Is love strong enough to conquer even death? What about a heart of stone? Errat wants a life. When the Angel of Death needs a weekend off, she rips Errat off the side of a building in downtown Chicago, infuses him with heavenly ichor, and makes him a substitute for forty-eight hours—in name only. Ecstatic to be free, he promises to do exactly as the Angel of Death asks in hopes of remaining alive after the weekend. Under no circumstances will he reap any souls and yield the Kiss of Death on anyone. His only desire is to spend time with the beautiful punk-rock woman who visits him often. Zosia has a plan. She hasn’t shared her plan with anyone—not even her grotesque friend with whom she talks so much. For twenty years, these voices inside of her head have kept her from focusing on anything, and she is designing an app which needs to be coded. Halloween is this weekend—the night with the thinnest veil between this world and the next. She will implore all the forces of the universe to take these voices away from her. But is her stone friend coming to life a sign for the better or worse? Will this Halloween romance set her free, or will it be the end of both their lives?
Give us the one to two sentence tagline for your book.
Is love strong enough to conquer even death? What about a heart of stone?
What is your favorite scene/moment in your book?
When Errat and Zosia get to talk to each other for the first time.
How do you use magic in your book?
I use Magical Realism. Which means that magic exists in my story, but there’s not real source or rules to explain it. It just is.
Would your hero enjoy pumpkin spice lattes, candy corn, or apple bobbing?
He loves ALL the new experiences!
What costume would your heroine (or hero if MM) wear to a halloween party?
Errat and Zosia actually go to a Halloween party, and they both dress up, but I don’t want to give any spoilers.
What scene did you adore writing in this book?
When Errat gets to fulfil his fantasy of smelling Zosia and feeling her skin…yeah, that scene.
Is this book a spooky/scary PNR, or a cozy/snuggling with a monster PNR?
Totally a cozy/snuggling with a monster PNR! Errat is a giant cinnamon roll hero!
What is your favorite monster to write?
Too many to answer.
If you had to pick, would you rather have fangs, claws, or wings?
Absolutely wings–as would Errat!
Excerpt from My Weekend With Death: A Grotesque Halloween Romance Novella
Finishing her salad, she brushed her hands on her pants legs, took another swig of her drink, and pulled a sketch pad out of her bag. “It’s too bright to try to code today, so I’m going to take advantage of the warm light and draw your profile, you ethereal monster, you. I like how you blend in with this gothic city. Even in the bright sunlight.”
Monster. My heart sank as her pencil started to vibrate with quick, short strokes. She thought I was hideous. And I was. I was Errat. It was the name my sculptor gave me after I disappointed him for not turning out perfectly like he expected. Although a perfect monster seemed a paradox.
She chatted incessantly, which I loved most about her. Being appreciated by someone for being myself was a new yet familiar desire. She was the only one who ever paid any attention to me or spoke directly to me. Well, almost the only one.
She stopped drawing and stood. “Your nose…” She moved to stand directly in front of me.
Oh, no, here it comes.
She was about to discover my biggest flaw. Literally. Reaching up, she brushed her tiny fingers up and down the bridge of my overworked and hastily repaired nose. “…is unique. And big. How have I not noticed it before?”
I swallowed hard.
Her voice changed to a whisper. “It most certainly is not that bad!”
Even if she hated my nose, I begged the heavens to let me feel her touch as her fingers swept across the sides of my snout and down around the curves of my nostrils. I wanted to know the sensations of her fingers on my skin. Was she warm, or was she cold like me? A faint sensation of warmth teased my memory.
“I like it. Lucky for you, I’m not into pretty boys, and lucky for me, you tolerate my freakiness. And who would better know about freakiness than a monster with angel wings? Besides, you know what they say about big noses.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me and blushed at her own joke, her thick charcoal-traced eyes falling to the ground.
She liked my giant, malformed nose! In an instant, I did not weigh a literal ton. I was a liberated mass of concrete, simultaneously floating freely due to her words and tethered to her hands which were once again cupping my face.
This time she brushed the tip of her own nose back and forth against the tip of mine. “I have to go downstairs to work now, my handsome monster, mój potwór. And then it’s on the train and the bus back to Portage Park. I’ll see you soon.”
My heart soared. If there was a way to be with her, I would take it.
No matter what.
Angelique Migliore writes #IRMC Romances in Contemporary, Mythological Fantasy, and Science Fiction.
She’s a former linguist and a professional foodie with an MA in Religious Studies.
Ever the optimist, Angelique believes the best is yet to come, sharing a meal is the quickest route to peace, and love conquers all.
She enjoys hearing from her Dearest Readers.