blog tour

Teaser Tuesday: Cuddling My Chuchunya

 

Book 1 of Snuggling in Siberia

 

Monster Romance

Date Published: 01-13-2023

 

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

 

Dr. Vera Thompson

I am one reindeer sleigh ride away from academic notoriety and the corpse
excavation which will catapult my career from junior anthropology fellow to
tenured professor. Crossing the Siberian tundra is not for the faint of
heart but with modern technology like a GPS, cell phone signal, and
all-climate winter gear, I’ll reach the suspected Australopithecus
body unearthed by the melting permafrost. One more day of dodging methane
gas pockets under the ice and my life will change forever…

 

Artyom

The hairless ones swarmed around my brother’s body like flies from
the southern land. Tradition dictates his next of kin perform his last
rites, so I follow the erratic driving of the hairless ones from a foreign
land. If these invaders discover my chuchunya clan, I fear we are too few to
defend our territory under the ice. I don’t understand why the sled
driver throws his passenger into a ground popper, but the cruel deed
activates my coupling (dushevnayasvyaz) instincts to heat my body to an
inferno…the first sign of a soul bond…

Stuck between loyalty to his clan’s secrecy and his biology, will
Artyom trade injured Vera for Denis’s body? Will Vera choose modern
conveniences in Ohio or stay in Siberia with the chuchunya who promises to
cherish her? In such an unforgiving landscape, will Artyom prove his
dushevnayasvyaz by pushing her toward an easier life, even if her leaving
breaks both their hearts?

This book is for adults with cursing characters, mild violence, and steamy
romantic scenes between a consenting human and a monster. To survive while
isolated in Siberia, they must eat whatever food is available—whether
it is a reindeer companion or not.

 

 

 

Excerpt

 

I land cradled in his arms about a foot off the ground. My feet scrape
along the stone floor as he draws me inside a small chamber. A high-powered
flashlight tied to the ceiling illuminates his face…

Without the mask over his mouth, I get a view of a living
Australopithecus…

A flat nose, thin lips, and intelligent blue eyes are inches from my own.
His muzzle juts out to accommodate his enlarged tongue that I don’t
need to see to know it’s there. I’ve studied his form in books
for half my life. In a surprisingly human gesture, he swings his chin to
shake ice crystals from his hair. Those monstrous fingers comb back the
strands from his brow, along the back of his head, and over his furry left
shoulder.

“I must have a concussion,” I murmur. My fingers have a mind of
their own and investigate the contours of his face before shrinking back in
mortification.

“Or you just find me that repulsive,” he says as his chin
lowers to his chest. With a grunt, he lifts me to his chest and carries me
to a stack of furs. I can’t breathe. My research. My studies. My
obsession for the last eight years of post-secondary education has emerged
from my anthropology articles to rescue me.

My Pleistocene Epoch Chapters…written about the Earth two million
years ago…

Maybe I hit my head and I’m passed out at the bottom of the methane
pit…but there was water, so I would have drowned by now. Did I
imagine swimming, Balky, Artyom, and perhaps the entire accident? I rip off
my gloves to pinch the back of my hand. My heart pounds as the sting
registers.

I’m not dreaming. My imagination couldn’t have conjured him.

“Please don’t run,” he says when I attempt to scramble to
my feet. “If we don’t secure your hip, you may injure yourself
permanently.”

I wish I could say I’m focused on my hip, but it’s numb so I
push my injuries to the bottom of my problems list. He would be more
confident if he incapacitated me with his herbs, right? So why aren’t
I screaming in fear? Being isolated with a monster should scare the hell out
of me, but he kneels before me like a queen as I rest on a pile of furs.
I’m dumbstruck with attraction. Bright blue eyes blaze with compassion
from a nest of ivory hair. The thick coarse locks cover his face and hang in
a neat beard. Finer, whiter hair is swept backward on his head. It drapes
over his shoulders over coarse fur. He isn’t wearing furs but is
covered in thick white hairs with strands of auburn peeking through. When my
eyes trail to the darker patch over his lap, I snap them up to his face.

Where he’s blushing…without his half-face mask.

Could he be more fascinating?

“But you are from the Pleistocene Epoch and using a modern
flashlight! You are like Schrodinger’s cat—both extinct and
alive at the same time!”

“I do not know this Schrodinger, his cat, or half the words you said.
Polina is a hairless one like you, who is the mate to our leader, Timor. She
trades our skins and fish for batteries and lights in the leto
season,” he says with a severe frown. I miss half his explanation
because I’m too busy watching his thin lips form the sounds. I could
study his speech patterns for decades and not have all my questions
answered.

What would it feel like to kiss a mouth with a pronounced maxillary bone
and an enlarged tongue?

The thought is so wrong. It makes me want to kiss him…and explore our
differences. My fingers itch to touch him. I have a million questions to ask
him about his life. First and foremost, is there a female he keeps in this
cave…if not, where do I sign up? I could study his handsome face for
years and not lose interest—amazing since my dating life has been as
exciting as reading the dictionary. Should I be shocked my mind is
contemplating blowing off my dig to study this specimen?

 And I can’t blame my body’s response to him on a head
injury…

About the Author

Marilyn Barr currently resides in the wilds of Kentucky with her husband,
son, and rescue cats. She has a diverse background containing experiences as
a child prodigy turned medical school reject, published microbiologist,
special education/inclusion science teacher, homeschool mother of a savant,
certified spiritual & energy healer, and advocate for the autistic
community. This puts her in the position to bring tales containing heroes
who are regular people with different ability levels and body types, in a
light where they are powerful, lovable, and appreciated.

When engaging with the real world, she is collecting characters, empty
coffee cups, and unused homeschool curricula. She is a sucker (haha) for
cheesy horror movies, Italian food, punk music, black cats, bad puns, and
all things witchy.

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

Instagram

TikTok

Preorder Now

Amazon

 

 

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

RABT Book Tours & PR

Denise Alicea
the authorDenise Alicea
This blog was created by Denise in September 2008 to blog about writing, book reviews, and technology. Slowly, but surely this blog expanded to what it has become now, a central for book reviews of all kinds interviews, contests, and of course promotional venue for authors, etc

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.