Thank you for joining us again this week. In writing news, I’m hard at work on the next Fated Fantasies story, which means Elliot will finally get his mate, and I’m also toying with the perfect mate for Kevin from the Souls world. Both are proving to be a ton of fun! But until I have a new book for you, I’m sure you’re keen to get to know our new authors this week so let’s get this party started!
Author Bio
Hi! I’m Edie Montreux (I also write m/m mpreg romance as Edie Monte). I’m nonbinary (she/they), demisexual, and an ally for all aspects of the LGBTQIA+ rainbow. I love my husband, Queen, dogs, and video games. I Write LGBTQ-fiction full time, unless I’m walking my dogs or protecting imaginary worlds from fantasy creatures.
Edie’s Quirky Questions
Holly: If you could be an animal for a day what would it be and why?
EDIE: My little buddy (Rawley)! He’s the sweetest baby and he sleeps most of the day. (His big brother Luca is fun, but he’s also a drama boy and the one who sheds all the white fur – please excuse my couch cover!) – SEE PIC BELOW!
Holly: Are you oddly obsessed with anything? Tell me about it!
EDIE: I am completely obsessed with the rock band, Queen, and Freddie Mercury. I have 16 Queen t-shirts, a prayer candle to light on Freddie’s birthday (thanks to Highlander), the Crown Jewels CD collection, all the books, and so much more! My first website was dedicated to Queen and Highlander, and I used to run a Facebook page for Freddie Days from September 5-November 24. My first book is set in 1992 so the characters could go to the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert in London on April 20. (This is also my quirky collection!) – SEE PIC BELOW!
Holly: How many unread books are on your Kindle or bookshelf right now?
EDIE: Besides the 20 in KU? (I never seem to get below that number – it’s a revolving door of 20.) Goodreads says I have 307 “Want to Read,” which are the books I’ve purchased from Amazon but haven’t read yet. I also have 4 I’m “Currently Reading,” which is more like, “not going to finish.” I haven’t touched them in years, but I haven’t removed them yet.
Holly: Explain your book terribly in a few words. (For example two men meet and hate each other, until they don’t)
EDIE: (FWIW, The example is every enemies to lovers blurb I’ve ever written!)
For Medium to Well Matched: Two strangers living across the hall from each other + one spirit grandmother + one push up the stairs = hurt/comfort meet cute! Add a dash of Hollywood and spirit shenanigans, stir in some snark and spice, cook until steamy, and you’ve got your Happily Ever After!
Holly: Where did your inspiration come from for your MCs?
EDIE: When writing Kenny Nguyen’s story in Medium to Well, I spent a lot of time thinking about his family. What if Kenny wasn’t the only one impacted by Nana Nguyen’s decision to convert to Catholicism and never look back? She pushed away her spirit connection and demanded her children and grandchildren do the same. Kenny withdrew from his family and leaned into his spirit connection, becoming a talk show medium. What about his cousins? Wayne and Van were cut from the final draft of Kenny’s story, but I never stopped thinking about them. My next question was, if Wayne is so far in his own head and never wants to leave his apartment, what would draw him out into the world again? The answer is Foster, an up-and-coming sunshiny actor. He’s exactly what Wayne needs to live again, maybe to love!
Blurb
When a spirit plays matchmaker, even a recluse might fall in love.
At 40 years old, Wayne has declared himself single for life. He’s done trying to hide who he is from his family. Besides, what are the odds of finding someone if he never leaves his apartment?
Foster lives down the hall from Wayne and would love to ask him on a date. He’ll never break through Wayne’s grumpy façade without a script, though. He’s much better at reading words than finding them in his head.
Wayne’s spirit grandma has a solution, but it involves a little accident on the stairs and a lot of explaining. Wayne has to come to terms with the two things he’s always insisted he’s not: clairvoyant and gay.
