Friday, March 9, 2012


I am happy to have fellow Evernight author Siobhan Muir In The Authors Spotlight today.  Along with getting to know more about her, we will have a little taste of her new book titled Her Devoted Vampire.

Bio: Siobhan Muir 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. When not writing, she's dreaming about the heroes and heroines who make up her world. An avid reader of science fiction/fantasy, she has been writing stories to entertain her friends and family for years. She completed her first fan fiction novel at the age of 13. No, it will never see the light of day.
Siobhan believes in happily ever after, redemption, and communication, all of which you will find in her paranormal romance stories.
Siobhan is published through Evernight Publishing and has an upcoming release from Siren Publishing.

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.

“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.
    “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?”
    “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.
   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.”

Buy links:

*FANS SELF*  I love your cover! Tell us a little bit more about the characters in your book.  What was your inspiration for writing this book?

It's a great cover, isn't it? I made sure to put it on my desktop background. :D Bridget Shanahan, the heroine, is a young woman who figures all the magic has gone out of the world and even romance novels can't spark her zest for life. She doesn't believe in vampires or werewolves or any of the nifty cool creatures featured in paranormal romance. Fredrick MacGregor keeps getting visions of Bridget, but doesn't know who she is or why she's important to him. His vampirism came with the gift of premonition, but the messages aren't always clear. He knows he's supposed to protect her from something, but not what that 'something' is. This causes all kinds of problems. lol

The inspiration for this story came from my husband, actually. He told me the reason he didn't read romance because it was all too unrealistic for him. He couldn't suspend his disbelief enough to get into the story. So I said, "Let me try to write one you like." ;) He now admits I definitely proved him wrong and he's one of my biggest cheerleaders in my writing.

As a writer, what genre/genres call to you?

I actually started writing in science fiction/fantasy because I loved the idea of worlds other than ours. When I realized there was a genre combining the fantasy with romance (paranormal romance) I was hooked. I'll still publish the sci-fi/fantasy, but paranormal stole my heart. :)

Is there any subject you will not tackle?

I won't write non-fiction, children's books, and hard-core erotica. I want fantasy, sex, and romance with my sex. I love the interaction between the characters trending toward love, even if they choose to express it through BDSM or other erotic arts. I want love in my tales, so I'll stick with erotic romance. :)

How would you describe your writing style?

Long stretches of storytelling, punctuated with sharp bursts of action and adventure.

Who are some of your favorite authors?

Oh, dear. I like so many. Cara Michaels for her sharp, concise sci-fi; Kate Pearce for her historical erotic romances; Monica McCarty for her sexy highlanders; Gaelen Foley for her historical romantic suspense (who wouldn't like a romantic spy novel back in the day?), Morgan Kearns for her hilarious paranormal romance series; Stephen Brust for his Vlad Taltos series, and Terry Brooks for his Magic Kingdom For Sale (sold) series.

If you had to pick only one book that you love, what would it be?

*Gulp* Uhm...I guess it would be The Deed of Paksenarrion by Elizabeth Moon. It's actually 3 books in one, but it describes the evolution of a sheepherder's daughter into a woman warrior, who becomes a warrior saint much like Joan of Arc. I love the book and periodically re-read it every few years.

What is your favorite place to write?

Ironically, at my desk, near the window overlooking our backyard/garden. In the spring, everything blooms and the world goes from brown to glorious spring green in a matter of days. The garden helps me drop in to "the zone".

I’m always asked about advice, so I’m going to ask you. What advice can you give to aspiring writers?
First, don't use the word "aspiring". That means you haven't done it yet and you're thinking about doing it, but not really putting energy to it. Second, if you want to be a successful writer, don't think about writing or talk about writing, WRITE! You can't get published if you have nothing TO publish. :)

Are you working on anything new, and if so what can your fans expect to see in the near future?

I am working on a few things: the Goblin King, some Navy SEALs, a couple of dragon shifters. But you'll see a new release from me by Siren Publishing out in May. The tentative title is Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack and it's a werewolf tale that takes place a little rural Nevada town. It's a fun tale of love, politics, and intrigue. Bwahahahahaha. :D

Thanks so much for stopping by my blog and for letting me pick your brain *SMILES* I do wish you much success with your book sales and with your continuing writing career.  Come back to visit anytime.

Thank you for having me, London. :)

You can also find out more about Siobhan at:


Things Are Changing

Hi, everyone. Thank you for taking the time to stop by and reading the last post on this blog. Don’t worry, though, I’m not disappearing...