Mixing it up is a term that can mean fighting. That pretty much covers what I had to do with myself to mix genres. Mixing genres was something I was initially dead set against. See, paranormal scared me. I found there were too few rules. To many ways for me to trip myself up or sink my own damn battleship, if you will. I am not a world builder or a myth builder. It’s not how I’m wired. I do not have the patience for that sort of thing. I leave it for the pros. If you go and dig through the dried bones and carcass of my myspace page I bet you will find a blog that said writing paranormal terrified me.
Until it didn’t.
I started with ghosts (those eventually turned into the Seekers series). I was basically a ghost aficionado. I loved all things spiritual: angels, ghosts, Native American roots (I gots ‘em) and recognizing that the world is all in synch. I am a firm believer in the whole “Take what serves you and blow the rest away with a breath of kindness” dealio.
So I made myself a liar with the ghosts. Ghosts were fine. No big deal. But never ever, ya know, vampires or werewolves or that kind of stuff. Never.
I think I made myself a liar on that one with Base Nature. I do believe that was my first werewolf full length. I’d done one or two short stories for Ruthie’s Club then (Old Wives’ Tale and Wickedly Built) but those were just shorts. *snort* You can’t actually count them. Nor could you count my tale for RC called Marks. Hint. Vampire.
Because they were shorts—a blink of the eye, really—and did not count. Don’t even say I broke my own rule until…well, *sigh* Base Nature.
Seems I was less and less scared of scary things.
But okay. So I wrote a werewolf novel..so what? It’s not like I was working with zombies or anything. I don’t even like zombies. Zombies are animated dead things that run around biting people. So not sexy. Um…but I bet a good zombie exterminator or four would be hot. And they all are intertwined with sex and lust and love and partnership and a mission to save people from hungry undead things…Poppy and Garrity and Cahill and pretty Noah and…
*gasp*
Well, hell, I just wrote a zombie book, didn’t I? Okay, three of them! Do not judge me.
And somewhere in there, Ellis Bach popped into my head with all is big bad werwolfness. And Tyler Gent crept in, cold and sexy and so…well, kind of sweet in a searing wit kind of way. And then there was Ruby. Who couldn’t make up her mind and loved them both and wanted them both and got that shot. At having them both and…
So back to the no paranormal rule I had. Yeah, you can trash that. It’s kind of a moot point now. But I will absolutely never…*ahem*…ever do fairies.
Comment for a chance to win a pdf (or electronic format of your choice) of Big Bad and if you comment along every stop of the Big Bad Blog Bash, you can win Ruby’s socks (pictured on my blog. The tour schedule’s over there too.) Yay! J
XOXO
Sommer
Blurb for Big Bad:
Lust according to Ruby:
You read those books where they explain it all away. They make it fine with rationalization. But what if I just want to? What if that's my whole reason? My life is not a romance novel. I don’t need justification. I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants.
I want Ellis. And I want Tyler
And I won’t apologize...
What’s worse than wanting both your best friend who’s a vampire and the just-back-in-town alpha werewolf you find yourself fixated on? Finding out that the werewolf in question wants you, too. But he isn’t too keen on the sharing part. Oh, and by the way, you’re his dead mate.
Okay, okay, dead is harsh—reincarnated.
What’s worse than that? Realizing that you believe the whole crazy tale of reincarnation. Because it seems to be true.
And yet you still want them both—together. Vampire and werewolf and you in the middle. Stuck between two predators who want you and only you. To complicate it all, you find out that you can have it. With your new/old mate’s blessing. But just one time before he claims you as his.
Are you brave enough to take it? That one shot?
Well...Are you?
Excerpt from BIG BAD
I opened my eyes and screamed. Then I hid under the blankets—quickly.
“Well that’s not a very nice hello,” Ellis Bach said.
“Oh my god. What are you doing here? What is he doing here?” I screamed to Tyler who I knew—thanks to his supersonic ears—would hear me no matter where he was.
Ellis laughed and the dark easy sound of it curled through me like smoke. I felt warm and horny and wet from that one single sound. Clearly I was insane.
