Cindy: First of all, I’d like to thank Toni for having me here today. Don’t forget to check out her guest post on my blog: http://cindyspencerpape.blogspot.com.
Cindy: I live in southern Michigan with my husband of 25 years, 2 almost-grown sons, 2 oversized lapdogs, and a rescue iguana. My educational background is in wildlife biology and animal behaviour, but now I’m lucky enough to write full-time.
Toni: What genre do you write?
Cindy: I write several subgenres within romance, some sensual, some erotic. My subjects have included contemporary, paranormal, and historical romance. I like it all!
Toni: Do you write to music or prefer silence?
Cindy: Again, I like variety. A lot of what I listen to when I write is Celtic rock—it keeps my fingers flying.
Toni: Favorite band? Movie? Drink? Vacation?
Cindy: Tough call, but how about Great Big Sea, The Princess Bride, Diet Coke with Lime, and anywhere I can get away from home—best if there’s a beach involved. (A woman after my own heart! I love Great Big Sea :)
Toni: What's unique about your stories?
Cindy: I like to think I give everything I write my own unique spin. I’ve got a bit of an odd sense of humor, and that tends to surface even where I don’t intend it to. I really believe in happily-ever-after, and I think that shows in my work.
Toni: Tell me a little about your Carina Press release...
Cindy: I’d be happy to…
Motor City Fae
Book I of Urban Arcana
By Cindy Spencer Pape
Coming June 2010 from Carina Press
Detroit artist Meagan Kelly has had a strong sixth sense all her life, but that doesn’t mean the gorgeous stranger’s crazy story—that she’s a half-elf, half human heiress—is true. But Meagan can’t deny the evidence of her own eyes—he’s Fae. A tall, blond, handsome, pointy-eared elf—and a man she just can’t get enough of.
Ric Thornhill’s assignment just got a lot more complicated. The more time he spends with Meagan, the harder it is to see her as a political tool to prevent an all-out war between humans and Fae.
Now Meagan’s in a race to master her newly released powers in time to prevent the conflict, convince a jealous Queen not to strip Ric of his powers, and find out if she can build a life that straddles two worlds.
Excerpt : (PG)
Ric smiled out at the crowd, acknowledging their raucous welcome, though he was getting far less of a kick out of it than usual. He was distracted tonight by his mission and by the owed Greg better than that, but it was sure putting a dent in his mood.
Settling back onto a tall stool in front of the mike, he lifted his favorite acoustic guitar off the stand beside him and launched into a folk ballad. It was a favorite with audiences and the Novak brothers and their band-mates knew it well, having spent plenty of late nights jamming with Ric in L.A. and San Francisco.
“The minstrel boy to the war has gone,
In the ranks of death, you will find him.
His father’s sword he has girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him.”
As he moved into the second verse, he allowed his gaze to wander about the audience, grinning conspiratorially at the men and flirtatiously at the women. Eye contact was one of the differences between an ordinary musician and a bard. That and the magic, of course. Drawing from within himself, he let a trickle of power flow through his voice to the audience, easing tension, soothing minor hurts. It was Ric’s way of thanking them for listening to him sing.
He ignored a couple of openly inviting gazes from the younger crowd, both male and female. While Ric might normally have taken one of the women up on her invitation, tonight he had no time for dalliance. As soon as his set was over, it was back to work for Alaric of the Thorny Hills, queen’s bard and knight of the Seelie Court.
The song ended and at a word from Greg on the drum kit, Ric switched to his Fender Strat. The band launched into a jazzier, more upbeat tune. Ric resumed his perusal of the faces in the room. It was a good crowd tonight; the place was packed, with lots of finger-tapping and humming along. The scents of hops and humanity mingled in the warm humid air and Ric smiled at those too.
In the back corner booth was a tall young man with chocolate skin, beaded dreadlocks and a trim goatee. His liquid dark eyes gazed longingly, not at Ric, but at George. Ric made a mental note to point him out to George at the break. There was a woman beside him, but her face was obscured by the heavy-set man in front of her. When the man moved to the side, Ric made a point of establishing eye contact with this last listener.
His fingers stopped on the strings. Literally stopped moving. He had to consciously think about closing his mouth. He managed not to drool, but he couldn’t manage to stop staring.
The whirlwind woman from the art co-op, the copper-haired cutie and if the gods were kind, the artist named Meagan Kelly. She was sitting in the back of Greg’s club, a glass sliding from her limp fingertips and a look of shock on her face that probably mirrored the one on his own.
* * * * *
Cindy: Me again!
If you enjoyed the excerpt, by all means watch for more. I’ll be visiting blogs all month! Also, I’m running a contest. All you have to do is pop over to my website, go to the “contact Cindy” page, and tell me which blog you saw me on and answer the question of the day. At the end of June, I’ll be giving away a $20.00 gift card to your choice of Borders, B&N, or Amazon. You can enter once for each blog stop.
Today’s question: What instrument does Ric play?
Now here’s where you can find me on the web.