Let's start 2020 off right! Ms. DD Prince is in the House!
Happy January to Everyone (even Facebook)!
Don’t you just love 2020! How could you not? We’ve all survived 20 years past the year 2000, in which the world was set to self-destruct. See how resilient we are? We also made it through the dreadful Mayan crisis of December 21, 2012. There were several thoughts on how the world would end on that day including but not limited to an Alien invasion.
Alas, the aliens talked it over and decided they weren’t interested.
February 4, 2020 is also said to be a possible world ender. I don’t care about this one because I’ll be on vacation in sunny climes with Mr. Quinn, my sister, who also happens to be the medical advisor for my books (who knew strippers were so smart?) and her partner, who is just like Mr. Quinn and uses my sister’s last name (yep, they’re all Quinns). By the time February 4th rolls around, the four of us we’ll have been together for 10 days so it’s possible that we will welcome a world-ending break from each other.
Having said all that, I’m quite confident that we’ll be around after February 4th.
Do you know why?
Because there are several future cataclysmic events predicted. By logic, if the world ended on February 4th, that would mean all the other predictions would be wrong, and so far, none of the past predictions have come true, so we can only put our stock in future predictions.
Why am talking about the end of the world?
Because DD Prince once said hell would freeze over before she’d let me interview her. And yet here we are, all still standing, hell’s still burning, and I’ve bagged an interview with the famous indy author, DD Prince! Un-effing-believable!
Not really, because it happened, unlike the end of the world bullshit predictions.
Let’s get right down to it. My Interview with DD Prince!
Ms. Prince and I met at her house, a lovely bungalow surrounded by white snow in a city called Niagara Falls, which is quite odd given that I thought Niagara Falls was a waterfall. Who knew a name could be a town and also falls (that’s irony for those of you who haven’t read my shifter romance series)?
Thinking I was going to a party in my honour, I wore a bright red leather figure hugging skirt, four-inch stilettos and a sexy red smile. And a top too, in case you were wondering. It just wasn’t noteworthy.
When I arrived, Ms. Prince and her Phat Cat greeted me at the door. No one else appeared to be present. Perhaps it was a surprise party, but after five minutes of awkward lingering silence while I hovered in the foyer, I realized it was just going to be us: me, DD Prince and Phat Cat.
However disappointed I was that there was no party, I reminded myself that this interview wasn’t about me. I had to do that several times over the course of the interview because yes, I am that shallow.
Ms. Prince looked a vision in her jeans and bright pink flipflops, which she wouldn’t let me borrow for my vacation. Her ponytail hung neatly down one side of her head, the other side, however, was only partially tucked into her hair tie. She didn’t seem to notice so I simply praised her on her unique hairstyle.
Her eyes twinkled like she’d been drinking or smoking something, both of which I had no objection to unless of course, she chose not to share.
I complimented her on her pink flipflops and asked where I might obtain a pair. She told me to eff-off with the sisterhood bullshit and sit down, which I promptly did (sat down only, because it is literally impossible to eff-off and sit down at the same time).
There was a mountain of huge platters of food on the dining table, including the moistest radish rosettes I have ever touched my lips to. Cheeseburgers, cabbage rolls, vegan sushi rolls and other unidentifiable consumables filled the table and the two extension leaves. All of it was intended to be washed down with an abundance of red wine, Starbucks Caramel Macchiatos and Tim Horton’s steeped tea.
Her alien Phat Cat (aka Tucker) kept mewing at me about the cruelty of Ms. Prince who was regularly underfeeding him.
Apparently, I gained the ability to speak alien Phat Cat – either the radish rosettes or the unidentifiable consumables triggered the hidden talent.
After I was appropriately sloshed, I asked my first question.
JQ (as in Jasmin Quinn, as in me): Ms. Prince, should I call you DD or DeeDee?
DD (for brevity’s sake): It’s all in the enunciation. DD is easier to pronounce, so most people use it like a nickname. Facebook forced me to use DeeDee.
