Welcome to Under the Covers Megan! 

Thank you for having me!

Who is Megan Mulry? Please tell us five interesting things about yourself that readers wouldn’t know!

1. I never thought I would write books.

2. I never thought I would be a mother.

3. I never thought I would get married.

4. I never thought I would think about sex and falling in love with men and women…all the time.

5. I am very bad at predicting the future of my own behavior.

Can you tell us about BOUND TO BE A GROOM? Where did the inspiration come from for this story?

The story germinated many years ago when I wrote some contemporary erotic romances that took place in a castle in Spain. Then I decided it would be cool to imagine a few generations back in the same part of Spain, so I wrote BOUND TO BE A BRIDE (Sourcebooks, 2013). In that novella, there are three male friends who are setting off for the New World to have their adventures but one of them gets waylaid (by love, of course). BOUND TO BE A GROOM (RIptide, 2014) is the second book in that world and Sebastian is swept off his feet by the seemingly shy Anna (who turns out to be anything but shy in the bedroom). I was inspired to revisit this fictional world when I was in Cartagena, Colombia last year, surrounded by Spanish colonial history and sultry, starlit nights. Also, on some deeper psychological level (QUICK! Run for the hills!) I felt like there were unresolved issues about LGBT relationships in some of my previous books and I wanted to give those relationships the depth and texture I thought they deserved.

What was the hardest scene to write in this book?

The four-way love scene was by far the most complicated scene I’ve ever written, just in terms of sheer logistics. I had to keep stopping and doing stick-figure drawings about whose mouth was where when or to make sure no one had three arms or. I can’t say it was actually hard to write. I would just say it was detailed!

Why did you decide to write a story involving two men and two women?

Like most of my books, I imagined the characters and then the rest just sort of happened. Anna and Sebastian were peripheral characters in the first story so I knew I wanted them to connect in this one, but I wasn’t sure how. Once their personalities and motivations started to set in my mind, their actions were like a freight train—and then it was my job to try to derail them, I guess. Anna is willful, controlling, passionate, driven…so of course she needed to meet someone who would crack through all of that. Pia is patient, loving—all the usual 1 Corinthians things—so she needed to rise to the challenge of moving beyond the small, quiet life she thought she was destined to live in the convent. Sebastian is a confident, aristocratic playboy on the outside, but he is completely submissive and gentle on the inside; I loved revealing the paradox of how he presents himself in the ballroom versus how he presents himself in the bedroom. And Farleigh is a fabulously arrogant British aristocrat who appears to have everything at his disposal, but is really missing the connection and love that finally knocks him senseless. I guess I felt like I had to weave all four people into the story because each one serves to challenge and complete the other three in some way. And it’s also plain old fun to imagine all those eager, nubile bodies in bed together!

What’s your favorite way to wind down after a long day of writing?

A glass of wine and a romance novel.

Who is your favorite author and what is it about their work that resonates with you? 

May I pick a favorite for each romance sub-genre? Thanks!

1) For erotica and erotic romance, Anne Calhoun (resonates for emotional intensity and character transformation);

2) For contemporary, Jennifer Probst (resonates for quick humor and brisk honesty);

3) For old school romance, Johanna Lindsey (resonates for driving passion and heroine’s sexuality).

My all-time top author influences are Judith McNaught and Jayne Ann Krentz, both of whom resonate with me because of the strength of their heroines and the can’t-put-it-down quality of their books.

What was the last movie you watched?

The Lego Movie. “You are the special” is my new mantra.

What is the last book you read?

It was a terrible mess of a book that I can’t name because I was judging it for the Rita competition as part of my membership in RWA. Luckily, I just started my first Edith Layton, The Fire-Flower, last night, so I hope to do a brain squeegee of that other atrocity.

Morning person or Night Owl? 

Night Owl. I didn’t even know that was a question!

Thanks for sharing with readers today!

Thank you so much for having me to Under the Covers!


Sometimes our wildest dreams come true.

In the tumultuous summer of 1808, Spain and England are close to war and four young lovers are close to ecstasy.

To carve out an independent life with the woman she loves, ANNA knows she must leave her quiet Spanish convent to become a courtesan. To gain experience, she sets her sights on . . .

SEBASTIAN, whose powerful, aristocratic confidence suits Anna’s mercenary goals. But his arrogance masks a craving for submission that Anna instinctively satisfies. Sebastian soon begs for her hand in marriage, even if it means sharing her with . . .

PIA, who trusts Anna completely—with her body and her future—until she learns of Anna’s hasty marriage. Pia questions their commitment to each other as they leave for London to meet . . .

FARLEIGH, the seemingly feckless duke who thinks he’s over Sebastian, the potent Spanish soldier he bedded two years ago.

What begins as a series of erotic escapades soon evolves into a deep, unbreakable bond. Two men and two women who yearn to explore are about to make their wildest dreams come true.


BOUND TO BE A GROOM will release April 14, 2014!
Be sure to add it to your Good Reads Shelves
and Pre-Order it on Riptide Publishing’s website!



When the small boat docked in London, Pia nearly kissed the slimy wooden planks of the dock. “Never again!” she cried.

Anna and Sebastian had nursed her throughout her violent seasickness over the course of the entire journey.

“How will we ever get to Cartagena, my love?” Anna asked, trying to make light of her ill humor. They had spent many hours onboard the ship talking about where they would go after England, what parts of the world they would explore.

“I shall never survive it. You two will have to go without me.”

