Accidentally…Cimil? by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff hits store shelves today, and I have lots of fun ways to celebrate! First up is an interview with Mimi, than a short Q&A with Cimil. You can also read an excerpt from the book, and finally, enter the awesome giveaway! Let’s get started with the celebration!
[Manga Maniac Cafe] Hi, Mimi! Can you describe yourself in five words or less.
[Mimi] Batshitcrazyoptimistrulebreaker, who hates mean people.
[Manga Maniac Cafe] If you had a theme song, what would it be?
[Mimi] One More Time, Daft Punk. (That’s what’s playing right now.)
[Manga Maniac Cafe] Name one thing you won’t leave home without.
[Mimi] My body. Okay, clothes, too.
[Manga Maniac Cafe] Name three things on your desk right now.
[Mimi] 1. Kleenex—I always cry when I write those sad scenes.
2. A HUUUUUGE stack of Post-its—they help me track the kooky twists in my plots and ensure I don’t forget the gazillion things I have to do.
3. Star Wars light saber lip gloss. It lights up and makes my lips moist. Can anything beat that?
[Manga Maniac Cafe] Name some books that you enjoyed recently?
[Mimi] I don’t get to read much these days because I signed up for a wonderful, yet hefty writing schedule with Hachette (2 novellas and 2 novels in one year) on top of my demanding day job. I also have two kids and a fabulous hubby (the glue, or Señor Glue, as I like to call him). The books I have read and enjoyed were for my Man Candy show on Radioslot.com. (Shameless plug!) Our mission—rain or shine—is to make people happy with silly humor, good books, and lots of kinky sex advice. Recently, we’ve loved novels by Andrea Johnson Beck, Joyce Lamb, Anne Barton, and Elizabeth James.
[Manga Maniac Cafe] What do you like to do when you aren’t writing?
[Mimi] Ohmygod. I try to sleep! My schedule is 4 a.m. to 10 p.m. of pure, caffeinated madness, 7 days a week. If I’m not writing, I’m with my babies, working, or trying to ensure my ass doesn’t grow any larger than it already is.
[Manga Maniac Cafe] How can readers connect with you?
[Mimi] I always prefer they visit my dreams so I can multitask, but barring that, Facebook is super-efficient. They can also visit me at www.mimijean.net, email me at email@example.com, or sign up for my mailing list—random crap and book info. S’all good!
[Manga Maniac Cafe] Thank you!
Not to be outdone, Cimil wanted to answer a few question, too!
Cimil Q&A By Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
1. Cimil, rumor has it that you are trying to end the world. How do you respond to these allegations?
- Well, that’s just crazy-talk! (And absolutely true.) I would never try to harm my precious people pets (a HUGE lie), because I am a deity. I am incapable of doing harm to anyone. (Another HUGE lie.) That said, everything I touch does have a way of blowing up. (All true.) But it’s not my fault. I swear! (Sad, but true.) Once you read my story, you will understand. (Not likely, but hey… One can dream.)
2. Why, exactly, do you hate clowns?
- Really now. Why does anyone hate clowns? They smile all the time. It’s just creepy. And wholly unnatural. Nuff said.
3. How did Minky become your pet? Where did you find her?
- Ah! Now there’s an exciting story. It was about 10,000 B.C., and I was hunting packs of randy little Leprechauns (to play a prank on Fate; their tiny little hands freak her out). Anywhoodles, I came across Minky trying to steal their pot of gold (it’s invisible, just like Minky). We’ve been best buds ever since.
Cimil, did you just make up that entire story?
- Yes. Absolutely. Dangit! I’m such a bad liar! The truth is we met at a knitting circle.
You’re not going to tell us the truth, are you?
4. Now that your darkest secrets have been revealed in your novella, Accidentally Cimil, how do you feel? And do you still plan to smite the writer?
- My secret is such a humdinger, how can I not be relieved? My only concern is that my brethren will reject me when they find out. But it’s really not my fault. And yes, Mimi Jean shall be smote!
So is your dark secret the reason you lied to your brethren about being clairvoyant when your true gift is speaking to the dead?
- No. Being clairvoyant just sounded cooler. Don’t get me wrong, talking to dead people, seeing the world’s future and past through their eyes certainly has its perks, but half the time they just sit around complaining about being dead. Or losing at poker. (The dead play lots of poker.)
5. Can you give us a hint about how the series will end?
- I could tell you, but you’d never believe me. It’s BIG! It would even shock a Leprechaun and nothing shocks those little bastards. I will tell you this, however; it involves very hungry hippopotami.