JQ: Those bastards. I feel as if you and I could be soul sisters.
Phat cat (clawing my dollar store thigh highs, with surprisingly little effect): DiDi already has a sister.
Apparently, there’s no translation in alien for DD. I ignore the cat
DD (watching the interaction, whispers): Just go with it. He’s been declawed but keeps forgetting.
JQ (winks with complicity): I see. Oh, ouch, bad cat. Ouch.
DD (popping a grape into her mouth): About the soul-sister shit? I’m not feeling it and I don’t know you well enough.
I take a delicate sip of the wine as I contemplate my next move… er… question.
JQ: Yet that’s exactly what happened with Deacon and Ella. I heard you had a hand in getting them together. Yes?
DD seemed surprised at my question. Despite my reputation, I do know how to lob the hard balls.
DD: Well, yeah. I love happy endings. Often my heroines are reluctant at the start, but my heroes are nothing if not determined so we’re all committed in the end😉 (yes, DD is smiling and winking).
JQ: Moving on. Facebook has done us both dirt. I like it when others validate my disdain for giant privacy stealing whore conglomerates.
DD: Crackbook. Yeah. They jailed me for copy/pasting a pic of a ball gag once. It was just a picture of a head! That was when I knew how badly I was addicted. Being able to scroll without liking or commenting.
JQ: I’ve never been to Facebook jail. I guess I’m not naughty enough. Let’s talk about all the things we have in common.
DD (looking sceptical): Such as?
JQ (pursing my lips professionally): This is your interview, Ms. Prince. I don’t want to put words in your mouth.
DD sighs as she exchanges her Starbuck’s tea for an 8-ounce glass of wine, which she mixes with a Vex Vodka cooler.
DD (thoughtfully as she drinks the concoction in her glass): Well, I do hate pirates!
JQ (gasping): How can you hate pirates? They have parrotlets. Saying you hate pirates is like saying you hate parrotlets.
A loud squawking from the other room distracts me.
JQ: What’s that?
DD: My parrotlet. He doesn’t like it when people are mean to me.
JQ (loudly so the parrotlet can hear): I meant no disrespect. Is that why you hate pirates? Because you had to rescue the parrotlet from a viscous, horrible pirate who was mistreating it?
DD: No, I hate internet pirates who violate copyright by stealing my books and making them available to everyone.
JQ (nodding fake-sagely): I hate them too now.
DD: And Goodreads trolls who review books they haven’t read or the book pirates who 1-star everything but keep reading every single book.
JQ: I have a couple of those too.
DD: And turnips. Blech. Who thought that was a good idea? Not mother nature, that’s for sure. Had to be a man.
JQ (a little dismayed over DD’s hatred of innocent vegetables): Not even in stew?
It’s like she doesn’t hear me.
DD: Musicals and pumpkin spice, hate them so much.
JQ (my head is spinning so I pop an unidentified purple consumable): At the same time? Like if you took pumpkin spice to a musical? Or do you simply hate musicals, with or without pumpkin spice?
DD (on a roll now and not listening to me): I also hate when people come into my space while I’m in The Zone (she said it like Chandler does) and then apologize when I make crazy noises and throw my arms up in the air gasping about being interrupted and this makes them want to slink off with apologies but they’ve already broken the spell so they might as well tell me what the Eff they want.
JQ (quickly changing the subject): I understand you’re married.
DD (gulping her wine-cooler concoction): Yes. I lived in sin for six years, then got married. 24 years now.
JQ: So that would make you old then?
DD (coldly): 47 is not old.
DD seems agitated and I think it’s at her husband. Perhaps they’re fighting over the Parrotlet. I want to ask why she would get married after trying someone out for six years but decide that might be a sensitive topic. So instead,
JQ: Describe your husband’s penis.
