Spotlight & Giveaway: The Dane of my Existence by Jessica Martin

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

Hi Jessica and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, The Dane of my Existence!

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

When the history and character of her Shakespeare-obsessed hometown is threatened, Portia, a powerhouse lawyer, goes toe to toe with Ben, a commercial developer with his eye on the town’s most beloved locale. Our girl is no stranger when it comes to going for the throat, but when Ben goes for her heart, Portia must decide—the town or Ben—or can she broker the deal of a lifetime and keep both?
 

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

Here is my favorite Portia and Ben exchange from their meet-ugly:

The guy didn’t back down, however. If anything, his grin intensified at the challenge. “It presents with notes of blood orange, lychee and damson plum, but it checks its own sweetness with paraffin and scorched earth.”
“So it drinks like waxy fruit?” I leaned a little closer so he could see me widen my eyes. “And you thought scorched earth would be a selling point?”
Those gray eyes shone with sly merriment. “With you? Yes. You strike me as a woman who goes unapologetically scorched earth when the mood strikes her.”
“It’s more like when the situation warrants it,” I corrected.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• I loved taking Portia, the boyfriend-stealing older sister from For The Love of the Bard, the first book in the Bard’s Rest series and positioning her front and center. I dare you not to fall in love with her.
• Portia does not love dogs yet…who can resist a bedraggled pup you rescue in the woods armed with nothing but an umbrella?
• Finally, I always like to work a little of myself into my characters, the adoration of Bruce “the Chin” Campbell is genuine, my friends.

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

Portia and Ben are like sharks—two apex predators who spot each other coming a mile away, neither willing to swerve out of the other’s path. Their banter is a battlefield and a constant one-upmanship—until it’s more.

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

I decided to write an edgier sex scene this time, and even editing the thing had me look over my shoulder to ensure I wasn’t corrupting today’s youth. I also keep picturing the talented actress who gives voice to the Bard Rest’s series and thinking of her having to read this one aloud…sorry, Gilli! Hope you like it hot.

Readers should read this book….

I loved taking Portia, the boyfriend-stealing older sister from For The Love of the Bard and making you fall in love with her like I did. I also love the idea of the reluctant hero—Portia is a fish out of water in her hometown—but that doesn’t stop her from stepping up when the town needs someone with her unique set of skills.

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

I am currently working on a new quippy rom-com. Very hush-hush.
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: 1 Print copy of THE DANE OF MY EXISTENCE by Jessica Martin

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: When we first meet Portia, she’s overwhelmed by the thought of taking a summer off before she starts her new gig as a managing partner in the fall…what would you do with a summer to yourself?

 
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Excerpt from The Dane of my Existence:

Coming in somewhere north of six feet, Chris loomed tall and lean, with dark skin and amber eyes. These days, he sported a thin mustache, which he insisted he’d grown to look more partner-like, but really, I thought he did it to drive Callie nuts.
He and I had grown up together in the office as freshly minted summer associates and only slighter wiser first-years. We’d both been fast-tracked to senior associates and made partner the same year, two years ahead of our peers. We’d been colleagues and late-night- Thai-in-the-office buddies and occasional rivals. When the opportunity for managing partner in Boston’s satellite office came up, I assumed it would come down to one of us. But to my surprise, Chris had bowed out early in the process. “Boston does not deserve my Black daughters,” he’d told me. “That city has some serious growing

up to do.” And though I respected his decision, I would miss him, and that was not something I said of most people. Okay, anyone. I didn’t say that about anyone.
“Do you have a game plan yet?” Chris demanded. “So you don’t go all Annie Wilkes in the backwoods?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t live in the backwoods of New Hampshire.”
“Portia, there are no Orangetheories or Williams Sonomas within a fifty-mile radius. Face it, you’re in the backwoods.”
“Says the guy who grew up eating grits and gators,” I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest. But not too tight. Wrinkles were unseemly.
“Don’t distract me,” Chris said with a grin. “I know all your moves. Now, what is the game plan for your sabbatical? You know Gerald will make you take the full three months.”
“Sit around in my sweatpants and eat ice cream?”
“You don’t own sweatpants and I’ve never seen you eat ice cream.” “I own yoga pants and have been known to put away my fair
share of gelato.”
His eyes widened to comedic proportions. “I am in the presence of a rebel.”
I sighed. “I’ve been a little busy closing matters here and making sure the transition team is on top of everything in Boston. I haven’t really had time to think of a plan.”
“Bullshit. You show up to bagel Fridays with a plan.”
While he wasn’t wrong (thin-sliced pumpernickel bagels or bust), I didn’t think he’d approve much of my paltry plans for the summer, which included little more than brushing up on a couple of management books and TED talks on leadership. I still held out hope that Gerald would drop this whole sabbatical business. This place needed me. He needed me.
“I suppose I’ll let my mother put me to work on the festival,” I hedged. But even as I said it, my throat tightened with that familiar squeeze of anxiety I felt when I thought of my mother. Well, not specifically my mother per se, but her health. A little more than a

