I NEED A HERO!
Whether it’s a tatted up biker, a devilish shifter, or a demanding billionaire, readers love bad boys. But why? Is it that maternal instinct that drives women to chase after the dangerous ones?
My first introduction into the paranormal world was Anne Rice’s classic, An Interview With A Vampire. From then on, I was hooked. I devoured every romantic vampire out there, then moved into the shifters. Sherrilyn Kenyon, Christine Feehan, Chelsea Quinn Yarbro, Jeannine Frost. You name it; it’s on my shelf. But when I sat down to pen my first novel, I was shocked to find myself writing heroes. Still in the paranormal world to be sure, but good guys.
My heart was drawn toward the notion of a strong man fighting on the side of the right. People doing the right thing for the right reason, and helping others to find their path to peace and happiness. And of course, having them as drop dead gorgeous specimens of pure alpha male power didn’t hurt.
To create my first Guardian Warriors, Malakai, I stood on a very high bridge in my home town of San Diego and looked over the edge. Things had not been going too good and I was wondering what was on the other side of this life. I glanced over for only a second when he appeared in my head, along with the rest of his world. Needless to say, I spent the next two years discovering this strong and chivalrous man who truly did save my life. Since then, I am eternally grateful for the heroes that continue to speak to me in both whispers and screams.
Malakai hit the shelves in Spirit Fall in 2014, followed by Galen in Spirit Bound in 2015. In 2016, my most recent Guardian joined the ranks. Personally, Bastian was such a joy to write. He is my grumpy protector. I wondered what would happen if what society deemed as a “bad guy” was forced to fight for the side of right. Would he rebel? Would he do his duty? What would any of us do?
As a taste of my latest book, Spirit Song, here is a blurb plus a short excerpt.
Danger has always swirled around reluctant Guardian Warrior Sebastian Lambert. Trained as an assassin and recruited out of desperation, he now battles the evils of power hungry Rogue Warriors in Chicago. When his friend and fellow Guardian Viktor Arnhart drags him into Franchiolli’s, he would have never imagined to find an angel at the mic.
Miranda Devalande had long since given up on her dreams of a happy life. Forced to sing at notorious mob boss Slick Sal’s seedy southside lounge to cover her brother’s rising gambling debts, she survives from day to day as a caged bird. Things shake up when she is caught by an intoxicating pair of whiskey eyes.
As dark forces threaten to destroy them, can they trust and take a chance on forever?
“Boss says he wants to see you now.”
Miranda’s heart began to pound as she frantically searched for a way out. “I’ve had a long night. I’m tired and I want to go home.”
Salvation came in the form of a deep and growling voice that flowed over her shoulders and a forceful physical presence at her back. “I believe you have your answer, signore...I think it would be best if you got back into your car and told your boss that you were unable to catch her before she went home for the night.”
She fully expected a brawl to break out around her. However, what she did see was a thousand times more frightening. Sal’s lackey let go of her arm and turned away, heading toward the black Mercedes on the curb. Her jaw hung agape as the man simply drove away. Just like that.
This time, curiosity outweighed her sense of self-preservation. She had to see what kind of man could order around the meatheads that served as muscle for Francciolli. She spun around, eager to get a better look at her timely shadow.
The fierce scowl aimed at the receding lights softened as he shifted his whiskey eyes to meet hers. His face was cut straight from some ancient battlefield. A strong, square jaw dusted with the day’s stubble supported defined cheekbones chiseled out of the most intriguing shade of sun-kissed marble. A faded scar ringing his throat peeked from under the collar of his expensive-looking black sweater, further cementing her opinion of his true nature. Another jagged pale line trailed from the center of his left eyebrow to terminate somewhere in the thick hair.
“Are you all right?” His voice rumbled low, gravelly and intoxicating.
His amber eyes remained passively attentive as her gaze roamed across his face. Her head bobbed slowly as his words wove their way into her ears between the rapid beats of her heart. He was alpha male all the way, a predator who had seen the deadlier side of life and come out on the winning side. She wondered how many bodies he had crawled over to stand so casually before her on this cold night, one hand tucked into the front pocket of his black slacks.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized she didn’t care.
Tessa McFionn is a very native Californian and has called Southern California home for most of her life, growing up in San Diego and attending college in Northern California and Orange County, only to return to San Diego to work as a teacher. Insatiably curious and imaginative, she loves to learn and discover, making her wicked knowledge of trivial facts an unwelcomed guest at many Trivial Pursuit boards. She also feeds her artistic soul through her passions for theatre, dance and music, as well as the regular trip to The Happiest Place on Earth with friends and family. She is currently the treasurer of the San Diego chapter of Romance Writers of America.