Like a Virgin with Angel Martinez...

When Angel Martinez was like a virgin…

So…in honor of my first solo release coming out soon…I've decided to celebrate by talking to some very talented authors about their first solo release! *giggles* You see…it isn't all about me all the time…but I do love weaseling my way into the mix most of the time…hehe

Today I've got the wonderful Angel Martinez here sharing a few special moments and hopefully intimate details with me…*waggles eyebrows*…about her first ever fantasy release Finn and after that we get a yummy taste straight from the source…*giggles and bounces* gotta love that!

*scoots closer to Angel and links elbows* Hello beautiful…thanks for allowing me to drag you over to my blog today…I hope it will be good for you too…

*Head on Havan’s shoulder* I’m sure it will be

Now I love fantasies, the world building, the different varieties of mythical characters that come straight from a fertile imagination, the intricate layers of thoughts upon desires…*sighs and leans closer to Angel* yeah, fantasies have it all…tell us about your first ever fantasy release… Finn…

Finn is the story of a pooka lost in New York and the heartbroken novelist who rescues him. It’s about love and loss, art and honor, making bad choices and how to get a pooka across international lines.

 *snorts coffee over myself* um…yeah…those international lines can be a witch…

I noted that this was a rerelease *giggles like a child*…I mean, this was previously published before and now is part of the Silver Publishing family. What were your thoughts behind this? Did you change it up some…smooth it out…add to it?

It’s essentially the same book in every important way this second time around (*singing* lovelier this second time around…) Oops, sorry. I carry way too many lyrics in my head. Seriously, though, there were minor edits and some rough passages ironed out but no major changes that I expect anyone to be able to catch unless they line the two editions up side by side.

Endangered Fae 1.5

How did Finn's story come to you? Was his tale a long slow seduction in your mind or did he pile drive it to you all at once? *innocent expression* What…some people get the beginning middle and end all in one thrust and some tend to need it fed to them in bits and pieces…*winks*

Finn was very gentle with me. He’s not normally the pile-driving kind, lol. Most of my stories sprout, evolve, and grow rather than spring up fully formed. With Finn, I had a very clear picture of the beginning hit me like a roof shingle after a windstorm and a clear view of the end came shortly after. Making the road map to that end was a more gradual process.

Okay…about me for a second *big smiles*…I'm personally going through some withdrawal anxieties with my boys… did you have any withdrawal pains when you sent your boys out there in the big bad world?

Always, always, always. Will the publisher like my boys? Will the editor be nice to them? Will they get a cover that really lets them shine? Will they be able to play nice with all the other fantasy novels on the publisher’s site? I think we all have separation anxiety when we send our literary kids out into the world. You feed them, you raise them, you want them to make it in the world.

And you want to shelter them and smother them and…um…yeah you get me *big smiles*

Endangered Fae 2

Finn isn't on its own out there now though, you've added to this book with Finn's Christmas (Endangered Fae 1½) and Diego (Endangered Fae 2). Will you add more? Maybe expand on this world that has so many people enthralled? Were these sequels already planned when you were writing Finn.

Funny you should ask that – there is more Endangered Fae in the works. The next book is Zach’s story (and sorry, you have to read Diego to know who Zach is) titled Semper Fae. From the title alone, you should be able to guess some things. Was that my original intention? No. Finn was supposed to be a standalone novel, just a nice fantasy romance. Finn had other ideas. He sat in my study and pestered me until I agreed to another story. “Finn,” I said. “You do know that another story means more danger and strife, right?” Finn said, yes, he knew that, but he liked the attention and said he had faith that things would end well. Brave pooka.

And he was right—you take real good care of them! *sighs*

Gotta ask this one…why Fae? There are so many fantasy characters to choose from—what made you choose fairies? Was it daunting to create such an elaborate 'world' for Finn to come from?

