Tracy St. John's Blog, page 211

Monday Man Time

Yes, I'm late this morning.  I'm on vacation though, as I will be for much of the month.  But I'm not going to leave you Monday Man-less!  Do you like tattoos?  If so, you'll enjoy these inked speciMENs!

Six Sentence Sunday – (WIP) The Phucket List

            "Stop talking about drinks, damn it.  My most important employee, my right hand, suddenly quits out of the blue and I'm not supposed to be upset?"            "You haven't heard the beverage menu yet.  Coffee, tea . . . or . . . me?"            Frank was stunned by her offer.  Had he heard her correctly? 

Random Saturday – The Delicious Dom

Being a writer means I get to cook up new characters all the time.  Obviously, the usual favorite character in any given book is the hero.  I have the distinct honor of putting together a man that excites me.  Who intrigues me.  Who can make my current fantasy come true.  In my case, that means an extremely alpha male, or a Dominant/Master type.  But what ingredients go into creating this delectable morsel and will make this man good enough to eat?
I have basic ingredients I use with each and every hero.  In no particular order, this is what I throw in the pot:
- An assertive personality, one which likes to be in control- An inner strength that does not waver in the face of obstacles- An instinctive need to protect his lover (submissive), even when that sub is perfectly capable of taking care of him/herself- A commitment to see to the emotional and physical needs of his sub, whether it’s wanted from him or not – and even when the sub is fighting his efforts with everything he/she’s got- Fierce devotion to a worthy cause, ideal, or person/people- Some vulnerability that allows empathy for others’ pain
My heroes have all these qualities in varying degrees of strength.  Even the most laid-back Imdikos of the Clans of Kalquor series meet the assertive criteria in some fashion:  Flencik approving the spanking Amelia received, Egilka taking Jessica in the woods and having his way, Degorsk tormenting Cassidy with pleasure, Vax taking a stand against Bacoj de-clanning Lindsey, Krijero ruthlessly asserting his dominance over Dani.  And don’t even get me started about the Dramoks and Nobeks.
The Dom is committed to the heroine above all else, at least by the end of the story.  His loyalties might lie elsewhere when we first meet him, and they may even be in opposition to the heroine’s welfare (The Font has such a dilemma).  But when all is said and done, nothing is more important to the hero than his beloved … even at high personal cost.
Sure, the Dom might come off as a bastard at times.  In fact, I saw someone refer to the clan from Alien Slave as ‘bastards but not assholes’.  I can live with that.  Gelan, Wynhod, and Krijero are not always kind to heroine Dani.  They make no bones about exerting complete control over her, going as far as to make her their sex slave.  They spank her, chastise her, and verbally dress her down.  But there is never any doubt her welfare is of the utmost importance to them.  They risk their lives to save hers, doing everything in their power to keep her safe.  And in the end, they hand her control to her destiny, without any guarantee that destiny includes them … even though all three are hopelessly in love with her.
Assertiveness, strength, caring, commitment, devotion, and empathy.  Maybe a pinch of bastard, hold the asshole.  Add them all to the pot and stir well.  To this concoction, I add any spices I prefer to accent the story just right, and another delicious Dom is served.  Bon appetite!

The Font - Now Available

So it's a little early ... but it's available for Kindle, Nook, and Smashwords.  You can also pick up a paperback copy it your fetish is tree-book. ;)


