Crymsyn Hart's Blog, page 18

Throwback Thursday: My Guardian Cowboy

It's Thursday, again. I thought today we would take a trip back in time to my first M/M release called My Guardian Cowboy. So if you want a little yeehaw in your step, check out this short story.

Blurb:

Ethan thought his world was perfect until it was shattered. Nursing a broken heart, he meets a mysterious cowboy in a bar. Gabe's sexy lips and broad chest draw Ethan in immediately, but before Ethan can explore his cowboy’s body, he disappears into the night.
Ethan searches for his cowboy under every cowboy hat he sees. Then, by some miracle, Gabe appears back into his life. Drawn to him like no other, Ethan will do anything to hold onto Gabe lest he vanishes again.


Sugar & Spice              Amazon               Barnes & Noble 



Excerpt:

Ethan sat at the bar, staring at the defoaming head of his beer. The dark beverage used to elicit so many feelings in him. Now it was a means to an end. He had been sitting there for hours, tuning out the music in the background. Patrons kept popping quarters into the jukebox. Poppy, modern day rock, blared over the speakers followed by twangy country songs that grated his nerves with each note. Each time the quarter slid into the slot he cringed. No matter how much he tried to block out the tunes, his mind played one thing over and over again. A singular thought taunted him.

What the fuck had happened?

Earlier that night, he had arrived home late from work. He had hoped to find Simon sitting on the couch waiting for him, the way he normally was if he was late. Loosening his tie, he had slipped into his bedroom to get ready for a shower. But what Ethan had walked into stopped his heart.

No, he couldn’t see the image again. It brought too much pain to his already addled brain. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to clear the image from his mind. Where it had all gone wrong? Why hadn’t he seen the signs? Was it him? Life had been going to crap until he met Simon. His lover had peeled him away from suicide. The few precious moments of happiness he had in his life had just been shattered. Everything was now back to square one. What would happen tomorrow? What was going to happen five years from now? Ten years from now? Nothing else mattered. His heart was broken. His soul was shattered.

Ethan gripped the handle of the beer mug tighter, contemplating drinking the whole thing down in a couple of swallows. The heady smell enticed him. He could already taste the malty liquor on his tongue. It’d be so easy to imbibe the whole drink and then another. And then one after the other until the familiar headache started, the double vision, and then the blackout. He’d then fall into oblivion and wake up on someone’s couch. He’d lost so many nights to imbibing too much. Until Simon. His lover had awakened him from the stupor he’d been in. Ethan had never loved anyone so much to really want something. That was when he put down the booze and got into a program. The last time he’d been in a bar was nine months ago. It would be so easy to throw it all away. Why not drown his sorrows once more, throw caution to the wind, and wake up in some flea bitten motel with a gigolo, or someone he’d meet at the bar after hours of drinking?

He lifted the beer. The glass was no longer frosted. The coaster it had sat on was wet and the grains of salt he’d sprinkled on it glistened from the sweat on the glass. The scent enticed him so much. One sip. Simon would say it was time to call his sponsor or hit a meeting. He didn’t want to fuck up everything he’d worked for over the past nine months. Fuck it. He’s the one who ruined everything. He’s the one who drove me to this.

“You sure you want to do that, cowboy?”

Ethan glanced to his left at the man leaning on the bar. Typical cowboy, chewing on a toothpick. Hat pulled down over his face, showing only the square jaw with the slight, stubble on his chin. A long brown duster brushed the peanut strewn floor. The shells crunched under his weight when he shifted his feet. A small smile curled the corner of his mouth.

“Why is that?” Ethan asked the cowboy.

The other man leaned over the bar and drew a beer out of the ice-filled bin below. The bartender rushed over. The cowboy laid down a five on the mahogany bar. He twisted the top on the bottle, gripped the neck, and then knocked back a few swallows. Ethan eyed him enviously. The patron dragged his hand across his mouth and set the bottle down.

“Because you look like a starving horse ready to gorge himself on three bales of hay. I take it you’re a man who hasn’t had a drink in a while. You sure you want to go down that road again?”

“Why not? My world’s turned to shit. Something has to drown my sorrows. Care to join me? I’ll buy the next round.”

He lifted his hat and stared Ethan directly in the eye. At that moment, something in Ethan melted. Deep green eyes peered into his soul. His hand shook. He set the glass down and tried to catch his breath. The feeling he knew this man overwhelmed him. The man smiled, flashing him a mouthful of even white teeth. Almost too perfect. The need to pick up his mug and take a long swig of beer enveloped him, but he fought it off. Hurt overtook him. A lump of emotion formed in his throat. The cowboy was too intriguing and what he said made sense. Ethan switched his gaze back to the beer.

“You never answered my question from before—you sure you want to do that?”

Ethan studied the half of his reflection that showed in the mirror. Disheveled brown hair adorned his head. Blue eyes with dark circles underneath them stared back at him. Stubble dotted his cheeks. The collar was open on his red shirt. His black tie was shoved into the pocket of his pants, dangling from the barstool. Ethan glanced back at the cowboy. Those amazing green eyes captured him. “So what’s your question?”

“You look like someone who could use a good cup of coffee instead of a stiff drink. Why don’t we get out of here? Then we can figure out where to go from there.”

Ethan chuckled and shook his head. He’d heard that line before. He’d used it on Simon and other men in the past to bed them. “I’d rather have the beer than the coffee. Thanks for the offer though.”

