accidental 09.5 - interview with an accidental (3 page)

Marty: “She’s the most disagreeable pain in the ass I know, but I love my bloodsucker like a hooker loves a roomful of college frats.”

Nina: “Shut the fuck up, ass-sniffer, and stop slobbering all over me.”

Marty rustles in her chair and winces, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

Marty: “Nina! Your language, please! Don’t forget to mention her potty mouth, Dakota. The readers should know she’s a creative swearer with a horrifying penchant for using the foulest language.”

Oh, dear. And here we go again, folks…

Nina throws up her middle finger at Marty in typical Nina fashion
.
But trust me, there’s a lot of love between these two. Swear it.

Nina: “Zip it, Marty Flaherty, or I’ll pluck you right out of those damn Spanx so fast your eyeballs will bang into each other on the way out of your head—”

I give Nina the eye from across my desk and shake a finger at her—for all the good it does me.

Dakota: “Nina…I’m warning you. We had an agreement. I promised to write you a long vacation on some snow-covered mountaintop sans Marty’s big, annoying yap—your words, not mine—and absolutely no paranormal crises in sight if you behaved during this very important introduction. And as I recall, via that crass email you sent me, where I think you called me the Un-Shakespeare, you agreed. Now, I’ll remind you again, I wrote you. I can and
will
un-write you. Capice?”

Nina grits her teeth, clearly calling upon her very minimal anger management skills in light of our bargain. And trust when I tell you, there’ve been plenty of readers who’ve suggested Nina needs a muzzle due to her outspokenness and lack of filter.

Nina: “Fine. I guess you hold all the GD cards, don’t you,
Ms. Author
?”

I mock a curtsy and smile
.

Dakota: “I do. And you have a trip you want to go on. So can it. Now, where was I? Oh, yes…brash, absolutely no filter, creative swearer blah, blah, blah. Wait! I forgot impatient as a toddler, and she totally shuns all things girlie even though she’s absolutely gorgeous. In a word, she’s polarizing. Either you love her or hate her.

“Thankfully, enough people loved her so much, she’s become an integral part of the books (you can read all about the people who hated her
and
her swearing in reviews—believe that). But please note: She’s also been working on her swearing, now that she has an impressionable little girl.”

Nina grumbles at me and makes a face.

Nina: “Eff you and your stupid bullshit threats, Dakota Cassidy. I’m sick and damn well tired of you holding shit over my head. How the fuck did you get a book published anyway, you tiara-wearin’ hack? What were you, like, Miss Mesozoic BC? It’s a miracle someone hasn’t stolen that keyboard right out from under your manicured fingertips and beat the shit out of you with it.”

Okay, so she’s a work in progress…

A loud gasp resonates in my office. Obviously, Wanda’s level of patience for all things decorum-less has reached its limit. Enter my gentle, kind, always-a-lady-but-will-kick-your-ass-if-need-be Wanda.

Wanda: “Nina! How dare you be so ungrateful! If not for Dakota, you wouldn’t have a husband who’s a bloody saint for putting up with you,
or
our precious Charlie. Now you sit back, hush your endlessly flapping gums, and like it!”

I snicker and clear my throat. You can always count on Wanda to rein in Nina. Wanda’s like Nina’s Beast Whisperer. She rarely argues with Wanda, and I attribute that to the mother figure Wanda has grown into since the series began. Both Marty and Nina are motherless, and Wanda fills a need in them no one else quite can.

Anyway…

Dakota: “This, lovely readers, is Wanda Schwartz-Jefferson. Also, at one point, a Bobbie-Sue rep along with Nina and Marty, and she’s what the girls fondly call a halfsie.”

Nina snorts.

Nina: “Sometimes you gotta laugh at the shit I come up with, huh, Dakota?”

Marty: “You didn’t come up with it, Mistress of the Dark. Dakota did.”

Nina gears up to rise from her chair and loom threateningly over Marty. She does this a lot. You’ll get used to it. I know I keep saying this, but really, to know her is to love her.

I stop her by tapping my desk impatiently with a stray bottle of nail polish and giving everyone a scowl—which means shut it and knock off the arguing.

Dakota: “Wanda from book three,
The Accidental Human
, is a halfsie because she’s half vampire, half werewolf thanks to her mate, Heath. Tell everyone how you ended up where you are today, Wanda.”

