Lisa Worrall's Blog, page 37
January 30, 2012
FIVE DAYS UNTIL BEHIND THE MASK
4 FEBRUARY 2012 - BUY LINKBLURB:
The Downe's Valentine's Day Masquerade Ball has been an annual event for over a hundred years and where, four years ago, Gabe met Mike.
It's been over six months since Mike's death and Mike thinks that Gabe is ready to move on. How does Gabe know this? He receives a letter and a ticket to the ball, from Mike. Gabe isn't sure he'll ever be ready to move on, but in deference to Mike's memory, he attends the ball.
What Gabe doesn't know, is that his best friend, Tom, the one constant in his life since college, has also received a letter from Mike. Will Gabe be able to move forward and remember a long forgotten love, or will his world come crumbling down around his ears, again?
EXCERPT:
Valentine's Day 2011
Gabe stared out of the window as the taxi turned off the country lane they had been travelling down and onto the beginning of the gravel drive that led up to Downe Hall. The music could already be heard through the open windows of the large country house and laughter spilled out with it. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this… albeit under duress.The house looked as magnificent as it had on his first visit there four years ago, when he'd been talked into attending the event of the season. The Thomas Downe Annual Valentine's Day Masquerade Ball was legendary and people came from miles around to lose themselves in the splendour of it all; the music, the costumes, the chance to be someone else, for just one night.The grass verge on either side of the drive up to the gates was decorated with life size sculptures of naked men and women, covered with strategically placed white fairy lights, heralding the way to the house."That'll be eighteen fifty."Gabe looked at the taxi driver and blinked owlishly. "Huh?""The fare," the man repeated, nodding at the meter. "Eighteen pounds, fifty.""Oh, right," Gabe replied scrabbling in the pocket of his costume for a twenty pound note. He handed it to the other man mumbling, "Keep the change.""Thanks, mate. Nice costume by the way. You meeting someone in there?" The driver's question was innocent enough and Gabe knew that he couldn't know how those words made his gut tighten and his heart ache."Not this year," he replied and opened the door before the man could remark further. Gabe stood looking at the bridge over the moat to the large open gates. He'd spent a fortune on his costume and the ticket itself would have kept his fridge stocked for six months, even though he hadn't paid for it, so standing on the drive and watching other party-goers just sail past him was kind of stupid. And then there was the added concern that if he stood there much longer, the organisers might drape him in fairy lights.Besides, this was where it had all begun, it seemed only fitting that this is where it should end; where he should bury the past and move towards the future. He huffed a joyless laugh through parted lips. The future—what future? Mike seemed to think he was ready to embrace a life without him… but Gabe wasn't so sure.It felt like a lifetime ago, instead of four short years, that he'd stood exactly where he was now, staring at the splendour of Downe Hall, listening to the music spilling from the windows, his ticket clutched in his hand, just as it was now. Then, of course, his friend Tom had stood beside him, nudging him and urging him forward.Going to the Downe Valentine's Masquerade Ball had been Tom's idea back then. He'd had a real bee in his bonnet about it, made it sound like they were the losers of the year if they didn't attend, and how infamous the Downe Masquerade Ball was. If Gabe recalled correctly, the ridiculous corny expression, "It's the event of the year!" had left Tom's lips on more than one occasion. Tickets had been so expensive Gabe had almost balked at the price, but Tom had made it sound so damned exciting and had played to Gabe's more gullible, romantic side—before he'd known what he was doing, the tickets had been purchased and they were in the costumers, picking out their outfits.Four years ago, Tom had been fit to be tied by the time the taxi had pulled up outside Downe Hall. Gabe had spent the previous week reading everything he could about the place and had known its history inside out. The Masquerade ball had originally been held in London, until the event had proved too popular in the late 1830s and in need of a bigger venue. Thomas Downe had then decided opening his country estate once a year to his friends, neighbours and the elite of London society was a much more feasible option. The history books had been rife with stories that said Downe's sister, Mary, had not exactly been enamoured by the idea, and although the siblings lived in the same house, apparently they didn't speak to each other for almost a year. He remembered staring up at the house as the taxi had come to a stop outside the mansion that night, and wondering how unsettling the atmosphere must have been with brother and sister walking the gardens, ignoring each other as they went about their daily life; their only communication being through the servants.Not that communication on the taxi ride had been a problem for him and Tom that night. His best friend's lips hadn't stopped flapping since Gabe had arrived at Tom's to get dressed. The moron had been so over the top about the whole thing that Gabe had asked him on more than one occasion over the last week what was so special about the damned dance? Tom had merely shrugged and changed the subject, and had continued to behave like on speed, so much so that Gabe had been concerned Tom might've actually spontaneously combusted before they'd even made it to their first Masquerade.Looking up at the awe-inspiring country estate again now, a fond smile curved Gabe's lips as the memory of that Valentine's night in 2007 surrounded him.
