Hi peeps, we have Erica Kudisch stopping by today with the tour to her new release The Backup, we have a great guest post where Erica shares her character drinks *which I am so trying out!*, we have a great excerpt and a fantastic giveaway, so enjoy the post and leave a comment to enter the giveaway! <3 ~Pixie~ *wanders off to find some creme di cassis*
I’m supposed to be better than this. I’m supposed to have a tenure-track job teaching music history to undergrads, writing papers about Bach, and proving to kids like me that you can work your way out of Harlem. I’m not supposed to be following a rock star around the country, fetching his mail, making sure his groupies are of age.
I’m definitely not supposed to be sleeping with said rock star, who claims to be the Greek God Dionysus. At first I thought it was a load of crap. Nik’s fans might think his music captures their hearts—and souls—but I knew better. Until one of Nik’s orgiastic concerts gets out of hand and I don’t know which is worse: that he might be a god after all, or that he has a body count.
Nik doesn’t care what I want or what I should be. He wants to tear down the world I’ve built, warping all I am, until his music is all that’s left of me. I can’t let him do that. I shouldn’t believe in him. I’ve seen what happens to the people who believe in him.
But I can’t get his song out of my head.
Hi all! Erica Kudisch here, promoting my debut novel THE BACKUP, queer urban fantasy with a side of myth and music. Thanks so much for keeping up with the blog tour! Be sure to swing by the other stops for awesome multimedia content and a $50 prize package giveaway!
What’s a Bacchanal without Character Drinks?
Considering the level of debauchery that occurs at Nik’s shows, and the premium he places on leaving your inhibitions at the door, most concert attendees get shitfaced on whatever the venue has available. Anthony thinks he’s better than that, of course, and in his own words, he goes straight for the tequila.
So here’s a drink recipe that suits his temperament, and a punch that Nik would gladly throw in his face.
The DR. BROOKS
Layer in a salted shot glass:
- a dash of creme di cassis
- a pinch of chopped ginger
- a sliver of lemon rind
Cover with a shot of neat tequila. Patrón if you have it, but whatever is on hand will do.
Shoot, but don’t choke on the rind.
NIK’S WAIVER PUNCH
Layer in a thoroughly iced punch bowl:
- 2 pints of raspberry sorbet
- 2 pints of fresh raspberries
- 2 bottles of pinot noir
- 1 liter of club soda
- 1 liter of the sneakiest vodka you can find
Let sit until the sorbet is partially melted, then stir and drizzle honey over the edges of the bowl. Ladle at will.
Serves one small gathering, or one ambitious lunatic.
Fuck, I really am a butler. But the more time I spend thinking about it, the less work gets done.
By the time I make it back to the apartment, it’s after four, and there’s a new round of unanswered mail, but that’s much easier seen to than left undone, and the only real problem is carrying it at the same time as the groceries and keying the elevator. It’s not awful, just menial—if I repeat that to myself a couple of times, maybe it’ll stick—and by the time the apartment door opens I’ve convinced myself enough to last another hour—
“What the fuck did you do?” Nik’s standing in the center of the living room, gaping at the bookshelves.
“My job,” I say without missing a beat, sidestep Nik to drop the groceries off in the kitchen. “You’ve got too many rare books to leave them on the floor.”
“But now I don’t know where they are,” Nik says, and in spite of his low resonant voice, he sounds so much like a petulant child that it’s almost comical.
Almost. “They’re on the shelves.” I unload the perishables into the refrigerator. “Books belong on shelves.”
Nik snarls. “Fuck you. I can’t find anything.”
“I’ll walk you through it later. They’re just by subject. And if you don’t like it, you can move them back.”
“But I knew where they were.”
I manage to stifle the sigh in my throat, shut my eyes, and crumple the empty plastic bag in my hands. I shouldn’t get angry. I need this job. “I’m sure you can figure out where they are—”
And I walk into Nik’s arm, hemming me in. Is this sudden coil of ice at the base of my spine fear of Nik, or just fear of losing this job? Probably the latter. It had better be the latter.
“Fix it,” Nik says. “If you’re so good at remembering things, fix it. Put them back where they were.”
Of all the fucking things, he wants to make a scene of this? Fine.
“Not on the floor,” I tell him, around the bar of my teeth. “As long as I am living here, books belong on shelves.”
No, that chill was all about Nik. Something in his eyes makes it climb higher, sublimate, slow the world around me down until there’s no doubt he’s in control of it.
I don’t know which I hate more: him, or myself for needing him and this goddamn job.
With one shove of his palm, Nik slams the refrigerator door and stalks out of the kitchen. A few seconds later, the studio door shuts, and maybe the soundproofing isn’t as good as I thought because I can hear the strains of an acoustic guitar, an atonal whirl that sets my skin crawling.
Pyrrhic victories aside, the battle’s won. I can put my earbuds back in and go about the rest of the day’s work without any further trouble. I think.
– Read more at: http://riptidepublishing.com/titles/the-backup (Just click the excerpt tab)
Erica Kudisch lives, writes, sings, and often trips over things in New York City. When not in pursuit of about five different creative vocations, none of which pay her nearly enough, you can usually find her pontificating about dead gay video games, shopping for thigh-high socks, and making her beleaguered characters wait forty thousand words before they get in the sack.
In addition to publishing novellas and short stories as fantastika-focused alter-ego Kaye Chazan (What Aelister Found Here and The Ashkenazi Candidate, both available at Candlemark & Gleam) Erica is responsible for the BDSM musical Dogboy & Justine, and serves as creative director and co-founder of Treble Entendre Productions.
She also has issues with authority. And curses too fucking much.
Connect with Erica:
- Facebook: Erica Kudisch
- Instagram: hardhandmaiden
- Tumblr: shitmywriterwifesays.tumblr.com
- Twitter: @EricaKudisch