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A possessive cyborg captures a mutant thief come to steal a priceless Rock; he'll let her have it, if he can have her.for three days and three nights. A Dominant soldier demands repayment for rescuing a high society lawyer from certain death at the jaws of a giant saurian. She's dreamed of a man like him; he's starred in her wickedest fantasies. Now she has to submit.or else. A loyal, traditionalist male desires a Royal fem determined to live by the old, matriarchal ways. He'll claim her; she'll claim him; they'll claim each other. Once they settle the question of who's on top. An Earth yet to come, an Earth that may never be, and a planet far, far away. In Other Worlds, featuring erotic romances from NY Times and USA Today bestselling author MaryJanice Davidson, USA Today bestselling author Angela Knight, and introducing Camille Anthony.
More Reviews and RecommendationsWhen it comes to playful romances featuring vampires, werewolves, and Cyborgs, no one can touch the ultra-prolific MaryJanice Davidson. Her Undead Series is a wildly popular succession of books following Vampire Queen Betsy Taylor and her quest for love… and a great pair of shoes!
More About the AuthorName:
MaryJanice Davidson
Current Home:
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Place of Birth:
Minot, North Dakota
Reading the coyly self-deprecating autobiography on her web site, one gets the distinct impression that MaryJanice Davidson does not have the slightest interest in talking about herself. Perhaps it's because she simply doesn't have the time. Prolific does not begin to describe this chart-busting dynamo, the author of four bestselling series and literally dozens of novellas and short stories.
A writer with a few romances and YA novels to her credit, Davidson had tried for years to interest publishers in her idea for a humorous, tongue-in-cheek vampire romance. After dozens of rejections (and assurances that there was no market for paranormal!), she submitted her manuscript for publication online. An editor at a New York publishing house downloaded the story, was royally entertained, and contacted Davidson to acquire the print rights to Undead and Unwed. On the spot, she was offered a three-book contract.
When Undead and Unwed and its wry sequel, Undead and Unemployed, were released in early 2004, not one, but two stars were born: Davidson and her irresistible protagonist, the reluctant vampire queen Betsy Taylor. A smart, sassy, 27-year-old secretary, Betsy is killed in a freak car accident and wakes up (so to speak) to discover that she is not only a vampire but the much-prophesied Queen of the Undead. Readers loved Davidson's wry take on vampire literature, a genre long distinguished by its gothic self-seriousness. Betsy, with her smarty-pants attitude and passion for designer shoes, is one vampire queen who owes more to Sophie Kinsella than to Anne Rice.
While Davidson has continued to produce more Undead novels, she has also found the time to launch three other romantic fantasy series featuring 1.) a hybrid mermaid named Fred, 2.) an eccentric family of Alaskan royals, and 3.) a cyborg spy. All are infused with her trademark wit and imagination. In addition, she and her husband, Anthony Alongi, have written the Jennifer Scales series, originally marketed to young adults and re-released as fantasy fiction for all ages. Davidson also remains one of the most popular writers of paranormal romantica; her short stories and novellas appear regularly in anthologies.
Davidson is not the only one in her family to achieve fame. Her mother once broke the world record for target shooting.
Before she devoted her time to chronicling the love lives of vampires and werewolves, Davidson was voted Miss Congeniality in her high school.
Even though Davidson is one of the most popular writers of modern monster fiction, in real life she is actually terrified of the undead. In fact, she is currently holding a contest on her web site asking readers to put together a twelve-step program to help her get over her fear of zombies!
As she writes on her website, Davidson lived a transient life as a young girl. Her father's career in the U.S. Air Force led her to live in such disparate locales as Guam, Mississippi, and North Dakota. As she grew older, her life in the working world was just as restless as her childhood. She tried her hand at everything from waitressing to modeling to editing to a stint as a medical test subject (!) before settling on a career as a bestselling novelist. These days, her life may be a bit more settled, but it has hardly slowed down.
A few fun outtakes from our interview with Davidson
"I'm a former model -- worst job ever, honestly."
"I'm a gigantic sushi hog -- it's pretty much my favorite meal."
"The more terrible and groaningly awful a horror movie is, the more I like it."
"Um, I like bubble baths? Seriously. I know that sounds like something a Playboy Bunny would say, but I really do."
"I like taking my kids to new restaurants and encouraging them to try new dishes -- we did "Dim Sum" just the other day."
What was the book that most influenced your life or your career as a writer?
Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. Not only was the heroine genuinely unlikable (I mean, come on, Scarlett was a bitch, no two ways about it), but Mitchell managed to flesh out full personalities for at least fifty characters. Not to mention, it all happened during the Civil War and Reconstruction. Our heroine married multiple times (never for love, mind you) and used up everyone around her. Still, I loved her. I even respected her choices. And I was amazed that someone MADE HER UP. Someone sat down and made her up and gave her all these problems and made me care about a jerk like Scarlett. From then on, I was hooked.
What are your favorite books, and what makes them special to you?
What are some of your favorite films, and what makes them unforgettable to you?
What types of music do you like? Is there any particular kind you like to listen to when you're writing?
All 80's, all the time, baby! One Night In Bangkok is my favorite song. My shuffle is filled with Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, Duran Duran, George Michael... all that good stuff.
What are your favorite kinds of books to give -- and get -- as gifts?
I usually give my own books, autographed. I know, sounds cheesy, but it's what all my friends really want. As far as getting, I'd rather get a gift card from B&N, and pick out my own books. Because I'm really eclectic: one week it's cook books, the next it's true crime, the next it's just magazines, the next it's horror, the next it's graphic novels.
Do you have any special writing rituals? For example, what do you have on your desk when you're writing?
