Spotlight & Giveaway: The Truth According to Ember by Danica Nava

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Danica Nava to HJ!

Hi Danica and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, The Truth According to Ember!

 
Chokma Readers!
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

The Truth According to Ember is a contemporary romantic comedy that follows Ember Lee Cardinal (Chickasaw) as she navigates her life in Oklahoma City, OK trying to find a job that pays a livable wage. Her brother gets in trouble with the law and she uses her life’s savings for his bail and misses his hearing; she loses the money she needs to complete her education. With limited options she decides to lie on her resume (with the help of her best friend) and check the “Caucasian” box on the ethnicity question on job applications. Her new strategy works and she lands her dream accounting job where she meets her dream man, IT guy Danuwoa (Cherokee). She adds yet another lie on her ever growing list to keep her job.
 

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

This is out of context but it makes me laugh every single time:
“Can’t I just play some bowling?”

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

I am Chickasaw and this is the first time readers are going to read a contemporary romantic comedy starring Native characters written by a Native author. This book is full of jokes and so much heart.

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

Danuwoa is attracted by Ember’s casual beauty, and her clumsiness. Her lies intrigue him and he is almost a human lie detector, much to Ember’s chagrin. Ember is immediately attracted to Danuwoa. He is a hunk–period. His long, gorgeous hair, his eyes, his height. But under all his beauty, Danuwoa is a complete cinnamon roll dork with a wicked sense of humor.

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

I laughed throughout writing this book and there are moments that made me sob. The sex scenes I can barely read, because Danuwoa took charge and those scenes wrote themselves.

“He knelt before his backpack, and I admired his braise falling on his naked back, long dark arrows pointing down to his perfect bare ass.
‘Got it!’ He turned around, shaking a condom foil back and forth in his hand, his smile still glistening from my arousal.
He stood and ripped the foil open. ‘Close your mouth,’ he chuckled.
I was nearly drooling watching as he rolled the condom over his hardness.”

Readers should read this book….

to read about Natives in the contemporary context. We live full, funny lives and deserve happily ever afters in the pages of major romance too. Read this book because it’s funny and full of so much heart. Read this book to laugh and discover the beauty of Oklahoma.

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

My second book is titled LOVE IS A WAR SONG and it comes out Summer of 2025. Once again this is a contemporary romantic comedy starring Native characters but we see a different part of Oklahoma. I am not allowed to share too much yet, but just know it’s funny, but might make more people cry. Sorry, not sorry.
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: A print copy of THE TRUTH ACCORDING TO EMBER by Danica Nava

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Have you ever told a lie to get ahead at a job?

 
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Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from The Truth According to Ember 