Wanda smiles at me as she strokes my dog Tallulah’s head, tucking her cute purse under her chair with her conservatively heeled shoe
.

Wanda: “First, hellllooooo, lovely readers! I hope you’ll join us on our adventures. Now, here’s my story. I continued my career with Bobbie-Sue even after Marty moved to Buffalo and married Keegan, and Nina left the company to marry Greg. I met my mate, Heath Jefferson, and his ever-faithful manservant Archibald, when Heath was down on his luck after losing his vampire sire and was forcibly returned to human form.

“He answered my ad in the newspaper to sell Bobbie-Sue Cosmetics because he was broke after all his money disappeared, much like his vampirism. And he was an amazing salesperson. The women he sold to
loved
him, much to my dismay. But when we met, I was dying of ovarian cancer. However, Heath saved the day—”

Wanda throws a ladylike hand in the air and shakes her head.

Wanda: “Oops. Sorry, Dakota, I almost over-explained it. Stick to the plan. Just the facts, please, right? We’ve already had enough outbursts for one day. Really, Nina, the Un-Shakespeare? Could you be any ruder? There’s just no teaching you, is there?”

Wanda shoots Nina a look of utter disapproval.

But I just laugh and nod. While Nina is censor-less, Wanda is incredibly sensitive and calm
.

Dakota: “My bad. I was so grateful for an easier introduction than you-know-whose, I almost let you. So tell us a little about your life now, Wanda. Are you happy?”

Wanda: “I’m sick with joy. As I said, I’m now mated to Heath, we live with Archibald, who’s still human and handles our household matters, has a penchant for the Food Network, loves a good mystery, and is very British.”

I clap my hands in delight.

Dakota: “Well done, Wanda! But because she’s so modest and selfless, she forgot to mention she’s just as elegant and coiffed as beautifully as Grace Kelly, and possesses amazing manners. Sometimes she can be a little uptight, but who wouldn’t be uptight when they’re the only thing standing between Marty and Nina chewing each other’s faces off? She’s the peacemaker and the nurturer of the group.”

Wanda nods and graces me with a beaming smile.

Wanda: “Thank you, Dakota, and thank you for being so fair with me when you write me in times of utter distress. Oh, and for my Heath. I can’t thank you enough for my Heath.”

Nina: “Oh, please, suck up. Could you be any more kissy-ass? Jesus, Wanda—”

Dakota: “Remember mountains, Nina, and no Marty. Tread lightly, Vampire.”

Nina makes a face at me, but begrudgingly as always, zips her lip.

Dakota: “So, I think it’s fair to say the girls have been through a lot together in nine books. Add in Darnell the demon, Archibald the manservant who’s now, nine books later, like a grandfather to all the paranormal offspring born since the series began, and Carl the zombie, and that about rounds out the cast of the most frequent visitors to The Accidentals. Right, ladies?”

Marty, Nina, and Wanda nod as I blow out a long-overdue breath and prepare to wrap up this batch of crazy while I still have all my hair.

Dakota: “So we’re good here, yes, girls? Because I need a drink. Wait, maybe I need a vat full of booze after dealing with my crabby vampire.”

Marty leans forward and tugs the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

Marty: “You’re forgetting OOPS.”

Nina rolls her eyes in typical exasperation.

Nina: “If only it was that damn easy to forget.”

I’m choosing to ignore Nina because for all the complaining she does about OOPS, she truly loves working with her friends and helping other folks who’ve had an accidental paranormal crisis make their way in their crazy new worlds.

Dakota: “Oh, yes! OOPS. OOPS is an acronym for Out in the Open Paranormal Support. My husband Rob thought that up—you know, as sort of a snark on ‘Oops, I turned you into a vampire? My supreme bad?’ He’s sooo clever.”

Nina rolls her dark eyes even harder, making sure I see her discontent. Because if Nina’s unhappy, ain’t nobody supposed to be happy, and as you’ve witnessed, you can count on her sharing that with you.

Nina: “Yeah, he’s a real dreamboat. Get on with this shit, would you? My Marty-less mountain retreat awaits.”

I smile and wink at Nina because I know it makes her crazy. I’d pinch her cheeks again, too, but it’s probably the surest way to lose a finger at this stage of the game.