January 28, 2012
CONTINENTAL DIVIDE - COMING SOON
CONTINENTAL DIVIDE
BY
LAURA E HARNER & LISA WORRALL
Two cops, one a cowboy, the other a Lord. A secret government agency and human trafficking.
What the hell have Remington and Mainwaring got themselves into? And will they be able to fight the bad guys while fighting their attraction to each other?
Coming soon...
LAURA E HARNER & LISA WORRALL
Two cops, one a cowboy, the other a Lord. A secret government agency and human trafficking.
What the hell have Remington and Mainwaring got themselves into? And will they be able to fight the bad guys while fighting their attraction to each other?
Coming soon...
January 27, 2012
FLASH FICTION FRIDAY
Hello my pretties and welcome to Flash Fiction Friday, where you will find one hundred words per week based upon a picture chosen at random by either myself or my cohorts in this marvellous adventure. Make sure you follow the links both within the one hundred and at the bottom of this post to see what other delights await you.
Tom shivered, the polished wood of the table was cold against his bare ass. He couldn't remember how long he'd been in this position, legs bent, hands clasped between them. He remembered the guy in the bar, soft conversation and the ease with which the drinks slid down his throat. Then nothing.A shuffling from across the room had his heart leaping into his mouth when a barely human voice rasped, "Don't scream. It makes him mad.""Where are we?" Tom hissed, peering into the dark.His blood turned to ice water in his veins when the voice replied, "Hell."
A huge thank you to Tom Webb for being this week's guest star. Make sure you head on over to his blog, Bear on Books to check out his wonderful reviews.
And make sure you do the clicky clicky to check out all the other one hundreds in relation to this week's pic.THE ROLLERCOASTER IS THIS WAY!"
Tom shivered, the polished wood of the table was cold against his bare ass. He couldn't remember how long he'd been in this position, legs bent, hands clasped between them. He remembered the guy in the bar, soft conversation and the ease with which the drinks slid down his throat. Then nothing.A shuffling from across the room had his heart leaping into his mouth when a barely human voice rasped, "Don't scream. It makes him mad.""Where are we?" Tom hissed, peering into the dark.His blood turned to ice water in his veins when the voice replied, "Hell."
A huge thank you to Tom Webb for being this week's guest star. Make sure you head on over to his blog, Bear on Books to check out his wonderful reviews.
And make sure you do the clicky clicky to check out all the other one hundreds in relation to this week's pic.THE ROLLERCOASTER IS THIS WAY!"
MASQUERADE: BEHIND THE MASK
The Downe's Valentine's Day Masquerade Ball has been an annual event for over a hundred years and where, four years ago, Gabe met Mike.
It's been over six months since Mike's death and Mike thinks that Gabe is ready to move on. How does Gabe know this? He receives a letter and a ticket to the ball, from Mike. Gabe isn't sure he'll ever be ready to move on, but in deference to Mike's memory, he attends the ball.
What Gabe doesn't know, is that his best friend, Tom, the one constant in his life since college, has also received a letter from Mike. Will Gabe be able to move forward and remember a long forgotten love, or will his world come crumbling down around his ears, again?
COMING SOON - 4 FEBRUARY 2012
It's been over six months since Mike's death and Mike thinks that Gabe is ready to move on. How does Gabe know this? He receives a letter and a ticket to the ball, from Mike. Gabe isn't sure he'll ever be ready to move on, but in deference to Mike's memory, he attends the ball.