I walked into the warm embrace of that plastic cheese and bowling alley floor wax smell. I wasn’t an overly sentimental person, but a part of me would miss this musty old place. Bowling balls thundered along the lanes and collided with the dense maple pins; the sound of the impact ricocheted off the walls. Kids ran around screaming as adults milled about drinking their beer from clear plastic cups. The dollar-a-song jukebox was blasting “Pour Some Sugar on Me” while some rowdy guys, clearly already drunk, rocked on, fists pumping in the air.
“Great, you two are here.” Bobby Dean, the man, the myth, and the legend of the bowling alley himself, dared to acknowledge me. He wore his patched and overworn denim vest over a black T-shirt, his graying hair combed back in an Elvis-inspired pompadour.
“Hey, Bobby Dean, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked, and he ignored me.
“Joanna,” he started, pointing with his thumb behind him. “The bar needs help. Ember, the men’s toilet is backed up and we have a full house.”
He started walking away.
“Wait!” I called.
“Get to it,” he threw over his shoulder, and he was gone.
“Rotten luck.” Joanna gave me a salute and got to work.
If I didn’t need the money, I would have just walked out, but as it stood, I was starting a new job, and I wouldn’t have tips or anything holding me over until my first paycheck. This last shift was gas and food money for me. Stupid cheap-ass Bobby Dean and his shitty plumbing.
I grumbled on my way to the back where the supply closet was nestled between the men’s and women’s bathrooms to get the plunger and toilet auger. That’s right. I was about to snake a goddamn toilet.
On my way, I spotted a tall Native man sporting one long braid down his back. My heart lurched, and I ducked behind a family with three kids picking out their bowling balls. It was irrational to assume that just because this man was tall and had a long braid that it was somehow Danuwoa, but I didn’t want to stick around and confirm that it was him. The family finished grabbing their selections, and to my right was the Little Big Horns league on lane two. Like a cartoon thief, I hunched over on hurried feet.
Of the five retired men, Bucky was the slimmest. I turned over my shoulder and couldn’t see the possible Danuwoa lookalike anywhere. I ducked down behind the bulky ball return hood.
I was met with curious looks.
“What’re you doing down there, Ember?” Ron, the leader and former semiprofessional bowler, asked. He was sitting next to Bucky.
I ignored his question to ask my own. “Bucky, if I give you ten bucks, will you let me borrow your shirt?”
“Did you fall and hit your head?” He sounded bewildered. The rest of the men laughed.
“What do you care? Has a woman ever wanted to pay you to take your clothes off before?” Leroy quipped.
“Just your mom,” Bucky said.
Damn, even I laughed out loud at that one.
“Yeah, she said she wants her money back. Don’t waste your time with him,” Leroy said to me as he moved his hat, which said NATIVE VETERAN on it, down over his face to hide his laugh.
I peeked over the hood and found, to my dismay, that it was definitely Danuwoa; I could not mistake his profile and jawline. He was at lane six with a group of girls, their ages unclear from this angle. I ducked down again before he could feel someone staring at him.
“I’ll up it to fifteen dollars, please?” I hoped my puppy dog eyes would do the trick.
“Why?” They all leaned forward in their seats.
“Fifteen dollars and free beer, you don’t need to know why.”
Ron and Leroy screamed, “Done!” They began lifting Bucky’s shirt off him, ignoring his protests and wiggles. Finally, the shirt was free, leaving poor old Bucky in a dingy tank. Leroy threw me Bucky’s Little Big Horns shirt with his name embroidered on the right breast. Immediately, I threw it on over my work top and sniffed my underarms.
“Gross, Bucky! This smells like you haven’t washed it in weeks.”
“I haven’t.” He took a sip of his beer while the others laughed.
Was it worse to be caught working here or worse for Danuwoa to catch a whiff of me smelling like a drunk, dirty, sweaty old man? I stood up and saw that it was Danuwoa’s turn. He was focused on the pins, and while his attention was diverted, I scurried over to the bar to inform Joanna of this unfortunate development.
“The fuck are you wearing? Did the toilet splash you again?” she asked me.
“No!” I ducked under the bar and pulled her to the small corner for the illusion of privacy.
“Ember, you stink! Did you fall into the toilet?” She held her nose.
“Danuwoa is here.”
“The hot IT guy from your new job? That Danuwoa?”
“Do we know of another?”
“Chill. What’s the problem?”
“He can’t find out I work here. I lied on my application to get that job. If he let it slip that I worked here, it will all unravel.”
“Is that why you stole Bucky’s jersey?”
“I was desperate.”
“Don’t ever repeat that.” Joanna ducked down under the cash register and opened her tackle box full of jewelry. She lifted the top tray full of earrings and dug around. “Aha! Here!” She thrust her old Victoria’s Secret body spray at me.
“I hate Love Spell,” I grumbled.
“Love Spell or poop. Which would you prefer to smell like?”
I groaned.
“Which would you prefer Danuwoa smell?”
I spritzed the spray from my head to my feet and gave two extra pumps under my arms. It was so strong and artificial smelling that it instantly gave me a pulsing headache behind my eyes. To my nose, I smelled worse.
“It’s worse.” Joanna coughed and gagged in confirmation.
Great. I turned around, and Danuwoa stood in front of me on the other side of the bar, leaning on his forearms. He looked just as surprised to see me.
“Danuwoa! Hi!”
“Ember? Do you work here?” He tilted his head in confusion.
“No, she doesn’t!” Joanna pushed me under the counter.
“Danuwoa, this is my best friend, Joanna. She works here.” I popped up from under the counter. Danuwoa took a step back away from me.
“Hey,” he said, waving to her. “What’s that smell?”
I laughed. I laughed the cringiest and fakest of laughs and changed the subject, because what could I say that would make any sense? I promised myself I would be honest after I landed that job and here I was, lying again. “What brings you here?”
“I brought my sister and her friends to play. We’re wrapping up. What about you?”
“I’m in a bowling league and we’re playing.”
“This I have to see. Which lane?”
“We were just taking a break.”
“Is that so? I’d love to meet your teammates, Bucky.” He read the name at my breast, saying the name like it was a dare. A challenge.
“Yeah, Bucky, go introduce Danuwoa to the gang,” Joanna said, snickering.
“Um . . . well . . .” I was stalling, and in my indecisive state, I spotted Bobby Dean talking to a few regulars by the entrance. Shit! I hadn’t fixed the men’s toilet. “Sure. Let’s go.” I grabbed Danuwoa’s arm and used him as my very large human shield to hide from Bobby Dean. Once we passed the line for food, I dropped his arm.
“Are you hiding from someone?”
“What? Me? No.”
He lifted his eyebrow, and it said it all: Why the hell are you acting so weird?
I could only give a fake smile in response. This was a deep, deep grave I just dug.
“How did you get the nickname Bucky?”
“I really love deer.”
“So, no buckteeth when you were a kid?”
Buckteeth! Damn, that was good. I should have thought of that. “Nope, never needed braces. Just love good ol’ Bambi.”
He stopped short. “What’s really going on, Bucky?”
“My weekly bowling league game is all. Why?”
“You’re acting weird, and you smell disgusting.”
“What a rude thing to say to a lady you hardly know.” I crossed my arms. We were surrounded by families and the loud crashes of pins falling.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Bucky, take me to your team.” He kept saying Bucky like he was waiting for me to crack and admit the farce. I doubled down.
“Thank you, right this way.” We walked to lane two, snaking through the crowd. The real Bucky was missing. What a blessing.
“Hey, hey!” Leroy exclaimed as he slammed his elbow into Ron’s side.
“Hey, Bucky! We’ve been waiting. It’s your turn.” They all were laughing. Sure enough, Bucky’s name was blinking on the screen. The real Bucky was going to hate me for this. These men were serious about their game and their points. I just hoped the free beer would smooth it over.
Working at a bowling alley for three years meant I was pretty good at bowling. But these men were semiprofessional, and all used their own heavy balls with huge finger holes. It was like the macho man contest of whose dick was bigger, but with who had the largest and heaviest bowling ball.
Bucky’s was a shimmering green with his name engraved in cursive. I lifted it with my knees and slowly made my way to the top of the lane. It was so heavy, there was no way I could wind my arm back. I wasn’t proud of it, but I used both hands and I granny-pushed that thing from between my legs and watched as the ball smoothly and slowly rolled its way straight into the pins.
Lucky Bucky! I got a strike! The men grumbled, clearly hoping I’d lose the game for him, but he was now in the lead.
“Shitass,” Leroy cursed under his breath as I walked back to Danuwoa.
“Not bad, Bucky,” he said, biting his lip.
“You can just call me Ember.”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the real Bucky hobbled over in his white tank.
“Hey Ember, did you know the men’s toilet is backed up again?” He took the empty seat next to Ron.
“Thanks for the TMI, man!” I yelled over my shoulder. “These guys are a hoot.” I rolled my eyes at Danuwoa.
“Should we get the manager?” he asked.
“This place is a dump; they know about it.”
He shook his head and smiled. “I need to get back to my sister. It looks like they’re done. I’ll catch you at the office, Bucky.” He winked and went back to lane six.
I watched Danuwoa as he sexy walked his fine ass over to the group of girls. They were changing their shoes. I pretended to be deep in conversation with the Little Big Horns as they left.
“Ember!” Bobby Dean barked as he found me. “Get over here.”
I ripped Bucky’s shirt over my head and threw it back at him. “Thanks, I’ll get you another round of beer.”
“Hey, Bobby—”
“Cut the shit. Why isn’t the bathroom fixed?”
“There was a ball stuck in lane two that I just got out. I’m heading to clean up the men’s room right now.”
“Good, take this out back on your way.” He handed me a full black trash bag and turned to leave.
“Wait! I have to tell you that tonight has to be my last shift. I’m starting a new job.”
“All right. Get your shifts covered.” He turned on his heel and headed to the bar.
Three years and not so much as a thank you for your efforts. Whatever. After tonight I was done. No more late nights cleaning the bathroom that college kids messed up while hooking up or getting high. No more dealing with entitled moms throwing birthday parties for their kids. And no more ass-grabby old men who loitered all day drinking three-dollar beer.
I dragged the trash out back, propping the door open with the mop bucket before swinging back the trash bag, preparing to launch it right into the dumpster.
Meow!
I screamed, releasing the trash bag too early—it missed by a mile. The orange tabby cat that haunted this dumpster rose on its haunches, hissing.
I hissed back.
“Fucking demon cat,” I muttered. I bent to retrieve the trash, and the damn cat pounced. I only managed to jump back before it could get its claws in my jeans. It had happened before. The mangy thing scared the shit out of me. My nose started tingling and my eyes watered. I was allergic, and this cat, in particular, was beyond demented.
I left the trash on the ground in front of the dumpster and retreated inside to relative safety.
I fucking hated cats.
I plunged and snaked the toilet, breathing through my mouth and wiping my runny nose on my sleeve. It was not glamorous work. After I washed my hands, the rest of my last shift passed by in a blur. It was time to close, and someone had put on “Okie from Muskogee,” a Merle Haggard standard, and we all sang off-key as I started shutting down the bowling alley for the last time.

