Posts Tagged ‘Fred the Mermaid’

MaryJanice Davidson’s Top Five What The *!@#? Moments from the Undead Series

Undead and Done

Ah, MaryJanice Davidson, how we love your books, your humour, your Betsy and Sink Lair, your love of shoes . . . Christine Feehan had it right when she called you, ‘Wicked fun.’ The Undead series, which comes to a close with Undead and Done (see what she did there), has made us laugh, fall in love, laugh some more and go: ‘What!?!?!?!!!!!’. And for the big closing number, plus #WelcomeToMyWorld, MaryJanice is sharing the moments when the Undead crew blew even her out of the water. Warning, if you’re new to the series, there are a couple spoilers here, plus read all the way to the bottom to discover our special deal.

 

What, just five? I could have done thirty of these. Literally thirty, I try to put at least two in every book, and this last book is #15, Undead and Done, and 15 x 2 = 30, so when you pick up one of my books, you get a lot of laughs and also math. But in the interest of time, and spoilers, here are my top five. Also: spoilers! (Seriously, spoilers. Do not cry to me about spoilers after you read an article whose entire purpose is to discuss spoilers. I will lose it. LOSE IT.)

  • Elizabeth “Betsy” Taylor wakes up dead. Yep, things got busy quickly in the very first book, chapter one, page one: a recently fired administrative assistant wakes up as the queen of the vampires. She was different pretty much immediately, and not just because she loved shoes and hated tact: she wasn’t bitten and turned, she was run over (by a Pontiac Aztec) and woke up in the funeral home. And wasn’t happy about it – besides the obvious, she was wearing someone else’s knock-off shoes and terrible make-up (fair-skinned blondes can’t pull off orange blush). Things went downhill from there.

 

  • Sinclair is the Book of the Dead. Eric Sinclair, king of the vampires, is devoted to Betsy and though it was love at first sight for him, it took his bride a while longer to come around. (That whole “you tricked me into marrying you, asshat!” thing, doncha know.) And the Book of the Dead is this terrible book accurately professing the future of vampires in general and Betsy in particular. Not only can Betsy not get rid of the thing (she pitched it into the Mississippi River; UPS brought it back), she goes temporarily insane if she reads it too long (like DVR instructions) and it’s made of human skin, written in blood. We find out when Betsy ends up in the future that not only is Horrible Future Betsy running the world 500 years from now, she’s the author of The Book, and it’s written on Eric Sinclair’s skin. And speaking of time travel . . .

 

  • Betsy accidentally changes the timeline. Our girl wasn’t having any of that “turning my husband into a creepy gross book sometime between the present and five centuries from now” nonsense and somehow (even she’s vague on the details) changed the timeline so it wouldn’t happen. When she got back to her present, her previously unhappily single best friend was living with a cop and joyfully pregnant with twins, and Christian Louboutin never existed in this timeline. Paradise on the one hand, agony on the other. And speaking of agony . . .

 

  • Betsy kills the devil. So, there’s that. Also, Betsy’s sister is the Anti-Christ. Ooh, and her roommate Marc was an evil vampire in the future, but a suicidal zombie in the new-and-improved timeline present. It was a whole thing. Several things, in fact. And speaking of several things . . .

 

  • Betsy becomes the new devil (or as her name tag proclaims her, “Hello, my name is Satan 2.0“), and the Mall of America is the new Hell. Because when you’re out of work, sometimes you have to take someone else’s job, I guess?

 

These five things all took place between books 1 and 14, so you know what that means: that despite all the above insanity, there’s still more to come in the final book, Undead and DoneWhat? You didn’t think I’d save some of the best stuff for last?

Undead and Done is out now:

Kindle: http://amzn.to/2eDgHi9

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2dCKKnC

iBooks: http://apple.co/2f8zLro

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2eBlxgC

 

Plus, did you know that we’ve also published MaryJanice’s new series Danger, Sweetheart, as well as her Fred the Mermaid series and that the first book in that series, Sleeping with the Fishes is just £1.99 in the UK for the week?

Kindle: http://amzn.to/2f00RS8

iBooks: http://apple.co/2eJH8B0

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2f04bN3

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2enA1DP

 

 

Valentine’s Day – A Little Less Ordinary

DBCPValentine’s Day is really a Marmite holiday, you either love it or you hate it. But, really? It’s a holiday!!! We say celebrate it any way you please. And to help you out MaryJanice Davidson, Maria Lewis, Penelope Douglas and Darynda Jones have agreed to offer a little advice on Valentine’s Day – A Little Less Ordinary.

Darynda has made it very clear what’s important:

Valentine’s Day — a little less ordinary — for full-time private investigator and part-time grim reaper, Charley Davidson, would be with her love interest, supernatural bad boy Reyes Farrow, in a tux. They wouldn’t have to go anywhere or do anything special, but she’s seen him in everything from a prison outfit to a biker outfit to, well, no outfit at all. A tux would be the icing on the cake. A black one, or course, to match the dark depths of his aura, with a crisp bowtie to offset the unmanageable cut of his hair, and a soft white shirt to contrast the hard expanse of the chest beneath it.

