Welcome special guest: author Siobhan Muir ( #FF @SiobhanMuir @evernightpub )

Today we have author Siobhan Muir visiting. Siobhan lives in Las Vegas, Nevada, with her husband, two daughters, and a vegetarian cat she swears is a shapeshifter, though he's never shifted when she can see him. Always interested in human interaction, Siobhan believes in happily ever after, redemption, and communication, as found in her paranormal romance stories. She also writes under the name Meg Palevich.

So, Siobhan, what inspired you to become a writer?
I don’t know what inspired me, the stories just kept pouring out of me, either orally or written. I couldn’t stop making up worlds and characters. I even wrote during grad school, though they had to wait till I was finished for me to give them my full attention.

When did you attempt your first story? What length was it? What's become of it?
I wrote my first story when I was 11 and my teacher “published” it. I think I still have the bound copy somewhere. First real novel I wrote at 13.

How many stories did you complete before you sold your first?
I completed 5 romance stories before I sold – many more fantasy novels (handwritten – eek!) before that. :)

What genre(s) do you write in? What drew you to write in it/them? What’s your favorite genre of all to write in?
I write in science fiction/fantasy as well as romance. I have always loved the odd and interesting creatures, magic, and divine powers affecting things. Swords, talking horses, and dragons were pretty cool, too. Writing paranormal romance was the next step from just writing about dragons. Now I could have a dragon as a hero or heroine (guess what’s coming?) ;) Paranormal romance is my favorite, but fantasy will always have a special place in my heart.

What are the best and worst pieces of writing advice you ever received?
Best: Get rid of “that”, “was”, and “which”, and your writing will improve tenfold. Worst: “You’ll never make any money doing that.” Ah, go blow it out your ear! ;)

How do you celebrate/deal with acceptance/rejection letters?
My husband takes me out to dinner for sushi when I get a deal or an acceptance. With rejection letters, I give myself a couple of days to ignore it, then I try to read through the constructive editing comments and see which ones can benefit me as a writer.

In regard to the book you’re promoting, which actor and actress do you envision playing the roles of your hero and heroine? If there’s a villain or other characters who are pertinent to the story, who would play those parts?
I’d choose Rachel McAdams for Bridget. She has the right balance of intelligence and sarcasm, especially when she first encounters Fredrick. Fredrick is a little harder to cast. I guess I’d choose Mark Strong. He has the perfect combination of darkness and elegance to be Fredrick. There’s one other character that is truly pertinent. Her name is Szilvia and she’d be played by a blond Kristin Scott Thomas. Kristin has the right flavor of regal, icy disdain that personifies Szilvia.

The book you’re promoting, is it a stand-alone story or part of a series? If it’s part of a series, please list the order the books need to be read in for maximum reading enjoyment.
It’s not part of a series, but you’ll see some of the characters come up in other stories of mine, like Fredrick’s chief of Security, Cynthia. She has her own story, and she has four brothers, who each get their own stories (well, the twins get one together) ;) Bridget’s best friend Kate Blackamber gets her own story with Cynthia’s youngest brother Jayson. All the stories are connected, but don’t have to be read in a particular order.

*** Now for some fun info… ***
What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?
Coffee, hands down.

Would you/have you own(ed) a snake or some other exotic pet?
I did, actually. Five Alligator lizards and one Ornate Tree lizard, all wild-caught from Arizona.

What’s your favorite day of the week?
Friday. I get a lot of work done and I still have the whole weekend ahead of me.

*** About Siobhan’s book… ***

Bridget doesn't believe in vampires or werewolves, but that doesn't stop one from kidnapping her.
BRIDGET SHANAHAN’S life seems bleak and boring until she gets mugged and abducted from her favorite coffee shop by the sexiest man she’s ever met. Unfortunately, he’s a lunatic who believes he’s some kind of vampire savior surrounded by a security force of werewolves and he’s determined to keep her.
FREDRICK MACGREGOR has been having visions of this woman in danger for the last six months, a woman he must protect because she’s the Avatar of the Goddess. However, when he brings her home, she doesn’t believe he's a vampire or that she is the Avatar, and she definitely doesn't want to stay. But the sense of danger persists and he'll do anything to keep her safe, even if it means risking the loss of the only woman who makes his endless life bearable again.
    I originally wrote Her Devoted Vampire for my husband. He told me once that romance was bunk, so I said, “Well, let me try to write one you like.” It wasn’t supposed to be published. I just wrote it to see if I could do it. Then I showed it to one of my critique partners and she told me she’d hang me by my ankles if I didn’t try to publish it. :D Not only that, but my husband is now very interested in all my romance stories, and occasionally helps me when I get stuck.

***Find Siobhan here***
WEBSITE
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You can also find me on Google Plus as Siobhan Muir

Thank you for joining us here today, Siobhan! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your work.

Contest for Her Devoted Vampire (All formats available) The entrants need to answer this question: “If you were kidnapped by a sexy guy, what would you do to get away?” Commenter with the best answer and valid email or Twitter handle will win a copy of Her Devoted Vampire. The contest will end 6 pm PST March 27th. Winner will be notified by email or DM.