Medium to Well Matched is the second in the Haunted Hollywood Ever Afters paranormal M/M romance series. It’s best to read them in order, but each book focuses on a new couple in the Haunted Hollywood universe. MtWM has a contrite spirit matchmaker, a grumpy speech therapist tired of lying to his family, a sunshine up-and-coming actor, Hollywood drama, the wedding you’ve all been waiting for since book 1, and a guaranteed happily ever after!
Excerpt/ Teaser
This infestation of Nana was new, though. It had begun almost three summers ago. According to Nana, Kenny had set her free from her own version of hell, so now she was free to torment her living relatives. She would say, “talk,” but she was a pest in Wayne’s opinion.
Wayne wondered how that conversation would go over at the wedding. “Congratulations, Kenny! Did you have to free Nana from hell? She’s a pain in the ass.” Maybe he would wait to mention it until the reception.
Yes. You dance with the cute boys. There will be cute boys.
“Nana, I never want to talk to you about cute boys ever again, okay?”
Nana was silent, for once.
He headed downstairs in his apartment building to drop the RSVP card in the collection box. That’s when he saw the beautiful man from room 2E again. Every time Wayne saw him, he became more convinced he was an actor. Today, he was speaking to himself under his breath as they crossed in the hallway. Then, his eyes focused and he beamed his thousand-watt smile at Wayne. Time seemed to slow as Wayne noticed everything about him, starting with the way his short hair lightened from dark roots to almost white at the tips. He looked like he’d spent a lot of time at the pool over the summer, without the green tint. Maybe salt water, or the ocean.
“Hi, Wayne!” His voice was liquid sunshine, confirming a smile could be communicated through speech, a common speech therapy saying Wayne used often.
“Hi!” Wayne didn’t know his name. How did this gorgeous man learn his name when they’d never exchanged more than greetings? The guy from 2E usually saw Wayne when he was opening his mailbox. All Wayne had to do was check the name on the box for 2E and he’d have it, and wouldn’t you know, one step and he was at the lockers. Except there was no name on 2E, and Wayne’s dream man had already disappeared around the corner to the elevators.
Wayne considered walking that way, possibly catching him before he got on the elevator, but then he heard the door to the stairway bang shut. Of course, the man as fit as any gym bunny Wayne had ever seen would take the stairs.
Maybe you should take him to dance at the wedding. He would be a good dancer.
“Not now, Nana,” he said under his breath.
About the Author
Vawn Cassidy is the MM Romance pen name of author Wendy Saunders. She lives in Hampshire in the UK with her husband and three children. She writes Contemporary & Supernatural Fantasy as Wendy Saunders and Romance & Romantic Suspense as WJ Saunders.
She’s a hopeless romantic and eternal optimist. When she’s not barricaded in her writing cave she’s often to be found lurking about on social media and she loves to chat about all things books and writing!
Vawn’s Quirky Questions
Holly: What’s your drink of choice?
Vawn Cassidy: I have to admit I hate wine and I hate coffee; I just never developed a taste for them, in fact there are days when I question if I’m even a grown-up at all. I’m like a perpetual teenager I live on Coke Zero although I do like a cocktail, I mean who doesn’t? My favourite is a WooWoo, which is probably why I wrote it into my novel Dead Serious for Tristan’s rather unfortunate brush with death.
Holly: What will I always find in your fridge?
Vawn Cassidy: Oh my god, Nando’s Perinaise, tubes of the stuff. I usually have to fight my youngest son for it but if it’s edible, I will either smother it or dip it in Perinaise.
Holly: What food(s) fuel your writing?
Vawn Cassidy: I wish there was a food that fueled my writing, but I tend to use it as an avoidance thing. I’m a champion snacker, whenever I’m supposed to be writing chapters and I’m procrastinating you’ll usually find me foraging in the kitchen like a trash panda.
Holly: If you could be any animal what would it be and why?
Vawn Cassidy: That is so easy. A Cat. I literally am the human equivalent of a cat. I am equal parts affectionate and prickly. I love to snack, nap and be petted (not necessarily in that order). I am also supper happy if I can snuggle somewhere warm and cozy.
