December 1, 2014

Suped Feature: Anya Breton on Drowning Sorceress & Worst Holiday Gifts!

It's the first of December and time usually flies this time of the year. In a blink of an eye, Christmas is here followed by 2015. I thought I'd ask Anya Breton to kick start this month with a holiday themed post. I hope you enjoy it and don't forget to check out her latest release, DROWNING SORCERESS out now!

Worst Gifts I Ever Got (and some good ones, too)

When lovely Braine invited me to guest post about Christmas, I jumped at the chance. And then when she suggested I write about the topic of Worst Gifts I Ever Got, I laughed and wrung my hands together like a cartoon villain. 

I’ve gotten some doozies wrapped in festive paper over the years. Most of them from my father. I’ve also gotten some amazing gifts that most other people would likely consider tasteless. Here’s a list of the most memorable ones over the years.

¿Cómo Te Llama?

My dad spent a bit of time in Panama with the Air Force when I was young and brought back some interesting items he thought were a hoot. From the stuffed obese grandma with the rolling pin he thought looked exactly like my great grandmother to the metal alligator clicker, he giggled more at his offerings than I did. As I age, I’ve come to appreciate his sense of humor much more. The one that sticks in my mind most from that year is this stuffed llama doll made from real llama fur. At the time I had no idea what I was supposed to do with a foot-tall llama doll. I didn’t even like llamas. They spit, didn’t they? I’d wanted My Little Ponies (the first time around, y’all)! Not…whatever the heck this thing was!

I spotted one of these at World Market a few months back and squealed and bought it. Ah, how times change.

Cat Fancy

The next Worst Gift I Ever Got also came from Dad. And this I still shake my head at.

As a vocal cat lover with Cat Fancy posters all over my adolescent wall, Dad couldn’t control himself when he gave me this book. His giggling turned him fuchsia and eventually morphed into tears as I gaped.

More so when I flipped through the book and found gems like this:

And wouldn’t you know it, the next year Dad found this to add to my Christmas collection. Yes, they made a sequel.

He continued his feline-themed torment the following year with this lovely addition to my collection (Splat, the Road Kill Cat). 

Weird But Great

I like to balance the bad with the good. So gifts I got that other people would consider the worst ever but I actually think are the best ever.

This stocking stuffer from my guy called the “Chicken Chucker”.

He knows I collect rubber chickens and am wild about stocking stuffers. This gift was perfect because it had super tiny rubber chickens in it (a size I’d never seen) and because it was fun. He bought me two. One to save and one to play with.

A few years later my guy found this beauty for me, “Crazy Cluck”. I affectionately call it the “Choking the Chicken Doll”. 

The video explains it perfectly.

I know some women find small appliances to be gauche Christmas presents, but the space heater was perfect for me. My guy hit it out of the park, all because I often whine that I’m cold. Now my tootsies are toasty warm all winter long.

Payback Is Sweet, Literally

Curious how I got my dad back for his years of inappropriate gifts?

Here is what I gave him for his birthday this year. A scorpion lollypop (with real scorpion inside because he was constantly telling me about seeing chocolate covered ants in foreign markets), Sour Cream & Onion flavored Crick-ettes, and Dog Butt Magnets.

And this amusing, but completely offensive book, “Grandpa Won’t Wake Up”.

Those were my best and worst. What are yours?

Drowning Sorceress
Only Sorceress 3
Anya Breton
Steamy Urban Fantasy
Evernight Publishing
November 13, 2014
Kora, self-proclaimed sorceress and new business owner, would love to concentrate on her bottom line instead of doing her divine mother’s bidding. But keeping her head above water is almost impossible with the goddess of magic’s past favors still haunting Kora. Especially when a Water witch begins drowning victims on dry land and their high priest—the beautiful Desmond—isn’t to blame.

Fighting off sultry vampire Maximo’s advances in between her nemesis’s temper tantrums, an upsetting funeral, and the arrival of vampire investigators hunting for the undead Prince of Persia leaves Kora little time to focus on her mother’s bigger picture. And Desmond stepping in to save the day has Kora on uneasy footing. But it’s his assistant who steal’s Kora’s marionette strings. This time Kora’s soul isn’t the only thing hanging in the balance.

