Spotlight & Giveaway: Not Today, Satan by Samantha Joyce

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Samantha Joyce to HJ!

Hi Samantha and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Not Today, Satan!

 
Thanks so much for having me! I’m excited to speak with Harlequin Junkie readers about my new book.
 

Please summarize the book a la Twitter style for the readers here:

NOT TODAY, SATAN is about Devica, the devil’s daughter (yes, THAT devil). At 17 years old, she’s supposed to take over ruling Hell on her next birthday, but she’s pretty much over all the fire and the tortured screams and would rather not. When she meets Nate, the cute boy who swears he’s innocent of the crime that sent him down there, she decides to help him break out of Hell and leave with him.
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

I can tell you what happens when your life goes to hell.
When you’ve crossed a line you can’t come back from.
You’re scared.
You’re confused.
And if you’re standing in front of me, your life has literally gone to Hell.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• This is a comedic and romantic reimagining of Dante’s Inferno
• I wrote the first draft of this book in 2013. I’ve written many other books since (only two I’ve published), but I never gave up on this story.
• It’s the result of me wondering, “What if I set a rom-com in the darkest place in the universe?”
• While on the surface this book appears to be just a sweet romantic comedy, it also deals with deeper issues that affect teens like growing your own identity beyond parental expectations, image dysmorphia, loneliness, bullying and trying to find your place in the world.
• Nate is loosely based on a teen version of the actor Nathan Fillion.

What first attracts your main characters to each other?

They’re both lonely, and stuck in a place they’d like to escape. Nate is kind to Devica, and sees more to her than just her father. She’s surprised by his lack of fear and disgust for her, like most humans. He also makes her laugh, which she’s not used to. People rarely tell jokes in Hell.
 

Using just 5 words, how would you describe your main characters”love affair?

I shouldn’t love you but…
 

The First Kiss…

The first kiss takes place at the most unexpected place in Hell and that’s all I’ll say about that.
 

Without revealing too much, what is your favorite scene in the book?

My favorite scene is when Devica and Nate are traversing the lot for the Prideful, which is a maze of mirrors that shows you the worst of yourself. As someone who has struggled with my own self esteem and dysmorphia, this was both the hardest and the easiest scene for me to write. Here’s a teaser:

He leads me with a confi dence I’ve not yet seen in him. Swerving through the mirrors, he only stops once to question the direction, then takes off through the maze without hesitation.
My chest heaves as I pant to keep up. Seriously, who is he?
“Are you saying the mirrors didn’t get to you at all?” I ask between breaths. “They never showed you the worst of yourself?”
“I guess this is as bad as it gets.” Nate shrugs. “I should probably be offended.”
A laugh bubbles up my throat. How is he so self-assured and so self-deprecating at the same time? Perhaps one is covering for the other. I know how that feels.
Lowering my head, I focus on my feet as Nate leads us to the exit and grins triumphantly. I try to smile back, but it dies on my lips as I catch my reflection before we exit the lot. The horns and tail are only shadows now, black smoke surrounding my form, but they’re still there. I follow him out the door, my gaze on the back of his head.
This place revealed me for the monster I am but had no effect on the boy sent here because of the monster he once was.
Suddenly I’m not sure which one of us I should be more afraid of.

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would be absolutely crucial to include?

The scene where Nate busts into Devica’s room and she peers into his soul to see if he is guilty. It’s their first intimate moment, and Dev’s caught completely off guard by him.
Here’s a teaser of that moment:

We lock eyes as I try to peer into him. I wade beyond the teal hues of his irises and follow them deeper.
“Your eyes,” Nathan Reynolds blurts, slicing into my concentration.
“What about them?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“They’re purple. Back when we met, I thought they were a dark blue. But in this light, they’re violet.”
His gaze bores into mine, and my stomach backflips. It’s like he can see my soul clearer than I see his. Except I don’t have a soul. And it doesn’t matter what he sees in me, since he’ll be out of my life soon.
I break eye contact and focus on my bare feet. “Your point is?”
“I’ve never seen anything like them.” He swallows. “They’re beautiful.”
Heat creeps up my neck and into my cheeks. My mouth dries out, and I can’t find a reply. I clear my throat again before placing my fingers back on the side of his face to steady him, then take another breath and press into his mind. The jolt through my body is as strong as lightning. I’d fall backward if I wasn’t gripping his skull so tightly. The room around me spins away, and everything turns white.
I’m connected to his soul instantly. It’s tethered to me like a rope, pulling me farther into his subconscious. I follow the cord, tugging myself forward, trying to make out anything in the shadows. But there’s nothing there. Instead of the answers Mr. Bellum promised, all I find is an empty space before I’m flung from his mind.
I’m back in my room, surrounded by the familiar blue walls and gold-trimmed furniture.
Well, that’s never happened before.

