Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Naughty Halloween Guest Post and Giveaway with Jodi Redford

There’s no question that Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I love the decorations, the awesome costumes, the general spookiness. And don’t even get me started on the candy. Is there anything more delicious than mini Snickers?

I think not. Another of my favorite parts of this season is the month-long scare-a-thon of movies that channels like Sy-Fy love to host.

Vamps, ghosts, homicidal maniacs in ski masks…I love them all. But my all times faves are the zombie flicks. Give me the rotting, shambling reanimated dead on the lookout for a tasty finger sandwich and I’m a happy camper.

In fact, my love of zombies led me to write That Voodoo You Do, the very first book in my That Old Black Magic series. I knew I wanted to feature zombies in this book, and once my mind became fixated on the idea of a witch and her familiar having wicked, forbidden sex that triggers a possible zombie apocalypse, there was no stopping me.

What can I say? My muse is one weird chick…who also loves mini Snickers, coincidentally enough.

That Voodoo You Do blurb :

Something dead this way comes…

That Old Black Magic, Book 1

For ten long years Griffin Trudeau has managed to keep his paws off Jemma Finnegan, best friend and leading star of his kinkiest fantasies. As her appointed cat familiar, indulging those fantasies with the delectable witch is strictly forbidden. But when Jemma shows up at his door with seduction in mind, control goes right out the window.

Too late he realizes making love to Jemma is the trigger that launches a zombie apocalypse.

Jemma’s been dealt a double whammy: she’s just discovered she’s a witch. And Griff has been hiding whiskers and a tail. Oh, and if her life wasn’t crazy enough, a dead voodoo queen needs her blood to raise a legion of zombies.

There’s one plan that might work to increase Jemma’s powers so she can put an end to the looming holocaust. A sexy threesome with Griff and Logan Scott, a werewolf familiar with a history of rubbing Griff’s fur the wrong way. A cat and a wolf playing nice, much less sharing?

It’ll take a miracle.

Warning: A witch, tiger and wolf doing naughty things. A dead voodoo queen doing evil things. And zombies doing zombie things. Get your shovels ready.


Griffin Trudeau didn’t know it, but he was about to have his bones jumped.

Bumping her car door shut with her rear end, Jemma Finnegan resituated her corset top, strategically plumping her cleavage to maximum overload. Satisfied her best assets were properly displayed, she strolled toward the log home nestled in the thick stand of white pines. The butterflies that’d taken up residence in her belly for the past hour started doing a drunken version of the Macarena. Sure, she’d taken this walk hundreds of times, but never with the end goal of seducing her best friend.

Hell, one of them had to get the ball rolling. If she left it to Griff to act on their mutual attraction, her vagina would shrivel up.

The windows flanking the front door were cracked an inch, allowing the spicy aroma of oregano and thyme to waft outside and taunt her nostrils. Okay, maybe she’d wait until after gobbling a bowl of Griff’s world-class spaghetti before tackling him into bed.

She gave a warning rap on the door and stepped inside the foyer. Normally she’d kick off her shoes and enjoy walking around barefoot, but the sexy high heels she’d splurged on gave her a much-needed boost of confidence. Not to mention they made her short legs appear longer. Hell, she needed to use all the ammunition at her disposal to get Griff panting after her.

“Lucy, I’m home.” Following the faint strains of Bob Seger playing on the radio, she trekked into the kitchen and found Griff hunkered in front of the étagère. The overhead track lighting accentuated the natural highlights in his sable strands, making her fingers itch to run through his hair. Apparently oblivious of the effect he had on her, he continued inspecting the various labels before reaching for a bottle of red wine. His broad shoulders shifted enticingly beneath his forest-green polo shirt and she dragged in a deep breath, willing the delicious scent of Griff’s cooking to beat her libido into submission.

“Hey, Jem? I don’t have Chianti. Will you lower your lofty standards this once and drink merlot instead?” He swung his head in her direction. The expression that crossed his face made the contortionist dance it’d taken to squeeze into her skintight jeans and the corset top totally worth it.

Smothering her grin of triumph, she rounded the kitchen island, her black patent stiletto heels clicking on the wooden floor planks. She stopped in front of him and leaned down, planting her breasts squarely in his face. “Would you like me to get that?”

He didn’t immediately answer. His focus, however, remained glued to her cleavage.

Ground control, we have contact. “Griff…the wine?”