Naya Woods is not what she seems.  Her potent blood gives unstoppable power to Heriolf, vampire king of southeast Georgia, allowing him to kill anyone in his path.  His terrified subjects, led by noble vampire Elisha Midyet, band together to kidnap Naya in hopes of weakening and destroying Heriolf.  Elisha knows the innocent woman in his possession must die for the good of human and vampire alike.  But how do you kill the woman you love?
Length:  Novella (under 50,000 words)Genre:  Paranormal erotica
Warning:  Sexually explicit scenes and adult language may be offensive to some readers.   This book contains BDSM elements of questionable consent, bondage, and Dom/sub play as well as non-erotic scenes of rape and violence performed by the villain. 
Excerpts
Heriolf looked over his subjects, feeling Naya’s warmth so very close.  She smelled of wooded paths, of autumn leaves, of wilderness.  She’d been exploring the forest that surrounded the mansion again, and it worried him.  She was vulnerable to the human slaves of his enemies, of which he was sure he had many.  But keeping one of Naya’s kind indoors all of the time was an impossibility if he wanted her to remain sane.  And he did like her with her faculties intact, wanted to keep her that way for as long as possible.  Perhaps one day it would be necessary to imprison her, visiting only to take the blood that made him invincible.  Should that day come he would lock her away without a speck of conscience, though he might have a moment of remorse.  Willing fonts were so much better than those that fought him.Still, the thought his enemies might target Naya nagged at Heriolf.  That he had enemies, he was positive.  Randalf’s disappearance was proof of that.  His dedicated aide had been gone over a month now, and Heriolf felt sure he had been visited by his final death.  But which of these who attended him now had been behind it?  His ability to read minds had not uncovered the traitor in the vampires’ midst.  Even now, as he listened to their thoughts one at a time hoping for a clue, there was no indication of who had taken Randalf.Instead there were only thoughts of blood and of sex, the inane wanderings of insignificant minds.  So bendable, so easy to terrorize and cajole were the other vampires.  As long as the animal hungers were met, his subjects were as much sheep as the humans they’d once been.  Heriolf’s takeover had been met with barely an outcry, even when he’d destroyed the council members that had once ruled southeast Georgia.  Not when he’d bribed so many into complacency.  And those who had fought against him?  He’d easily overpowered them, Naya’s blood giving him the strength and prior knowledge of those who would defy him.  His rise to supremacy had been almost laughably easy.But now Randalf was gone, an overt challenge to Heriolf’s rule.  Well, the greed of his subjects remained one of Heriolf’s greatest tools, and he knew well how to use it.He stood and the room fell silent at once.  Without preamble he announced, “Many of you know my trusted aide Randalf.  He has been missing for over a month now.  I am eager to discover his whereabouts, so if any have heard anything, even just rumors, I am prepared to make it worth your while for sharing information with me.”He gestured to the whimpering feast, enough for his subjects to glut themselves on.  And they would tonight, drinking and fucking themselves into a thrall.  It wouldn’t end until every last human on the buffet had been raped and sucked dry.  “You will feed at my table for a year, if the information you share makes it so Randalf can be found.”Excited murmurs rose in the room at this announcement.  Heriolf never lacked for blood, his hunting done by others.  To not have to chance human discovery, to not have to prowl all night long for sustenance at the edges of civilization would indeed be a luxury for most.Then Heriolf offered what he knew would ultimately out the traitor.  He nodded to Naya.  “And a taste of the sweetest blood of all if someone brings him to me, or those who may have been foolish enough to take him away.”Louder conversation, excitement lighting many a face.  Despite his attempts to keep Naya’s true importance quiet, rumors had spread.  For the Font’s part, she looked at Heriolf with shocked horror.He gave her a slight shake of his head, assuring her of his lie.  He would never let another taste even one drop of her blood.  She belonged to him alone.Mollified, Naya went back to looking aloof.  Later she would chastise him for offering such a thing, and he would apologize and reaffirm how he would forever look after her, keeping her safe as he had for almost twenty years.  His profuse exclamations of contrition would even make her feel a little guilty that she had doubted him for even an instant.  Heriolf had been dancing with Naya for most of her life now, and he knew all the steps.  Leading her was as easy as ruling the vampires.As for anyone who did give him the information he sought, he would offer a few drops of another’s blood in a cup, some young child snatched from its bed perhaps.  Young ones did taste the best, and who would argue that perhaps it was not Naya’s blood?  No one that wanted to keep his second life going.And if someone suggested he was due a draught straight from the Font herself?  Let the fools only try to sip from her and they will know a final death too horrible to be contemplated.Naya was his.  Heriolf wasted no conscience on the ethics of double-crossing those who presumed too much.* * * *            It was a battle to keep the grim smile off Elisha’s face.  