While dinner may have been on the menu, they will of course go straight to the bedroom where she will slowly — very, very slowly — relieve him of the confines of polite society. Champagne will be waiting on the nightstand. Chilled champagne. And strawberries dipped in chocolate.

The Dirt on Ninth Grave by Darynda Jones

Penelope has solved the problem of dinners that don’t work out:

A little Valentine’s note from Jax to Juliet . . .

Jax
+
Juliet

Every year I try to do this right. I have a plan, and there are things I want to say to you. Things you need to know. But if there’s one thing we both know about me, it’s that everything goes out the window when we’re alone. Everything I’m feeling and want to tell you leaves my head, and I end up failing at giving you that special romantic night out and all the other things you deserve.

You think I just get carried away and cut our dinners short. You think it’s amusing that I have no control over myself, drag you out of restaurants, and let the brand new dress you bought go to waste when I take you home to bed early.

The truth is I’m not that selfish. I love your body, baby, and I love how good we are together, but there’s a reason we haven’t been separated a single night since that summer all those years ago when we first got together. There’s a reason I can’t wait to get home every day.

You’re irreplaceable.

I could tell you that I love how you make our house a home, how you make sure that Hawke always has everything he needs, and that you’re the mother to him that I never had. How you take care of everyone and how you still shiver when I touch you.

But most of all, the thing I want to make sure you know (that I can never seem to tell you in person) is how I’m happy every day.

Every single day.

These are things I wanted to tell you, but by the time the moment comes, my nerves are shot and I just say “fuck it” and act out. That’s usually why we end up in the car before the second course has started.

So tonight, I’m going to do things differently. Romantic dinners out don’t work for me. We’re going to an inn overnight where I’m going to feed you and put you in a bath and wash every inch of you myself, so pack a bag.

But first, we’re going to laugh and have some fun. Meet me on Woodmere Hill at the golf course and dress warm. I’ll bring the sled.

Falling Away by Penelope Douglas

Maria has taken care of those of us dealing with that special werewolf in our life:

What not to get the werewolf who has everything this Valentine’s Day by Maria Lewis

  • Stuffed bunny rabbit holding an ‘I wub you’ heart: Yeah look, nothing is going to incite the beast like giving it a very chewable and dispensable version of a creature it likes to chase three days of the month. Points for trying though.
  • Silver love heart pendant: Sure, why not? Oh that’s right, SILVER BURNS THE FLESH OFF A WEREWOLF WHAT IS YOUR DAMAGE?! You’re trying impress the girl, not watch her collarbone go up in the flames.
  • Romantic walk under the moonlight: This could be a fine and sweet way to spend the Valentine’s evening, but best to check the moon phases before you head out as that stroll after dinner could literally see you become dinner.
  • Chocolates: You can’t go wrong with chocolates unless . . . it’s that time of the month. No, not that time of the month, that other time of the month when the special female werewolf in your life is more likely to eat townspeople than a Twix. If it’s within a few days of the full moon, better to pick up a treat from the butcher instead. We recommend beef forequarter, tenderloin or brisket navel (all raw, of course).
  • Flowers: It’s a bit basic, but it does express both thoughtfulness and romance. Unless you bought her sunflowers. The only thing sunflowers say is that you hate both her and you hate yourself. Sunflowers are Satan’s flower.

Who’s Afraid? by Maria Lewis

And, MaryJanice brings us full circle by emphasising what is important:

     My perfect Valentine’s Day? Oh, that’s easy. Dinner with my husband, Tony, at Forepaugh’s, in St. Paul, Minnesota, where I can enjoy the love of my life. I can explain the wondrous experience in three words. (Not those three words. Ugh, boring.) Deconstructed Banana Cream Pie! Wait, that’s four words.

     Forepaugh’s isn’t just a restaurant, it’s a Victorian mansion they turned into a restaurant. And it’s not just a Victorian mansion, it’s a haunted Victorian mansion. And it’s not just a haunted Victorian mansion, it’s a haunted Victorian mansion that serves wonderful food. Plus, again: . You can check them out here: http://www.forepaughs.com. They’re not paying me to endorse them, but you can bet I’ll bring this to their attention and try to wrangle a free meal, or at least a free dessert. The dessert. The thing without which life is meaningless. (Sorry, Tony: I do love you. I do. But this is something else entirely. You are not a part of this. But hey, Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetie!)

     They bring it to you on a long narrow platter while your husband is talking about his job or the children or the life you’ve made together or whatever. The dessert rests on a pile of something that looks like Cocoa Krispies, which they call chocolate-hazelnut praline, and resting on top of the Cocoa Krispies/praline is whipped vanilla crème brûlée, and on top of the brûlée is a caramelised banana with agave nectar, and on top of the banana is a lovely little mound of vanilla bean whipped cream.

     In a word: drooooooool.

And the thing is, I could be the greatest scribe in the history of the written word (and I’m not — I’m close, but I’m not quite there yet) and my description still wouldn’t do the thing justice. It is the most delicious, sweet/creamy/crunchy dessert ever, and no Valentine’s Day would be complete without it. And, I dunno, also having the love of your life at your side or something, I guess?

So the word of the day isn’t love or even lust. It’s much more basic than that. The word of the day is droooooool.

Sleeping with the Fishes by MaryJanice Davidson