~ EXCERPT ~ from Her Devoted Vampire
    “Do you remember me, Bridget? I met you at Snickerdoodles.”
    Oh, she remembered, all right. She remembered the scent of his skin and the warmth of his body beside her. At least, she thought she did. He’d wrapped his trench coat around her, hadn’t he?
    She closed her eyes and shook her head to clear the cobwebs of mixed memories.
    “I returned your book and tried to hail a cab for you. Do you remember that?”
    No. Wait. Yes, she remembered the terrible kidnapping scene in the book and how she’d left it on the table in the coffee shop. Her memories played out in a reel until it ended with red eyes and searing pain.
    Bridget’s eyes flew open, and she stared at her companion with dawning unease. His expression filled with concern and compassion, his eyes a deep chocolate brown. No sign of red anywhere. They weren’t even bloodshot.
    “You’re Fredrick MacGregor.”
    “That’s right.” A smile flitted over his lips.
    “And you smell like spiced apples and vanilla.”
    His black eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, one tendril falling across an eye. It looked soft and smooth, and she wanted to push it behind his ear for him. His smug look banished any tender feelings that might have developed.
    “You were stabbed in the side, and I brought you to my home here in Gloucester to take care of you.”
    Stabbed? She’d been stabbed? Gasping, she wrenched the emerald bedclothes away from her body and scanned the skin of her belly. The bruised pain she felt directed her eyes to her left side, but there was nothing there, not even discoloration. If she’d been stabbed, where was the scar, the scab?
    Is he just teasing me? What kind of a jerk does that? Then the rest of his words sank in.
    “Gloucester?”
    “Yes. It was the safest place I could think to take you.”
    Bridget narrowed her eyes as she raised her gaze to meet his again, her hands still holding the bedclothes up.
    Safe for whom, you chocolate-eyed kidnapper?
    “Normally you take injured people, like those with stab wounds, to the hospital. Or at least call the paramedics.” What was she doing in Gloucester in a richly decorated bedroom? Was it his bedroom?
    There are worse places to be, a traitorous voice remarked.
    “There was no time, and I knew I could care for you as well or better than any hospital,” Fredrick replied to her unasked questions.
    Riiiiggghhhtt, that’s what all the sociopaths say to their victims.
    “I have to go.” She tried to sit up again. She’d make it home come hell or high water. Goosebumps zinged along her leg when it appeared out of the covers.
    “Whoa!” She jerked her legs back under the emerald sheets and stared incredulously at the man sitting next to her bed. “Where are my clothes?” And that sexy dress?
    “I haven’t had time to get any from your apartment.” His eyes never dropped from hers. “I’ll send someone presently.”
    She raised her eyebrows. “Presently? Who uses words like ‘presently’? And how do you know where I live?” She groaned, frowning. “You looked in my wallet from my coat.”
    “That seemed to be the most logical place to look for your name and home address.”
    “That’s just great. A perfect ending to a perfect day.” She sighed, slumping back in the bed. “Stabbed, kidnapped, and naked in a stranger’s bed. It just doesn’t get much worse.”
    “Except, perhaps, being kidnapped by a vampire with a house full of werewolves,” he suggested, a half-smile curling his kissable lips.
    She snorted. “Thank God there’s no such thing as vampires or werewolves.”
    He stilled as if the life within him bled away, leaving nothing but a quiet, waxen shell, and his face lost the humor in it. Unease crept through her as she stared hard at him, clutching the covers so tightly her knuckles turned white. The scent of spiced apples shifted to a dirt smell, like moist earth or the desert after the rain, and her stomach cramped with visceral fear.
    “Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you for whatever you did. I think I remember being stabbed. It hurt like hell. How bad was the damage, and how long have I been here?”
    Life seeped back into him as he cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowed in consideration. “You have only been here a few hours. We didn’t do anything but look at your wound. You healed all by yourself.”
    “Yeah, I know I’m healing. I just want to know what you did to close the wound and how many stitches I needed.”
    “I told you. We didn’t do anything. Your body healed on its own.”
    “What are you talking about? What do you mean, ‘healed’?” She lifted the bed sheets away from her body again to get a better look at her left side. The skin appeared a little pink at her waist, but nothing suggesting a stab wound. She looked back up at him, anger coiling. “What did you do to me?”
    Fredrick shook his head. “Nothing, Ms. Shanahan. I would like to know how you managed to heal so quickly, but it appears you didn’t know you could do that.”
    “Of course I didn’t know I could do that!” Bridget dropped the bed sheet to her waist. “No one can do that except in science fiction novels.”
    His gaze locked onto her chest, and a predatory expression flooded his features. An odd combination of exhilaration and lust zinged through her, which only pissed her off more. She growled and jerked the sheets back up.
    “Nice.”
    He coughed and had the grace to look chagrined. “Forgive me, but I’ve found it very difficult to turn down an opportunity to view such beauty.”

Purchase Her Devoted Vampire at these locations:
Evernight Publishing
All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Bookstrand