Please help me welcome Suzanne Johnson to my blog today. Suzanne is interviewing a characher from her novel River Road. Be sure and leave her a comment to be entered into the prize drawing. She’s giving away the winner’s choice of a signed print book or ebook of either River Road or the first book in the series, Royal Street, US and Canada.

The Diabolical Plans of the Pirate Jean Lafitte of River Road

(as told to Suzanne Johnson)

Bonjour, mes amies. Je m’appelle Jean…Bah. You wish this to be in English? (Makes snarly face at the lowly author transcribing his words onto a laptop, who nods.)

Very well. My name is Jean Lafitte, and in the year 1806, as a young man of twenty-six, I arrived in the city of New Orleans—Nouvelle Orleans sounds so much nicer, do you not think? (Lowly author nods, since she has learned it’s much easier to just agree with whatever he says.)

Within a decade, I became the most famous privateer to sail the waters of the Gulf of Mexico and had a thousand men at my command on the coast of Louisiana. (Lowly author pipes up: Most people know you as a pirate.)

Bah. History has called me a pirate, but I simply took what belonged to the Spanish, and they are mongrels, oui? You must stop interrupting me, Jolie. (Lowly author swoons slightly at the endearment, issued in a deep, husky baritone with sexy accent.)

Now, where was I? Ah, oui. I was quite the handsome man, and many women wished to enjoy my company. As I am quite kind and considerate, I attempted to accommodate as many as possible. (Lowly author rolls eyes.)

Of course, my human life reached an unfortunate end. But imagine my surprise when—voila!—I was given a second, immortal life through the power of human memory. Now, I one of a group of formerly famous individuals known as the Historical Undead.

What do I do with my unlimited time, one might ask? Before the hurricane named Katrina, the borders between the Beyond, where I live along with other members of the Historical Undead (as well as such unsavory creatures as vampires and elves), were enforced by the wizards. If I wish to enter modern New Orleans to conduct business or enjoy the company of a young lady, I was forced to wait for someone with magical abilities to summon me. Often, these were strange young people who expected me to look like someone they call “Johnny Depp” or “Jack Sparrow.” I do not know these blackguards, although I issue an open invitation to duel with this Captain Sparrow or Monsieur Depp should either be brave enough to face me. (Lowly author considers trying to explain such newfangled things as movies, but decides against it.)

And as soon as I set foot into modern New Orleans, the local wizard sentinel would chase me down and send me back to the Beyond. How was a privateer to conduct business when he must constantly elude capture by a wizard?

Yet I have devised a plan. The current sentinel, a lovely young woman named Drusilla, is quite susceptible my considerable charmes romantique. I shall be plying her with my charm in order to establish my local business with the mermen of New Orleans. We will have a very profitable trade of goods between the Beyond and modern New Orleans.

I shall become even wealthier and more powerful. And if the wizardess DJ rejects my advances, of course, will be forced to take action. For to refuse the famous pirate Jean Lafitte? It could be deadly, n’est-ce pas?

(Lowly author points out that if he kills the heroine of this urban fantasy series before the first book is released, it will be a very short series indeed.)

Blurb/Book Description for RIVER ROAD:>

Hurricane Katrina is long gone, but the preternatural storm rages on in New Orleans. New species from the Beyond moved into Louisiana after the hurricane destroyed the borders between worlds, and it falls to wizard sentinel Drusilla Jaco and her partner, Alex Warin, to keep the preternaturals peaceful and the humans unaware. But a war is brewing between two clans of Cajun merpeople in Plaquemines Parish, and down in the swamp, DJ learns, there’s more stirring than angry mermen and the threat of a were-gator.
Wizards are dying, and something—or someone—from the Beyond is poisoning the waters of the mighty Mississippi, threatening the humans who live and work along the river. DJ and Alex must figure out what unearthly source is contaminating the water and who—or what—is killing the wizards. Is it a malcontented merman, the naughty nymph, or some other critter altogether? After all, DJ’s undead suitor, the pirate Jean Lafitte, knows his way around a body or two.
It’s anything but smooth sailing on the bayou as the Sentinels of New Orleans series continues.

Excerpt:

The minute hand of the ornate grandfather clock crept like a gator stuck in swamp mud. I’d been watching it for half an hour, nursing a fizzy cocktail from my perch inside the Hotel Monteleone. The plaque on the enormous clock claimed it had been hand- carved of mahogany in 1909, about 130 years after the birth of the undead pirate waiting for me upstairs.
They were both quite handsome, but the clock was a lot safer.
The infamous Jean Lafitte had expected me at seven. He’d summoned me to his French Quarter hotel suite by courier like I was one of his early nineteenth-century wenches, and I hated to destroy his pirate-king delusions, but the historical undead don’t summon wizards. We summon them.
I’d have blown him off if my boss on the Congress of Elders hadn’t ordered me to comply and my co-sentinel, Alex, hadn’t claimed a prior engagement.
At seven thirty, I abandoned my drink, took a deep breath, and marched through the lobby toward the bank of elevators.
On the long dead-man-walking stroll down the carpeted hallway, I imagined all the horrible requests Jean might make. He’d saved my life a few years ago, after Hurricane Katrina sent the city into freefall, and I hadn’t seen him since. I’d been desperate at the time. I might have promised him unfettered access to modern New Orleans in exchange for his assistance. I might have promised him a place to live. I might have promised him things I don’t even remember. In other words, I might be totally screwed.
I reached the door of the Eudora Welty Suite and knocked, reflecting that Jean Lafitte probably had no idea who Eudora Welty was, and wouldn’t like her if he did. Ms. Welty had been a modern sort of woman who wouldn’t hop to attention when summoned by a scoundrel.
He didn’t answer immediately. I’d made him wait, after all, and Jean lived in a tit- for- tat world. I paused a few breaths and knocked harder. Finally, he flung open the door, waving me inside to a suite plush with tapestries of peach and royal blue, thick carpet that swallowed the narrow heels of my pumps, and a plasma TV he couldn’t possibly know how to operate. What a waste.
“You have many assets, Drusilla, but apparently a respect for time is not among them.” Deep, disapproving voice, French accent, broad shoulders encased in a red linen shirt, long dark hair pulled back into a tail, eyes such a cobalt blue they bordered on navy. And technically speaking, dead.
He was as sexy as ever.

Author Bio:
Suzanne Johnson writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance from Auburn, Alabama, after a career in educational publishing that has spanned five states and six universities. She grew up halfway between the Bear Bryant Museum and Elvis’ birthplace and lived in New Orleans for fifteen years, so she has a highly refined sense of the absurd and an ingrained love of SEC football and fried gator on a stick.