Lynn Burke's Blog, page 29
June 13, 2015
Zombie Stir Fry! Murder and Mayhem #YUM #Goodeats
May's traditional zombie stir fry recipe:
Honey Lemon Chicken and Asparagus
Serves 4
Ingredients
1 tablespoon oil
1 pound chicken, cut into bite sized pieces
1 pound asparagus, trimmed and cut into 1 inch pieces
2 tablespoons honey
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 tablespoons soy sauce (reduced sodium)
1/4 cup chicken both – (May uses chicken bullion cubes)
1 teaspoon chilli sauce or a pinch of cayennne pepper
1 clove garlic, grated
1 teaspoon ginger, grated
1 tablespoon water
2 teaspoons cornstarch
Directions
- Mix honey, lemon juice, soy sauce, broth, chill sauce, lemon zest, garlic, ginger and set aside in a bowl.
- Heat the oil in a pan over medium-high heat, add the chicken and stir fry until cooked through and browned a bit.
- Add the asparagus and stir fry until it turns a brighter green, about 2 minutes.
- Add the honey, lemon juice mixture, stir
- Whisk the water with the corn starch, stir in to coat and cook until the sauce thickens, about a minute.
Serve over rice. (May likes to drink ginger beer with this, and finish up with lychees and her father's smoky moon-shadow tea.)
Who is May?
Read on...
Meet May, the vampire killer. She's quick, clever, and deadly, and she takes life very seriously having been killed once before by a mob of rogue vamps. Her father, a powerful necromancer, brought her back to life. She's M.U.C.I.'s (Mutant and Undead Criminal Investigation) best man, er, woman, well, zombie actually, for catching and killing rogue vampires, so when two kids show up with all the signs of having been killed by a rogue, May gets the case.
Clues lead straight to a certain Bartholomew Aelfrith, a vampire, whose sense of humor and tall blond good looks are enough to convince May he needs killing, even if he's not the killer. If he makes one more joke about her chop-sticks, she's going to stab him through the heart with one. The problem is, Bartholomew is probably the only person who can catch the real killer, so May has to put up with his insouciance and his wise-cracks, and his penchant for picking up strays of all kinds.
But if he says, "I've got a plan" one more time, she's going to scream.
Purchase Links:
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
May stepped outside and opened her umbrella. The burst of hail had changed to sporadic, slushy rain. It was a glowering, bitterly cold evening. Clouds moved sullenly across the dark sky.
From her street on the hill, she could see the river curving in its gentle S, the two bridges, Christmas Junction where the sky scrapers glittered, and downtown, where she could hopefully find a taxi. The clouds were so low that they hid the top half of the skyscrapers in Christmas Junction. A train, far in the distance, looked like a brightly lit caterpillar crossing the busy downtown area below.
The street she lived on was in a quiet residential neighborhood with old trees and a large park behind a tall, wrought-iron fence. The buildings, trees, and fence all leaned together, conspiring to keep the riffraff out. The sidewalk was clean and the cars lining the road gleamed. No riffraff here tonight … unless that shadow was up to no good.
May tilted her head to get a better look. In between two cars, on the opposite side of the street, huddled a shadow. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Something was not quite right. The shadow was too small to be a human, but too large for a dog. It slid around to the far side of the car to hide as May drew even.
What was it hiding from? And what was it? May was curious. She closed her umbrella and hooked it over the fence on her left, and then she darted across the street and peered behind the car. Crouching near the rear bumper was a small, skinny boy.
“Hi there. Are you all right?” May started toward him.
He bared his fangs and hissed as she drew near.
May’s step faltered. A vampire child. An abomination! Who the hell had made him? The prickle of fear turned into a full blown shiver. Poor creature. Too young to fend for itself, but dangerous nonetheless. As soon as it realized its powers it would go on a killing spree, and nothing living could resist it. Slowly, she eased her hand into her purse to get her cellphone to call for backup.
“Don’t hurt me,” he whimpered, cowering against the car. His eyes were huge with panic. Blood on his neck and a wet, brown stain on his T-shirt showed he hadn’t changed his clothes since it had happened, and that it had been recent. That was a blessing, at least. The more recently he had been killed, the weaker he would be. She might be able to handle this on her own.
Staying well back, she examined him. He wore no jacket and one of his shoes, May noted, was missing. “I won’t hurt you. Where’s your other shoe?” It was best to stick to unimportant things. Or at least, things that seemed unimportant. At times like this, anything could be crucial. Anything could set him off. She had to be careful. A rogue vampire had made this creature, and its saliva was deadly for anything other than a full-blooded vampire.
“My shoe?” He glanced down at his foot and flinched. “I don’t know.” He looked back up at her, his eyes pleading now. “I don’t know. I woke up nearby, I think, in a park. I woke up when the hail hit my face. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know who I am. Can you help me? I should be cold …” His voice trailed off. “I’m dreaming. Is that it? Is this a dream?”
May nodded, forcing her lips into a smile. “Yes. It’s a dream.”
Poor creature. He’d been badly made, hastily made, and made against all the laws and rules that governed the vampire clan. Not that they had many rules, and not that they really cared. They followed the rules only because they feared the consequences of breaking them and not from any moral obligation. May moved very slowly, so as not to startle him into attacking her.
“I can help you,” she said, crouching in front of him. “It’s a strange dream, isn’t it? I can help you.”
“I just want to wake up.” His voice was hoarse and his fangs, sharp as needles, glittered with bloody saliva.
“All right.” May eased her hand into her purse. “I want you to stand up straight. That’s right. Now, close your eyes and say, ‘There’s no place like home.’ Say it three times, and you’ll wake up.”
“All right.” He nodded, pathetically glad to obey. He screwed his eyes shut. “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.”
May took careful aim and drove the stake through his heart.
“There’s no place like … home.” The creature opened its eyes, but they were empty and saw nothing now. He was so slight he fell like a ribbon to the sidewalk, landing without a sound. His bare foot pointed at the sky. It started to rain again, harder.
Jennifer Macaire lives in France with her husband, three children, & various dogs & horses. She loves cooking, eating French chocolate, growing herbs and flowering plants on her balcony, and playing golf. She grew up in upstate New York, Samoa, and the Virgin Islands. She graduated from St. Peter and Paul high school in St. Thomas and moved to NYC where she modeled for five years for Elite. She went to France and met her husband at the polo club. All that is true. But she mostly likes to make up stories.
blog – Website – email
Honey Lemon Chicken and Asparagus
Serves 4
Ingredients
1 tablespoon oil
1 pound chicken, cut into bite sized pieces
1 pound asparagus, trimmed and cut into 1 inch pieces
2 tablespoons honey
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 tablespoons soy sauce (reduced sodium)
1/4 cup chicken both – (May uses chicken bullion cubes)
1 teaspoon chilli sauce or a pinch of cayennne pepper
1 clove garlic, grated
1 teaspoon ginger, grated
1 tablespoon water
2 teaspoons cornstarch
Directions
- Mix honey, lemon juice, soy sauce, broth, chill sauce, lemon zest, garlic, ginger and set aside in a bowl.
- Heat the oil in a pan over medium-high heat, add the chicken and stir fry until cooked through and browned a bit.
- Add the asparagus and stir fry until it turns a brighter green, about 2 minutes.
- Add the honey, lemon juice mixture, stir
- Whisk the water with the corn starch, stir in to coat and cook until the sauce thickens, about a minute.
Serve over rice. (May likes to drink ginger beer with this, and finish up with lychees and her father's smoky moon-shadow tea.)
Who is May?
Read on...
Meet May, the vampire killer. She's quick, clever, and deadly, and she takes life very seriously having been killed once before by a mob of rogue vamps. Her father, a powerful necromancer, brought her back to life. She's M.U.C.I.'s (Mutant and Undead Criminal Investigation) best man, er, woman, well, zombie actually, for catching and killing rogue vampires, so when two kids show up with all the signs of having been killed by a rogue, May gets the case.Clues lead straight to a certain Bartholomew Aelfrith, a vampire, whose sense of humor and tall blond good looks are enough to convince May he needs killing, even if he's not the killer. If he makes one more joke about her chop-sticks, she's going to stab him through the heart with one. The problem is, Bartholomew is probably the only person who can catch the real killer, so May has to put up with his insouciance and his wise-cracks, and his penchant for picking up strays of all kinds.
But if he says, "I've got a plan" one more time, she's going to scream.
Purchase Links:
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
May stepped outside and opened her umbrella. The burst of hail had changed to sporadic, slushy rain. It was a glowering, bitterly cold evening. Clouds moved sullenly across the dark sky.From her street on the hill, she could see the river curving in its gentle S, the two bridges, Christmas Junction where the sky scrapers glittered, and downtown, where she could hopefully find a taxi. The clouds were so low that they hid the top half of the skyscrapers in Christmas Junction. A train, far in the distance, looked like a brightly lit caterpillar crossing the busy downtown area below.
The street she lived on was in a quiet residential neighborhood with old trees and a large park behind a tall, wrought-iron fence. The buildings, trees, and fence all leaned together, conspiring to keep the riffraff out. The sidewalk was clean and the cars lining the road gleamed. No riffraff here tonight … unless that shadow was up to no good.
May tilted her head to get a better look. In between two cars, on the opposite side of the street, huddled a shadow. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Something was not quite right. The shadow was too small to be a human, but too large for a dog. It slid around to the far side of the car to hide as May drew even.