“But you do need someone to talk to.”

“And you’re that person for me?” Ethan asked.

The other man took off his hat and set it on the bar. He ran a hand through his chestnut hair. “I can lend an ear. I’ve always been good at listening. At least that’s what my mother always said.”

He smirked. “Well it sounds like you’re just a standup kinda guy. Willing to help anybody.”

The cowboy’s eyes narrowed. “Not anybody. Just those that need a hand and I sensed that you need one right now. Why don’t you just call me your guardian angel?”

Ethan couldn’t take anymore of the goody-two-shoes act from the other man.“Guardian angel, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think so.”

He slapped his money down on the bar, pushed his mug away, and decided it was better to have that cup of coffee. Drinking his troubles away wasn’t the best thing in the world. Ethan grabbed his jacket from the back of the stool and slung it on. It was no use straightening it out because it was rumpled from him sitting on it. The cowboy grabbed his arm.

“Hey, man, leave me alone,” Ethan growled. He tried to pull away, but the other man’s grip was too tight.

The hard expression on the cowboy’s face melted. “I’m not here to pick you up. I’m here offering assistance. It seems like you’ve had a pretty bad day and you need someone to talk to. Why not take me up on my offer? I’ll buy. I won’t say anything. I’ll just listen.”

Ethan saw the sincere expression. A deep attraction wound around him and flushed his skin. Something about the man seemed so familiar, like he’d known him before. He gazed around the bar. No one else paid them any mind. They were in a world of their own. The music on the jukebox, another twangy song, grated on his nerves. A couple leaned over the music maker, perusing the song selection. He could already here the cha-chink of the quarters sliding down the jukebox’s slot setting up the next four songs. The aroma of stale cigarettes lingered in the air. The peanut shells cracked under his feet. It was just a matter of time. If he stayed in the bar, he would eventually pick up that drink. Ethan glanced over the people playing pool, laughing and joking, to the couple nestled in the corner sipping two glasses of wine. Other patrons were knocking back shots of tequila. A small group of frat boys were partying in another corner. Yeah. It was best that he stayed sober even though his heart was shredded and his soul was stomped on. He sighed and shook his head. If he went into work with another hangover, after his last warning, he’d be fired on the spot.

The cowboy released his arm. Ethan studied him. He saw the muddy boots and the dirt clinging to the bottom of his duster. It seemed he’d had a hard road. He was grimy and looked like he needed a shower, shave and a place to stay. It appeared he was in need of more comfort than Ethan did.

“Okay. I’ll take that cup of coffee. But it’s only coffee.”

The cowboy smiled. The corners of his eyes crunched up and a small dimple appeared in his left cheek. It reminded Ethan of a freckle it was so dark. Underneath all the muck, he appeared handsome. Anyone would have him. And yet no one was coming up to him. He wondered why that was. Maybe it was as the cowboy said—he was his guardian angel. Whatever the reason, Ethan wanted to reach out and touch his flesh, but he resisted the urge.

“Good choice. Know any good coffee shops around here?”

Ethan nodded. “Yeah. There’s one right around the corner. I guess it works out that way. They set up shop around a bar because they know when the bars close and the drunks are going to need someplace to go sober up.”

“Yeah. That sounds about right.”

The cowboy held the door for Ethan, who strolled out into the night. When the cool breeze hit him, it lifted his soul. He glanced at stars and instead of the dim lights he’d seen earlier, they were bright shining jewels that sparked a feeling of hope deep inside of him. 

Don't Put All Your Eggs In One Oven

You're thinking what in the world do ovens and eggs have to do with writing?

I know you are.

Well I'll tell you my tale of ovens, eggs, and writing.

When we bought our house almost eight years ago now, the owners of the house were real sticklers and we had to fight tooth and nail to get certain things done before we would move in. One of them was fixing the digital control panel on the gas stove which runs of the whole thing. So instead of getting a new stove, which would have been cheaper than repairing and installing the new panel, nope they repaired the panel. Great so we have a working stove.

Only now, the stove has a mind of it's own. I've known for a while the monster is getting ready to start defying me. Last summer the oven began behaving badly. Then two of the burners aren't burning up to snuff. But let's face it, getting a stove is not in the budget at the moment. So last night, I went to cook pork chops and after an hour the oven had only warmed up 80 degrees and the scent of gas permeated the kitchen.

Yeah...not a good sign.

So I said screw it and went out with the husband and bought a counter top convection oven. It's all bright, shiny and new, beckoning me to cook the chicken pie I have planned for dinner. So the husband asked what are we going to do about boiling water. Well the burners still work on the stove, but if not...hot plate here I come.

So what does this have to do with publishing?

Well here's the thing. About the same time we moved into the house, I landed my first publishing contract with a now defunct house called Stardust Publishing. They were great and hey when I got the acceptance letter I was over the moon since my dream had been realized.  Who wouldn't be? At that point I had seven books that I could put out. At first I wanted to stay there and not worry about what to do, but things started to decline, like my stove, so I branched out.

I learned over time and from other authors, not to put all my eggs into one basket or oven cause really who wants overcooked eggs. I certainly don't, I mean I can't eat them anyway since I'm allergic, but I digress.

