15 June 2010
Hi Jenny, thanks for having me here today. I’m Cindy, author of Motor City Fae, available now at Carina Press. I live in southern Michigan (outside Detroit) with my husband of 25 years and 2 mostly-grown sons. The menagerie at the moment is two oversized dogs (both St. Bernard mixes) and a rescue iguana. You can find all my links & such at the bottom of the post.
Jenny asked what I hope readers will remember about Motor City Fae, and my answer is pretty simple—that even if the characters aren’t exactly human, the love and other emotions are universal. Even in paranormal romance, I think the reader has to identify a little with the heroine, and fall a little in love with the hero. If the reader is single, it’s a chance to experience that feeling of falling in love, if we’re attached, it’s an opportunity to relive the beauty of that moment, without actually having to get a new partner. I want the reader to feel, along with Meagan, the emotions that make her tremble when Ric sings a song that’s just for her.
For the Carina Press virtual time capsule I’ll toss in a Detroit Tigers’ jersey, like the one Meagan sleeps in.
Also, here’s the blurb and a little snippet from MCF.
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.
The insistent electronic chirping of the phone woke Meagan from the fitful slumber she’d finally fallen into several hours after Ric had dumped her on her doorstep. She pulled a pillow over her head, planning to let the machine pick it up, but as soon as it did, the caller hung up and apparently hit redial, because the ringing started all over again. Twice.
On the third set of rings, she gave in to the inevitable, reached out and grabbed the phone, knocking a lamp and a half-full glass of water off her nightstand in the process.
“Somebody better be bleeding,” she growled into the receiver.
“Would groveling be okay?”
There was silence on the line for a few moments as her semi-conscious brain tried to place the warm, sexy voice. Maybe this was a dream. Then it occurred to her that she actually knew that voice. “Ric?”
She shook her head to clear it, make extra sure it wasn’t a dream. “What time is it?” She peered at the clock, now tilted at a weird angle. “Why are you calling me at seven o’clock in the morning?”
She sat up and her leg bumped against something cold and metallic. Ah. She’d been so scared last night she’d taken her favorite softball bat to bed with her.
“To apologize?” Ric’s reply sounded like a question.
“You couldn’t have done that at a reasonable hour?”
“And to check on you.”
“Huh?” Did this have to do with his lock your door and set the alarm rambling last night? “I’m fine.” Well, unless you counted being really, really cranky due to frustration and lack of sleep.
“Look, I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”
“Come in? Where are you?”
There was a pause. Then he cleared his throat. “Um—in your driveway.”
She crawled out of bed and crept over to the window, peeking out from under the blinds.
Sure enough, there was the shiny silver Jag, sitting right behind her car. He must have seen her, because the lights flashed when she looked.
“Yes, Meagan, I saw you,” said the warm voice over the phone, as if he was reading her mind. “Can I come in? Please? I brought coffee.”
She couldn’t refuse him, damn it. He sounded too sincere and his kiss had been too darned hot. “Oh, all right. I’ll be down in two minutes.” She slammed the phone down and dragged on a pair of red running shorts, which probably clashed horribly with the orange and blue Detroit Tigers T-shirt she’d been sleeping in. She shook out her snarled-up hair and sighed. There was no way she was going to be able to untangle it without a shower. Grabbing an elastic band, she pulled the curling mess back into a haphazard ponytail as she scrambled down the stairs. She paused in the bathroom long enough to use the facilities and brush her teeth.
“Only salesmen and other psychos are up this early. You’d better not be an axe murderer or anything,” she grumbled as she opened the door after disarming the alarm. “If you kill me, I swear I’ll haunt you and make the rest of your life miserable. Same goes if you try to sell me life insurance.”
You can read the complete first chapter of Motor City Fae online here, and click here to find out more about how to purchase the book. You can find me on the web at
Finally, as part of my blog tour promoting Motor City Fae, 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 is: What team’s jersey does Meagan use as a nightshirt?