What was it hiding from? And what was it? May was curious. She closed her umbrella and hooked it over the fence on her left, and then she darted across the street and peered behind the car. Crouching near the rear bumper was a small, skinny boy.
“Hi there. Are you all right?” May started toward him.
He bared his fangs and hissed as she drew near.
May’s step faltered. A vampire child. An abomination! Who the hell had made him? The prickle of fear turned into a full blown shiver. Poor creature. Too young to fend for itself, but dangerous nonetheless. As soon as it realized its powers it would go on a killing spree, and nothing living could resist it. Slowly, she eased her hand into her purse to get her cellphone to call for backup.
“Don’t hurt me,” he whimpered, cowering against the car. His eyes were huge with panic. Blood on his neck and a wet, brown stain on his T-shirt showed he hadn’t changed his clothes since it had happened, and that it had been recent. That was a blessing, at least. The more recently he had been killed, the weaker he would be. She might be able to handle this on her own.
Staying well back, she examined him. He wore no jacket and one of his shoes, May noted, was missing. “I won’t hurt you. Where’s your other shoe?” It was best to stick to unimportant things. Or at least, things that seemed unimportant. At times like this, anything could be crucial. Anything could set him off. She had to be careful. A rogue vampire had made this creature, and its saliva was deadly for anything other than a full-blooded vampire.
“My shoe?” He glanced down at his foot and flinched. “I don’t know.” He looked back up at her, his eyes pleading now. “I don’t know. I woke up nearby, I think, in a park. I woke up when the hail hit my face. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know who I am. Can you help me? I should be cold …” His voice trailed off. “I’m dreaming. Is that it? Is this a dream?”
May nodded, forcing her lips into a smile. “Yes. It’s a dream.”
Poor creature. He’d been badly made, hastily made, and made against all the laws and rules that governed the vampire clan. Not that they had many rules, and not that they really cared. They followed the rules only because they feared the consequences of breaking them and not from any moral obligation. May moved very slowly, so as not to startle him into attacking her.
“I can help you,” she said, crouching in front of him. “It’s a strange dream, isn’t it? I can help you.”
“I just want to wake up.” His voice was hoarse and his fangs, sharp as needles, glittered with bloody saliva.
“All right.” May eased her hand into her purse. “I want you to stand up straight. That’s right. Now, close your eyes and say, ‘There’s no place like home.’ Say it three times, and you’ll wake up.”
“All right.” He nodded, pathetically glad to obey. He screwed his eyes shut. “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.”
May took careful aim and drove the stake through his heart.
“There’s no place like … home.” The creature opened its eyes, but they were empty and saw nothing now. He was so slight he fell like a ribbon to the sidewalk, landing without a sound. His bare foot pointed at the sky. It started to rain again, harder.
Jennifer Macaire lives in France with her husband, three children, & various dogs & horses. She loves cooking, eating French chocolate, growing herbs and flowering plants on her balcony, and playing golf. She grew up in upstate New York, Samoa, and the Virgin Islands. She graduated from St. Peter and Paul high school in St. Thomas and moved to NYC where she modeled for five years for Elite. She went to France and met her husband at the polo club. All that is true. But she mostly likes to make up stories. blog – Website – email
June 12, 2015
OMG check out the hotness!!! #CoverLove RICOCHET by @KeriLake!!!! Dark #Romantic #Suspense
Title: Ricochet Author: Keri LakeGenre: Dark Romantic SuspenseRelease Date: July 9, 2015
The only sure way to destroy a man is to take what he cannot live without.
Three years ago, I had everything.
A beautiful wife.A son.A reason for living.
Until a ruthless task force, assembled under Mayor Michael Culling, with a brutal strategy to make the streets of Detroit ‘safe’, ripped away everything I loved in a deadly hunt called The Culling.
They tried to kill me, too. I wish they had. Now I'm cursed by the memories of that night, and the words I whispered to my dying wife.
A promise—to avenge the wrong and set it right.
I’m no longer Nick Ryder. I’m a masked vigilante. Faceless. Loveless. Fearless. A man with nothing left to lose—one who's seen the dark and violent truth behind the city’s flawless veneer.
Michael Culling doesn’t know who I am. Or what I want. All he knows is that I’ve kidnapped his beautiful wife.
An eye for an eye—isn’t that how the saying goes? And Aubree Culling is the perfect pawn to destroy him.
If she doesn’t destroy me first.
Keri Lake is a married mother of two living in Michigan. By day, she tries to make use of the degrees she’s earned in science. By night, she writes dark contemporary and paranormal romance. Though novels tend to be her focus, she also writes short stories and flash fiction on the many occasions when distraction sucks her in to the Land of Shiny Things.
NEWSLETTER SIGN-UP: http://eepurl.com/HJPHH
She loves hearing from readers …
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Happy Book Birthday to The Forever Forest & Gayle Cranfield!
A series of unusual, and unexplained murders in Bath, England, pushes Detective Sergeant Rebecca Leigh and Psychic Investigator, Gabriel Lewis, to work together. They discover a link to a new Steam Punk nightclub, The Wolf's Den, where owner Darius Wolf, when interviewed, disorientates Rebecca. On exciting the club, Rebecca collapses, seemingly intoxicated, leaving Gabriel no choice but to take her to his home.
She has no memory of meeting Wolf, but attraction between Rebecca and Gabriel reaches boiling point as she discovers Gabriel is not as he seems.
The timid psychic is a Dominant in the bedroom and turns her world upside down, as the normally strong willed Detective realizes what has been missing in her past relationships, the submission Gabriel requires from her.
Darius, now obsessed with Rebecca, gains access to her dreams when she is kidnapped by him, leaving Gabriel having to find a passage into Rebecca's dreams and save her from The Forever Forest. Purchase Links:
"You mentioned Jekyll and Hyde earlier, I'd that how you see me?" Gabriel asked as they sat eating their pasta."A bit yes. You seem so quiet normally, but this morning, when we were in your bedroom, you were a different person. More forceful."
"I asked you this morning if that scared you and you said no, but when you walked in here today you seemed very nervous."
"Apprehensive I think is more the terminology you should be using."
"Why?" he asked casually.
"The word dominant conjures up many images in my head. I've read books, and I know what it means."
"Is that how you see me?"
"Yes." She gulped.
"You are a very astute woman. You've already worked me out from this morning?"
"Yes. I'm a Detective you know, it's my job." She tried to make a joke, but she knew it just sounded like panic.
"The term Dominant can mean all sorts of things in life."
"What does it mean to you?"
"I'd like you to look at yourself," he said, deflecting her question.
"In what way?" she asked.
"You are an extremely dominant woman in your work, and I presume you are like that because you are in a very male oriented world and have had to learn to be like that. Am I right?"
"To a certain extent, yes," she agreed.
"But I get the feeling that is not your natural personality." He took a long drink from his glass and refilled both glasses again.
"How so?" She nodded in thanks to the wine and picked her glass up and put it to her lips. The wine, along with the food that Gabriel had prepared, was a taste sensation. "Every now and then I see Alice falling down a rabbit hole, only fleetingly, but it's there."
"That's a strange analogy, explain." She smiled as she put her glass down and picked up her fork once more.
"I know you're good at your job and you are obviously very thorough, but I get the feeling that this persona, this hard woman, is not the real you. You have been dragged out of your comfort zone with this career and have had to learn to adapt."
"Keep talking." This man was good.
"You are an extremely foreboding personality and I wouldn't want to cross you at work, but last night and this morning I saw a different side to you, a timid side, and one I'd like to explore a little further." She went to open her mouth, but Gabriel put his hand up to stop her saying anything. "Before you jump down my throat, hear me out please."
"Ok." She was beginning to take offense at his hint that she was weak.
"You do not socialize with people from work, do you?"
"No, they're a bunch of arseholes. I like a few of them, but I still wouldn't choose to spend any amount of with them, Tanya is probably the only one I would see out of work."
"So is that because you don't want people to see the real you when you take your mask off?"
"I'm sorry?"
"When you get home, do you close the door behind you and lock the woman away and the little girl is released?"
Rebecca didn't say anything, visions of her unicorn pajamas folded on her bed suddenly flicked through her mind.
"I take it by that silence I'm correct."
"Go on..."
"Let's take another avenue. Tell me about your last relationship."
"Er, ok, I met Harry when I was working on a stalking case few years ago. He was the victim before you ask."
"And you started a relationship with him?"
"After the case was over, yes, I did. He was a lovely man and wanted to marry me, but it wasn't what I wanted."
"What did you want?"
"Something else."
"And what was that?"
Silence reigned as Rebecca couldn't quite give him a reason why she didn't want to marry Harry.
"Did you ever take that mask off in front of him?"
"Why do you keep going on about a mask?"
"Because I think, and please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, that you are such a force in your work and all you want to do when you get home is curl up and lock the door with a book and a glass of wine. Am I right so far?"
"Possibly."
"Harry met you in a work environment, didn't he?"
"Yes."
"When he was possibly at the lowest time in his life being stalked, making him jumpy and needy."
"True."
"And you were the strong Detective Sergeant Rebecca Leigh, crime fighter extraordinaire."
"Now you're taking the piss." She laughed. "You had me believing you then."
"Look at the situation. Was it the tough DS Leigh he fell in love with, or the little girl lost that escapes to her fantasy world in books or TV?" Silence again. "How was your sex life?"