After writing professionally now for 8 years, I have been with 16 publishers. Some I clicked with and many others I didn't. Some looked great on the outside but when I got in, yeah we split ways pretty quickly. Others well...they linger and I don't send them anything else. I have waited out for new publishers to open up their doors and gotten rejected multiple times, but heck I'm still going to try. It's like the oven I'm going to keep trying to spark with certain ones until I finally burn out.

I'm happy with the few that I have now and write for because I've found a fit. With the publishing industry changing all the time these days from small presses popping up and self-publishing so easy these days, authors have to decide what they want to do. There is no easy way around it. Writing is a hard business. I'm a veteran as many others are. I've fought battles and lost wars.

But no matter what, I'm always trying. Sure I am ready to get a new stove, but I can still use part of it. Meaning I can still go to the places I am comfortable with, but I know to always try something new and see how it works out. Cause sometimes the ship is sinking and you gotta bail.

So I'll let you know how the chicken pie comes out in the new convection oven.

And I'll let everyone know how the new publishers are because I'm really looking forward to the changes that are coming.

In My World...

Bigfoot has shot off the planet into space and is getting into multi-partner relationship with an alien Yeti named Hermon and two hip alien female shifters. There are grim reapers who get along with crazy gods who show up naked in witch's beds.. The Angel of Death is multi-dimensional who has a tendency to appear in different realities because, let's face it, he's death and an angel so he can pretty much do what he wants. I have dragons who fall in love with phoenix. I have lions falling for wolves and getting into fur fights with ravens. Vampires are part demon and demonic jesters who want to take over the world.

 And this is all just in one day mind you. Think of the parties that go on in my head when I'm not paying attention. Sometimes I wonder where it all comes from, but if I start to question too much my muses kidnap me, lock me away in some dark room, and threaten to vacate the premises. So I have learned to go with the flow of writing.

Flowing sometimes comes easily and other times I run into roadblocks, writer's block, that has a strange way of coming on. Normally, I want to start cleaning everything in my house and have the urge. So I start doing something else. I used to pull out the crafts, but with the carpal tunnel being such a pain I stopped doing a lot of that. Instead, I go out and play with the dogs. And yet while I'm playing with them, my muses are tapping on the block with tiny hammers trying to break through the wall. Once they get a hole, then damn overflows and that's all I want to do.

So I start writing again and the cycle goes on where the Yeti is stomping around and new character has emerged in the form of a mummified hand named Omar that just wants some action. And ideas start percolating.

If you haven't guessed, I have a warped sense of humor when it comes to my characters. Some people don't get that, but ehh that's okay. Everyone has their own opinion on things. I've been doing this for a long while now. Some people call me an over achiever for the goals I set. I tell them I just can't write fast enough to get all the ideas dumped out of my mind. I'm sure that's the way with all authors. There is just too much for the muses to lay around with. They want more and more attention and sometimes the strangest things give me ideas.

The world outside of my imagination is rather boring. I work for an insurance company full time, have three dogs who take up a lot of time, a husband of ten years, and friends of course and other hobbies. That's rather the boring stuff. Who wants to talk abuot sitting in front of a computer for hours on end and typing. People want to hear about the exciting stuff. Well, all that takes place within the world inside my head.

It's a great place to live. I only with I could take people there on tours. I'd make a killing. The rides are fun, a little dark, but you might come out alive.

Guest Post: Writing Isn’t a Fantasy – By Jackie Gamber

Hello everyone, let's please welcome Jackie Gamber to the blog today. Her new book Reclamation is out so go check it out!



I often tell people (when they ask) that I was writing long before I knew I was a “writer”. Writing was what I did when I was lonely, frustrated, excited, or bored. Or I would read. But I was playing with words, and sentence structure, and metaphors and similes the way children swing, and climb jungle gyms; because it’s fun! Not because they’re trying to develop large muscle strength.

But at the end of a playground day, that’s what a child has done. Gotten stronger.

As I’ve gotten older and more focused on writing as a career choice, I have found myself leaving behind the practice days for more “serious, real” word counts that add up to a project. I might wistfully regard the playground as the glory days, but then turn my attention to the proper business of growing a story.

I’m not sure that’s the right approach.

My daughter and I had a discussion recently about professional athletes, and we wondered whether any of them played b-ball, or touch football, or kicked around a neighborhood soccer ball anymore. Like they did when they were a kid, without the pressure of winning—just playing their heart out for the glory of the game. A part of me hopes they still do.

It’s the part of me that writes for the joy of it. For the sheer expression, whether illuminating, or dark, or just plain drivel. For the motion of the pen across paper (I love to hand write, still); for the smell of ink or graphite; for the clack of a keyboard that is a sound as comforting to me as the scent of baking bread.

Few activities elicit the response I get when I tell people I write (if they ask). During get-to-know-you phases of chit-chat, I might mention I like to sing. Often people will smile and say, “Me too!” or, “I can’t carry a tune in a bucket”, or some other conversational connection. Or I can say I like movies, or dancing, or libraries, or art museums, or that I knit, or want to learn water colors.

But mention writing? Universally, I’m asked, “Oh? Are you published? Anything I’ve heard of?”

Don’t get me wrong. I want to be as successful a published author as I can be. But there are plenty of reasons for a writer to indulge her talents and drive than the Holy Grail of Being Published.

There is value in the exercise of expression. It can be found on the playground.