Holly: Tell me about a unique or quirky habit of yours.
Vawn Cassidy: I never drink a full cup of tea. I will only ever drink half a cup and leave the rest, without fail every time. It drives my husband nuts. I also have a ridiculous love of Lego. It’s getting so bad we’re running out of space in the house. I’m just waiting for one of the kids to leave home so I can build a Lego city in their bedroom.
Holly: Were you a reader as a child? What was your favorite book/author?
Vawn Cassidy: I have always been an avid reader even as a child. My favourites were the Narnia books and Roald Dahl (loved George’s Marvelous Medicine) when I moved into my teenage years it was David & Leigh Eddings, The Belgariad & The Mallorean, that’s where my love of magic and long running series come from.
Holly: Where do you like to write?
Vawn Cassidy: In my bat cave, I say bat cave because it’s like super nerdy. My office is just full of books, pops, Monster High dolls (no, I’m really not kidding) and loads of stuff from the 80’s including my original Rainbow Brite and Dream Date Barbie, does anyone else remember her? Anyway, I pretty much barricade myself in the cave, especially when I’m on self-imposed and hectic deadlines, which for anyone who knows me (side-eyes my editor and PA) that’s pretty much all the time. Occasionally, the hubby and kids will open the door and throw food in, and when I get too feral, they stage an intervention.
Holly: What’s your favorite book that you’ve written and why?
Vawn Cassidy: I think it really is all my Dead Serious books because it gave me the chance to have so much fun and be really stupid with tons of supernatural stuff, I mean where else can you write about an accidental body swap with a dead drag queen?
Holly: Let’s talk to your characters for a minute – what’s it like to work for such a demanding writer?
Vawn Cassidy: They’d probably tell you I’m not so much demanding as perpetually sidetracked. I’m like a magpie, I literally get distracted by shiny objects.
Holly: How many books have you written, and which is your favorite?
Vawn Cassidy: In this series so far, there are two full length novels and five bonus shorts, and book three will be coming in the next couple of months. I love all of them, but I think at the moment Case #2 Mrs Abernathy is my favourite.
Dead Serious Bonus Boxset Vol. 1
Includes:
Dead Serious Case #1 Miz Dusty Le Frey
Made in Heaven (Brand New Bonus Special)
The Three Ghosts of Christmas (Bonus Special)
El Dia del Amor (Valentine Special)
Dead Serious Case #2 Mrs Delores Abernathy
Danny, Meet Death (Bonus Special)
The Blind Date (Brand New Bonus Special)
Dead Serious Case #1 Miz Dusty Le Frey
When sweet, awkward pathologist Tristan Everett is revived from a freak accident involving a cocktail and an ice cube, he’s slightly freaked out to find he can suddenly see the spirits of the dead. When murder victim and deceased drag queen Dusty Le Frey is wheeled into his mortuary with a toe tag, she’s not going quietly into the light. When Tristan crosses paths with detective Danny Hayes, he finds himself attempting to solve Dusty’s unfinished business while trying not to fall in love with the gorgeous detective.
Made in Heaven
Dusty’s time on earth is done, but she’s not ready to let go. Trying to settle into heaven is nothing like expected. She finds herself meeting her favourite deceased actor and partying with musical legends, but although it’s everything she could have ever dreamed of, something is still missing and she finds she has a very important choice to make.
The Three Ghosts of Christmas
It’s Danny and Tristan’s first Christmas together, but as Danny sleeps Christmas Eve brings several surprises for Tristan in the form of three ghosts, the first showing up when the bell tolls one and Tristan begins to understand his gift of seeing the spirits of the dead might not be a freak accident after all.
El Dia del Amor
Dusty’s been looking forward to Valentine’s day, her former drag club The Rainbow Room always has the best celebrations but as she moves through the crowd unseen and alone, she realises they’ve all moved on after her death. Feeling displaced and lonely, she’s surprised by her ghostly hook-up Bruce, a gorgeous rugby playing spirit of Mexican descent. When he takes her to the land of the dead to celebrate The Day of Love she starts to realise that being dead might not be so bad after all.