She blushed. "Good, I think." She hated talking about her sex life as she'd discussed with Tanya that morning.
"Was it always you that took the lead, perhaps always instigated sex?"
She thought for a moment. "He was busy, always working long hours."
"And you weren’t?"
"That's not the point," she answered abruptly.
"It totally is the point. He saw you as the dominant personality in your relationship and in all aspects of it, and I don't think you are. Yes, you are dominant in your work life, but you want to be that woman who is taken care of, too."
"I think I get what you mean."
"So I want to explore that side of your quieter personality, not the tough CID Detective Sergeant."
"How do you intend to do that?"
"There is one avenue I want to explore with you, Rebecca. It will probably make you very apprehensive."
"What's that? You're killing me here, Gabriel. Get to the point will you?"
"I want you to submit to me."
"What, in everything I do?" She panicked.
"No, just in the bedroom or wherever sex occurs. Your life is your own. I would not try and change that. I like that side. It's feisty, but it is Rebecca I want to explore further, not Detective Sergeant Leigh."
"I'm not into whips and chains and things."
"Stop panicking. It's not all about that. It's about control. It can be, but that's not what I want from this."
"What do you want from it?"
"Basically, to Dominate you in our sex life."
"I'm not sure about this, Gabriel. Is this something you're used to?"
"It has been in the past, yes. It can make a very interesting relationship. Basically I want to pleasure you in every way possible, and I want to ensure that you have enough orgasms to make your ears bleed."
"And what do you get out of this?" she asked curiously.
"To take care of you. Don't worry, you will satisfy me, too, but my purpose will be your pleasure."
"The perfect man?" She chuckled.
"You said it, not me." His eyes looked over his wine glass, and although she couldn't see his mouth she knew he was smirking behind the blood red liquid.
Gayle Cranfield was born in London and found her forever after, Mark at the age of 14.After nearly 30 years of being together, they have two children, both at a university, and now live in Wiltshire in the South West of England somewhere between Stonehenge and Bath.
Whilst on a road trip around California in 2013, she read some disastrous books and when she returned home decided to write one of her own. Having never creatively written a word since school, she picked up her iPad and hesitantly started to write in secret thinking she'd write a short story, before she knew it she had 97000 words!
That was four books ago. She has written three erotic thrillers for Siren Publishing and this time has written her first erotic/paranormal, The Forever Forest, and has chosen Evernight to publish it for her.
"It is great to see your work come alive," Gayle says. "Although you have various Beta readers telling you it is a great story and a real page turner until a publishing company says 'Yes we want your work' you only think your friends are being nice and trying not to hurt your feelings. Seeing the front cover being emailed to me for approval is always the best part and Jay Aheer has done the most amazing job, as she always does ,with all the Evernight Authors www.gaylecranfield.co.uk
www.facebook.com/therightturnbook
www.bookstrand.com/gayle-cranfield
Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/aw/s/ref=is_s_ss_i_0_9?k=gayle+cranfield&sprefix=gayle+cra
Amazon US
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_c_0_8?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=gayle+cranfield&sprefix=Gayle+cr%2Caps%2C225
Amazon Australia
http://www.amazon.com.au/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/378-0496966-8868115?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=Gayle+Cranfield&rh=n%3A2490359051%2Ck%3AGayle+Cranfield
Www.Twitter.com/@gaylecranfield
June 6, 2015
Happy Book Birthday to Blood Witch and Naomi Clark! #Paranormal #Suspense #UF
I think one of the fun and frustrating parts of being a writer is that the idea you start out with is often not the story you end up with (or is that just me?). BLOOD WITCH is a prime example.
This novella started out as a way to keep myself occupied during my Christmas break last year, and turned into a labour of love. It's also turned out to be a bit of an exquisite corpse, in the sense that it's a patchwork of ideas and characters from other projects I started and abandoned in the past. Some facts:
1. The opening scene is an adaptation of something I scribbled in a notepad before work one morning. A witch (then called Lilah) was being interviewed by the police. At that point I had no idea why and I never wrote any more. I did steal that opening and turn Lilah into Lola for BLOOD WITCH.
2. The start of chapter two, where Lola visits her ex-girlfriend, Rowan, started life as an urban fantasy parody I was writing to amuse myself. It was supposed to be part of a really OTT cliched UF story, but I ended up taking it too seriously (as I am prone to do) and decided to make it part of BLOOD WITCH.
3. One of the side characters, Caleb, was originally a secondary character in a paranormal romance I was writing a few years back. I got about 20k in before realising I didn't really know what I was doing, but I liked Caleb and decided to work him in somewhere else.
BLOOD WITCH has come a long way from my initial idea of a short story about a witch falsely accused of murder. That core idea is still a big part of the story, but the world has grown beyond my plans and I now see this as the start of a series instead of a stand-alone mini project. I'm so glad my original plan changed so much because now I get to explore and share a whole new bunch of ideas and characters with you!
Lola Guntram is used to being an outcast. She's the only blood witch in Fort Rosser, mistrusted by other witches and happier working solo. But when her dark practices make her the prime suspect in a brutal murder investigation, she's forced to turn to others for help. Not that she has many allies – her ex-girlfriend thinks Lola is the killer, and the local coven leader thinks Lola will corrupt them all if she gets too close.
Help comes in an expected – and alluring – form. Tristesse is a demon on the run, beautiful, enigmatic, and suspiciously keen to assist Lola while she chases down the real killer. How can Lola refuse? With the police breathing down her neck, accusations flying, and inhuman monsters on the streets, Lola needs all the help she can get. The killer is angry, desperate, and determined. But so is Lola Guntram. And she doesn't care how dark or bloody the magic has to get – she's going to stop them.
Buy Links
Evernight Publishing
All Romance Ebooks
Amazon US
Amazon UK
There was probably never a good time to have the police knock on your door, Lola reflected. But three am on a September morning was definitely one of the worst. The fog outside seeped into the house with the stone-faced detectives, and the brisk chill of the night sank into Lola's bones. She'd only been home a couple of hours; only just stripped off and gone to bed. Now, huddled in her ancient rocking chair by the embers of a dying fire, she didn't feel as exhausted as she should. She felt like someone had stuck a live wire up her ass.
“I know this can't be good news,” she addressed the female detective, who introduced herself simply as 'Hardy.' “So you'd better just get on with it.”
Hardy, a brunette who did look exhausted, raised an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure it's not good news, Miss Guntram?”
Lola tried a smile. “Do the cops ever show up after midnight with good news?”
Her partner, Scherer, looked fresher. He sat on the edge of his seat like he might spring up any second, but he smiled back. It wasn't an entirely happy expression. “You caught us out, Miss Guntram. This isn't a social call.”
“Then don't drag it out,” Lola said. His nervous energy was infectious.
They exchanged a knowing look. “Where were you between ten and midnight tonight?” he asked.
The blunt question created a knot of dread in her stomach and she had to swallow hard before she answering. “Working. I was with a client. Why?”
Hardy fixed cold blue eyes on her. It was a searching look, penetrating. If Lola didn't know better, she'd wonder if the detective was trying to probe her psychically. But both detectives felt like nulls to her sharp senses. “Can you prove that?” she asked.
Irritation mixed with the dread. “Yes, of course. I have a diary in my office and you can call the client – although she probably isn't going to be any happier to hear from you than I am. What's this about?”
Scherer couldn't quite manage Hardy's gimlet gaze, but his half-smile had disappeared. “What exactly is your job, Miss Guntram?”
Lola shifted in the rocking chair, wishing she could cover herself with the blanket she sat on. But it would make her look vulnerable and she had a distinct feeling that wouldn't do her any favors. She settled for tightening the belt on her robe and pushing her shoulders back. Three years of childhood ballet lessons had taught her that good posture always created a good impression.
“I'm a spiritual consultant. I help clients with difficult decisions, life choices, with emotional and psychological problems.” That was an edited, socially-acceptable answer. Lola wasn't about to get into witchcraft and spellcasting. She rubbed her wrists absently, glad her robe had long sleeves that hid the scars on her arms.
Scherer sneered at her answer, making her doubly glad she'd given the short version. “So you're a New Age guru or something? Separating the gullible from their money?”
“Scherer,” Hardy said, “let's not get distracted.”
“Yes, I'd love it if we could stay on track,” Lola snapped. “Maybe we can start with you telling me what this is about? It's late, I'm tired, I have an early start -”
“Why does 'spiritual consulting' take place so late at night?” Hardy asked. “That strikes me as odd, Miss Guntram.”
The sound of her own surname was starting to grate on Lola. “It's a new moon tonight. Very good for certain practices.” Were they ever going to get to the fucking point? She couldn't think of a single thing she'd done that would bring them to her door, and it felt like she'd never find out at this rate.
“So if we checked with your client, they would confirm you were nowhere near the Red Lotus tonight?” Hardy asked.
Lola blinked. “The Red Lotus? No, of course not. Why would I be there?” The idea was so laughable, she almost forgot her nerves and irritation for a second. The Red Lotus was a pretty exclusive S&M club – members only, sky-high fees, that kind of thing. It was also owned and managed by Lola's ex-girlfriend. Even if she'd been into the kink that the Red Lotus offered, Lola could never have gone there. It would have been mortifying. She felt herself blushing at the very thought.
