Spotlight & Giveaway: Somebody Worth Killing by Jessica Payne

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Jessica Payne to HJ!

Hi Jessica and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Somebody Worth Killing!

 
Hi bookish friends! I’m thrilled to share with you a little about my fun, funny, and feminist thriller featuring Nadia, a mom, wife, and secretly, an assassin.
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

Somebody Worth Killing features Nadia, who is kind of like Dexter, if Dexter was a mom intent on blending in to hide what she really is: a textbook psychopath and secretly, a professional killer. She hides in her identity as a mom and wife so she can keep doing the thing that makes her tick, killing bad people–all while slowly realizing that for her psychopath-like-ways, she actually is capable of love as she loves her children and her husband. But when she realizes she’s hit the glass ceiling of professional killers, she asks for a bigger job–which ends up being to kill her own husband, forcing her to decide between the family she loves or the job that feeds her psychopathic tendencies.
 

Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:

“My husband got the Beemer, but the minivan is surprisingly convenient. I can fit a whole body in the back.”

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• I spent a lot of time researching female psychopaths. For a long time, people thought women just didn’t have them in it to be the spectrum of sociopathy/psychopathy. In reality, it’s that women are just better at hiding it.
• In the book, my main character, Nadia, is an events planner as her cover for her real job of being an assassin. Originally, I’d written the early chapters as her being an adult toy salesperson–it gave lots of opportunities for humor!
• As a mom, I got to put a lot of real life experiences into this book–like how the school nurse ALWAYS calls the mom first. I wanted moms to feel seen.

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

Nadia and Brian are a married couple, but neither of them is actually who the other person thinks they are. They both have their secrets. I share a flashback scene of when they first met. Nadia met Brian after they both responded to a car accident–Brian, wanting to help the woman who was injured. Nadia, meanwhile, was attracted to the incident because she’s a psychopath and is always interested in events that blur the lines of life and death. She saw something in him that was similar to something in her. As a psychopath, she does not easily feel emotion for other people… but that moment ignited something between them.

Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?

“Nadia?” Brian’s familiar voice echoes through the halls, taunting.
Or maybe that’s my imagination.
Adrenaline floods my veins. Dopamine too. A cat-and-mouse
game with my husband? I hate it. I love it. My hands are slick with
sweat, and I wipe them on my shirt, grip my gun tighter, listen for
his footsteps. The light above me turns off, giving me some amount
of cover.
“That was not nice, Nadia,” Brian bites out, indignant.
I keep my mouth shut, still thinking through the facts. He was
in a weapons storage unit, for god’s sake. Ian’s an idiot, bringing
him here. It might be hidden. He might have torture devices and
weapons galore. But it also enabled Brian to get a weapon.
Lights whoosh on somewhere close. Brian? Ian? My pulse
races. I have no idea who I’m up against. If this is one‑on‑one,
or
if all three of us are out for one another.
It’s entirely possible Brian wants me dead.
Half of me wants to leave. I could sprint for the stairwell, probably
shove that door open and make it down the stairs before anyone
can put a bullet in me. The other half wants to play. Wants to
hunt. The monster welling up inside me emerging from the darkness
for the most fun she’s ever had.
A footstep squeaks too close, and I react without thinking—
spinning,
my gun raised, firing off one, two, three shots. I can’t
see his face, but he fires back, hitting the wall behind me. We both
dash for cover.
“Is this how it ends, Nadia? Is this what you had planned all
along?” Brian pants. “Who the fuck are you?” he bites out.
I breathe, do a mental inventory—
no
pain ricocheting through
my body. No blood dripping down to the floor beneath me.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I call. I have three rounds
left and no spare clip. It’s enough, but it would be better if I
. . .
Peering past the edge of my own hiding spot, I catch sight of
his elbow around a wall. The lights are already on, already illuminating
us. It’s a risk, but I start forward with careful, slow footsteps.
When I’m close enough, I wheel around the corner, smacking
his right wrist—
the
one that holds his gun—
hitting
him in a
pressure
point that forces him to drop it. The gun clatters to the
ground, and I use my own to smack him across the face with its
butt. He grunts in pain, and I yank my knee up, hitting him in the groin. But he doesn’t double over in pain and fall to the floor—
no,
he doubles over and drives his shoulder into my abdomen, tackling
me.
We hit the ground hard, my gun clattering to the concrete.
Brian straddles me in a position that usually means a very different
type of play. A thrill ripples through my body. I realize I’m grinning,
wanting to yank him close and kiss him as much as I want to
reach up and punch him. He must see it in my eyes because he
hesitates—
which
gives me just enough time to buck, throwing
him off, leap atop his back, and wrap my arm around his throat in
a choke hold.

