Please Welcome: Daryl Devore
Blurb: What’s a woman to do when a voice follows her home and makes mad, passionate love to her?
Corporate business woman, Capricious Gray, is dragged to a sex toy convention by her best friend. Once a shocking, mysterious disembodied voice helps her with her purchases, it follows her home. Passion ensues, leaving Capri torn between lust for her fantasy lover and the desperate need for reality in her life.
Thall, son of one of the Fates, harbors the irrepressible need to be with the woman he’s desired from afar for years. In order to make her his, once and for all, he must help Capri get past her fears, including the fear of what he represents – a fantasy.
Can fantasy become a reality for these two lovers?
Good morning Daryl, so glad you made some time to swing by. So, let’s start this right off. You have a new release. What’s it called?
Daryl: Capri’s Fate
What’s it about?
Daryl: Capri goes to a sex toy convention and here’s a mysterious voice. The voice follows her home and the fun begins. By the end of the book, Capri has ended up in Indonesia, met a dragon, got swept away by a tsunami and was charged with corporate espionage.
How did you come up with the idea?
Daryl: Oh I don’t come up with the ideas. My character’s do.
What makes a perfect read for you?
Daryl: A British murder mystery. One full of right proper dialogue and wonderful descriptions and fleshed-out characters.
Favorite or most wished place to write?
Daryl: In a hammock, stretched out between to palm trees on a secluded beach, next to the ocean with fresh sea breeze blowing and hot cabana boys bringing me cold Diet cokes and dark chocolates.
What’s the one word you use that makes you blush when using? Any? Some authors have a word or giggle phrase that causes them to ponder using.
Daryl: I think I’m over it. I’ve named every genital I know of. But if you truly want a giggle word – testicle. It’s tickles the mouth when you say it.
Is it in the book?
Daryl: Hmmm – don’t think so. I’d have to do a word search to find out. Yes it is! Twice.
Anything you want to tell us about the book?
Daryl: Capri is unique. Editor said – don’t do it. I did it anyway. If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, hey I tried. Sometimes you gotta get out of the box and try something.
Okay-Speed Round, old school style. Just for shits and giggles.
Daryl-Don’t even know his name. Grade 13 student when I was in grade 9. I knew where is locker was, but not his name. (High school in Ontario used to go from gr 9 to 13. We don’t use names like Freshman, Sophmore.)
Biggest blooper to date?(C’mon, we all had one)
Daryl-Ask me that in a year and I’ll tell you cause it’s a really good one.
Daryl-Not really a crush, but at the moment kinda liking any movie Daniel Craig is in.
True Blood or Vampire Diaries?
Daryl- Neither – my favourite vampire is Angel
Angels or Demons?
Daryl-in true Canadian fence-sitting style – both!
Alright–now that we’ve had a peek inside the mind of Daryl, how about a peek inside Capri’s Fate.
Excerpt –Needing a cup of coffee to slap awake my drowsy brain cells, I hopped off the bed and padded toward the bedroom door. As I reached for the doorknob, I paused and turned my head. My most formal—meaning stupidly expensive designed by a top New York fashionista—evening gown was resting on the chair in the corner. I purchased it the previous year to wear to the Governor’s Ball and haven’t worn it since.
As I lifted it off the chair, to hang it back in my closet, a folded paper fluttered down. I caught it, unfolded it and read—Thall requests the honor of your presence at dinner. R.S.V.P.
I tossed the paper onto my dresser. “Sorry, can’t do dinner. I have work to do. I didn’t work my ass off in college then fight my way up the corporate ladder to lose my job because of a voice.” I grabbed the doorknob, twisted and pulled. The door didn’t budge. “Stupid door.” I tried again. “Did you lock me in my room?”
There was no reply. I kicked the door. Remember I said I needed coffee to wake up sleeping brain cells? Well, the cells that were asleep were obviously the ones that would have said kicking the door was a dumb thing to do.
Hobbling back to my bed, I sat on the edge and checked for broken toes. The paper floated across the room and landed beside me. I picked it up and waved it randomly about in the air. “So this really isn’t a cute invite, but more of a decree. You know, By Royal Command.“
“Is that a yes?” His voice swirled around me like a gust of a hot summer breeze.
“Guess it has to be if I want coffee.”
The paper poofed into oblivion and a steaming cup of java settled onto my night table. “Skim milk?”
“Hint of cinnamon?”
“Okay, you win.” I picked up the mug and sipped brewed Columbian heaven.
After dressing, putting on my makeup and weaving my hair in a quick French braid, I walked through my kitchen and into my dining room. Except…it wasn’t my dining room.
I paused. As far as I could tell, in the past twenty-four hours, I had spoken with an invisible voice that says it is one of the Fates, purchased a bunch of sex toys, which I would never, ever do. What would mother say! And had somehow flown to a tropical isle where I had the most luxurious massage in a hut on a beach, and then had the most incredible sexual experience ever in the whole length of recorded human existence. And still, here I was a bit surprised to find my dining room had been replaced with a sultan’s tent.
Really? How cliché can you get?
Two flutes of champagne filled with sparkling bubbly rested on what used to be my dining room table. Now, it was a banquet table with a centerpiece that must have emptied the local florist shop. At this end of the table, on a snow white tablecloth rested gleaming gold dishes and sparkling crystal wine goblets. Four forks rested beside each plate. Four? I can figure out two, salad and dinner. Only two chairs were present. Guess we weren’t having company.
Mounds of bright pillows lay scattered about in little sitting nooks. The ceiling was covered in brilliant hues of Iris purple, Orchid blue, Rose red and Tulip yellow silk swathes, stretching from the center out to the wall then draping to the floor.
The room was softly lit, casting a romantic atmosphere. A bit creepy as there was no source of the light. No candles. No lamps. Just light that increased or faded as I wandered about.
A breeze tickled the back of my neck. I turned.
He appeared. He didn’t enter. He just appeared dressed in a black tux. Tall, with smiling eyes and a sexy grin. How did he know? The rule is, if you can’t get a man in a uniform, put him in a tux—a black tux with a bow tie—then rip it off of him. Okay, maybe my hormones are still on edge.
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