“Unthinkable,” Sebastian soothed, as he helped guide her along the crowded wharf. “Either we all go, or we don’t go at all.”

After he had helped Pia to more solid ground, he looked up to see an ornate carriage emblazoned with what could only be the seal of the Duke of Mandeville. A liveried servant jumped down from his seat atop the gleaming carriage and pulled open the door. A tall blond gentleman stepped out of the carriage.

Pia watched Sebastian’s face light up as the man approached, and then turned to see Anna’s face clouding. Before she had a chance to remark upon Anna’s reaction, Pia was swept up in the swell of Sebastian’s enthusiastic cry.

“Leigh!” Sebastian called. “You shouldn’t have come to the docks to meet us. We are dreadfully tired and probably look a fright.”

As the blond man neared, Pia could see more clearly that he was stunningly handsome. Her seasickness must be wearing off, because she thought he might be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He radiated a classical perfection like she had happened upon in the few art books in the convent library. A perfectly straight Roman nose, sparkling light blue eyes fringed with dark lashes, and a lush mouth that looked quite sinful, almost feminine. But the wide turn of his jaw was utterly masculine and harsh, a perfect counterpoint to those sultry lips.

He and Sebastian were the same height and build—strong shoulders tapering to muscled hips—so when the duke pulled Sebastian into a rough hug, Pia had a moment of unexpected excitement. The idea of two men . . .  like that . . .  would be . . .

“Quit gawking,” Anna growled.

“Oh.” Pia looked modestly back to the ground, then decided she was not obliged to look away. Anna might control her when they were intimate, but Pia had no intention of submitting to her every whim. She pulled her hand from Anna’s forearm and crossed her arms defiantly in front of her chest.

Sebastian was laughing and talking in English with his old friend. While he’d mentioned that he’d become acquainted with the duke while he had been visiting Spain with a British dignitary two years ago, by the look of their obvious pleasure at reuniting, Pia was beginning to suspect Sebastian and Farleigh had been more than friends. Or perhaps that was her lust-addled brain playing tricks on her. Still, something about the way their eyes sparked and widened when they spoke to one another put Pia in a heightened sense of awareness.

“How rude of me!” the duke said in perfect Spanish. He bowed and took Anna’s hand. “You must be Lady Anna di Montizon.” He kissed the back of her glove.

Anna stiffened and withdrew her hand. Pia smiled inwardly at the prospect that Anna might be experiencing her first pangs of marital jealousy. The duke knit his brows momentarily and then turned his attention to Pia.

His blue eyes sparkled. “And you are Patrizia Carvajal?”

“I am, Your Grace.” Pia gave him a small curtsey and dipped her chin.

“And do you also dislike when a duke kisses your hand?”

Anna’s nostrils flared, and she walked the few steps to stand by Sebastian.

“It depends . . .” Pia said with the slightest hint of a smile.

“On what does it depend, my lady?”

“On the duke, of course.” She held out her hand as she said it, offering it to him for a kiss. She caught a glimpse of Anna’s stormy expression, and it stirred something rebellious and sensual inside her.

A few moments later, after the luggage had been secured, the four of them stepped into the duke’s closed carriage. The sheer size of the city was overwhelming enough, but the onslaught of sounds, smells, and streaming packed humanity had both women staring out of the carriage windows with wide, unblinking eyes. From the crowded docks of the Thames Embankment, through the teeming streets near the river, into the loud thoroughfare of Oxford Street, they gaped. As they passed near Bloomsbury, the duke mentioned something called Montagu House, where he promised they would all go visit a treasure of recently acquired artifacts, including the Rosetta Stone and the Townley collection.

Pia squeezed Anna’s hand for a moment—at the idea of so many grand discoveries—and her friend turned to smile in shared wonder.

“It is truly magnificent, is it not?” Anna asked.

“It is.” Pia smiled and was glad their wordless squabble at the dock was forgotten. Despite Anna’s intensity and subtlety when she was physically intimate, Pia had always known that her friend was rather a dolt in other ways. Anna was a wonderful listener, but she had to be focused on whomever it was she was listening to. She did not often see the subtle interactions of others unless they were rather glaringly put before her. In Anna’s complete absorption with the city’s splendor, for example, she had completely missed the byplay between her husband and the duke.

Farleigh and Sebastian were sitting on the rear-facing seat in order to afford the ladies a better view. Ostensibly.

Pia was now sure the two men simply wanted to sit next to one another so their strong legs and shoulders could jostle together as the carriage made its way through the huge city. The prospect—real or imagined—of those two men being lovers had sent Pia’s already-full mind into a veritable roil.

Perhaps she had simply become a voluptuary after so many days spent in close confines with Anna and Sebastian, the three of them barely able to keep their hands off one another even in the communal areas of the packet ship. The only time Pia hadn’t felt utterly nauseated was when one or both of them had held her in their arms or touched her with more intimate affection. As a result, maybe everyone with whom she became acquainted would forevermore be reduced to some sort of physical possibility in Pia’s sex-addled brain.

While Anna continued to stare out the window in abject wonder, Pia tried to steal surreptitious looks at those strong male thighs tightly constrained within finest buckskin. It was blindingly erotic, all that muscle barely disguised beneath a layer of deerskin. As she watched through dipped eyelids, Farleigh’s hand rested casually on Sebastian’s thigh, then squeezed the hard muscle. Pia’s eyes flew up and both men smiled at her.


[about-author author=”Megan Mulry”]

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