Randalf had gone to his final death as soon as he’d given up all he knew of the Font.  Considering how he’d helped Heriolf kill so many, including Elisha’s sire, it was justice long overdue.            As Heriolf’s ice-brittle gaze swept in his direction, Elisha concentrated on muddying his thoughts.  He pushed forth false deliberations of how ironic it would be to eat at Heriolf’s table since the king killed his sire, how lucky he was he didn’t have to pay for his sire’s treachery against the mighty ruler.  Perhaps he could find a way to ingratiate himself with Heriolf?  Take the missing Randalf’s place?Heriolf’s gaze went elsewhere, and Elisha relaxed.  He felt dirty from the false ruminations he’d put forth, for the pretended ill thoughts of his maker, the wise council member Thaddeus.  Had Elisha loved his birth father so much?  He thought perhaps not.  Thaddeus had rescued Elisha from a life of pain and torment, a life of neverending sorrow.  He had owed his sire so much, and the elder vampire’s final death had taken away all chances to repay the debt, save one.You will be avenged, my maker, Elisha thought.  Or I will go to my final death attempting it.A long, spare vampire stepped to Heriolf’s side for a brief word.  Elisha decided Lyndon, who’d been turned barely fifty years prior, must be Randalf’s replacement.After a quick consultation, Lyndon called to the congregation.  “We will begin the ceremony.  Let the new subjects of our master Heriolf step forward to swear their fealty.”About thirty vampires moved forward towards the seated self-proclaimed king.  Elisha wasn’t interested in any of the supplicants hoping to join the Savannah vampires.  He watched the stone-faced Naya, letting Lyndon’s nasal tones wash over him.  “You who have joined King Heriolf’s realm this last year have drawn numbers.  Let the first step forward and beg the master’s favor.”The first vampire, a very new member of the undead judging from the extravagance of his multicolored tattoos, took a step forward and knelt on one knee before Heriolf.  “I come from the northeast region where vampires are bid to stay hidden and feed upon the blood of animals.  The leaders there have forgotten our supremacy over the human cattle, upon which we should feed on exclusively.  King Heriolf, you are known to keep to the old ways, where a vampire hunts his prey with pride and feeds well until it dies.  I swear unto you my loyalty until final death turns my body to ash.”He looked ridiculous to Elisha with his black eye makeup and lipstick and all those garish tattoos, but his speech showed an educated mind.  Too bad he wasted such pretty words on a lout like Heriolf.  The old Norseman puffed up like a toad with self-importance, no doubt fed by the flattery.His gravelly voice boomed.  “You are welcome on my lands to live as a vampire was meant to.  I welcome you and bid you to feast at my table.”  With an exaggerated sweep of one huge hand, Heriolf indicated the bound humans.  The vampire stood, bowed deeply to the master vampire, and stalked over to the row of naked bodies lying on the floor.  He immediately yanked up a young, comely woman who screamed around her gag.  She struggled uselessly, her wrists tied tightly behind her back, as the vampire took her to a nearby banquet table and laid her upon it.As Heriolf’s newest subject bit into her neck, he freed his penis from black leather pants.  He raped her as he drank her life, drawing blood with fang and cock.  The watching company cheered him on as he took what Heriolf claimed was the vampire’s due.  The poor girl had probably been snatched from a college campus or during a night stroll on the beach.  As far as Heriolf was concerned humans were cattle, creatures existing solely for the pleasure of vampires.  He had little concern that the growing predations on the local population would be noticed, putting the vampires of southeast Georgia in danger of discovery.Not to mention the destruction of innocent lives was just plain wrong.As the girl’s struggles weakened and her screams faded, Elisha stole a glance at Naya.  Her pale blond head had turned from the disgusting display, and her tiny fists were clenched.  Heriolf whispered to her, and she shook her head.Another burst of cheers from the vampires brought Elisha’s attention back to the feeding.  The newly welcomed vampire rose from his now dead meal and joined the crowd as his victim fell from the table to the floor like a boneless rag doll.  Human servants, thin, gray-skinned beings, scurried to remove her.Lyndon grinned like a game show host.  “Let us have the next candidate.”A female vampire moved forward, her bobbed brunette hair and flapper-styled dress suggesting she last drew breath during the Roaring ‘20’s.  Her white kid gloves were spotless.  She took several steps forward, closing the distance to Heriolf.  He smiled at her, but Elisha noticed how sharp his ice-chip eyes became.  She offered a curtsey.  “Glorious King Heriolf, I come to you in all humility to—”“To murder me and take my place.”  Heriolf laughed into the shocked silence.  “I hear your thoughts, fool.  Have you not been told of my powers?  Of my absolute omnipotence?”The female vampire didn’t wait to hear more.  She sprang at Heriolf, a silver blade in her gloved hand.  She was fast.  Heriolf was faster.The Norseman seized the flapper in mid-air and ripped her in half at the waist as if tearing a sheet of paper.  He flung the two parts to the marble floor.  Blood sprayed, and Naya ducked the splatter by crouching behind Heriolf’s chair.  