Eve Conley-Adyemi, a clairsentient mortician being stalked by an angry spirit, is no stranger to supernatural drama. But when a vampire rock star shows up on her front porch begging her to end his undead existence, she gives him a hard pass. Besides, her death magic doesn’t work that way. Soon, the sensitive rocker named Jonnie Tollens wins Eve’s interest, and they team up to defeat her poltergeist and cure his vampirism. Their quest leads them to a supernatural expat community in Peru who might have solutions, unlocking dark, potent facets of her powers along the way. As they fall for each other, they lose control of the exact forces they need to harness. Worse, a marathon research session uncovers terrifying facts on who is really pulling the magical strings. Can Eve and Jonnie fix their broken lives together before a rising tide of dark magic engulfs them both?
Give us the one to two sentence tagline for your book.
A mortician witch who speaks to the dead and a vampire rock star team up to unravel a dark mystery, but their inconvenient attraction to each other threatens to derail their best laid plans.
What is your favorite scene/moment in your book?
I love the first moment where Eve and Jonnie meet. They’re stressed and distracted by their problems, yet the attraction is undeniable even as they battle it. Those elements, combined with the foreshadowing of the rainy fall night, really set the stage for the book’s tone.
How do you use magic in your book?
Eve has natural psychic abilities that strengthen and evolve as she studies the craft of magic, so there’s that interplay between the innate and the learned. On the other hand, Jonnie’s supernatural aspects are the result of a medical intervention with paranormal components, so you’ve also got that dynamic tension between science and magic that I think adds intrigue and depth to the story.
Would your hero enjoy pumpkin spice lattes, candy corn, or apple bobbing?
Jonnie turns to candy when he needs quick energy fixes, so he’d be all about the candy corn!
What costume would your heroine (or hero if MM) wear to a halloween party?
A little black dress with a witch hat and other witchy flair-self-aware while looking good.
What scene did you adore writing in this book?
The HEA! I was delighted to finally give these two the happy ending they deserved after putting them through so much turmoil.
Is this book a spooky/scary PNR, or a cozy/snuggling with a monster PNR?
Definitely on the spooky side but with romance, humor, and light-hearted moments to balance out the scare factor.
What is your favorite monster to write?
Made up ones, like the monsters in Blood Sugar.
If you had to pick, would you rather have fangs, claws, or wings?
Wings! Give me those magical powers of flight.
Halloween’s coming. Do you do anything special to celebrate?
My 10-year wedding anniversary is two days before Halloween, so it’s a special time of year in more ways than one.
Excerpt from Bood Sugar
“Excuse me. I need your help.” A man spoke in a posh English voice quickened with distress. The worry in his tone prevented an onset of terror, but she clutched the pepper spray canister on her keychain all the same.
She reluctantly turned to face him. A sense of uncanniness froze her mind at the first sight of the angular, familiar face looking down at her. Though he stood in the shadows, she recognized the distinctive cut of his aquiline nose.
Could he have some connection to her past? Might he be a cousin or friend of the dead woman she’d wronged? “Help with what? Who are you?”
Eve scanned him, searching her memory. He was white, or perhaps multiracial like her, with ear-length dark hair secured in a blue bandana and a few days of stubble crawling over a jawline as defined as the rest of his elven facial features. Large hands disappeared into the pockets of black jeans painted onto stilt-like legs. Lean arms went on for days. Palpable sadness offset his striking looks, all of it adding up to a compelling impression prompting her to forgo telling him to get lost.
“I need to talk to you. Please. I mean you no harm whatsoever. I realize I should have rung first, but I wanted to explain my outlandish predicament in person. I was afraid if I phoned you and launched into the entire story, you’d figure me for a prankster and hang up straight away.”
He pressed his lips into a line. The pleading manner of his speech left her no lingering doubt of his honesty, and the way his head hung and his broad shoulders drooped triggered an ache beneath her breastbone. What remained of her initial spark of fear died. Nothing about this man was threatening or sketchy. Rivulets of rain sluiced down his sleek leather jacket, enhancing the tragic energy around him. Poor guy walked over without an umbrella. Eve relaxed her grip on the pepper spray.
“Okay, I’m listening. But I’m sorry, you look so familiar and I can’t help but be distracted by this sense that we’ve met before. Have we?” Who was this person? Someone from mortuary school, a long-forgotten high school acquaintance? No, she’d never known any Brits.
A half-smile curved his mouth as he stepped out of the shadows. Though darkness obscured the color of his irises, night couldn’t hide the playful glimmer in his gaze. “Bet you’ve seen me on the telly.”
“You’re on television?” A screeching gust of wet wind blew his scent in her direction, and she caught whiffs of wet leather, cigarette smoke, and spicy aftershave mixed with male pheromones. A tingle chased through her, an effect of the intrigue. And maybe Mr. Mystery’s sexy aroma. Eve’s ex smelled like beer and lazy hygiene, a contrast heightening her sensory enjoyment of the man in front of her.
Mr. Mystery withdrew his hands from his pockets and rotated a ring around the longest, shapeliest finger she had ever seen. He wore a couple of additional rings, none of them wedding bands. Ridiculous that she noticed that in the first place, worse that she got a minor head rush when she did.
Still playing with his hands, Mr. Mystery looked Eve in the eye. Maybe what interested her most about this man was how large he loomed despite his nameless, anonymous status. Like some old-world deity walking amongst mere mortals. “All over it. Music videos, interviews, documentaries and whatnot.”
When not reading or writing, Kat works for a college, teaches yoga, and lives the mom life. She has too many plants, guards her gym time with her life, and is quite adept at picking up objects with her toes. Kat is represented by Jana Hanson at Metamorphosis Literary Agency.