I want to thank Roxanne for having me on her blog today and for another wonderful whirlwind tour! I have had a great time!
So far I have talked about the music I’ve listened to while writing, the places I’ve included in my novels and a few in depth interviews. All have been fun! I racked my brain trying to come up with something new and different only to be given an idea by a friend of mine while complaining about my blog block! She asked me to tell her what topics I’d written about and offered a few suggestions before mentioning food… Eureka! Food! I love food. I mean who doesn’t right? And food is actually mentioned a lot in my writing. Perhaps I’m subconsciously living through my characters!
My family is from Rhode Island, a stone throw from Salem, MA where my series takes place, so I decided to incorporate some of my favorite dishes and places. Two of my absolute favorite things are the linguisa, a Portuguese sausage I wrote about in Witch Hunt. Maurin has it with scrambled eggs and home fries. To this day, still one of my favorite dishes! Of course you can eat linguisa grilled or in Portuguese kale soup… Yum!
Another one of my favorites would have to be the Italian cookies from Tripoli. In Ill Fated the crew takes a road trip to Lawrence, MA while tracking a coven. The coffee shop is fictional but Tripoli Bakery is real and has been a family favorite since I was little. Since my nana, who passed last year, was little. She grew up in Lawrence, back when the neighborhood was mostly Italian immigrants. The bakery still serves the traditional pastries, cakes and cookies that they did when she was growing up. The cookies were even served at my wedding reception.
Another foodie item talked about in all of my books is coffee. Something not unique to authors or their characters, lol! Or even New Englanders for that matter, but man do we love our coffee. Growing up we didn’t have chocolate milk we had coffee milk made with Autocrat coffee syrup. We were practically weaned on coffee. I love everything about it, the way it smells, tastes, everything. It’s not the caffeine. I’m pretty sure I am impervious to it actually. I could and often do drink it all day. So does Maurin. Her favorite is the dirty chai latte or a brown sugar cinnamon latte. I usually just drink it black, lol.
It’s funny how little things from our childhood like food have such a huge impact on our lives even as adults. Maybe it’s the taste or maybe it’s the nostalgia. Either way, food is connected in more ways than just nutrition and pops up in our writing more often than we probably realize.
And with that I think I’ll go get a snack! Maybe I can rustle up a cappuccino and cannoli!
The Maurin Kincaide Series
Genre: Paranormal, Urban Fantasy
Date of Publication: 2/11/15
Number of pages: 271
Cover Artist: Eri Nelson
Some things are destined to end in death. After the first attempt on her life Maurin wasn't scared. Hell, she was almost flattered. But someone put a price on her head and things are getting complicated.
Trouble is brewing in the fae courts and it's spilling over into Salem. The UnSeelie Dark Guard have answered the call for her head on a platter and people closest to her are disappearing.
Can Maurin master court politics and find her missing men before someone claims the bounty on her head?
"You're awake?" He sounded more than a little surprised.
"I'm not really sure the state I'm in qualifies as awake."
"Here I was, terrified to poke the dragon, and you're already drinking coffee and talking in complete sentences."
I snorted and took a sip of the aforementioned liquid gold. "Are you always like this in the morning?"
"If you'd let me sleep over you'd already know the answer to that question. Why aren't you asleep?"
In general or just tonight, I silently wondered. "Bad dream. I've been tossing and turning all night. I finally gave in and got out of bed."
Papers rustled in the background and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, intimate."You want to talk about it?"
"Something tells me my nightmares are the least of our problems."
"You have no idea. I need you to come down to my office."
I sighed. "Can it at least wait until after sunrise?"
"Would I be breaking the no phone calls before noon policy if it could wait?"
“There really is no rest for the wicked, is there?”
He laughed and the sound warmed me more than a hundred cups of coffee. "Apparently not, in your case. Now, there's a dirty chai latte and a croissant for you if you're here before Amalie. I can't promise real coffee and pastries will survive beyond five minutes of her arrival."
"It's four-thirty in the morning, Mas. If you know what's good for you, you'll make sure at least one dirty chai and croissant remain unmolested."
"I'll see you soon." He was laughing as he hung up the phone.
Three hours ago I’d practically crawled through the doorway, exhausted from cleaning up after a newbie vamp who’d broken the Jus Sanguinis Intergentes when she killed her donor. The blood pact between people and vampires had a clear no killing, no exceptions clause.
It was up to the maker to ensure their child was ready to feed unsupervised. If something went wrong and the Council found out about it, we cleaned up the mess and the sire was subject to heavy fines and possible revocation of their rights to expand their blood lines. She’d been quite literally a bitch to track and take down.
It had been a long night and it was shaping up to be an even longer day.
