GtPGKogPYT4p61R1biicqBXsUzo" /> Google+ Sheep Interview: Urban Fantasy Author Deborah Wilde + giveaway | I Smell Sheep

Paranormal reviews of books, movies, comics with author interviews and giveaways we love urban fantasy, romance, science fiction, horror, fantasy, mysteries

Monday, April 10, 2017

Sheep Interview: Urban Fantasy Author Deborah Wilde + giveaway

Help us welcome author Deborah Wilde! She is going to share the most private of places in her home...*whispers* her fridge. And tell us who she would climb like a tree if they came to her door...we might also talk about her latest release The Unlikeable Demon Hunter.

Sharon: Hello! Welcome to I Smell Sheep. You and your main character Nava Katz fit right in around here. Most of the flock are bad ass, snarky, sexy-man appreciating women. So we should probably start with the most important question…Who would you climb like a freaking tree if he showed up at your door?

Deborah: This is the best first question I’ve ever been asked! Fictional character would be Jericho Barrons from Karen Marie Moning’s Fever series. I would shiv anyone who got between me and said climbing. Real person? Hmm. Probably Arjun Gupta in his Penny persona from The Magicians. (Fun fact, this photo was what I used as my starting “research” point for my character Rohan. Yup, researched the hell out of it.)
Sharon: Oh snap! I know who Arjun is…not only climb that, build a treehouse and swing… I gotta agree with Barrons too. He is my gold standard for alpha males.
Deborah: I knew I liked you.

Sharon: For those who don’t know about your debut book The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (great title by the way) tell us a little about it. Do you know how many books the series will be? Or how it all ends?
Deborah: Thanks! It’s the age-old story of what happens when a foul-mouthed, romance impaired heroine with no edit button and a predilection for hot sex is faced with her worst nightmare–a purpose. I describe it as Bridesmaids meets Buffy with a dash of the seven deadly sins.

At the moment it’s a six-book series and I have more or less of an idea of how it ends. That said, if I’m still loving writing these books, I could continue with a new arc. I’ve left the door open for more than the six.

Sharon: Which of the deadly sins have you committed this week?
Deborah: Let’s be real. Probably all of them.
Sharon: I knew I liked you <G>

Sharon: What kind of bad habits does Nava Katz have? And how much of your personality did you sneak into her.
Deborah: She’s snarky, self-defensive, and has carefully cultivated her hot mess status. This is a girl seriously in denial about the emotional baggage she’s carrying around from a couple of major life upsets. Nava is me when I turn off my edit button. We share a love of tap dancing, smexy men, and craving our own happily-ever-after, which I have. Yay! (Buried under layers and layers of sarcasm.)

When I created Nava, I really wanted to play with what being an “unlikeable” female meant because I believe that even fictional women are held to a different standard than fictional men, especially around sexuality. And I also brought a lot of my issues around the sexism inherent in the Jewish religion (mine) to it. So yeah, Nava and her story are very personal to me in different ways.

Sharon: If you have kids, did you pass on that broken edit button? If you don’t have kids, would want to pass it on…like a mini me <G>?
Deborah: I have a total mini me. She’s both smart and a smart-ass. I’m hoping she uses her powers for good – i.e. for my benefit.

Sharon: Tell us about Rohan Mitra! Are there any single Demon Hunters? Names? Numbers?
Deborah: I’m so in love with Rohan, it’s kind of embarrassing. I’m an unabashed fan of the alpha male trope, but not with it defined as the guy being a douchebag. What I love most about Rohan is that while he fights Nava for control in every aspect of their relationship, he only does so because he knows she can stand toe-to-toe with him. He also has her back so completely and, because of his belief in her, he pushes her to grow as a person in a way that no one else does. He’s a California boy of East Indian/Jewish heritage who was a former mega rock star, and he loves his mother.
All the main demon hunters in my series–Drio, Kane, Ari, Baruch, and Rohan–would define themselves as single. Technically, sure. But they’re either all also massively deluded about their feelings for other people or super broken and unable to be in any kind of relationship. Wait, let me rephrase. Deluded and super broken. Not really an either/or situation.