Readers should read this book …

Readers should read this book if they want a fun and funny YA love story that explores a dark place but has heart. It will make you laugh and swoon and possibly cry.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

I’m currently working on the sequel to NOT TODAY, SATAN. I’ll have more info on that one soon!

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: An ebook of NOT TODAY, SATAN (world)

To enter Giveaway, share this post and leave a comment to this Q: My main character, Devica, has the ability to see the sins a person has committed. What would you choose to do with this ability? Would you even want to have it?

Giveaway will end 3 days for post date.

Excerpt from Not Today, Satan:

Plucking another folder from the stack beside me, I flip it open and call to the line without looking up, “Next!”
“Uh, I think that’s me. But there’s been a mistake.”
“Seriously?” I rub my temples as the pressure in my head builds. “Did you not hear the dude in front of you? We don’t make mistakes here.”
I scan the information provided in the report with bleary vision.
Why do I keep getting the complainers? I should pawn them off to my coworker, Ferus. He may be the worst demon who ever demoned and he hates humans more than I do, but he has a way with them. By the end, they think he’s doing them a favor by sending them off to their lot.
“You don’t understand,” the voice persists. “I really don’t belong here. I did nothing wrong.”
I study the report. An elderly lady with white hair and glasses smiles at me from the attached photo Father used for judgment. Funny, the voice doesn’t sound like it belongs to a senior citizen.
I raise my eyes and frown.
The boy before me bears no resemblance to the woman in the photo. His eyes are the kind of blue I’ve seen only in pictures Father’s shown me of oceans on Earth. Their depth makes me shiver.
Father warned me that oceans are as dangerous as shadelings. They may appear calm and beautiful on the surface, but monsters lurk below.
A lock of sandy-brown hair falls in front of his right eye. He’s young, maybe my age. Too young to be standing in front of me. Usually, humans his age go to the in-between until they earn their way up or down.
He’s done something awful to be standing in front of me.
“You don’t look like an Ethel Tofflemeyer,” I say, reading the name typed beneath the old woman’s photo.
“I get that a lot.” He lets out a low chuckle.
I narrow my eyes. “You know where you are, right?”
“Let’s see, fire…brimstone…creepy-ass demons… I’m going to take a guess and say it’s not Disneyland,” he says. “This place does not scream, ‘The Happiest Place on Earth.’”
His sideways grin throws me. Not only because I can’t remember the last time a shadeling smiled at me, but because, for some reason, my heart picks up speed when his smile reaches his eyes.
I swallow.
Something’s definitely defective in this one. No wonder he’s here.
“I’ve never been to Disneyland,” I say, my gaze locked with his. “But that’s not our motto.”
An agonized cry bursts from one of the shadelings in the boat to our right, and all traces of humor drain from his face. “I’m getting that.”
“What have you done with Ethel Tofflemeyer?”
“Who?”
I hold up the photo of the elderly woman, and his eyes widen with recognition.
“Oh, her! She was in front of me. She saw I was upset and offered me her place in line. Then she gave me a stale butterscotch candy and disappeared.” He holds up a gold wrapper and rubs his chin. “Huh. I guess you can take it with you.”
Closing the file, I sigh, then scrawl an X across the front in black marker and toss it on top of a pile marked “Last-minute Ascensions.”
This happens sometimes. Someone who’s on the cusp of making it to Paradise earns their way up. It’s not a common occurrence, because humans, but I’ve seen it once or twice.
I pull the stack of folders I haven’t gotten to yet toward me and wade through them. “What’s your name?”
“Reynolds,” he says, peering at me over the files. “Nate Reynolds. Err… Nathan, I guess.”
“Mr. Reynolds, can I see the stamp on your wrist?”
“What stamp? I don’t—” He squints at his inner arm and gasps when he spots the mark etched into his skin. He opens his mouth to say something, but, for the first time since he’s joined my line, Nathan Reynolds appears to be speechless.
I hold out my hand, but he remains frozen, his gaze on his wrist.
I’ve seen this before, too. Shadelings so surprised about being here that they cease to function. I bite the inside of my cheek. So much for getting out of here early today. At this rate, I’ll be doing overtime.
I lift my butt out of my chair and grab his wrist. He jumps at my touch, and I gasp. I’ve forgotten how cold their flesh is compared to my own. His skin is smooth as ivory, soft as velvet. I clear my throat and scribble the numbers onto a blank sheet of paper.
He snatches his hand back the moment I loosen my grip.
My face must betray my surprise, because he mutters an apology and holds his wrist out again. It trembles visibly in the dim lighting of the Welcome Hall. “Did you get it?”
“Yeah, hang on. Let me find your file.” I scan his papers for a long time. I’d been right about us being the same age. Nathan Reynolds is—was—seventeen. An orphan from Los Angeles whose parents died in a car accident when he was only six. He’d spent most of his life trekking from foster home to foster home.
Until today. The day he killed his foster dad.
Police found him standing over the body, clutching the murder weapon. When he didn’t respond to their pleas to drop the gun, they shot him. He died before he made it to the hospital.
I study Nathan Reynolds from behind the folder. It’s hard to believe that those eyes that crinkle when he smiles conceal the mind of a murderer. But I know better.
My home is proof that humans are capable of awful things. Especially those you least suspect. It’s why the line in front of me
never ends. Humans don’t know how to be good.
“Well?” he asks, hope blooming across his features like a fire rose bursting through the dirt in Father’s garden.
“Yup, you definitely belong here,” I say, sliding an icy tone beneath my words. “You’re a murderer.”
“That’s not what happened.” He leans forward and I force myself to maintain his gaze, despite every instinct to look away. “I was framed.”
“Look,” I say. “I have nothing to do with this. Pleading with me won’t help. I check you in, and off you go. You’ve already been judged, and it seems you were judged correctly.” I toss a jumpsuit onto the desk. “Here are your new clothes. You’ll be in Lot Thirteen, with the other murderers.”
His fingers curl around my wrist, and I gasp at the contact. I took his arm earlier, but shadelings aren’t ever supposed to touch me. Not that it’s usually a problem. Most of them are too scared to try.
“Let go of me,” I growl.
“Sorry.” He drops my wrist and wrings his fingers. “I didn’t mean to do that. I hope I didn’t hurt you. I… Please, you need to help me. I don’t belong here.”
“Is there a problem?” Neither of us noticed Nefas approach, and we both jump at his appearance at my desk.
All color drains from Nathan Reynolds’s face, and I almost feel sorry for him.
Almost.
“No problem, Nefas. Mr. Reynolds here was about to get on your boat to Lot Thirteen. You should help him find his way.”
I watch as Nefas escorts Nathan Reynolds toward the river that leads out of Dominus, the capital, and into the cities of sin, and the human gives me one last pleading glance over his shoulder.
An ache blooms in my chest.
Lot Thirteen is a horrid place. One of the worst. Joke Boy’s not going to do well there.
Not that I care. He deserves what he gets.
They all do.