The vampire sauntered across the space as though he owned it. He pulled out the empty seat to my left and settled catty-corner. Faster than I could follow, he had my hands in his cool palms. His milk chocolate colored irises ensnared my pale gray gaze.
His sable hair was styled in a partial pompadour today that managed to look sexy when it would have been ridiculous on just about everyone else. As always, a wavy lock hung over his forehead rather like Augustus Caesar—his trademark.
“Hear me out.” His resonant voice spoke at a soft volume that somehow carried over Henry’s music.
Against all reason, I remained exactly where I was.
“It was never about the ring.” One hand slipped down my arm, caressing the soft hairs across my skin. Shivers of desire skittered up my limb. The rest of me drew tight in a too-sexy way. His fresh lavender, warm sand, moss, and cedar scent pierced the divergent smells until all I could smell was him. “I wanted you before it. Rebecca.”
He’d said this once before. I hadn’t believed him then.
“I want you still.”
My breath caught from the force of desire in his heated eyes. The memory of us together on his sofa, on his bed, on my futon poured through me, warming me from within. My skin burned from it.
“Rebecca.” Sensing the change in me, he crooned softly. “It wasn’t only about the ring for you.”
He brushed his thumb over my lower lip. Finding a drop of moisture at the corner of my mouth, he brought his finger back to suck it clean. His eyelids fluttered shut, and a soft moan escaped him.
Maximo’s eyelids snapped open. He speared me with a full-on silent demand for more. Maximo moved in a blur I’d been unable to anticipate. His mouth clasped over mine, tongue urging itself between my lips before I’d worked out what had happened.
I tried to remain stiff. But the graze of his hand behind my waist and the other fisted in my hair called forth muscle memory. I melted into him like the stupid girl I was. He was firm, cool, and entirely sexy. Every eye in the room would be on us. After all, he was a local celebrity.
I should have bolted when he drew his lips away. Maximo’s grip kept me fixed where I was. I couldn’t move unless I was willing to force the issue with magic. I wasn’t. Not in Flagstaff with the local populace mostly ignorant of the Underground.
He pushed his mouth to my ear, whispering, “Querida, I’ve missed your warmth. Come back to me.”
The sensual sound cut through my core. His cool breath on my skin and firm fingers holding me made me weaker still. Hera, help me resist this man! I shouldn’t want to climb into his lap in the middle of a crowded establishment—not when I was ashamed to be with him in the first place.
“I can’t.” My throat closed from the strength of his emotion. Without an empathic link—emotion sensing courtesy of Water magic—I could still sense extreme emotions. Apparently Maximo was experiencing something. I ignored it. “I can’t get the image of what you did in my apartment out of my head.”
It was the truth, but not the whole truth. What he’d done to the foreign vampire intent on turning me was something I’d never forget, true. But I’d never wanted to get involved with Maximo in the first place.
He released my hair and dropped his hand to my shoulder. Maximo’s face returned in front of me. A grim expression stretched across his handsome features. “I did it to save you.”
The implication was there, but he didn’t speak the word.
“I know.” I nodded. “But I know that’s in you. It frightens me.”
Okay, so I was hamming it up a little, but it was the truth. I was uneasy he had the power and fortitude to rip a man’s spinal cord right out of his back.
“You are safe from me. Rebecca.” Maximo gave my shoulder blade a gentle squeeze. “I won’t hurt you.”
He didn’t say that he’d never hurt me. We both knew that would be a lie. He’d killed his last lover because she’d set me on fire. Maximo claimed their love had faded decades ago, but I didn’t know how anyone could hurt the one they’d loved.
I made myself give him an answer. “I’m sorry, Max.”
He lowered his head within kissing distance. “Querida, give me a chance to fix this.”
Though I could practically taste him, I managed to stay strong. “I’m sorry, Max. But we tried. It didn’t work. It’s over.”
“No.” The single word was stated with an emphatic press. “It isn’t over. I won’t give up.” He got to his feet with a regal flourish of powerful limbs. “I will fix this. Rebecca.”
Declaration uttered, Maximo de Sole strode to the glass door.
I slumped against the chair as soon as his sable head disappeared around the corner.
I’d held my ground. Maximo hadn’t been able to seduce himself back into my good graces. I was free to move about after dusk, secure in the knowledge my will was stronger than Wipuk’s First’s will.