His massive bare chest covered in the twitching vampire’s blood, Heriolf roared at the assembled.  “I am not only your master, I am your god!  Who else will challenge me?”No one spoke.  No one moved.  Elisha caught Sebastian’s gaze with his own.  Moving carefully, he knelt and bowed his head.  Everyone around him immediately followed suit, and less than a second later, every vampire, except the ones standing guard near Heriolf and Naya, had gone to their knees.There were a few moments of utter silence as the congregation awaited the tyrant’s next reaction.  Heriolf had been known to go into murderous rages, killing off a dozen vampires at one go just because they were unlucky enough to be at hand when he lost his temper.    Nothing can be as still as a vampire.  Even their hair was motionless, refusing to acknowledge the occasional errant breeze.Heriolf’s voice rolled through the room like distant thunder.  “Clean this up and continue the ceremony.”Human servants scurried out from the next room once more, collecting the two halves of the vampire.  She twitched, too stunned to mount a defense before they tossed her into the mammoth fireplace.  While other human servants quickly wiped blood from the floor, all were silent to listen to the would-be killer scream as the flames ate into her.  Fortunately, she went up quickly and died within a minute or two.His 100-watt smile dimmed to about 40, Lyndon still managed to speak smoothly.  “Let us have the next candidate.”The ceremony resumed.  Now on edge because of the failed attack, everyone’s nervous attention focused like lasers on the candidates presenting themselves.  Heriolf and his guards were as wary as everyone else, and Elisha took the opportunity to ease himself to the very back of the crowd.  He gained the dark hall of the manor with no one the wiser.His vampire-enhanced eyesight pierced the gloom with ease.  He passed closed doorways on his way to the foyer, where the stairway led up to the second floor.No one challenged him.  His co-conspirators had cleared the way for him, and he silently mounted the marble stairs with the hand-carved polished wooden rails.  Even his clothes did not rustle with movement.  Vampires learned quickly how to mask all sound from their passage.  All Elisha heard was the continuing drone of voices from the hall, and the very, very distant traffic that one never seemed to escape in this day and age.  The twisted trail that led to Heriolf’s abode was hidden from the roads by an overgrowth of palmettos and the rampant kudzu that blanketed old pines and oaks.  Most had forgotten the once popular Seward mansion even existed, and death waited for those intrepid historians who sought it out.Once in the second floor’s hallway, Elisha headed to the door at the end where flickering light seeped around its borders, keeping an eye on the closed doors he passed.  He barely noted the archaic but still deadly weapons that served as decorations on the walls:  a mace, swords, shields, a brutal double-bladed axe.  Heriolf may have well carried all these arms in his Viking career before being reborn as a vampire.The lit room beckoned:  Naya’s chamber.  Elisha opened the door cautiously, ready for an attack.  But no, his fellow rebels had indeed sought out and removed the vampires who guarded Naya more closely than Heriolf himself.  The only thing that rushed out at him was the soft, sweet scent of young human woman.  Elisha inhaled appreciatively.  The living always smelled of warm vitality, and the remnants of Naya’s aroma was richer than most.  It made him wonder, as they all had these past weeks, what made her so special among humans.It would not do to be caught hanging about outside her room, the light from it casting him in silhouette for all to see and report to Heriolf.  He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.Alone in Naya’s bedchamber, Elisha looked around to get a feel for his enemy’s secret weapon.There was a four poster canopied bed, the wood ornately carved, the curtains sheer.  A bedside table held a water pitcher and glass as well as the flickering hurricane lamp that cast dancing shadows on the light blue flowered wallpaper.  There was a vanity with a mirror, the reddish-brown wood polished to a high gloss.  Her hairbrush was made of ivory.  A few of her blond strands wound in the bristles.   There was little in the way of makeup; only two tubes of lipstick and one of mascara.  Elisha found himself nodding with approval at the Font’s apparent disdain for heavy makeup.  He went to the black walnut armoire and opened it.  It was full of dresses, all long and made of light, almost gossamer fabric.  It was a rainbow of pastels, all suited to flatter her fair skin and pale hair.Elisha went to the bed and drew back the thin veil of the curtain.  A mountain of soft pillows awaited the head that rested there.  Before he thought about what he was doing, he bent over and inhaled her scent.So fresh and electric, yet somehow subtle too.  She smelled of the woods, of nature, of life.  It aroused him, and for the first time Elisha wondered if Heriolf had visited the pleasure of Naya’s bed.  He thought of the lovely creature lying here, her long slender body naked, her thighs parting to admit a man…Elisha made himself stop.  He was to steal her from this place, to take her away so that Heriolf could no longer add her power to his.    The woman was a means to an end, no more.  Elisha vowed he would only taste her blood to verify she provided Heriolf’s strength.  He had no interest in her otherwise.