DD: After this much time together and the fact that I’ve had 2 c-sections and I’m no longer 105 pounds soaking wet, the lights are definitely OFF for The Business. I haven’t seen what it looks like in a while. He recently started cleaning the house. I think it’s sexy AF. LOL
JQ (thinking about Mr. Quinn’s penis and his lack of emptying-the-dishwasher skills): Does it droop?
DD: I have no idea. He’s not droopy around me.
Chagrined, I decide to have a chat with Mr. Quinn and change the subject. Not change the subject about Mr. Quinn’s skills in the kitchen, but move on from DD’s husband lest I stray into sensitive areas.
JQ: Do you like purple penises?
DD: Why yes. Yes, I do. I have a purple Lelo Ina 2.
JQ: How fortuitous that I asked that question! What about purple snakes?
DD: I’m afraid of snakes. I also fear heights.
JQ: Based on those fears, I’m guessing your least favourite movie is Snakes on a Plane. What shows and movies you do like to watch?
DD: I’ve just finished bingeing Peaky Blinders and Carnival Row. I loved them. I loved Game of Thrones (before the last season) and am still not over the ending. I loved Lost and am still not over THAT ending. Why do they keep fucking up my shows? I tend to watch just one thing at a time. I don’t watch a lot of TV. I’d rather read. Or write. But I try to watch an hour of TV a night with my husband so I don’t spend all my non-sleeping/non-cleaning time in my home office.
JQ: It’s good that you’re keeping the spark alive. Mr. Quinn watches hockey and I bitch about it. Same thing, different show. Next question, DD, what’s your peculiar power?
DD: I don’t have one.
JQ: A moment ago I would have said it was your ability to replace bad words with fake ones, such as effing for fucking. But you just said fucking in your last answer, so I too am stumped.
DD: Unless it’s maybe cooking or writing. Though, you’ve barely touched the food I’ve made and those Goodreads trolls are at it again, so maybe I’m talentless. At least I have my cat.
DD reaches for Phat Cat but he snottily wanders off to troll the internet.
JQ: Your cooking is delicious. I find these little gummy bears particularly addictive. And you’re writing is fantastic! Trolls don’t get a say because they’re not human.
JQ: Explain your hatred of scrunchies. Did you have a traumatic childhood experience like I did with ponchos?
DD: It started with Jason Momoa.
JQ: Ah. Aquaman’s alias.
DD: I think it’s the other way around.
JQ (justifiably condescending): Yes, I’m sure it is.
DD: And I don’t hate scrunchies. I loved scrunchies, especially soft velvet ones for my own hair with no pulling as they were roughly yanked out during sexy time. I also had a thing for banana clips. Thank GOD men haven’t started wearing those! Scrunchies on a guy? On an alpha? Mm, no. Maybe I do have a scrunchy trauma that I’ve buried deep, I don’t know, but tell me about this poncho thing (pats chair). Tell Auntie Dee what happened.
JQ: The poncho incident is still too traumatic for me to discuss without more wine.
I hold out my glass as she opens another bottle and empties the entire thing into my goblet. Girl knows how to buy wine glasses.
DD: Have you discussed it with a therapist?
JQ: He thinks I compensate for my childhood by drinking, but I had to quit seeing him. I couldn’t afford both him and the wine.
DD is clever, avoiding my questions by talking about me. The ruse works almost every time.
JQ: Let’s move this convo back to you. What I hear you saying is that you don’t hate scrunchies, but you hate men who wear scrunchies.
DD: My top celebrity crushes are Charlie Hunnam and Jason Momoa but Jason is in a time out because of his scrunchy love. His love for pink hair scrunchies has made me realize my love for him is not unconditional. Sad but true.
JQ: Does Charlie Hunnam wear scrunchies too?
DD: No, he does not. I love everything about him. Dat ass! That sexy smile. And those eyes. Unf.
I’ve lost her again as she gazes off longingly.