Thank the gods for small victories.

Anya Breton is a web monkey with an obsession for nail polish and rubber chickens. Her fears include Peeps and people who hate clowns. She lives in the Midwest with her significant other.

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  1. Hahaha! That Llama is fugly, and that dead cat book—WTH! It seems like Breton and my father have something in common, they are both horrible gift givers. One year I got this tribal statue from my father, I think I was 8, but he failed to notice that the thing had a giant wang. Good times!

    Carmel @ Rabid Reads.

    1. LOL @ the giant wang. That does sound like something my dad would give me just to see if I'd comment about the wang (so he could giggle).

    2. Bwahaha! Consider it your first lesson about the birds and the bees.

  2. LOL! It is funny how our tastes (and sense of humor) changes over time. :)

    1. So true, I think I've gone greener as I grew older

    2. Exactly! I find I'm way too much like him now, but I'm okay with that ;)

  3. LOL That was fun! I especially like the Dead Cat books...although I don't think my cat-loving daughter would appreciate the humor either. :) I think the worst gift I've ever received was a plant. This came from my husband who was well aware at this point that I cannot keep a plant alive to save my life! LOL

    1. He's probably issuing a challenge?

    2. Yeah, I was *not* amused.

      Was it a special, hardy plant??

  4. Oh my gosh those are too funny! Love it :D My worst gift...wrinkle cream from my grandmom. Now. It was freaking expensive wrinkle cream but talk about harsh! I'd just turned 30 that year. lol

    1. Wanna trade? I'm sure you don't need it still, I'd love to have that!

    2. Wow, maybe she wanted to prepare you for the future. I'm 37 and I'd totally love expensive wrinkle cream for Christmas now...

  5. That was too funny. What a treasure trove of gifts, I am sure she will cheris them for years to come. I am glad that her dad has such a wacky sense of humor.

    1. Yup, I'd like to interview the dude after this post!

    2. This probably explains why I'm wacky too ;)

  6. lmbo!! your dad has some sense of humor. I like him ;)

    my worst, socks and not just any socks...sweat socks. Who does that? smh.

    1. It's not used right?

      I'm so weird, I think I wouldn't mind getting socks for Christmas as long as they're cute sweat socks?

    2. We totally got socks for Christmas too. And underwear. Not sure what was worse, the dead cat book or socks. At least the dead cat book came with a tale I could tell years later ;)

    3. Braine ~ my cousin pulled that one year...used socks. I was pissed!

      Anya ~ ugh! underwear too? smh. lawd, lols. I think I like the dead cat tale better

  7. <333 I forgot to ask you, how did your Dad like the crickets? lol

    1. Oh shit I forgot to mention this, thanks Mel for bringing it up, I've tried the crickets and it's not so bad! :P

    2. He just laughed, shook his head, and then told me all about the chocolate covered ants & french fried butterflies as if I hadn't heard the story a hundred times. I'll ask him next time I talk to him if he was brave enough to try them.

  8. Okay, I feel deprived. I haven't gotten any horrid or hilarious gifts like that. Those are priceless.

    And thanks for the intro to another new to me book.

    1. There is always time for a horrid gift. You just have to find that one weird friend or family member ;)

  9. OMG this was hilarious..I think I love your Dad!

    1. He's definitely a character. I dedicated my first print book to him, thanking him for teaching me it was okay to be weird ;)

  10. LOL ... This post just got better and better. That's hilarious about your dad, but the 'Grandpa Won't Wake Up' book as payback is priceless!

    1. omg! If you ever see that book in person, you have to flip through it. It's absolutely OFFENSIVE (but hilarious), exactly the kind of thing Dad would like.

  11. I sooooo want that llama. And that Dead Cat book , hilarious! The worst gift I ever got was a collection of western movies. I hate western movies. And golf balls...I have no golf clubs. They were gifts from my dad, and pretty much for my dad.

  12. Oh thanks for the fun post, it was interesting to see all these gifts. They're quite a thing. Thanks as well for the excerpt!


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