Book Synopsis Reclamation: The exciting conclusion of the Leland Dragon Series!

Leland Province remains in danger. The sinister Fordon Blackclaw has returned from the shadows to strike at the heart of neighboring Esra, killing its Venur and making clear his intentions to retake what was once his: Mount Gore, seat of the Leland Dragon Council.
All around, the land grows weaker and weaker. Leland, once thought saved by Kallon Redheart, is without purpose, and within its borders, Murk Forest, a place of mystery and danger, has driven its inhabitants to seek aid. Esra is in flames, and the Rage Desert grows. Dragon and human alike struggle to find their way, and the wizard Orman can sense that there may be more at stake than the affairs of dragons.
Hope remains, yet it is not without obstacles. In Esra, Sela, the daughter of Kallon and Riza, found the well, a source of life, and made herself whole again. But her homecoming is not what she had imagined.

Old wounds buried deep must reopen if life is to continue. Dragons, humans, wizards, and shape shifters are all at risk as the peace between dragon and human has finally been broken.
War is here.

The stakes?
Perhaps the whole world.

About the Author:

Jackie Gamber is the award-winning author of many short stories, screenplays, and novels, including “Redheart”, “Sela”, and “Reclamation”, Books one through three of the Leland Dragon Series. For more information about Jackie and her mosaic mind, visit http://www.jackiegamber.com
And meet Jackie elsewhere on the world wide web at:
https://www.facebook.com/AllotropeMedia
http://www.amazon.com/author/JackieGamber
http://www.twitter.com/JackieGamber
http://www.facebook.com/jackiegamber
Twitter: @jackiegamber




Tour Schedule and Activities
2/24                A Book Vacation                                            Tour Wide Contest
2/24                Azure Dwarf                                                    Promo/Spotlight
2/24                Come Selahway With Me                              Guest Post
2/24                Jellowquake Productions 2/25                Creating Estelan                                             Promo/Spotlight
2/25                Workaday Reads                                            Review
2/25                Alexx Momcat’s Gateway Book Blog                       Promo Spotlight
2/25                Jorie Loves a Story                                         Character Post
2/25                I Smell Sheep                                                 Character Post
2/26                Kentucky Geek Girl                                         Guest Post  2/26                Deal Sharing Aunt                                          Review
2/26                Book in the Bag                                              Interview
2/27                Sheila Deeth                                                   Character Interview
2/27                John F. Allen Writer                                       Promo/Spotlight
2/28                Jorie Love a Story                                           Review
2/28                Azure Dwarf                                                    Review
2/28                Vampires, Witches, and Me, Oh My                         Guest Post
2/28                MichaelSciFan                                                             Interview
3/1      Elizabeth Delana Rosa ~Book Lover & Creator of Worlds~   Post on Art of Reclamation
3/1                  Coffintree Hill                                                            Guest Post
3/2                  Jorie Loves a Story                                         Author Interview/Reader Questions
3/2                  Bee’s Knees Reviews                                       Review
3/2                  Jess Resides Here                                            Guest Post
3/2                  Book and Movie Dimension Blog                 Review

  

Guest Post: Eric Garrison- Lizzie - I was in Love With a Ghoul

Hello Everyone,

Please welcome Eric Garrison of Seventh Star Press to my blog today. Or is it someone else blogging for him...?

Hello all you lovely bloggy people! Eric has asked me to write you a blog. Bloggity blog, it's fun to say. Say it with me. "Blog!" So, I thought to myself, what should I write about? Let's see, what kind of stuff do you like over at "Vampires, Witches, and me... oh my!"? Just look at all those bare-chested paranormal men. Raar. I decided what you want to know about is the dirt. The deets. The juicy stuff. You know, lurve!
 So I'll just dive right in. My boyfriend Brett was a ghoul. What that means takes some telling! Brett isn't quite like those beefy vamps and rugged lycan boys. He's a dreamy nerdy guy. Yeah, everyone has a type, and mine has sandy hair and chases ghosts with techy gadgets. He's got a nice bottom, too, and he'll blush a few adorable shades of pink if he sees this. Ha ha! He rocks a pair of owlish glasses, and when he peers over the top of them at me, I just melt. What can I say, I just love a guy with brains.
 And you might expect me to make a "braaaains" joke at this point, since I brought up his ghoul nature. Well, yes, his body temperature did sink toward room temperature. But that's really the most ghouls and zombies have in common. He's alive, not undead. He doesn't crave the flesh (or brains) of the living, but instead wanted dead meat... okay so this is a little gross, but ghouls like it a bit past the expiry date, if you get what I mean.
 Without getting all technical, what happened to Brett is that he was possessed for a short while, and when I drove out the demon, it left a bit of a spiritual hole that let his soul leak out bit by bit. More of him resided in the shadow world, between our world and the afterlife. And this says a bit too much about me, but when I found out that Brett was part ghost? That was a bit of a turn on that I didn't expect. We spend our free time hunting ghosts to understand them better, you know, so I guess the idea of my man floating through walls, seeing further into the other world than we ever had? It's exciting!
 SPOILER ALERT! Don't read the next paragraph if you don't want to know spoilery spoilers! If you peek, it's all on you! Last warning!
So, Brett got better. I won't say how, but it was something he had to work out on his own. I've done my magical best to keep this from ever happening again. I sort of miss having a ghost boyfriend, but I've seen what happens when the "ghoul syndrome" goes too far... eventually there's no coming back, and I couldn't bear losing him that way.  So, he's back to warm and cuddly body temperature, which is a relief, because chilly kisses aren't as much fun as they make it look on Buffy! And I'm glad his tastes in food have gone back to pizza and fries, rather than last week's manager's special at the grocery store butcher.
We have our ups and downs, and it was a hard time, but I stuck by my guy and we saw it through. Ghoul or no, ghost or no, he's mine, and I'm keeping him!