What Gabe doesn't know, is that his best friend, Tom, the one constant in his life since college, has also received a letter from Mike. Will Gabe be able to move forward and remember a long forgotten love, or will his world come crumbling down around his ears, again?
COMING SOON - 4 FEBRUARY 2012
January 26, 2012
GUEST STAR: XAVIER AXELSON
Please join me and the gorgeous Xavier Axelson as he answers some questions and entices us with a taste of his new release, Lily.
Thank you for joining me on the sofa, Xavier Axelson and for agreeing to answer some questions for me.
1. So who is Xavier Axelson? A sensualist disguised as a demon.
2. Tell me a bit about your current WIP / latest release. My latest release is Lily with Silver Publishing. It is a paranormal romance about a father forced to accept the loss of a child.
3. How do you work, do you pick a title first, or characters names, or how they look? The story comes first; usually followed by names and characters. But, to be fair, it changes; each time I write it's different.
4. When did you know that writing was your passion? I really started writing around 4th grade. I don't think I've stopped since.
5. What was your first book and how long did it take to get it published? My first published work was a short story called "Serpentinga" about a descendent of Medusa who seeks revenge on the heirs of Athena and Poseidon. How long did it take? Um, I was 34 then, so 34 years? LOL
6. What some don't realize is that writing is a discipline and you have to proportion a part of your day to it – how long does it usually take you to complete a manuscript? Again, this varies for me. My most recent piece took about a week, while Lily took a couple months. I do write everyday and set a goal of two thousand words, anything over is gravy.
7. Do you outline your plots first? Or are you like me and just go hell for leather? Hell for leather; I wish I was the outlining type, but hell and leather is more my thing.
8. Out of your body of work – do you have a favourite character? I really love Pryor from Lily, I find him sad, hopeful and incredibly brave in his ability to let go.
9. If you were to offer advice to someone starting out, what would you say? Stay true to your own voice; don't worry what anyone else is doing.
10. Who are your favourite authors, in any genre? I'm going to pick the three authors I'm reading right now: Frank Herbert, Virginia Woolf and Jane Austen 11. If you hadn't chosen writing, or rather, writing hadn't chosen you, what do you think You would be doing for a living? I'd be a chef.
12. What do you do in your free time? And don't say writing! I do a lot of reading and lately I've gotten into audio books but I also love the beach, road trips, exploring and getting into mischief.
13. What makes you laugh? Things that probably shouldn't. I have a twisted sense of humor.
14. What irritates you most about other people? A False sense of entitlement.
And finally….
15. Would you like to share with us your favourite joke? The fact that Gay people can't get married but people like the Kardashian's can is a joke. Here, Here!
Thank you for coming to chat, Xavier Axelson and I wish you many sales. Thanks for having me!
It's been a pleasure talking with Xavier Axelson and you can find him at:-
http://www.facebook.com/xaviersaxelhttp://www.twitter.com/xaviersaxelhttp://www.examiner.com/la-in-los-angeles/francis-xavierhttp://www.xavieraxelson.com
And here's a little taster of LILY
Excerpt: LILY I am Lily's father, my name is Pryor. It was a year ago last Father's Day when she was taken from me. I still believe being Lily's father is the most important thing in this world.Unfortunately, my daughter dwells in another world.