Dead Serious Case #2 Mrs Delores Abernathy
It’s been over six months since a freak accident left pathologist Tristan Everett able to see ghosts, but when the spirit of a sweet old lady suffering from Alzheimer’s follows him home he has no idea how to help her and worst still, he still hasn’t told his boyfriend he can see the dead.
Once again he once again finds himself tangled up in a murder investigation. Surrounded by a bunch of potentially murderous old ladies and aided by his sidekick, deceased drag queen and spirit guide in training, Dusty, Tristan must unravel the mystery of Mrs Delores Abernathy’s unfinished business and find the courage to share his deepest secret with the man he loves.
Danny, Meet Death
Danny has a rather surreal experience when he is shown just what life is like for Tristan being able to see the spirits of the dead.
The Double Date
When Tristan invites local Witch, Harrison to dinner to say thank you for helping him and Danny invites his friend and private investigator, Sam to dinner to celebrate the birthday he’s trying to ignore, they inadvertently end up on an accidental double date. When Harrison and Sam clash sparks and tempers fly, but there’s something going on with Harrison, Sam can’t shake the feeling he’s in trouble somehow and he’s determined to find out what it is he’s tangled up in.
Teaser
Dead Serious Case #1 Miz Dusty Le Frey
Dropping slowly to my knees on the cold, hard tile, I reach out, my hand hesitating for a moment. Swallowing hard, I move to lay my hand against the woman’s shoulder, and I gasp out loud when my hand passes right through and lands on the floor beneath her. I snatch my hand back, cradling it against my chest as my heart pounds.
This can’t be real, it has to be some sort of hallucination. Maybe my brain was starved of oxygen too long last night. Maybe I hit my head when I dropped to the ground, and I’m suffering from some sort of delayed concussion.
I shake my head again. They thoroughly checked me out at the hospital before discharging me, and I showed no signs or injuries that would suggest a concussion. So, what the fuck is going on?
Before I can ponder the question further, the unconscious and apparently insubstantial form on the floor shifts and groans.
I scuttle back in panic, falling flat on my arse and pressing myself up against the cupboard behind me as she blinks and sits up.
“Urgh, my head.” She raises a slim hand to her rather lopsided wig, her fingernails like talons and painted a murderous crimson. “What the hell did Ramone put in that cocktail. I’m having the weirdest hangover.”
“Uhhhhhh.” I open my mouth, but once again, my voice seems to have deserted me.
She turns her gaze on me, and when she continues to speak, her voice, despite her beauty and femininity, is a deep male baritone.
“Who are you?” she asks in confusion, glancing down at my scrubs and white lab coat.
“Tristan,” I manage to squeak.
“Tristan?” she repeats slowly. “Well, honey, I’m Dusty,” she introduces herself, looking around in confusion. “Where the hell am I?”
“Hackney,” I answer, apparently I’ve graduated from no voice to one-word answers.
“Hackney?” Dusty frowns. “What the fuck am I doing in Hackney? Must’ve been a hell of a night because I literally cannot remember a damn thing.” She squints down at her body. “Where’s my other shoe?” She glances around the floor. “Shit, Ari’s going to be so pissed when he finds out I went on the lash in one of my stage outfits.”
‘Uh,” I manage to utter, not entirely sure what to say.
“Where about’s in Hackney am I?” She pushes herself to her hands and knees, searching underneath the table for, presumably, her other shoe. “And where’s my bag? I need my phone. Can I call for an Uber? What time is it? DAMN IT, I’m supposed to be in a rehearsal with Ginger this afternoon. I’m teaching her the Shirley Bassey number.”
“Uh, Miss… Dusty… ma’am.” There, almost a full sentence, progress at last. “You’re in the Hackney Public Mortuary,” I tell her, not sure if I should really be engaging with my hallucination or seeking immediate medical intervention.
