Rory Ni Coileain on Blowing Smoke (SoulShares #5) ~ Blog Tour, Excerpt, Interview, Rafflecopter Giveaway

Prism Book Alliance® would like to thank Rory Ni Coileain for stopping by today.


Title: Blowing Smoke (SoulShares #5)

Author: Rory Ni Coileain

Publisher: *Not Listed

Cover Artist: Insatiable Designs

Genre: Erotica, Fantasy, Romance, Urban Fantasy


Series should be read in order

Lasair Faol, Master of the Fade-Hounds to the Royal court of the Demesne of Fire in the Fae Realm, has been exiled to the human world by the Princess Consort for failing to catch her son’s kidnapper. Bryce Newhouse, Greenwich Village investment banker, is universally loathed by all who know him. Generally, he’s perfectly cool with that, but he discovers what he’s been missing—literally—when he finds Lasair chained in his basement.
Bryce was supposed to receive half of Lasair’s soul at his birth, but thanks to the Fae of Purgatory, the Pattern—portal between the worlds—has been damaged, and Bryce’s soul arrived thirty-one years too late. Now the exiled Fae is the shunned human’s only hope of healing his broken past. And with the fate of two worlds riding on that healing, Lasair is going to have to overcome both his race’s innate mistrust of genuine emotion and his own very unFae awkwardness, to have any chance of reaching Bryce’s impenetrable heart.

Book Trailer:

Do you have any strange writing habits? Does automatically leaving a cat-sized space between myself and my computer when I sit down count? There’s really no point to trying to sit up next to the keyboard….

Just as your books will inspire others, what books have inspired you? Tanith Lee’s Tales from the Flat Earth, Diane Duane’s Tale of the Five and Young Wizards series, anything Jane Yolen ever wrote, but especially Sister Light, Sister Dark and its sequels, and Ursula K. LeGuin’s Always Coming Home.

What do you consider to be your best accomplishment (writing or life)? I suppose the standard mom line at this point would be something along the lines of “raising an amazing son”. But my amazing son would probably roll his eyes hard enough to sprain them if he caught me describing him as an accomplishment winks So I guess I’ll go with realizing my earliest childhood dream, becoming a writer. Learning how to create worlds and characters that hold other people’s imaginations the way the writers who inspired me held, and still hold, mine.

Where do you see yourself in ten years? Two years from retirement, anticipatorily perusing apartment listings on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. TINY apartments. Maybe married again, if I can find someone whose quirks work with mine…

If you had a super power, what would it be? I already have one, it’s called being the mother of a teenager and having not killed anyone yet. I only get that one for another year, though, then he ages out….


Bryce straightened, stepping out of his trousers and nudging them aside with a foot. He blushed faintly, smiling a little, when he saw how intensely Lasair was watching him.

“I want more of that smile,” Lasair murmured, letting his leggings fall and drawing Bryce close.

“You’re looking at my smile?”

“You sound surprised.” Lasair captured both of their cocks in a curled hand and started a gentle pumping; the strange delight rippled through him, and he felt Bryce shudder with it at the same time.

“Most men would be looking somewhere else, under the circumstances.” Bryce’s blush deepened.

Their loss and I plan to eventually warred with one another, and in the end Lasair said neither; he simply took Bryce’s mouth again, urging him back toward the chair and following him down. He slid one hand down the underside of Bryce’s thigh, urging his leg up. Surely the human was limber enough to hook a leg over Lasair’s shoulder—

“Wait, wait, hold on.” Bryce stiffened, forcing Lasair back. “I don’t bareback on a first date, I don’t care what world you think you’re from.”

“You don’t… what?” Lasair blinked, frowned. How did horses suddenly get involved?

“No sex without a condom.” Apparently Lasair’s blank look was finally registering with Bryce. “Jesus. Are you going to tell me you don’t know what a condom is?”

“I don’t think I need to, since you’ve obviously already figured that out.”

Bryce’s mouth opened, closed; he shook his head, as if he had something else he wanted to say but was thinking better of it, and hooked his trousers with a bare foot.

Lasair’s brows arched as the human’s quick search through his trouser pockets yielded a small circle in a thin square wrapping. “I’m anxious to discover what that has to do with either horses or sex toys.”

“Horses?” Now it was Bryce’s turn to stare blankly.

Lasair took the little package away from Bryce and held it between thumb and forefinger, studying it. “You were the one who mentioned barebacking. I’d be glad to saddle you if you want, it wouldn’t be the first time, but I don’t see how you’d use this thing to—“

Bryce’s sudden laughter warmed Lasair all the way to his suddenly curled toes, flooding him with the joy he’d sought even as it brought his arousal back to its peak.

“You are fucking priceless, Rapunzel.” There was no hint of sarcasm in Bryce’s voice, no scorn, only laughter, and his smile was every bit as breathtaking as Lasair had imagined. Something had opened in the human, some barrier lowered. “Here, let me. Watch and learn.”

About the Author

Rory Ni Coileain has been writing almost as long as she’s been reading, and reading almost as long as she’s been talking. She majored in creative writing in college, back when Respectable Colleges didn’t offer such a major, so she designed it herself—being careful to ensure that she never had to take a class before nine in the morning or take a Hemingway survey course.

She graduated Phi Beta Kappa at the age of nineteen, sent off her first short story to an anthology being assembled by an author she idolized, received the kind of rejection letter that fuels decades of therapy, and found other things to do for the next thirty years or so, including nightclub singing, working as a volunteer lawyer for Gay Men’s Health Crisis, and studying ballet in New York City, until her stories grabbed her by the shirt collar and announced they were back.

Now she’s a legal editor, a soprano in her church choir and the St. Mark’s Cathedral Choral Society (unless they’re singing Mozart, because she’s decided that Mozart didn’t like sopranos very much), the mother of a teenaged son, Brony, and budding film-maker (all wrapped up in one amazing offspring), and amanuensis to a host of Fae, Gille Dubh, and shapeshifters who are all anxious to tell their stories, and some of whom aren’t very good at waiting their turns.

Where to find the author:


Facebook Author Page:

Twitter: RoryNi



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Farewell Giveaway
I have a number of paperbacks, most of which are signed, to giveaway. Over the between now (11 Mar 2017) and 31 Mar 2017, every comment on the blog (this post and all other new posts), will be entered to win 1 of these paperbacks. There are also some misc swag items, so there will be a few packs of these to give away as well.

Thank you so much for your support over the last 4 years. Prism will be closing its doors on 1 April 2017. All content will remain available, but no new content will appear after 31 Mar 2017. As such all request forms have been turned off. Again Thank you,

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