Hi! This is Piper Vaughn and Avon Gale and we’re here today to talk about our sexy new contemporary romance, Permanent Ink, in which the worlds of street art and tattooing collide when a silver-fox tattoo artist falls for his much younger apprentice – who also happens to be his best friend’s son.
Guest Post: Jericho’s Spotify Playlist by Avon Gale
I’m someone who usually has music playing while I’m working, and that’s been true for every tattoo artist who’s ever given me some ink, too. So I thought it would be fun to show you what Jericho’s Work Playlist looks like! Obviously, tattoos take a long time so this is probably just a small snippet of what he’d be listening to – I like to imagine these are his most-played songs 😊 Also, look, Jericho and I share a lot of the same musical tastes, okay? I highly recommend all of these songs and each of these bands if you’re looking for something new.
The Road, Frank Turner
(Frank Turner is Jericho’s favorite singer, and this is his favorite song – it’s also the ringtone as referenced in the book by Poe).
Get Better, Frank Turner
Love 40 Down, Frank Turner
Tattoos, Frank Turner
The Next Storm, Frank Turner
Recovery, Frank Turner
I Still Believe, Frank Turner
What Else Would You Have Me Be? Lucero
Nights Like These, Lucero
All Sewn Up, Lucero
Tonight Ain’t Gonna Be Good, Lucero
Bastards and Bridesmaids, Two Cow Garage
Great Expectations, Gaslight Anthem
The 59 Sound, Gaslight Anthem
Same to You, Lydia Loveless
Murder of Crows, Lindi Ortega
Straight at the Sun, Murder by Death
About Permanent Ink
At twenty-three, Poe Montgomery is going nowhere. He still lives in his father’s basement and spends most of his time tagging with his friends. When an arrest lands him in debt, Poe accepts the front desk job at Permanent Ink, the tattoo shop owned by his father’s best friend, Jericho McAslan. Jericho is nearly twice Poe’s age, but with his ink and prematurely graying hair, he quickly takes the starring role in Poe’s hottest fantasies.
Jericho is known for his ability to transform poorly designed tattoos into works of art, but he was once as aimless and misdirected as Poe. Wanting to pay it forward the way someone once did for him, Jericho makes Poe his apprentice and is determined to keep things strictly professional. Easier said than done when Poe makes his interest—and his daddy kink—abundantly clear.
Jericho can’t resist Poe or their intense chemistry for long. But between the age gap, tension with Poe’s father, and Poe’s best friend calling him a sellout, they’ll need to ensure they’re both on the same page before they can rewrite their rocky start into something permanent.
Now available from Riptide Publishing. http://www.riptidepublishing.com/titles/permanent-ink
About Avon Gale
Avon grew up in the southern United States, and now lives with her very patient husband in a liberal Midwestern college town. When she’s not writing, she’s either doing some kind of craft project that makes a huge mess, reading, watching horror movies, listening to music or yelling at her favorite hockey team to get it together, already. Avon is always up for a road trip, adores Kentucky bourbon, thinks nothing is as stress relieving as a good rock concert, and will never say no to candy.
At one point, Avon was the mayor of both Jazzercise and Lollicup on Foursquare. This tells you basically all you need to know about her as a person.
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About Piper Vaughn
Piper Vaughn wrote her first love story at eleven and never looked back. Since then, she’s known that writing in some form was exactly what she wanted to do. A reader at the core, Piper loves nothing more than getting lost in a great book—fantasy, young adult, romance, sci-fi, she loves them all (and has an over-two-thousand-book library to prove it!). She’s an avid tea drinker, a hockey fanatic, a vintage typewriter collector, and loves to travel so much she has “wanderlust” tattooed on her ankle and dozens of countries on her bucket list. Recently, she discovered the world of nail art and realized she’s pretty handy with a paintbrush—as long as it’s a miniature one.
As a bisexual and Latinx person, Piper takes great pride in her heritage. She grew up in an ethnically diverse neighborhood and strives to put faces and characters of every ethnicity in her stories, so her fictional worlds are as colorful as the real one. She currently resides in the suburbs of Chicago with her husband, son, and a cat that has Piper wrapped around her little paw. Above all, she believes that everyone needs a little true love in their life … even if it’s only in a book.