Snapping out of his trance, he passed her the bottle. She repaid his mute obedience with a smacking kiss on his forehead, an action she’d indulged in more times than she could count. This time the gesture had the hidden benefit of awarding him a bird’s-eye view down her corset. His loud gulp music to her ears, she pivoted and strode to the center island, making sure she put plenty of sashay in her booty. She couldn’t say for sure, but she swore a whimper trickled from Griff.

Yanking open the middle drawer, she pulled out the corkscrew. Sounds of him shuffling around and the melodic clinking of stemware competed with the raspy strains of Seger crooning about “Night Moves” and the roiling bubbles building in the pasta pan. The familiar backdrop of the noises surrounding her were both comforting and arousing, adding to the heady buzz of sexual tension that hung thick in the air. Swiveling, she caught the spastic twitch in Griff’s jaw and knew he felt the brewing chemistry too. Biting the inside of her cheek in an effort to stifle her smile, she worked the pointed end of the corkscrew into the foil cap topping the wine bottle. “So how did everything go at the store today?”

“Your dad was his typical slave-driver self.” Beneath the mock sarcasm, genuine affection laced Griff’s tone. He and her dad were not only boss and employee, but good buddies. A fact she was eternally grateful for. If things did progress beyond friends-with-benefits between her and Griff, she didn’t need to worry about her parents not supporting the relationship. Crap, who was she kidding? They’d be so overjoyed they’d probably throw a party.

“Dad’s lucky to have you. No one runs that place like you do.” Or looks as hot in a tool belt. For that reason alone she made sure to stop in at Finnegan Hardware at least three days a week. Something her cousins loved to tease her about unmercifully, the brats. Chewing her lip, she smoothed a hand over the waist of her top. She noticed Griff’s unblinking fascination as he visually tracked the path her fingers took. Tingles skipped across her skin. “You haven’t commented on my outfit.”

His gaze immediately veered to her boobs again before shooting away. “You look…different.” The gravel in his voice betrayed him and he cleared his throat. “Maybe I shouldn’t have made spaghetti. I’d hate for you to accidentally splatter sauce on your white top.”

Hoo boy. Could he have given her a better lead in? “Hmm, should I take it off then?” Conjuring her inner mischievous vixen, she reached for her top’s uppermost eyehook. The glasses slipped from Griff’s hold and clunked onto the kitchen counter.

Jodi’s bio:

At the ripe age of seven, Jodi Redford penned her first epic, complete with stick figure illustrations. Sadly, her drawing skills haven’t improved much, but her love of fantasy worlds never went away. These days she writes about fairies, ghosts, and other supernatural creatures, only with considerably more heat.

She has won numerous contests, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star. When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality television shows.

Currently residing in Michigan with her husband and overgrown lapdog, she is a member of RWA national and Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America.

She loves to hear from readers. You can email her at and visit her online at She invites you to follow her crazy ramblings on Twitter and Facebook.

purchase link:

Jodi is giving away an autographed copy of

That Voodoo You Do (US shipping)
or a non-autographed copy from The Book Depository to anyone outside of the US
To enter leave a comment on this spot

Please include your email and if you are US or International


buddyt said...

Happy (early) Halloween !

Thanks for the giveaway and for opening it to worldwide entries.

I am an International entry

Please enter me in the giveaway.


Carol T

buddytho {at} gmail DOT com

Kasumi said...

Thanks for the international chance!
I think it's a good synopsis, but the excerpt is great! :D


Debby said...

please enter me in the giveaway. With all those people doing their own things, then readers get to do their things.
debby236 at gmail dot com

mnjcarter said...

Wow, nice excerpt!!! Love the warning at the end of the summary!! That's alot of different characters doing naughty things!! Going on my TBR!! It's always a little nice when thry're naughty:D

Thanks for the giveaway!!

Tatiana L. said...

Great excerpt!
Happy Halloween from Hawaii!
And thank you for the giveaway!


Chrisbails said...

Great excerpt. Loved this book and would love to have a copy of it. Jodi is a great writer and sexy storyteller. Thanks for the giveaway and the chance to win.

elaing8 said...

Great post and giveaway.
Thanks for the chance to win this.Sounds like a great book.

tetewa said...

Enjoyed the post and thanks for the giveaway!

Vanessa N. said...

Awesome excerpt. Can't wait to read it. Thanks for the chance.