Hi all! Grab a cup of tea – or whatever it is you like to drink – and join in the discussion. Today we have Danica Avet visiting and giving us a look into her writing.
About our guest, Danica. She was born and raised in the wilds of South Louisiana (that would be somewhere around Houma) where mosquitoes are big enough to carry off small children and there are only two seasons: hot and hotter. With a BA in History, she figured there were enough fry cooks in the world and decided to try her hand at writing. For eight years she played at writing, but in 2008, she decided to get serious and began down the rocky road to publication.
Unmarried with no children, Danica is the lucky pet of a compulsively needy dog and two cats. The pitter-patter of little feet has been known to make her break out into a cold sweat.
Writing is how she gives the voices in her head a way out. They speak to her constantly wanting their stories told and she does her best to accommodate them. She writes paranormal romance and may eventually branch out to contemporaries. When she isn’t writing, working, or contemplating the complexities of the universe, she spends time gathering inspiration from her insane family, reads far more than any sane person would want to, and watches hot burly men chase an oblong ball all over a field.
She's here today to tell us about Immortal Love. Welcome Danica!
I’d like to thank C.R. for having me today!
You know what I think is the best part about being a writer? I can shop without spending money. Oh yes, I spend hours and hours at Saks Fifth Avenue (online), ogling shoes and purses and dresses that I’ll never wear because I’m a T-shirt and jeans kind of girl. I can go to Rome without hopping on a plane and I do it all without getting out of my pajamas.
Roxana Love, the heroine of Immortal Love, is something of a diva. She wears designer clothes (and retro designer dresses because she’s been a clothes horse for centuries), killer heels, and carries purses I’d never even think to buy. In other words, she’s my exact opposite. Like I said before, I’m a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl. My idea of dressing up is to wear a pair of slacks and a comfortable blouse. Roxana is about Dior gowns and two thousand dollar purses.
I blame my mom and sister for Roxana. They’re both what I affectionately refer to as “shoe and purse whores”. Case in point, I’ve seen my sister buy a purse at one store, go to another store and buy another even though she doesn’t need one. Me? I only recently bought a new wallet after having mine for nearly twenty years. Big difference, huh?
But it’s the differences between me and Roxana that made her so much fun to write. She’s sassy, fashionable, and she seriously kicks butt.
How about you? Are you into purses, shoes, and clothes? One lucky commenter will win a copy of Immortal Love (Olympus, Inc.) and a $10 Amazon gift card! Contest ends May 17th and the winner will be announced on my blog on Friday, May 18th.
Enforcer Roxana Love works for Olympus, Inc., the corporate face of the Greek pantheon, and knows better than to trust anyone in administration. Assigned to find and protect the newest member of Olympus, Inc., she figures it’ll be a grab and go job, until she discovers her assignment is the same man she slept with the night before. Keeping things professional will be near impossible when she can’t decide if she wants to kill or kiss him.
One night with Roxana isn’t enough for Mason Landry, despite how crazy she seems. However, he isn’t given much choice when he’s thrown through his window, attacked by mythical beings, and told he’s part-immortal. Roxana’s explanation is too fantastical to believe, but if it keeps him by her side, he’ll go along for the ride. Meeting gods and dodging monsters from lore is nothing compared to the fight he’ll have winning Roxana’s heart.
She woke up in a puddle of drool. Roxana made a face. Her mouth tasted like a cat had taken a shit in it in the middle of the night. Ugh. Morning breath. She needed a toothbrush and a gallon of mouthwash. Now.
She rolled away from her drool, throwing her arm out. It landed on something solid and warm. She froze. What. The. Hell. She tried to remember what happened the night before. Yeah, it didn’t take long for the memories to come roaring back. Sex. Lots of sex. With a human! A human who had managed to keep up with her, twist her inside out, and made her come so many times, she felt like they set a world record.
A groan hovered. No, no regrets. She’d needed last night to work her frustrations at Zeus out of her system. And it had so worked. She felt more relaxed than she had in years.
She cracked open one eye and peered around the room. She was in his apartment. Thank gods it wasn’t hers. He was simply too good at making her come to injure by kicking him out of her bed.
Dried spit on the side of her face reminded her she’d been drooling. Drooling! Ugh. She pushed herself up and looked over at Mason. He was flat on his stomach, half of his body hanging off the bed. She looked at herself. She was a total bed hog, and she knew it. She’d probably pushed him that way at some point in the night because she was in the center of the bed with plenty of room. She smirked.
Served him right after that last round of mind-blowing sex.
Early morning light slanted over the bed, caressing his skin like a lover. She could stare at his body forever, but that would not work. She had a job to do. Heaving a mental sigh, she eased out of the bed. He’d been a good lay for the night, good enough to leave her a little wobbly when she tried to stand.
Okay. That never happened to her. She could usually go several rounds and still have enough energy and strength to kick ass afterwards. Mason had definitely been worth the time she lost the night before. Her thighs were stained with her juices and his cum. She sighed. Glad she’d conjured a pack of towelettes when she left the bar last night, she grabbed a few to clean herself. With the way they’d gone at it, it was a damn good thing she couldn’t get pregnant from a mortal. Her body needed immortal seed to conceive. She shook her head with a soft laugh.
She found her four thousand dollar dress crumpled on the floor. Eh, looked like she had another dress to donate to the cleaning service. She waved her hand towards the dress, sending it to her apartment on Mount Olympus. She conjured a pair of distressed Hudson jeans and an Aiko tunic because she’d be combing the streets for Zeus’s friggin’ grandson. She’d leave the panties for Mason. They were her favorite, yeah, but were so torn up she couldn’t wear them again.
Roxana smiled and dressed as quickly as she could. No use hanging around for Mason to get all weepy when he saw the best piece of ass he’d ever had walking out the door. She wasn’t cocky. She’d seen the enthralled look on his face. She stopped to buff her nails. Yeah, she was good. And in a damn good mood after yesterday’s self-pity party.
It took a little longer to find her shoes. She leaned on the bed to put them on, her gaze eating up the sight of a naked, exhausted Mason sprawled on the bed. He was so sexy. She sighed. His skin was so gorgeous, like dark satin poured over steely muscles. Yeah, she could get used to that sight. The scars littering his skin only made him much more attractive to her. She so loved a male who—
She blinked. Shook her head. A little laugh escaped her. She was imagining things, of course. Roxana stood up straight and swung her purse over her shoulder. She headed to the door, pausing in the doorway.
And looked back at the big man on the bed. His head was turned towards her, his face relaxed in sleep. She tilted her head to the left, then to the right. Her heartbeat spiked. No. No, no, no!
Her purse fell to the floor with a thud, but she ignored it as she stalked back to the bed. Upon closer inspection, the scars looked familiar. Too familiar for her peace of mind. The scar tissue on her back and chest itched. No, this could not be happening.
Her legs gave out, and she sprawled on the floor next to the bed. She stared up at the ceiling as her brain swirled with the implications of what she’d done.
She’d had sweaty, dirty monkey sex with Heracles’s son. She was so screwed, she’d be lucky if she could hold her head up at the next inter-company mixer. Her hands curled into fists.
She was going to kill Mason and make it look like an accident. She was an Enforcer; she was good at things like that. He’d never even realize it. The bastard. He’d probably tell his man-whore dad all about her begging him for his cock. Impotent tears burned her eyes as she imagined the hard-earned respect she’d gained over the last two thousand years slipping away from her.
Buy Immortal Love (Olympus, Inc.) at Evernight Publishing
Please feel free to add/follow Danica at the links below:
Thank you for joining us here today, Danica! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your work.