“Well, you tell us, Miss Guntram.” Hardy leaned forward again, resting her elbows on her knees and clasping her hands under her chin. The movement put her face in shadow, with the room only lit by a soft peachy lamp, and Lola was struck by the thought that Hardy would be beautiful if she didn't look so tense and tired. “You see, a woman was found dead there tonight.”
Lola's heart jumped, then plummeted. “A woman? Not Rowan?” Her voice squeaked and she covered her mouth as if she could recover the sound.
“Ms Morgan is fine,” Scherer said. Lola felt some of her dread drain away.
“She is the reason we're here, however,” Hardy said. “She seems quite sure you're responsible for the killing, you see.”
Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.
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This novella started out as a way to keep myself occupied during my Christmas break last year, and turned into a labour of love. It's also turned out to be a bit of an exquisite corpse, in the sense that it's a patchwork of ideas and characters from other projects I started and abandoned in the past. Some facts:
1. The opening scene is an adaptation of something I scribbled in a notepad before work one morning. A witch (then called Lilah) was being interviewed by the police. At that point I had no idea why and I never wrote any more. I did steal that opening and turn Lilah into Lola for BLOOD WITCH.
2. The start of chapter two, where Lola visits her ex-girlfriend, Rowan, started life as an urban fantasy parody I was writing to amuse myself. It was supposed to be part of a really OTT cliched UF story, but I ended up taking it too seriously (as I am prone to do) and decided to make it part of BLOOD WITCH.
3. One of the side characters, Caleb, was originally a secondary character in a paranormal romance I was writing a few years back. I got about 20k in before realising I didn't really know what I was doing, but I liked Caleb and decided to work him in somewhere else.
BLOOD WITCH has come a long way from my initial idea of a short story about a witch falsely accused of murder. That core idea is still a big part of the story, but the world has grown beyond my plans and I now see this as the start of a series instead of a stand-alone mini project. I'm so glad my original plan changed so much because now I get to explore and share a whole new bunch of ideas and characters with you!
Lola Guntram is used to being an outcast. She's the only blood witch in Fort Rosser, mistrusted by other witches and happier working solo. But when her dark practices make her the prime suspect in a brutal murder investigation, she's forced to turn to others for help. Not that she has many allies – her ex-girlfriend thinks Lola is the killer, and the local coven leader thinks Lola will corrupt them all if she gets too close.Help comes in an expected – and alluring – form. Tristesse is a demon on the run, beautiful, enigmatic, and suspiciously keen to assist Lola while she chases down the real killer. How can Lola refuse? With the police breathing down her neck, accusations flying, and inhuman monsters on the streets, Lola needs all the help she can get. The killer is angry, desperate, and determined. But so is Lola Guntram. And she doesn't care how dark or bloody the magic has to get – she's going to stop them.
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There was probably never a good time to have the police knock on your door, Lola reflected. But three am on a September morning was definitely one of the worst. The fog outside seeped into the house with the stone-faced detectives, and the brisk chill of the night sank into Lola's bones. She'd only been home a couple of hours; only just stripped off and gone to bed. Now, huddled in her ancient rocking chair by the embers of a dying fire, she didn't feel as exhausted as she should. She felt like someone had stuck a live wire up her ass.“I know this can't be good news,” she addressed the female detective, who introduced herself simply as 'Hardy.' “So you'd better just get on with it.”
Hardy, a brunette who did look exhausted, raised an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure it's not good news, Miss Guntram?”
Lola tried a smile. “Do the cops ever show up after midnight with good news?”
Her partner, Scherer, looked fresher. He sat on the edge of his seat like he might spring up any second, but he smiled back. It wasn't an entirely happy expression. “You caught us out, Miss Guntram. This isn't a social call.”
“Then don't drag it out,” Lola said. His nervous energy was infectious.
They exchanged a knowing look. “Where were you between ten and midnight tonight?” he asked.
The blunt question created a knot of dread in her stomach and she had to swallow hard before she answering. “Working. I was with a client. Why?”
Hardy fixed cold blue eyes on her. It was a searching look, penetrating. If Lola didn't know better, she'd wonder if the detective was trying to probe her psychically. But both detectives felt like nulls to her sharp senses. “Can you prove that?” she asked.
Irritation mixed with the dread. “Yes, of course. I have a diary in my office and you can call the client – although she probably isn't going to be any happier to hear from you than I am. What's this about?”
Scherer couldn't quite manage Hardy's gimlet gaze, but his half-smile had disappeared. “What exactly is your job, Miss Guntram?”
Lola shifted in the rocking chair, wishing she could cover herself with the blanket she sat on. But it would make her look vulnerable and she had a distinct feeling that wouldn't do her any favors. She settled for tightening the belt on her robe and pushing her shoulders back. Three years of childhood ballet lessons had taught her that good posture always created a good impression.
“I'm a spiritual consultant. I help clients with difficult decisions, life choices, with emotional and psychological problems.” That was an edited, socially-acceptable answer. Lola wasn't about to get into witchcraft and spellcasting. She rubbed her wrists absently, glad her robe had long sleeves that hid the scars on her arms.
Scherer sneered at her answer, making her doubly glad she'd given the short version. “So you're a New Age guru or something? Separating the gullible from their money?”
“Scherer,” Hardy said, “let's not get distracted.”
“Yes, I'd love it if we could stay on track,” Lola snapped. “Maybe we can start with you telling me what this is about? It's late, I'm tired, I have an early start -”
“Why does 'spiritual consulting' take place so late at night?” Hardy asked. “That strikes me as odd, Miss Guntram.”
The sound of her own surname was starting to grate on Lola. “It's a new moon tonight. Very good for certain practices.” Were they ever going to get to the fucking point? She couldn't think of a single thing she'd done that would bring them to her door, and it felt like she'd never find out at this rate.
“So if we checked with your client, they would confirm you were nowhere near the Red Lotus tonight?” Hardy asked.
Lola blinked. “The Red Lotus? No, of course not. Why would I be there?” The idea was so laughable, she almost forgot her nerves and irritation for a second. The Red Lotus was a pretty exclusive S&M club – members only, sky-high fees, that kind of thing. It was also owned and managed by Lola's ex-girlfriend. Even if she'd been into the kink that the Red Lotus offered, Lola could never have gone there. It would have been mortifying. She felt herself blushing at the very thought.
“Well, you tell us, Miss Guntram.” Hardy leaned forward again, resting her elbows on her knees and clasping her hands under her chin. The movement put her face in shadow, with the room only lit by a soft peachy lamp, and Lola was struck by the thought that Hardy would be beautiful if she didn't look so tense and tired. “You see, a woman was found dead there tonight.”
Lola's heart jumped, then plummeted. “A woman? Not Rowan?” Her voice squeaked and she covered her mouth as if she could recover the sound.
“Ms Morgan is fine,” Scherer said. Lola felt some of her dread drain away.
“She is the reason we're here, however,” Hardy said. “She seems quite sure you're responsible for the killing, you see.”
Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.Website
June 5, 2015
Happy Book Birthday to Shakedown & Michelle Roth! #RotG #Suspense #Erotic
Hi there, everyone! I'm Michelle Roth and I'm here to introduce my latest release, Shakedown. Diamond and Diamond is a bit of a departure from anything that I've written thus far. My previous works have all been ultra-realistic contemporary romance. Shakedown still has the sexy, steamy elements just like any other erotic romance, but it also incorporates a bit of suspense and mystery as well. I certainly hope you enjoy!
Private Detective Mike Diamond is the low man on the totem pole. More often than not he finds himself investigating insurance fraud or cheating spouses. When he's assigned a dog-napping case, he is on the brink of refusing until he meets the client. One look at her changes everything.
When the police refuse to investigate her case, Cassidy Werner turns to Diamond and Diamond Private Investigators. Despite the bad first impression he's given her, Cassidy still hires Mike to help her find her prize Tibetan Mastiff. As she gets to know him, she realizes that he's not only dedicated to getting Roddy back for her, but also a pretty great guy.
Right after she receives a ransom demand, things begin to heat up between them. Will Mike be able to crack the case and save her dog? And if he can, does that mean that he gets the girl too?
Purchase Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Michelle-Roth/e/B00KQNZOAW/
Evernight:
Bookstrand.com: http://www.bookstrand.com/michelle-roth
He was relieved to find the lobby was empty, so he stopped back at Lara's desk and asked, “Can you believe that shit? A dog napping?”
He didn't think for a minute she hadn't overheard every word. That woman was like the KGB and Secret Service all in one. Anything happened in this office, she had it under immediate surveillance.
Lara cuffed him on the arm and said, “She's in the bathroom, idiot.”
Mike winced, feeling bad he'd probably been overheard. But, seriously, who hired a PI to find a lost dog?
Seconds later, the bathroom door slowly opened. He almost did a double take as the woman stepped out. Aside from red eyes that had clearly been crying, she was a looker.
She was elegantly dressed and somewhere near his age, with a riot of auburn curls trailing down her back, like some sort of mermaid siren. All ripe, lush curves. He'd always liked his women soft.
And, he was ogling this obviously distraught woman like she was a steak. Not that he wouldn't be more than interested in taking a bite, but it was clear that now wasn't the time. So instead of voicing his thoughts, he stuck his hand out and said, “Mike Diamond. And you are?”
“Cassidy Werner,” she said, not bothering to stick her hand out.
Well, apparently she'd heard him. He'd need to apologize, if the look on her face was any indication. He dropped his hand and said, “My office is this way.”