Countdown to The Font - Excerpt 4

He sat up and shrugged the shirt from his broad shoulders.  Moonlight through the trees gave her enough light to appreciate the ruggedness of his torso.  Her hands moved all over him, seeking to devour him through touch alone.  Elisha was beautiful.Naya circled his nipples with her fingertips, feeling how they grew rigid under her attention.  She rose to capture one in her mouth, sucking gently and flicking its tip with her tongue.  A slight exhale from Elisha let her know he enjoyed the sensation.Her hands slid down to tug at his belt.   Then the snap of his jeans was pulled loose, his zipper lowered.  Hooking his thumbs into his waistband, Elisha stood again and pushed his pants down, pausing to kick off his cowboy boots before finally revealing himself to her.Naya’s gaze filled with the naked vampire standing over her.  Like his upper body, his legs bore the muscles of someone who had known hard physical work.  Between the thick thighs was a dark curly triangle of hair from which his manhood stood at eager attention.  She shivered in anticipatory delight.  He had filled her with it before, and she was eager for him to do so again.Heriolf often strode about bare-chested, and his legs strained the fabric of his trousers.  He was much more muscular than Elisha.  Naya thought the vampire lord’s body looked almost comically exaggerated compared to the man who stood here in the moonlight.  Elisha was not delicate by any means but he was more finely made, a feast for the eyes as well as the body.“Perfect,” Naya breathed.  He smiled and kneeled next to her.  “Your turn,” he said.Elisha lifted her dress up and over her head.  Naya was grateful the capricious southern weather had turned warm again, only the slightest coolness wafting across her skin to make her nipples pebble.  Elisha’s calloused fingers tightened the sensitive nubs further.“You are lovely, Naya,” he whispered.  “Heriolf was mad to let you be.”His head ducked down, and he filled his mouth with one soft mound.   Naya couldn’t help but cry out to feel the rough silk of his tongue rub over her flesh.  His fangs dimpled her pliant skin as he suckled, but he was careful to not bite.  Elisha pulled back as he sucked hard, drawing her breast taut as he slowly released it.  Then his tongue flicked over the very tip several times, coaxing high-pitched whimpers from her throat.  His attention moved to the other breast, teasing it as ruthlessly as the first.He laid her flat to the ground once more, gathering her tiny wrists in one hand to pin over her head.  Elisha’s weight settled over her, making her immobile as he continued the sweet assault on her breasts.  While his mouth nipped and licked and sucked one, his free hand caressed and traced and gently pinched the other.  Pleasure swirled wildly where his touch went, and Naya moaned her enjoyment.  Being held down and made utterly vulnerable as he ravished her increased the thrill.“Now that I have the time and senses to enjoy you properly, that is exactly what I’m going to do,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked up at her.Naya could only shiver at the note of threat in his tone.  She trembled as his hand left her breast to skate down her ribcage, over the tiny swell of her belly, and down to stroke the softness of her pubic curls.There he paused, letting his fingertips swirl through the hair of her mound, close to where she was aching and wet.  He neared trembling flesh without touching her where she wanted him most.  She moved a little, trying to gain contact with that light, teasing touch.“No, Naya.  I want you to give yourself completely to me.”  His gentle voice belied the command of his words.“You can have me,” she promised.  “All of me.”“I don’t want just your body.  I want your obedience.  I want your surrender.”His words were confusing her.  Wasn’t she already his prisoner, subject to his demands?  “I’m giving myself to you.  What more can I offer?”He smiled, her benevolent captor.  “For this bit of time, while we are together like this, I want you to give up your will to me.  I wish for you to forget your wants in deference to mine.”“I don’t understand, Elisha.”“Your only responsibility is to let go.  You will submit to my authority and do all I ask.  You do not have to think of how to please me, because your service will do that.  Can you obey me, Naya?”Naya considered his words carefully, a difficult task considering he was still stroking her mound, coming so teasingly close to her most sensitive flesh but denying that precious contact.  She wanted him.  Her body begged for him.  And it really didn’t matter how it happened, as long as she could have him.“Whatever you wish, Elisha.  I’ll do what you tell me to,” she agreed.He smiled, and the expression made his handsome face almost ethereal with beauty.  Naya’s breath caught.  His kiss warmed her from head to toe.Elisha leaned away to fuss with his cloak.  He drew out the rope he’d taken from the train museum.  When he began to wrap a length of it around Naya’s wrists, she pulled back with a protest.“Elisha, what—”“I thought you would obey me, Naya.  I wish to bind you to help you concede to my wishes.”  He looked down at her patiently.There was no threat in his posture or expression.  Naya swallowed hard.  “What if I don’t like what you’re doing?  What if it’s something that really upsets me?”  She couldn’t imagine what he might do to her that would get such a reaction, but giving herself over to the point where she was actually physically helpless made her nervous.“Then tell me to stop.  I won’t force anything on you that you don’t want.”  He punctuated the promise with a tender kiss on her lips.  “There’s been enough taking without your permission, Naya.”            She couldn’t deny how delicious sex with Elisha had been, and she’d been helpless in truth during those encounters.  The first time he’d been overwhelmed by the potency of her blood; the second, it had been the insane hunger and need of a just-wakened vampire.  If Naya was honest, she had to admit the powerlessness she’d felt in his arms had been part of the attraction.  Now he was offering her the opportunity to simulate that vulnerability while having the ability to stop the encounter.            “You’ll really stop if I say to?”            “You have my word.”            She shivered a little, realizing how much she wanted him.  Enough to become utterly defenseless.  But he could rape her or kill her at any time as it was.  What difference would being tied up truly make?              “All right, Elisha.”  She shivered again.            He kissed her again, as sweetly as one could hope from a solicitous lover.  “You’ll be fine, Naya.  I will not harm you.”            She held still as he bound her wrists together.  Then he stretched the cord to a thin pine tree a foot away, tying it off around the trunk.  Elisha came back and stood over her.            “You are beautiful, Naya, tied helpless for my pleasure.”  His eyes on her were avid and bright in the light of the full moon.  He knelt down, spreading her legs so they straddled his thighs.  Naya was suddenly very aware of her sex being open, that he was seeing her most intimate parts.  She was utterly exposed to him, with no way to hide.  She instinctively pulled at the rope, wanting to cover herself against the vampire sight she knew penetrated the shadows so well.  Elisha could see at night as clearly as she did in the daylight.  “You will remain open to me,” he said quietly.  “Stop trying to close your legs, Naya.”She was pressing against his thighs she realized, attempting to shield her too vulnerable sex from his view.  She drew a deep breath and made herself relax.“Much better,” he said, and his approval warmed her as his kiss had.  “Now remain absolutely still.”Naya had never known how difficult remaining motionless could be until his fingers began tracing her nether lips with a light, teasing touch.  She seized at the sensation, everything below the waist spasming in reaction.  Her hips jerked.“Naya,” came Elisha’s deep voice, the tone disapproving.  “You said you’d obey.  Now do not move.”She’d heard Heriolf utter profane phrases that she thought might fit this occasion just fine.  Don’t move indeed!  And how was she to accomplish that when his fingers were so talented?  When he was touching places that brought darts of excruciating pleasure driving her insides to bubble and roil?Naya bit her lips together and concentrated on keeping her hips still.  She couldn’t do anything about the trembling that suffused her body, not when Elisha was so carefully tracing every fold, every petal of her womanhood.She could feel honey flowing from her, making those tormenting fingers slide easily over her flesh.  She peered at Elisha, wondering what he was thinking as he played with her.Their eyes met, and he deliberately withdrew his hand to slowly suck her juices from his fingers.  The groan that came from Naya was embarrassingly loud.“I agree,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting as he reached to fondle her anew.  “It’s not just your blood that is delicious.”