Readers should read this book….

if they love thrillers. If they love a badass woman who is unapologetic about being morally gray. If they want to laugh.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

Somebody Worth Killing is getting a SECOND book, so I’ve been working on that. Somebody Worth Killing is out June 16, and the sequel is tentatively scheduled for fall 2027. Otherwise, I’m working on a new book in a new genre, which has been really fun!
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: One finished copy of Somebody Worth Killing by Jessica Payne.

To enter Giveaway, please share this post on your Socials and Leave a comment below to this Q: One thing I love is that Nadia has a dark side to her–as I think we all do. Women’s dark sides are not talked about nearly enough. So often we’re expected to seem perfect to the outside world. So let’s share one thing that we’re NOT perfect about, but honestly, that’s perfectly fine.

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Excerpt from Somebody Worth Killing:

I’m sharing chapter one. This has also been shared on Cosmopolitan.com

IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE FIRE ANTS CRAWLING UP MY LEG, I
would be thoroughly enjoying the evening. It’s another steamy
Texas night, the wind scented with oncoming rain, and I’m tucked
in the crook of a sprawling oak tree in the backyard of a multimillionaire’s
estate. He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to kill him.
A growl comes from my throat as the stream of fire ants climbs
my leg and begins to bite. I lower the rifle long enough to pick
them off, one by one—
easier
said than done, their little hooks dug
into my skin—
and
smash them, feeling no more remorse than I
will for the man I’m about to off. I wipe sweat—
and
melting
makeup—
from
my brow, fix my ponytail, and adjust my aim one
more time. I knew I should have worn waterproof mascara.
Through the scope, my target sips what looks like bourbon
from a highball glass, laughing as he talks on the phone and peers
inside his refrigerator. It irks me to do this from afar, to not get to
see the terror and panic in his eyes the moment before his life
ends. It may be justice, but it’s not enough. It never is for people
like him. Still, I catch myself smiling in anticipation, imagining
the next several minutes unfolding.
God, I love my job.
My finger plays over the trigger. I inhale, exhale, and—
My
ass vibrates.
“Damn it.” I drop my trigger hand, grab at my shuddering
phone shoved in the pocket of my workout tights. It’s hardly work
attire, but I’ll finish this job and look like one more yoga mom out
for a stroll, not the trained killer that I am.
“What?” I snap at my sister, annoyed at the interruption. I
peek through the scope, but my target has wandered off, out of the
kitchen. I swivel the gun, tracking him into his dining room, where
he proudly looks out at his lawn, one I’ll bet he’s never lifted a finger
to tend. I try not to fidget with impatience. The last thing I
need is to fall out of this damn tree.
“I know you’re working, but listen, Eliza just threw up again.
That’s the third time. I’m worried.” My sister’s voice yanks me from
the moment, like I’m surfacing from a fever dream. Follow‑up
questions about my daughter’s symptoms come to mind, but I swallow
them back. I’m working. I can’t do this right now.
“I’m at a—
a
wedding rehearsal. With a bridezilla,” I say. My
mark steps away from the window, out of view. “Fuck.”
“I thought you were at an actual wedding, and that’s why you
couldn’t stay home with your sick kid? Wait, are you allowed to say
‘fuck’ at a wedding?”
I pause, trying to remember what I’d told Piper over the phone
as I’d pleaded with her to come watch my daughters. “No, it’s a
wedding rehearsal. Who gets married on a Tuesday night?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never been married. Can you come home,
or what?”
“Did you try calling Brian?” I barely keep the frustration out
of my voice—
my
big sister is a lifesaver, but I can’t get a job done
without her calling, peppering me with questions. She doesn’t have kids—