Dakota: “Okay so, OOPS is the group the girls founded after book four (I think), when they realized they might not be the only accidental paranormals out there. They wanted to offer support to folks who might have encountered the same kind of terror they each experienced when they were turned. They figured not only could they utilize and share their experiences, having each suffered a supernatural trauma, but possibly help with any adjustments a new paranormal might encounter.

“They started up a fancy website and social media accounts on both Twitter and Facebook, and they’ve handled many paranormal crises since. And that’s where they are as of today—running OOPS in a small basement Marty rented in the middle of Manhattan. Which is also what they’re doing when
Accidentally Aphrodite
opens.”

Nina: “You forgot the part about how we’re always handling all those stupid crank calls you think up,
Writer
.”

I know Nina hates the crank calls, but here’s the thing, it’s realistic, I tell you!

Dakota: “Well, it wouldn’t be at least a little realistic if I didn’t shoot a crank call or two at you, now would it, Nina? I mean, c’mon. A hotline for people who’ve been accidentally turned into a demon screams ‘crank calls’ for days.”

Nina snorts and makes yet another face.

Nina: “Right. How could I forget your artsy-farsty desire to steep vampires and werewolves in realism? What the eff was I thinking?”

Marty gasps, something both she and Wanda do often when Nina’s frank take on life spews from her pretty mouth.

Marty: “What is wrong with you lately, Elvira? I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve been snappish and crabbier than usual. Is it because you’ve toned down all that swearing? Are you frustrated? Spit out the problem so we can get on with this story. Oh, and Dakota? Can you please write me a little taller this next book? You know, so when Nina looms over me like Frankenvamp, I can pop her in the mouth and not get a crick in my neck?”

Dakota: “Don’t you think that would stretch the boundaries of credibility, Marty? I mean, if you grew four inches suddenly—”

Nina snorts—loud and dripping with derision. I know, I know, I keep saying this. She’s impossible, but you have to trust me and just wait to see her in action.

Nina: “Credibility? Listen, Gandhi, who do you think you are? You write stupid fluffy books about the supernatural—”

A loud knock on my office door interrupts us. Thank God. I hope it’s my husband bearing something in a bottle that reads one hundred proof. But it’s not. It’s my favorite demon, Darnell, whom I simply adore. I hope you will, too.

Dakota: “Darnell! I’m so glad to see you! How’s life?”

Darnell, a big, rap-loving, high-top-wearing gentle giant, hesitates by the door but it’s clear he has something on his mind.

Darnell: “I’m just wonderin’ if you got a minute to spare?”

I pat the edge of my desk and give Darnell the warmest smile I have.

Dakota: “You bet, buddy. I always have time for you. What’s on your mind?”

He sighs and looks me straight in the eye.

Darnell: “Why is it you didn’t feel I was important ’nuff to introduce me, too? I mean, I done a lotta savin’ in my time with y’all.”

I grab Darnell’s big hand and squeeze it, because if Darnell’s unhappy, I’m unhappy. He’s one of the most beloved characters in the series, and I never want to mess that up.

Dakota: “Of course you have, Darnell. You’ve gotten the girls out of some sticky situations. I just thought it might be too much at once, you know? I didn’t want to overwhelm people. I mean, you have to admit, the girls are a lot on their own. But you’re right. You deserve an introduction because you’re awesomeness.”

Darnell nods and smiles his infectious grin—a grin that can light up an entire room and make your heart glow.

Darnell: “Appreciated.”

Dakota: “Darnell is a demon rolled in teddy bear who was first featured in
Accidentally Demonic
, book four in the series. He was turned into a demon with trickery and deceit after trying to help his family financially. He flies low under the radar of Hell and consistently lives a life of redemption, despite knowing he’ll be a demon for eternity. He’s helped me out of more writing corners than I can count, too. He’s fond of high-top sneakers and wears thick gold chains around his neck, and his very southern drawl/slang was based on a friend of my son’s who really exists and really has this exact accent and cadence to his speech patterns.

“He loves children and animals and he helps Nina take care of Carl the zombie. He became so popular with readers of the series, he’s been with us ever since. Right, bud?”

I grin at Darnell and he tips an imaginary hat at me with a chuckle.