I wanted something a bit different, something not done quite as often as, say, vamps and weres, for instance, and didn’t want to simply do another elf story. The pooka is a rather unique character in fairy lore, and one that can and can’t be described as Fae. I love the tricksters, the mischief-makers in every tradition and the pooka, in Irish tradition, fits the bill. As for the world building, I don’t find it daunting – it’s one of my greatest joys. Finn’s world, especially when we cross the Veil in Diego, is loosely based on Irish myths and legends about the fae.

Nice! Now, one of my fave questions…if you had to turn your virgin experience of publishing Finn into an erotic novel what would you title it?

The Long, Slow Ride J

Colors can tell a lot about people and experiences…what color would you label your first foray into publishing and why?

Red. Red is exciting and manic (and Finn likes it.)

Now…just because I like to throw things at you…*winks*…here are a few quickies for us about your boys…answer with Finn & Diego…

Most likely to get down and dirty in public… Finn, no question

Most likely to wear a fedora and rock it… Finn

Most likely to eat food in bed *winks*… Both of them. Bad boys.

Most likely to be found barefoot… Very Finn, hates shoes

Most likely to find a stray kitten and bring her home… Diego. And he has.

Most likely to have a rope fetish… More of a Diego thing

Most likely to have a sweet tooth… Oh, Finn, without a doubt.

In a silly battle of wills…most likely to refrain from…um…pleasuring themselves the longest… Ha! Diego. Finn wouldn’t be able to muster the restraint.

Blurb:

Finn wakes to a poisoned world, lost and starving, but a man comes to save him, a white light in the darkness. Can a centuries old pooka find what he needs with a heartbroken, modern man?

When Diego rescues a naked man from the rail of the Brooklyn Bridge, he just wants to get the poor man out of traffic and to social services. He gets more than he bargained for when Finn turns out to be an ailing pooka, poisoned by the pollution of the city. To help him recover, Diego takes him north to New Brunswick where Finn inadvertently wakes an ancient, evil spirit, the wendigo.

While Diego and Finn struggle to find a way to destroy the wendigo before it can possess Diego or kill nearby innocents, Diego wrestles with his growing feelings for Finn. Can they succeed in killing the monster and in navigating a relationship between a modern man and a centuries-old fairy?

You can find Finn @ Silver Publishing, Amazon, All Romance e-books (ARe)

You can find Angel Martinez @ http://www.freewebs.com/angelwrites/

Excerpt:

The figure crouched on the bridge shocked Diego so thoroughly he drove a hundred yards before he realized what he had seen.

A man squatted on his heels on the rail, one hand on a cable, the other clutching a ragged blanket at his throat. Threadbare cloth flapped around bare ankles. The persistent wind yanked it this way and that to show flashes of naked legs.

"Holy shit," Diego muttered, as he wrestled his ancient Toyota into the nearest side street to park. This was none of his business. Didn't he have enough problems? Even as he argued with himself, he ran, dodging traffic and ignoring angry epithets as he pelted back up the bridge against traffic. The inevitable gaper delay had slowed the flow at least, making his precarious journey easier.

People stared from the safety of their vehicles as they inched along but no one stopped to help.

Diego ignored them. His primary concern was not to startle the man into falling. He slowed his approach, ready to offer soothing words, but the man heard his footsteps. Long black hair whipped and snaked in the wind, hiding his face, though Diego caught a glimpse of bared teeth.

"Did you come after me?" the jumper snarled. "I won't go back."

"Go back where?" Diego seized the opportunity to start the man talking.

The jumper shook his head to clear the hair from his eyes and peered at Diego. Black eyes, not dark brown, but black, set in deeply shadowed sockets. "No, I suppose you don't look like one of those," he said in a softly accented, weary voice.

"One of who?" Diego edged closer to stand next to him.

"The ones who shut me in the iron cage. I changed. I escaped." His words seemed to stick in his throat and even above the traffic, Diego heard him swallow hard. "But now I'm too tired. I can't... and the river is so filthy. I think it might kill me."