Book Synopsis Sinking Down: Poor Little Ghoul Paranormal investigators Brett and Liz find themselves back in over their heads when a forest hunt for a roadkill-eating creature offers up a little surprise. Back home with their ghoulish house guest, it becomes clear there’s more to this investigation than either of them thought. Worse than that, Brett's own fate is linked to the little ghoul's. So it's back out on the road, with plenty of time for pit stops with a greedy ex, a convention of ghost hunters, partying with fake vampires, and even drinking and fighting alongside good ole Uncle Gonzo. But as the investigation goes deeper, and unseen connections come to light, Brett finds there’s much more at stake than getting through a rough patch with Liz.  A rescue mission. A race for a cure. New friends and old adversaries. Unbreakable bonds and supernatural danger. It’s going to be a wild ride. Can the friends save the nearly undead tween? Can she and Brett stop themselves from ...Sinking Down? Sinking Down is the 2nd Book in the Road Ghosts Trilogy!About the Author: Eric Garrison is active in the writing community in Indianapolis, Indiana. He lives in the Circle City with his wife, step-daughter and four cats. He also enjoys gaming and homebrewing beer.Seventh Star Press published the first of his Road Ghosts trilogy, Four 'til Late, in July of 2013. Sinking Down was released in December of 2013, with the final title to appear in 2014.
Eric's novel, Reality Check, is a science fiction adventure released by Hydra Publications. This book reached #1 in Science Fiction on Amazon's Kindle store during a promotion in July 2013.Eric's short story, "Drag Show" appeared in the Fall 2011 edition of Strange, Weird and Wonderful Magazine and Volume 2 of that magazine's anthology series.

His flash piece, "Dark Reflection", appeared in the Indiana Horror 2011 anthology. He's competed twice in the Iron Writer Challenge with two 500-word flash pieces, "Killer Cure" and "Moby Me".

Author Links:

Website: http://sillyhatbooks.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EricGarrisonAuthor
Twitter: @erichris
Tour Schedule and Activities

2/24    Beauty in Ruins                                                           Guest Post
2/24    Laurie’s Thoughts and Paranormal Reviews                        Promo/Spotlight
2/24    Deal Sharing Aunt                                                      Tour Wide Contest
2/24    Lost Inside the Covers                                                Review
2/24    John F. Allen Writer                                                   Promo Spotlight
2/24    Beagle Book Space                                                    Promo/Spotlight
2/24    Seers, Seraphs, and More                                          Promo/Spotlight
2/25    Vampires, Witches, and Me, Oh My!                        Character Post
2/26    Bee’s Knees Reviews                                                  Guest Post
2/27    Sapphyria’s Book Reviews                                         Promo/Spotlight
2/27    fuonlyknew ~ Laura's Ramblins and Reviews         Review
2/27    I Smell Sheep                                                             Guest Post
2/27    Jess Resides Here                                                        Character Interview
2/28    A Book Vacation                                                         Guest Post
2/28    Armand Rosamilia, Author                                        Guest Post
3/1      Sheila Deeth                                                               The Art of Sinking Down
3/2      Come Selahway With Me                                         Guest Post

Cover Reveal: Lube It Up

Hi All,

Are you excited? I know I am... My first release with Secret Cravings Publishing is scheduled for April and I already have an awesome cover.

This is for Lube It Up, my first Contemporary Romance. No ghosts, witches, vampires involved, but I was very tempted.  Let me know what you think.

Blurb:


Lara Kinman has returned home for her father’s funeral. It’s been almost a decade since she’s been home and doesn’t expect a happy homecoming with her brother. However, when she returns, Lara runs in her ex-boyfriend Hale Dobbs. He isn’t anything like she remembered. The awkward boy has been replaced by a gorgeous man.

Hale tries to distract Lara from her grief by inviting her out for dinner. She agrees because there’s no need to worry because she’s not going to be in town long enough for anything to blossom between them. Little does she know that her family history has finally caught up with her. Can Hale help grease her wheels to reveal her true feelings for him? Or will Lara have to take over the family business and cut him completely out of her life?

Throwback Thursday: Masquerade- Vampires and Angels of Death

Don't let the cover fool you.

This is a hardcore romance mixed in with horror as is the whole Soul Reaper Series. If you are interested in reading my upcoming Deathly Encounters Series. Masquerade is where my Angel of Death was born. This series and the characters in it are some of my favorites.


Brenna has been in the shadows for years. Veronica has been trying to escape her ex forever. Each is living lives they never assumed would be theirs. Each is hiding behind a mask they never desired to wear.

True love has finally come to Brenna in the guise of Cain. Before she can fully realize her affections, her life is shattered by something that steps out of the darkness. This intrusion threatens her growing relationship.

