Be Warned: sex toys, multiple partners
1) Tell
us about the world your novel set in (eg: witches, ghosts, creature, etc).
THE GHOST OF HER EX is a contemporary paranormal romance, set in the upper Hudson River Valley—a bit north of Sleepy Hollow! It's wintertime, and there is a tiny house, a big old church, a sweet river town—and an increasing number of ghosts. There's also the funniest funeral scene ever! I promise.
2) What
makes your world/character different from other books in the same genre?
My main character makes my book different. Emily Rauch is not your typical romance heroine. She's in her sixties, vibrant, a church organist who loves to drop the F-bomb—and she's still good friends with her ex-husband, despite the fact that he's been dead for years. But then another ex shows up…
3) What
is your favorite type of Paranormal story to read?
Actually, THE GHOST OF HER EX is a tip of the hat to the old Topper movies and TV shows. It's spooky, but it's funny, too. I think a good ghost story has to be both.
4) Do
you believe in the paranormal? If so, have you ever had a paranormal
experience?
I do. My own (very old) house is haunted and we have been investigated by the local ghost-hunters. There's a supposed to be a clean-freak ghost in my office. She's probably very frustrated with me. That's probably why she turned over the enormous brass floor lamp when I was trying to work one day…
5) Are
you planning on writing more in the paranormal world?
It's my favorite kind of story! My first ghost romance, THE CHEF AND THE GHOST OF BARTHOLEMEW ADDISON JENKINS, explores the side effects of having a one-night stand with a ghost. It's funny/spooky, too, and has really strong heroine, a chef. It, too, is set in the Hudson River Valley—but in the early 80's.
6) What
are your upcoming projects?
I'm at work on a romance set in the mid-seventies in a big, historic house that has been converted to the kind of cheap apartments twenty-somethings could afford back then. A very young heroine…and a motorcycle-riding bartender of a ghost. It'll be fun. I also write poetry and young adult fiction under another name.
Buy Links
Evernight Publishing: https://www.
Excerpt
“…You are a woman of … appetites,
Em. You like to eat and drink and…”
“…and fuck.”
Emily shocked herself by saying that. Dropping an f-bomb when you were just
randomly turning the air blue was one thing. But this was no fuckity-fuck-fuck.
This meant actually doing the deed…
But she
hadn’t
shocked Al. “Indeed. And fuck.” He nodded, his lips tight. “I left you
in the lurch.”
Emily
sighed. “Yup.
Yup. Guess you did. But we talked that stuff to death two decades ago. Shit, Al!
It’s just … just … I don’t know what it is. Alexa, play Widor organ music.”
“I don’t know any
songs by Widor,” said Alexa.
“Alexa, argh!” Emily made neck-choking gestures
toward the black cylinder on her counter.
“Bee-boop,” said
Alexa. Her illuminated blue ring danced and turned itself off.
“I know our lovely
and talented daughter meant well with that thing,” said Al. “But The Echo sucks
at classical music unless you get lucky. Works better just to ask for radio
stations.”
“You’re too good at
that. Do you haunt many Echo owners?”
“Just Gordon.” Al
laughed ruefully. “That young fella of his bought an Alexa for him. Alexa, play
WQXR.”
“Playing WQXR.”
Alexa provided them with the middle of Respighi’s “Ancient Airs and Dances.”
“Not bad,” said
Emily. “No static. It barely comes in up here on the FM. And they’re a public
station now, so no more pre-need funeral ads, I guess. God, funerals!”
“Yeah. That. I
gather you had a spectacularly bad day…”
“Do you get special
ghost email about that or something? Ghost Facebook?”
Al’s laugh, again,
was rueful. “Hard to explain. It doesn’t work like that. I never really thought
of you as a femme fatale, Em.”
“I wasn’t the one
who fatale-ed him! I honestly didn’t intend to have anything else to do
with him! Or not much else, anyway. Look, I was being a sex-positive,
independent woman caring for her own needs. He went home to his girlfriend,
tried for a little more of the old slap and tickle … and crumped.”
“And now you’re
playing his funeral. And he came to the organ loft today to bother you.”
Emily
began to laugh, too—a
bit too hard. There was nothing else left to do. “Oh, fuckity fuck!”
“What?”
Then there
were tears in her eyes again. She laughed until she ran out of air. “I never even
unblocked him on my phone. I never even friended him on … Facebook! It was
supposed to be a nothing. A one-off. A…”
“I sort of remember
Brad. He was at the reception when you played in Brooklyn, right? Was he a good
organist?”
Emily
wiped her eyes. “He
was terrific. But loud and flashy—at least when we were kids. A show-off. I
don’t think I’ve actually listened to him play since before I met you. He loved
boat races as much as he loved music. Not to mention chasing women. I used to
regard that as a challenge when I was in school: break the womanizing horn-dog’s
heart and win the Battle of the Sexes. Ah, Al, we’re so nuts when we’re young.”
Al took
Emily’s
hands. “‘Nuts’ is harsh. I think we’re young when we’re young. You
know?”
“I do know.”
“Em, I’ll tell you
this… Brad’s going to be … around. Womanizer or no, he probably liked
you a lot more than you thought. I get that. Plus, he doesn’t know he’s dead,
right?”
“He seems a bit
unclear about that. He’s got to know I’m practicing for his funeral. You
never seemed unsure about being…”
“Being dead. I had
lots of warning. I was sick for a long time.”
Emily
nodded. “That
sucked. You sure didn’t deserve it.”
Al pecked
her cheek with his usual hurried and dry kiss. “No one deserves it. Your friend
clearly has unfinished business,” he said. And then he disappeared.
Author Bio
Aletta Thorne's author page: https://smile.amazon.com/
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