She gave him a look that screamed 'You're on thin ice, buddy' but moved toward the open office door that Mike had gestured to. He followed her, once again appreciating the hourglass waist and full hips. Damn.
He moved behind his desk and gestured to one of the worn chairs. When she had settled in, he asked, “So I understand your dog has been kidnapped?”
Michelle Roth is a novelist from the Great White North (Toronto, ON). When she’s not disappearing into foreign lands, or making two perfect strangers that she invented fall in love, she’s probably curled up somewhere with a glass of wine and a good book.
In her spare time she is typically hanging out with her awesome boyfriend and their two equally awesome cats. She likes taking road trips to nowhere in particular, cooking elaborate meals then making other people do the dishes, and being nerdy on the internet. Her books are currently available on Amazon, Nook, Kobo, and any other place that sells absolutely filthy romance novels.
(Contact Info:)
Twitter: @mroth_author
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mrothauthor
Website: http://www.michelleroth.net
Newsletter: http://michelleroth.net/mailing-list/
GooglePlus: http://google.com/+MichelleRothAuthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8178847.Michelle_Roth
Amazon Author: http://www.amazon.com/Michelle-Roth/e/B00KQNZOAW
Email: michelle@michelleroth.net
Private Detective Mike Diamond is the low man on the totem pole. More often than not he finds himself investigating insurance fraud or cheating spouses. When he's assigned a dog-napping case, he is on the brink of refusing until he meets the client. One look at her changes everything.When the police refuse to investigate her case, Cassidy Werner turns to Diamond and Diamond Private Investigators. Despite the bad first impression he's given her, Cassidy still hires Mike to help her find her prize Tibetan Mastiff. As she gets to know him, she realizes that he's not only dedicated to getting Roddy back for her, but also a pretty great guy.
Right after she receives a ransom demand, things begin to heat up between them. Will Mike be able to crack the case and save her dog? And if he can, does that mean that he gets the girl too?
Purchase Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Michelle-Roth/e/B00KQNZOAW/
Evernight:
Bookstrand.com: http://www.bookstrand.com/michelle-roth
He was relieved to find the lobby was empty, so he stopped back at Lara's desk and asked, “Can you believe that shit? A dog napping?”He didn't think for a minute she hadn't overheard every word. That woman was like the KGB and Secret Service all in one. Anything happened in this office, she had it under immediate surveillance.
Lara cuffed him on the arm and said, “She's in the bathroom, idiot.”
Mike winced, feeling bad he'd probably been overheard. But, seriously, who hired a PI to find a lost dog?
Seconds later, the bathroom door slowly opened. He almost did a double take as the woman stepped out. Aside from red eyes that had clearly been crying, she was a looker.
She was elegantly dressed and somewhere near his age, with a riot of auburn curls trailing down her back, like some sort of mermaid siren. All ripe, lush curves. He'd always liked his women soft.
And, he was ogling this obviously distraught woman like she was a steak. Not that he wouldn't be more than interested in taking a bite, but it was clear that now wasn't the time. So instead of voicing his thoughts, he stuck his hand out and said, “Mike Diamond. And you are?”
“Cassidy Werner,” she said, not bothering to stick her hand out.
Well, apparently she'd heard him. He'd need to apologize, if the look on her face was any indication. He dropped his hand and said, “My office is this way.”
She gave him a look that screamed 'You're on thin ice, buddy' but moved toward the open office door that Mike had gestured to. He followed her, once again appreciating the hourglass waist and full hips. Damn.
He moved behind his desk and gestured to one of the worn chairs. When she had settled in, he asked, “So I understand your dog has been kidnapped?”
Michelle Roth is a novelist from the Great White North (Toronto, ON). When she’s not disappearing into foreign lands, or making two perfect strangers that she invented fall in love, she’s probably curled up somewhere with a glass of wine and a good book.In her spare time she is typically hanging out with her awesome boyfriend and their two equally awesome cats. She likes taking road trips to nowhere in particular, cooking elaborate meals then making other people do the dishes, and being nerdy on the internet. Her books are currently available on Amazon, Nook, Kobo, and any other place that sells absolutely filthy romance novels.
(Contact Info:)
Twitter: @mroth_author
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mrothauthor
Website: http://www.michelleroth.net
Newsletter: http://michelleroth.net/mailing-list/
GooglePlus: http://google.com/+MichelleRothAuthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8178847.Michelle_Roth
Amazon Author: http://www.amazon.com/Michelle-Roth/e/B00KQNZOAW
Email: michelle@michelleroth.net
June 4, 2015
Do you believe in magic? PANTHER MAGIC by Doris O'Connor #Erotic #Romance #Giveaway #excerpt
Thanks so much for having me on your blog today with my new release, Panther Magic, book five of The Projects series. J
Do you believe in magic? My heroine Kate doesn’t. Not one little bit, so when she meets Zeb and Arran Harris at the spa-with-a-difference, she has no idea who these two hunks are—other than the men who set her bikini bottoms aflame with just one look.
Mind you, that insta-lust she feels does not mean that she’ll just roll over and forget about this magic act they do. Panthers, really?
It’s just downright cruel to subject such majestic animals to the glare of the stage lights.
Everything changes when Kate actually goes to see their performance, and she realizes the men are shifters. You can’t mistreat an animal that is in fact human, can you?
Well, maybe not…and it doesn’t really matter, because she can’t resist her men either. When they are in trouble, there is only one thing for it. Kate has to rescue them from themselves.
She might only be human, but she’ll show that overbearing council that human or not, she will and can fight for her Sirs.
Zeb doesn’t call her wildcat for nothing…
Prepare to laugh, cry, and get somewhat hot and bothered, because when these three get together, they ignite the pages.
There’s no such thing as magic…
Kate doesn’t believe in it, let alone the panther sort Arran and Zeb Harris are famous for. Using animals in their act is just downright cruel. If only she could convince her libido of that. Instead she seems to have fallen head over heels in lust with those sex-on-legs twin brothers. Getting laid will cure this, surely?
When panther shifters Arran and Zeb scent their mate, they know they’ll have a fight on their hands. The delectable human morsel might be submissive, but Kate has spirit, never mind the small matter she has no idea shifters exist.
They want her submission freely given and not forced upon her by the mysterious mating bond. However, when their panthers kill while rescuing Kate, that bond might well be the only thing to keep them alive.
It’s up to Kate to save her Sirs.
Purchase Links:
Evernight ARe Bookstrand Amazon B&N
“Have you actually seen our act?” Arran’s softly spoken question took the wind out of her righteous sails somewhat, and she tried her best to glare at him, too, which lasted all of two seconds under his quiet regard. One eyebrow rose in query, and with his full mouth set in a grim line, he radiated disapproval, and she couldn’t bring herself to hold his gaze. Instead she shook her head, and she dropped it down to his muscle packed chest, which was not helping one iota. Wrenching her gaze upward again, she finally settled for staring at his jaw. Mind you, that, too, was far too distracting, covered as it was in designer stubble. It simply drew her attention to his strong neck and the way his Adam’s apple moved as he spoke, even more softly this time. There was no mistaking the edge to his words though that made her want to sink to her knees and apologize.
She once heard it said that a true Dom didn’t need to raise his voice, and she’d never truly understood that until this moment, and they weren’t even in a scene. Lord help her if they ever were.
“So, tell me, sweet thing, how can you form an opinion on how we treat the animals we use if you’ve never seen us in action?”
Kate wanted the ground to swallow her up whole. He had a point there, she guessed, but, bugger it all to hell and back if she was going to admit that.
She settled for shrugging her shoulders, and jumped when Zeb grasped her chin and thus gave her no choice but to look up at him.
“Give us the courtesy of looking at us when you condemn us without knowing all the facts, girl. Shrugging your shoulders like that is downright rude, and I think you know what happens to rude girls. If you think yourself safe from recriminations, because we’re in a public space, then think again. I have no compunction of putting you over my knee right now.”
Natasha’s loud gasp broke the tense moment, and Zeb smiled and released her as abruptly as he had grasped her.
“Sorry, Sir.” Kate had to murmur that quiet apology, when the loss of his touch on her skin left her curiously at sea. Approval flashed across his far too handsome features, and Kate got the oddest sensation when she stared into his eyes. They seemed to briefly flash to a soft, glowing yellow, before she blinked, and she looked back into their more usual warm chestnut.
“However, Sir,” she said and Zeb frowned and Arran gave a short laugh, and shook his head in what seemed to be wry amusement. “You are not my Dom. I have not agreed to a scene, and if you tried to put me over your knee in any way shape or form without my agreement, public space or not, I’d have you up for an assault charge faster than you can say poor mistreated cat.”
There, put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Kate crossed her arms again, in an effort to hide her trembling hands, and focused on Natasha, instead of the two overbearing hunks in front of her. Despite her insides churning like clothes on a spin cycle, her lips twitched at the open mouthed expression on her friend’s face.
Talk about giving her a demonstration to prove the point that submissive didn’t equal doormat. They’d had that discussion only this morning on their way over to the spa. Then again, Kate was the first to admit that she was a rather bratty sub at the best of times.
“She’s got you there, bro.” Arran’s amused voice brought Kate’s attention back to him, and she lost herself in the smile he gave her. That smile alone would guarantee that most females would drop their knickers in an instant. Not that she was most females, and besides she wasn’t wearing knickers. Bikini bottoms didn’t count, surely.