Veronica stumbles into Brenna and her world is thrown upside down. Drawn to a woman she doesn’t know. She sees Brenna’s growing affection for Cain as a hindrance. She tries to warn Brenna that not all is what it seems. However, she doesn’t want to listen and now danger is on their doorstep. Veronica’s ex, Devon, has caught up with her.

Will Brenna and Veronica survive their ordeal? Will Devon come for them both? Or will all masks finally come off?


Purple Sword                                   Amazon                                  Barnes & Noble

Excerpt:

My name is Brenna.

The heaviness of the atmosphere rolled around my tongue, lingering in my nose like a fine vintage of wine. It was a hot, humid day. Clothes stuck to every inch of skin, and a sane person hungered for a shower after the slightest exertion. Traces of spices and sweat clung to the fragrance of the day as exotic food was prepared on every corner. Even a hint of magic wafted on the day’s aroma. Spells had been cast to bar intruders and ignite passionate love affairs.

As these scents carried me into consciousness, a slight breeze blew through the Quarter, pulling the bouquets of the day with it. My nostrils flared at the odor on the back of the wind: the wet, dark, musty smell of death and an oncoming storm. Death was part of the culture here, always lingering like the ghosts in the city. Rain came often, but never lasted more than an hour or so, making this place more like a tropical paradise than a bustling city. Even the downpours couldn’t keep the sightseers from exploring the small shops, as well as admiring the balconied apartments in the Quarter. Many were small oases, housing lush plants, which allowed the inhabitants to escape from the cameras and voyeurs. I inhabited one of these sought-after lodgings, but kept the windows shuttered so the sun couldn’t creep in and disrupt my slumber.

I rose, yawning as the heaviness of sleep had not yet left me. Darkness caressed my naked form while the whirling fan cooled my bare skin. Stretching, I urged my body to rise and face the night. I opened the shutters to see the sun painting hues of purple and pink in the hazy air, signaling the fast approaching blue-greens of twilight. I smiled. This was the scene that had greeted me for years. I flicked on the light. I shielded my eyes from the sudden illumination until my pupils adjusted.

I admired my body in the bureau mirror. The overhead lamp gave my milky skin a jaundiced tint that contrasted against the pink of my nipples. My appearance attracted both sexes; it was something in the pheromones. The sex of my partners didn’t matter. I only wanted the ones who could fulfill my desire.

The jasmine-touched breeze danced through my apartment as the coolness of full night blossomed like a moonflower inside my chest. I stretched, now entirely awake as the sluggishness of the day fell away like a misty shroud. The moon’s silvery light already warmed my skin. Its blaze had replaced the sun in my memories and the power of it ignited my heart, night after glorious night.
Staring at my body a moment longer, I realized tonight was not the night for me to turn into Narcissus and be captured by my own beauty. I had eons for that. My gums ached, and hollowness filled my insides. Tonight I’d dress to kill, so to speak. I donned a black velvet dress, black thigh-high stockings, and black Doc Martens.

My gaze fell on the things I would need to complete my disguise. A contact case and scattered makeup: everything I needed to fit in better. From the lot, my tarot cards called to me. I smiled, wondering what Fate had in store for me tonight. Mentally, I checked my schedule and knew I had no clients to read. No one to tell a husband was cheating, or a sickness was devouring them, or a fortune would be lost in the stock market.

I smirked at the thought of how easily I peered into the minds of my clients, divining their futures and reading their emotions. After one session, they always came back. I had a good reputation, unlike the phony psychics who lined Jackson Square. Hotel managers and local occult shops referred tourists to me. I loved unearthing secrets from my unsuspecting clients.

I studied the cobalt backs, admiring the golden stars. I had owned them for years. My right hand passed over the line of cards, automatically settling on one in the middle and then another at the end. Energy sparked between the cards and my palm. I pulled those two cards to see how the evening would progress and to give me a glimpse into the more distant future. The first card I flipped was the Lovers. It signified I would meet someone to spend eternity within the next couple of nights.

Yeah, right! I giggled, wondering who my next conquest would be.

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State of the Crymsyn- February Edition

I try.

I really do try to blog about my life, but honestly I think it's boring. Maybe my readers don't, but I suck at blogging. It's one of my many faults. But I don't have much interesting happening to me. I mean no one wants to hear me go on and on about Commercial Property and General Liability Insurance as that is my day job.

Or bore you about the dogs which now number three, my 9 year old Lab Morrigaine, my 6 year old Cadence Lab/Border Collie mix, and my 9 month old English Pointer/mix-we think with whippet- Briar. Between the three of them I am smothered in dog hair and toys. I sit on the couch and all three vie for a spot on me. Briar poor thing was very skittish when we got her from the Humane Society of Charlotte. She's gotten much better but still hates the train, hates any loud truck that goes by the house, and sometimes shies away from me and my husband.  We have no idea what happened to her when we got her. She was four months old so we've had her for 5 1/2 months now. Needless to say, I got her for a companion for Cadence who has tons of energy. Morrigaine has arthritis so she's not into running around much. Sucks to see her get older, but what can you do? So for the trade off of the new dog, my husband got satellite TV so we've come out of the dark ages in that respect. Hehee...now he is glued to the tube watching anything he can on sprint cars. But we all have our poison.

Mine just happens to be writing and hanging out with my fellow writers on our Thursday night shenanigans at Starbucks.
So besides the day job, my dogs, my family which I don't really talk about much, my friends, there's always the psychic side of me which I don't get into. Those days have passed regarding publicly doing readings. I read some, but lately I've just been swamped from writing which I'm not complaining, but it takes tons of time as any author will tell you.

I haven't seen many movies at the theater. I did catch an interesting vampire flick called Byzantium which was entertaining and gave a different spin on the vampire genre. I'm a sucker for vampires of any kind. Another one I've seen is called Kiss of the Damned. It was very artsy and while it was good, the first twenty minutes of it were my favorite. 

Reading wise, well everything I've been reading lately is in for research for a new horror series I have been developing .

I'm proud to announce that this series called Deathly Encounters will be out with Seventh Star Press.
The series is about a woman who finds herself embroiled in the world of grim reapers and what happens to her along the way.  So if you love grim reapers and want to see what happens when one of them turns the world upside down because of a mistake they did ages ago, then you have to check it out. There will be much more to come on this. At the moment, I have the first three books done in the series.

Along with that, I've also been working on two spin off series that are within the grim reaper world, but deal with the other characters in the world. So I've been writing my fingers off.

I have also been signed with Secret Cravings Publishing for my first contemporary novel called Lube It Up coming out later this year. Now writing that was a challenge. I definitely prefer writing paranormal anything better than just straight fiction. I guess that's because I've been used to that most of my life.

So recapping what I have completed and working on so far:

Deathly Encounters Series - Horror
 Death's Dance
 Death's Revival
 Death's Demise- needs to be edited.
 Death's Descent-plotted out

Undertaker Tales- Horror
 A Deathly Undertaking- needs to be edited
 Follow the Ink- started

Hunter Series:-Horror
 Book One-Started

Lube It Up- Contemporary Romance

Untitled Fairy Tale- completed needs to be edited.

Started:
Come and Yeti- Hairy & Hung sequel-MMF-Multiple Partners-Yes there is Bigfoot on Yeti sex as they are the males.
Tales of the Grigori Book 3-MFM
Fur World book 3-MFM

Plotted out:
Reindeer Games- MM(f) not sure on this one yet.


So as you can see I have a lot going on, and my muses are constantly coming up with other things for me to do so I have to put it off as much as I can.

Good new though is that my Gods trilogy will be re-released this year with Purple Sword Publications. I love these books they are pure fun and are so not meant to be taken seriously. I made sure that everything bad that could happen to the heroine would.

That about does it with what I've been up to besides planning the Cons that I'll be attending this year. ConCarolinas May 30-June 1st. Imaginarium in Louisville, KY in Sept with the husband going with me which is a big deal.

Don't forget to check out my latest works that are out now:

Vampire in the Basement
Shifter seduction Boxed Set -  only    $.99                            
Craving Penelope

And if you missed it on Time for Love with Christina Cole here is my recipe for Italian Mac N' Cheese that I shared for a little bit of winter comfort food.


Italian Mac N’ Cheese

1 pound of rotini (my husband likes ziti, but any pasta will do)

1 cup of chicken stock

1 cup of heavy cream

1 can of petite diced tomatoes

1 pound of Italian sausage (I use the links cut up, but ground Italian sausage works too)

1 ½ cups of shredded sharp cheddar cheese

1 ½ cups of shredded Parmesan cheese

1 cup of mozzarella cheese

½ cup of bread crumbs

Salt

Pepper

Oregano

1.  Preheat oven to 350 Degrees

2.  Boil 4 quarts of water and cook pasta according to the package directions.

3.  Set pasta aside and drain

4.  Cook and brown Italian sausage.

5.  Pour 1 cup of chicken broth into pot

6.  Pour 1 cup of cream into chicken broth until it bubbles

7.  Add ¾ cup of cheddar and ¾ of a cup of Parmesan, and ½ cup of mozzarella into the cream/broth mixture. Stir until cheese is melted.

8.  Add the pasta, tomatoes, and Italian sausage together and ½ cup of mozzarella cheese

9.  Pour in melted cheese and mix together.

10. Add in salt, pepper, and oregano to taste

11. Pour mixture into 9 x 13 casserole dish

12. Top with reaming cheese and breadcrumbs

13. Bake for 30 minutes

Cover Reveal...

 Hello everyone,

I am happy to show off my new covers for my two of my comedic Gods trilogy. These books will soon be re-leased with Purple Sword Publications.

I have an awesome cover artist who has captured the whimsical nature of the books. I can't be more happy.

Aren't they awesome?

And yes, that really is a flying frog. Every witch has to have a familiar.

Kalliope has it in for her when she wakes up and finds a named man in her bed only to discover that he is a god. Dealing with different deities, serpent haired demons, flying frogs, and trying to live a normal life, she goes on a hair raising adventure this this trilogy. 

New Release: Vampire In the Basement

Out now from Purple Sword Publications 

Blurb:

Not all angels are good.

Tris is one sexy Fallen angel who happens to hunt vampires. Most believe his kind is evil, but he’s actually one of the good guys who happened to be exiled from Heaven. Really, who would want to sit on a puffy cloud all day and watch humans when he can be involved in their lives?

Meanwhile, Daniella has been left to cower in the approaching dawn, praying the hunters won’t discover her. However, the hunters do find her, but spare her life. Her master will stop at nothing to get her back. Tris and Lori have been assigned to protect her. All Tris wants to know is why is she, a vampire, so special he has to keep her safe?