“The Mortuary?” She pauses and stares at me. “Is that a new club?”
“No,” I reply slowly. “It’s an actual mortuary.”
“I don’t understand.” She pushes herself to her feet. “What would I…” Her words trail off into a horrified and confused silence as her gaze falls on the open body bag on the table. The bag containing her body. “What the actual fuck?” She breathes heavily as she flaps her hands, clearly on the verge of hyperventilating. “OHHHH… I am tripping so damn hard. What the fuck did Ramone put in my drink… Oh my god, I’ve been roofied, and I’m stuck in the middle of a really lucid nightmare.”
“You and me both,” I mutter under my breath. “And I’m pretty sure you haven’t been roofied. My guess is a severe subdural haematoma caused by a massive blunt force trauma.”
“What?” she replies dryly, as she blinks at me.
“You got hit in the head with something heavy,” I supply helpfully, ironically trying to soften the blow so to speak.
“Sooooo… I’m in a coma?” she replies slowly. “And this is some weird arse dream?”
I glance down at the cold, dead corpse in the bag. “Uh, I’m pretty sure you’re not in a coma.”
“No.” She shakes her head in denial. “No, that would mean I… that I’m…”
“Dead,” I say, wincing at how blunt that sounded. Even if she is some weird figment of my repressed brain trauma, I kinda feel bad for her.
“Oh my god,” she whispers, as she reaches out toward the bag, obviously intending to see if the body in the bag is real or if it is all some kind of elaborate prank, but as her fingers connect with the bag, her hand passes straight through it.
I watch as she stumbles back, holding her hands up and staring at them with a mixture of panic and disbelief. They looked solid enough, and it’s only when she tries to touch something, or someone tries to touch her that it becomes clear there is no actual substance to her form. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was a ghost or a spirit or whatever, but that’s impossible. Everyone knows ghosts aren’t real.
As Dusty backs up to the counter, still staring at her hands, her gaze snags on the mirror mounted on the wall. Breathing heavily, she turns toward it, her eyes tracking over her mascara-stained face and smudged lipstick before settling on her blonde wig, or more specifically the unmissable blood stain, which begins at her crown and trickles down the back of her head, matting the human hair weaves into dark red clumps.
“No,” she whispers in horror. “This is just a bad dream. I can’t be dead.”
I jerk my head around as the door once again opens with a loud bang. I really do need to get the hinges tightened on that thing so it doesn’t swing open so wildly, constantly clattering against the wall. Still, it doesn’t stop the insufferable sigh from hovering on my lips. Seriously, it’s like bloody Piccadilly Circus in here today.
I open my mouth to tell whoever it is that I’m fine, I don’t need a lie down, I don’t need a break, I don’t need to go home, and I don’t need a doctor… well, actually the jury’s still out on that one considering my very lucid hallucination freaking out behind me. But it’s not one of my well-meaning but interfering co-workers coming to check in with me, instead I find myself staring at Mr Blue Eyes from the night before.
He’s wearing another suit that, god help me, clings to every inch of a six three body, which has clearly been hand carved by the gods while angels harmonised in the background. His suit jacket is unbuttoned, his white shirt stretched across a broad and obviously well-toned chest, his tie is loosened, and his top button undone.
Jesus holy moly Christ, the man is nothing short of temptation incarnate. All he needs is a trench coat and I’d have my very own spank bank version of Constantine. He lifts his hand, raking it through his dark blonde hair, and I swear it looks like he’s in slow motion. I almost reach up to check my chin in case I’m accidentally drooling.
He turns, his gaze sweeping the room, and as his piercing blue gaze lands on me, his mouth breaks into a smile, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly and revealing, not dimples exactly, but fascinating creases either side of his mouth that I find myself desperately wanting to trace with the pads of my fingers.
He crosses the room in smooth confident strides until he’s standing on the opposite side of the table to me, with Dusty’s body between us.