At least he doesn't sound like he wants to die. "Look, if you don't want the police catching up to you, or the hospital staff, or whoever it is, this is about the worst thing you could do. You're upsetting all these people and attracting a lot of attention. They'll be here any minute." Diego reached out a hand, palm up. "Please come down. Let's get you safe and out of the wind. Then we'll see about straightening all this out."

The man regarded him through the shifting curtain of hair for a long moment. "What are you called?"

Depends who you talk to. "My name is Diego. Diego Sandoval." He lurched forward when the man swayed, his stomach plummeting to his feet, but the jumper retained his place on the rail.

The man repeated his name a few times as if trying it out and then nodded. "It's a good name. Pleasurable to say."

"And you?"

"I am called Fionnachd."

Diego tried to repeat it and won a hint of a smile from the man when he mangled the pronunciation. "Could I call you Finn?"

That got a shrug. The blanket fell back from his shoulder to reveal all too prominent bones. "You could. Some have. I don't mind."

"Climb down, Finn," Diego urged again. "I'll help you. Let's get you somewhere quiet where you can rest."

Finn took his fingers in a light grip and Diego caught a whiff of rotten orange rinds as he slid from the rail.

What the hell am I doing? He could have Hepatitis or HIV or tuberculosis, or worse. He's probably crazy. Maybe even dangerous.

The intense plea in those black-on-black eyes silenced his practical objections. Lost and alone, he needed someone. Diego had never been good at walking away.

He slipped out of his trench coat, placed it around Finn's shoulders, followed it with his arm and led him away. His 'latest project', Mitch would have sneered. Not that he should care any more what Mitch thought.

They reached the car without incident, but here, Finn balked. "They put me in one of those before."

One of... the car? "Well, I doubt it was as beat up as this one," Diego tried to joke, but Finn backed a step. Diego patted the car's roof. "No lights. Not a police car. Or an ambulance."

Finn lifted his chin and sniffed the air. "You do smell kind and trustworthy. But some of the others did, too."

"They probably wanted to help you and didn't know what would upset you. Why did they arrest you? Did they say?"

Finn rubbed a hand over the side of his head, further snarling the mess of hair over the top half of his face. "Indecent exposure. I don't know what's indecent about standing on the dock watching the boats, though."

Irish. Diego was certain he'd placed the accent. "It's usually because someone's stark naked, not because they're watching boats."

"Oh."

He had no idea how much of this was a put on. No one could be that naïve. Though someone could be that deluded. Time enough to sort it all out later. Right now, he had to get Finn off the street before he crumpled to the pavement.

"Look, this goes both ways. I don't know if I can trust you either," Diego said, as he opened the passenger door.

A Cheshire Cat grin bloomed under the flying mass of hair. "Well said. You may be the first sensible person I've met since I woke."

Finn took the two steps to the car and let Diego help him in. He gingerly avoided touching the doorframe but finally settled back with an exhausted sigh.

Diego drove away just as sirens began to sound on the bridge.


* * * *


The ordeal of the shower seemed cruel, but Finn was filthy and smelled like a dumpster during a garbage strike. Diego placed one of his plastic kitchen chairs in the middle of the shower and installed Finn there, but he only slumped against the chair back, eyes closed, face turned into the spray.

Too exhausted to even flinch.

Diego fought down the little shiver of revulsion at the stench, stripped to his boxers, and stepped into the stall with him. He attacked the tangled mass of hair first, positioning Finn so his head hung back over the chair. No lice--a good sign. He might have been homeless, but he probably hadn't lived on the streets too long. The nest of midnight snarls unwound under the caress of water and shampoo. If Finn stood, his hair would reach at least to the top curve of his butt. A strange blue-black iridescence shone in it, his natural coloring as far as Diego could tell rather than bottled special effects.

The rest Diego washed with a loofah, shoving away modesty out of a need to get Finn to his rest. An ache lodged around his heart to see how malnutrition had ravaged what probably had been a lean-muscled frame. An athlete, perhaps, before he went off the deep end, an impression reinforced by the absence of almost all body hair. Waxed or electrolysis-denuded--only Finn's crotch sported a black thatch of soft hair. Swimmer, perhaps. The Olympic competitors often shaved it all off for every small gain in streamlining.

