Today it’s my pleasure to welcome over Genevieve Jack, author of Vice, Book One in Fireborn Wolves.
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Carpe Luna Publishing
Date of Publication: 9/13/2016
Word Count: 65000
Cover Artist: Steven Novak
Some cravings can’t be denied.
Werewolf Laina Flynn longs to break from the patriarchal expectations of Fireborn pack. A successful entrepreneur, she doesn’t have time to be bossed around by her alpha brother, Silas, let alone to act as a proper werewolf princess.
But when a wolf is found murdered on Fireborn shifting grounds, Laina will do anything to protect her pack, even if it means posing as a waitress at a club that flies in the face of her feminist ideals. Unfortunately, her inner wolf marks the club’s owner, Kyle “The King” Kingsley, as her vice—her metaphysical addiction. He becomes a hunger she can’t ignore…one that could threaten her life, her family, and her pack.
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What inspired you to write this book?
I was thinking about where we are as a society in terms of the role of women. We have, in some ways, the most opportunities in the history of my gender. But yet there are still businesses that profit on the simple physical allure of women to men, who exploit that allure. So, love is complicated by shifting gender roles, shifting priorities for the people involved, and this fascinated me.
Vice is all about the dichotomy between being a strong, independent woman and the deep, almost animal need we have to enter into relationship with the opposite sex, a relationship that often leaves us vulnerable. As an author, I like to explore the human condition, our idealistic worldviews and how they clash with reality, and the attitudes that make us who we are. That’s what inspired Vice.
How did you come up with the title?
In my supernatural world, when a werewolf’s inner beast attaches to something in the human realm, becomes addicted to it, it’s called a vice. This book deals with Laina’s vice.
If you could spend an hour in real life with one of your characters, who would it be and why?
I feel like I do spend time with my characters. We talk. We have tea. But if one could materialize next to me, I think I’d enjoy some time with Laina. She’s intelligent, talented and a loyal friend.
Tell us a little bit about the conflict in your story.
Vice is about a strong, independent woman, Laina Flynn, who also happens to be a werewolf princess. Werewolf society is a patriarchy, so Laina’s brother, Silas, has power over her as the alpha of the Fireborn pack. Although she is a DVM and owns her own veterinary hospital, her veins fill with acid every time she attempts to disobey her brother. Her deepest desire is to be her own alpha, free to make her own decisions.
But when an enemy of the Fireborn pack murders a wolf on Fireborn shifting grounds, Laina chooses to go into hiding to help protect her pack. Unfortunately, Kyle Kingsley, a former client, recognizes her and requires her to work for him in exchange for keeping her secret. Kyle owns Hunt Club, a place that flies in the face of Laina’s feminist ideals. But her self-righteousness doesn’t stand a chance when her inner wolf responds to Kyle as if he carries the moon in his pants. Turns out he’s her vice, her metaphysical addiction. Giving into her desires means vulnerability for herself, her family, and her pack. But she just can’t help herself.
Are you currently working on another story? If so, we’d love some details.
I’m currently writing Virtue, Fireborn Wolves Book 2. Virtue tells the story of Jason Flynn, Laina’s brother, who is struggling to break his vice in an effort to protect his pack. His addiction to sex is strong, however, and it’s going to take the help of the goddess in the form of a pack acolyte named Selena to help him find the virtue within.
Did you enjoy writing one scene above all the rest? If so, share.
There’s a scene near the beginning of the book when Laina arrives at her animal hospital and finds that the murderer has already been there. Her bare feet stick to the blood on the floor, her assistant is incapacitated, the front desk has been wrecked, and there is a dark surprise waiting for her on her operating table. While I loved all of the romantic parts of this book, for some reason I particularly loved writing that scene. Maybe because I’m a total wuss and would never have been brave enough to do what Laina does.
How long have you been writing? How long have you been published?
I’ve been writing and publishing full-length novels full time since 2012 under two aliases. Before that, I was first an accountant and then a nurse who wrote and published the occasional short story and read like the library was on fire. After five books, I recently took some time off to spend with a family member suffering from a long-term illness. I’m happy to report a full recovery means I’m back in full-time author mode with several titles in the works for Genevieve Jack fans.
By the time she’d finished her first round and returned to the kitchen to replenish her tray, she’d forgotten there wasn’t a thing between her and the night besides a thin stretch of latex. With so many beautiful women serving Hunt Club, maybe she blended in with the scenery, no different than a beautiful blooming plant or a piece of artwork. She picked up another tray and melded back into the crowd, thinking the evening might be easier than she expected. In a few short hours, she’d discreetly drop the fairy box in the kitchen on her way out and put the entire experience behind her.
As the night wore on, she forayed deeper into the crowd, taking an interest in the variety of males drawn to such a place. There was a bachelor party, a job interview, and a politician and his protégé. The bits and pieces of conversation that flitted past her ears kept the work from becoming boring.
She was on her fourth tray when she found herself at the farthest corner of the room, slightly cut off from the crowd, in an area thick with flowers and trees.
