Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Demonic Persuasion by Mahalia Levey
Congratulation on you book! Why don’t you tell us a little about it.
Demonic Persuasion is the first book in my trilogy Prophesies Implied. The beginning of the trilogy is the heroine Fatal returning home after a lifetime of segregation on navajo tribal lands. It's hard for her to know who to believe or where to turn after hearing web of lies about her birthright and must learn to trust the family she thought'd forsaken her while ferreting out the reason for all the lies she'd been told.
Where were you when you got your first book contract? Who did you tell?
I told anyone who would've listened! I emailed countless people and shouted it till I couldn't shout no-more :)
What genre do you write?
I write a mixture of genres and niches. I write IR Contemporary, Military Contemporary, Paranormal and Menage.
Do you publish in both print and e-book? What are the advantages?
Ebook currently, when I do both I'll post what has worked best for me in the future.
Do you have any tips for new writers?
Take the innitiative and learn all they can. To look for posts on promoting and brushing up skills. There are low cost classes and free ones frequently offered. Work on Queries and Synopsis styles. Ask for help, most authors are willing to answer questions unless they're under deadlines.
What is your guilty pleasure?
Coffee and Vanilla Zingers
Where can your readers reach you?
www.mahalialevey.com has buttons for all my sites.
Are you working on another book?
I'm working on Only Skin Deep a third short story following Flaws and All from Beautiful Trouble Publishing.
Do you have an excerpt you’d like to share?
I'll share one from Demonic Persuasion
Trailer : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uk-977EstUM
Born of a Navajo healer and a high-level prince of Hell, The Dine Gods demanded Fatal be turned over to her mother's tribe to learn their healing arts and kept away from demon hands. But with her tutelage came cruel segregation and disrespect because of her father's heritage. Not knowing why her life has suddenly come under demon attack, Fatal sets out, armed with her knowledge and her fighting skills, to take out any evil that gets in her way.
As prince of a lower level of Hell, Orobus signed a contract in blood that he be betrothed to Fatal, the high prince of Hell’s half-breed daughter. Oracle by birth, he isn’t privy to complete visions with regard to himself. Having forgotten the fateful night he signed the agreement, he’s thrust into the fight of his life—the fight to claim his woman! Come Hell or high water, he will take care of what is rightfully his, even if it means making her face both sides of her heritage and teaching her there is no shame.
Tag- A woman born half Navajo, half demon, must overcome her lifetime of separation from her demon family with the help of her demon mate.
Exiled. From the only home she’d ever known. After the first set of demons came to Fatal’s tribal lands, Sani, her grandfather and the Dine God of the Navajo, ordered her to leave permanently. Head held high, she packed her few belongings and left, determined to live her life on her own terms.
New experiences would be good for her, Fatal told herself while barhopping from Broadway to Westport Road, hoping to find the perfect atmosphere. A niggling itch under her skin kept her alert for possible trouble lurking in the shadows, but the cool metal caressing the inside of her thighs reminded her protection lay within arm’s reach. She never knew when a new set of demons would pop into her life and resented the intrusion she was forced to endure.
As she ambled down the darkened streets, she moved with a sense of ease, gaining blatant glances or admiring stares. She knew she was breathtaking, however bad omens had few friends, no dates, and no boyfriends. People in her hometown hadn’t hesitated to ask her for advice, or to chant with them when it suited their needs. She lived in solitude, with the exception of her occasional visits from her grandfather Sani, and Taima her mentor. She pushed her musings aside and moved through an alleyway that broke off to the next major street.
Silence surrounded her. She turned to head south when something caught her eye. Intrigued, she meandered down a side street and came to a demonic-looking, gargoyle-protected, granite structure. An eerie blood-red sign hung above thick vault doors with the words “Demonic Persuasion” in black paint. She’d heard of the club that catered to just about anyone’s needs and decided to get in line. Reaching the final steps to the entrance of the club, Fatal flashed a smile at the doorman and waited for him to move.
"The fee’s ten bucks."
Digging in her boot, her gaze strayed to the bunched biceps peaking out of his black tee-shirt, roving over his cut physique. Slapping cash into his hand, she smiled. "Happy now?”
"I’ll be when you check your weapons, if it's even possible for you to have any hidden underneath your black corset and micro miniskirt.”
"Oh, you’d be surprised what one can hide against near-naked skin. My name’s Ackchetta, most call me Fatal." She smirked and hiked up her skirt. Buried between her thighs were two small blades. Thin metal stars she'd hidden on her hipbones slid into her palms without effort. Flashing an annoyed expression, she dropped them in his outstretched hand. "There you go. I want them back, though."
"The one behind your back too, sweet stuff."
His droll expression did nothing to alleviate the feeling of nakedness without her weaponry. "Aren't you going to be polite and tell me your name?"
Anger set in. She smoothed her hands over her short skirt and adjusted her scant top. Her hackles rose when he spun her around and tapped the slender blade. “No one said you could touch!” She let out a growl and removed the extra-slim blade hidden under her corset top.
"My club, my rules. No fighting, no weapons, and no magic, if--you know any."
"Since you’re scared of a small thing like me, I think I can behave myself for a few hours.”
He sent a dazzling smile her way and then turned to a young woman. Dropping her weapons into an outstretched hand, he whispered into the sleek brunette woman’s ear.
Fatal narrowed her eyes. "It's rude to whisper."
"Follow Marzena, she'll take you to the weaponry hold and issue you a ticket."
“I still didn’t catch your name.”
Rude and hot. About to turn away, her breath hitched when the shimmering tattoos sprang to life on his skin. From head to toe he was a sight to behold. Long black hair touched his shoulders. His blue eyes sparkled when he smiled. Thick muscles bunched with every movement. Long legs encased in black trousers, muscular thighs brought a silent moan of want to her lips. She’d never wanted like this. She stole a look at his goatee and wondered how it’d feel scraping across her face, his breath on her mouth before he kissed her with the same intensity he stared at her with. She’d do anything to feel those lips on hers, to touch the once-broken, too-many-times-healed nose.