“I smelled you,” he said.
I peeked out from under the blue and green plaid duvet. “Pardon?”
“I smelled you. I smelled your scent.”
I peeked so that only my eyes were visible to him. “Gee…that is…um, nice? Actually, I have to admit, it’s offensive. Because I immediately think you’re insinuating that I stink.” I blinked. “Which I might because I fell asleep before a shower and…” I petered off, unable to finish my own thought.
His dark blue eyes stared me down. His hair, a sandy color that made me think of long days in the summer sun, hung in his eyes and I wanted to touch it. It looked soft and I wanted to know if it was. “You do smell like sex,” he admitted.
I pulled the blanket back over my head. “Great.”
“But that’s probably because you and Tyler had sex, right?” He laughed again and it was all I had in me not to throw back the covers and attack him.
“Ugh. Yes, we did. But I wasn’t expecting visitors the moment I opened my eyes.”
“Hey, you wanted to meet him.” It was Tyler
“Not like this,” I growled and decided—fuck it—I pulled the covers down, covering my breasts and the rest of me but freeing my head and hair and shoulders. I did like oxygen, after all. I leveled my gaze at him—realizing on some level I was highly turned on by them standing there in the doorway, almost shoulder to shoulder, staring at me like they were hungry. “Why? Whywhywhy did you do this to me!”
“Not that I’d l normally defend my friend Tyler here, but I came up and knocked. I literally did smell you. And something about you smelled familiar and…” He cocked an eyebrow and I felt another irrational physical urge to touch him.
“And?”
“And delicious,” he said and licked his lips. They were full and pink and his tongue was just a tad darker pink.
I said something like “Ugh” and he smiled. Tyler Tyler
I saw his nostrils flutter just a bit as he caught the scent. Ellis grinned and cleared his throat. “She seems to be annoyed. And aroused if I’m not mistaken.”
Flex-flex-flex went Tyler
“And I’m not mistaken,” Ellis said.
“I’d like to take a shower,” I said.
“By all means.” He stepped back so I could walk from the bed to the door unimpeded. But he didn’t leave.
“Ellis, get the fuck out of here.” Tyler
“You, too.”
They both stared at me then.
“What?” For the look on his face, Tyler
“Both of you please,” I said softly. “I just feel…fragile,” I finished weakly.
“Fine,” he growled and turned to the door, yanking Ellis after him.
If Ellis had even had it in his head to stand his ground, there would have been no budging him without bloodshed. It was evident in his muscular frame and the way he carried himself. But he was playing along and he stumbled out into the hall along with my host.
I wrapped Tyler
For me.
BUY LINK for BIG BAD:
Blurb for Lunatic Fringe:
Poppy's birthday should be a big, fun, sexy deal. And it is, until the zombie exterminators find out that the creepers in their neck of the woods happen to be switching the game up a bit. They have a new nifty trick that keeps them from being readily recognizable. Something poor Poppy is unlucky enough to find out on her morning run. She goes from fantasizing about her birthday foursome with the boys, to running home to spread the bad news of mutation.
Her big day is suddenly full of machetes, a lady from the CDC and news of a new vaccine that might—or might not—work. Lucky for Poppy the boys won't let the new turn of events ruin her birthday, they still take her where she needs to go. Because all four of them know, every day could be your last. Sadly, Garrity, Cahill and Noah can't control what happens next. Things change, possibly forever, for their little group of exterminators. And over the next few days Poppy realizes a few things with perfect clarity: she loves Garrity, the thought of losing one of the boys terrifies her, and she's completely at a loss when it comes to one of her own being threatened. It seems to be the one area in which she can't pull off the bad ass persona.
What will she do, she wonders, if their perfect group of four suddenly becomes a group of three? How will she survive?Her big day is suddenly full of machetes, a lady from the CDC and news of a new vaccine that might—or might not—work. Lucky for Poppy the boys won't let the new turn of events ruin her birthday, they still take her where she needs to go. Because all four of them know, every day could be your last. Sadly, Garrity, Cahill and Noah can't control what happens next. Things change, possibly forever, for their little group of exterminators. And over the next few days Poppy realizes a few things with perfect clarity: she loves Garrity, the thought of losing one of the boys terrifies her, and she's completely at a loss when it comes to one of her own being threatened. It seems to be the one area in which she can't pull off the bad ass persona.