Right now there's a snake my son made for me out of Floam. I work in chaos: papers, contracts, manuscripts all over the place. In fact, I usually work on my laptop in the living room, watching the Nip/Tuck DVD.
Many writers are hardly "overnight success" stories. How long did it take for you to get where you are today? Any rejection-slip horror stories or inspirational anecdotes?
Well, I started writing when I was 13, and I didn't get published until I was 29. I don't have horror stories, it's just a long apprenticeship. What's fun is, now that I've hit the big time, everyone who sent me a rejection slip in the past (Harelquin, Silhouette, Warner, Little Brown, Random House) wants me to write for them. Hee!
What tips or advice do you have for writers still looking to be discovered?
Do not, EVER, ever ever give up. I wrote for over 15 years before I got published, and Berkley didn't knock on my door until I was 33. If I had quit at any point before that, I'd never have been published. If you can hang in there, the rewards are more than worth it, I promise.
A possessive cyborg captures a mutant thief come to steal a priceless Rock; he'll let her have it, if he can have her.for three days and three nights. A Dominant soldier demands repayment for rescuing a high society lawyer from certain death at the jaws of a giant saurian. She's dreamed of a man like him; he's starred in her wickedest fantasies. Now she has to submit.or else. A loyal, traditionalist male desires a Royal fem determined to live by the old, matriarchal ways. He'll claim her; she'll claim him; they'll claim each other. Once they settle the question of who's on top. An Earth yet to come, an Earth that may never be, and a planet far, far away. In Other Worlds, featuring erotic romances from NY Times and USA Today bestselling author MaryJanice Davidson, USA Today bestselling author Angela Knight, and introducing Camille Anthony.
Mitchell turned. Something was wrong. Something had been wrong for the last few minutes, but he'd been unable to figure out what. At last he had it. The sound, so faint only his cybernetic eardrum could pick it up, was someone breathing, quickly and lightly.
All the lights were off, of course--he could see in the dark like a cat--and he'd been standing before his window for hours. Now, it seemed, he had company.
He stole softly across the carpet, slipped through the bedroom door, into the living area, and saw at once the door to the saferoom was open.
He avoided the furniture, the table, the piles of financial papers, and the squeaky spot by the piano. He paused in the doorway and nearly gasped in surprise.
A woman was working on his safe. His safe. Where he kept his money. She was short--barely up to his shoulder--with short hair that looked--er, pastel blue--slim limbs, and--and never mind what she looked like. How the hell had she gotten in? She'd have had to get past security, multiple alarms, and three locked doors.
He could see she was wearing night goggles. He knew from experience they only weighed about sixteen ounces and looked like regular sunglasses, except for the thick lenses. He closed his natural eye to get a better look--and nearly gasped again.
She'd disappeared.
He opened both eyes. She was back, still working on the safe.
He closed his artificial eye. She was still there.
He closed his natural eye, the better to scan her--and she was gone again.
Interesting. She couldn't be seen by artificial means. His cybereye couldn't see her, nor could the security cameras.
A mutant. He'd readabout them but had never met one--not that he knew of.
Fascinating.
Completely, utterly, compellingly fascinating.
It had been only a matter of time, the scientists had warned. Thanks to all the nuclear testing, the earth was clicking hot--much hotter than it had been five hundred or even two hundred years ago. And now and again, according to Scientific World, a mutant popped up.
The dangerous ones--the ones who couldn't think, but who could set fires when they got angry, or crack cement, or drive others mad with a single touch, had been squirreled away. Most of the time, the flip side of a major mutation was cataclysmic retardation. No one knew why, or where the government put the dangerous ones.
The less dangerous ones kept out of sight, and made darned sure not to do anything extraordinary when people were watching. He'd always assumed they weren't terribly bright--but this one certainly was. She'd picked the right night to rob him, after all.
He watched his thief take a big gasp of breath, and then charge the safe door. Not exactly the door--the crack along the side where the door rested on its hinges. She shoved herself against it, grunting softly, eyes squinched shut. And after a long moment, she started to--to slip through. It was like her molecules had stretched out, or something. Suddenly she was a living ghost, slowly wedging herself through the safe, and after a minute, she popped inside.
Mitchell stared where she had been for a long moment. Then he closed his artificial eye--yes, she was really inside the safe.
Amazing. How did she take her clothes and accessories and goggles with her? Was she able to affect their molecular structure because they were items close to her skin?
Amazing. He had a thousand questions for the blue-haired lady, chief of which: is that hair color natural?
No. Ridiculous.
He didn't care. No, he didn't, not really. She could empty the entire contents and he'd still be a zillionaire. He should just go back to his window and drink some more and let her take what she wanted. Let her leave, never to be seen again. Yes, he should do that. After all, he didn't care. About anything.
Jamie chortled with glee when she saw the Rock. It looked exactly like it had in the pictures, except a thousand times better. It was as big as her fist--one of the largest diamonds on the planet. And to think it had come from a meteor! Just fell to earth like a present from God. Well, as far as Miss Jamie Day was concerned, that meant it was anybody's game. Just because construction workers from HuntCorp had found it and brought it to Mr. Hunter didn't mean it was his.
Besides, it was shiny and she wanted it.
She gathered herself for the arduous trip out of the safe. It was tough work, phasing through solid objects. Took a lot out of her--she supposed molecules weren't meant to be stretched out like that. Well, she'd take a vacation after tonight. Rest up. She just had to get out of the safe (and through all the locked doors), and she could nap for a week.
Jamie took a deep breath ... and pushed. And pushed! Cripes, it was like being born. If she was stuck being a mutant, why couldn't she have a power that didn't take it out of her each time?
At last she popped out of the safe and leaned against it, panting. Her nightglasses had slipped, and when she brought up a hand to adjust them, something smacked into the back of her neck, and everything went black.
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