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

I’m destined to rule the damned…not fall for one.

Think your life is hell?
Try being the Prince of Darkness’s only daughter—a seventeen-year-old born and raised in Hell, destined to inherit the throne, and constantly enduring the (literal) eternal moans and screams of souls who had it coming.
The only thing worse than ruling the Underworld is working here. Day after day, it’s me, a bunch of demons who are too intimidated by my dad to befriend me, and an endless lineup of sinners. Until Nathan Reynolds shows up, with a smile that could turn brimstone to butterflies, claiming he’s innocent.
I don’t question the system; it’s never wrong. But Nate’s pleading eyes have me doubting everything I’ve ever known.
So, I’m going to do the one thing I’m not supposed to do: I’m going to help him break out. Even if it means showing Nate exactly who I am. Metaphorical horns and all.
Because if we don’t make it out of here?
We’re not just damned. We’re doomed.
Book Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Goodreads |
 
 

Meet the Author:

Samantha Joyce became an author because she much preferred writing about other people instead of herself. Then she was told she needed to write an author bio for her books and website, and her plan was thwarted. She’s the author of two adult romance books: Flirting with Fame and Dealing in Deception. She lives in Toronto, Ontario Canada, and when she is not writing, she’s baking pretty cakes or beading jewelry or sitting in the audience at many Broadway musicals. Samantha’s a hopeless romantic who loves writing about love. Her favorite thing in the world is making people laugh, so if you chuckle at least once while reading her books, this bio writing thing was worth it.
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