Selena: Magical Sex is an intriguing title, how did you come up with it?
Beverly: Funny you should ask. One night my hubby and I were watching television and someone on the show mentioned how “last night’s sex was simply magical”. I started thinking how some people say “our sex is magical”. What if it really was? Then, as usual, my thoughts went wild and my new Magical Sisters trilogy was born.
Selena: Any interesting tidbits you’d like to share when researching your book?
Beverly: I write paranormals which means I don’t really do much “research” like, say, historical writers do. I do have a lot of fun learning about different supernatural events and creatures. However, I believe a writer doesn’t have to follow the accepted rules of the supernatural. For instance, in Magical Sex, my succubus heroine isn’t an evil female demon out to suck men dry. Instead, she’s a very likable young woman who has a rather unique problem to overcome.
Selena: What kind of person do you think you were in a past life?
Beverly: Ooh, good question! Well, if you follow the idea that what you do in one life determines the kind of life you’ll have in the next, then I must’ve been a good person because my life is wonderful. I just hope I’m doing enough well in this life to make the following life even better!
Selena: What’s our favorite pizza topping?
I’m not big on pizza. I know, weird, huh? But when I do eat pizza I like to request as little sauce as possible (I’d prefer no sauce at all, but then people won’t share with me), hamburger and American cheese. Basically, a cheeseburger pizza. That’s my favorite…until they come up with a chocolate pizza.
Selena: Being Italian I had to shudder when you first said you’re not big on pizza. LOL! However, you did redeem yourself with the suggestion of a chocolate pizza. Actually, there is a chocolate pizza recipe, which I’ll have to post in my recipe page some time soon.
On to the next question: What do you do to celebrate a publishing contract, or writing THE END, or a great review?
Beverly: Oh, I’m so boring! I really don’t celebrate in any way. Other than taking a couple of days off to clear old characters out of my head to make way for the new characters.
He can give her satisfaction he can survive her kiss.
Allie Tristan’s older sisters get to have sex. She’s not allowed-not until she learns to control the ravenous appetite of her emerging succubus powers. Till then, she’s resigned to her sisters watching her every move, poised to intervene before her kiss drains a man of his life force. There’s something about local bar owner Tom Halloran, though, that tempts her to sneak away to have another taste of their deliciously electric connection. Love and marriage are not in Tom’s plans. Occasional hot sex with a willing partner, when his busy life allows it? Definitely on the menu. Yet Allie nails him to the wall with her smokin’ hot body, innocent blue eyes.and drugging kisses that leave him more than just weak in the knees. For the first time in his life, he pictures a woman in his life long-term, not just for one night. Along with hunger for raw sex, fear claws at Allie’s soul. Giving in to her raging need will kill him. Which leaves her only one choice: risk everything to keep their love alive-or die trying.
MAGICAL SEX (Magical Sisters, Bk 1) – EXCERPT
“Meg, you really shouldn’t flaunt your escapades in front of Allie. You know how vulnerable she is right now. Her succubus instincts are coming to the forefront. A little early perhaps…”
“Early? Are you kidding me? I’m way past my time.” Or at least Allie thought so. None of them had a clue at what age a succubus came into her powers. Still, she was an adult by all other standards so why not by succubus standards? “I’m more than ready, and you know it.”
Hilly shot her another exasperated look, then returned to her conversation with Meg. “Which means we can’t ignore the problem any longer. She needs to feed, and soon.”
“I know. But what can we do? Turn her loose? In a small town like Cottageville, the loss of a single man would get noticed.” Meg stood up, stretching her back. “Damn. I wish these local yokels would get over her. No offense, Allie.”
“None taken, dear sister,” she said in a singsong voice while plastering on a phony smile that she knew Meg would recognize as fake.
Meg did, but chose to ignore it. “You’d think showing up here every morning would cause a ruckus with their women. And yet they still come.”
“That’s because the women are almost as attracted to her as the men.” Hilly stood aside to let Meg dump the pieces of broken mugs into a trashcan, then ran the broom over the floor again. “It’s time we come up with a plan before the worst happens.” Hilly’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.
A lump formed in Allie’s throat. They often attempted to make light of her situation, focusing only on the sexual element, but they all knew what lay ahead if she didn’t find a way to feed. And if she didn’t feed soon, she’d grow weaker every day until, at last, she’d shrivel away to bones and skin.
Ever the strong one, Hilly pulled herself to her full, albeit diminutive, stature. “We’re going to have a family meeting tonight. Think you can stay home for one night, Meg? Or will the men at the bars send out a search party?”