“I fear we’ve started off on the wrong foot somewhat, and for that I apologize, Kate.” He looked across at his brother and some sort of silent communication seemed to occur between the two men, because Zeb nodded, and he, too smiled, showing a set of even white teeth that must make his dentist very proud of him.
Kate groaned at her thought processes. This was beyond ridiculous, really. Why did these two get to her so much?
“There is an easy way of remedying this situation, however,” Arran said. “We would very much like to invite you to come and see one of our performances, as our VIP guests. You and Natasha both.”
He nodded at Natasha, and for the second time in the last few minutes, Kate’s friend looked as though she was going to have a heart attack.
“Oh, my, really? We’d love to come, wouldn’t we, Kate? Oh, this is so kind of you, really. Kate will be there, won’t you?”
It was on the tip of Kate’s tongue to deny this assumption, but the way Natasha implored her with her big feline eyes meant that she couldn’t, so instead she just gave a tight nod. Natasha’s squeal rang in her ears, and the two men’s tight shoulders relaxed. She hadn’t even noticed how tense they had become until that moment, and Kate briefly wondered why this seemed to mean so much to them, before she was pulled into a bear hug by Natasha.
“Thank you, you’ll love it, you’ll see.” Natasha’s whisper in her ear did nothing to quell the churning in her tummy when she looked across at the two men. Cat that got the cream sprang to mind, and she forced a smile on her lips, when Natasha finally released her, and Zeb and Arran made their goodbyes.
Heat flared up her arms when they both took one of her hands each and bending over them kissed them in an old fashioned gesture that made Kate want to swoon like a Regency heroine in the historical romance novels she liked to read.
“Until we meet again,” Arran said.
“I’ll look forward to your proper apology then, girl.”
Kate tried to snatch her hand away at Zeb’s outrageous words, but he held firm until she stopped struggling. Only then did he release her hand after he turned it over and dropped a lingering kiss on the rapidly beating pulse in her wrist.
With a smirk to send her bikini bottoms aflame he winked at her, and left her to stare after the departing forms of him and his twin.
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Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Happily married for the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.
Stalk her in these places
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Do you believe in magic? My heroine Kate doesn’t. Not one little bit, so when she meets Zeb and Arran Harris at the spa-with-a-difference, she has no idea who these two hunks are—other than the men who set her bikini bottoms aflame with just one look.
Mind you, that insta-lust she feels does not mean that she’ll just roll over and forget about this magic act they do. Panthers, really?
It’s just downright cruel to subject such majestic animals to the glare of the stage lights.
Everything changes when Kate actually goes to see their performance, and she realizes the men are shifters. You can’t mistreat an animal that is in fact human, can you?
Well, maybe not…and it doesn’t really matter, because she can’t resist her men either. When they are in trouble, there is only one thing for it. Kate has to rescue them from themselves.
She might only be human, but she’ll show that overbearing council that human or not, she will and can fight for her Sirs.
Zeb doesn’t call her wildcat for nothing…
Prepare to laugh, cry, and get somewhat hot and bothered, because when these three get together, they ignite the pages.
There’s no such thing as magic…Kate doesn’t believe in it, let alone the panther sort Arran and Zeb Harris are famous for. Using animals in their act is just downright cruel. If only she could convince her libido of that. Instead she seems to have fallen head over heels in lust with those sex-on-legs twin brothers. Getting laid will cure this, surely?
When panther shifters Arran and Zeb scent their mate, they know they’ll have a fight on their hands. The delectable human morsel might be submissive, but Kate has spirit, never mind the small matter she has no idea shifters exist.
They want her submission freely given and not forced upon her by the mysterious mating bond. However, when their panthers kill while rescuing Kate, that bond might well be the only thing to keep them alive.
It’s up to Kate to save her Sirs.
Purchase Links:
Evernight ARe Bookstrand Amazon B&N
“Have you actually seen our act?” Arran’s softly spoken question took the wind out of her righteous sails somewhat, and she tried her best to glare at him, too, which lasted all of two seconds under his quiet regard. One eyebrow rose in query, and with his full mouth set in a grim line, he radiated disapproval, and she couldn’t bring herself to hold his gaze. Instead she shook her head, and she dropped it down to his muscle packed chest, which was not helping one iota. Wrenching her gaze upward again, she finally settled for staring at his jaw. Mind you, that, too, was far too distracting, covered as it was in designer stubble. It simply drew her attention to his strong neck and the way his Adam’s apple moved as he spoke, even more softly this time. There was no mistaking the edge to his words though that made her want to sink to her knees and apologize.She once heard it said that a true Dom didn’t need to raise his voice, and she’d never truly understood that until this moment, and they weren’t even in a scene. Lord help her if they ever were.
“So, tell me, sweet thing, how can you form an opinion on how we treat the animals we use if you’ve never seen us in action?”
Kate wanted the ground to swallow her up whole. He had a point there, she guessed, but, bugger it all to hell and back if she was going to admit that.
She settled for shrugging her shoulders, and jumped when Zeb grasped her chin and thus gave her no choice but to look up at him.
“Give us the courtesy of looking at us when you condemn us without knowing all the facts, girl. Shrugging your shoulders like that is downright rude, and I think you know what happens to rude girls. If you think yourself safe from recriminations, because we’re in a public space, then think again. I have no compunction of putting you over my knee right now.”
Natasha’s loud gasp broke the tense moment, and Zeb smiled and released her as abruptly as he had grasped her.
“Sorry, Sir.” Kate had to murmur that quiet apology, when the loss of his touch on her skin left her curiously at sea. Approval flashed across his far too handsome features, and Kate got the oddest sensation when she stared into his eyes. They seemed to briefly flash to a soft, glowing yellow, before she blinked, and she looked back into their more usual warm chestnut.
“However, Sir,” she said and Zeb frowned and Arran gave a short laugh, and shook his head in what seemed to be wry amusement. “You are not my Dom. I have not agreed to a scene, and if you tried to put me over your knee in any way shape or form without my agreement, public space or not, I’d have you up for an assault charge faster than you can say poor mistreated cat.”
There, put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Kate crossed her arms again, in an effort to hide her trembling hands, and focused on Natasha, instead of the two overbearing hunks in front of her. Despite her insides churning like clothes on a spin cycle, her lips twitched at the open mouthed expression on her friend’s face.
Talk about giving her a demonstration to prove the point that submissive didn’t equal doormat. They’d had that discussion only this morning on their way over to the spa. Then again, Kate was the first to admit that she was a rather bratty sub at the best of times.
“She’s got you there, bro.” Arran’s amused voice brought Kate’s attention back to him, and she lost herself in the smile he gave her. That smile alone would guarantee that most females would drop their knickers in an instant. Not that she was most females, and besides she wasn’t wearing knickers. Bikini bottoms didn’t count, surely.
“I fear we’ve started off on the wrong foot somewhat, and for that I apologize, Kate.” He looked across at his brother and some sort of silent communication seemed to occur between the two men, because Zeb nodded, and he, too smiled, showing a set of even white teeth that must make his dentist very proud of him.
Kate groaned at her thought processes. This was beyond ridiculous, really. Why did these two get to her so much?
“There is an easy way of remedying this situation, however,” Arran said. “We would very much like to invite you to come and see one of our performances, as our VIP guests. You and Natasha both.”
He nodded at Natasha, and for the second time in the last few minutes, Kate’s friend looked as though she was going to have a heart attack.
“Oh, my, really? We’d love to come, wouldn’t we, Kate? Oh, this is so kind of you, really. Kate will be there, won’t you?”
It was on the tip of Kate’s tongue to deny this assumption, but the way Natasha implored her with her big feline eyes meant that she couldn’t, so instead she just gave a tight nod. Natasha’s squeal rang in her ears, and the two men’s tight shoulders relaxed. She hadn’t even noticed how tense they had become until that moment, and Kate briefly wondered why this seemed to mean so much to them, before she was pulled into a bear hug by Natasha.
“Thank you, you’ll love it, you’ll see.” Natasha’s whisper in her ear did nothing to quell the churning in her tummy when she looked across at the two men. Cat that got the cream sprang to mind, and she forced a smile on her lips, when Natasha finally released her, and Zeb and Arran made their goodbyes.
Heat flared up her arms when they both took one of her hands each and bending over them kissed them in an old fashioned gesture that made Kate want to swoon like a Regency heroine in the historical romance novels she liked to read.
“Until we meet again,” Arran said.
“I’ll look forward to your proper apology then, girl.”
Kate tried to snatch her hand away at Zeb’s outrageous words, but he held firm until she stopped struggling. Only then did he release her hand after he turned it over and dropped a lingering kiss on the rapidly beating pulse in her wrist.
With a smirk to send her bikini bottoms aflame he winked at her, and left her to stare after the departing forms of him and his twin.
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Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.Happily married for the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.
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May 28, 2015
New Release: Bad Larry and the Divorcee #Erotic #Humor #Suspense
Bad Larry and the Divorceeby M. Levesque
Contemporary / Erotic / Humor / Suspense Riya’s divorce gift to herself is to adopt a dog. Bad Larry and Riya meet at an animal shelter and quickly bond over their mutual hatred of men. Riya promises the little dog that she’ll never let anything bad happen to him again, if he promises to make it hard for her to bring any men back to her apartment, in a moment of weakness.
