Friday, June 2, 2017

Introductions by Ripley Proserpina

I'm so excited to be blogging here each month! My name is Ripley Proserpina, and I'm the author of the reverse harem romance series, The Searchers, and the paranormal romance series The Aegeans. (Later, I will shamelessly self-promote by including universal book links and my author's page on Amazon.)
Reverse harem originated from the Japanese manga and anime world.
You got your girl—
then you got your guys—
 and they all fall in love. Drama ensues and then, happily ever after. Or whatever.
I love writing reverse harem romances, but I also love the classic girl meets boy, especially when the boy shifters into a merman, or something interesting like that. So maybe it's not so classic, but it is in the one boy, one girl sense. Right?

On June 6th, I'm releasing my first book in a new demon romance series called Matched with a Demon. Below is a glimpse into the world the main character, Lucia, inhabits. Hope you enjoy it! ~ Ripley

Her niece had been on Zia Valeria Castilucci’s mind since she woke. Sitting on the edge of her bed, staring out over the snow-covered apartment buildings, she said a quick Prayer to a Guardian Angel, but it did nothing to alleviate the rising nausea in her stomach. It was another nipple-freezing winter day, and somewhere in the city, her niece walked around, probably underdressed, oblivious to the evil following her like a shadow.
Numb fingers fumbled with her buttons as she shivered her way through dressing. She had to get herself together before she approached her older sister. Standing in front of the kitchen door, she breathed deeply, straightening her shoulders and making the sign of the cross before striding through.
 “You talk to Lucia?” She poured herself a cup of coffee without spilling a drop. Good. No trembling. 
“No. I haven’t heard from her in a week.” Connie cracked an egg more forcefully than needed, mumbling as she fished for the shell.
“You haven’t called?” Valeria couldn’t help herself. Needling Connie held as much appeal now as it did when she was six. And just like she’d hoped, Connie rose to the bait. 
“Why should I call? I’m her mother. She should be calling me.”
Facing the tiny backyard, Valeria smiled and rolled her eyes. Her sister had inherited all their mother’s martyrdom and none of her second sight. 
The hot coffee burned a path to her stomach. No. The second sight had come fully to Valeria, the youngest daughter, the black sheep, the disappointment, and of late, the old maid. 
Lifebuoy soap and mint wafted through the door before the newspaper dropped onto the kitchen table with a slap. “Mornin’.”
Glancing over her shoulder to glare at Albert, her sister’s husband, she shuddered. If she had to choose between being an old maid, or being married to Albert Porter, she’d choose old maidenhood any day. 
“Why do you ask?” Her sister’s suspicious voice cut into her reverie, returning the conversation to her earlier question about Lucia.
“No reason.” With commendable steadiness, she placed her mug next to the sink. “It’s too cold for a skirt. I’m going to change.” 
Ignoring her, Valeria strode to her room, closing the door tightly with a soft snick. Lock thrown, she went to her bed, kneeling slowly on audibly creaking knees and reaching beneath the dust ruffle. God. Getting old sucked. 
Her hand brushed over the cold wood floor, searching until she grasped a cylindrical cardboard container. Salt in hand, she walked back to the door, pouring it in a thick line across her doorway. 
Her tarot, worn and soft, sat on the vanity next to the tiny blue jars she collected from antique stores. Her special candela del Santo sat where she left it in the drawer of her nightstand.
Whispering a Hail Mary, Valeria lit her candle and gathered her tarot. She rapped her knuckles against the ancient cards three times, praying the entire time. 
One card: that was all she needed. With Lucia at the forefront of her mind, she shuffled. 
Valeria Castilucci believed in God, the Catholic Church, and the Boston Red Sox. She believed her sister passed pre-made marinara sauce off as her own and hid the glass jars in the garage. She believed her mother looked down on her from Heaven and shook her head at her daughters. 
In this world, there was what could be seen or touched, and there was what could not. The evil eye. The curse of the Bambino. 
Even before she flipped the card over, she knew what she’d see. 
The Tower. 
Burning. Immolation. The destruction of everything before beliefs were rebuilt, reformed. Harder, tougher, and flame-resistant. 
Son of a bitch. She’d better find her niece.
A cry in the night, a child who needs help and a demon who needs redemption.

Rational and serious, Lucia believes in what she can see and touch, preferring to leave the curses and fortune telling to her old-world relatives. Meeting Delia, a half-human, half-demon child, challenges her logic. Desperately alone, the girl searched for someone to keep her safe and finds Lucia. 

Armaros spent his eternal life mired in guilt. Choosing to live life according to his desires and whims, he forced his sister to fall from grace, damning them both. When she vanished, abandoning him and all they’d built together, he pursues. The last thing the Fallen expected to discover was the impossible existence of her child and the fragile human intent on keeping her safe. 

Thrust together, Armaros and Lucia must flee the forces of Heaven and Hell. Determined to protect Delia, they must set aside their differences. Despite the insurmountable odds stacking against them, can they accept that fate put their paths on a collision course? Or are they doomed to fail, losing not only Delia, but also the only other person in the universe who understands them?

Interested in checking out my other books? Here's a link to my author's page on Amazon.
I'll see you July 2nd!

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