Sharon: We appreciate alpha males around here…even got a feature called Alpha Male Diner. Do you like alpha males who purr or growl in your ear?
Deborah: Yup.

Sharon: What time are you most productive? Where are you most productive?
Deborah: It varies. When I get deep into writing or revising, I’ll start before breakfast and still be writing at 10PM. With breaks to grudgingly do things like feed my family, teach, or listen when people speak to me. There’s no one place I’m most productive. I can (and will) write anywhere.

Sharon: You also wrote a YA romcom The Blooming Goddess Trilogy under the name Tellulah Darling. Where in the world did you come up with that pen name?! (if it’s your real name…sorry <G>)
Deborah: It’s my real name in an alternate universe. :) I wanted a pen name that invited the reader to come have fun with me. A signal that these books would be about the swoon and the sass but, hey, let’s laugh a lot along the way.

Sharon: Do you know all the words to any Disney songs?
Deborah: Try me - Alice in Wonderland, Jungle Book, Snow White, Little Mermaid, Mary Poppins- what do you want? These days though, I’m all about Hamilton.
Sharon: My daughter and I are trying to get tickets to Hamilton. We sing it in the car… “Everyone give it up for America’s favorite fighting Frenchman...”
Deborah: So do me and my daughter! I keep joking that she’s had 10 years of French Immersion education so that she can rap Guns & Ships with a French accent. #proudmom
Sharon: OMG!  If I thought she would agree, I'd ask her to video that for us!

Sharon: Truth or Dare? (will get in second round) Since you didn’t pick, I’ll pick for you. DARE! Take a pic of the inside of your freezer or fridge.
Deborah: My fridge is super boring but here. You can see my condiments door. And that I need to go shopping.
Sharon: You were a screen writer for 12 years. Why did you leave it?
Deborah: At the time, the industry here in Canada was pretty dire. I’d gotten to the point where I wasn’t sure I even enjoyed writing anymore. My first Tellulah Darling book was actually written because I love YA and love romcoms and I just wanted to see if I still found any joy in writing by penning something totally different. I did (obviously) and I actually enjoyed it so much, I just kept going. I still teach screenwriting, though. I love taking my students through the process of creating great TV pilots and features.

Sharon: Can you share your favorite line from The Unlikeable Demon Hunter?
Deborah: I prostrated myself like a wedding guest begging the Godfather for a favor.

Sharon: If you were a floral arrangement, what type of flowers would be included?
Deborah: Gerber daisies, dahlias, and tiger lilies.

Photo credit: torbakhopper via Visual Hunt / CC BY-ND

Sharon: Can you change the oil on a car or a tire?
Deborah: Nope. Totally hopeless and rather embarrassed by that fact. Jump starting my battery is about as far as I can go.

Sharon: Hey, most people can’t even do that! Can Nava change oil or tires?
Deborah: I wish I could say yes but I doubt it. That will be part of her growth.

Sharon: Where is some place you have traveled yet, but hope to one day?
Deborah: Thailand.

Rapid Fire:

Sharon: Walmart or Target?
Deborah: Target

Sharon: form fitting jeans or tailored dress pants?
Deborah: Tailored dress pants.

Sharon: tattoos or piercings?
Deborah: Piercings

Sharon: favorite place on a man, woman?
Deborah: The line of a woman’s neck. A man’s smile. Cliché I know, but I’m a goner for a sexy smile.

Sharon: pancakes or French toast?
Deborah: French toast
Sharon: Powdered sugar or syrup on them?
Deborah: Jack Daniels syrup. This local restaurant makes it and it’s the best!

