Denise Verrico's Blog: Immortyl Revolution, page 8

Lyle Blake Smythers Talks about his new novel, Feasting With Panthers/Book Giveaway

Today, I welcome Lyle Blake Smythers to Immortyl Revolution.  Lyle has graciously offered a copy of his novel to one lucky commenter! 
Contest:We are going to be giving away a free copy of the novel, either a print edition or an e-book, to one of the readers of this blog. Interested readers should leave a comment here that includes their email address. Lyle will select the most intriguing poster to be the winner. The deadline to enter this contest is May 11, 2012 at 11:59 p.m. EST.  Readers who follow me during this entire virtual book tour and post at each blog stop will be entered for a drawing to win a print of the outstanding cover art by Duncan Eagleson.



We found the first one-eyed man at dawn...
So begins the highly original fantasy tale of warrior poet Catalan, when he and his band stumble upon a handsome acolyte near death in a mountain pass. But when the acolyte reveals his mystical vision, the poet finds himself at the center of a War Game between two mysterioussorcerers. To unravel the mystery, Catalan and the agents of the War Game must seek the missing pieces of an enchanted chess set in a quest complicated by deceit and treachery, in which nothing is what it seems.



WHERE DID MY NOVEL FEASTING WITH PANTHERS COME FROM?
The original kernel that gave life to some of the multiple plotlines came from an old edition of the Arabian Nights I found as a child.  My family was traveling through the mountains of southwest  Virginia, on our way to visit relatives near Galax,  and we stopped in a tiny hamlet called Fancy Gap.  We wandered into a used furniture place that had a table of used books for sale.  I picked up an old copy of the Andrew Lang retellings, one with terrific illustrations.  Soon I was riveted by the great stories inside.  I was already  familiar with the well-known  ones about Sinbad the Sailor, Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, and Aladdin, but soon I got to lesser-known ones that were equally intriguing.  One that really interested me described a porter in Baghdad who carried a package home for a customer and found himself mingling with strange visitors in her house, men who had missing eyes and shaved heads.  Each had his own story to tell, and wondrous stories they were. 
Even in elementary  school, I had started to write my own stories.  Adventure stories, science fiction, my own version of Tarzan tales, bizarre people and creatures hidden in darkest Africa.  Somewhere along the way I resolved to find a way to retell some of these stories of one-eyed men and the dangers they had faced and overcome.  Fast forward some thirty years.I was visiting a friend in Baltimore and we went to a Star Trek convention.  At this point I had started to tinker with an outline for the Arabian nights novel but was getting nowhere.  I wanted a unifying thread more significant than just a chance encounter with strangers in a strange house.  At the con they were showing a variety of fantasy/SF movies and I ended up in LADYHAWKE, the medieval fantasy story of two lovers trying to find each other again while under two very different shape-shifting curses.  What caught my attention was the motivation behind the person who put them under their spells:  They had been cursed out of REVENGE.  I had it.  My characters would be subjected to the horrible perils they faced because a powerful magician was wreaking revenge.  On whom?  And why?  It didn’t take me long to work that out.  And my book was born.
I wanted to work within the framework of standard heroic fantasy but add fresh elements to give the reader an experience never felt before. Not just sorcerers and a quest (they are there) but a hallucinogenic drug, green snow, a boy turned into a monkey, a convention of puppeteers, an outdoor festival where people come to see a magic trick only performed once a year. Also bloody revenge.  I started to have fun with it.
My love of language, basically my ongoing love affair with words, led me to using four different narrators, each with his own voice, which I tried to make as distinctive and vivid as possible.  I also ended up weaving in snippets of description and quotations from some of my favorite authors, from Shakespeare to Faulkner.  As I recently commented on the Pink Narcissus Press Facebook page, I read widely and steal from people who are dead.
Oh, and about the title.  When I was in grad school, getting the Master’s in Library Science that carried me into the professional field of books and more books, I saw a PBS documentary on Oscar Wilde.  It was entitled “Feasting With Panthers,” a phrase I immediately seized upon.
As many people know, Wilde was convicted and imprisoned as a sexual outlaw.  Writing from prison, he said this of his sexual encounters with boys or young men half his age:
“They, from the point of view through which I, as an artist in life approached them, were delightfully suggestive and stimulating.  It was like feasting with panthers.  The danger was half the excitement.  I used to feel as the snake-charmer must feel when he lures the cobra.  They were to me the brightest of gilded snakes.  Their poison was part of their perfection.” I knew that I had to use that title somewhere, somehow.  It wasn’t until I was well launched on my fantasy adventure, with its unusually large sentry cats, that it occurred to me where the title belonged.  Once I had made that decision, I found myself using the image of a large dangerous creature as a symbol several places in the narrative, notably during the climax.  And, yes, there is blood.
I hope that you will join me on this strange journey.


Right now Feasting can be pre-ordered from Barnes and Noble and from my publisher at Pink Narcissus Press.  It will be available shortly on Amazon.  I can be reached on Facebook.


Lyle is on tour with the  Virtual Book Tour Cafe' , and you can follow  HERE
A very big thanks to Lyle for joining me today!  


Tomorrow, Sexy Cedric will be back to share some tidbits of his new urban fantasy adventures in Servant of the Goddess and Annals of the Immortyls.

Congrats Winners-Tracy Faul: MFS and BN100: Tian's Hero!

Congrats to Delphina, Winner of Hunter Moon by Cait Lavender!

Sexy Cedric Interview/Giveaway Tian's Hero by Cherie Noel

Today, I welcome Tian from Tian's Hero by Cherie Noel.  He appears to have brought a few friends.  This should be fun.  I'm always up for a group effort, as you know.  


Contest: You can enter to win an e-copy of Tian's Hero and also be entered in this blog's monthly drawing for an e-copy  of my story, My Fearful Symmetry, simply by leaving a comment for our guests at the end of the post. Please leave a contact email.  Winners for both drawings will be chosen by random drawing. Deadline 4/30/12 at 11:59 p.m. EST.



Welcome to Sexy Saturday with Cedric!  Hmm...it seems we have rather a crowd here today, Tian.  I do hope you’ll share a few spicy tidbits, my darlings.  Settle into my hot seat of love.  Don’t worry--I never bite unless invited. Please introduce yourself and your friends to the readers.
*Tian smiles, cheeks pinking just a little as he waves hello*
Tian: “Hi. My name’s Tian. This is Kay, my consort—oooh, his name is actually Kayron. I just call him Kay, ‘cause it’s shorter and Kayron can really be a mouthful and—”
*Tian breaks off with a squeak, face flaming bright red and both hand covering his eyes*
Kay: “Oh, fer the love of—Tian, love, don’t forget the pastries you brought.”
*The curly haired man seated to Tian’s left pipes up, his smooth tones rich with the brogue common to all Ciarlund natives. Tian peeks out between two fingers of one hand, his soft green eyes bright with the light of embarrassment. He pokes the pudgy, dark and curly haired man in the side.*
Tian:“You get them.”
*A low growl sounds from Tian’s other side.*
Lewell’yn: “I’m Lewell’yn. Take the fucking muffins and bloody well say thanks.”
*a decorative wickerwork basket piled high with assorted muffins and pastries is shoved into Cedric’s hands by a tall, darkly menacing man with the oddest silver eyes*

Cedric: Uh...thanks.  These are lovely. I've received many gifts and tributes, but never in pastry.  
~Lewell’yn leans close and whispers~

Lewell’yn: “If you make him cry I’ll come back later and kill you. No offense, and I’ll do you quick… I just can’t take anymore bloody tears. He’s so fucking hormonal right now. That’s not a joke. Kay says sometimes—”
*Kay jumps out of his seat, grabs Lewell’yn’s massive arm and yanks on it.*
Kay: “Sit down, Lewell’yn. And stop threatening people. You’re going to make Tian look bad. None of the other consorts on Nakntiios run around threatening the nice media people interviewing their Counts and Earls and… well, they just don’t.”

Cedric: Never fear love, I'm an accomplished swordsman.  I can handle myself.
*Lewell’yn grunts, casts one more menacing glare at Cedric and then allows Kay to herd him back to his seat*

*Sitting back down, Kay smiles brightly at Cedric.*

Kay: “Right then, where were we?”
Cedric: Tian, why don’t you share a little about your vital statistics?  What makes you such a mouth-watering object of desire?
Tian: “Ah. Um. Mouth-watering?”
*growling from Lewell’yn*
Kay: “Oh, fer fook’s sake. Cedric.  Cedric. Look over here, ya saucy bastard—no offense intended tae yer mam and pap—and listen up. He’s bloody beautiful. He can make cardboard taste good wi’ just a spice or two… and ye have eyes, don’t you? Have you ever in your life seen such what did ya say? Oh, yeah, ‘mouth-watering’ lusciousness all wrapped up in a wee little package like that?”
*Kay arches a sleek black brow at Cedric*
Kay: “I didn’t think so. And the red hair, oh Blessed Light… it’s like shagging a bloody unicorn, innit? How many sexy redhead have you had?”
*Tian’s face lights up with a monumental blush again.*

Cedric: Well, I am a sexy redhead., and I've had my share of every shape, size and color.  Except for the height, we could almost be twin brothers.  Are you sure you're not Scottish?

Lewell’yn: “The best part is his heart. Man plaguing well doesn’t know how to hate. He’s too fucking good for all of us.”
*Kay and Cedric both jump at the low, gravelly tone coming from Tian’s far side. Kay mouths the words Holy shite of the Light itself to Cedric, and then speaks.*
Kay: “Lewell’yn? Listen big guy, if you stop seeing in colour, I need you to just leave. Go home. We’re not going to hurt the nice interview man, okay?”
*Lewell’yn grunts. Tian scoots closer to Lewell’yn, a small chuckle escaping his mouth. He pats Lewell’yn’s arm, and then reaches out with his other hand to twine his fingers with Kay’s.*
Tian: “Isn’t he sweet? I’m not too good for them. They’re so handsome, and brave. I hope you find someone as wonderful as my guys… or do you have someone already? I—oh, I’m sorry, Da and Abtiss would be so ashamed… Are you in a relationship? What’s his name? Do you have any kids yet? We’re having a couple pretty soon and isn’t Kay adorable? I mean, look at him over there just about to pop with our baby. Lewell’yn and I couldn’t be prouder!”

Cedric: I keep my love life unencumbered by committed relationships, but there are two lovers who are special to me.  One is my darling Mia and the other is Lord Liu.  No offspring in my future I'm afraid--not in the usual sense.  Who is doing this interview, anyway?
*Cedric leans back in chair… pauses and then, with a meaningful look and a charming smile attempts to steer the interview back onto the appropriate track.*
Cedric: “Tell me a little about yourself—don’t spare any juicy details.”

*A cool voice interjects from the side of the room.*
The “Boss”:  “I’m afraid that’s classified information. He could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
*Cedric laughs nervously.*
Lewell’yn: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Tian: “Caris’yn when did you get here? Come give me a hug!”

Kay: “Plaguing Darkness, that tears it. I hope you’re good at looking small and helpless, Cedric, cause these two are about to gut each other and anyone who gets in the way of their fun times of trying to kill one another may or may not be harmed. Run, man, run. No, on second thought you’d better not run. Just—stay really still and speak in a calm voice, okay. And for the sake of all that’s holy, send someone for a cup of tea will you? My nerves are just shot… best you try to wrap up the interview quickly. No, I’m serious about that bit. Just ask me the questions and I’ll answer as quick as I can.”
Cedric: “Share a little of your fascinating world of the future.  How do you differ from humans?”
Kay: “Shite, you’d have to ask that wouldn’t you… listen I’ll tell you while those two *points at Lewell’yn and Caris’yn* are occupied with proving who has the bigger—I mean who is more Alpha. *rolls eyes* Tian and I are Akanti. The biggest difference would be… you probably think I’m chubby, don’t you? I’m not. I’m pregnant. I know it sounds crazy, but there you have it. Other than that we’re just—”
*breaks off with a moan when Cedric’s assistant enters with a large, steaming mug of Irish Breakfast tea*
Kay: “Oh Blessed Brightness, is that tea? Oh, by all that’s holy, it is. And it smells just like what Mam used to serve. How did you know to get this kind? I’d heard that you were good at this but—I’ll put in a good word for you. Anyone from Nakntiios or Ciarlund you want to interview… if I know them I’ll shove them on the shuttle myself to get them *little bit is constantlygetting himself in some sort of trouble, and the big guy thinks the solution to everything comes at the end of a laser-knife. I mean, really.”



*Cedric’s brows lift towards his hairline slightly. Maintaining his professional aplomb, he continues.* "I had nothing to do with the tea selection.  My beverage of choice is deep red in color.  What are some of the unique challenges that face your species?”

Caris’yn: “Classified.”


Kay: “Oh, bollocks.”

Tian: “Don’t swear, Kay. The baby can hear you, you know.”

Lewell’yn: “Plaguing Hell, are we done yet?”

Tian: “Didn’t you just hear what I said to Kay?”

*Cedric hides a smile behind a hand, making it seem like he is being thoughtful.*
Cedric: “Are you monogamous creatures?  If not, how do you juggle the responsibilities, so to speak?”
Tian: “Of course! There’s just us in this trouple, thank you very much!”

Kay: “Of all the bloody cheek… you’d better be careful there, Cedric, or I’ll let Lewell’yn and Caris’yn both loose on you.”


Cedric: Cheeky is my middle name.

Caris’yn: “What the hell kind of question is that? Damned primitive humans… Do you want me to draw you a diagram?”


Cedric: "I'm not human, thank-you.  I'm a vampire, er, Immortyl that is, and we tend to be pansexual, polyamorous beings.  We won't talk about those sparkling ones--they're in denial."

Lewell’yn: “We mate for life, in pairs or trouples. Humans call trouples three-somes I think, or perhaps triads? Calm down, Tian, love, he didn’t smell cruel. He didn’t mean it to upset you. He’s just curious. And yes, before you even ask, I’m very sure. That’s an entirely different smell.”
*glances scornfully at his boss*

Lewell’yn: “That wasn’t classified. And a simple answer was all the man asked for.” 
*turning his full attention back to Cedric*
“Continue.”

Cedric:  What you smell is a pheromone. Humans find it irresistible.  It works well on other Immortyls as well.  So, tell me, what do you look for in your ideal partners?”
Tian: “Just like Lewell’yn and Kay I guess. They’re pretty much perfect in my opinion.”

Kay: “Honey, I think he wants you to describe what it is about us you find so appealing. He needs details to make the interview interesting to his readers.”

Tian: “Oh, that makes sense. Ah… Well, they need to be really sweet, like Lewell’yn.”
*Kay and Caris’yn both emit choking noises. Cedric merely appears baffled by Tian’s apparent sincerity in calling his frequently (by all reports) homicidal mate “sweet”*
Cedric: “Ooookay. Moving right along. I’ve had my share of tumultuous relationships, but I must admit, I prefer those that present a challenge.  Do you like someone who lets you take the lead, or do you like strong-minded lovers?”
Tian: “Oh, I like my men like I like my coffee. Hot and strong and sweet with a little bite to it.”

Cedric: “I always say I like mine dark and sweet. You guys have coffee?” 


Lewell’yn: “Tian found a record of it in the archives at the Temple of the Light on Soonan, his home planet, and wouldn’t rest (and by that I mean wouldn’t let me rest) until he could taste test some. He’s making something called CaffaMoo for us tonight for dinner. Steak marinated in coffee. Decaf, though, in deference to Kay’s pregnancy.”
*Kay and Caris’yn glance at each other and then at Lewell’yn. Both have one eyebrow cocked upward in a sarcastic manner.*
  Cedric: “What is your idea of the perfect evening out?”
Tian: “Oh, any clear night in late spring. The mockou trees are in bloom then, and we can have a picnic in the courtyard of the castle, and all I’ll need is a light sweater.
*Lewell’yn and Kay both hide smiles behind their hands. Caris’yn snorts.*
Cedric: Ah, supposing the plan is to stay in.  All great lovers have their trade secrets.  How you create the perfect romantic atmosphere?”
Tian: “Oooh, good question. I create romance in my kitchen. If I want to have a perfect romantic evening with my consorts I just cook their favorite dishes up, and then serve them in the main courses in the formal dining room, but save the dessert to serve in our quarters because I can serve it naked there.”
Cedric: “Sounds like my favorite kind of evening. Anything else you’d like to share?”
Tian: “Oh, yes! First of all, thank you so much for having us here. It’s been fun. And don’t mind Lewell’yn. He’s just grouchy because I didn’t bake biscuits for him this morning. He’ll get over it. I have some links to where you earthlings can get copies of our story… how we met, and where we think we’re going in the future and that sort of stuff!”




Blurb: A spy posing as an assassin finds himself riding the ragged edge of sanity during a frantic search for fabled lost colonists who fled his world steps ahead of a devastating plague. They hold the key to saving his species from extinction.Living in deep cover onboard a space frigate full of slave-running pirates would be difficult enough with reliable intel and some hope of back-up...even if he weren’t slowly losing his ability to separate truth from fiction and dealing with the added complications of a fiercely passionate healer, and an innocently sexy chef. The bombs are in place, detonators set, and chrono ticking. Caught between ruthless pirates and his spiraling madness can Lewell'yn find a way to become Tian's hero?   
Excerpt:A fluke.
An accident of birth.
A freaking genetic anomaly.
A filthy, undersized fucking freak of nature, oh yeah, that description fit Lewell'yn right down to the soles of his feet. His size and unique genetic adaptations added up neatly to comprise the exact reasons the Boss—plaguing silver-eyed bastard—had picked him for this lousy assignment.Seriously, the Boss's parents must never have gotten betrothed legally. The man couldn't possibly be such a damned wanker without having official status as a bastard somewhere. The odds of such virulent, misbegotten actions—tricking a supposed protégé into taking a complete shite assignment, say, just for example—happening by accident were astronomically low. Conversely, those same actions carried out by a completely unredeemable, bona-fide, carrying-the-papers-to-prove-it bastard, especially one whose alterations make him an extraordinarily manipulative fuck… well, pretty fucking easy to see which odds the house would take.Lewell'yn bit back a gravelly laugh. He shivered, a tingling sensation running over the surface of his skin. Thinking of the Boss sucked. The man meddled, poked, and had an eerie way of knowing precisely what Lewell'yn meant. All the time, in every situation, the git tuned in to the minutest alteration in Lewell'yn's body language, even when Lewell'yn didn't want him to. Shite, especially when Lewell'yn didn't want him to.A sound in the hallway ahead echoed faintly along the pitted walls. Lewell'yn's ears drank in the barely perceptible noise. He brought his head up. His nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath.Two engineering apprentices headed his way. Shite. If they spotted him here, he'd have to dispose of them as well. Plaguing fucking Darkness, nothing ever ran smoothly or simply.Another set of boots clanked into the cross-hallway, farther away, and a voice called out."Henders, Vittakine, where in Darkest Hell do you think you're going? Your shifts don't end for another hour."The two men spoke at the same time."Varna, we'll miss chow.""We'll bring our grub back to finish out our shift, Senior-Tech."A grunt echoed down the hall. Lewell'yn stepped into the intersection of the two hallways, his eyes locking with Varna's. The big guard/engineer-tech grunted again, baring his teeth at the two apprentices."Get your asses back in here. Jakobs is bringing chow to you."His eyes flickered back up, looking over the shoulders of his men. Lewell'yn flashed Varna a tight smile, winking just before the bulk of the body on his shoulder hid Varna from view.Close.Too close.Lewell'yn could still smell the hot blood beating just under their skins. He slowed, the siren song calling him. Then Varna's careful reek wafted towards him, and Lewell'yn shuddered.Entirely too fucking close.Lewell'yn shrugged one shoulder. The damn Boss enjoyed fucking with him and clearly found amusement in giving him a mission that called his hungers to the surface. The manipulative bastard knew Lewell'yn couldn't turn down a request to find the colonists the Naknti lost contact with during the Great Plague. Lewell'yn ground his teeth together. The Boss—shite, he probably had Lewell'yn altered in the womb so he felt compelled to find them.A cold sweat broke across Lewell'yn's brow. The Boss's gleaming silver eyes bore into him across all the light years between them, burning metal laid across his skin.Yeah.So here Lewell'yn was, hauling yet another sloppy body through the corridors of this lumbering behemoth of a spaceship and wondering what in plaguing hell the crafty mixed race fucker he called Boss had planned. Sending Lewell'yn out here with barely a hint of where he might find the only pure blood Naknti still capable of breeding seemed sloppy, and simply not like the Boss. Sticking Lewell'yn here to play at being a mercenary for the universe's worst ever excuse for a space captain; definitely an action the Boss would find funny.Lewell'yn ground his teeth a little harder. Finding the missing Naknti immigrants would be quite a coup. Especially if he could manage to keep his other, darker needs at bay. As if he'd conjured it, a vision rose in front of him, fountains of blood, and him bathing joyfully in them.Beautiful.He bit his tongue, sucking blood from the wound hungrily. He didn't mind a bit of gore.Thoughts of bathing in the right kind of body fluids made his eyes gleam fever bright.The ship gave a slow, lazy roll. Lewell'yn tightened his grip on the noxious heap on his shoulder. The glow in his eyes intensified. The edge of his upper lip curled, and a sub-vocal growl rumbled in his chest."And here I thought finding those bloody colonists worth anything."He tipped his head down, looking up through the fringes of his hair to watch the corridor ahead. A drip of liquid slid from the body he carried, rolling down the back of his ship-suit, warm and thick.Covered again in… ah, the substances didn't bear thinking of. Nothing was worth this.Lewell'yn focused his thoughts. He had a job to do. He had a body to stash, a megalomaniac to appease, and his cover to keep intact.His vision flickered black and white. Shaking out the hand holding the body stationary on his shoulder while he stabilised the inert lump with his other forearm, Lewell'yn ran through his mental checklist. He was an assassin. Or maybe he was really a pirate? No, no, he'd re-read the logs he kept just that morning. He was a spy. His plaguing spymaster boss was watching to make sure he didn't fuck this up. Shite. He'd been in deep cover a long time.His vision flickered; colours dancing wildly along the ship's scarred and pitted walls. The sound of another crewmember's footfalls echoed in the next cross-corridor ahead, then paused before retreating into the distance. Cold shivers crawled along the small of Lewell'yn's back. He clenched the muscles there, eyes locked on the access panel at the far end of this corridor.He bit his lip lightly, then the inside of his cheek, hard and fast. Blood flowed into his mouth once more, sweet and coppery. He could focus on the taste.Good to concentrate on things not slipping steadily away from him."I told them to have the corridors clear."Seriously, he couldn't get caught hiding this body. Calling the man in charge of this rusting bucket of bolts captain burned Lewell'yn's tongue worse than pouring salt on the open wound in his mouth would. Still, Captain Arameelne held the power here. The lump of flesh weighing down Lewell'yn's shoulder? This trick had decidedly not come on the list the captain assigned Lewell'yn to perform. So, unless he wanted to take a short walk out a set of airlock doors, Lewell'yn needed to exercise discretion with his unsanctioned kill.Arameelne really was an obstreperous git.Lewell'yn let the vision of bathing in the captain's blood play out on one track in his brain as he got back to the business at hand. Hoisting the lax body more securely up on his shoulder, Lewell'yn snorted. His lips curled into a mocking grin.He recalled the naïvety with which he'd gone into the Naknti Intelligence Service. He'd actually thought the N.I.S. job glamorous. He'd dreamed of being up to his neck in pretty little guys and girls from all over the galaxy.What sort of gullible prat believes those advert vids the Naknti Intelligence Service puts out?Right, cow-eyed farm boys did. Lewell'yn didn't like to consider himself so naïve.Oh, but he had thought those exact things. Once upon a time, he'd thought he'd climb the ranks of the N.I.S. in a perfectly pressed tuxedo.The thought died a quick death with his first trip on this piece of space junk. He spent days surrounded by the unwashed brutes who made up the pirate ship's crew. The time passed away from their stinking presence? Every moment crawled as he endured riding herd on illiterate slaves whose unwashed bodies most often reeked of stale sweat and fear. Terror and a lack of bathing facilities combined to make a powerful stench. At least this trip he'd had a brief reprieve, assigned as the captain's pet assassin. Living on this wreck, bowing to the dictates of a petty tyrant like Arameelne wasn't the life he'd imagined as an N.I.S. operative.Hah.In-between hiding stinking bodies from his fellow crewmembers, Lewell'yn fought his growing delight in casting soul-shattering fear into the hearts of poor fuckers whose only crime was being easy to kidnap. Getting rid of all the waste, inside and out, caused the muscles in the back of his neck to tie themselves into knots. Big fucking knots.The only things he called a good time anymore centred around imagining the incredibly painful, lingering near deaths he could inflict on the Boss, because when the plague-ridden, unnatural fuck tricked him into taking this assignment, the silver-eyed bastard knew precisely how Lewell'yn felt about body waste.The fucker still sent him here where they always ended up puking and crying and shitting themselves before Lewell'yn got them—processed. The one draped over Lewell'yn's shoulder like a hundred kilos of fusty deadweight pissed out enough fluids to float a whole damned frigate. The deluge came right at the end of their assignation, right when Lewell'yn had started to hope he might get away clean this time.The tempting idea of just throwing the stinking body out the nearest airlock flitted through Lewell'yn's mind, along with every reason he couldn't. Being watched from afar was not the least of these. Some days Lewell'yn felt the Boss's burning pewter gaze looking right into his mind, reading his every thought, and knowing every desire of his heart. Lewell'yn's hatred of the man raged impossibly higher.Lewell'yn took another step forwards, the noisome body dragging at his shoulders. He cast a measuring glance down the corridor. The entrance to his special storage came soon. He'd found the closets on this level very handy, especially with a few judicious alterations.This one housed a—Lewell'yn let his gaze roam over the filthy walls—rarely used multipurpose cleaner. No one had noticed when the room shrank to the current size. Hell, the fuckers hadn't even ventured down to this floor in the past four cycles—roughly a whole month back on Nakntiios. Getting the work done quietly posed no problem either.Truly amazing what a teensy bit of sexual exploitation combined with a hefty bribe could get one—or several—of the fellows down in engineering to accomplish. Ensuring their silence when they finished the alterations? Easy. The proximity of this storage to the waste disposal chutes ensured their discretion. As for culpability and alibis… Lewell'yn had vid tape proving him nowhere near those particular chutes when the poor unfortunate fellows from engineering had fallen down them.The gits practically begged him for a deadly tango with every foul deed enacted on their subordinates. Lewell'yn had the real tape of what the tosser in charge and his select followers got up to with their unwilling young apprentices…So, to make a long story short, Lewell'yn had high-quality tamper-proof vid tape proving him innocent of any wrongdoing there. The equipment to produce said tape delighted him as the best and most ironic part of the set up they'd provided him.Today however, the acoustics created by a hard floor to dump yet another disgusting body on brought Lewell'yn the most pleasure. The man made a satisfying, painful-sounding thud when he hit the deck. Ah, really, the little touches made everything worthwhile.Normally Lewell'yn would imagine his N.I.S. boss's body making the distinctive thudding noise. After the debacle yesterday, a cluster-fuck of cosmic proportions surely listed as the most recent update to the definition of FUBAR—fucked up beyond all recognition—in the galactic database of definitions, imaging the captain's body making the noise made getting through today bearable.Seriously.Who knew this mission, and Lewell'yn's life, could get more fucked up? Lewell'yn turned his head, his feral gaze scanning the empty air around him for agreement. Show of hands please…Killing one of the captain's favoured bed partners yesterday in the mess hall hadn't been part of the plan. The second kill had occurred in addition to the man Lewell'yn was sent by Arameelne to put down. The kill hadn't been part of Lewell'yn's N.I.S. boss's plans either. Offing the second man—Arameelne's favourite fuck-toy—just pissed the pirate captain off. Lewell'yn didn't know what the Boss had to say about this particular cluster-fuck, and didn't want to any sooner than necessary. None of those things mattered though, not in comparison to the scariest bit.Ending the stupid git's life hadn't even occurred to Lewell'yn. A knee-jerk reaction to the man putting his hands on Lewell'yn created the incident. Except, Lewell'yn didn't have knee-jerk reactions. And just when did killing get so damned easy? So… necessary? He hadn't even given slitting the man's throat more than a cursory thought.Before this mission, he used to think such things through. Never reluctant to engage in a little wet-work if the job required, but still, never eager. Now he paid more attention to the degree of air pressure on his skin than to decisions of who should live or die. Lewell'yn started at the thought, the body on his shoulder slipping a fraction before he adjusted. He licked his lips. A faint hint of warm iron lingered on them. Lewell'yn thought back. When had he decided to kill the man? Had he decided to do so? The one on his shoulder—conscious decision—the captain's lover though… had he made a decision there?One second they'd baited each other with words, the next the captain's favourite hit the floor, his carotid sliced cleanly through. Lewell'yn turned the incident around and around in his mind. The sequence of events didn't add up. No fucking gain for him. The pirate leader would have killed anyone else—good thing the git still found him useful. Lewell'yn didn't fancy testing the breathability on the other side of any of the airlocks. He still breathed solely because he had the dubious distinction of being the one man on the ship Captain Arameelne feared. Well, Arameelne also wanted to tie him up and fuck him till he begged for mercy. Which he made a point of telling Lewell'yn as often as possible.Licentious prick.Lewell'yn got reassigned to the team of caretakers in charge of a group of slaves being shipped to Kyrth. Playing glorified nursemaid for a bunch of anxious slaves was a far cry from having no regular duties other than killing on command. The duty change definitely hampered his ability to complete his N.I.S. mission. Worse yet, though Lewell'yn had a basic knowledge of the Kyrth slaves and what the contract for their delivery entailed, he had no detailed intel on them. Worst of all, he had no time to gather information. Hence the intense pique at his new assignment.Fuck and double fuck.The Kyrth slaves, all two hundred sixty of them, were held in a separate area per the stipulations of the Captain's contract with the sentient predators. The Kyrth had taboos against hunting pregnant game. They always stipulated their prey remain untouched during transport. Lewell'yn had heard rumours about what the Kyrth did to slavers who failed to honour any part of their contract.Really—the captain shoulda thought his revenge out a bit.Lewell'yn? Not the lad to inconvenience. Arameelne made a grave mistake by forcing Lewell'yn to relocate his base of operations on the ship. Lewell'yn knew just how to extract payment for his troubles. He had a lovely win/win/lose scenario all worked out in his mind. Hell, he'd even tweaked his plan to fit with his real purpose for being on this ship. He'd win the slaves—who might just be the lost settlers he was looking for—they would win a reprieve from the Kyrth, and the captain would lose—everything.Heh.Served the fucking wanker right, getting caught in his own sticky web.Shipping those poor men halfway across the galaxy to be prey in the Kyrthian's annual blood sport rituals was barbaric. If you added in the bloody unfair bit about doing so without allowing them a decent screw… well. Downright criminal if you asked Lewell'yn.Thus, and he surely wasn't the only one to think this way, right and proper to alleviate their suffering along the way. A sound somewhere between a rough cough and a rusty chuckle escaped Lewell'yn's throat. He could even work out a way to swap the "pure" slaves with some of his worthless fellow crewmembers. Lovely thought—how interesting to watch Captain Arameelne try to explain to the Kyrth why their prey reeked of sex. He'd have to set up a delayed relay feed to some monitoring equipment so he could see the action unfold.Lewell'yn stored his… package… then checked his chronometer. He had to arrive at his new duty location soon. Lewell'yn opted for a sol-ray shower. He liked the old-fashioned water showers better because the feeling of liquid sliding over his skin helped to bring colours back into the world, helped slow the strobe flashes his sight degenerated into.He didn't have time today. Sol-ray showers were quick. An expedient clean-up meant fewer awkward questions. Showing up covered in gore or late would raise the likelihood of some wise-ass making a comment on his new status. He bit his cheek again. Let the taste of hot iron soothe him.Well. Assassin to babysitter—rather a step down.He could suck up the bitter taste of his demotion, and deal with the actual change. He understood the temptation to needle over the loss of status. Someone having the nerve to comment about lax discipline or status change to his face? Unacceptable.He wasn't scheduled to kill anyone else for the Captain today. His N.I.S. mission didn't require any 'disappearances' for several more days. Lewell'yn thought a full day free of death a good thing. He rolled his stiff shoulders, blowing out a breath as he sought to loosen the taut muscles around his mouth and in his neck. A shadow of a smile crept to one corner of his mouth. Twenty-some hours where he wasn't lost in the black and white world of death sounded restful. Damn good in fact. A stray thought flitted through his mind. The sparkle in his eyes morphed into a silvery flare.Unless by some plague-dark twist of an unkind fate Captain Arameelne teamed him with Harvitt.Nah.The Captain never struck Lewell'yn as completely stupid. He knew how Lewell'yn felt about Harvitt, the sorry sack of shit. He'd hated the fucker since the first time he saw him, singling out one of the youngest slaves, taunting the sorry little git like a meeka-cat with its prey. Harvitt claimed boredom that day. The fucker actually said he needed entertaining.Moronic fuck. As if any real entertainment value existed in scaring the timid ones.Lewell'yn shook himself.He meant frightening them wasn't right.Sure.He meant—Lewell'yn rounded the last corner and stopped abruptly at the doors leading to the Kyrth slaves' holding area. Through the clear-view panels he could see the guard waiting for relief. The edges of his vision greyed. He knew today had to be Firstday somewhere; Firstday in the First month of what was surely the First fucking year of a long stint in the Darkness. Lewell'yn checked his chrono. Not even 0700 bells and already shaping up as one hell of a day.Harvitt. The Light must hate him. He was paired with Harvitt.Lewell'yn felt his jaw tighten a little on the left side. He tucked his chin in just slightly, forcing the joint back into alignment. He'd learned the little trick the last time he'd seen the only decent medic the ship possessed.Kay. Such a lovely thing, all sighs and more please and—ah, he wanted to visit sickbay again soon. No. Shite. Lewell'yn shook his head sharply. The idea stayed lodged firmly in his mind. He couldn't. Spending time around Kay wasn't safe. Damnit.Lewell'yn tucked his chin again. The instant release of tension in his neck eased the hot blackness behind his eyes, slowed the bleeding-out of colour. He forced a slow even breath, and thought about counting to ten. Glancing again at Harvitt, he reconsidered, and adjusted the number upward by ninety.Mix a moronic fuck with an obstreperous git and you had Harvitt. Expose Lewell'yn to Harvitt for longer than two minutes and you had a homicidally irritated assassin.Spy.Oh, what-fucking-ever.Keeping a lid on his desire to kill Harvitt took every bit of self-control Lewell'yn possessed. The captain called down to tell Harvitt to stay an extra two hours and "familiarise" Lewell'yn with procedures for dealing with these slaves. Harvitt took great delight in telling Lewell'yn what to do.The rank bastard abso-fucking-lutely ate the task up.It was never wise to let a predator, nor even a rank scavenger like Harvitt, sense weakness of any sort. The scent of weakness only made them hungry for blood. For the rest of the time Harvitt 'tutored' him, Lewell'yn kept his attention centred on the sodding bottom-feeder showing him the ropes of his new assignment. Lewell'yn made careful note of what he said. More importantly, he made note of what Harvitt didn't say about the care and feeding of their… charges. After two damned hours, Harvitt finally took his putrid leave.Lewell'yn celebrated by unclenching his jaw.As Harvitt left, Lewell'yn spotted a tiny man with long, gleaming auburn hair and thick-lashed spring-leaf green eyes. The little beauty stepped into the holding area, and Lewell'yn's chest tightened up. He immediately began cataloguing potentially deadly threats in the area.Lewell'yn wondered how the man had managed to keep his pretty hair looking so clean. Shaking his head, he dismissed the delicious looking man as non-threatening.Shite.Lying to himself in the midst of this arsed-up mission? About as deadly a mistake as showing Harvitt weakness, both of which the small slave had incited.All Lewell'yn could think of was how much he wanted to strip the sexy little fucker bare, lick every delicious bit of skin revealed, and then sink balls deep into the man's ridiculously pert ass. Lewell'yn shook his head and refused to give any more weight to the matter. He chalked his obsession up to a deep need for sleep.Lewell'yn struggled to mask his response to the man. Even with all his training the task proved nearly impossible. Just wondering about the petite red head felt better than any of the actual fucks he'd had in the last three years…well, excepting the delicious medic Kayron. They both jolted like a bolt of electricity shot straight through Lewell'yn, burning his senses to ash.The suddenly electrified feeling pulled Lewell'yn towards the slave. With his rich red hair shot through with streaks of blond and his sun-kissed skin, the man looked as though he might smell of peaches. Lewell'yn loved peaches, the way their flesh felt firm to his teeth, the way the fine hair on them tickled against his lips and tongue.Peaches became Lewell'yn's absolute favourite fruit as soon as he realised they came packaged in such a splendidly wrapped for-adults-only form. Lewell'yn's mouth started to water, anticipation and imagination combining in his still clenching gut as his eyes roamed his brand-new favourite treat. He moved with unhurried, lethal grace towards the slave. He caught a whiff of the man's scent, a hint of musk, a whisper of sweetness tied together with vibrant warmth.Sweet Light, the man even smelled like peaches.Lewell'yn found the closer he moved towards the little slave, the more his mind cleared of the grey pre-killing fog Harvitt's earlier presence had induced. Plaguing Darkness… Lewell'yn needed to get at least five hours of fucking sleep today. The world seemed made of melting wax.Lewell'yn checked to see if the darkness stalking him were noticeable to anyone else. A quick glance around showed it wasn't. He marvelled at how the man's scent had brought the colour back so quickly. Lewell'yn turned his attention to watching the intriguing, sweetly musky smelling man, and noted his quarry watched him as well.Brilliant.This cat and mouse game ranked as the best bit of fun he'd had in at least—the last two minutes. Amusingly, the man attempted to observe Lewell'yn without bringing scrutiny upon himself.Heh.As if the sweet little thing could go unnoticed… not likely, not even in a room full of blind men. Not even a completely sightless man would miss the fine curve at the top of his surprisingly long legs.Positively aerodynamic.Mmm, what Lewell'yn wouldn't give for a taste of the petite man comprised a damn short list. Hmm. The idea had merit. Sneaking about seducing the man would keep Lewell'yn's 'detection avoidance' skills sharp and gather more information at the same time. Lewell'yn smiled. He loved having work he truly enjoyed.He'd have to see if the little peach one tasted as sweet as he looked.Letting more of his attention be drawn by the way the auburn haired man attempted to hide brought relief to Lewell'yn. The game entertained enough to offset the assassin's exhaustion.By far the smallest in the group, Lewell'yn's target stood shorter than the next tallest man by at least half a head. Lewell'yn quelled a smile as he tracked the man by listening for whispered questions coming from the little hole in the centre of the crowd of slaves.Lewell'yn caught himself about to laugh out loud. How long since he'd actually laughed out loud? Too fucking long if he couldn't remember the last time.The little man darted green-eyed glances at him every few minutes, peeking up from under a thick screen of lashes. Though Lewell'yn pretended not to notice, every single glance sent hot pulses of electricity rushing through his groin. Oh yes, he had noticed. He had noted earlier, with far less amusement, how Harvitt seemed interested in the petite beauty as well. Any interest Harvitt had in the little man spelled danger. Just before Harvitt left, Lewell'yn had felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise. He caught himself in the midst of remembering the moment, baring his teeth at the now absent Harvitt, a subvocal growl rolling up from his chest to scratch at the inside of his throat.If only the worthless fuck gave him half an excuse.
****Buy Links:At Silver Publishing: https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/products_id/726At AllRomanceEbooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-tian039shero-769647-143.htmlAt Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tians-hero-cherie-noel/1109811822?ean=2940014175401

You can find Cherie Noel, author of Tian’s Hero,  rambling and carrying on nearly every day over at the Writing Cave: http://talesfromthewritingcave.blogspot.com/

A very big thanks to my guests and their authoress, Cherie Noel, for letting them out to play with me! Don't forget to leave a comment to be entered in a drawing to win a copy of my story, My Fearful Symmetry.


Until next time, my darlings!


Love and Dark Kisses,


Cedric MacKinnon


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Today, I welcome Tian from Tian's Hero by Cherie Noel. &n...

Today, I welcome Tian from Tian's Hero by Cherie Noel.  He appears to have brought a few friends.  This should be fun.  I'm always up for a group effort, as you know.  


Contest: You can enter to win an e-copy of my story, My Fearful Symmetry, by leaving a comment for our guest at the end of the post. Please leave a contact email.  Winner will be chosen by random drawing. Deadline 4/30/12 at 11:59 p.m. EST.



Welcome to Sexy Saturday with Cedric!  Hmm...it seems we have rather a crowd here today, Tian.  I do hope you’ll share a few spicy tidbits, my darlings.  Settle into my hot seat of love.  Don’t worry--I never bite unless invited. Please introduce yourself and your friends to the readers.
*Tian smiles, cheeks pinking just a little as he waves hello*
Tian: “Hi. My name’s Tian. This is Kay, my consort—oooh, his name is actually Kayron. I just call him Kay, ‘cause it’s shorter and Kayron can really be a mouthful and—”
*Tian breaks off with a squeak, face flaming bright red and both hand covering his eyes*
Kay: “Oh, fer the love of—Tian, love, don’t forget the pastries you brought.”
*The curly haired man seated to Tian’s left pipes up, his smooth tones rich with the brogue common to all Ciarlund natives. Tian peeks out between two fingers of one hand, his soft green eyes bright with the light of embarrassment. He pokes the pudgy, dark and curly haired man in the side.*
Tian:“You get them.”
*A low growl sounds from Tian’s other side.*
Lewell’yn: “I’m Lewell’yn. Take the fucking muffins and bloody well say thanks.”
*a decorative wickerwork basket piled high with assorted muffins and pastries is shoved into Cedric’s hands by a tall, darkly menacing man with the oddest silver eyes*

Cedric: Uh...thanks.  These are lovely. I've received many gifts and tributes, but never in pastry.  
~Lewell’yn leans close and whispers~

Lewell’yn: “If you make him cry I’ll come back later and kill you. No offense, and I’ll do you quick… I just can’t take anymore bloody tears. He’s so fucking hormonal right now. That’s not a joke. Kay says sometimes—”
*Kay jumps out of his seat, grabs Lewell’yn’s massive arm and yanks on it.*
Kay: “Sit down, Lewell’yn. And stop threatening people. You’re going to make Tian look bad. None of the other consorts on Nakntiios run around threatening the nice media people interviewing their Counts and Earls and… well, they just don’t.”

Cedric: Never fear love, I'm an accomplished swordsman.  I can handle myself.
*Lewell’yn grunts, casts one more menacing glare at Cedric and then allows Kay to herd him back to his seat*

*Sitting back down, Kay smiles brightly at Cedric.*

Kay: “Right then, where were we?”
Cedric: Tian, why don’t you share a little about your vital statistics?  What makes you such a mouth-watering object of desire?
Tian: “Ah. Um. Mouth-watering?”
*growling from Lewell’yn*
Kay: “Oh, fer fook’s sake. Cedric.  Cedric. Look over here, ya saucy bastard—no offense intended tae yer mam and pap—and listen up. He’s bloody beautiful. He can make cardboard taste good wi’ just a spice or two… and ye have eyes, don’t you? Have you ever in your life seen such what did ya say? Oh, yeah, ‘mouth-watering’ lusciousness all wrapped up in a wee little package like that?”
*Kay arches a sleek black brow at Cedric*
Kay: “I didn’t think so. And the red hair, oh Blessed Light… it’s like shagging a bloody unicorn, innit? How many sexy redhead have you had?”
*Tian’s face lights up with a monumental blush again.*

Cedric: Well, I am a sexy redhead., and I've had my share of every shape, size and color.  Except for the height, we could almost be twin brothers.  Are you sure you're not Scottish?

Lewell’yn: “The best part is his heart. Man plaguing well doesn’t know how to hate. He’s too fucking good for all of us.”
*Kay and Cedric both jump at the low, gravelly tone coming from Tian’s far side. Kay mouths the words Holy shite of the Light itself to Cedric, and then speaks.*
Kay: “Lewell’yn? Listen big guy, if you stop seeing in colour, I need you to just leave. Go home. We’re not going to hurt the nice interview man, okay?”
*Lewell’yn grunts. Tian scoots closer to Lewell’yn, a small chuckle escaping his mouth. He pats Lewell’yn’s arm, and then reaches out with his other hand to twine his fingers with Kay’s.*
Tian: “Isn’t he sweet? I’m not too good for them. They’re so handsome, and brave. I hope you find someone as wonderful as my guys… or do you have someone already? I—oh, I’m sorry, Da and Abtiss would be so ashamed… Are you in a relationship? What’s his name? Do you have any kids yet? We’re having a couple pretty soon and isn’t Kay adorable? I mean, look at him over there just about to pop with our baby. Lewell’yn and I couldn’t be prouder!”

Cedric: I keep my love life unencumbered by committed relationships, but there are two lovers who are special to me.  One is my darling Mia and the other is Lord Liu.  No offspring in my future I'm afraid--not in the usual sense.  Who is doing this interview, anyway?
*Cedric leans back in chair… pauses and then, with a meaningful look and a charming smile attempts to steer the interview back onto the appropriate track.*
Cedric: “Tell me a little about yourself—don’t spare any juicy details.”

*A cool voice interjects from the side of the room.*
The “Boss”:  “I’m afraid that’s classified information. He could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
*Cedric laughs nervously.*
Lewell’yn: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Tian: “Caris’yn when did you get here? Come give me a hug!”

Kay: “Plaguing Darkness, that tears it. I hope you’re good at looking small and helpless, Cedric, cause these two are about to gut each other and anyone who gets in the way of their fun times of trying to kill one another may or may not be harmed. Run, man, run. No, on second thought you’d better not run. Just—stay really still and speak in a calm voice, okay. And for the sake of all that’s holy, send someone for a cup of tea will you? My nerves are just shot… best you try to wrap up the interview quickly. No, I’m serious about that bit. Just ask me the questions and I’ll answer as quick as I can.”
Cedric: “Share a little of your fascinating world of the future.  How do you differ from humans?”
Kay: “Shite, you’d have to ask that wouldn’t you… listen I’ll tell you while those two *points at Lewell’yn and Caris’yn* are occupied with proving who has the bigger—I mean who is more Alpha. *rolls eyes* Tian and I are Akanti. The biggest difference would be… you probably think I’m chubby, don’t you? I’m not. I’m pregnant. I know it sounds crazy, but there you have it. Other than that we’re just—”
*breaks off with a moan when Cedric’s assistant enters with a large, steaming mug of Irish Breakfast tea*
Kay: “Oh Blessed Brightness, is that tea? Oh, by all that’s holy, it is. And it smells just like what Mam used to serve. How did you know to get this kind? I’d heard that you were good at this but—I’ll put in a good word for you. Anyone from Nakntiios or Ciarlund you want to interview… if I know them I’ll shove them on the shuttle myself to get them *little bit is constantlygetting himself in some sort of trouble, and the big guy thinks the solution to everything comes at the end of a laser-knife. I mean, really.”



*Cedric’s brows lift towards his hairline slightly. Maintaining his professional aplomb, he continues.* "I had nothing to do with the tea selection.  My beverage of choice is deep red in color.  What are some of the unique challenges that face your species?”

Caris’yn: “Classified.”


Kay: “Oh, bollocks.”

Tian: “Don’t swear, Kay. The baby can hear you, you know.”

Lewell’yn: “Plaguing Hell, are we done yet?”

Tian: “Didn’t you just hear what I said to Kay?”

*Cedric hides a smile behind a hand, making it seem like he is being thoughtful.*
Cedric: “Are you monogamous creatures?  If not, how do you juggle the responsibilities, so to speak?”
Tian: “Of course! There’s just us in this trouple, thank you very much!”

Kay: “Of all the bloody cheek… you’d better be careful there, Cedric, or I’ll let Lewell’yn and Caris’yn both loose on you.”


Cedric: Chekky is my middle name.

Caris’yn: “What the hell kind of question is that? Damned primitive humans… Do you want me to draw you a diagram?”


Cedric: "I'm not human, thank-you.  I'm a vampire, er, Immortyl that is, and we tend to be pansexual, polyamorous beings.  We won't talk about those sparkling ones--they're in denial."

Lewell’yn: “We mate for life, in pairs or trouples. Humans call trouples three-somes I think, or perhaps triads? Calm down, Tian, love, he didn’t smell cruel. He didn’t mean it to upset you. He’s just curious. And yes, before you even ask, I’m very sure. That’s an entirely different smell.”
*glances scornfully at his boss*

Lewell’yn: “That wasn’t classified. And a simple answer was all the man asked for.” 
*turning his full attention back to Cedric*
“Continue.”

Cedric:  What you smell is a pheromone. Humans find it irresistible.  It works well on other Immortyls as well.  So, tell me, what do you look for in your ideal partners?”
Tian: “Just like Lewell’yn and Kay I guess. They’re pretty much perfect in my opinion.”

Kay: “Honey, I think he wants you to describe what it is about us you find so appealing. He needs details to make the interview interesting to his readers.”

Tian: “Oh, that makes sense. Ah… Well, they need to be really sweet, like Lewell’yn.”
*Kay and Caris’yn both emit choking noises. Cedric merely appears baffled by Tian’s apparent sincerity in calling his frequently (by all reports) homicidal mate “sweet”*
Cedric: “Ooookay. Moving right along. I’ve had my share of tumultuous relationships, but I must admit, I prefer those that present a challenge.  Do you like someone who lets you take the lead, or do you like strong-minded lovers?”
Tian: “Oh, I like my men like I like my coffee. Hot and strong and sweet with a little bite to it.”

Cedric: “I always say I like mine dark and sweet. You guys have coffee?” 


Lewell’yn: “Tian found a record of it in the archives at the Temple of the Light on Soonan, his home planet, and wouldn’t rest (and by that I mean wouldn’t let me rest) until he could taste test some. He’s making something called CaffaMoo for us tonight for dinner. Steak marinated in coffee. Decaf, though, in deference to Kay’s pregnancy.”
*Kay and Caris’yn glance at each other and then at Lewell’yn. Both have one eyebrow cocked upward in a sarcastic manner.*
  Cedric: “What is your idea of the perfect evening out?”
Tian: “Oh, any clear night in late spring. The mockou trees are in bloom then, and we can have a picnic in the courtyard of the castle, and all I’ll need is a light sweater.
*Lewell’yn and Kay both hide smiles behind their hands. Caris’yn snorts.*
Cedric: Ah, supposing the plan is to stay in.  All great lovers have their trade secrets.  How you create the perfect romantic atmosphere?”
Tian: “Oooh, good question. I create romance in my kitchen. If I want to have a perfect romantic evening with my consorts I just cook their favorite dishes up, and then serve them in the main courses in the formal dining room, but save the dessert to serve in our quarters because I can serve it naked there.”
Cedric: “Sounds like my favorite kind of evening. Anything else you’d like to share?”
Tian: “Oh, yes! First of all, thank you so much for having us here. It’s been fun. And don’t mind Lewell’yn. He’s just grouchy because I didn’t bake biscuits for him this morning. He’ll get over it. I have some links to where you earthlings can get copies of our story… how we met, and where we think we’re going in the future and that sort of stuff!”




Blurb: A spy posing as an assassin finds himself riding the ragged edge of sanity during a frantic search for fabled lost colonists who fled his world steps ahead of a devastating plague. They hold the key to saving his species from extinction.Living in deep cover onboard a space frigate full of slave-running pirates would be difficult enough with reliable intel and some hope of back-up...even if he weren’t slowly losing his ability to separate truth from fiction and dealing with the added complications of a fiercely passionate healer, and an innocently sexy chef. The bombs are in place, detonators set, and chrono ticking. Caught between ruthless pirates and his spiraling madness can Lewell'yn find a way to become Tian's hero?   
Excerpt:A fluke.
An accident of birth.
A freaking genetic anomaly.
A filthy, undersized fucking freak of nature, oh yeah, that description fit Lewell'yn right down to the soles of his feet. His size and unique genetic adaptations added up neatly to comprise the exact reasons the Boss—plaguing silver-eyed bastard—had picked him for this lousy assignment.Seriously, the Boss's parents must never have gotten betrothed legally. The man couldn't possibly be such a damned wanker without having official status as a bastard somewhere. The odds of such virulent, misbegotten actions—tricking a supposed protégé into taking a complete shite assignment, say, just for example—happening by accident were astronomically low. Conversely, those same actions carried out by a completely unredeemable, bona-fide, carrying-the-papers-to-prove-it bastard, especially one whose alterations make him an extraordinarily manipulative fuck… well, pretty fucking easy to see which odds the house would take.Lewell'yn bit back a gravelly laugh. He shivered, a tingling sensation running over the surface of his skin. Thinking of the Boss sucked. The man meddled, poked, and had an eerie way of knowing precisely what Lewell'yn meant. All the time, in every situation, the git tuned in to the minutest alteration in Lewell'yn's body language, even when Lewell'yn didn't want him to. Shite, especially when Lewell'yn didn't want him to.A sound in the hallway ahead echoed faintly along the pitted walls. Lewell'yn's ears drank in the barely perceptible noise. He brought his head up. His nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath.Two engineering apprentices headed his way. Shite. If they spotted him here, he'd have to dispose of them as well. Plaguing fucking Darkness, nothing ever ran smoothly or simply.Another set of boots clanked into the cross-hallway, farther away, and a voice called out."Henders, Vittakine, where in Darkest Hell do you think you're going? Your shifts don't end for another hour."The two men spoke at the same time."Varna, we'll miss chow.""We'll bring our grub back to finish out our shift, Senior-Tech."A grunt echoed down the hall. Lewell'yn stepped into the intersection of the two hallways, his eyes locking with Varna's. The big guard/engineer-tech grunted again, baring his teeth at the two apprentices."Get your asses back in here. Jakobs is bringing chow to you."His eyes flickered back up, looking over the shoulders of his men. Lewell'yn flashed Varna a tight smile, winking just before the bulk of the body on his shoulder hid Varna from view.Close.Too close.Lewell'yn could still smell the hot blood beating just under their skins. He slowed, the siren song calling him. Then Varna's careful reek wafted towards him, and Lewell'yn shuddered.Entirely too fucking close.Lewell'yn shrugged one shoulder. The damn Boss enjoyed fucking with him and clearly found amusement in giving him a mission that called his hungers to the surface. The manipulative bastard knew Lewell'yn couldn't turn down a request to find the colonists the Naknti lost contact with during the Great Plague. Lewell'yn ground his teeth together. The Boss—shite, he probably had Lewell'yn altered in the womb so he felt compelled to find them.A cold sweat broke across Lewell'yn's brow. The Boss's gleaming silver eyes bore into him across all the light years between them, burning metal laid across his skin.Yeah.So here Lewell'yn was, hauling yet another sloppy body through the corridors of this lumbering behemoth of a spaceship and wondering what in plaguing hell the crafty mixed race fucker he called Boss had planned. Sending Lewell'yn out here with barely a hint of where he might find the only pure blood Naknti still capable of breeding seemed sloppy, and simply not like the Boss. Sticking Lewell'yn here to play at being a mercenary for the universe's worst ever excuse for a space captain; definitely an action the Boss would find funny.Lewell'yn ground his teeth a little harder. Finding the missing Naknti immigrants would be quite a coup. Especially if he could manage to keep his other, darker needs at bay. As if he'd conjured it, a vision rose in front of him, fountains of blood, and him bathing joyfully in them.Beautiful.He bit his tongue, sucking blood from the wound hungrily. He didn't mind a bit of gore.Thoughts of bathing in the right kind of body fluids made his eyes gleam fever bright.The ship gave a slow, lazy roll. Lewell'yn tightened his grip on the noxious heap on his shoulder. The glow in his eyes intensified. The edge of his upper lip curled, and a sub-vocal growl rumbled in his chest."And here I thought finding those bloody colonists worth anything."He tipped his head down, looking up through the fringes of his hair to watch the corridor ahead. A drip of liquid slid from the body he carried, rolling down the back of his ship-suit, warm and thick.Covered again in… ah, the substances didn't bear thinking of. Nothing was worth this.Lewell'yn focused his thoughts. He had a job to do. He had a body to stash, a megalomaniac to appease, and his cover to keep intact.His vision flickered black and white. Shaking out the hand holding the body stationary on his shoulder while he stabilised the inert lump with his other forearm, Lewell'yn ran through his mental checklist. He was an assassin. Or maybe he was really a pirate? No, no, he'd re-read the logs he kept just that morning. He was a spy. His plaguing spymaster boss was watching to make sure he didn't fuck this up. Shite. He'd been in deep cover a long time.His vision flickered; colours dancing wildly along the ship's scarred and pitted walls. The sound of another crewmember's footfalls echoed in the next cross-corridor ahead, then paused before retreating into the distance. Cold shivers crawled along the small of Lewell'yn's back. He clenched the muscles there, eyes locked on the access panel at the far end of this corridor.He bit his lip lightly, then the inside of his cheek, hard and fast. Blood flowed into his mouth once more, sweet and coppery. He could focus on the taste.Good to concentrate on things not slipping steadily away from him."I told them to have the corridors clear."Seriously, he couldn't get caught hiding this body. Calling the man in charge of this rusting bucket of bolts captain burned Lewell'yn's tongue worse than pouring salt on the open wound in his mouth would. Still, Captain Arameelne held the power here. The lump of flesh weighing down Lewell'yn's shoulder? This trick had decidedly not come on the list the captain assigned Lewell'yn to perform. So, unless he wanted to take a short walk out a set of airlock doors, Lewell'yn needed to exercise discretion with his unsanctioned kill.Arameelne really was an obstreperous git.Lewell'yn let the vision of bathing in the captain's blood play out on one track in his brain as he got back to the business at hand. Hoisting the lax body more securely up on his shoulder, Lewell'yn snorted. His lips curled into a mocking grin.He recalled the naïvety with which he'd gone into the Naknti Intelligence Service. He'd actually thought the N.I.S. job glamorous. He'd dreamed of being up to his neck in pretty little guys and girls from all over the galaxy.What sort of gullible prat believes those advert vids the Naknti Intelligence Service puts out?Right, cow-eyed farm boys did. Lewell'yn didn't like to consider himself so naïve.Oh, but he had thought those exact things. Once upon a time, he'd thought he'd climb the ranks of the N.I.S. in a perfectly pressed tuxedo.The thought died a quick death with his first trip on this piece of space junk. He spent days surrounded by the unwashed brutes who made up the pirate ship's crew. The time passed away from their stinking presence? Every moment crawled as he endured riding herd on illiterate slaves whose unwashed bodies most often reeked of stale sweat and fear. Terror and a lack of bathing facilities combined to make a powerful stench. At least this trip he'd had a brief reprieve, assigned as the captain's pet assassin. Living on this wreck, bowing to the dictates of a petty tyrant like Arameelne wasn't the life he'd imagined as an N.I.S. operative.Hah.In-between hiding stinking bodies from his fellow crewmembers, Lewell'yn fought his growing delight in casting soul-shattering fear into the hearts of poor fuckers whose only crime was being easy to kidnap. Getting rid of all the waste, inside and out, caused the muscles in the back of his neck to tie themselves into knots. Big fucking knots.The only things he called a good time anymore centred around imagining the incredibly painful, lingering near deaths he could inflict on the Boss, because when the plague-ridden, unnatural fuck tricked him into taking this assignment, the silver-eyed bastard knew precisely how Lewell'yn felt about body waste.The fucker still sent him here where they always ended up puking and crying and shitting themselves before Lewell'yn got them—processed. The one draped over Lewell'yn's shoulder like a hundred kilos of fusty deadweight pissed out enough fluids to float a whole damned frigate. The deluge came right at the end of their assignation, right when Lewell'yn had started to hope he might get away clean this time.The tempting idea of just throwing the stinking body out the nearest airlock flitted through Lewell'yn's mind, along with every reason he couldn't. Being watched from afar was not the least of these. Some days Lewell'yn felt the Boss's burning pewter gaze looking right into his mind, reading his every thought, and knowing every desire of his heart. Lewell'yn's hatred of the man raged impossibly higher.Lewell'yn took another step forwards, the noisome body dragging at his shoulders. He cast a measuring glance down the corridor. The entrance to his special storage came soon. He'd found the closets on this level very handy, especially with a few judicious alterations.This one housed a—Lewell'yn let his gaze roam over the filthy walls—rarely used multipurpose cleaner. No one had noticed when the room shrank to the current size. Hell, the fuckers hadn't even ventured down to this floor in the past four cycles—roughly a whole month back on Nakntiios. Getting the work done quietly posed no problem either.Truly amazing what a teensy bit of sexual exploitation combined with a hefty bribe could get one—or several—of the fellows down in engineering to accomplish. Ensuring their silence when they finished the alterations? Easy. The proximity of this storage to the waste disposal chutes ensured their discretion. As for culpability and alibis… Lewell'yn had vid tape proving him nowhere near those particular chutes when the poor unfortunate fellows from engineering had fallen down them.The gits practically begged him for a deadly tango with every foul deed enacted on their subordinates. Lewell'yn had the real tape of what the tosser in charge and his select followers got up to with their unwilling young apprentices…So, to make a long story short, Lewell'yn had high-quality tamper-proof vid tape proving him innocent of any wrongdoing there. The equipment to produce said tape delighted him as the best and most ironic part of the set up they'd provided him.Today however, the acoustics created by a hard floor to dump yet another disgusting body on brought Lewell'yn the most pleasure. The man made a satisfying, painful-sounding thud when he hit the deck. Ah, really, the little touches made everything worthwhile.Normally Lewell'yn would imagine his N.I.S. boss's body making the distinctive thudding noise. After the debacle yesterday, a cluster-fuck of cosmic proportions surely listed as the most recent update to the definition of FUBAR—fucked up beyond all recognition—in the galactic database of definitions, imaging the captain's body making the noise made getting through today bearable.Seriously.Who knew this mission, and Lewell'yn's life, could get more fucked up? Lewell'yn turned his head, his feral gaze scanning the empty air around him for agreement. Show of hands please…Killing one of the captain's favoured bed partners yesterday in the mess hall hadn't been part of the plan. The second kill had occurred in addition to the man Lewell'yn was sent by Arameelne to put down. The kill hadn't been part of Lewell'yn's N.I.S. boss's plans either. Offing the second man—Arameelne's favourite fuck-toy—just pissed the pirate captain off. Lewell'yn didn't know what the Boss had to say about this particular cluster-fuck, and didn't want to any sooner than necessary. None of those things mattered though, not in comparison to the scariest bit.Ending the stupid git's life hadn't even occurred to Lewell'yn. A knee-jerk reaction to the man putting his hands on Lewell'yn created the incident. Except, Lewell'yn didn't have knee-jerk reactions. And just when did killing get so damned easy? So… necessary? He hadn't even given slitting the man's throat more than a cursory thought.Before this mission, he used to think such things through. Never reluctant to engage in a little wet-work if the job required, but still, never eager. Now he paid more attention to the degree of air pressure on his skin than to decisions of who should live or die. Lewell'yn started at the thought, the body on his shoulder slipping a fraction before he adjusted. He licked his lips. A faint hint of warm iron lingered on them. Lewell'yn thought back. When had he decided to kill the man? Had he decided to do so? The one on his shoulder—conscious decision—the captain's lover though… had he made a decision there?One second they'd baited each other with words, the next the captain's favourite hit the floor, his carotid sliced cleanly through. Lewell'yn turned the incident around and around in his mind. The sequence of events didn't add up. No fucking gain for him. The pirate leader would have killed anyone else—good thing the git still found him useful. Lewell'yn didn't fancy testing the breathability on the other side of any of the airlocks. He still breathed solely because he had the dubious distinction of being the one man on the ship Captain Arameelne feared. Well, Arameelne also wanted to tie him up and fuck him till he begged for mercy. Which he made a point of telling Lewell'yn as often as possible.Licentious prick.Lewell'yn got reassigned to the team of caretakers in charge of a group of slaves being shipped to Kyrth. Playing glorified nursemaid for a bunch of anxious slaves was a far cry from having no regular duties other than killing on command. The duty change definitely hampered his ability to complete his N.I.S. mission. Worse yet, though Lewell'yn had a basic knowledge of the Kyrth slaves and what the contract for their delivery entailed, he had no detailed intel on them. Worst of all, he had no time to gather information. Hence the intense pique at his new assignment.Fuck and double fuck.The Kyrth slaves, all two hundred sixty of them, were held in a separate area per the stipulations of the Captain's contract with the sentient predators. The Kyrth had taboos against hunting pregnant game. They always stipulated their prey remain untouched during transport. Lewell'yn had heard rumours about what the Kyrth did to slavers who failed to honour any part of their contract.Really—the captain shoulda thought his revenge out a bit.Lewell'yn? Not the lad to inconvenience. Arameelne made a grave mistake by forcing Lewell'yn to relocate his base of operations on the ship. Lewell'yn knew just how to extract payment for his troubles. He had a lovely win/win/lose scenario all worked out in his mind. Hell, he'd even tweaked his plan to fit with his real purpose for being on this ship. He'd win the slaves—who might just be the lost settlers he was looking for—they would win a reprieve from the Kyrth, and the captain would lose—everything.Heh.Served the fucking wanker right, getting caught in his own sticky web.Shipping those poor men halfway across the galaxy to be prey in the Kyrthian's annual blood sport rituals was barbaric. If you added in the bloody unfair bit about doing so without allowing them a decent screw… well. Downright criminal if you asked Lewell'yn.Thus, and he surely wasn't the only one to think this way, right and proper to alleviate their suffering along the way. A sound somewhere between a rough cough and a rusty chuckle escaped Lewell'yn's throat. He could even work out a way to swap the "pure" slaves with some of his worthless fellow crewmembers. Lovely thought—how interesting to watch Captain Arameelne try to explain to the Kyrth why their prey reeked of sex. He'd have to set up a delayed relay feed to some monitoring equipment so he could see the action unfold.Lewell'yn stored his… package… then checked his chronometer. He had to arrive at his new duty location soon. Lewell'yn opted for a sol-ray shower. He liked the old-fashioned water showers better because the feeling of liquid sliding over his skin helped to bring colours back into the world, helped slow the strobe flashes his sight degenerated into.He didn't have time today. Sol-ray showers were quick. An expedient clean-up meant fewer awkward questions. Showing up covered in gore or late would raise the likelihood of some wise-ass making a comment on his new status. He bit his cheek again. Let the taste of hot iron soothe him.Well. Assassin to babysitter—rather a step down.He could suck up the bitter taste of his demotion, and deal with the actual change. He understood the temptation to needle over the loss of status. Someone having the nerve to comment about lax discipline or status change to his face? Unacceptable.He wasn't scheduled to kill anyone else for the Captain today. His N.I.S. mission didn't require any 'disappearances' for several more days. Lewell'yn thought a full day free of death a good thing. He rolled his stiff shoulders, blowing out a breath as he sought to loosen the taut muscles around his mouth and in his neck. A shadow of a smile crept to one corner of his mouth. Twenty-some hours where he wasn't lost in the black and white world of death sounded restful. Damn good in fact. A stray thought flitted through his mind. The sparkle in his eyes morphed into a silvery flare.Unless by some plague-dark twist of an unkind fate Captain Arameelne teamed him with Harvitt.Nah.The Captain never struck Lewell'yn as completely stupid. He knew how Lewell'yn felt about Harvitt, the sorry sack of shit. He'd hated the fucker since the first time he saw him, singling out one of the youngest slaves, taunting the sorry little git like a meeka-cat with its prey. Harvitt claimed boredom that day. The fucker actually said he needed entertaining.Moronic fuck. As if any real entertainment value existed in scaring the timid ones.Lewell'yn shook himself.He meant frightening them wasn't right.Sure.He meant—Lewell'yn rounded the last corner and stopped abruptly at the doors leading to the Kyrth slaves' holding area. Through the clear-view panels he could see the guard waiting for relief. The edges of his vision greyed. He knew today had to be Firstday somewhere; Firstday in the First month of what was surely the First fucking year of a long stint in the Darkness. Lewell'yn checked his chrono. Not even 0700 bells and already shaping up as one hell of a day.Harvitt. The Light must hate him. He was paired with Harvitt.Lewell'yn felt his jaw tighten a little on the left side. He tucked his chin in just slightly, forcing the joint back into alignment. He'd learned the little trick the last time he'd seen the only decent medic the ship possessed.Kay. Such a lovely thing, all sighs and more please and—ah, he wanted to visit sickbay again soon. No. Shite. Lewell'yn shook his head sharply. The idea stayed lodged firmly in his mind. He couldn't. Spending time around Kay wasn't safe. Damnit.Lewell'yn tucked his chin again. The instant release of tension in his neck eased the hot blackness behind his eyes, slowed the bleeding-out of colour. He forced a slow even breath, and thought about counting to ten. Glancing again at Harvitt, he reconsidered, and adjusted the number upward by ninety.Mix a moronic fuck with an obstreperous git and you had Harvitt. Expose Lewell'yn to Harvitt for longer than two minutes and you had a homicidally irritated assassin.Spy.Oh, what-fucking-ever.Keeping a lid on his desire to kill Harvitt took every bit of self-control Lewell'yn possessed. The captain called down to tell Harvitt to stay an extra two hours and "familiarise" Lewell'yn with procedures for dealing with these slaves. Harvitt took great delight in telling Lewell'yn what to do.The rank bastard abso-fucking-lutely ate the task up.It was never wise to let a predator, nor even a rank scavenger like Harvitt, sense weakness of any sort. The scent of weakness only made them hungry for blood. For the rest of the time Harvitt 'tutored' him, Lewell'yn kept his attention centred on the sodding bottom-feeder showing him the ropes of his new assignment. Lewell'yn made careful note of what he said. More importantly, he made note of what Harvitt didn't say about the care and feeding of their… charges. After two damned hours, Harvitt finally took his putrid leave.Lewell'yn celebrated by unclenching his jaw.As Harvitt left, Lewell'yn spotted a tiny man with long, gleaming auburn hair and thick-lashed spring-leaf green eyes. The little beauty stepped into the holding area, and Lewell'yn's chest tightened up. He immediately began cataloguing potentially deadly threats in the area.Lewell'yn wondered how the man had managed to keep his pretty hair looking so clean. Shaking his head, he dismissed the delicious looking man as non-threatening.Shite.Lying to himself in the midst of this arsed-up mission? About as deadly a mistake as showing Harvitt weakness, both of which the small slave had incited.All Lewell'yn could think of was how much he wanted to strip the sexy little fucker bare, lick every delicious bit of skin revealed, and then sink balls deep into the man's ridiculously pert ass. Lewell'yn shook his head and refused to give any more weight to the matter. He chalked his obsession up to a deep need for sleep.Lewell'yn struggled to mask his response to the man. Even with all his training the task proved nearly impossible. Just wondering about the petite red head felt better than any of the actual fucks he'd had in the last three years…well, excepting the delicious medic Kayron. They both jolted like a bolt of electricity shot straight through Lewell'yn, burning his senses to ash.The suddenly electrified feeling pulled Lewell'yn towards the slave. With his rich red hair shot through with streaks of blond and his sun-kissed skin, the man looked as though he might smell of peaches. Lewell'yn loved peaches, the way their flesh felt firm to his teeth, the way the fine hair on them tickled against his lips and tongue.Peaches became Lewell'yn's absolute favourite fruit as soon as he realised they came packaged in such a splendidly wrapped for-adults-only form. Lewell'yn's mouth started to water, anticipation and imagination combining in his still clenching gut as his eyes roamed his brand-new favourite treat. He moved with unhurried, lethal grace towards the slave. He caught a whiff of the man's scent, a hint of musk, a whisper of sweetness tied together with vibrant warmth.Sweet Light, the man even smelled like peaches.Lewell'yn found the closer he moved towards the little slave, the more his mind cleared of the grey pre-killing fog Harvitt's earlier presence had induced. Plaguing Darkness… Lewell'yn needed to get at least five hours of fucking sleep today. The world seemed made of melting wax.Lewell'yn checked to see if the darkness stalking him were noticeable to anyone else. A quick glance around showed it wasn't. He marvelled at how the man's scent had brought the colour back so quickly. Lewell'yn turned his attention to watching the intriguing, sweetly musky smelling man, and noted his quarry watched him as well.Brilliant.This cat and mouse game ranked as the best bit of fun he'd had in at least—the last two minutes. Amusingly, the man attempted to observe Lewell'yn without bringing scrutiny upon himself.Heh.As if the sweet little thing could go unnoticed… not likely, not even in a room full of blind men. Not even a completely sightless man would miss the fine curve at the top of his surprisingly long legs.Positively aerodynamic.Mmm, what Lewell'yn wouldn't give for a taste of the petite man comprised a damn short list. Hmm. The idea had merit. Sneaking about seducing the man would keep Lewell'yn's 'detection avoidance' skills sharp and gather more information at the same time. Lewell'yn smiled. He loved having work he truly enjoyed.He'd have to see if the little peach one tasted as sweet as he looked.Letting more of his attention be drawn by the way the auburn haired man attempted to hide brought relief to Lewell'yn. The game entertained enough to offset the assassin's exhaustion.By far the smallest in the group, Lewell'yn's target stood shorter than the next tallest man by at least half a head. Lewell'yn quelled a smile as he tracked the man by listening for whispered questions coming from the little hole in the centre of the crowd of slaves.Lewell'yn caught himself about to laugh out loud. How long since he'd actually laughed out loud? Too fucking long if he couldn't remember the last time.The little man darted green-eyed glances at him every few minutes, peeking up from under a thick screen of lashes. Though Lewell'yn pretended not to notice, every single glance sent hot pulses of electricity rushing through his groin. Oh yes, he had noticed. He had noted earlier, with far less amusement, how Harvitt seemed interested in the petite beauty as well. Any interest Harvitt had in the little man spelled danger. Just before Harvitt left, Lewell'yn had felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise. He caught himself in the midst of remembering the moment, baring his teeth at the now absent Harvitt, a subvocal growl rolling up from his chest to scratch at the inside of his throat.If only the worthless fuck gave him half an excuse.
****Buy Links:At Silver Publishing: https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/products_id/726At AllRomanceEbooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-tian039shero-769647-143.htmlAt Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tians-hero-cherie-noel/1109811822?ean=2940014175401

You can find Cherie Noel, author of Tian’s Hero,  rambling and carrying on nearly every day over at the Writing Cave: http://talesfromthewritingcave.blogspot.com/

A very big thanks to my guests and their authoress, Cherie Noel, for letting them out to play with me! Don't forget to leave a comment to be entered in a drawing to win a copy of my story, My Fearful Symmetry.


Until next time, my darlings!


Love and Dark Kisses,


Cedric MacKinnon


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Coming soon! Host Cedric MacKinnon's Portrait by Arlie Adams

Winner of Go Publish Yourself! by Katie Salidas

The winner of Go Publish Yourself! by Katie Salidas is Lindsey R. Loucks!  Congratulations!  Katie will be contacting you about your prize.  Thanks to everyone who commented!

Sexy Cedric Interviews Cash Newcomb of Hunter Moon/Giveaway

Greetings my darlings!  Today, I have a very special guest to tantalize you.  He's from the novel Hunter Moon by Cait Lavender.  You can enter to win an ecopy of this book by leaving a comment for our guest at the end of the post.  By doing so, you'll also be entered in this blog's monthly drawing for a copy of my tale, My Fearful Symmetry.  Please leave a contact email.  Winner will be chosen by random drawing.

Deadline for Hunter's Moon drawing 4/28/12 at 11:59 p.m. EST.
Deadline for My Fearful Symmetry 4/30/12 at 11:59 p.m. EST.



Welcome to Sexy Saturday with Cedric! I do hope you’ll share a few spicy tidbits, my darling. Settle into my hot seat of love. Don’t worry--I never bite unless invited. Please introduce yourself to the readers.


Um...Hi Cedric. I’m Cash Newcomb, I’m a game warden in Central California. You can read about me in Hunter Moon by Cait Lavender.


Cash, why don’t you share a little about your vital statistics? What makes you such a mouth-watering object of desire?


I can honestly say no one has ever called me that before...I’m a lupine, that’s a werewolf to you. I’ve been around a lot longer than I look.


You shouldn't be so modest, darling--but since you are here is a picture for the readers to feast their eyes upon.






All I can say is, oh my.  Are you sure you only like girls?  We Immortyls are more experimental you might say.  Tell me a little about yourself—don’t spare any juicy details.


I was born in Laramie, Wyoming...a while ago. I came to California to get away from...the family business when I met Shelby and she turned my world upside down.


So, what do you look for in your ideal partner?


As an Alpha, I get enough people either consciously or unconsciously being submissive to me, so I need a girl who’s not afraid to stand up to me. It’s more fun that way.


I couldn't agree more.  I like strong women as well.  Tell me about that special someone your life.


Her name is Shelby Flint. She’s a feisty, fiery cowgirl and I’m determined to make her my mate. She’s not making it easy on me. What can I say? She has a lot of guns.


Ah, she's like my Mia then.  Got to love a girl with a gun.  I’ve had my share of tumultuous relationships, but I must admit, I prefer those that present a challenge. Do you like someone who lets you take the lead, or do you like strong-minded lovers?


Like I said, I need someone who’s not afraid of me. I can get a little possessive and when a mate is concerned, all self-control goes out the window. I nearly killed a guy who touched her. Not my proudest moment.


What is your idea of the perfect evening out?


Generally, I like to get a little hairy and run around, if you know what I mean. But lately? It’s sneaking into Shelby’s house and crawling into her bed. Furry or otherwise.


I do hope you're trained, if you know what I mean.  Supposing the plan is to stay in. All great lovers have their trade secrets. How do you create the perfect romantic atmosphere?

Well, lately I’m lucky if I don’t get a gun pointed at my chest, but usually? I love to dance, so flipping on a little music and swaying around the living room sounds just about perfect.


Anything else you’d like to share?
You can find out more about Shelby and me in Hunter Moon by Cait Lavender available on Amazon, B&N and Smashwords.


You can also find Cait Lavender on
Facebook
Twitter @caitlavender
or on her website http://www.caitlavender.com/


I'd like to thank Cash for joining me today, and his authoress, Cait Lavender for letting him out to play!
I'll be back soon, my darlings, to share some spicy tidbits from my new adventure, Servant of the Goddess.

Until then, love and dark kisses,
Your Naughty Lad,
Cedric MacKinnon

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Coming Soon!

Katie Salidas on Go Publish Yourself/Review and Giveaway

Today, I welcome Katie Salidas back to Immortyl Revolution.  She's currently on her Virtual Book Tour.  I've been following Katie's career since the publication of her first novel, Immortalis Carpe Noctem.  She's the owner of Rising Sign Books and has been on before to talk about self-publishing. 
Recently, she released a how-to book called
Go Publish Yourself!.

Contest: Two ways to win!
1. You can enter to win a ebook of Go Publish Yourself! To enter, leave a comment for Katie.  Deadline is 4/26/12, 11:59 p.m. Winner will be chose by random drawing. Please leave a contact email.
2. By leaving a comment for Katie, you'll also be entered in my monthly drawing.  This month's prize is an ebook (Nook, Kindle or PDF format) of my vampire novel, My Fearful Symmetry.  Deadline to enter is 11:59 p.m., 4/30/12.  Winner will be chosen by random drawing from all commenters at this blog throughout the month of April.  Please leave a contact email.



Review of Go Publish Yourself!
Go Publish Yourself! is a step-by-step, easy-to-read guide about the self-publishing process. Author Katie Salidas draws upon her experience of starting her own publishing company and offers not only a guide to putting together a polished product, but information on how to market it, something even a traditionally published author will find useful. The book encompasses everything from obtaining ISBN numbers to creating an attractive cover. There are sections on both bound and ebooks. Salidas also provides several useful links at the end of the book.


I like that the author stresses the importance of submitting a book to multiple critiques and hiring the services of a professional editor before publication. Right off the bat, she cautions that self-publishing isn’t likely to make one a millionaire and that creating and promoting a book takes a lot of effort. She also stresses that there is a financial investment and hard work involved in doing the job right, but if someone is willing to put in the work, it can be done. I would recommend this book to anyone researching the possibility of self-publishing.

Interview with Author Katie Salidas



What led you to form Rising Sign Books and self-publish?


KS: Publishing has been a dream of mine for a long time. When I originally looked to publish Immortalis Carpe Noctem, book one in the Immortalis series, I attempted the traditional route. The book, while well received was looked at as too late to reach the hot market. Vampires at that point (thanks to Twilight) were a popular creature, sadly though, that also meant the market was being flooded with vampire-related stories. In traditional publishing it can take up to 24 months from the sale of a story to seeing it in print. At that rate, even if I had sold the story, I might still have missed the hot market by the time it was published. That’s when I began looking into self-publishing. Doing it myself, I could get it to the market while it was still hot. That’s what gave me the inspiration to pursue self-publishing, and Rising Sign Books was born.


What would you say is the most important consideration for an author seeking to self-publish?

KS: If you’re going to self-publish, you need to take the time to do it right. One of the biggest reasons that self-publishing had a bad name to begin with is quality. Back before it became more mainstream, self-publishing was super expensive. Editing for example could cost thousands. Many authors couldn’t afford to do it right and self-publishing became synonymous with poor quality. It left a bad taste in many reader’s mouths. Today it is cheaper and much easier to do, but quality is still key. So if you’re interested in self-publishing, take your time, do your research, and put out the best quality product you can.

Give a brief run-down of the steps you take to develop, create and market your work.


KS: Brief is hard to do. That’s exactly why I wrote a book on the subject. Go Publish Yourself does exactly that. It begins with budgeting your book, taking into consideration things like: editing, layout, and book cover art, etc… Then, it runs through both print and ebook formatting tips. After that, you’ll look at pricing, copyright, and getting the book into book stores. Finally, it ends on marketing with topics such as: press kits, blog tours, giveaways, and book signings. There’s a whole wealth of information inside that I think will really help any self-publisher, both novices and even seasoned authors.


Realistically, what kind of investment in time and money (aside from the actual writing) should a self-published author anticipate?


KS: Rather than say, “it should take you 4 months” to self-publish, I’d say it really boils down to steps. Once your manuscript is finished (meaning you’ve written all the way to “the end.”) you’ll need to have it critiqued. This is not editing. This is where you give the book to a few readers to pick apart. Consider that a first pass. You should revise after this. Then, you’ll want to beta read the revisions. This is another pass by a different set of eyes. There is usually another round of revisions here too. After that, if you’re completely satisfied with all of the changes, you can move on to editing. Once edited then you’ll need to lay it out for your publishing formats. At this stage you’ll need to nail down your cover art, file your copyright, and assign your ISBN. Then when it’s all ready, you can put it all together and publish.


As far as money is concerned. You’ll want to budget for: Editing (variable pricing dependent on who you hire), Cover art (variable pricing dependent on who you hire), ISBN (purchase a pack of 10 for about $250), Copyright (file online for $35), Layout (you can do this yourself or hire out for $100-200), and if you’re going to have print copies, you’ll have some setup fees from your printer.


While it no longer has to cost thousands of dollars to print, the actual cost will vary from person to person depending on the options you chose and the freelancers you hire. Just be aware of your budget and do your homework when looking for freelancers to hire. To help get you started, you can look at this list of websites and freelance editors and artists.


http://www.risingsignbooks.net/2012/03/self-publishing-website-guide.html


What would you say is the most valuable marketing tool you've utilized? Is it important to give out free copies and keep your price point low?


Giving free copies away, if done right, is a wonderful way to draw readers to your new book. When I say, done right I mean with a purpose. Don’t just give away copies to everyone, you’ll never make any money on them that way. My favorite way to do this is to go on blog tour and offer various giveaways as part of each tour stop. I often give each tour host a free e-copy of my newest release. This way the blog hosts gets an incentive to host you. They can read the book at their leisure, and may also give a review on their book (Book reviews are a very important thing). I also like to offer an additional copy of the book to offer as a giveaway for their readers. Contests are great ways to excite readers and get more exposure for your book. Just remember, when marketing, have a purpose behind everything you do.

Do you recommend placing books in big bookstores like Barnes and Noble or independent booksellers?

That’s a tough one. Yes, we all want big bookstore exposure but it can be a little easier said than done. It’s actually a topic I cover in Go Publish Yourself, with a few calculations to show you what price points you would have to set your book at in order to make it cost effective. In short, I would say try to get yourself into indie book stores first before hitting the big chain stores.

Does your company have any plans to publish other authors? What are some of the services your company has to offer writers?


Rising Sign Books is working on creating a boilerplate Author contract and will look to take on new authors later this year. To be notified about upcoming Rising Sign Books news and request for submissions please sign up for our newsletter at http://www.risingsignbooks.net

As of right now we are not open to submissions but we do offer some a la carte services to assist authors in self-publishing their novels. Services such as: Manuscript critiquing at $0.0025 per word and

Katie, than you for joining me today and sharing your wealth of knowlege. 