See you in August!
Hugs and many naughty thoughts,
About the book
ACCIDENTALLY…CIMIL? by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
January 7, 2014; Forever E-Novella; $1.99; 978-1-4555-4703-6
Meet Cimil. Yeah, she’s the Goddess of the Underworld, harbinger of all things evil and deadly, yadda, yadda . . . but she’s also crazy fun! While minding her own business in Giza, Egypt, around 3000 BC (give or take a few centuries), she spots the hottest mortal her immortal eyes have ever seen. And he’s not just any guy-he’s the strong, powerful pharaoh who’s fallen madly in love with her. But when he kills her pet unicorn, Cimil vows revenge, even if takes thousands of years to get even.
When Roberto meets Cimil, the king knows she’s his soul mate. It isn’t just her beautiful eyes or gorgeous body, but the godly power he feels simmering just beneath her fun-loving surface. They were the perfect couple . . . until the dead unicorn thing. Now after four thousand years, Roberto crosses paths with Cimil again, and his love for her is stronger than ever. But can he prove that he can once again be trusted with her heart?
About the author:
Mimi Jean Pamfiloff is The New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of Paranormal Romance. Before taking up a permanent residence in the San Francisco Bay Area, Mimi spent time living near NYC (became a shopaholic), in Mexico City (developed a taste for very spicy food), and Arizona (now hates jumping chollas, but pines for sherbet sunsets). Her love of pre-Hispanic culture, big cities, and romance inspires her to write when she’s not busy with kids, hubby, work, and life…or getting sucked into a juicy novel.
She hopes that someday, leather pants for men will make a big comeback and that her writing might make you laugh when you need it most.
He closed the gap between us and grabbed me by the shoulders. I was about to release a surge of light into his hands simply for the sheer joy of watching him shoot across the room and slam into the wall, but then I remembered the stupid collar. I was dead in the water.
“I came to tell you something,” he said.
“You may speak.”
I could have sworn I saw actual sparks shoot from his eyes. Probably no one had ever told him anything other than, “Yes, my king” or “No, my king” and “Your wish is my command, my king.” Well, soon he’d be just another soul wondering why he had wasted his life on silly things like wealth and power.
And why the hell he’d messed with me!
He closed his eyes and took a breath, clamping down whatever bull crap he had the urge to say. When his dark eyes opened again, he tilted his head and placed his hand on my cheek. There was flicker of something almost… endearing within them.
“I came to tell you that I am sorry.” His jaw muscles ticked as he ground his teeth. “I am sorry for treating you so rudely.”
Wow. Looks like that hurt! “Are you okay? Should I make you a pot of soothing chamomile tea or call for a healer?”
His eyes shifted a bit. “I am very well. Why do you ask?”
Because you look like you just dropped an egg and have the worst PMS ever. “I’m guessing that apologizing, especially to a lowly female, bruised that giant ego of yours. But I’m glad to see you survived. Good stuff. Now, let me go. I have a planet to rescue.”
His face turned bright red. “I will not release you until you take the vow.”
I rolled my eyes. “Back to square one, are we?”
He didn’t respond.
Ugh! “A square is one of those shapes that has four—”
“I know what a square is,” he interrupted. “But I do not understand your expression.”
“Square one is the place where you started—Oh! Never mind, Chucky,” I said. “What I meant was that you are infuriating! You thought you could come in here, make an apology—wow! Such a huge sacrifice—and win me over with that? Really, big boy? You’ve taken me prisoner. You put this collar around my neck like I’m some sort of pet, and you’ve neutralized my powers. Do you really think an apology is going to—”
He bent his head and kissed me hard.
My entire body lit up like a bonfire, and the heat from his bare chest enveloped me in a steamy wave of lust. My knees buckled, and he immediately wrapped me in his large arms, pulling me close to prevent me from sliding down to the floor where I conjectured I might end up a squishy little puddle of fluttering nerves and unflattering spasms of joy.
And for a moment, I swore our bodies melted together. I’d never felt anything so potent. That dark, empty space inside my chest began to glow like a warm ember, and the only thing I could think of was stripping away my tiny little top and skirt. I wanted to feel his heavy body slip and slide over mine as his hands and mouth roamed every inch of my—
I pushed away and slapped him. Hard.
Rage flickered in his eyes. “What in the gods’ name was that?”
In my name? In my name? I huffed and then poked him. “No! You tell me what that was!”
“That was called a kiss.”