Sharon: candle light dinner or beach bonfire?
Deborah: Candle light dinner

Sharon: slow and soft or fast and hard?
Deborah: Both have their merits. :P

Sharon: I forgot the most important one! Coke or Pepsi?
Deborah: Coke. No question.
Sharon: *blinks* But whyyyyyyy?!

Deborah: Thank you so much for having me here, Sharon. I loved chatting with you!

by Deborah Wilde
April 18, 2017
Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Te Da Media
Number of pages: 420
Word Count: 87,400
Cover Artist: Damonza
Bridesmaids meets Buffy with a dash of the seven deadly sins.

The age-old story of what happens when a foul-mouthed, romance impaired heroine with no edit button and a predilection for hot sex is faced with her worst nightmare–a purpose

Ari Katz is intelligent, driven, and will make an excellent demon hunter once initiated into the Brotherhood of David. However, this book is about his twin Nava: a smart-ass, self-cultivated hot mess, who is thrilled her brother is stuck with all the chosen one crap.

When Nava half-drunkenly interrupts Ari’s induction ceremony, she expects to be chastised. What she doesn’t expect is to take her brother’s place among the–until now–all-male demon hunters. Even worse? Her infuriating leader is former rock star Rohan Mitra.

Too bad Rohan’s exactly what Nava’s always wanted: the perfect bad boy fling with no strings attached, because he may also be the one to bring down her carefully erected emotional shields. That’s as dangerous as all the evil fiends vying for the bragging rights of killing the only female ever chosen for Demon Club.

Odds of survival: eh.

Odds of having a very good time with Rohan before she bites it: much better.


Mornings after sucked.

Walks of shame were a necessary evil, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed shimmying back into the same trollop togs twice. I picked glitter out of my hair, then straightened my sequined top. I was officially decommissioning it. Multiple washings never quite managed to remove the lingering aura of bad decisions I made while wearing party clothes. My philosophy? Cross my fingers and hope for the most bang for the bucks spent later on new outfits.

The surly cabbie evil-eyed me to hurry up.

I complied, rooting around in my clutch for some crumpled bills before handing them over and stumbling out of the taxi onto the sidewalk.

Fresh air was a godsend after the stale bitter coffee smell I’d been trapped with during the ride. I pressed a finger to my temple, a persistent dull throb stabbing me behind my eyeballs. My residual feel good haze clashed big-time with the glaring sun screaming at me to wake up, and the buzz of a neighbor’s lawnmower cutting through the Sunday morning quiet didn’t help matters. Best get inside.

Smoothing out my mini skirt, I readied myself for my tame-my-happy-slut-self-to-boring-PG-rating body check when a wave of dizziness crashed through me. Whoa. I brought my gaze back to horizon level, swallowing hard. That sea-sickness technique was doing dick-all so I rummaged in my bag for my ginger chews.

No puking in the bushes, I chided myself, letting the spicy smooth and sweet candy fight my nausea. My mother would toss my bubble ass out if I defiled her precious rhodos.


The rise and fall of my chest as I took a few deep breaths spotlit a slight problem. My spangly blouse was missing two buttons. And I was missing a bra. Hook-up Dude had been worth the loss of a pair of socks, maybe a bargain bin thong. But the latest in purple push-up technology? No. I allowed myself a second to mourn. It had been a good and loyal bra.

The sex, on the other hand? Total crap. The girls, who were normally perky C cups, seemed a bit subdued. I couldn’t blame them. What’s-his-name had started out with all the promise of a wild stallion gallop, but he’d ended up more of a gentle trot. I didn’t know if the fault lay with the jockey or the ride, but it had been a long time since I’d seen a finish line.

Since I couldn’t keep examining my tits on the front walk with Mrs. Jepson side-eyeing me from behind her living room curtains, I thrust my chin up and clacked a staccato rhythm toward my front door on those mini torture chambers that had seemed such a good idea yesterday.