Excerpt from LUNTIC FRINGE:
All the hair on the back of my neck stood up despite the lovely afterglow of Garrity sex.
I thrust my legs into some yoga pants and pulled on one of Garrity’s shirts that I’d stolen because it was so soft and even after washing it smelled like him. “Get dressed,” I said.
“Hey, the boys can—”
“I know they can,” I said. “But we need to get down there.”
“What’s up?”
“I have a bad feeling is all.”
Garrity opened the hamper and yanked out a pair of jeans and a Henley instead of going to our room to get clean clothes.
“Nice,” I snorted.
“Hey, I improvised.”
“So you did.” I grabbed my two brand new shiny sawed-offs and handed him one. “Here, because I am super duper nice.”
“Moi?” he said with mock glee.
“Just because when that doorbell rang my stomach dropped. Take it and shut up about it.”
He kissed the side of my head. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You know it.”
We went downstairs together, each of us armed, guns loaded and cocked.
Cahill was by the front door. One of those old-fashioned deals to match our old-fashioned farmhouse. The wooden door had a large picture window of leaded glass. Curtains covered it to keep us private, but still when we looked out, whoever was out there could see in.
“I don’t want to open it until Poppy has a gander at her,” Cahill said. “After what happened this morning.”
“Good call,” Garrity said, right on my heels as we hit the bottom of the steps.
Noah walked in holding a nifty little sword he’d picked up online. It was shiny and pretty and had a stylized hilt and yet…functional as all get out.
“Ready?” Cahill asked.
I took the other side of the door and he unlocked it, swinging it wide. We faced the woman on our porch through the screen door. Which really, if you think about it, is not much of a barrier if someone wants to eat you.
I pushed the barrel of the gun to her through the screen and though she flinched, her big brown eyes found mine and she said, “Pleases hurry up and let me in.”
I eyed Cahill. “She’s speaking. The one on my run didn’t speak.”
“Put your hand up to the screen,” Garrity told her.
She did it and he pushed his hand to hers through the fine mesh. Then he leaned in and smelled her. “Feels fine, smells fine, no change.”
“What’s your name?” I demanded, my hand on the simple hook-and-eye lock but not moving. I wasn’t convinced yet.
“Sandra Lynn Baker,” she said. I could hear the fine tremor in her voice and recognized a woman trying to keep herself under control when I saw one.
“Why are you here?”
“I’m with the CDC, and we are going around talking to the exterminators in the area about some new developments in—”
“Pull her in,” I said to Cahill, and I popped the lock. I yanked the door open, and he took her arm and tugged Ms. Baker in.
“Oh!” she said and stumbled over the threshold.
I locked the screen and then the door and nodded to Garrity. He caught my look and said, “How about some coffee, Ms. Baker?”
“Oh, um, sure.” She smiled at me, but I must have unnerved her. So her eyes roamed, settling on Noah—pretty, pretty Noah—and she smiled at him. When he smiled back, she seemed to relax some.
I have an effect on women and Noah has the opposite. I weird them out, and he soothes them. It’s a good system.
“Let’s go. In the kitchen, please,” I said. “I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say.”
She followed Noah, and I followed her, and Cahill brought up the rear. He put his hand to my low back as we walked, ushering along with a light touch. I might have been torqued up from anticipating this little talk, but that touch made my body rush with heat and blood. I had a brief wishful mental image of the four of us together in bed and felt myself blush.
“Try to focus, Poppy,” he said, chuckling softly. “We’ll have time for all those dirty thoughts later.”
How did he do that? How? “What—” I started to pretend I had no idea what he was talking about, but he said, “Body language” in a way that made it impossible to argue.
Instead, I just blew out a sigh and went into the kitchen.
BUY LINK for LUNATIC FRINGE:
