Sommer Marsden's Blog, page 74

It's my lucky day! [WEEKEND GIVEAWAY]

The 13th. And since it's a Friday the 13th [shh...can you hear the horror movie music?], I'm giving away a print copy of Angry Sex . Just came in! Fresh off the um...porch. Where UPS left 'em.

Anyway, chances to win are simple:

Comment OR email and get a chance. (sommermarsden at gmail dot com)
Follow me on Twitter and get a chance (@sommer_marsden)
Follow me on Facebook and get a chance (Facebook.com/SommerMarsden).
Follow this blog and get a chance.

I'll chuck all the chances in a proverbial hat and pick one. The more you do, the bigger shot you have.

I'll send you a signed hard copy and some swag. I'll run this all weekend long and Monday morning I'll choose and contact a winner. *Make sure you leave a contact email! :)

Happy Friday the 13th!

XOXO
Sommer

Naughty boooks, ahoy!

I am woefully behind on updating you on books I'm appearing in. I blogged Erotica 2 edited by Barbara Cardy a while back, but I'm going to reiterate that and add Erotica 7 edited by Barbara Cardy to the fray. Woohoo!


And...I'm also in this little ditty called Shaming Mrs Sloan edited by Elizabeth Coldwell for Xcite.


There are more to come! I knew once April hit it would be a roller coaster ride of announcements. Eek! When it rains it pours. Dirty books, apparently. Oh well, better than cats and dogs. They get tangled up in my hair.

XOXO
Sommer

A slow fuzzy rolling ball of words...

When I realized I wanted to be a writer, I barely wrote. I wrote poetry, school papers, small things. Hell, I once passed a college Math course based on the quality of a paper I wrote. It was not my math skills, trust me. I also am still being taught, to the best of my knowledge, at a local college for "Core Classes" on how to write papers. Isn't that cool?

But then I stopped writing.

After a long bit of not writing. I started writing again. Girl child was small and I was having, for want of a better word, an identity crisis. I was supposed to have been a famous writer by then! (27) At the very least, I was supposed to have been a published writer by then (not counting college stuff). What was I? Who was I? From my perspective I was a young woman with an office job and two small kids (and a kick ass husband). A wonderful life for sure, but not the one I had pictured for myself only a few short years before.

The man, being so fucking calm and logical said, "Then write."

I wrote. I wrote a whole damn novel that everyone in my life read. I sent it out to publishers. I got praise but no bites. It was a mystery and as far as plot goes it was fair. As far as characters go, I am still super proud of it. But it sits in a drawer utterly dusty and marked up and dog eared from so many familial readers. But it did spur me on  to write all kinds of things. Short stories, poetry, flash fiction. And I was published. Huzzah!

[image error] Then my mother-in-law went back to work. We had no reliable child care and I decided to a) get the man a better job by planting a bug in his hear about one I'd heard of (he'll agree to this, I think) and b) quit my not terribly paying job to stay home. Things would be tight, super tight, but we'd make it work.

I stopped writing.

Then I home schooled for a few years due to various reasons and ended up keeping sane by writing stuff little things here and there, but nothing major. Nothing to sink my teeth into. I was floundering.

Our neighborhood changed, for the worse, and we put our house up for sale. We moved in with family for a very long year. Long to us because we are damn near hermits and 9 people in a house is lunacy, long to them because my brother-in-law had been deployed. But the week we moved in, I was officially cleared to go as a writer if I wanted. The kids were attending public school and I was given, by my wonderful man, a laptop after we got the house money.

I wrote...a bit.

March 2005, I stumbled over a site while researching another mystery I was writing (still living with family and volunteering in the kids new classes almost every single day. I even worked the library to boot.) It was Fishnet.com. I read a story. I read a 'porn' story. And I thought...hunh. So I googled for places taking submissions and found another wonderful place called Ruthie's Club. I read another story. I was floored. And I wondered if...I could...do that?

So I did and within ten hours of submitting they'd taken my story and asked for more. That was when it clicked for me. I was a writer and I was going to write. Period.

I haven't looked back. I pretty much write every day. If I don't, I often feel restless and crazed and sort of...grumpy. For years now, I have been bombarded with ideas and as this train clicks along on its imaginary track, I often feel frazzled trying to keep up. I want to write, I want to get it all, I don't want to miss anything at all. At all!

But lately things have shifted and I'm not sure why. In fact, I'm not even sure why I'm blogging this (wrote globbing first time) other than I am pleased and a bit peaceful and I love to stumble over things in blogs that I can identify with, so maybe you can identify. Things in me have found this low lulling rhythm.

I seem to be operating in this slow fuzzy rolling ball of words. And no, I am not still on those killer pain meds from surgery ;). I get ideas but am okay to either mentally file them away or jot them down. I am much more Zen about ideas, how fast they come and the (once upon a time) urge to do something with it right NOW! Which often stressed me out because I was juggling multiple long projects and usually shoving in several shorts where I could.

I don't know how long it will last. I don't even know if it will last. I might wake up tomorrow back to my white-knuckling self. I sometimes feel a stab of panic that I feel this way because I'm slacking off. But then I take three big steps back and look at my week. This week is trying to finish the secret selfish project (already up to 54k), two shorts--roughly 4k each, various bits of maddening paperwork and copy, and proofing a novel as my original self I'm hoping someone will be daring enough to publish. That is my new hope. This book as my original self being out there to be read.

I'm definitely not slacking off. Maybe I'm just learning to cut myself some slack, is all. I must be getting old. ;)

XOXO
Sommer

*sigh*

   It's rare to see a movie adaptation that even comes close to the book, in my opinion. I usually feel pretty let down. I remember being pretty damn happy by The Dark Half movie based on Stephen King's book. That, for me, did justice to the book. (Whereas, Pet Sematary...kill me now). Anyway, I didn't finish this book until Easter evening, so it was all very fresh in my head. Which means I could have been hyper critical if I wanted to be. And...I wasn't. It was a spectacular movie, in my opinion, where they tried to stick as close to the book as possible, and when they couldn't, the compromise was spot on.

We had a predictor behind us. This would be a person who would lean in to his companions and say, "Now she's going to..." and reveal stuff about three seconds before they happened. Had I been with him, I'd have smothered him about twenty minutes in. There was also a massive throat clearer and a popcorn bag rattler and the dreaded cell phone addict who couldn't just keep it in her pants.

But overall, the movie was a great deal of fun and we all came out very happy. One of the most exciting moment for me was when I realized Stanley Tucci was in it! No one told me Stanley Fucking Tucci was in this. I was so happy. I have a bit of a crush on Mr. Tucci. Like...he'd be on my freebie list and everything.

And yes, I did cry. Those of you who saw the movie or read the book know what part. And I bawled like a baby. To the point where I think I embarrassed girl child. Oh well, she'll live. I hope to embarrass her for many more years to come. Huzzah!

(Now I impatiently wait to get my hands on book two)

XOXO
Sommer

Still hungry...

So after speed reading The Hunger Games after my children spent months (nay, years, says boy child!) poking me in the ass with pitchforks, I am still hungry. To see the movie, that is. We were supposed to go today after my mad dash to read the whole book in four days while working and Easter and all that jazz. But one of the spawn is experiencing intestinal disturbances today. Intestinal disturbance the day after Easter=too much fucking chocolate.

Me: How much chocolate did you eat?

Minion 1: Some

Me: What's some?

Minion 1: A bit

Me: Do you know what chocolate is?

Minion 1: Delicious?

Minion 2: Is it a laxative? (joyously)

Me: Yes, yes it is...

So! The plan for tomorrow is NO CHOCOLATE and to actually manage to see The Hunger Games. I'm in the process of snagging book two as we speak. Can't wait to see what happens!

XOXO
Sommer

Happy...

Easter or Spring or whatever it is you celebrate. We have brunch tomorrow. I'm excited, I haven't really been to a family function since before surgery. I am finally, happily, utterly starting to feel like myself again. Still a bit slower but totally getting there. Baking, writing, walking the dog, wine, sex, cooking dinner. You like how I slipped that wine and sex in there, didn't you? Yeah. Me too. ;)

Happy tomorrow. Whatever it is you might do!

XOXO
Sommer

Get 'em while they're hot...

Snafu all rectified. My bestselling M/M novella Unexpected is Deal of the Day at Ebook Eros. Ten copies, a buck a pop, that's about an 80% savings. Grab one. :)

Off I go to do whatever I am supposed to do. Whatever that was...I have forgotten. :/

XOXO
Sommer

Friday's Deal of the Day at Eros Books is...

Moi! Yep, me. I made eBook Eros 'Deal of the Day!' 10 copies of my M/M novella Unexpected will be $1.00 each Friday, 11:00 AM EST. 1st come 1st serv. www.ebook-eros.com
I'm telling you now in case I oversleep. Don't want to miss it. :)
XOXOSommer

Angry Sex on My Porch

My copies came! The UPS man literally chucked them onto my porch (Grr...). But, they are soooooo pretty! I lined them up, held them up, examined them and made some girlish noises. Willsin Rowe's cover is just as gorgeous in person as it is in ebook.

I'm putting up a little dirty snippet of Angry Sex today to celebrate. It is definitely NSFW.

Also, thanks to all my guest bloggers this week and to all the readers who read them and those who left comments. :)

I have writing to do, banking to do, thrift storing to do with girl child. Busy, busy bee. Buzz, buzz, buzz...but first. That dirty NSFW snippet:

From ANGRY SEX
*also now available in print
by Sommer Marsden
NSFW Excerpt:

He moved over her,kissed her once, hard, and stared her down. "Hi," Adam said, positioninghimself between her legs. But he didn't push into her. Just positioned himselfthat way—in a holding pattern—right above her and touched up against her netherlips. "Hi," Lunabreathed, trying very hard to stay still. To stay calm."Hi," he saidagain and slipped into her slowly. She was so wet he entered with ease, drivingdeep so that they connected with the smack of pelvic bones and matching gaspsof pleasure.Luna nodded,stupidly. She gripped him, and moved her hips up to fill herself with his cock.He was thick which stretched her in a way she wasn't used to. Until recently,it had been masturbation with slim toys for quite a while and now…oh now, shewas full of him and it felt good to be full. "Okay?" he asked, his movementsamping up. His thrusts rough and desperate."Okay, okay," shesaid and nodded. A slam of emotions worked through her—the anger at his angertoward her. The shock that her bedroom door was open and they were fucking. Theremembered sadness that her son was gone. She shut her eyes to block it out, tohide it from him.Now was not thetime for emotion. Now was the time for release.Adam kissed heragain and must have caught something. His fingers swept the moist skin beneathher eyes and she shuddered internally because there was no denying the wetnesson his fingertips. "None of that, boss lady," he said. She made a noiselike a startled bird when he grabbed her arms and pushed them above her head.Elbows bent, wrists crossed, upper body pinned beneath his. She brought herlegs up high and wide to get him in as deep as he could get. Every thrustbrought his pelvic bone down on her clit, sending a damp shiver through herbody. She was going to come. But so caught up in the pain and confusion, lustand urgency, she felt like she was swirling down a drain. Being sucked tonowhere on a wave of tainted pleasure. Goodness deeply veined with grief.Adam shoved hardagainst her wrists, the small bones grinding together provoking a burst ofpain. He found the tenderest bit of her throat with his teeth and bit her, allthe while rocking into her with quiet intention.She came. Thenoise of her orgasm ripped out of her on a deep and embarrassing sob. She wastoo far gone to stop it and her confusion made its loud stamp on the quiet roomwith a different mournful sound. And yet her pussy continued to clamp and spasmaround him. Taking every thrust he offered, milking every ounce of bliss shecould get from their coupling. It left her weak and shaken. Adam pulled fromher, grunting, "good". When he stood, cock hard and flushed, it hit her—hehadn't climaxed.He was rifling inhis pants and she sat up, wiping her eyes, too shocked to feel embarrassed byher tears. "You didn't…" she started.He glanced at her,blue eyes flashing in the low light thrown off by the dim table lamp she alwayskept on. "Didn't what, boss lady?" He flashed her ahalf smile and she felt heated attraction fill her again. "You didn't come."She nodded to his erection even as a blush heated her cheeks.Adam ripped hisbelt from the loops and Luna watched, feeling slow and confused. What the hellwhat he doing?When he movedtoward her, she didn't think to move away. She simply sat there. He dropped tothe bed and grabbed her hand. She turned her palm against his and clasped hishand briefly, he squeezed as if they were sweethearts holding hands.  "That's because we're not done yet," he said.Then he placed herhand on his cock and she felt his pulse there, the dampness on his skin fromtheir sex, the jerk of his desire when she squeezed. Adam gave anothergrunt—for some reason his caveman sounds turned her on to no end—and then hewhipped his belt out and around her wrist. Before she could react, he'd movedbehind her, the mattress bouncing joyfully with his movements. "What are youdoing?" she squeaked."We're supposed tobe having angry sex, Luna. Not sad sex, or emotional sex, or happy sex, orgiggly sex. Angry sex. So, I'mhelping you get your anger back."She had no ideawhat he was talking about, but when he grabbed his belt and used it to trussher upper arms up so she couldn't move them, she let out a caterwaul worthy ofan angry cat."Let me go!""Nope. Hang outright here and get your anger back, lady." He grabbed a pair of nylons she hadon the bedside chair and did something with them. He was behind her and so wereher hands so she had no idea what he was doing—all she knew was the end resultwas she couldn't move away from the bedpost. She was not only trapped in hisbelt but she was bound to her bed.Luna's breathingwas hard and she gritted her teeth—ire filling her gut."Let me go," shesaid as calmly as she could."Soon." He turnedand started to walk to the doorway. His cock was still hard and flushed, and shestill felt an amazing surge of want when she saw him."But where are yougoing?" Her voice was too high, too panicky."To make asandwich. I'm starved." He walked out of the room as she sat there gaping. What. The. Fuck?

Guest Blogger: Katie Salidas

Yay! Katie Salidas is here today to talk about her most current book Soulstone. Katie's writes vampires. And here she looks so sweet, now doesn't she? ;)

Without further chatter, away we go with Katie...

XOXO
Sommer







To kill, ornot to kill, that is the question!
So, at the end of Pandora's Box (Book three in theImmortalis series) I left readers with a question, "Is Lysander truly dead, orcan he be saved?" No, I'm not going to reveal his fate now, you'll just have toread Soulstone to find out. I know, I'm such a meanie! =pBut, it brings up a great topic. Killing off characters.As an author, my characters are somewhat like my children.Each one has a backstory, a current story, and a potential future. I've taken alot of time developing them.  I'vecreated them from scratch and watched them virtually grow. So, with that inmind you'd think it would be abhorred to me to end their fictionalexistence.  I mean, what mother wouldever want to harm their child, right? In some cases, yes. There are some characters that wouldbreak my heart to destroy. On the other hand, there are some characters whoneed to die. Boy do I sound mean now. Stick with me though and you'll see whatI mean.Some characters have to die. It's the circle of life. (insertthe famed Elton John song from the Lion King). Every fictional character has alifespan. They have a purpose in a story and sometimes their death serves thatpurpose. In Pandora's box, for example, I had to kill of a characterI loved. I felt very sad when the moment came to end her existence, and I amnot afraid to admit that I shed a tear for the loss of her fictional life. Shewas one of my favorite secondary characters. Hers was a necessary death. It created a chain reaction ofevents. Without her death, her mate would not have developed the recklessattitude that allowed him to challenge the werewolf pack leader and earn hisrespect. Without that earned respect, the wolf pack would never have helped thevampire clan with the Pandora's Box. This is of course a simple explanation ofthe events in Pandora's Box, but you see just like with real life, every actionhas a reaction and all things are connected. It's the butterfly effect. Youknow, that theory that if a butterfly flaps his wings somewhere in the worldand it causes a ripple effect that eventually links to a hurricane on the otherside of the world. I believe it is also known as chaos theory. But, I'm gettingoff track. The point is, sad as it can be, some character deaths have tohappen.So, some deaths are necessary. But, there are also "fun"deaths. Now I sound like a psycho. LoL. And to that I'll say, all writers are alittle bit crazy. Sometimes it's therapeutic and even fun to kill off acharacter, especially an evil one that "has it coming." There is a certainsatisfaction for me as a writer when I kill off a bad guy, and I'll bet otherauthors out there can attest to this too.The "bad guy" deaths. Those are the deaths you expect to seein a book. The bad guy should have an untimely end. And there is an unwrittenrule that says the death of the bad guy needs to match up with the level ofevil that "bad guy" has committed. That's what makes the death reallysatisfying. You want them to pay for their crimes. And making them pay is fun.It's vindication for not only the author but the reader too. As much as I havefun killing off bad guys in the most deserving way possible, readers too tellme they love it when the bad guy "gets it!" So, writing character deaths is a natural part of thefictional circle of life, and sometimes a really fun part of being an author. And yes, if you read to the end of Soulstone you'll find outLysander's fate. Until then, you'll just have to wonder…
SoulstoneBook 4 inthe Immortalis SeriesBarnes & Noble - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/souls...
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Soulstone-Katie...
Kindle - http://www.amazon.com/Soulstone-Immor...
It's a desperate time for rookie vampire Alyssa, and hersanity is hanging by a slender thread. Her clan is still reeling from the monumentalbattle with Aniketos; a battle that claimed the body of Lysander, her sire andlover, and trapped his spirit in a mysterious crystal. A Soulstone.
Unfortunately, no amount of magic has been able to releaseLysander's spirit, and the stone is starting to fade. Weeks of effort haveproved futile. Her clan, the Peregrinus, have all but given up hope. OnlyAlyssa still believes her lover can be released. In despair, Alyssa begs thehelp of the local witch coven, and unwittingly exposes the supernaturals ofBoston to unwanted attention from the Acta Sanctorum.
The Saints converge on the city and begin their cleansingcrusade to rid the world of all things "Unnatural." In the middle of an all-outwar, but no closer to a solution to the dying stone, Alyssa is left with anunenviable choice: save her mate, or save her clan.
SampleChaptersCHAPTER 1
Down the creaky steps I walked, alone, heading for thebasement. Visiting Lysander had become my nightly ritual. I'd wake upin my bed, reach out to the empty sheets, and feel nothing but crushingemptiness. It's hard to believe that the absence of someone can bear such aheavy weight on one's soul, but it does. That's when realization would hit me,and I'd relive that terrible memory of seeing Lysander, my love, my mate, diveinto the flames. Only after coming downstairs to the dark, dungeon-likebasement, would I feel better.I took a deep breath and stepped down onto the cold concretefloor. To my already tepid skin, the ground felt icy. Winter's chill had frozeneverything, and the basement was no real shelter from the cold. I probablyshould have worn something more than socks, but in my desperation to see him,I'd ignored basic necessities. I shook off the chill working its way up myspine and continued on. "Good evening sweetie." I said it as if he could hear me. His spirit could, I guess, but Lysander had no voice withwhich to respond. Still, it made me feel better to talk to him as if he werealive and in front of me. "It's snowing outside. Boston is a winter wonderland. Zuritook us shopping for coats and boots." Lysander had lived the last fifty yearsin Las Vegas. I had grown up there, before becoming a vampire. So for desertrats such as us, snow was as infrequent as rain, which made them special. Nowthat we were on the east coast, both were very common but neither had losttheir beauty, at least to me they hadn't. "I wish you could see it, honey. It'sjust gorgeous out there. Everything's covered in white." No response, as always. Not that I had really expected one.Hoped for, yes. But, at this rate, my hope was beginning to wear thin.Too much time had passed since he'd been trapped inside thecrystal that now served as his prison. The fragile hope I held of saving himwas almost gone. I grew restless for a resolution. His spirit felt weaker. Thewarmth of his presence was almost … transparent. Ariana, our resident witch, had not yet come up with asolution. She'd managed an impressive feat, trapping Aniketos back into thePandora's Box. But because she'd used her own spells instead of the originalones from the old scrolls, Lysander had been trapped too. His spirit nowresided in a large blood-red crystal. She'd said her coven might be able to help; however, weekslater, we still had no resolution. Others in the house had already given up. Icould feel it in the way they avoided any talk of Lysander or the crystal.They'd always find a way to change the subject. A few times, I had the sneakingsuspicion that they were purposefully avoiding me so as not to have to talkabout it. I reached up and pulled the chain, flicking on the overheadlight. The basement was small and bare. Brownstones in the Back Bay area ofBoston were built tall, not wide, so the basement didn't take up much squarefootage. Lysander's coffin sat in the middle. Just a plain pine box thatreminded me of ones from the old westerns I'd watched as a kid.  It had been quickly constructed, and wasn't ashowpiece; just a simple, almost flimsy box, only meant to hold Lysander untilwe could find some way to release his spirit. Seeing it there, sitting all alone in the cold dark room,caused my heart to seize. Each time I set eyes on the coffin, for a briefmoment, my world crumbled into dust—like everything important had been destroyed,except the reminder of the act that put him in this coffin. For as long as he'd been lying there, I hoped he wascomfortable. Part of me felt guilty, like the others and I should have gottenhim something a little nicer to sleep in. That thought too made the permanenceof death seem more real. A tear welled up in my eye, and I wiped it away.The pine box is fine. He won't be in it much longer. I pushed aside the lid and leaned it against the side of thebox. Inside, Lysander lay, looking as if he were sleeping off his terribleinjuries. Where his body wasn't scabbed or bruised, the skin appearedashen in color and almost plastic-looking, as if not really skin at all, but asort of waxy coating. I shivered at the gruesome sight. He'd been so beautifulbefore the fire charred him. His once-gorgeous chocolate-colored hair had beensinged away in the blaze, leaving only a few patches here and there to remindme of its original color. The tips of his fangs poked down from behind dry,parched lips. I'd tried to give him blood, hoping it might restore him, but ithadn't had any effect. His body was frozen in the moment his spirit had leftit.The fire had almost destroyed him before his spirit had beencaught. Ariana had suggested to me that Lysander had already died and hisspirit was moving on when she trapped him. She told me that if we freed it fromthe crystal, he might not return to his body. I wasn't ready to accept that. I could still feel hispresence, though weak, emanating from the large soda bottle-sized crystal.Whether in his body or not, his spirit was still with us. That had to count forsomething. He was still here with us and alive, for all intents and purposes.And until we knew otherwise, I did not want to hear talk of him "moving on." I hoped and prayed to every deity out there that when Arianadid find the answer, Lysander could be returned to his body. Even if heremained charred and burned, I'd still love him. I didn't want to face eternitywithout him.I'd placed the crystal on his chest and folded his armsacross it. There it had rested for the last two weeks while I tried to findanswers. I hoped keeping the two together like this would help in some smallway."Alyssa the widow is back to mourn again," said an overlychipper voice from the top of the stairs. "Shouldn't you be wearing black?"I craned my head to look up and found Ian standing at thetop of the stairs. As usual he was dressed for a night out: raven-black hairslicked back with just a few strands framing his face, skin-tight t-shirt andtight-legged jeans to ensure nothing was left to the imagination, and toppedoff with a leather coat. I often wondered if he had been a greaser before beingturned. He certainly looked the part. "Widow implies death, Ian," I said with as much snark as Icould put into my mournful voice."Widow also implies… available." Ian beamed down with histhousand-watt smile. "I've had enough of this moping. You're coming out with metonight." He took the stairs at a trot. "No, thanks. I don't need to hunt tonight." I looked down atLysander again. "You have to come back, honey. Look what you're leaving mewith.""I'm not taking no for an answer." Ian's breath blew acrossmy ear. I felt the closeness of his body almost pressing against my back. "And Iprefer to be the one on the hunt."I jumped in response, and my head collided with his. "Ugh.Ian! Stop it. I'm not one of your waitresses or barmaids. Leave me alone." Aspike of pain radiated through my skull. I could only hope I'd done more damageto Ian. The nerve of him, hitting on me in front of Lysander."No, you're not. Which makes the hunt all that much more funfor me. Tricky little prey, aren't you, Alyssa?" If I had injured him, hedidn't show it. In fact, whatever pain I'd caused him, he might have evenliked.I groaned in frustration and rubbed the sore spot on theback of my head.  "Oh, c'mon. Try me. You just might like it." He winked.I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "I don't want to tryanyone, especially not a sleazy vampire that'll sleep with anything thatbreathes.""Not fair. I didn't sleep with your human friend, Fallon.""That's 'cause she's with Aiden."Ian grimaced for a brief second before his smile returned."She's off limits.""And so am I.""Just come out and have fun.""Fun for you is getting in the sack.""Look, you might see me as sleazy. I prefer the term'promiscuous'; it has a nicer ring to it. But the bottom line is, at least I'm out there living life, not mopingaround in some dingy cellar, waiting for a man who'll never return." Histypically cheerful tone had all but vanished. "I'm trying to help you."It was the first time I had ever seen Ian serious. Beyondthat, he almost looked angry. His blue-gray eyes narrowed on me and his lipcurled ever so slightly. "You have to know when to give up." He inclined hishead toward the coffin. "Let a lost cause go."I stared at him while anger and grief fought each other tobe the dominant emotion inside me. My jaw quivered. I mashed my teeth togetherso it wouldn't show. "Lost cause? Lysander's not a lost cause." My eyes watered.I blinked and turned away. I didn't want to melt down again. I didn't wantanyone seeing me like this.   "Look, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings," Ian said, softeninghis tone. He smiled at me, but it didn't have its usual brilliance.   "You don't know whatthis feels like. To know that your mate is here, lying as if dead. But I feelhim. I know he hasn't gone yet. Yes, Ian. I can feel his spirit. Right here." I picked the crystal up, off Lysander's chest, and held itfor Ian to see. "He's not dead and gone. I know you can't feel it, but I can.That's what makes this so difficult.""I get it. You've been so maudlin lately. I'm just trying tolighten things up. Put a smile on that pouty face."I huffed. There was no getting through to that man. Howcould I expect him to understand the loss of a mate? He was the pathologicalplayboy of the immortal world. Sex was his answer for all life's problems. "I'm sorry. Let's try this again." Ian's wide eyes suddenlynarrowed on the crystal. "Hey, didn't that used to be all red?""What?" I pulled it closer to inspect. When Lysander hadbeen trapped, the crystal had gone from completely transparent to a deep redcolor, as if it were made from blood itself. To my surprise now, the tip hadturned clear."What does this mean?" I mumbled more to myself than to Ian."Good news, probably. Maybe the longer you keep that thingon Lysander's chest, the more his spirit can seep back into his body."Oh, how I wished he were right! Ever the optimist, Ian hadgiven me a little more hope. Maybe the spell would reverse its self after ashort while, and Lysander would heal and return to us."Ariana is coming by later. You can show her then."I gave Ian a genuine smile. "There it is. That's what I've been looking for. You look sopretty when you're not moping. Now, let's go out and celebrate this good news."Part of me wanted to. I'd been cooped up for the last twoweeks, researching and staying by Lysander's side. It would be nice to get outand enjoy the city. Ian took a step, closing the gap between us. He was a tallman, six foot or better. He pulled me into a hug and cradled my head to hischest. "It's not a crime to go out and have fun. You have to live too.Otherwise, what's immortality good for?" I pulled back and looked down at the crystal in my hands. Itseemed to pulse, as if Lysander were trying to tell me something. The warm,tingling sensation of his presence briefly flashed through me. Maybe he wassaying the same thing: You shouldn't forget to live. I held it up and gently kissed the smooth sides. "I'll beback soon," I said, and then placed it against his chest. "Atta girl." Ian's full blinding smile returned. "Let's turnthat frown upside down, permanently. We're gonna hit the town and have a littlefun." "I'll go out with you tonight, on two conditions," I said asI closed the lid to the coffin."Name them.""Quit with the cheesy lines. You need some new material.""Ouch. I think I might be insulted," Ian quipped.I shook my head. "Oh, poor baby. It couldn't hurt that bad.I doubt anything in the world could damage that ego.""You're so feisty and full of anger. I know a way to relievesome of that tension." He waggled his eyebrows.I gave him my best I-don't-think-so look and drummed myfingers on the top of the coffin. "Can't blame a guy for trying. Either way, you're stillsmiling." He smirked. "What's the other condition?""That you talk Zuri into coming with us.""Spoil sport." Ian shot up the stairs, leaving me alone withLysander's body.I had to laugh. Ian just didn't give up. That, in its ownfunny way, gave me more hope. Maybe he was right and Lysander might actuallymake a comeback. That was a reason to celebrate, even if it was with Ian. Itook one last look at the coffin. "Are you sure I should go out with him?" Imumbled to the box. As expected, there was no response, but I still feltLysander spirit. I wished, just once, that he would answer. With a sigh, Iheaded to the stairs, pulling the chain for the light as I walked by. "I'll seeyou later honey. Don't you go waking up without me, okay?"



CHAPTER 2
As I went upstairs to get ready for my night with Ian, Istumbled upon my clan members seated around a large cherrywood table in theformal dining room. I stepped inside to see if any of them wanted to join mefor a night out on the town. I opened my mouth to speak and caught the awkwardglances that Nicholas, Crystal, and Drew were giving me. Silence enveloped theroom, as if my presence were unwanted. "Did I miss dinner?" I asked, hoping to break theawkwardness of the moment with a little humor, but none of them laughed at mybad joke. Nicholas folded his hands in front of him on the table. Heshook his head and clenched his jaw as if he wanted to say something but washolding back. Drew looked down at the dining table, pretending to be intenselystudying the grain of the wood, while Crystal sat back in her chair, picking ather long, manicured fingernails. If I wasn't mistaken, they seemed to beavoiding eye contact with me. This was one of those many times I wished I werean older vampire and had developed the ability to read thoughts. Being anewbie, as I was, I had almost none of the nifty abilities that the moreexperienced vampires had. I could sense emotions, but that wouldn't do me muchgood here. I did, however, have the sneaking suspicion they'd all been talkingabout me. "Okay then," I said to break the silence. "Lysander'scrystal is in the coffin if anyone is looking for it. I noticed somethingdifferent about it today. Possibly a good thing. Fingers crossed. When Arianagets here we need to have her take a look at it. Maybe the spell is reversingitself. Wouldn't that be great?"Crystal glanced up for a brief second and smiled awkwardlyat me. Drew cleared his throat and it sounded like he said, "Okay,"but didn't bother to turn and look in my direction. I found it odd that none of them bothered to comment on whatI had said about Lysander or the crystal. Come to think of it, they'd beenacting funny for the last few evenings; avoiding me, ignoring me, and spendinga lot of time in their own little group. Did they know something I didn't? Andif they did, why weren't they telling me? I wanted to blurt these questions outbut knew better. If they were trying to hide something from me, the directapproach wasn't going to get me any answers. I'd have to keep a close watch onthem to find out myself. "Anyway… Ian is dragging me out of the house. We're going tohit the bar. If anyone else wants to join us, I'd love to have you. Pleasecome."Crystal shook her head and folded her arms across the table,but maintained her silence."Drew, Nicholas, either of you guys want to tag along? Don'tmake me go out with Ian all by myself." I figured that would at least get arise out of one of them. They'd been like overprotective brothers, and Ian wasjust the kind of guy that brothers kept away from their little sisters.  "Actually, that mightbe best." Drew said in his usually chipper tone. "You get along well with theBoston crowd. I feel you should go out with them more often. It would do yougood.""I'm sorry… what?" To say I was startled would be anunderstatement. "Remember we're talking about Ian here. Mr. Wannabe Casanova.You want me to go out with him tonight?" "You can handle him,"Drew responded."What I think Drew is trying to say," Crystal said softly,"is that we want to see you going out and having fun. We're worried for you.The Boston crowd is younger, and you can relate to them better. Maybe that'swhat you need to move on.""Move on!" I said a bit louder than I wanted to. "Nicholas,back me up here. Have you moved on from Rozaline?"I realized about two seconds too late that I probablyshouldn't have reopened that wound. And I was right. Nicholas's face tensed.His jaw clenched. His eyes zeroed in on mine, and without needing to hear thesound I knew he was still screaming in pain on the inside. Rozaline, Nicholas's mate, had died days before Lysander hadbeen charred and trapped in the crystal. We'd all watched her decapitated anddrained at the ghostly hands of Aniketos. Her death had been gruesome and veryfinal, and I doubt even the coldest heart out there could have gotten over thatpain so quickly. "Sorry, that was wrong of me. I didn't mean it to come outlike that. All I'm trying to say is, she died and he is allowed to mourn.Lysander isn't dead, and you all seem to want to act like he is. There isnothing for me to move on from."Crystal stood and walked purposefully toward me. "We justfeel like you might be holding false hope. We don't want you to hurt more ifthings don't work out.""At least I have hope." I couldn't hold back the raw emotionin my voice. "At least I want things to be better. What are you all doing? Haveyou lost your humanity completely? This is no different than if he were in acoma in a hospital. If we were human, I'd be by his side every day, because Ilove him. That's what you do when you love someone."She put her arm around me. "You're not wrong to care. And wedo want things to be better. Even if that means letting go."I jerked away from her."Not of your hope," she added. "Let go of some of the pain.Don't forget you have to live too. Transfer that energy into somethingproductive, so you're not constantly dwelling on the uncertainty of hissituation.""And what if I'm not ready to let go of the pain? What ifall I have is my pain?""You know that's a lie." She pulled me back into her arms."You have us. We care… in our own way."Drew stood and joined us. His massive height dwarfed bothCrystal and me. "So go out tonight. Have fun with Ian and Zuri and anyone elseyou can drag along with you. Get out of this house. That's all we want.""Then I want you all to come too." If I was to be forcedinto going out and having fun, they should have to go too. It was only fair."We've already hunted," Drew said with an obviously fakesmile. "And I don't really care much for the dance clubs here.""There is nothing you can say that will get me to go toanother bar," Nicholas said with a note of finality. I knew better than to push him. We shared a common pain,though not exactly the same, and I wouldn't blame him at all for lockinghimself away to mourn. Losing a mate with whom you have shared eternity is notsomething you can just walk away from. He'd been ready to join her, offeringhimself as a sacrifice, but that too had been stolen from him when Lysandertook his place."Well, I know Crystal will go with me." I gave her my bestyou're-not-getting-out-of-this look. Crystal liked to go to parties and clubs.She'd been the first to take me out dancing after I'd been turned. "No excuses.If you don't go, I don't go."She sighed and for a brief moment, I almost believed she wasangry at me for giving her an ultimatum; but then a smile blossomed from hertight lips. "Oh, all right. I'll go out tonight."Drew cleared his throat. "I thought we had our own plans fortonight." He put his arm around his mate. "Remember, just the two of us?"She stammered for a moment and looked up at her mate withconfusion in her eyes. "Oh… yes… I completely forgot. Alyssa, let's have agirls' night some other time."I couldn't put my finger on it, but they were all actingvery suspicious. I sighed in disappointment. "Fine. I'll see you all later.Will someone call me if Ariana gets here before I return?""If we're home." Drew said with a cocky tone that didn'tsuit him. Something was definitely up. "Yeah, okay. If you're around, give me a call," I said, andthen turned and headed toward my room to get ready. 

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Katie Salidas is a Super Woman!Endowed with special powers and abilities, beyond those of mortal women, Shecan get the munchkin off to gymnastics, cheerleading, Girl Scouts, and swimlessons.  She can put hot food on the table for dinner while assistingwith homework, baths, and bedtime… And, She still finds the time to keep thehubby happy (nudge nudge wink wink). She can do all of this and still have timeto write.  And if you can believe all of those lies, thereis some beautiful swamp land in Florida for sale… Katie Salidas resides in Las Vegas,Nevada. Mother, wife, and author, she does try to do it all, often causingsleep deprivation and many nights passed out at the computer. Writing books isher passion, and she hopes that her passion will bring you hours ofentertainment.
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