Every step made our precisely manicured lawn undulate. I clamped my lips shut, willing the ginger chews to kick in while fumbling my key into the lock. Dad had screwed up the measurements on our striking cedar and stained glass front door and, being a touch too big for the frame, it needed to be shouldered open.

I crashed into the door like a linebacker. Once I’d extricated myself and my keys from the lock, I brushed myself off, and stepped inside. Our house itself was comfortably upper middle class but not huge, since my parents preferred to spend money on trips and books instead of the overpriced real estate found in here in Vancouver. A quick glance to my left showed that the TV room was empty. I crossed my fingers that Mom and Dad were out at their squash game, my main reason for picking this specific time to sneak back in.

Really, a twenty-year-old shouldn’t have had to sneak. But then again, a twenty-year-old probably should have kept her last menial job for longer than two weeks, so I wasn’t in a position to argue rights.

I kicked off my shoes, sighing in delight at the feel of cool tile under my bare feet as I padded through the house to our homey kitchen. No one was in there either. Someone, probably Mom, had tacked the envelope with my final–and only–pay stub from the call center that I’d left lying around onto our small “miscellaneous” cork board. The gleaming quartz counters were now free of their usual clutter of papers, books, and latest gourmet food find. That meant company. Come to think of it, I did hear someone in the living room.

A study in tasteful shades of white, the large formal room was off-limits unless we had special guests. Mom had set that rule when my twin brother Ari and I were little tornados running around the place and while there was no longer a baby gate baring our way, conditioning and several memorable scoldings kept us out.

Hmmm. Could Ari be entertaining an actual human boy? Le gasp.

I beelined for the back of the house, past the row of identically framed family photos hanging in a neat grid, my head cocked. Listening for more voices, but all was quiet. Maybe I’d been wrong? I hoped not. Both finding my brother with a crush–blackmail dirt–and helping myself to the liquor cabinet were positive prospects. What better way to lose that hangover headache than get drunk again? Oh, the joys of being Canadian with socialized health care and legal drinking age of nineteen. After a year (officially) honing that skill, I imbibed at an Olympic level.

The red wine on the modular coffee table gleamed in a shaft of sunlight like its position had been ordained by the gods. I snatched up the crystal decanter, sloshing the liquid into the glass conveniently placed next to it. Once in a while, a girl could actually catch a break.

I fanned myself with one hand. The myriad of lit candles seemed a bit much for Ari’s romantic encounter, but wine drinking trumped curiosity so I chugged the booze back. My entire body cheered as the cloyingly-sweet alcohol hit my system, though I hoped it wasn’t Manischewitz because hangovers on that were a bitch. I’d slugged back half the contents when I saw my mom on the far side of the room clutch her throat, eyes wide with horror. Not her usual, “you need an intervention” horror. No, her expression indicated I’d reached a whole new level of fuck-up.

“Nava Liron Katz,” she gasped in full name outrage.

My cheeks still bulging with wine, I properly scoped out the room. Mom? Check. Dad? Check. Ari? Check? Rabbi Abrams, here to perform the ceremony to induct my brother as the latest member in the Brotherhood of David, the chosen demon hunters?


I spit the wine back into what I now realized was a silver chalice and handed it to the elderly bearded rabbi. “Carry on,” I told him. Then I threw up on his shoes.

About the Author:
A global wanderer, hopeless romantic, and total cynic with a broken edit button, Deborah writes adult urban fantasy to satisfy her love of smexy romances and tales of chicks who kick ass. She is all about the happily-ever-after, with a huge dose of hilarity along the way. “It takes a bad girl to fight evil. Go Wilde.”

Tour giveaway 
1 signed paperback copy The Unlikeable Demon Hunter
a Rafflecopter giveaway


  1. Thanks so much for letting me stop by and chat, Sharon! This interview was a blast. :)

  2. I love this title. Can't wait to find out why I don't like her ;).

  3. Awesome interview! I didn't realize that Tellulah Darling was your pen name! But it totally makes sense!

  4. A very lively interview.