I look at my notes and shuffle my papers around like I’ve seen Barbara Walters do when she gets confused but doesn’t want to ask. I do anyway.
JQ: What is Unf?
DD: Unf. You know. UNFFFFFFFF
DD makes a face that I think means to be sexy or wise, but it comes off looking like she might be constipated. I am confused by her expression and also embarrassed by my lack of knowledge of modern words. Stay woke, Jasmin. Stay woke.
JQ (changing topics yet again): My next question is about Phat cat. Why?
DD (looking down at Phat Cat, who looks back at her with an evil glare): I guess I like being dominated. I get immense satisfaction from feeding him, scooping his poop, and getting completely ignored unless he’s looking at me with disdain. It must be why I also chose to get married and have kids.
Phat Cat (not a happy Phat Cat): She’s talking about my shit. Why doesn’t she talk about her own shit? And she wonders why I look at her with disdain.
JQ: Mr. Quinn is afraid of cats so I don’t have one. But truly, Phat Cat sounds delightful.
Phat Cat takes another swipe at my leg and tells me to change the subject. I do, because he’s scary when he’s angry.
JQ: Speaking of parrotlets, according to Wikipedia, they don’t understand that they are a tiny bird, and have little trouble challenging other animals and humans. Parrotlets in general are feisty, affectionate, and willful.
True or False, Ms. Prince. Many of your female heroines are based on your parrotlet.
DD: I think it’s safer to say my heroes are based on my parrotlet. My parrotlet thinks I’m his girlfriend (even though I insist I am not) and he is willing to rip apart anyone who comes near me.
JQ: How old is your parrolet and what is his name?
DD: We named him Captain Jack Sparrow and he’s 8 years old. We call him Jack. He also calls me Jack. Or cutie patootie. Or silly bird.
JQ (squirming on my chair): OMG, he’s a pirate.
DD: I see you’re fanning yourself. I, too, get all aflutter with the notion of a sexy pirate.
Captain Jack Sparrow whips into the room and lands on DD’s shoulder, his unexpected swooping making me jump and knocking over Phat Cat, who is not amused.
Captain Jack Sparrow (staring at me with sexy eyes): Cutie pattootie!
JQ (blushing and fanning myself): Jack, you have such great taste.
DD (also staring at me with narrowed eyes and a cute little pout): Back off you red-lipped hussy. I’m his girlfriend.
I think about getting up in her face, but then remember that I’m not supposed to get physical with my interviewees.
JQ (trying to avoid the Captain’s sexy stare): According to the internet, Parrotlets can live between 20 and 30 years. Does his long lifespan concern you at all? I understand that children also have long lifespans, but they eventually leave home, forgetting to call or text unless they need money. And dogs and cats have the good grace to die when they’re teenagers.
Phat Cat throws me the stink eye and digs his teeth into my ankle bone.
DD: A little concerned, especially with Jack’s possessive tendencies. This bird was bought for my son, but Jack decided that I was his, so I’m pretty much in a committed relationship with him whether I want to be or not (kind of like some of my darker alphas).
DD: This was an actual conversation between me and my mister last night. We had an electrician over dealing with something by the front door and so due to draft worries, we moved Jack to the great room.
Mr watches Jack do a funny wiggle against the rope while going ‘peep peep peep’.
Mr: Is Jack getting ‘off’ on his rope perch?
me: Oh yeah, he always does that.
Mr: Stop that, you lil perv.
me: Don’t stop that, Jack. Self lovin’ is good lovin’.
Mr shakes head at me.
JQ: You have children. How have you kept that fact hidden from everyone?
DD (taking another long swallow of her drink): It’s not a secret. I’ve already mentioned it to you before.
I rifle through my notes, which are more like scribbles on paper, looking for the elusive “fact”. Since I can’t find it, I take a different tact.
