Monday, March 23, 2015

Character Interview and Giveaway Mother May I by Genevieve Jack




I’m Genevieve Jack and I’d like to thank Roxanne for hosting me today on Fang-tastic Books blog as part of the Mother May I release tour. Today we are very fortunate that one of the stars of the Knight Games series has agreed to sit down with us for a one on one interview. Please welcome Grateful’s raven and magical familiar, Poe!


Poe: ONE of the stars. Don’t you mean, THEE star?

G. Jack: I’d say Grateful Knight plays the starring role in the series as the main character, wouldn’t you?

Poe: That hot mess? She’d be vampire fodder if it weren’t for me. If she’s the main character of the story, who am I?

G. Jack: A supporting character. Isn’t that what you do in the story? Support Grateful?

Poe: Mmm. Yes. I suppose, I am her familiar. It’s practically in my job description to support Grateful.

G. Jack: For readers who might not know, what is your job description?
Can you explain to us what a familiar does?

Poe: A familiar is a magical creature given to a witch by the goddess, Hecate, to help that witch overcome a personal shortcoming. We also amplify magic. For example, a witch who is lacking in common sense might get an owl. On the other hand, a witch who lacks independence may be given a cat. I am a raven, and ravens are given to witches who lack self-worth. I don’t think I need to tell you that ravens are the best and most important familiars to have. Who’d want a cat? ACK!

G.Jack: So, you came to Grateful when she needed self–worth. How exactly did you fix that particular shortcoming?

Poe: The secret is to never do for a witch what she can do for herself. So many familiars these days coddle their crones. Not me. If she doesn’t order me specifically to do something, I don’t do it. No wishy-washy, namby-pamby magic for me. If the girl doesn’t know what she wants, she doesn’t get it.

G.Jack: In other words, you’re lazy and do the bare minimum to keep yourself in birdseed.

Poe: *snorts* Ravens do not eat birdseed. We eat meat, usually rodents, insects, and the occasional piece of random carrion. Maggots are surprisingly sweet, actually.

G. Jack: Excuse me while I gag.

Poe: As for being lazy, it’s a gift. Not everyone could sleep fourteen hours a day in between eating six meals. But, I do it out of love. It makes my witch stronger, which is important to me.

G. Jack: There’s a reason for that, isn’t there? Why don’t you fill our readers in on why it is so important to you?

Poe: We’re connected. If she dies, I die. Looking after the lil’ sword swinger is in my best interest.

G. Jack: I see. So, it’s all about you.

Poe: Exactly. Isn’t this where we started this conversation? It appears you are in need of an owl, Ms. Jack.

G. Jack: Hey!

Poe: Hmm. Maybe two. Well… arrivederci! The mice are not going to eat themselves, you know.

It appears Poe has left the building… and a wretched mess on the chair. Damn bird. Should’ve put down newspaper. I hope you have enjoyed this interview with Poe. Read about him and his witch, Grateful Knight, in the Knight Games series, available anywhere eBooks are sold.





Mother May I
Knight Games
Book 4
Genevieve Jack

Genre: New Adult Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Carpe Luna Publishing

Date of Publication: March 16, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-940675-17-6
ASIN: B00SNAFPF4

Number of pages: 300
Word Count: 65,000

Cover Artist: Steven Novak

Book Description:

Love will launch the mother of all battles.

Grateful Knight is one stressed out witch. Not only has she failed to restore her caretaker, Rick, from an evil witch’s mind-control spell, but the loss he endured extends well beyond his memory. To make matters worse, compensating for his absence could cost her the job she loves and the strength she needs.

When a new supernatural threat leaves Grateful for dead, a vampire ally saves her life but at a price. Her assailant's calling card makes it clear she’s marked for death, possibly by her goddess mother. With the help of her half-sister Polina, can Grateful gain the power she needs to win Rick back and beat the goddess at her own game?

Available at Amazon   iBooks   Kobo  Smashwords

Power is a pain in the ass. People think they want it, they’ll kill themselves to get it, but in the end, it’s nothing but trouble. Take Tabetha’s power; I was ringing with it. As I patrolled the street in Salem I’d seen in the mirror, the geraniums in the window boxes overhead stretched their necks in my direction. Don’t get me started on the roses in my living room. I’d become the freaking Jolly Green Giant of witchdom. The summer night veritably buzzed around me as the elements of wind and wood tuned in to my presence.

So much power and so much responsibility. I hadn’t asked for it, and I sure as hell didn’t want it. But here I was.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Poe, my raven familiar, asked from my shoulder.

“Not sure. I couldn’t tell from the mirror.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t tell? And, more importantly, why on earth are we here if you don’t know what we are looking for?”