Countdown to The Font - Excerpt 3

Elisha flew through the night with a motionless Naya in his arms.  He held her close, knowing the chill of the season might affect her despite the coat she wore.  His companions had gone in different directions, to protect their minds from the knowledge of where she would be kept prisoner until the next night.   If Heriolf caught them and read their minds, they would have no information he could use to track the Font.            Half an hour after leaving Heriolf’s mansion behind, Elisha sighted the abandoned derelict church he was looking for.  He might have called it home had he done more than spend the dead daylight hours in his coffin there.  As he drifted down to it, the tang of pine from the nearby trees wafted to him.  They couldn’t cover the sweet scent of the woman he held.  He was eager to question her, to discover the secret of her blood.  Perhaps to find out why he’d gone against his nature and assaulted her with his lust.  To learn how she could escape his glamour so easily.            The moment he landed she stirred, proving she had yet again shaken off the effects of the trance he’d put her under.  Elisha tightened his hold on her, his booted feet soundless over the twigs and leaves that littered the ground.  Naya craned her neck to look at their surroundings.            “This is a church,” she said, her eyes wide as he carried her to the old wooden structure.  Its once-pristine white paint had grayed with time and weather, peeling in leprous patches in many places to expose the even grayer wood.  “Excellent observation,” Elisha said in his most discouraging tone.  He listened to the night, checking for sounds of pursuit.  All he discerned were the chorus of crickets, the sigh of the breeze through the pines, and the minute movements of small animals in the nearby woods.  Satisfied no one followed, he kicked open the door and carried her into the musty gloom.Moonlight peered in through the cracks and holes in the ceiling, slightly illuminating the debris-strewn pews, altar, pulpit, and rotting carpet.  Elisha’s eyes saw it all perfectly well, but Naya seemed to be blind.Only a slight tremor betrayed her fear.  “I thought Heriolf was the only vampire powerful enough to tread on holy ground.”“It has nothing to do with power.  I’m an atheist.  I don’t believe in the Christian god, therefore it cannot harm me.”He set Naya down on a clear bit of the frayed and water stained carpet.  She peered around, her eyes apparently adjusting to the dimness and allowing her to discern a little.Elisha frowned.  It had been over two centuries since he left his original life behind, but he was sure human eyes shouldn’t be able to see in this near blackness.  Yet Naya was walking down the center aisle, picking her way carefully around splintered boards and other tripping hazards.  What was she?Elisha followed her closely though she showed no signs of making a run for it.  She asked, “It makes sense a vampire’s faith determines whether he can tread on holy ground.  Heriolf worshipped pagan gods when he was alive, though he says he no longer believes in them.”“He hasn’t bought into the fiction concerning our kind.  But the fearful faith of most who serve him will keep them from coming in, no matter his threats.  If he enters, it will be alone.”“He will destroy you on his own.  He needs no one to help him.”  Naya’s tone was matter-of-fact, as if disclosing a great and undeniable truth.“He’ll have to catch me first.”As if his words were a signal, Naya suddenly swerved around him, running for the door.  Elisha caught her up around the waist, lifting her off her feet and pinning her against his body.  She struggled mightily, but it was as if a rabbit fought a bear.  She was no match for his strength, her tiny fists drumming his shoulders with no more force than a torrent of rain.While her writhing did nothing to tax him physically, feeling her warmth and smelling her scent intoxicated his senses.  The motions of her body against his sought to overcome Elisha’s morals again.  Passion blinded him to everything but the softness of the woman in his arms.  Desire beckoned with brutality, entreating him to feed and fuck until she moved no more.  He felt his civilized mind slip away, losing itself in the darkness of the night and his vampire soul.

Countdown to The Font - Excerpt 2

He searched his own head for his sense of Naya.  He could feel her when she was near, the blood she gave him like an invisible path for him to follow.  Her recent presence still burned in the room, shining bright next to his vacant throne, trailing out through the door nearby.  He closed his eyes and continued up the stairs, down the second floor hall, to her room……where an awful emptiness waited.The guard was frantic, as if still trying to make Heriolf understand.  “I saw them take her!  Three vampires with cloaks over their heads.  They flew to the south, too quickly for us to follow.  Four of our number are dead.”Terror and fury chase back Heriolf’s drunkenness.  Wanting to kill someone, anyone, he yanked his clothing into place.  He could start with the guard who’d brought him the news.  Shut that yapping mouth permanently.Don’t panic.  I still have the powers Naya’s blood grants me.  I’ll maintain my supremacy over the others for what, five days?  Isn’t that what the fool in the swamp told me?  It’s enough time to find her and take her back.And then he would kill to his black heart’s content.  He would kill in ways so heinous no one would ever dare to oppose him again.He bellowed though the hall had gone completely silent.  His voice echoed through the room, and Heriolf found the smallest bit of gratification when everyone cringed.  “Guards!  Everyone to me.”  As the surviving five members of his guard and his new aide Lyndon surrounded him, Heriolf said, “The Font has been stolen.  Bar the doors and let no one leave.  I will have the final deaths of all who have brought this upon me!”The guards rushed to slam the doors of the hall shut, but Heriolf saw there were far less vampires there than at the start of the ceremony.  This was not the act of a few then.  This was an actual uprising against him.“Anyone who dares to attempt escape will be staked and burned!”  To one guard who returned to his side, Heriolf muttered, “Bring me each person present, one at a time.  I will have their thoughts and discover who my enemies are.”            As the guard grabbed the first vampire he came to, dragging the startled woman to cower at Heriolf’s feet, Savannah’s lord vowed to himself that if every last vampire in his kingdom had to suffer his final death, he would recover his Naya.

