I'm super excited to have author Vanessa North stopping by today. Not only because she is super talented, but also because she, like me, lives in Georgia.
Today Vanessa is going to tell us a little about her new story -- which is also a m/m romance! And judging this book by the cover, it looks HOT!
Hi Lacey, thanks for having me here today!
Since Lacey and I are both Georgia girls, I thought I’d talk a little bit about writing a southern hero for Shifter’s Song. While Shifter’s Song takes place at the Wiccan Haus, Lincoln Tucker brings a bit of “hey y’all” to the Haus with him.
Lincoln grew up in North Carolina, somewhere west of Winston and East of Asheville, and has a deep love for his mountain music and his drink of choice: Cheerwine (sadly, not served in the Wiccan Haus dining room). From the moment Lincoln strutted onto the page, I knew he was a Carolina boy. I saw him struggling to play connect the dots with his public persona and his very private one, and taking solace in the familiar rhythms of old folk songs. And every time I wrote a bit of his dialogue, it came spilling out in a perfect western Carolina accent.
He might look out of place among the good ol’ boys in his skinny jeans and guyliner, but when he opens his mouth to sing, pure Carolina gold is what comes out.
About The Book
When his brother goes missing en route to the Wiccan Haus, Edouard discovers an unexpected ally--and more.
Edouard Bonsaint has a bear-sized problem. He hasn't shifted in ten years, and isn't sure he even can anymore. Chaperoned by his youngest brother, Bruno, he heads to the Wiccan Haus to ask Rekkus for help. But when Bruno doesn't show up on the other side of the portal, Edouard's inability to shift is no longer his biggest problem.
Lincoln Tucker has it all: money, fame, and a golden voice. But he's in the closet twice over--few people know he's gay, and even fewer know he can shift into a songbird at will. Downtime at the Wiccan Haus between tours allows him to be himself. Throw a big toppy bear-shifter into the mix, and Lincoln might just have all he's ever wanted--if he can trust himself to hold on to Edouard.
With passions and tempers burning hot, can Lincoln help Edouard bring forth the bear and save his brother?
“Tell me about your brother,” Lincoln finally said, setting down the cup of tea Sage had brought him.
“Bruno is…quiet. He’s the kind of guy who thinks about everything at least three times before he actually does it. He’s a writer, and he doesn’t seem to mind if most of his friends are fiction. He’s kind of a loner.”
“I’m sorry he’s missing.”
“Yeah.” Edouard tried to swallow a bite of his food but it felt like it would stick in his throat. Finally, he managed to get it down and took a sip of water. He looked back across the table at Lincoln and his hand paused halfway back to the table, forgotten.
The look on Lincoln’s face was thick and carnal, determined. He’d seen that look on the dance floor of the gay bar he visited in Quebec City sometimes—when another man looked at him that way, it usually meant he was going to get lucky. Edouard felt heat flood his gut as he met Lincoln’s eyes. Lust, hot and sharp, flared up, and his jeans suddenly seemed three sizes too small. Paired with it was a raging sense of guilt that he was even thinking about sex while his brother was missing.
“What do you do? For a living, I mean,” Lincoln asked.
“I’m a wildlife photographer. I sell prints through my website, and I’ve had some pieces in some pretty big magazine spreads. Being not-quite-human helps me get closer to the animals. I understand them better.”
“What do you shift into?” Lincoln asked. Edouard bristled, then realized Lincoln was just making typical Para small-talk. Still, he was surprised as anyone when he answered.
“I don’t, that’s the problem—why I came to the Haus.”
“Okay, what are you supposed to shift into?” If there’d been any mocking to Lincoln’s voice, Edouard wouldn’t have answered, but all he heard was curiousity.
“The Bonsaints are a very old brown bear clan.” He pushed his food around on his plate some more as he said it, uncomfortable with this line of questioning. He could talk about photography all night long, but shifting…no.
“You’re kidding me.”
Edouard looked up to see Lincoln laughing.
“Bear? It’s just…” Lincoln’s laugh died down and he glanced around the room, as if to be certain no one listened. “…the beard, the muscles…”
Ah. Yeah, that. He was pretty sure Lincoln was gay now. Otherwise he wouldn’t be snickering at Edouard with that sly little smile on his face. Okay, it was a little funny. Guilt-be-damned—he smiled back. Fine, he could be just as unsubtle when it suited him.
“So what does a twink like you shift into?”
“How do you know I’m a shifter?” Lincoln leaned close and Edouard breathed in his scent. Clean and cold, nothing he’d ever smelled before, but also sex and magic, as familiar as it was strange. The combination sent a shudder of lust through Edouard, and one look at Lincoln’s face, eyes sparkling with challenge, and he knew he’d sensed it too. Maybe Lincoln wasn’t a shifter, but he certainly hadn’t objected to being called a twink. Too young for you, Edouard.
“So what are you? Changeling? Fae?”
“No, you were right the first time.” Lincoln sat back in his seat. “Tell you what, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Edouard, unfortunately, chose the exact wrong moment to take a sip of his water, because at Lincoln’s innuendo-laden statement, it sprayed out his nose and started a coughing fit.
“You heard me. Wake the bear, and I’ll show you what I look like in my other form.”
“No. Of all the people on this island, you’re the last person I’d want to see that part of myself.”
Lincoln’s face stiffened into a smiling mask, and Edouard glanced away. It’s for your own good, kid.
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