never
wanted them—
and
makes for a wonderful aunt.
But she’s also terrified of screwing up. Little does she know, moms
do screw up, constantly, and I’m a prime example of that.
“Um, well, I mean, you’re the mom.”
And he’s the dad!
The tree trunk digs into my scalp as I lean my head against it
and squeeze my eyes shut. “She’s fine,” I say. This is one of those
situations when a parent would give the kid a Popsicle and send
them to bed, but Piper will worry herself sick, because to her,
children are basically foreign beings that are utterly fragile and
often disgusting. She’s not wrong about that second part.
“I think she’s dehydrated.” Piper’s voice is high, fast. In the
background, my five-year-old’s
baby voice—
not
her normal voice—
calls
for her mommy. That would be me; they both always want
me. I just have to wait until they’re older, then Piper will be the
fun aunt, the one who lets them try a sip of her wine. Or, you
know, pours them their own glass.
“She’s—”
My hand clenches around the rifle stock. Piper is
helping me, doing me a favor. I have to be nice; that’s how people
treat those who do them favors. “Okay, I’ll run by the store and
grab some Pedialyte.” And wine. “I’ll be there soon, okay?” We
disconnect.
Back to Mr. Rich Guy.
My phone tucked in my pocket, I look through the scope again,
but he’s gone. An empty stainless steel kitchen. A dining room table
that could seat sixteen. A bedroom with a perfectly tucked quilt.
And no mark.
I take a breath, tell myself to relax. He has to still be there. If
my sister calling for the umpteenth time is the thing that makes me
fail this job, I swear to god, I’ll—The
groan of an automatic door snatches my attention. Swiveling my viewfinder lower, to the driveway that snakes around the
home, I focus on the garage hidden in the back. He’s there, in his
khaki pants and fancy shoes, a diamond-​encrusted
watch that reflects
the light just so. I grin, flushed with relief and anxious to
continue.
Perhaps I make a noise. Or maybe he senses my presence—
death
lurking at the edge of his ten-​million-​dollar
property, waiting
for him. He looks up, squints against the outdoor lights, right
into the tree where I’ve made myself at home. His eyes widen as he
catches sight of me, my rifle. I smile, give him a little wave, then
return my hand to the gun and pull the trigger.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Meet Nadia Davis, a doting mom and loving wife who has a big secret: she’s actually an assassin. And she really needs a babysitter who shows up on time.

Nadia Davis is living the dream as a successful working mom with a career she loves, two adorable little girls, and a devoted husband who has no idea that she’s secretly a hired assassin and psychopath who kills certified bad guys. So when Nadia finds out she’s been “mommy tracked” by her assassin’s agency and is no longer getting the bigger, more exciting jobs, she demands an important mark…somebody worth killing.

But it turns out that big kill is the last person she expects—her husband. How is the sweet, kind, teller-of-dad jokes she’s promised her life to an evil villain who needs exterminating? Has their whole life together been a lie? Now Nadia must choose between the two things she loves most in life, the career that keeps her sane or the family she thought she knew.
Book Links: Book Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes | kobo | Google |
 
 

Meet the Author:

Jessica Payne lives in the Tacoma area of Washington State with her daughter and husband and an internet search history that would raise eyebrows. A firm believer in strong coffee and stronger women, she writes about mothers who know how to handle a sniper rifle and a carpool schedule with equal precision. When she’s not writing, you’ll find her trail running through the forests of the Pacific Northwest as she plots her next fictional murder. She has been featured on Cosmopolitan.com and People.com and is the author of the forthcoming novel Somebody Worth Killing.
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