WIP Wednesday - Countdown to The Font

Coming Friday to Kindle, Nook, and Smashwords


Naya listened to the dying sobs of the latest human victim, sickened to her limits.  She didn’t care for the excuse that these people were the worst of society, that each and every one of them had left a wake of destruction and despair behind them.  The ceremony was without conscience.  She had every intention of privately insisting Heriolf not allow them to occur anymore.  It was beneath him as a leader.Fortunately, the swearing-in portion of the ceremony had finally ended, the last new member of Heriolf’s contingent added.  Keeping her eyes down so that she wouldn’t have to look at the feeding supplicant, she leaned close to her guardian.  “My lord, since the formalities are concluded—”  She didn’t have to finish.  With magnanimity, Heriolf said, “Of course, my dear.  Retire for tonight.  I will see you tomorrow.”  Naya didn’t have to pretend gratitude.  “Thank you.”Just as she started to flee the room – she wouldn’t do anything so humiliating as actually run, but she knew fleeing was what she was doing nonetheless – Heriolf caught her hand.  She looked into his ice-chip eyes.  He gazed intently at her, seeming to seek her thoughts though she was the one person whose ruminations escaped him. “Good night, dear girl.”  He stroked her cheek, and Naya had to suppress a shudder at his look of possessiveness.  Yes, she would marry him, her guardian, her protector, her friend.  But Naya could not lie.  The thought of being his wife in the physical sense made her stomach twist with fear.“Good night, my lord.”  She gave him a smile that she felt tremble on her lips.He released her.  Naya swept out of the room, her guards following silently behind.  She breathed easier and her tense shoulders sank with relief as she gained the hall.Lyndon’s voice rang in the room she was quickly leaving behind.  “All may now join the feast in honor of this great night!”Screams hardly muffled by the gags stuffed in the human victims’ mouths followed Naya up the stairs.  Male and female, the feast was being devoured and raped, a double indignant end to life.  Naya kept her mind a careful blank, and not because anyone could read her thoughts.  It was enough that she could.She gained her room and shut the screams as well as the silent guards out with relief.  She looked around the chamber that was both sanctuary and cage.Not for the first time, Naya wondered what it would be like to live in the human world, among others of her own kind, far away from the vampires.  To have someone she loved at her side, to go to a job, to have friends.  Not that any of that would happen.  She’d been among vampires and their human servants since she was five.  After nineteen years she knew she wasn’t capable of making a go of it in the outside world.  Heriolf had protected her, yes; but his adoration had crippled her as well.  She’d been homeschooled by the adoptive parents he’d intimidated into caring for her properly, had been kept from other children, from the social mix of humans who didn’t serve the vampires.  She had no job skills, no career prospects.  She existed in a strange gray world that held no true peril, but offered no vibrancy either.Naya sighed.  Without Heriolf, she was nothing.  She had nowhere else to go, nothing to call her own, no one else to help her.  Loneliness seemed to be her lot, but she felt she’d made peace with it.She went to her armoire and swung the doors open.  The dress she wore, as light as a dream, came off to be hung with the others.  Naya wore no underclothes.  She felt best nude, unfettered by the nuisance of clothing.  Only when her skin was exposed did she feel she could truly breathe.  With Heriolf having already taken his taste of her blood this evening, she wouldn’t have to put anything on.  Relaxing, she went to the vanity and brushed her hair, hearing it crackle with static.  Removing the miniscule dash of makeup she wore took only seconds.  Still a bit downcast but feeling so much better to be free of the celebration downstairs, Naya went to her bed.  She lay on freshly laundered sheets for a few moments, not covering up.  She felt safely cocooned within the sheer curtains of the bed.   I’ll spend tomorrow in the woods.  The whole day.   Autumn was in the air, releasing summer’s humid stranglehold.  Naya hoped the air would be crisp.  She knew the woods around Heriolf’s mansion like the back of her hand, but every day brought new discoveries nonetheless.  It was the one place she felt truly home.  And once out of sight of the mansion and its retinue of human servants, she would shed her clothing and be at one with the natural world, the way she felt she was meant to be.Naya sat up, ready to put the lamp out.  Her hand reached for the curtain to draw it back, and she paused.  Hadn’t there been a slight movement on the other side of the bed?  She slowly looked over her shoulder.The handsome vampire she’d glimpsed in the hall below stood there, silently drawing the curtains back.  She opened her mouth to scream.The next instant his face was only inches from hers, his gaze capturing her, swallowing her in their brown depths.  She had a moment to think she hadn’t made the mistake of looking into a vampire’s eyes in a very long time.His voice was a calming purr, taking all thought from her mind, replacing her fears with a soothing ocean tide of placidity.  “Silence, woman.  Lie down and do not fight me.”Naya did as she was told, sinking onto those clean sheets with him hovering over her.  His fingers gently brushed her hair from her face and throat, and his head tilted to one side.  Then his face burrowed against her neck.  The pain of his bite was far away and unimportant, submerged in the wave of arousal that swept over her as he began to feed.  His body covered hers, and she felt his excitement, the press of unrepentant masculinity against her naked sex.  Her lower body spasmed, sending a gush of warm wetness from her.The terrible yet wondrous need made her heart pound all the faster as he drew and drew on her.  An enormous aching emptiness opened inside her, as if a black hole had burst into existence within her belly.  It yawned great and ravenous, begging to be filled.  For the first time, Naya wanted to know – no, needed to know the strength of a man inside her body.