JQ: Let’s talk fish. You and I have been invited to a party (I’m so excited!). We go, there are so many really cool people there (like Jason Momoa in a scrunchy) as well as a fish tank with all sorts of swimmers. You’re being pressured to swallow one of the fishes live. Which one would you swallow?
DD: ?@#~? Puff puff, pass,?@#~? <oops. Planet Phallyx translator failure>
I look at Phat Cat who gives me a subtle shake of his head.
DD’s lying about the translator failure, but I let it go, mostly because Phat Cat answered the question.
He said he would swallow the shark.
JQ: Time for my Barbara Walters’ questions.
DD checks her watch.
JQ: What’s new for DD Prince in 2020? What are your writing plans? Do you intend to involve yourself in illegal activities? Will this be the year DD Prince becomes a convict? Does orange suit your colouring?
DD: This year, I’m hoping to write my ass off, make lots of money, get ONLY positive reviews, and become wildly popular and beloved by all. Err… is that early January enthusiasm for a new year? Probably. I’m hoping to have a great year with plenty of new releases. 2019 was light on releases for me (though I did work my ass off with a lot of business stuff related to my books). I write books in multiple romance genres and this year I hope to have releases in all those genres. Biker book. Dark romances. Paranormal. I have readers that read in all those genres and ones who follow me for specific books so I’m hoping to have something for all of them this year.
I fist pump a happy ‘yas’!
JQ: Why did you decide to become a steamy romance writer? Was it because your name wasn’t conducive to becoming a porn star? Or a stripper? Did you not want to change your name so you could pursue these other professions?
DD: My birth certificate says they named me Tasty Taint, so I totally needed a pen name to dial it down a notch. 😉 DD works. Daddy Dom? Double D boobs? It was a nickname when I was a kid and maybe it was a self-fulfilling bra size prophesy.
My eyes get caught up in Ms. Prince’s bosom as she adjusts her over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. I adjust mine too.
Captain Jack Sparrow (squawking on her shoulder): Her eyes are up here.
JQ: You seem to have a split personality. I haven’t decided which of you is the evil personality, but I think it might be DD. Scarlett Starkleigh is just too darn sweet. These next questions are for her.
JQ: Would you fuck an alien who looks like an alien – the kind with tentacles, protruding horns, and scales and other possible stuff (presuming your husband didn’t object)?
ScarStar: Have you been checking my late-night browsing history? Because that’s totally wrong and I admire you for it. <Whispering> I am into monster porn as a guilty pleasure. Tentacles not so much. Then again, in the monster porn I like I really don’t have a choice. What the monster wants, he gets <shivers>.
JQ: Are you married to a human or in a torrid affair with an alien?
ScarStar: I’m always having affairs with whatever book boyfriend I’m writing 😉
In Zane’s and Tanya’s Hot Alpha Alien Husbands book’s epilogue…small spoiler, she finally achieved her dream of publishing books and wrote an alien romance series from Planet Phallyx and her hot alien hubby used his super tech skills to get her published on Earth.
Now, I’m not saying I am Tanya and my husband is Zane and I really live on Planet Phallyx and am just pretending to be DD Prince, a 47 year old mother of two in Niagara Falls, but I’m also NOT saying I’m NOT really Tanya Zenith who lives on Planet Phallyx with her 7 ft tall hot alpha alien husband.
JQ (narrowing my eyes. I think she’s trying to confuse me): Planet Phallyx. Wherever did you come up with that name?
ScarStar: It was a play on words for a phallic symbol. I wanted everything about Project D to be utterly ridiculous in the light and fun read that Daxx and Jetta’s book was designed to be.
JQ: Is there life on other planets or are you just making shit up?
SS: I think the real question is, do you think I’m making this shit up?
It’s a bit of a trick question because all romance novels are based on real life events and the authors’ life experiences. But is Scartlett/DD having torrid love affairs with aliens or does she just think she is? Either way, I give the only answer I dare with Phat Cat staring at me like I’m his next meal.
JQ: No, absolutely you’re not making this shit up.
