Please welcome E.J. Russell with
Cutie And The Beast
Fae Out Of Water #1
Welcome to the Fae Out of Water blog tour, phase one--Cutie and the Beast! I’m so looking forward to introducing you all to the Kendrick brothers and their guys, starting this month with Alun and David. As you follow along on the tours—phase two, The Druid Next Door, in August, and phase three, Bad Boy’s Bard, in September—please leave a comment and your contact information for a chance at a $50 Riptide gift card. The drawing will take place after the last Bad Boy’s Bard blog stop. Thank you so much for stopping by!
Temp worker David Evans has been dreaming of Dr. Alun Kendrick ever since that one transcription job for him, because holy cats, that voice. Swoon. So when his agency offers him a position as Dr. Kendrick’s temporary office manager, David neglects to mention that he’s been permanently banished from offices. Because, forgiveness? Way easier than permission.
Alun Kendrick, former Queen’s Champion of Faerie’s Seelie Court, takes his job as a psychologist for Portland’s supernatural population extremely seriously. Secrecy is paramount: no non-supe can know of their existence. So when a gods-bedamned human shows up to replace his office manager, he intends to send the man packing. It shouldn’t be difficult—in the two hundred years since he was cursed, no human has ever failed to run screaming from his hideous face.
But cheeky David isn’t intimidated, and despite himself, Alun is drawn to David in a way that can only spell disaster: when fae consort with humans, it never ends well. And if the human has secrets of his own? The disaster might be greater than either of them could ever imagine.
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About the Fae Out Of Water series:
Scratch that. Rrrrrewind.
Nowadays, when tales are told in 140 character bursts on tiny LED screens, rather than spun out by the glow of a midnight campfire, even Faerie’s elite have to get with the program.
The Kendrick brothers have traded longbow for briefcase, battle steed for Harley, and enchanted harp for electric guitar. But while they’re finding their feet in the modern world, instead of finding their fortunes, they stumble straight into love.
Check out the Fae Out of Water series!
Resting Curmudgeon Face
Recently, my Curmudgeonly Husband was at the grocery store and stopped at the deli. He asked the young woman behind the counter, "Why don't you have chicken gizzards?"
He says her eyes got wide and she stammered, "I don't know. I'll ask the manager," then continued to stare at him as if she thought he was about to go off on a gizzard-induced tirade—and apparently she wasn't the only store employee he terrorized that day. He'd rendered a man in the meat department speechless as well.
That’s right. Chalk up two more hapless victims of Resting Curmudgeon Face.
Frequently, when CH comes marching into my office, I ask, "Why are you frowning?"
"I'm not frowning," he says, with a deepening scowl.
He's no longer aware of how intimidating he looks—and it doesn't help that his sense of humor trends toward the sarcastic and his communication style can be a tad—shall we say—gruff?
His attitude—and others' reaction to him—inspired this scene in Cutie and the Beast between Alun and David.
"I like my office uncluttered. Soothing."
"Fine. Keep it that way. But the lobby isn't for you. It's for your clients, and their ideas of soothing may not be the same as yours." He dried his hands and binned the crumpled paper towel. "Have you ever waited in your own waiting room? It's boring. Your clients need something to occupy themselves while they wait their turn to be glowered at by you."
"I don't glower at my clients."
"Really?" David hoisted the coffee dispenser. "Lucky them." He walked toward the door, but Alun refused to budge. "Excuse me."
"I don't. Glower. At anybody."
David held up the shiny chrome urn so it reflected Alun's face, a convex image even more distorted than reality. "Take a look, Doctor. That's the definition of glower. Please move. You haven't replaced me yet, and I have work to do."
Alun moved aside and watched David's stiff-backed walk down the hall. Did he really do that? Glower? David didn't understand. This was just the way his face looked now. It didn't matter what kind of expression he wore, he always looked like a monster about to attack.
E.J. Russell holds a BA and an MFA in theater, so naturally she’s spent the last three decades as a financial manager, database designer, and business-intelligence consultant. After her twin sons left for college and she no longer spent half her waking hours ferrying them to dance class, she returned to her childhood love of writing fiction. Now she wonders why she ever thought an empty nest meant leisure.
E.J. lives in rural Oregon with her curmudgeonly husband, the only man on the planet who cares less about sports than she does. She enjoys visits from her wonderful adult children, and indulges in good books, red wine, and the occasional hyperbole.
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To celebrate the release of all three books in the Fae Out of Water series, one lucky winner across all three tours will receive a GRAND PRIZE of a $50 Riptide credit! Leave a comment with your contact info to enter the contest. Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on September 23, 2017. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries. Thanks for following the Cutie and the Beast tour, and don’t forget to leave your contact info!
Promotional post. Materials provided by the publisher.