Alone with her, Tris wrestles with his growing feelings, but before he can proclaim them Daniella is spirited away. There is a traitor among the Fallen. Tris must uncover who this is and get Daniella back even if it means laying down his life. What’s an angel to do?

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EXCERPT:

“This is where you’ll stay. The door will be locked, so don’t try to escape. If you need anything, bang on the door. Someone will hear you.”

Tris pushed past her, but she clutched his arm. “You can’t leave me down here all by myself.”

He thought that he heard a bit of distress in her voice, but he had to be imagining it. “Why? Afraid of the dark?”

A scowl painted her lips. She tossed her bouncy curls over her shoulder and stared at him. Daniella stuck her hand on her hip. “No. I’m not afraid of the dark. But you’re...going to leave me down here all alone? Aren’t you concerned that Balthus will come in here and try to spirit me away?”

Tris chuckled. “We don’t have to worry about that here. The property is protected against any demon spawn that might try to come.”

“Why do you abhor me so much?” Daniella asked.

“It’s not you I hate. It’s what you are.” Tris went back up into the kitchen and locked the door behind him. He waited to hear her coming up the stairs and was surprised that his charge did not start banging on the door to be let out. At least she appears to be behaving. What was it that Hemeil saw in her that he was not going to tell me about? Good time to go ask him.

Tris went to the second floor to inquire with his brother angel and knocked on the door that swung open. “Hey, Hem, you in here?”

There was no answer, so he stuck his head in and saw the room was empty. His clothes lay in a heap and were overflowing from the hamper. The bed was messy and the contents of the desk where he had his television was scattered with coins, bills, and bits of paper he must have pulled out of his pockets. A piece of red paper caught his attention. Tris stepped inside, grabbed the paper, and smoothed it out. It was an invitation to some kind of a club. When he saw the address, a cold chill went through him.

“Tris, anything the matter?” Hemeil asked.

Tris shoved the pamphlet into his pocket and turned around, forcing a smile. “No, nothing. I wanted to see what you meant by what you said downstairs with...our guest,” he forced himself to say.

Hemeil nodded. “You don’t have anything to worry about from her. She’s special. I can see it in her eyes. I’m surprised you can’t.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

The other angel slapped him on the back hard enough that it nearly knocked him over. “You’ll see. Try being nice to her.”

“How could I be nice to that creature?” Tris could not help the quiver of disgust that crawled up his
spine.

“Because you judge her by your past; that doesn’t mean she’s the same as the one who lured you to her.”

The memory of the vampire’s face flashed in his mind. Long red curls that framed a round face with innocent eyes. Caillech was the one who had caught his eye, and everything about her had seduced him. Seduced him to the point... He shook his head. It was the past, and he had learned his lesson. He was not going to make the same mistake twice, no matter how much of a beautiful façade the monster put on. She might charm the others, but he had learned his lesson once already, and that was enough.

“They’re all the same. It doesn’t matter if you say she’s different. She’s just like the rest of them.” He walked out of the room and went back to his own. Joe had not told him he had to entertain the vampire, just that he had to watch her and make sure she was taken care of. He could do that, and he would not care in the least if she starved. Tris certainly was not going to provide her with human blood to drink. She would have to do with animal blood. Something in the way of a rat sounded good, or maybe a possum—they were vile creatures—or even a weasel. Something that would keep her going; that was all she needed.

Once inside his room, he slammed the door, turned on the stereo, and slipped on his headphones. The music smashed into his ears and vibrated his brain. Korn helped to drown out his thoughts of the vampire in their basement. Caillech’s face popped into his mind. Even with her innocent eyes, her seductiveness had lured him in. He had never thought he would have been bespelled by her. Tris had never known such beauty and grace in another being. He had given up everything to be by her side. She awoke him to the pleasures of the flesh and so much more than there was in Heaven. The heavy bass filled his head, but it did little to stop his body’s reactions to the memories of Caillech’s hands trailing over his chest. The deft way she knew where to touch him and elicit the most passion with only the slightest brush of her lips along his collarbone or when her tongue flicked over his Adam’s apple. Tris felt his cock firm at the idea of being with her once more.

He closed his eyes and tried to force the images from his mind. A few songs played in his ears, and the CD player switched to something harder. Cradle of Filth pounded into his skull. For the first couple of songs, he was content and in peace listening to the shrieking lead singer. It helped to calm his nerves for a while. When the melody switched to something a little slower, darker, he sensed something in the room with him. Tris glanced down and saw Daniella kneeling before him on the floor. A smile twisted her lips into a seductive smirk. Those lips were more luscious than Caillech’s. He was going to shoo her away, but when she placed a finger to her lips he was struck silent. Daniella slithered up between his legs, trailing her nails over his pants so that the sharpness pierced through the fabric and he could feel them on his flesh. A moan stumbled from his lips when she placed kisses along the inside of his thigh, moving closer to his groin. His dick pressed against the seam of his trousers, yearning to break free of the cloth prison. She walked her fingers over his thighs and pulled his shirt from his waistband, yanking it so it ripped on the bottom.

Tris tried to move, but he was frozen to his chair. He gripped the armrests and tried to fight the pleasure racing through him. All his senses were obliterated with the ecstasy of her light touch from the electricity that singed his nerves.

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