Anniversary Shenanigans: Author Visit + Giveaway - E.J. Russell

Welcome author E.J. Russell who's joining in the fun with an excerpt from her upcoming novel, Vampire With Benefits (Supernatural Selection, #2)! She's also offering an ebook giveaway too!

Happy blogoversary, Boy Meets Boy Reviews! I’m so pleased to be here to help you celebrate! My contribution to the anniversary bash is an ebook copy of The Druid Next Door, the second in my Fae Out of Water trilogy (part of my Mythmatched universe).
My next Mythmatched book, Vampire With Benefits (second in the Supernatural Selection trilogy), releases on November 26th. A couple of the characters from Druid make significant guest appearances in Vampire. In fact, the excerpt below takes place just before Rusty, an inactive beaver shifter, and vampire Casimir, his temporary husband, suddenly find it necessary to consult a druid—stat.

Rusty stormed out of the club, but he must have gotten turned around in the ballroom, because he wasn’t in the parking lot. He was at the top of a wide swath of manicured lawn that sloped down to the street. He let his momentum carry him down, even though it was the wrong direction to reclaim his truck and get the hell out of Portland.
He needed to be back in Eugene tomorrow anyway, to get started on the lake house repairs, and the last thing he wanted right now was to be anywhere near Casimir Moreau. Would it have killed him to have given Rusty a clue about what they’d be facing? Gaia, if Rusty wanted to be sneered at and shunned, he could have just stayed home.
“Rusty.” Casimir’s voice nearly got lost in the windy dark. “Wait up.”
“Why?” Rusty called, not stopping. “So you can maybe stick an apple in my mouth and lay me out on the buffet table? Oh wait. There isn’t a buffet because none of you eat. Maybe you want me to tap dance. Do a magic trick. Tell a few jokes so your high-toned friends have something to really laugh at, or so when they do laugh I can pretend they’re doing it because of my wit and charm and not at my expense.”
Casimir was suddenly right next to him. “That’s not what this was about.”
“No? Could have fooled me.” He smacked his forehead. “Oh wait. You did fool me. Or rather made a fool of me. I mean, I know we only got married for the shock value.” I just didn’t think I’d be the one getting shocked. “But what exactly were you trying to prove in there?”
Casimir peered up at him, meeting his gaze squarely, his eyes gone muddy yellow in the light of the retro streetlamps. “That I have a right to manage my own life. That the council has no right to deprive me of choice.”
“Oh, so that Henryk guy was right. I was just a way for you to thumb your nose at the council. Make everyone gasp in horror at just how far you’d go to tell them to fuck themselves.”
Casimir had the grace to look ashamed, his gaze falling to the middle of Rusty’s chest. “I’m sorry. I admit that I was thinking more about the effect you’d have on them than the effect they’d have on you.”
Effect. That was a good word for it. Like a flashback to every party he’d ever been to from puberty on, once it was clear he’d never shift. “You could have at least warned me that it was a black tie event.”
“White tie, actually.”
Not the fucking point!” Rusty swung at a No Parking sign at the curb, connecting with a satisfying clang, but his hand caught on a jagged edge and pain lanced through his palm. “Shit.”
“Are you okay? Let me see.”
“It’s all right.” Rusty dug in his pocket with his other hand. Double shit. No handkerchief. He always carried a handkerchief, but he’d been in such a hurry to change into his new clothes. Pretty funny that I thought I looked so damn good. Compared to the vampires in their red carpet–worthy duds, Rusty looked like the accountant brought in to count the votes at the Oscars. No, they wear tuxes too. The accountant’s second-tier mailroom clerk, then. No help for it. Unless he wanted to keep bleeding all the way back to Eugene, he needed to sacrifice his new shirt. He tugged his shirt tail out.
Casimir gripped his forearm. “What are you doing?”
“I need to stanch the blood, and I don’t have a handkerchief. Shirt will have to do.”
“Will you please let me see it? Stop being so stubborn.”
Rusty heaved an irritated sigh. “Fine.” He held up his palm, and blood trickled down his wrist onto his cuff. “There. Happy now?”
“You are such a—” Casimir grabbed Rusty’s wrist, and before Rusty could figure out what was happening, he licked from Rusty’s wrist to palm, finishing with a little extra suck against the cut.
Rusty jerked his hand back, but he couldn’t break Casimir’s iron grip. Talk about effects. Casimir’s tongue on his skin, the suction as he pulled against Rusty’s wound . . . “What the fuck?”
“Vampire saliva has a coagulant. I—” His eyelids fluttered and his knees started to buckle.
Rusty grabbed Casimir’s shoulders, steadying him. “Shit, Casimir. I’m a shifter. My blood is poison to you.”
Casimir wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I . . . forgot.”
“You forgot? What’s wrong with you? Wasn’t your death wish satisfied by actually, you know, dying?”
“Sorry. But you don’t smell like a shifter.” Casimir blinked at him in the amber glow of the streetlight. “I—” He licked his lips. “Is poison supposed to taste this good?” He wobbled, and Rusty caught him around the waist as his knees gave out.
“When I said I wanted to kill you, I didn’t really mean it. What happens? When a vampire bites a shifter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, find out. If we have to pump your stomach, or force a bezoar down your throat, or whatever, it would be good to know, don’t you think?” Was there a vampire equivalent of an EpiPen? “Fuck. This is not what I need tonight.” He glanced around wildly, searching for help, but the damn street was deserted. He wrestled his phone out of his pocket while supporting Casimir against his hip. Could the SMTs get here in time? How long would it take for Casimir to die? Or die again.

(Buy links for other sites aren’t usually up until much closer to release.)

About E.J.
E.J. Russell—grace, mother of three, recovering actor—holds a BA and an MFA in theater, so naturally she’s spent the last three decades as a financial manager, database designer, and business intelligence consultant (as one does). She’s recently abandoned data wrangling, however, and spends her days wrestling words. Her paranormal romantic comedy, The Druid Next Door, was a 2018 RITA® finalist and the winner of the 2017 Rainbow Award for Best Gay Fantasy Romance.
E.J. is married to Curmudgeonly Husband, a man who cares even less about sports than she does. Luckily, CH loves to cook, or all three of their children (Lovely Daughter and Darling Sons A and B) would have survived on nothing but Cheerios, beef jerky, and satsuma mandarins (the extent of E.J.’s culinary skill set).
E.J. lives in rural Oregon, enjoys visits from her wonderful adult children, and indulges in good books, red wine, and the occasional hyperbole.

Connect with E.J.
Facebook group (Reality Optional):
Facebook author page:
 Twitter at

Our thanks to E.J. for helping us celebrate 5 years of unicorning!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Enter to win an ecopy of The Druid Next Door. The giveaway is open until 12:00AM (EST) 11/25/18. Shortly thereafter, we will contact a winner!

Please respond to the winning notification within 48 hours or we will choose another winner. Good luck!

Don't miss entering in our month long unicorn giveaway HERE! It ends 12/1/18!