You can also follow Katie at these links:
Facebook
http://twitter.com/#!/quixotickatie



Sexy Cedric Interviews The Watcher

 Today, I welcome a very special guest to my boudoir of dreams.  Please join me in welcoming the titular hero of The Watcher by L. M. Brown.  Please leave a comment at to be entered in a month-long drawing to win an ecopy of my story, My Fearful Symmetry.  Details at the end of the post.
Cedric on Facebook






Welcome to Sexy Saturday with Cedric, mate! I do hope you’ll share a few spicy tidbits, my darling. Settle into my hot seat of love. This is the first time I’ve had a guest without supernatural abilities, or one from my side of the pond, for that matter. I’m sure it will be a delicious experience. Don’t worry. I never bite unless invited.

However, mortals usually find me irresistible.

Please introduce yourself to the readers.


I’m Nathaniel Carruthers, though my friends, what few I have left, usually call me Nate. I’m afraid I don’t have any supernatural abilities, though wouldn’t mind the ability to become invisible.


To start us off, why don’t you share some of your history—don’t spare any juicy details.


I’m an only child and after my parents died I came into a fortune. It was held in trust for me until I was twenty one. After that, well, let’s just say I went off the rails a little. If you were suddenly in possession of more money than you could hope to spend in a lifetime, wouldn’t you enjoy it?

I certainly did.

My darling, I love spending money--other people's money.


I became something of a local celebrity. Nothing on the scale of the Hiltons, but around town I was pretty well known.

I had my choice of men or women. I know it sounds arrogant, but it’s true. What my looks didn’t get me, the money did.

At least until the accident. That was two years ago and when everything changed.

You probably read about it in the papers – the playboy who partied too hard – though the reports were rather exaggerated. I hadn’t been drinking that night and it was the other car who took the red light, not mine. Not that the press ever cared about the truth.

The crash left me with scars I can’t hide. Even after I was back on my feet again the appeal of partying on the edge was long gone.

 My friends had mostly moved on and while I could have bought them back, I didn’t want to. A close call like the one I had makes you re-evaluate your life, you know?

For the last two years I’ve lived pretty much the life of a hermit. Oh I go out when I have to, for medical appointments and the like, but mostly I stay hidden from the rest of the world.

I understand you own a hotel. You must have a lot of interesting stories to tell.

Probably not as many as you think. We’re a high class establishment and our guests value their privacy as much as I value mine.

Of course, there was that one time when someone let loose a bunch of terrapins in the hotel pool. We never did find out who was responsible for that. They have a large custom built tank of their own in the lobby now.

I doubt that sort of story is what you’re looking for though, is it? No, I can tell from the look in your eyes the sort of story you’re after. Unfortunately, while there has been the occasional lovers’ spat in the hotel, they usually take place behind closed doors. We get the odd complaint from neighbouring rooms and we deal with those quickly and professionally.

You have a rather interesting pastime. Tell the readers a bit about this dirty little secret.


Well, the pastime didn’t really start out like that.

My parents believed the best way to run any business is to learn from the bottom up. By the time I was twenty one I’d been changing beds, cleaning bathrooms, manning the reception and waiting tables in the hotel restaurant. By the time of the accident I’d got the managerial experience as well. Six months after the accident my manager quit and it was easy enough to take over the role of manager until a replacement was found.

The only problem was our regular security cameras are located down in the basement. And every time there was an issue that required my attention I had to go down through the hotel, past the guests and the staff, to view the footage.

But they did.

Yeah, I watched them. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done exactly the same. They were amazing to see. This wasn’t some online porn site. There was no playing up to the camera or making sure they were in the right position for the best shot. It was real and it was bloody hot.

If you’d seen them, you’d have watched them too. And after seeing that, let me tell you, no staged porno would ever match up to it.
If you had the resources to duplicate that scene, wouldn’t you at least try?

I suppose I'd take a wee peek now and then.  Purely for research, you know.

So, what do you look for in the ideal partner? Describe this object of desire.


Humph. Someone with a strong constitution or blind as a bat?
Before the accident I wasn’t particularly picky about my partners. Tall or short, blond or dark, it didn’t matter as long as they knew what they were doing in the bedroom. I was out for a good time and I had just that.

These days I’ve come to realise looks aren’t that important to me. After all, I’m looking for someone who won’t mind that my own good looks are never coming back. Oh, there’s surgery as an option, I know. My doctor brings it up every now and again, but I’d never be exactly the same as I was before.

Now I’d be happy with someone who doesn’t flinch every time they look at me. Someone who won’t shy away if I try to get close to him.

I guess I just want someone who will love me in spite of the scars.


Ah, don't we all.  I’ve had my share of tumultuous relationships, but I must admit, I prefer those that present a challenge. Do you like someone who lets you take the lead, or do you like strong-minded lovers?


I’ve always liked to take the lead in the past. Right now I’m not in a relationship and since I’ve become this recluse it’s going to take someone strong-minded and forceful to even get my attention.

 Turn-ons? Turn-offs?


Turn-ons: Someone who isn’t afraid to be noisy in bed. That was the one thing I didn’t get through the security cameras. They only pick up visual, not sound.

Turn-offs: Anyone who’s completely turned off by the idea of a little bit of kink. There’d be no point in starting a relationship with someone who gets all judgemental when they find out I get turned on watching other men have sex.

I concur.  Life without kink is like a day without sunshine--wait, that includes all my days.  Good thing I'm nice and kinky. 

What is your idea of the perfect evening? All great lovers have their trade secrets. How would you create the perfect romantic atmosphere?

I went on many romantic dates before the accident. Some of them were the best that money could buy, but not all of them were a success. You can be in an expensive restaurant, with a perfect atmosphere and exquisite food, but if you don’t have anything to talk to your date about by the time you’ve finished your starter, the perfect evening evaporates pretty damn fast.

Absolutely, which is why courtesans like me are trained in conversation and are knowledgeable on various subjects.  There is more to the art of love than shagging.  Conversation is the perfect first course of love.


The best dates, the ones I remember as being perfect, were the ones I didn’t plan down to the last detail. Like the time I snuck out to be with my first boyfriend and climbed back in the window just before dawn. We spent most of the night in his car, just driving around and talking, and yeah, we did a bit of parking as well. We didn’t go to a restaurant – my allowance didn’t quite stretch that far back in those days – we ate burgers from a late night burger stand near one of the nightclubs. We tried to get into the club but we were underage and the bouncer wouldn’t let us inside. It didn’t matter really, from what we could hear at the door the music was crap anyway.

There was nothing planned about that night, but for me it was perfect anyway because, even though I was grounded and we hadn’t much money between the two of us, we were together.

I don’t believe the perfect evening can be planned. Just enjoyed when you find yourself in one.

There is much to be said for serendipity.  Anything else you’d like to share?


The Watcher by L.M. Brown

Part of the Wicked Watchers: Looking at the Lads anthology


(ebook)
 A Multi-author M/M anthology from the writers of Wednesday Briefs, who bring you prompt induced Flash fiction every Wednesday. Bigger Briefs is an anthology we began to showcase our slightly bigger briefs. Er, flash fiction. We invite you to take the journey with us!
Have you ever had the feeling you’re being watched? Sometimes, watching can be naughty. And nice. Seven erotic stories from of those who are spied upon, and those who do the spying. You might be surprised to learn who has their eye… on you…

The Watcher by L.M. BrownWhen you're rich, but horribly scarred, and your only pleasure is to watch people come and go in the hotel you own…When you inadvertently watch the hottest guy you've ever seen make love in a lift… When you employ someone to recreate the event, and then when the person you employed brings the hot man to your door… Do you dare to open it?


ExcerptIt was getting late when Nate saw a particularly handsome face on the monitor that showed the main lobby of the hotel. The black and white display showed a tall, blond man; he walked purposefully towards the lifts, his pace fast and sure. “Well, hello Blondie,” Nate commented, followed by a low whistle of appreciation.

Beside the stranger was one of the regular hotel guests, a man who Nate saw pass through the doors every few months, staying anywhere from two days to a week. With dark hair, going slightly grey at the temples, and a stocky build, the man was not what you would call classically handsome. At least not compared to the stunning friend he’d brought back with him. Nate knew the guest was a businessman, usually in town for conferences, some of them hosted by this very hotel. He always carried his laptop with him, along with a briefcase practically bursting with papers. Nate didn’t recall ever seeing him in the company of another man before, at least not at this time of night.

As the men hurried into the lift, Nate twisted his chair to look at the feed from inside. The doors were barely closed before the two men were clawing at each other’s clothes. The businessman’s laptop and briefcase dropped to the floor as he tugged the other man’s shirt from his trousers.

“Do people not read the CCTV signs any more?” Nate muttered. Every foot of public space in the hotel was monitored by closed circuit television. The lobby and reception, the bar and lounge, the restaurant and pool—they were all covered. Only inside the public toilets and the rooms of the guests were there no cameras.

On the other hand, Nate mused, this was certainly cheaper than paying to watch online porn. Of course, the pair of them would only go so far in a public lift. Wouldn’t they?

OTHER STORIES IN THE ANTHOLOGY
Boy Can She Dance by Nephylim
Pool Party by Lily Sawyer
First Time Voyeur by Victoria Blisse
Roommates by Julie Lynn Hayes
My Lucky Night by A J Jarrett
Passion Bringer by Sara York


Visit my blog to see the blurbs for all the stories.
Available now from
All Romance Ebooks
(you need to be logged in to see the listing)
Amazon US
Amazon UK
B&N

Where to find L.M. Brown

Website – http://lmbrownauthor.webs.com/
Blog – http://lmbrownauthor.blogspot.com/
Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001471647696

Contest!  Deadline to enter is 11:59 p.m. EST on 4/30/12. Winner will be chosen by random drawing from comments made at this blog throughout the month of April 2012.  Please leave an email so you may be contacted.  Your choice of Kindle, Nook or PDF format. 



Enter to Win!

Coming Soon! Your Host Cedric MacKinnon's Portrait by Arlie Adams

Spotlight on Thomas Bryant and his novel, Long Gone

Spotlight on Thomas Bryant and his novel, Long Gone




LONG GONE puts you behind the eyes and the criminal mind of Sammy Page, whose childhood playground of stolen cars and hot rides took the place of monkey bars, swing sets and slides. He learned to case neighborhoods, pick locks and sidestep high tech burglar alarms, but could barely see over the steering wheel of his first stolen car. At the tender age of nine, his father left him with nothing but his name, Texas twang and a mother so desperate for money she blackmailed thieves to take him under their wing and show him the ropes. For cigarette money and a six pack of Coke, she sacrificed his future as he began his hopscotch down a crooked path that would lead to life of crime.






Now at 32, he's a loving husband to Marla, the woman of his dreams and has a special relationship with her daughter, Anita, who looks at "Sam I am" like he's a storybook hero. Feeling the pressure of love like he's never known, sends him desperately seeking to escape his felonious lifestyle, when he's identified on a surveillance tape at a crime scene where a husband-and-wife have been brutally murdered. Law enforcement, including three detectives who were Sammy's childhood friends, become frustrated and embarrassed trying to catch up with the smart and savvy Page, so they turn on Marla, charging her with obstruction of justice and threaten to remove Anita from the home. The thought of the love of his life behind bars and her little girl taken away, drive him to turn himself in. After two years in jail and two near fatal trips to the infirmary, Sammy survives only to find his longtime partner and lifelong friends testifying to put him to death.

Look for the new sexy suspense thriller LONG GONE a fast-paced tale of love, betrayal, corruption and murder. It's on the e-book shelves now at Amazon Kindle books and Barnes & Noble nook books or visit Thomas' website at http://www.sammypage.com/



About the author






Thomas Bryant received his education at Cal Baptist University in Riverside, CA. While studying political science, he began a love affair with books and discovered a passion for writing. Coming from humble beginnings with economic demands, he took an internship in the service industry as a heavy-duty diesel mechanic, which left him little time for books or writing.






He sought challenges, including baseball, football and wrestling as a young man and loved speed on the water in a flat bottom race boat called BORN to be WILD. Two weeks before he entered Arizona Bail Enforcement Academy to become a licensed Bounty Hunter, he was involved in a near fatal crash. Disabled and facing his toughest challenge, he returned to his first love of writing and found a whole new world in print and writing crime fiction/suspense novels. He's the author of the Sammy Page suspense/thriller series: LONG GONE and soon to be released, TURN the PAGE. He lives in the Ozarks of Missouri.


















Twitter: @ThomasABryant

Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Thomas-...