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To celebrate the release of Permanent Ink, one lucky winner will receive a $20 Amazon gift card and a “Poe” coffee mug! Leave a comment with your contact info to enter the contest. Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on August 12, 2017. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries. Thanks for following the tour, and don’t forget to leave your contact info!
“I can’t believe you got arrested!” Landon’s voice boomed in the dim interior of the truck. “How many times have I told you this was gonna happen? Dozens. Yet you still don’t listen. It’s like talking to a wall. Hell, it’s like I’m talking to my-fucking-self.”
I grunted and sank further into the passenger seat. No sense interrupting when my father was on a tear. Not that I had anything in particular to say anyway. I didn’t really understand all the drama. Both he and the cops were acting as if I’d desecrated the Lincoln Memorial, not spray-painted the side of some shitty corporate building downtown. They should thank me for adding a splash of color to an otherwise boring-ass neighborhood. A little bit of graffiti might liven things up for the yuppies and boujee vegan hipsters.
“You think I wanted to spend half the night bailing you out of jail?” Landon asked. “I have to be up for work at five in the goddamn morning. I should’ve left your ass there to rot until I closed up shop.”
Blah, blah, blah. I stifled a yawn behind my fist.
“Fuck, Poe, are you listening?”
Landon growled, his tattooed fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Do you think this is a goddamn joke? You’re not fourteen anymore. This is going on your permanent record.”
I tilted my head back against the seat and sighed. “It’s a misdemeanor. Calm down. I didn’t murder anyone.”
“That’s not the point.”
I closed my eyes. Jesus. I’m too tired to deal with this shit right now. “Then what is? Do enlighten me.”
“The point is it’s time for you to grow the fuck up and stop being so irresponsible. You’re twenty-three years old. You know what I was doing when I was your age? Working my ass off to provide for you and your mom.”
I snorted. “Yeah, well, a lot of good that did you. She still ran off when she got tired of playing house. Some beacon of responsibility she was, abandoning her husband and kid.”
Landon went quiet, and even without looking, I could picture his tight-lipped, narrow-eyed disapproval, and the throbbing vein that popped up in the middle of his forehead whenever he got pissed off.
“Your mother isn’t the point either,” Landon said softly. “I stuck around. I raised you. I kept clothes on your back and food in your belly. And I’m still letting your grown ass sleep under my roof and eat my groceries. A little respect would be nice. So would an apology.”
“Sorry,” I grumbled. I knew I’d crossed a line. My father didn’t have to answer the phone when I called at one in the morning. He didn’t have to get me out of jail either. And he was allowing me to live in his house rent-free, which was the only thing that spared me from having to room with five other dudes to afford a janky apartment on my pitiful, gas-station-cashier salary.
“Just ease up with the attitude, okay?” Landon said. “Oh, and don’t think you’re not paying me back that bail money and the lawyer fees and whatever the hell else I end up having to spend. Consider this a loan, and trust me, I will be keeping a tally.”
I opened my eyes and glanced at my father, whose attention was focused on the darkened road. A streetlamp briefly lit the inside of the truck, and in those few seconds of illumination, I could see Landon’s jaw clenched tight through his heavy beard. “Fine. And . . . thanks. I’m sorry for being a dick.”
Landon dipped his head, acknowledging the apology. “I hope you know I’m not trying to be an asshole, kid. But you’re not Peter Pan, and this isn’t Neverland. You need to start getting your shit together, and you won’t be able to do that if you’re out tagging at all hours of the night. Grow up, Poe. I can’t tolerate this behavior forever. One day I’ll hit my limit, and you’ll be out the door.”
I believed the threat in my father’s words. I knew someday he’d reach the end of his rope and give my ungrateful ass the boot. But when I closed my eyes again, all I could think about was the backpack and cannons I’d lost. Premium-quality spray paint confiscated as evidence. Some of the cans belonged to my best friend, Blue. Damn. That was going to piss him off. I’d have to pick up a few more shifts at the gas station to buy replacements.
At least the cops had let me keep my skateboard, and they hadn’t gotten my piece book either. It was filled front to back with ideas for both past and future projects. If that fell into the hands of the police, I’d be well and truly fucked—along with several other members of my crew.
For once my shitty attention span had come in handy.