Great, I realise with a sinking feeling. I’ve now added my hot crush to my rapidly expanding list of hallucinations. There is no way he’s really the guy from last night. He didn’t even know my name let alone how to find me. At this rate, I’m going to have to check myself into a mental hospital.
“Tristan Everett?” He smiles as he holds out his hand.
Without thinking, I reach out and grasp his hand, ignoring the little zip of electricity and letting out a startled gasp. When I’d tried to touch Dusty, my hand had passed straight through as if she weren’t there, but Mr Blue Eyes’ hand is warm and his grip firm.
“You’re real,” I whisper as he studies me, slightly puzzled by my response. “Uh, I mean.” I clear my throat and offer him a polite, professional smile. He really doesn’t need to know how much I’d like to lean forward and press my mouth to those soft looking lips of his, especially considering I’d missed out last night as I was unconscious when he had his mouth on mine, while he was busy saving my life. “How did you find me?” I ask curiously, momentarily forgetting everything in the room but him.
“Serendipity,” he replies softly, his mouth curving as he watches me.
“I’m sorry?” I blink owlishly in confusion.
“Inspector Danny Hayes, Scotland Yard,” he introduces himself, as his gaze flickers momentarily down at Dusty’s body. “That’s my case you’re about to post mortem.”
“Ohhh,” I reply slowly as his words sink in. My mouth forms a small, silent ‘o’ as I stare at him, lost in his denim blue gaze, only marginally aware of the soft smile playing on my lips.
“Oh my God, are you two seriously eye fucking each other over my dead body?” a dry voice interrupts. “Er…rude…”
SPOTLIGHT FREEBIE THIS WEEK
Available now through Prolific Works.
You can download a copy of
You’ll Know In Your Heart Book #7 from the Gods Made Me Do It Series
– for free, no strings attached.
You’re welcome to sign up for her newsletter if you’d like to hear from her more often, but it’s not a requirement to download the book.
Here’s the blurb to get you excited!
(Can be read as standalone).
Baby, youngest son of Poseidon had started to avoid going anywhere near his family. Between love-struck mates, and tiny children, more and more he was starting to feel as if he just didn’t fit. Anywhere. Abandoned by one father at birth, and pretty much ignored by the other, Baby roamed the world, looking for some kind of acceptance, but all he could find was hook ups. And there were plenty of those. Being the son of Himeros, the god of desire as well, wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. But none of the people he saw for brief moments touched his heart, and most of them never wanted him to stay longer than an hour or two at most.
Owen was known by many names, but the one title he’d spent a long time avoiding was that of “Baby’s mate”. Having known who his mate was from Baby’s birth, Owen had stayed hidden away from life, content to watch his mate through his Oracle stone, until more than a thousand years had past. When the destructive behavior he believed Baby was falling into got worse, Owen knew it was time to step in. Baby needed a fixer, and the Fates had given Owen the job.
But Baby didn’t want to be fixed. In fact, he resented the very idea, which meant Owen needed to make a few attitude adjustments. As the two men bumbled along, struggling to find common ground with each other long enough to make a mating work, they weren’t getting any support from Poseidon, Claude or Himeros. When Baby gets another shock, he seriously starts to think hiding in an isolated cave somewhere was a good idea. The question is – will he take Owen with him?
Unlike my other stories, this book has little or no outside angst factors. Readers familiar with Baby’s story, as mentioned in earlier books in the series, will know this sweet man has more than enough conflict in his own head, without introducing more. Quite simply, this story is Baby and Owen’s journey towards true love and family. You don’t need to read the other books in this series to enjoy this one, but it will help with your appreciation of secondary characters.
This is an MM MPREG story with some graphic scenes intended for readers over the age of consent in the country you reside in. Please store your ebooks responsibly.
Okay, beautiful people, I think I’ve ticked all the boxes this week. Two amazing new authors, a freebie and an update from me.
I hope to see you all here again next week, and until then…
Find a Spark of Magic Every day
