First I would Like to thank Sonya For stopping and guest posting today, Now I'm turning BLH over to Sonya.
There are certain things readers of urban fantasy have come to expect because of their prevalence in the genre. Kick-ass, leather pants, and tramp stamps are common descriptors for urban fantasy heroines. When I started writing Mojo Queen I knew I wanted something a little different for main character Roxanne Mathis.
Roxie is a paranormal investigator. She's also a hoodoo root worker who can see auras and spectral entities. Her life isn't about beating up bad guys, it's about using natural magic to defend against supernatural problems. She's got a casual wardrobe of jeans and cargo pants, tee shirts and boots. She wears glasses, what with being near-sighted. If she had the extra money to spare she'd choose to blow it on blues records rather than a tattoo. Unlike the reluctant heroines of some stories, Roxie has no real desire for that fabled “normal life”. She feels at home in a supernatural world most would find terrifying. Here's a passage from Goofer Dust Blues, one of the Mojo short stories available on the Free Reads page of my blog.
A gust of wind disturbed my hair, giving me a little spook. It tripped that switch in the back of my brain or deep down in my gut or wherever it was, the switch that flipped when the spook was just right and shivered across the ends of my nerves. The thing is, I like the dark. I like the spook. I feel at home there, walking alongside the things that go bump in the night. Not for nothing is my best friend a vampire.
Someone brave enough, or crazy enough, to be friends with a vampire must not be afraid of anything. Roxie does get scared though, and she has a healthy respect for all those creatures and spirits that live in the dark and sometimes cause mischief and mayhem. She gets scared, but she does her job anyway. She doesn't make a big deal out of it but she believes in helping people. Most folks can't handle the supernatural world so they don't know what to do when they come face to face with it. Remembering what it was like as a kid and first dealing with her auric vision and finding herself surrounded by ghosts, Roxie wants to help people who are out of their depth in the dark. Even if it means sometimes she finds herself in over her head. She might have to bluff her way through a situation, or she might have to jump blind and hope she sticks the landing. With her knowledge of hoodoo, her magical abilities, and yes her vampire best friend, she hasn't found a thing yet she didn't have the mojo to vanquish. Who needs leather pants when you are the Mojo Queen?
Winners will be chosen from all of those who enter via the form (click HERE to fill out form),
leave comments at tour stops for bonus entries
you can also enter at each tour stop
10 winners will receive signed book plates
2 winners will receive free ebook copies of Mojo Queen
1 grand prize winner will receive the Mojo Prize Pack, which includes:
· Signed book plate
· Mojo Queen playlist CD
· A voodoo doll
· A protective mojo hand
· Spirit of Good Luck incense
· A seven day spell candle
· A bag of graveyard dirt
The winners will be announced on Sonya's blog on Friday, August 19. Physical prizes open to US Shipping Only Please. Ebooks international.
Click HERE to fill out the Form.
Hoodoo and high magic are on a collisioncourse.
Roxanne Mathis isn't like everyone else. Not only can she see auras and spectral entities,she can mix herbs and roots for spells to do good or ill. She can even light a candlewithout the benefit of a match. But when she’s hired to exorcise a demon from a young girl, she discovers the limits of her powers.
With her vampire cousin at her side and a sexy sorcerer chasing her on the rebound, Roxie sets out to send that evil entity back to where she came from.
Nothing is as it seems and Roxie’s in over her head. It’s not going to be enough for her to just be a paranormal investigator and old school root worker – to defeat this demon, she’s going to have to be the Mojo Queen.
Direct from Lyrical Press:
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I sat in the chair opposite the loveseat, placing the candles on the coffee table. Glanced at him to make sure I still had his attention, which of course I did. One side of his mouth still curled up in a smirk, eyebrow quirked. I sat back, let myself sink into the comfy chair and relax as much as possible. First the candle on the left. Focusing on the wick, I visualized a tiny flame erupting from it--concentrating my will, pouring energy into my intention. I could feel myself sliding further into exhaustion as energy curled inside me, but after a long, agonizing moment the candle came to life. I let out a breath before I could stop myself, avoiding his gaze. I didn’t want him to know how much this was taking out of me, but I had a bad feeling it was obvious. I turned my attention to the other candle and though it took even longer this time, it too lit. I felt almost as bad as I had this afternoon.
Blake reached for a backpack on the floor I had not seen in the darkness. He opened it, fished something out, and tossed it to me. I didn’t so much catch it as let it fall in my lap. A chocolate candy bar.
It was my turn to quirk an eyebrow. Waving the bar at him I said, “What, is this to ward off dementors?”
The smirk became a genuine smile again briefly. “Something like that. You need to eat.”
I gave him a skeptical look.
“You know you’re using energy with that.” He gestured at the candles. “The energy needs to be replenished.”
I rolled my eyes but tore open the wrapper. The chocolate tasted, well, damn, like mainlining something illegal. Maybe he had a point. I was halfway through the bar when he spoke again, as
if there had been no pause.
“Especially since you don’t really know what you’re doing yet.” Even in the low candlelight I had no trouble seeing the wicked amusement in his dark eyes.
I managed to finish chewing without choking, tossed the remainder of the candy bar on the coffee table and sat up straighter. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here? Or better yet, tell me where I can find your demon lover? So I can send her back to Hell.”
“Well, actually, that’s exactly why I’m here, Roxanne.” Like we were discussing insurance or something. “I want you to find my demon lover.”
Gob-smacked, all I could manage was, “Huh?”
“And I want you to send her back to Hell.”
About The Author:
Sonya Clark grew up an Army brat, living all across the United States as well as Japan and Germany by the time she graduated high school. Books were one of the few constants in her life.
An eclectic reader, she always had a special love for the paranormal and is a lifelong fangirl of all things that go bump in the night.
A deep love of music is another constant thread in all of her fiction. She writes at a desk equipped with High John the Conqueror root and a mojo hand. She has worshipped at the mother church of country music, traveled the back roads of the blues highway, been to the crossroads at midnight, and though she’s never cooked up a mess of polk salad, she has been to Graceland four times.
She lives with her husband and Yorkie in Tennessee.