I wasted little time getting dressed, opting for a slip on black jersey dress, eighteen hole Docs and a leather jacket. Jewelry was a hindrance in my line of work. My meeting with Mason could easily turn into a run. Choked with my own chain? No, thank you. Unclasping the necklace, I set it in a glass dish on my bathroom counter. I ran a brush through my hair, a toothbrush over my teeth and slipped into the between. I stepped out of the alley two buildings down from the station and walked the last block and a half.
Amalie was swarmed by detectives trying to get at the goodies she brought over from the Daily Grind. She greeted me with a warm smile, shaking her head when I offered to pull her out of the fray. She had managed to endear herself to the entire department in record time. All it took was real coffee and fresh pastries. I pointed to Mason's office. She'd make her way over once the starving masses had their fill.
Mason was so engrossed in the file on his desk he didn't hear me come in. He looked as tired as I felt - too many double shifts. Despite an uptick in activity, SPTF was short staffed due to budget cuts. Without enough man power to staff the shifts properly overtime was mandatory.
"Is that for me?" I pointed at the to-go cup and white paper bag on his desk.
He finally looked up and gave me a smile which lit up his whole face. "As promised."
I stole a quick kiss, grabbed the coffee and croissant, and settled in the chair across from him. I took a long sip of my latte, savoring the delicious mix of tea and espresso. "Man, I needed this. Is that the case you're working on?"
"Yeah, we've got a real problem on our hands."
"Don't we always." I tried to peak at the file.
Mason closed the manila folder. "I'd rather wait until everyone is here."
"Who else is coming besides Amalie?" My curiosity was definitely peaked now. I reached across his desk, hoping to grab the file.
"You look exhausted. Tell me about your dream while we wait."
I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. "I see this for the obvious distraction it is but you're right.” Sighing, I rubbed my temple.“However, I'm exhausted, too exhausted to argue. So I'll tell you. Prepare to be confounded."
He listened intently as I filled him in on the nightly visits from the weathered old woman who washed my clothes and hauntingly called my name. I expected him to laugh and tell me it was just a dream, that I had nothing to worry about.
I didn't expect him to look so stricken.
"Bean Nighe." He all but whispered the name.
"You've heard of her?"
"Of course I've heard of her. How long has she been coming to you?"
I stared at him curiously. "A few weeks. Why?"
"A few weeks and this is the first I'm hearing of it?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, obviously struggling to control his temper.“We talked about this. No holding things back, remember?"
"I thought it was just a dream.” I shrugged.“Honestly, I didn't think it was a big deal."
"It was a big enough deal for you to research it." Agitation rolled off him in waves.
When I agreed to give this thing with Mason a chance I also agreed to some conditions. No more flying solo, no more rash decisions or rushing off to play the hero. We were a team, in everything. This was just one of many set-backs.
"I got curious, did a little digging. Until tonight, everything I found pointed to deep seated family issues, particularly with a mother figure. I've told you about my childhood, does that dream analysis surprise you?"
His growl told me he wasn’t in the mood for reasonable—at least to me—explanations. "When did you discover the true meaning of the dream? How long have you known about the Bean Nighe?"
"Tonight. This morning. Before you called me." I held up a hand to stop the tongue lashing I knew he wanted to give me. "I would have told you. I got the impression on the phone there were more pressing matters than my insomnia."
"Is this why you won't let me stay at your place?” His gaze roamed over my face, searching.“Why you never stay at mine?"
"Is that the real reason why you're so upset?" I arched my brows. “Because we’re not having sleepovers?”
"I stayed at your lovely apartment the first night we met."
I turned to watch Aidan glide into the room, stopping behind my chair. Rolling my eyes, I snorted and muttered, “In the closet.”
Mason's jaw twitched but he didn't take the bait. "Aidan."
"It's almost sunrise. Shouldn't you be hunkered down for the day?" I sighed, wondering what he was doing here. I was too tired to deal with Aidan and Mason and their combined testoserone.
Putting the three of us in a room together was like throwing lit matches at sticks of dynamite - eventually one of them will explode.
About the Author:
Rachel Rawlings was born and raised in the Baltimore Metropolitan area. Her family, originally from Rhode Island, spent summers in New England sparking her fascination with Salem, MA. She has been writing fictional stories and poems since middle school, but it wasn't until 2009 that she found the inspiration to create her heroine Maurin Kincaide and complete her first full length novel, The Morrigna.
When she isn't writing, Rachel can often be found with her nose buried in a good book. An avid reader of Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, Horror and Steampunk herself, Rachel founded Hallowread- an interactive convention for both authors and fans of those genres.
More information on Hallowread, its schedule of events and participating authors can be found at www.hallowread.blogspot.com and www.facebook.com/Hallowread .
She still lives in Maryland with her husband and three children.