“There’s an evil presence here. We saw a woman die. She fell twitching to the street. I couldn’t see the perpetrator for some reason. Maybe she was poisoned, or it’s some sort of poltergeist or invisible demon. All I know for sure is a supernatural being means to do a human harm, and it’s our job to stop them.” Again I wondered if the deficiency of vision was due to Rick’s presence. I shook my head, not wanting it to be true. For all I knew, the enchanted mirror might be on the fritz.

“Mmm. It’s not the mirror, and I doubt it’s Rick,” Poe said, doing that intuitive thing he did that made me feel like he was in my head. “If you ask me, without Rick’s blood and, er, affections, your magic is weakening.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m more powerful than ever. I can feel every blade of grass from here to Vermont.”

“Yes, you have more power, but a more sizable engine requires a more sizable battery. You, Witcherella, are running on empty. The mirror knows and is answering in kind.”

“Hmph.” I hadn’t considered this possibility, but Poe was probably right. It wasn’t Rick’s presence making the mirror go wonky; it was his absence. Three weeks had passed since I last enjoyed Rick’s blood and as far as physical contact, that enjoyment ended at handholding. Every time I tried to get close to him, it was the fishing pole all over again. A distraction. An evasion. “I want Rick to come around on his terms. This is all new to him. He doesn’t remember anything, especially not me. I was there, not so long ago, when I first met Rick and I didn’t remember who I was. I need to be gentle with him.”

“Sex can be gentle. Have I mentioned you’re weakening?”

I groaned at his lack of subtlety. “It’s not just about blood and sex,” I murmured. “He either can’t or won’t shift or do magic of any kind. The answer is to jog his memory. I bought him a laptop today and showed him some cat videos.”

“Cat videos?” Poe forced a gag.

I spread my hands. “I want him to learn about the modern world. LOL cats are the gateway drug. Oh, and that panda that sneezes. I love that one.”

“Is he still hunting?”

“And fishing. Sometimes he stares blankly out the window,” I said honestly. “Have you ever seen squirrel stew, Poe? It ain’t pretty.”

“Sounds delicious.” Poe smacked his beak.

“I try to be charming, but it feels forced.” I pressed a finger into my chin. “It is forced. We are two strangers, and I’m trying to force him to fall in love with me like a creeper. He probably wishes the entire thing was a bad dream. Plus, I think he might be depressed.”

“Ya think? He falls asleep in 1698 and wakes up in 2015, having witnessed his fiancé burned at the stake and his entire community, including his parents, struck down by the cursed spellbook used to bind her. Of all the things Rick could be, depressed is the most logical.”

“I don’t know how to help him remember. I need him, Poe. If you’re right about the mirror and my magic is waning, things are going to go downhill fast.”

“Perhaps if you dressed a bit more comely?”

I looked down at my black T-shirt, jeans, and boots. My outfit was enchanted to remain comfortable in any weather and to bend and stretch to the demands of my job. I loved it. “What’s wrong with this?”

“You have a skull and crossbones on your chest.”

“It’s fun. It says dangerous, yet fashionably casual.”

“It says weird goth girl with emotional problems.”

“You’d have emotional problems too if your fiancé left you at the altar and then forgot who you were. This is who I am.” I stretched my arms to the sides. “Grateful Knight. Love me or leave me.”
Poe cleared his throat. “Only problem is, if Rick doesn’t love you and leaves you, it could mean your death. This is serious. If you can’t bring back Rick’s memories, at least try to make him want you. 
Tell him you need blood and sex, pronto. Love can happen at its own pace.”

Love. I hoped it could happen at all. Sometimes Rick treated me like his captor, like he didn’t quite trust me. I still loved him, even after he left me at the altar and ended up drugged in Tabetha’s bed. Those are hard things to forgive, but I’d let them go. I loved Rick from a deep, forever place in my soul. A place that couldn’t be reached by all the nastiness Tabetha had doled out before I tore her apart.

I rolled my eyes. Poe’s concern for my well-being had as much to do with his existence being tied to mine as for my safety. I got it. I did. I couldn’t go on much longer without Rick. But I also couldn’t lose him. If I pushed him too hard, I might drive him away.

“What was that?” I said, perking my ears.

“What?”

“You didn’t hear that? It was a twanging sound. Very faint. Like a guitar string being strung.”


“Crap, Grateful. Move!”

About the Author:

Genevieve Jack is a former registered nurse turned author of weird, witty, and wicked-hot paranormal romance. She grew up in a suburb of Chicago and attended a high school rumored to be haunted. There she developed a love for old cemeteries and ghost tours. Today, she specializes in original, cross-genre stories with surprising twists. She lives in Illinois with her husband, two children, and a Brittany spaniel named Riptide, who holds down her feet while she writes.





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1 comment:

bn100 said...

looks interesting

 
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