May 14 2013
I have a special guest today–the uber talented Ms. Siobhan Muir. She’s just released a book entitled Not A Dragon’s Standard Virgin. Okay, how can anyone NOT want to read that? It’s definitely going in my TBR pile. But I’ll let Siobhan herself tell you more about how she pairs humor and romance—the perfect marriage in my book, like a Reece’s peanut butter cup!
When Lila offered me a place on her blog to shout about Not a Dragon’s Standard Virgin, I thought, “Yeah! I can totally do an interview or author spotlight.” But those options seemed like a poor representation of the efforts made to promote a book (translation: kinda boring). Do you really want to know about my writing methodology or my favorite food (cheesecake, by the way)? It seemed kind of “been there, done that” when so many authors are vying for your attention: “BUY MY BOOK, BUY MY BOOK.” I do want you to buy my book, but I’d rather make it fun.
One thing I truly appreciate about my friend Lila is her ability to show the humor in all her tales – and it’s not just purposely funny things, but rather the every-day events which go wrong or not quite as the characters expect. When I’m writing, I usually know where my characters are going and what is likely to happen in the story. I have a general outline I follow – mostly so I don’t forget some details I want to include. But sometimes, the characters do something I don’t expect and it turns into a scene that brings me great delight.
My newest release was like that. I thought I knew everything about Jonarrion Swiftwind. He had his stuff together. He knew how to fight like any warrior does, and he’d never forget anything. Right? Uh, maybe. Jon made a dramatic exit in his story, taking his lady and flying off into the sunset – well, actually it was raining and he flew south, but you get the idea. I was writing along, happy as a clam, when I wrote, “Then he gathered his sword—” and realized he HADN’T gathered his sword, his primary weapon as a warrior, before he flew off. Rewriting large chunks of story is never fun for an author so I started thinking of ways I could fix it that would make sense. The following excerpt of Not a Dragon’s Standard Virgin is the result.
Jonarrion laid Isabelle down on a bed of soft, dry, fragrant needles and retreated to shift into his human form. While the ruins of the old castle hidden by the young forest could take his natural size, his color would show between the trees to anyone who knew what to look for. When he stood upon two feet again, he returned to the overhang of stone from a ruined floor, grateful it kept the rain from soaking his lady. He paused at the edge of their rough camp, the memories of the evening flooding his mind as he took in her graceful shape.
Gathering up all their belongings from the little cave had been a comedy of errors. First Jonarrion had a handful of unconscious woman and refused to set her down for fear she’d get pneumonia from the cold and wet. He’d swung his great head back and forth in indecision before he decided she wouldn’t be there long enough to get sick and consoled himself with the reminder that she wore his plaid.
When he’d reached into the cave to collect their things, only his arm would fit. He spent several minutes growling and groping for the pile of items he could only see when he pulled his arm back. He completely destroyed the careful collection Isabelle had made, and spent several more minutes picking up each item individually.
He’d congratulated himself on getting everything and wrapping it all carefully around his woman. He’d been all set to leave when he remembered his sword, still lying on the pockmarked floor of the demon’s lair.
So much for a dramatic exit when he had to go back for his weapon.
He’d stood there at the cave mouth for several minutes, vacillating between taking Isabelle somewhere safe, or going back for his weapon while they remained close. Collecting the sword immediately won out, but he’d felt like a prize idiot. He’d found the blade where they’d left it, and the elf had disappeared.
Thank the Goddess!
Jonarrion was also tremendously grateful Isabelle had slept through all of it. Not much of a hero if he couldn’t remember to take his own sword with him when he dramatically left the field. He’d paused only long enough to engulf the entire lair in blinding dragonfyre, charring the demon’s body to nothing more than ash, and cleansing the stone of its hideous poison.
Jonarrion unconsciously shook his head, and a cold drop of water slid down his back. He jumped, shaking himself into the present where his lady needed a fire to stay warm. He’d prefer to warm her with his own fire, but despite his cock’s enthusiastic agreement, he forced his body to search for dry kindling for a campfire. Nothing was dry, and he grumbled about damned spring weather, but scraped a hole in the floor of the clearing and lined it with rocks.
Jon’s mishaps made me like him even more than I did before, and reminded me of all the times my actions backfired on me. I can still see him standing there, shaking his head, and rubbing his hand over his face in disgust.
Thanks so much for stopping by and reading. As it happens, I’m giving away one copy of Not a Dragon’s Standard Virgin to one commenter who answers this question: What’s the best (funniest?) thing you’ve done to ruin a dramatic exit? Please leave your email address or Twitter handle in your comment so we can contact you if you win.
Thank you, Lila, for hosting me today and I hope everyone has a great week.
Thanks for coming by, Siobhan! So, you KNOW you want a copy of this one. Be sure to comment for a chance to win but more importantly to entertain me!
How about a few more deets about Siobhan’s hot little ditty, including where to buy if you want it now and don’t want to wait for a chance at a giveaway:
BUY LINK for Not A Dragon’s Standard Virgin:
Sacrificial virgins are so sixteenth century, but unless Isabelle finds a man to take her innocence, she’ll likely be next.
For Isabelle Andersen, being a virgin in a dragon-plagued Scottish village is dangerous. Potentially the next dragon sacrifice, Isabelle’s only solution is to lose her innocence, and fast. All she needs is one handsome stranger she can coax into bed, but Lochmore Cott doesn’t get much in the way of visitors.
Jonarrion Swiftwind has sworn off virgins. The last time he took one to his bed, his family paid the price for his lust at the hands of her demon-possessed father. He’s made it his mission to destroy all demons. Nothing distracts him from killing this demon until lovely Isabelle offers him tea. And her virginity.
Just one night of passion makes Jon realize he doesn’t want to let the independent beauty go. But will Isabelle accept him when she discovers the only real dragon in her village… is him?
Siobhan Muir lives in Las Vegas, Nevada, with her husband, two daughters, and a vegetarian cat she swears is a shape-shifter, though he’s never shifted when she can see him. When not writing, she can be found looking down a microscope at fossil fox teeth, pursuing her other love, paleontology. An avid reader of science fiction/fantasy, her husband gave her a paranormal romance for Christmas one year, and she was hooked for good.
In previous lives, Siobhan has been an actor at the Colorado Renaissance Festival, a field geologist in the Aleutian Islands, and restored inter-planetary imagery at the USGS. She’s hiked to the top of Mount St. Helens and to the bottom of Meteor Crater.
Siobhan writes kick-ass adventure with hot sex for men and women to enjoy. She believes in happily ever after, redemption, and communication, all of which you will find in her paranormal romance stories.
Siobhan’s recent release, Not a Dragon’s Standard Virgin, is from Siren Publishing, and she has published Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack through Siren, and Her Devoted Vampire through Evernight Publishing. She also has a free read out entitled A Hell Hound’s Fire introducing her new Cloudburst, Colorado series.
Find Siobhan here: