limited information and her profile picture: an old photo of her and her late mother sitting out the back door drinking tea. I smile at the sweet memory. Scanning the page, I try to make sense of it. A new button has appeared that wasn’t there before. Add friend? She must have unfriended me as a prank. I smart at the cheek of her. Bitch! Add friend, my arse. She can add me.

Half-cocked, I flick through the photos on my phone, in search of answers. I find nothing useful. There are a few from early on last night, the usual posed group photos. Nothing out of the ordinary.

At the top of my page, the message box is blinking with one notification. I perk up. I love getting messages; it massages my ego. On the other hand, if someone doesn’t respond to a message promptly, I panic. In ten seconds, I can convince myself they hate me, I’ve offended them, and I will die alone. The scenario plays out in front of me, and I recoil. Beating myself up is my favourite hobby.

The message pops up on the screen. It’s Terry. We’ve been friends for years; he would’ve been there last night. My face falls on reading the first line.

Bex, where are you?

Confused, I read on.

You disappeared with him. Please come back. Don’t do this to us. To our friends. You are being completely selfish.

My heart starts to race, and blood rushes through my ears. Screwing my eyes shut, I try to remember what the hell happened last night. Nope, nothing.

What I can’t remember, my mind makes up. Never truly knowing what is real. I remember being in the bar. We were all there. Kelsey, Amy, Ben, Terry, and myself. Singing karaoke, I think. The boys were downing pints, and the girls, apart from Kelsey, were on the wine.

Kelsey and Ben don’t get out much, having two little ones and another on the way. When they go out, Ben goes big. The shots arrived…then nothing. I race through my memories: drinks, crisps, laughing, falling over. Pulling back my sheet reveals a purple bruise on my thigh. I fell again.

Fuck, what if I was drugged?

Every Sunday morning, I play the same game. What did I do last night? Then I try to convince myself my sinful behaviour was someone else’s fault. The answer normally lies in my newsfeed.

My brain starts to go over the evidence. Waking up to concerned messages and no social media posts means I have done something bad.

Really bad.

My head continues to pound. I need paracetamol. Lots of paracetamol. Bracing myself, I swing my legs out of bed and sit on the edge. The room spins. I swear the teddy my parents gave me for my eighteenth birthday is waving at me, his beady little eyes judging. That bloody bear is always taunting me.

Perhaps sitting up was not the best idea.

I’m debating whether standing up would be a near-death experience when a noise draws my attention to the other side of the bed. The sound is deep and throaty. Whilst praying I’m imagining it, the groan sounds again and my eyes widen.

Who is in my bed? Rubbing my eyes to clear away remnants of sleep, I hope he might disappear, a figment of my imagination.

He doesn’t.

A beautiful man is lying there—dead to the world—in my bed.

His back is to me, and his dark hair is messed up over the pillow. He wears it long. Not long enough to tie it back, but in a cool, relaxed look. Recognition washes over me. Not again. I put my head in my hands. Will I never learn?

My eyes move down the lean, muscular back. My breathing rises, and my heart tightens. I had promised myself I would not go back there. The last time was the final fling. My body shakes with panic. It happened again.

I have no self-control.

The sheet is pooled across his trim waist. Memories of him on top of me flash before my eyes, my greedy hands running down that taut, toned body, pulling him down onto the mattress with me. With guilt-filled eyes, I see his tattoo, a band around his upper arm. It’s a Celtic design that twists and turns—it’s a hundred percent recognisable. The name it incorporates, I know well. She’s a person I used to consider a close friend. A name loved by everyone, a name seen to never hurt a soul. Wholesome, honest, and trusting. A person who should be cherished, not cheated on.

He starts to fidget and reposition himself, attempting to get comfortable on the mattress. He flips over powerfully to face me, the strong body I am so familiar with on full display.

He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen; no one has ever come close.

Toned stomach muscles continue down from a broad chest that is smattered with dark hair. His happy trail leads to a place I have worshipped and yearned for.

Bright-blue eyes open sleepily, flying open when they see me. Shock changes to anger then fury as he realises where he is, who he is lying next to.

“Fuck, Bex, what happened? How did I get here? Did we fuck? Not again!”

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Title: Surviving Heartbreak
Series: Moral Dilemmas, Book 2
Author: VR Tennent
Genre:
Steamy Contemporary Romance

Blurb:  Finding my wife in bed with an old friend was the most heart-wrenching day of my life.

My world was turned upside down in a single moment, and all my plans turned to dust.

I wanted to run straight back to the army, but then I met Katie.

She was everything I shouldn’t want, almost twenty years older than me with more baggage than a jumbo jet.

But I fell for her hard and she was all I ever wanted.

The problem with falling in love with an older woman is they have a conscience. They know what society expects from them.

They try to follow their head instead of their heart.

Life without her is colourless.

I will move heaven and earth to ensure our relationship has the chance it deserves.

Trigger Warning: contains adult themes including descriptions of violence, physical and verbal abuse.

Add to Goodreads

Purchase at:

Amazon | eXtasyBooks | Bookbub

She was working behind the bar at the Cooray Inn. Petite and delicate, standing on a box behind the old wooden counter serving the punters. A wide smile from pale pink lips on creamy white skin greeted me as I approached her. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a relaxed ponytail, and she wore no makeup. A far cry from the American girls I was used to.

“What can I get you?” She smiled at me, her blue eyes bright with mischief.

Giving her my best sexy smile, I said, “Your number, preferably. Then a pint of whatever you recommend.”

She rolled her eyes at me, unimpressed. “Oh my word. I bet you don’t get given many numbers with that terrible chat.”

My jaw dropped open at her rebuke and she chuckled at my response.

“Where you from anyway? Here for the skiing? Need to get on the slopes soon, don’t think the snow will last,” she informed me.

When I pulled myself to my full height, she had to raise her eyes to meet mine. “No ma’am, born here, but moved to Texas with my maw when I was three. Back to serve Queen and country, based at Kinloss north of here. Just a pitstop on route to base.”

She nods and passes me my pint and her number. “Well, you enjoy that, soldier.”

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VR Tennent emigrated from Scotland to Spain in 2020. She lives in the Spanish campo with her husband, young daughter, and ever-growing animal family.

In January 2022, she decided to put pen to paper and write a book after joining the writer’s group of her favourite author. Five months later she was offered a publishing contract on that very book.

She writes contemporary fiction filled with love, heartbreak, and spice.

Follow VR:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | BookBub | Pinterest | Tik-Tok | Amazon

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One thought on “VR Tennent – Moral Dilemmas

  1. Diana Hardt says:

    It sounds like a really interesting book. Thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

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