* * * * *I glanced at the necklace. Ned's pressed close to me, but the necklace I hoped would bring Lily back to me felt closer. Ned was soft in his sleep; not the bull of a man he was when he's awake. I loved him soft and I loved him hard. It was his hardness that grounded me, that brought me in from the darkness. The necklace caught the light of the fading moon and I wondered where Lily was tonight.The old clock on the nightstand hummed quietly; its vintage florescent glow a pale mockery of the necklace that lay beside it and yet I heard the clock, it won in that department. Time always does.Ned moved against me, I could feel his arms pull me close, felt the bulge of his muscles, his arms thick and powerful. He had never loved a man before me. I had only loved Lily. Once she changed, I had little left to love; in fact, I was certain love had disappeared from my life all together.The clock still hummed, never quiet; it's old and made noise as if time itself wanted us all to know that it was passing and with each minute Lily fell farther and farther into the darkness. The tears came then and at the same time Ned's cock pushed more firmly against my back. He grumbled, pulled me even tighter so that I could truly feel his penis--not hard, not entirely soft--on the edge of wanting. A tear fell and I gasped a little. Seeing the necklace; hearing the clock, feeling Ned's cock, his muscles, I fell away into him and closed my eyes."Why aren't you sleeping?""I was," I replied softly."No you weren't," his voice was sleepy; distant and yet he knew things, he knew I was awake, thinking about my lost daughter."It's Father's Day," I answered, skipping over my lie. "Do you think she will come?" I felt him nod and nodded in return against my pillow. Another tear fell."Come closer," he whispered."How much closer could I get?""Closer," he said again, a growl, a grunt; there was the bull I knew.His lips brushed on my neck, a hand on my thigh stroking, touching, pulling a sigh from my mouth. I wiped a hand across my face."I never get sick of touching you," he whispered wetly, his tongue tracing my ear.Smiling, I turned in his big arms and I could feel my thoughts ease. Ned had that way about him. 'Magic arms' I called him because he had this way of holding me that made me feel completely safe and for one man to be able to do that for another was amazing.I kissed him and was happy to discover his breath was not bad but sweet, the trace of his toothpaste before bed still there and I smiled even as I kissed him. Ned sighed gently, his cock fully hard now, urgent, pressing. I reached down and stroked him through his boxers; he was already wet. I tried to pull my tongue from his mouth but he only pulled me closer, deeper; at one point I was almost certain one of us was going to stop breathing.He finally relented but only because I jokingly squeezed his balls a little too tightly."Fuck, you make me nuts," he grumbled, we both laughed at his joke.
His hand reached for my cock; I slept naked so there was no flimsy cotton between his rough hands and my skin."You like that?"I nodded, I did like it, I'd thought I wouldn't ever be able to like sex again, or any intimacy after Lily disappeared.His hands were rough but I relished his edges; he touched me as if he knew me and, after a year, I guess he kind of did."You want me to suck it?" His voice was hoarse with his question; there was still a shy embarrassment behind it, as if he couldn't really believe he was going to suck cock."What do you think?"My response excited him. I could see it in his eyes, even in the dark; the fading moon told me just enough.When you had a daughter like mine, you learned a lot from the moon.
XAVIER IS GIVING AWAY A COPY OF LILY TO ONE LUCKY WINNER AT THE END OF HIS BLOG TOUR - SO LEAVE A COMMENT TO MAKE SURE YOU'RE NOT MISSING OUT ON YOUR CHANCE :)
Thank you for joining me on the sofa, Xavier Axelson and for agreeing to answer some questions for me.
1. So who is Xavier Axelson? A sensualist disguised as a demon.
2. Tell me a bit about your current WIP / latest release. My latest release is Lily with Silver Publishing. It is a paranormal romance about a father forced to accept the loss of a child.
3. How do you work, do you pick a title first, or characters names, or how they look? The story comes first; usually followed by names and characters. But, to be fair, it changes; each time I write it's different.
4. When did you know that writing was your passion? I really started writing around 4th grade. I don't think I've stopped since.
5. What was your first book and how long did it take to get it published? My first published work was a short story called "Serpentinga" about a descendent of Medusa who seeks revenge on the heirs of Athena and Poseidon. How long did it take? Um, I was 34 then, so 34 years? LOL
6. What some don't realize is that writing is a discipline and you have to proportion a part of your day to it – how long does it usually take you to complete a manuscript? Again, this varies for me. My most recent piece took about a week, while Lily took a couple months. I do write everyday and set a goal of two thousand words, anything over is gravy.
7. Do you outline your plots first? Or are you like me and just go hell for leather? Hell for leather; I wish I was the outlining type, but hell and leather is more my thing.
8. Out of your body of work – do you have a favourite character? I really love Pryor from Lily, I find him sad, hopeful and incredibly brave in his ability to let go.
9. If you were to offer advice to someone starting out, what would you say? Stay true to your own voice; don't worry what anyone else is doing.
