Please welcome author Dakota Banks
Thanks for this great opportunity to visit Bitten by Paranormal Romance! It’s a pleasure to be here.
In case you haven’t met me yet, I’m the woman whose butt you see on the cover of the Mortal Path books. Right now, I’d like to get it out there that I do not fight in those high heels. The cover artist is a chauvinist pig and I have told him so. On the next cover, it’s the same thing. I’d like to get a chance to dress him up, believe me. The corset isn’t my favorite way to appear either. Looks like I’m wearing some kind of S&M outfit. Now that we’re past that, a more formal introduction: I’m a former assassin for a Sumerian demon, now a rogue working to get my soul back from the pompous creature who took advantage of me when I was merely on fire. If I had it to do over again ... That was in 1692. A lady never tells her age, but that makes me, uh, really old. Oh, what the heck. I’m 340 years old. You have a problem with that?
I was kind of nasty for a good part of those years, killing people whenever the demon sent me an assignment. It wasn’t personal, though. Nothing was personal to me during those days. I’m a much nicer person now, and I assure you I’m safe to be around, at least for the length of this conversation.
Let’s talk about ... love.
Aha, you say, this is a woman who must have lots of stories to tell. The truth is I’m not very experienced with love. If you mean sex, that’s different. While I was an immortal demon’s assassin, I had sex with any man I was attracted to—notice it was me doing the choosing. Men from all stations of life, from the local blacksmith to princes and sheiks. If things got serious, I either dumped the man or left town, whichever seemed the most expedient. I didn’t hesitate to let men show their appreciation with wonderful gifts, either. But all of that wasn’t love. It was just a shallow life.
When I was twenty years old, I was married to what I assumed would be the only man in my life, the man I loved and planned to bear children with. That was before I got toasted over an open fire for being a witch. I was not a witch; it was all lies. When my demon pulled me from the flames and sent me back immortal, I wasn’t the same sweet wife anymore. That’s when I built a wall in my heart: humans are just targets for assassinations, love is meaningless. You can’t blame me. I had the perfect excuse. I didn’t have a soul anymore. It was hundreds of years before cracks started to appear in that wall. I started to question why my targets had to die. For the most part, they weren’t evil. I started to see things from their points of view. How their families would miss them, how the world would be worse off without them, which was the demon’s plan. The cracks widened and I eventually told the demon to shove it, expecting to die some horrible death right then. Instead, I found that there was a way out that the chief Sumerian god had insisted be included in all the demons’ contracts: the Mortal Path. It was a nearly impossible quest, but it gave me hope. No other rogue had ever successfully reclaimed his or her soul on the quest, but I vowed that I would be the first.
And now we’re back to love. Isn’t it always that way?
I had to relearn how to have close friends instead of disposable ones. Most of all, I had to put the love back in sex. Alone for so long, betrayed by my husband at the age of twenty, I didn’t trust men much. As friends, yes. Taking one special man into my heart, no. Maybe I thought I’d be betrayed again, as my husband had turned his back on me during the witch trial. Trust was such a leap of faith. I finally met a man (on a blind date, of all things) who began to take down the last wall around my heart, brick by brick. His name is Jake Stackwell, and he’s a federal agent. This is one of our encounters that shows I’m really getting the hang of this love thing.
Maliha dialed Jake’s work phone number and he answered immediately.
“I missed you,” he said. “Did you like the flowers?”
“Yes, they were great. I’d like to get together as soon as we can, Jake, away from your office.”
“Whoa, woman, you must have really missed me. How about this evening?”
“What about in an hour at your apartment?”
“See you then.”
She took a cab to McKinley Park and walked a couple of blocks. He lived on the second floor of a building with four apartments. She’d arrived early, so she kept walking past his building. Watching his arrival from half a block away, she noted nothing unusual about it or about him. He looked as handsome as ever, lean, broad-shouldered, curly black hair falling over his forehead. She gave him a few minutes, and then buzzed his doorbell. He told her to come up.
When he opened the door, his blue eyes caught and held hers. She saw only love and desire in them. Jake had changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, and there was a fire going that looked inviting. He swept her into his arms and kissed her, then nuzzled her neck.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “I can’t get enough of you.”
She pushed him back, smiling. “Are we going to do this in the hall, or do I get to come in and take off my coat?”
“Of course. Please come in.” He stood aside and waved her in with a bow.
His place was decorated with antiques mixed with modern furniture. The antiques blended right in and had a comfortable, worn look to them—they hadn't been refinished, and they were meant to be used. No velvet ropes to keep them on display.
Jake settled her on the couch and brought out a package of Oreo Double Stuffs and two glasses of milk.
"You remembered,” she said.
"Yeah." He gave her a big smile that warmed her and released a smile of her own. "After you said they were your favorites, I started keeping a package in case you came over. Of course, I couldn't have them get stale, so I started eating them." He patted his hard abdomen. "Gotta watch my waistline, so I stopped. These might be stale."
They weren't. She ate two, twisting their tops off and licking the icing from the middle.
"Okay, I've had my comfort food and I'm a pliable ball of emotions."
"You're never a pliable anything.”
Maliha again. Something rather incredible happens right after this, but for now that’s my secret. I’m curious, what’s more important to you in a paranormal romance, the love or the sex? Or does it take both for you to appreciate the book?
The giveaway is a Mortal Path Swag Bag, consisting of a tote bag, 3 signed books, pens, bookmarks, magnets, and a calculator. One of the photos shows the whole deal. Open internationally.
To enter please .
answer the question in above paragraph and dont forget to add your email
To enter please .
answer the question in above paragraph and dont forget to add your email
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