Jaden is investigating the murder of one of Riya’s high school classmates and after a strange first encounter in a public bathroom, he asks her out. She shoots him down but he’s determined to get to know her better, despite her warnings of owning a dangerous, man-hating dog.
Riya has no choice but to let Jaden into her life when she starts getting threatening letters from the killer but are she and Bad Larry ready to give Jaden an honest shot?
Purchase Links:
Evernight
Amazon
10% of author profits for Bad Larry and the Divorcee will be donated to animal rescue!
For updates on this and more please follow my blog at www.authoraddisonlockwood.wordpress.com
He peered at me through narrowed eyes. “I’ll get your purse but just so you know, we’re still going out, at least once. I like you.”“I can’t, I’m already in a relationship.” I said, desperately. I could feel my resolution dissolving very quickly under his blue-eyed stare.
“Are you in a relationship with a woman because you just told me you’ve given up on men?”
I chewed my bottom lip and his eyes darted down to my mouth. Just the fact that he noticed my mouth turned me on. What was wrong with me? “No, not with a woman. It’s actually more of a really jealous roommate situation, than an actual relationship.”
“Cats and goldfish don’t count,” he said, cueing in on my vagueness.
“Ha, joke’s on you, he’s a Doberman named Bad Larry and Larry likes men less than I do.” Bad Larry is actually a twelve-pound Miniature Pinscher but he really doesn’t like men and he doesn’t really know he’s only twelve pounds and he has a rap sheet to prove it.
I got Larry when the divorce was finalized. My ex didn’t like dogs so in an act of admittedly impulsive rebellion, I got Larry. Larry was a rescue from an animal shelter and when I saw him for the first time and discovered that he didn’t like men either, we became best friends. I promised to never let anyone hurt him again and he promised to make sure that in a moment of hormonal weakness, I didn’t let any men come back to my apartment.
I’d witnessed Larry in action twice. Once when the vet was checking him over before I brought him home and once when I was taking him out to pee and a construction worker tried to pet him. Larry is now on a city mandated bad dog list, meaning that he has to behave himself from now on or he could be taken away and put in puppy lifer prison.
Jaden shook his head at me and returned a moment later with my purse in one hand and his phone in the other. “I have to go right now but I put my card in your purse just in case you change your mind about Skittles.”
I winked at him. “You got it stud, but right now I have an emergency date with the box of baking soda currently deodorizing my fridge.”
He smiled broadly at me. “Tell Bad Larry I said hello.”
“Bad Larry doesn’t need to know about you. Trust me, it’s for your own protection.”
May 23, 2015
New Release: An Appetite for Blackmail #SciFi #futuristic #Erotic
AN APPETITE FOR BLACKMAIL -The Weathermen 1
When Harper Mathews gets drunk with a friend and hacks into her boss’s personal accounts, Arturo (Ace) Charles Easton gives her a choice. Work as part of his secret hacking team, searching for clues to the people who infiltrated a weather control program, or face unemployment and jail.
But working as part of this team isn’t all that Ace demands from Harper. He also expects her in his bed, when he wants her there, how he decides to make love to her, and for as long as he desires.
Ace is part of a group of friends financing the efforts to put a stop to The Madeline Project. These men have power, resources, and money, but they’re as ruthless and possessive as the storms ravaging Earth.
They call themselves the Weathermen…
***Click HERE to purchase directly from
Evernight Publishing***
Also available at these fine retailers:
AMAZON US
AMAZON UK
AMAZON CA
AMAZON AUS
“It’s breathtaking, Ace. Truly.” The room smelled like him, and she inhaled deeply, letting the scent fill her head. There was an electric fireplace on one wall, already lit, and she caught sight of a mini bar on another wall. He’d thought of everything for this room. It was the ultimate seduction space.She turned to face him. “Maybe we should talk about the other conditions now?”
He took her lemonade and placed the glass on a table, where Harper watched it start to leave a water ring. But he either didn’t care or didn’t notice as he put his wine glass next to it. Then he sighed once, and placed one hand on each shoulder. His touch sent tiny shivers down her spine, and she knew it would be impossible to say no to him.
No other man had ever affected her this way. She’d spent a year both despising him for that, and fantasizing about this, right here and now. Being in his bedroom, about to have sex with him. But at what price? To become another notch in his belt?
That’s not what she wanted. But Harper knew as she stared into his dark eyes, waiting for him to speak, that Ace wanted nothing more than that. Not from any woman. He’d made that perfectly clear. So if she did do this, at least she could tell herself she’d known exactly what she was getting into. If she knew his expectations, she’d have a framework for keeping her emotions in check.
“Here’s what I want from you,” he said. His voice had taken on a sultry, commanding tone that she hoped wasn’t the result of too much wine. She needed her thoughts crystal clear from this point on. “I expect you to be available to me when I ask, as often as I ask, and for as long as I want you with me. I won’t interfere with any family functions you have to attend, or with your work, but the rest of your time belongs to me.”
“I don’t have any family here.”
A quick flash of sympathy passed across his face, but it was gone so quickly she thought she’d imagined it. He didn’t know about her parents. How could he?
“Of course. All right. But if something comes up that you need to attend, let me know.”
“I will.”
He studied her face carefully for a few seconds. Too carefully, as if he were trying to choose his next words. Her body trembled with anticipation and need, and she wished he’d just come out and say it already.
“When we’re out, I expect you to wear what I ask you to wear, and I expect you to conduct yourself in a mature and professional manner.”
Wait a minute. “Are you saying I usually don’t?”
“No, not at all. But when we’re in public, what you do and say reflects on me. I’m asking you to remember that.”
“We’ll be out in public together? You mean on dates?”
His gaze softened. “I told you this wasn’t only about sex, Harper. Yes, we will go out together. And speaking of sex, when you’re here, I expect to make love to you.”
Her exhale came out in a shaky gasp as images flashed through her mind. He moved his hands down her arms, slowly, and at the same time stepped closer to her until she could feel the heat coming off his body. “I expect to make love to you in every way I choose. I expect you to be adventurous, and at least try all the things I want to do with you.”
Oh … what kinky, decadent things did he want to try?
He stepped closer still and planted a soft kiss on her left cheek. “You owe me now.” Harper couldn’t stop the moan this time as his hands brushed across her abdomen. “You have a debt to pay.” Ace moved his hands to her hips, and then around to her ass where they rested. She gasped as desire shot through her, hot and bright.
The intensity of her reaction surprised and unnerved her. She should protest this. She should tell him to go straight to hell. But she couldn’t move. She could barely take a full breath.
“I own you now, Harper. And I will decide when you’ve worked off your debt.” She tried to keep her mind clear, but when he bent his head to kiss her, she knew she was toast. She knew she’d let this man do anything he wanted to her.
Series Info:
The year is 2124 and something has gone terribly wrong with The Madeline Project. Designed to control weather, the computer program is now functioning on its own, thanks to a virus called Tommy Twister. Earth’s surface is bombarded with unpredictable, spontaneous severe storms. If you’re not underground, you have little chance of survival.
Several teams of storm chasers from all over the planet risk their lives trying to collect data during the storms, in the hopes it will help researchers shut down the program. Meanwhile, a group of men work behind the scenes controlling all of Earth’s communications systems. They have the power and the money to keep the Storm Troopers supplied with equipment and the latest technology, and they will stop at nothing to find the hackers responsible for sending The Madeline Project rogue.
Ruthless, greedy, and powerful, these men were at the top of the communications industry when The Madeline Project turned into a nightmare, and they still run their empires. Living underground hasn’t changed anything for them. It’s only increased their supremacy and reputation. They call themselves The Weathermen…
***BOOKMARK THIS PAGE FOR UPDATES: http://ravennatate.blogspot.com/p/the-weathermen.html****
May 22, 2015
New Release: The Contract #RotG #Romance
Thank you so much for offering to host me while I show of my new Romance on the Go story, The Contract.
I really enjoy writing RotG and getting a full story into such a short length. I love reading them as well. They're perfect for a soak in the bath with a glass of wine, and good music. Though if you're reading the Contract it maybe ought to be a mojito and Bob Marley, or Typically Tropical singing 'Oh I'm going to Barbados'. (Yes, okay you might need to be really old to remember that track.) Oh and sitting on the beach or by a pool in the sunshine.
What do you think?
Walking out of her job was the best thing Nikki Plummer ever did. What she didn't expect however, was to be tracked down by some hot bod, claiming she owed him.
Ruari Cameron has come to collect what he has paid for, but one look at Nikki, and there's only one thing he wants. Her in every facet of his life.
Of course convincing Nikki of this might take some doing...but he's more than ready to rise to the occasion.
Will they find their happy ever after under the Barbados sun?
Purchase Links:
www.evernightpublishing.com/the-contract-by-raven-mcallan
Hell’s bells, I hope he's not going to choke to death. Nikki stood up and thumped Ruari on the back until his choking slowed and stopped. His eyes were streaming, his chinos covered with best Jamaican brew, and he looked a mess. Her heart missed a beat and then raced. A gorgeous mess.
Oh glory, no. I do not want a complication like him in my life. No, no and NO. Damned if her heart ignored her and red hot, ‘oh my I wonder what if’, heat filled her. She ignored it as best she could. After all, hadn't he come to demand something of her and she had no idea what?
By the time Ruari's chest—a rather magnificent chest she judged even though it was covered in blue striped linen—stopped heaving, Nikki had her libido almost under control. Almost. She still had to admit he was a sight for sore eyes. And for an underused…she broke that train of thought off abruptly. She was not going to think of her lack of a sex life.