Tutorial Tuesday - Hired Guns and Editing

Ah, joy.  You’ve finished your novel, and it’s a thing of beauty.  It’s like having a child.  After all, you created it, nurtured it, and brought it to completion.  You’re justifiably proud.
Now it’s time for a second opinion.  Much like sending your little ones off to school for someone else to take a turn at honing your offsprings’ skills, it’s time to hand off a little responsibility for your creation.  You need a new pair of eyes to look at your manuscript and see what works, what doesn’t, and to catch the mistakes you missed.
It’s time to engage the services of a proofreader/editor.  Do not skip this step.  As I mentioned in last week’s tutorial, you’ve now gone edit-blind.  You can no longer see many of the differences between the story in your head and the one on your computer screen.
And your spell/grammar check, as valuable a tool as it is, didn’t catch everything either.  It doesn’t always intuit the correct usage of their, there, and they’re.  It gets confused as to whether you meant its as possessive or it’s as a contraction of ‘it is’. 
Not only that, but what you thought was plain as day in your storyline might not be so clear to a reader.  Every single thing I’ve ever written has had that issue.  My editors, whom I get to look over my work before I send anything off to my publisher, have always come back to me with, “You know, this didn’t ring quite true,” or “This character would never do what he does in Chapter 7,” or “How did you get to this point when there were these issues that weren’t resolved?” 
Sometimes I disagree with them.  I don’t always go along with what my editors say.  But 95 percent of the time I am clued in to a problem I hadn’t seen before, so I give every comment serious consideration.  Even when I think, “How can you say that’s not clear?  I made a point of dealing with that in the last chapter”, I take another look at the point under discussion and strive to make it better.  If one person is having issues with what I wrote, it’s almost guaranteed others will too.
This means having a thick skin.  When you’re so invested in your story, as you no doubt will be, even constructive criticism sounds like an attack on your ability to write.  Swallow it.  Get over yourself.  Smile and thank the kind person who took the time to make your story better.  And make those corrections. 

Choosing an Editor/Proofreader
As to where to find these excellent editors who make sure you don’t send a steaming pile out into the world, you have many options.  You can pay for professional editing.  As with anything else, you will find both the good and the bad offering their services.  Just remember anyone can call themselves an ‘editor’.  If you’re going the paid route, get references from other writers.  Don’t fall for just any ad in the back of a writing magazine.  This is your money, and I don’t want to see you get taken by a person who thinks ‘a lot’ is one word.
Another alternative is hiring a college student who majors in English.  You can probably get this kind of help cheaper than the professional editor.  A caveat for hiring either pro or student:  pay by the page, not by the hour … you don’t want to get charged for time your proofreader spent texting, yapping on the phone, or whatever other interruptions occur.
If free or bartering is your thing, as it is mine, then it’s time to look around your circle of family and friends for help.  Make sure these are people who will give you honest opinions, however.  Anyone who will gloss over what they didn’t get from your content because they don’t want to hurt your feelings is not doing you any favors at all.
My editors are all family and friends.  Yes, I said editors plural.  I have more than one because I finish a book every two to three months, and I don’t like to presume on the goodwill of these people who are kind enough to lend a hand.
 A fellow author is my go-to guy for the Clans of Kalquor series.  As an erotica author with a command of the English language that far exceeds mine, I know I can count on him to give me excellent feedback.  Plus having a male perspective on the uber-masculine Kalquorians is invaluable.  We have an agreement that I will do the same for him once he moves from short stories to novels.   I highly recommend this bartering system.  Finding a writer to trade editorial services with can be a win-win situation for all concerned.
My paranormal erotica is proofed by my mom.  She has a terrific grasp of grammar and makes no bones about when I’ve slipped up with a character or the storyline.  I know I can trust her to keep me from allowing major lapses in storytelling.
I have a third editing team, dear friends of mine.  One is someone with actual proofreading credentials, who examines my non-erotic writings.  His wife, no slouch herself in writing and grammar, also gives me her valuable two cents worth.  I know I won’t get away with anything with this pair.
No matter who you find to put your story through its paces, make it someone who likes the genre you write in.  If you write erotica, you shouldn’t ask your preacher’s wife to look it over, even if she is an English professor.  You need someone who loves the kinds of things you write about, along with their ability to edit.  Otherwise, you won’t get a very objective opinion on how good your novel is.

More Reasons for Outside Editing
All this advice on outside editing/proofreading is especially true if you’re self-publishing your novel, because in that case you’re the last stop before the public gets their hands on your work.  It’s all on you to get this right, so you really need another opinion or two on whether or not this story is ready for the world.
I can hear the question though:  I plan to submit to publishers and not do this all by myself.  Won’t the publisher’s editor catch what’s wrong with my writing?
There are two problems with relying on the publisher’s editorial staff:  First, the publisher has to sign your book to a contract before the copy editor ever sees your work.  And if you send a publisher something chock full of typos, grammar errors, and plot problems, you’ll never get that contract.  You cannot afford mistakes when it comes to submitting to a publisher if you want them to give you a chance.
Secondly, even if your novel does get signed and copyedited, it’s a better than average chance the editing will be below par.  It seems the days of excellence in editing have gone by the wayside even in traditional publishing these days.  I’m a huge fan of the Sookie Stackhouse series, and I’ve seen enough errors in these books to let me know that the person editing these books either needs more coffee or less booze in their system.  In my opinion, it’s absolutely horrendous that a bestselling author’s work put out by a major publisher is not being better proofed.
So despite the fact that my publisher has an editor going over my work, I leave nothing to chance.  There have been things she’s caught that got past me and my proofreaders, and there are things that have slipped by her as well.  No one is infallible, no matter how good they are, so put as many eyes on finding the mistakes as you can. 

Heading Off Trouble
Unfortunately, there will be people who buy and read your books who are not good matches for what you write.  They will take great delight in roasting your baby in scathing reviews.  Any little mistake will only further their cause.  Do yourself a favor and don’t allow poor editing to fuel their bonfire.  Get a second and maybe even a third trusted opinion.  After all, you want your baby to realize its full potential, right?

Monday Man Time