Allie matched Hilly’s weak smile, trying to equal her sister’s brave front.
“Yeah, I think I can manage it.” Meg took the broom and headed toward the back, but Allie snatched both tools away from her.
“I’ll take them.” She scurried toward the back, pausing at the entrance before turning around to make sure her sisters hadn’t caught on. Quietly putting the broom and dustpan on the floor, she rushed toward the men’s restroom.
“Guess I’d better take care of Steve. I used a new love spell on him and didn’t realize that it would last this long.”
“Not so fast.” Hilly glanced at Meg, then ran a rag over the counter even though the counter really didn’t need cleaning. But at least it was something to keep her hands busy. “Let’s talk about Allie and her problem.”
“I hate that you refer to it as a problem. It’s who and what she is. Don’t make it sound like she’s some kind of freak.”
Hilly wasn’t about to go down that road again. Her sister was just stalling the discussion and the difficult decision they’d have to make. But they’d have to do something soon to either help Allie before her succubus hormones took over and she went off on her own, or the inevitable happened. Hilly shook her head and set her jaw. No way would she lose Allie.
“Why don’t we just let her do what comes naturally?”
“You know as well as I do that an undisciplined succubus is a dangerous thing. Half the time I’m not sure even Allie realizes how much harm she could do.” She sighed. “If only Mother had lived. She would’ve known how to help Allie.” Not for the first time, a pang of anger zipped through Hilly, but she shook it off as she always did. Being angry at her parents for dying and leaving her to raise her sisters was both unfair and unproductive.
“Well she didn’t, so there’s nothing to gain by wishing the past away. It’s just too bad that Mother was the only other succubus in the family. At least, the only one we know of.”
“Now who’s wishing the past away?” Hilly caught a movement across the street and turned to watch a familiar homeless man sort through his worn-out duffle bag. Woolly Wilbur—a name he’d earned because of his determination to hang on to a ratty fur coat—was the town’s one and only vagrant. Not that the good folks of Cottageville hadn’t tried to help him live a normal life, but he seemed to enjoy life on the streets. And he had it better than most in his situation since the town’s merchants gave him free food, clothes and shelter whenever he’d take them.
“I understand we’re not the best people to guide her into becoming a responsible succubus, Meg. But that doesn’t mean she can’t learn to live by a few rules. Most of her kind do, you know. Or so I’ve heard.”
“Yeah and I agree. But if it comes down to either losing her or letting her do what she has to do—whoever she hurts—then guess which option I’ll choose.”
Hilly wanted to argue the point, yet she knew if push came to shove, she agreed with Meg. Allie’s survival would come first. “I have to believe that we’ll find a solution. One where no one gets hurt.”
“I hope so. But listen, Hilly, let’s sort through this tonight, okay? I need to take care of Steve.”
Hilly waved off her sister, dismissing her as her mind returned to the town’s vagrant. She studied him again and murmured, “He’s the town stray cat. I wonder if anyone would miss him.”
“What’d ya say?” Meg called out, even though she was already halfway to the restroom.
“Never mind.” Hmm. Stray cats. I bet even a little town like this probably has a lot of other stray cats. Ones we never see. Ones no one ever notices. The inkling of an idea was about to grow into a substantial thought when Meg’s shout shoved it away.
“Hilly! Get in here. Hurry!”
Hilly dropped the rag and dashed toward the men’s room. She rounded the corner, hung on to the wall and slid into the open doorway. But the restroom was empty. “Where are you?” she called.
“In the storage room. Hurry!”
Hilly took off running again. Pushing the door wide, she almost fell over her own feet in an effort to stop.
“Oh, my word.” She glanced at Meg who, fists on her hips, jerked her head toward Allie and Steve. “Oh, my word.”
* * * *
Psychic matchmaker Cally gives everyone their happy ending. But can she ever have one herself?
When Sloan Janson’s best friend makes a sudden marriage after being “matched” by Cally, Sloan is convinced his friend is the victim of a con. He storms into Cally’s smallTexastown, determined to expose her as a fraud. The minute he meets her, he still wants to expose her, but now in a totally different sense!
Years of matching soul mates, however satisfying, hasn’t prepared Cally for the electrical effect Sloan has on her. She’s tempted, and terrified—she’s always known matchmakers can’t have love without blowing the fuse on their gift.
Her worst fears come true when her ability to match deserts her. If she cuts Sloan out of her life, she’s sure it will return. But is that a choice she can bear to make—or to live with?
UNTIL NEXT TIME . . . . .