“Over here.” A burly man in a brown suit called to her from deep within the burrow of vegetation. The bear mask he wore was designed to look grumpy but the man’s tone made her believe it was a reasonable reflection of his human countenance.
“Canapé?” She lowered her tray from her shoulder so he could take a better look.
“How long have you been working here?” he asked, as he perused the selection.
“Not long.” A meaty hand cupped her ass, making her jump. She tried to step away from him but he gripped her butt cheek harder and grabbed her tray with his other hand.
“Five hundred. Come upstairs with me.”
“No. I’m not for sale.” She squirmed against his grip. Although she was capable of tearing his arm off, she tempered her reaction, afraid she might drop the tray or fall off her stilettos. The damn shoes were the problem. As strong as she was, they set her off-balance.
Playing tug-of-war with her tray, the bear didn’t take no for an answer. “You could be making ten times what you’re making now. I’m good, honey. You’ll enjoy me as much as the cash.” While she was concentrating on extracting her tray from his grip without the canapés ending up on the floor, his hand moved from her ass, over her hip, and, to her great surprise, directly between her legs.
The wolf inside boiled to the surface. Dropping the tray on the table, she grabbed the wrist of the hand between her thighs and squeezed. “Keep your hands to yourself.” She felt his bones compress within her grip. A little harder and he’d need a cast. A lot harder and she’d crush the carpal bones, an injury requiring surgery. She hoped she could restrain herself.
“Fuck. Let me go, bitch.”
She squeezed harder.
“Aah!” His free hand balled into a fist and connected with the side of her face, all his body weight behind it. A blast of pain radiated through her jaw and into her skull. The blow knocked her off her feet and she fell hard, her hip slapping the floor. She recovered quickly, intending to return the blow. But before she could wrestle the damn stilettos back under her, Nate and a man in a lion mask appeared above her.
“That’s enough, Bradley,” the lion said. “You’re out of here.”
Nate grabbed the man by the elbow and steered him toward an exit.
“I have a right to be here,” the bear shouted. “I paid my dues. Are you going to lose a premium member over a fucking waitress?”
“No, over you being a fucking asshole,” the lion said under his breath. Nate had the bear through the door before the man could call any more attention to the situation. The few people who had noticed the skirmish returned to their conversations.
“Are you all right?” the lion asked, holding out a hand to help Laina up.
She rubbed her jaw. “I think so. Thank you. Usually, I can handle guys like that, but he caught me off guard.”
“Even if you can, you shouldn’t have to. You’re serving, not being served.”
“Right. Not on the menu.”
“Do you mind if I…” Still holding her hand from when he helped her up, he reached out with his opposite knuckle to brush her cheek, warm and gentle, a touch that at any other time she might appreciate. But the punch had hurt more than she’d expected; she jerked away in pain.
“I’m sorry.” The lion winced. “He tore your makeup. I thought I could fix it.”
“I’ll find Wesley,” she said.
“He left for the night. Do you need to see a doctor?” The band began another number, and he stepped in closer as he spoke.
“No. I’m fine.” She met his eyes and her inner wolf stirred from her slumber. Through the eyeholes of the mask, she made out hazel eyes, the color of ripe wheat. She traced the heavy bones of the jaw that protruded from beneath the mask and the tightly controlled lips that seemed to war between wanting to smile at her and his obvious concern for her well-being.
“Do you work here?” she asked bringing her lips to his ear. She inhaled deeply. Human, a spicy cologne, and the slightest hint of deep forest. Her eyes widened. It couldn’t be.
He stroked his thumb along hers. “Something like that.” Focused on her lips, he licked his own. His gaze flicked to her breasts. The latex around her nipples had puckered from her body’s response to him. Embarrassed, she turned toward the table to gather her tray.
What was different about this man than any other? She’d served over a hundred men that night, of all different heights, weights, and colors, but none had warranted the slightest bit of interest from her or her wolf. He was slightly taller than she was and big, with hard muscles that seemed intractable beneath his shirt and suit jacket, but nothing about his size or physique was alarmingly different. Only her response was exceptional. Her inner wolf was bent over with her tail in the air, begging to be mounted. And although Laina still had control of her body and mind despite the coming moon, the wetness between her legs was instinctual, primal, and completely beyond her control.
“I should get back to work,” she said, her back to him. “Maybe I can find someone to touch up my face.”
“You’re absolutely stunning,” he said. “What’s your name?” He stepped toward her again, so that the front of his suit just barely grazed her back, his face inches from her shoulder. Her wolf begged her to turn, to plant her lips on his and hitch her leg over his hip. An image of herself arched over the cocktail table with his mouth between her legs filled her mind.
Biting her lip hard, she snapped herself out of it. “I have to go.”
About the Author
Genevieve Jack is a registered nurse turned author of weird, witty, and wicked-hot paranormal romance. Coffee and wine are her biofuel: the love lives of vampires, shifters, and witches her favorite topic of conversation. She harbors a passion for old cemeteries and ghost tours thanks to her years at a high school rumored to be haunted. Although she calls the Midwest home, her heart belongs to the beaches of the southeast, where she spends her days with her laptop and one lazy dog.