10. Who are your favourite authors, in any genre? I'm going to pick the three authors I'm reading right now: Frank Herbert, Virginia Woolf and Jane Austen 11. If you hadn't chosen writing, or rather, writing hadn't chosen you, what do you think You would be doing for a living? I'd be a chef.
12. What do you do in your free time? And don't say writing! I do a lot of reading and lately I've gotten into audio books but I also love the beach, road trips, exploring and getting into mischief.
13. What makes you laugh? Things that probably shouldn't. I have a twisted sense of humor.
14. What irritates you most about other people? A False sense of entitlement.
And finally….
15. Would you like to share with us your favourite joke? The fact that Gay people can't get married but people like the Kardashian's can is a joke. Here, Here!
Thank you for coming to chat, Xavier Axelson and I wish you many sales. Thanks for having me!
It's been a pleasure talking with Xavier Axelson and you can find him at:-
http://www.facebook.com/xaviersaxelhttp://www.twitter.com/xaviersaxelhttp://www.examiner.com/la-in-los-angeles/francis-xavierhttp://www.xavieraxelson.com
And here's a little taster of LILY
Excerpt: LILY I am Lily's father, my name is Pryor. It was a year ago last Father's Day when she was taken from me. I still believe being Lily's father is the most important thing in this world.Unfortunately, my daughter dwells in another world.
* * * * *I glanced at the necklace. Ned's pressed close to me, but the necklace I hoped would bring Lily back to me felt closer. Ned was soft in his sleep; not the bull of a man he was when he's awake. I loved him soft and I loved him hard. It was his hardness that grounded me, that brought me in from the darkness. The necklace caught the light of the fading moon and I wondered where Lily was tonight.The old clock on the nightstand hummed quietly; its vintage florescent glow a pale mockery of the necklace that lay beside it and yet I heard the clock, it won in that department. Time always does.Ned moved against me, I could feel his arms pull me close, felt the bulge of his muscles, his arms thick and powerful. He had never loved a man before me. I had only loved Lily. Once she changed, I had little left to love; in fact, I was certain love had disappeared from my life all together.The clock still hummed, never quiet; it's old and made noise as if time itself wanted us all to know that it was passing and with each minute Lily fell farther and farther into the darkness. The tears came then and at the same time Ned's cock pushed more firmly against my back. He grumbled, pulled me even tighter so that I could truly feel his penis--not hard, not entirely soft--on the edge of wanting. A tear fell and I gasped a little. Seeing the necklace; hearing the clock, feeling Ned's cock, his muscles, I fell away into him and closed my eyes."Why aren't you sleeping?""I was," I replied softly."No you weren't," his voice was sleepy; distant and yet he knew things, he knew I was awake, thinking about my lost daughter."It's Father's Day," I answered, skipping over my lie. "Do you think she will come?" I felt him nod and nodded in return against my pillow. Another tear fell."Come closer," he whispered."How much closer could I get?""Closer," he said again, a growl, a grunt; there was the bull I knew.His lips brushed on my neck, a hand on my thigh stroking, touching, pulling a sigh from my mouth. I wiped a hand across my face."I never get sick of touching you," he whispered wetly, his tongue tracing my ear.Smiling, I turned in his big arms and I could feel my thoughts ease. Ned had that way about him. 'Magic arms' I called him because he had this way of holding me that made me feel completely safe and for one man to be able to do that for another was amazing.I kissed him and was happy to discover his breath was not bad but sweet, the trace of his toothpaste before bed still there and I smiled even as I kissed him. Ned sighed gently, his cock fully hard now, urgent, pressing. I reached down and stroked him through his boxers; he was already wet. I tried to pull my tongue from his mouth but he only pulled me closer, deeper; at one point I was almost certain one of us was going to stop breathing.He finally relented but only because I jokingly squeezed his balls a little too tightly."Fuck, you make me nuts," he grumbled, we both laughed at his joke.
His hand reached for my cock; I slept naked so there was no flimsy cotton between his rough hands and my skin."You like that?"I nodded, I did like it, I'd thought I wouldn't ever be able to like sex again, or any intimacy after Lily disappeared.His hands were rough but I relished his edges; he touched me as if he knew me and, after a year, I guess he kind of did."You want me to suck it?" His voice was hoarse with his question; there was still a shy embarrassment behind it, as if he couldn't really believe he was going to suck cock."What do you think?"My response excited him. I could see it in his eyes, even in the dark; the fading moon told me just enough.When you had a daughter like mine, you learned a lot from the moon.
XAVIER IS GIVING AWAY A COPY OF LILY TO ONE LUCKY WINNER AT THE END OF HIS BLOG TOUR - SO LEAVE A COMMENT TO MAKE SURE YOU'RE NOT MISSING OUT ON YOUR CHANCE :)
January 25, 2012
HOW LOW DO YOU SINK BEFORE YOU SAY "HELP - I CAN'T COPE" ?
I don't know, what do you think?
Is it when you're climbing the walls at one in the morning trying desperately to listen to the rational part of your brain that's telling you you're being irrational? That you can breathe? That the shakes and the shivers and the manic thoughts and the racing pulse are all in your head?
Or when you are on the phone to the Samaritans in the wee hours of the morning talking to a complete stranger because you're terrified to close your eyes?
Or when you're stepping over the piles of crap that used to be your life and wondering where it all went wrong?
Or when you're friend says to you "Why didn't you tell me you weren't coping?" Then tries to make you understand that "It's alright for you to fall apart, it's alright for you to not cope. But you have to tell me so I can help get you back on track."
But how do you explain that it's not alright for you to fall apart? It's incredibly hard for you to lean on anyone. That you're supposed to be able to do it all. And if you fall apart, HE'LL be right. That you lived with a man for years who made you feel inadequate as a wife, as a mother, as a person? That you've been wearing your game face for so long that you don't know how to take it off? That as long as you keep smiling and being jolly and cut fast and loose with the wit and the wisecracks just like normal... no one will know. No one will be able to see that where there was calm there is now chaos. Where there was light there's so much dark you don't think you'll ever be able to see your way out.
And then they peel off the veil you've been wearing over your eyes for so long that you didn't see what was going on around you. That they do know. That you haven't been as clever as you thought. You haven't been able to hide the fact that you're just a shell and the person you see in the mirror is someone you don't even recognise any more.
Is that when you say, I need to reach out? Is that when you can reach out? When you can say actually I think I might be in a bit of trouble? That's when you find out who your real friends are. The ones who've been there all along. The ones who've seen you at your best and don't care that you're at your worst, because they know you don't want to feel like this... this isn't something you enjoy... something you relish.
And then you have that one friend who says, right. I know this isn't you. I know you've hit the bottom and right now we're working our way up. The friend who takes your hand and says, okay... now we're doing something about it and rolls up their shirt sleeves and dives in whether you like it or not. The one who makes you realise even if its only a tiny bit... you are worth something after all.
Mine's called Amanda. Who's yours?
January 22, 2012
UNOFFICIAL SIX
AVAILABLE NOW"It didn't make any difference. Even when I was in his arms I couldn't forget. I wanted—"Carter's eyes softened as he looked down into Max's. "You wanted?" he echoed.Max closed his eyes against the spark of want, right, now that flashed through his body, setting his nerve endings alight. "I—I wanted it to be you."
January 21, 2012
IT'S TIME TO QUENCH YOUR.... THIRST
AVAILABLE NOW AT SILVER PUBLISHING
Detective Max Bowman is hunting a serial killer terrorizing the city, who leaves victims drained of blood. No fingerprints, no clues, no ideas. Only a mysterious inscription carved into each body.
Frustrated with the lack of progress, Max takes a break in a local pub. Attacked by the attractive man buying him drinks, he is left for dead in the alley behind the bar.
Waking up in Carter Gray's bed was the last thing he expected. Who was this mysterious man? What was his dark secret? Why does he make Max tremble with anticipation every time their eyes meet?
It becomes apparent that Carter is the only one with the 'expertise' to help him find the killer. But is his attraction to Carter clouding his judgment and is he refusing to acknowledge that the killer may well be Carter himself?