Excerpt. ©Danica Nava. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

A Chickasaw woman who can’t catch a break serves up a little white lie that snowballs into much more in this witty and irresistible rom-com by debut author Danica Nava.

Ember Lee Cardinal has not always been a liar—well, not for anything that counted at least. But her job search is not going well and when her resumé is rejected for the thirty-seventh time, she takes matters into her own hands. She gets “creative” listing her qualifications and answers the ethnicity question on applications with a lie—a half-lie, technically. No one wanted Native American Ember, but white Ember has just landed her dream accounting job on Park Avenue (Oklahoma City, that is).

Accountant Ember thrives in corporate life—and her love life seems to be looking up too: Danuwoa Colson, the IT guy and fellow Native who caught her eye on her first day, seems to actually be interested in her too. Despite her unease over the no-dating policy at work, they start to see each other secretly, which somehow makes it even hotter? But when they’re caught in a compromising position on a work trip, a scheming colleague blackmails Ember, threatening to expose their relationship. As the manipulation continues to grow, so do Ember’s lies. She must make the hard decision to either stay silent or finally tell the truth, which could cost her everything.
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Meet the Author:

Danica Nava is an enrolled citizen of the Chickasaw Nation and works as an Executive Assistant in the tech industry. She has her MBA from USC Marshall School of Business. She currently lives in Southern California with her husband and daughter. The Truth According to Ember is her debut novel. You can find her on Instagram at the handle @danica_nava.
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