JQ: This question is for DD. Will your alternate personality, Scarlett Starkleigh, survive the year or are you currently seeking therapy to become whole again? Do you plan to exorcise that unstable… uhm… doppelgänger?
DD: We’ll see what happens with her. She’s momentarily repressed. Shh. You might not want to wake her.
JQ: We’ve worked together on an anthology, haven’t we?
DD: Yes. That was so much fun. I mean, we got an orange banner together. That was awesome. I thought all five stories were great.
JQ: Me too! I loved Holden, although his lack of head at the beginning made me highly suspicious of his skills as a lover. How did you find that experience, working with me? Like on a scale of one to ten, if you were comparing me to the other contributors. I was the best, wasn’t I?
DD (totally sidestepping the question): I thought this interview was about me… speaking of me… you scarred me with the ending of your book in that anthology. I had a full-on head to toe shiver. You totally shocked me when you were the first of five of us to finish because you were like, “I finished mine. Is it bad if the hero kills the heroine?” And people say I’m dark…. Does your hatred of happy endings have something to do with your poncho trauma?
JQ: No. My happy ending phobia is related to my hatred of houseplants. Moving on, and let me preface the question by saying you don’t have to answer this one until you’re good and drunk, but would you consider a future collaboration if someone came up with a brilliant idea?
DD: Definitely. That was my first anthology but overall it was a lot of fun.
JQ: I want to ask you the murder, fuck, marry question because it’s one of my favourites, but you may have trouble answering it since you have very awesome Heroes. Although I know from the books I’ve read of yours, who I would murder, fuck and marry. So I’m asking you and if you can’t find it in your heart to murder anyone, I’ll gladly fill in the blank at risk of getting stoned by your readers – it’s Canada though. Getting stoned is legal now.
DD: Sorry, what were you saying? I was busy counting cannabis gummy bears. Damn, lost count again.
JQ: Oh, those unidentifiable consumables are cannabis gummy bears?
DD (narrowing her eyes like I’m the alien): What was the question? Oh… murder, fuck, marry….
I’d fuck all of them. In fact, I have! Out on the astral plane as I wrote those books. Marry? Tommy will always be my number one. I could be wrong but can’t see writing another H that has more of an impact on my life than Tommy has.
Murder one of my alphas? No way. Shut your dirty mouth. Wait. Before you shut it, which of my alphas would you murder? <Watches ScarStar shoot Jas the evil eye>
JQ (trying to stay on the good side of ScarStar, realizing she’s far more freaky than DD, and not in a good way): I would not kill your gorgeous Daxx or Zane. I’m afraid it would be Alessandro Romero of Saved fame. He stayed with me long after I read the book, and not for the reasons Daxx or Zane did.
I shiver for effect.
JQ: Which of your male characters would be most likely to kidnap you?
DD: Well, all of them because I am a goddess but I have a strong suspicion Tristan, my vampire from Nectar, would be first. My blood is probably delicious, and I bet he can’t stop thinking about it.
JQ: Which of your male characters would try to rescue you?
DD: Probably those beautiful bikers of mine. They’d put their heads together and come up with a plan to get me back.
JQ: Who would win?
DD: Tristan. Those bikers are hot and muscly but my immortal vamp—He’s got SKILLS.
JQ: Who would you want to win?
DD: Tristan, for sure. He can keep me in his lair indefinitely, catering to my every need while feeding from and fucking me around the clock. He tastes like DESSERT. But I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to my bikers.
JQ: I have some quick questions for you. What is your preferred murder weapon and why?
DD: My keyboard. I can be as brutal as I want to with no actual repercussions.
JQ: Smart answer. Describe your ideal penis.
DD: I’ve been looking at the same penis since I was 17 years old. How about… one that’s IN me?
JQ: What are your thoughts on Nutella?