He turned off the water and tugged at Finn's arm. "Come on. Let's get you settled. You can't sleep in the shower."

Finn staggered to his feet and Diego all but carried him to Mitch's room. The spare room, he corrected himself. He usually kept the door closed so the stark, unfurnished space wasn't glaring at him.

He sat Finn down against the wall, brought him a pair of flannel pajamas, soft with age, and went out to the front closet to retrieve the air mattress and vacuum. Six boxes lay stacked against the wall; all that remained of Mitch's things. Diego ran a hand over one, and then shook his head against the temptation to open the top and look over its contents. When he returned, Finn hadn't moved from where he sat naked and dozing in a patch of sunlight.

"You might want to put those on." Diego toed the pajamas closer as he dragged the air mattress into place. When Finn's only response was a long sigh, he added, "We need to get you warm. I don't want to have to take you to Emergency."

With a puzzled frown, Finn unfolded the material and managed, after looking back and forth between the pajamas and Diego's jeans a few times, to pull the bottoms on. His efforts with the top, though, were sabotaged when the vacuum roared to life. He startled and scuttled sideways, wide-eyed and panting.

Diego hurried to switch it off. "Sorry. Should have warned you."

"Is it some sort of small dragon?"

For a moment, Diego stared in blank surprise before he caught himself. At least the nature of Finn's delusion was becoming clearer. He might even share his history later when he had the energy, perhaps some tragic story of an exiled prince. For now, Diego thought it best to play along.

"Not a dragon. Just a machine. It blows out and sucks in air with great force."

"Ah." Finn seemed disappointed, but waved a hand for him to continue.

Mattress inflated, Finn dressed and installed in bed, Diego thought he should get something in him before he drifted off. He tried tap water first but Finn jerked his head away, the color draining from his face.

"Tainted," he gasped. "Great Dagda, it reeks."

Diego sniffed above the glass, puzzled. New York City water, piped in from the mountains, was cleaner than most but it was treated. Chlorine. Fluoride. Maybe Finn had an allergy to one or the other.

Bottled water produced a less violent reaction. Finn smelled it, nose crinkled, but he downed half the bottle in desperate gulps before Diego could take it back from him. Hydration, at least, wouldn't be an issue.

The hurdle of food remained. Starvation often did terrible things to the body's ability to accept nourishment. Not the best time to offer a hamburger and fries. Diego decided he should start with the foods one was supposed to give sick kids: bananas, rice, applesauce and toast, minus the applesauce, since he didn't have any.

Finn wouldn't touch the boiled-in-tap-water rice. He nibbled a corner of the toast and set it aside with murmured apologies. The banana completely stumped him. He turned it over and over in his hands and finally tried to bite through the skin.

"You eat these?" He handed it back to Diego with a grimace.

All right, so his reality doesn't include New World fruit. Diego peeled the banana for him and handed it back. "You don't eat the skin. Try the inside."

He took a careful bite and his eyes widened. "That's not bad."

Diego could only watch anxiously, praying his guest wouldn't choke, as the rest disappeared in three bites. With a contented sigh, Finn handed the peel back, gathered the covers into a circle in the center of the mattress, and curled into a tight ball inside his nest. By the time Diego brought an extra comforter to cover him, Finn was fast asleep.

Clean and at rest, his face had a childlike quality with his hair tucked behind one finely-curved ear. Diego wasn't certain it was a handsome face, almost unearthly in its delicacy, and though Finn stood six inches taller, he had the odd feeling he could scoop that long frame up in his arms without much effort.

He backed out and closed the door as quietly as he could, confident Finn wouldn't die on him. Tomorrow he would see about finding the right agency to take his guest, preferably one that wouldn't hand him right over to immigration.

A few hours of peace while Finn slept should let him at least get through the current chapter.

The moment he sat ready at his desk, fingers poised over the keys, the phone rang.