year ago, she’d found a lump. A lump that had turned out to be stage two breast cancer and had required surgery and ongoing chemotherapy to treat it. I hadn’t told anyone at work about it. Not even Chris. When you shared bad news like this with coworkers, they would go all kid-glove on you, and that could translate to a loss of opportunities. Hard pass.
“Callie and the girls are excited to come to the festival this year,” Chris said, slicing through my thoughts. “Thank you for the invite.”
“I noticed you didn’t include yourself in that list.” He shrugged. “Shakespeare’s not my bag.”
“Mine either,” I told him with a conspiratorial smile. “But home is home, whether that’s grits and gators or a bunch of ex–English majors running wild in farthingales and codpieces and sporting bad British accents.”
Chris snorted. “So your plan to not succumb to Shakespearean madness is . . .”
“I have hobbies.” “Name one.” “Running.”
“That’s not a hobby. That’s masochistic. Name another.” “Swimming.”
“Where are you going to swim in the backwoods?” Chris demanded. “You don’t strike me as a skinny-dip-in-the-creek kind of person.”
“The creek has eels in it.” I shuddered. “Ill-advised skinny-dipping aside, I’ll figure something out. On the drive home.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he let me off the hook all the same. I really admired that about Chris. You could tell he saw everything, but he didn’t always feel the need to call you out on it. “Well, I can’t say I’ll miss you,” I said, repeating the exact words we’d exchanged when we’d parted ways after our summer associateship, neither of us knowing at the time whether we’d be invited back to FrancisPearl as first-years.
“I won’t miss you in the slightest either,” he said, falling into our

routine. “I certainly won’t be picking up the phone to call or text you.”
“Not at all. I’ve already deleted your number from my contacts.
You know how I feel about clutter.”
“I won’t even say take care of yourself.” “That would be beneath you,” I agreed.
He smiled broadly. “See you in August. But if I show up and you’re running around in a corset with a decidedly unposh accent . . . I’m not even turning the car off. That’s how art house horror flicks start.”
“Fair enough. Give my love to Callie and the girls,” I called with a blithe smile as I walked out of the office of the only person at FrancisPearl I considered a friend.

Excerpted from THE DANE OF MY EXISTENCE by Jessica Martin, published by Berkley, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House, LLC. Copyright © 2023

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Portia Barnes is the youngest managing partner in her law firm’s history, and she and her stilettos are poised to step into the role of her dreams—leading the firm’s new Boston office. But first she’s taking a summer sabbatical in her hometown of Bard’s Rest, New Hampshire, where she discovers something’s rotten in the midst of the town’s annual Shakespeare festival.

Hotshot commercial developer Benjamin Dane is sniffing around Bard’s, and while Portia isn’t necessarily a Shakespeare fanatic like the rest of her family, she’s not about to let him bulldoze the town’s beloved outdoor theater. Yet to Portia’s dismay, Ben proves as skilled as she is when it comes to outworking, outmaneuvering, and one-upping the competition. While she’s never hesitated to wage war against hyper-successful alpha males, Portia is caught off guard by Ben’s openness and lack of arrogance. As her own long-constructed walls start to come down, Portia begins to wonder if he might be more than an archnemesis.

With her heart on the line and the future of the town hanging in the balance, Portia faces an impossible decision—Ben or Bard’s?—unless she finds a way to broker the merger of her life, and ensures the curtain falls on a happy ending for everyone.
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Meet the Author:

Jessica Martin is a lawyer by trade, a writer by choice, and a complete smart-ass by all accounts. Based in the suburban wilds of Boston, Jess shares her life with a finance geek, a small sass-based human, and a pair of dogs named after Bond characters.
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