DD: I never get to eat it because I live in a house full of boys who demolish it as soon as I buy it. <Alexa: add Nutella to my shopping list and remind me to hide it>
ALEXA: Adding Nutella to shopping list. Reminding you to hide it.
JQ: Hair-pulled, throat gripped, or wrists restrained. Pick one. Explain your choice.
DD: Yummmm. Oh. Pick one. Wrists restrained. I’ll explain later. I just got a mental picture and I need a minute. 😉 And my charging cord. Shitbuggerdamn. How is this thing dead again?
JQ: I penciled your explanation into my appointment book, two weeks from today. Moving on. You’ve met an ugly baby. How do you compliment it without lying?
DD: Funnily enough we have a code word among my group of friends for an ugly baby and it’s “precious”
JQ (glancing nervously at Phat Cat): If your cat could speak (like your parrotlet), what would it say if I asked it for a reference?
Phat Cat (jumping in with his comments): No more than 2.5 stars.
She’s all right, I suppose. Though, sometimes she misses my cues that my bowl is nearly empty, and I have to give her affection to get her attention when she’s looking at that laptop. She doesn’t understand my preferred wet food to dry food ratio and likely never will and lately has started using a measuring cup for my dry food, which is entirely unacceptable (I preferred the previous method of keeping the bowl full at all times) but in lieu of an alternative and the males in this house, she makes a passable slave. She’s adept at sidestepping me when I try to trip her down the stairs.
Here are my recommendations to increase her rating:
- Buy more treats.
- STOP closing the bathroom door when she goes in, preventing me from entering. I do not like being restricted.
- Find a noiseless vacuum cleaning machine.
- Stop stepping on my tail. She’s stepped on it 4 times in my 10 years and I won’t ever forgive her. The more it happens, the more I’ll try to trip her down the stairs.
JQ (gently toeing Phat Cat to shut him up; Phat Cat bites my shoe): Never mind. Ms. Prince, is there anything you’d like to add before we wrap this interview up?
DD: I’m so glad you came. Eat some more food. I made so much. I want to say that I love readers who take the time to review. And especially those that recommend their favorite books and authors. It really helps a lot. Can I get you another plate of food?
JQ: Is there anymore wine?
DD (shaking her head): No. But would you like a gummy bear?
Gummies are the next best thing and I pocket a handful.
JQ: Thank you for your time today. I appreciate the evasiveness of many of your answers. It makes me feel like once this is published, I will get more respect in the journalistic circles I run in.
I don’t really run, it’s idiomatic expression. Also, none of the journalistic circles will have me.
DD (evading my comment as she packs up a bunch of food to take with me): Thank you again for coming.
Phat Cat sees me to the door and slams it behind me.
DD Prince is an International Bestselling Author who writes Dark, Dangerous, and Deliciously Addictive Romances with Alpha Antiheroes. DD is also Canadian, although she is an easterner.
facebook.com/groups/ddprincefangroup for fun and shenanigans.
facebook.com/ddprincebooks is her main FB page
facebook.com/scarlettstarkleigh – the non-evil alterego 😉
bit.ly/ddprinceonamazon is her Amazon page
That was so much fun and as you know, I’m all about the fun! Thank you DD Prince, for indulging me and being my first author interview in 2020. Once I get the silly out, I’m usually good for another month before I need to act out again.
Which works out perfectly, because Annabel Joseph’s interview with moi (!) will be posted on February 14th. Why, that’s just in time for Valentine’s Day! 😉
Annabel Joseph is a NYT and USA Today bestselling romance author. She writes mainly contemporary romance, although she has been known to dabble in the medieval and Regency eras. She is known for writing emotionally intense storylines, and strives to create characters that seem real–even flawed–so readers are better able to relate to them. She also has a fantastic sense of humour, which comes through in her videos.
Hope the rest of your January is blues free. If not, drop by my Facebook group, Jasmin’s Dark Side, and let me know. I’ll write you a poem!
PS: What’s an interview without outtakes?