"I think maybe I'd best feed you. Food for the tummy not the soul." Nikki went into the kitchen, dampened a clean tea-towel and took it out to Ruari. "I'd say take them off and I'll shove them in a washer, but you'll need to wear a sheet or a towel if I do. I don't have any men's togs around."
"A sheet will do, I'm burning my bits off here." He dribbled the cool water from the tea-towel over his groin and sighed. "Better, much better."
She hadn't thought of that. "Then the bathroom is the third on the left. There's plenty of towels and I'll find a sheet."
Ruari disappeared at a fast waddle. His uneven gait, she suspected, had something to do with his desire to keep hot coffee away from tender skin. Nikki followed more slowly. She wasn't sure if her reawakened sex drive could cope with Ruari in a sheet.
As she rummaged through the airing cupboard something caught her eyes. Navy…shorts… She remembered with a heartfelt sigh, just what the cotton garment was.
Shorts. Men's shorts that Rhonda used to sleep in, and had washed a few days earlier. Obviously they'd got mixed up with the sheets and pillowcases and been forgotten. But would they be big enough? She held them up, doubtfully. Ah well at least he had a choice.
A multi-published, best selling author of erotic romance, Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband, in a house much too big for them—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge. As once she is writing she is oblivious to everything else, her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.
http://www.ravenmcallan.com
http:/ /www.ravenmcallan.blogspot.com
https://www.facebook.com/rmcallan (my page)
https://www.facebook.com/ravenmcallan (author page)
https://twitter.com/RavenMcAllan
http://www.amazon.com/Raven-McAllan/e/B00694RHJI/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_11?qid=1408015501&sr=1-11
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Raven-McAllan/e/B00694RHJI/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_11?qid=1408015501&sr=1-11
I really enjoy writing RotG and getting a full story into such a short length. I love reading them as well. They're perfect for a soak in the bath with a glass of wine, and good music. Though if you're reading the Contract it maybe ought to be a mojito and Bob Marley, or Typically Tropical singing 'Oh I'm going to Barbados'. (Yes, okay you might need to be really old to remember that track.) Oh and sitting on the beach or by a pool in the sunshine.
What do you think?
Walking out of her job was the best thing Nikki Plummer ever did. What she didn't expect however, was to be tracked down by some hot bod, claiming she owed him.
Ruari Cameron has come to collect what he has paid for, but one look at Nikki, and there's only one thing he wants. Her in every facet of his life.
Of course convincing Nikki of this might take some doing...but he's more than ready to rise to the occasion.
Will they find their happy ever after under the Barbados sun?
Purchase Links:
www.evernightpublishing.com/the-contract-by-raven-mcallan
Hell’s bells, I hope he's not going to choke to death. Nikki stood up and thumped Ruari on the back until his choking slowed and stopped. His eyes were streaming, his chinos covered with best Jamaican brew, and he looked a mess. Her heart missed a beat and then raced. A gorgeous mess.Oh glory, no. I do not want a complication like him in my life. No, no and NO. Damned if her heart ignored her and red hot, ‘oh my I wonder what if’, heat filled her. She ignored it as best she could. After all, hadn't he come to demand something of her and she had no idea what?
By the time Ruari's chest—a rather magnificent chest she judged even though it was covered in blue striped linen—stopped heaving, Nikki had her libido almost under control. Almost. She still had to admit he was a sight for sore eyes. And for an underused…she broke that train of thought off abruptly. She was not going to think of her lack of a sex life.
"I think maybe I'd best feed you. Food for the tummy not the soul." Nikki went into the kitchen, dampened a clean tea-towel and took it out to Ruari. "I'd say take them off and I'll shove them in a washer, but you'll need to wear a sheet or a towel if I do. I don't have any men's togs around."
"A sheet will do, I'm burning my bits off here." He dribbled the cool water from the tea-towel over his groin and sighed. "Better, much better."
She hadn't thought of that. "Then the bathroom is the third on the left. There's plenty of towels and I'll find a sheet."
Ruari disappeared at a fast waddle. His uneven gait, she suspected, had something to do with his desire to keep hot coffee away from tender skin. Nikki followed more slowly. She wasn't sure if her reawakened sex drive could cope with Ruari in a sheet.
As she rummaged through the airing cupboard something caught her eyes. Navy…shorts… She remembered with a heartfelt sigh, just what the cotton garment was.
Shorts. Men's shorts that Rhonda used to sleep in, and had washed a few days earlier. Obviously they'd got mixed up with the sheets and pillowcases and been forgotten. But would they be big enough? She held them up, doubtfully. Ah well at least he had a choice.
A multi-published, best selling author of erotic romance, Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband, in a house much too big for them—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge. As once she is writing she is oblivious to everything else, her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.
http://www.ravenmcallan.com
http:/ /www.ravenmcallan.blogspot.com
https://www.facebook.com/rmcallan (my page)
https://www.facebook.com/ravenmcallan (author page)
https://twitter.com/RavenMcAllan
http://www.amazon.com/Raven-McAllan/e/B00694RHJI/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_11?qid=1408015501&sr=1-11
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Raven-McAllan/e/B00694RHJI/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_11?qid=1408015501&sr=1-11
May 21, 2015
New Release! Jack the Stripper #UF #Paranormal
Welcome to The Purple Dee. Pull up a chair and get settled in, the show will start soon! Our featured performer tonight is Jack the Stripper. He's Jack Severn, newly back from the dead. He's magical, he's hot, but evil he's not!
Jim Ling-Li, Necromancer extraordinaire, brought him back to life, gave him some extra features, and, as you'll see, made him irresistible --
Especially to Jack's ex-girlfriend Brianna. Jack's sexier than ever, and they're better together. But she doesn't want to risk her heart, not again, and definitely not with a zombie.
Jack also has a mission. He's back to catch the Heart Taker, the mutant that's been terrifying human and undead alike. His current obsession's none other than Jack's Brianna.
So give a big hand for Jack...he's going to need all the support he can get to catch his own murderer.
*Jack the Stripper was originally published by Loose Id as "Zombie Jack". It has been re-edited and re-issued by Evernight Publishing.
Now available at Evernight Publishing!
His arm fell off again. The first time it happened, he’d been holding a heavy suitcase. A woman noticed and let out a terrified scream. He looked down. The suitcase lay on the ground, his hand still gripping it.“Ahhhh!” he screamed too. Suddenly everyone in the bus station was either screaming or running. Panicked, he grabbed his arm, first having to pry his fingers off the suitcase, and fled.
With the bus station far behind him, he slowed down and tried to take stock of his situation. He was lost. His arm had fallen off. Well, it could be worse. At least he hadn’t lost it. He took his shirt halfway off and popped his arm back into its socket—getting it backwards the first time.
It was so bizarre. His arm was like part of a toy that popped in and out of its socket. A strange, magnetic, magical effect held it together. At least he didn’t feel anything and it wasn’t too gross once you got used to seeing bare bone and muscle. No blood. No pain. No suitcase—he’d left it in the bus station. No clean clothes. A raindrop landed on his nose. Then the sky opened up and let down a deluge. Great.
Hunching his shoulders against the rain, he hurried down the street, letting his instinct guide him. A sort of whispered tingle ran through his body, urging him this way and that. It was the same sort of tingling pull that made him go to the bus station. It had led him this far—he might as well follow it to see where he’d end up. The mysterious force coursing through his body tugged him along, and then spun him around and pushed him into a dark, narrow alleyway.
He looked around. At one end of the alley was a dumpster. At the other end was the quiet street where he’d arrived. He knew where he was. Things were starting to fall into place.
He waited a few minutes, but no one had followed him. He sighed, and went to the green door. He tried the handle, but it was locked, and when he pulled it, his arm fell off again.
Depression and dismay rolled over him. He bent down, picked up his arm, and put it back in place. Nothing was going right. He kept hoping he’d wake up from the nightmare he found himself in, but it wasn’t happening. He was dead, and he had no place to go except here. Timidly, he rapped on the green door. No one answered, so he knocked harder, and then, when the door remained shut, he made a fist and pounded with all his might.
After a few moments it opened and a man with long blond hair down to his waist peered out at him. The man rubbed bloodshot blue eyes, yawned, and then said, “You’re too early for the audition. It won’t be for another couple hours.” With that, he shut the door in Jack’s face.
Audition? Jack blinked, backed up, and looked more carefully at the green door. Taped to the door was a sign. “Auditions. All day Sunday.”
He rapped on the door again, and the blond man opened it. He looked cross. “Look man, it says starting at 2 p.m.”
“It says all day Sunday,” said Jack. “Is today Sunday?”
“Of course.” The blond man looked perplexed. “All day Sunday? Let me see that.” He stepped out and examined the sign. “Right.” He looked at Jack. “Wait a minute.” He went inside. A minute later he was back with a felt-tipped pen. Carefully, he blacked out the “All day” and wrote, “Starting at 2 p.m.”. Putting the top back on the pen he nodded. “Better.”
“Could I wait inside?” Jack asked. “It’s raining.”
The blond man had been about to shut the door. He scratched his head then shrugged. “All right. You can wait in the lounge. Follow me.”
Gratefully, Jack entered the building where he was pretty sure he’d been killed.
Author Links
www.jennifermacaire.com
http://jennifer-tri-via.blogspot.fr/
