P.J. Schnyder's Blog, page 25

Guest Post: Yvonne Nicolas

Today I've got the lovely Yvonne Nicolas as a guest. She's a writer of steamy erotic romance and deliciously dark urban fantasy.  She is the author of the hot Black Rayne Silent Screams, available at Red Rose Publishing.

She's got a special treat for us today. Enjoy!

***

Hello fellow readers and authors. Instead of writing a passage about myself and how I came to be a writer, I decided to do something a little different. Upon meeting the talented PJ, I was compelled to write a special short story for her blog. Well, it started out short and grew into something bigger. *snicker*Hey, can't help myself. If I can't do it big, I don't do it at all. ;o)

For those of you who have read Black Rayne Silent Screams, this is the first chapter of an extended story to the Dragon Queen series, titled Blood in the Wind, which will be released at Red Rose Publishing. It is about the female Hunter, Joan "Havoc" Dawson and her stumble upon a dark secret in the supernatural world while out hunting for death walkers. I love this character because Havoc mirrors the personality of one of my cousins. A soldier in the military arm forces and a natural born badass, she is one of my favorite people in the world. *grin* I'm sure she'll get a kick out of reading this.

PJ, thank you so much for featuring me on your blog. It is an honor. And also thank you for your patience. *giggle* I know this post was long overdue.

Love you boo and enjoy.

Blood in the Wind

By Yvonne Nicolas

Chapter 1 White Roses

Billowy clouds danced across the full, luminous moon in wooing manner.

Havoc watched the distant exchange, eager for the peacefulness that usually claimed her when she laid sights on a full moon. The sweet tranquility eluded her tonight, but interestingly enough, the glare of the lunar orb expanded her life force and heightened her spiritual energy, which pulsated in unison with the beat of her heart. From the core of her, the inexplicable swell of power darted through her limbs in blossoming increments.

It momentarily made her head light. Whew!

It was so heady, delightful even and invigorating, but she couldn't afford to let it consume her, nor waste thoughts on how or why it occurred. No time for that. Not tonight.

Death was in the air. She could feel it in her bones, smell it in the chilly breeze.

Posted in the shadows, near a sleazy motel, in the red light district, Havoc shook the intrusive feeling out of her head and flipped the kickstand down with the heel of her boot. She crouched low on her prized black Ducati she'd named Razor, and opened her senses to any and everything riding the airwaves. Nothing but the sounds of the street walkers clacking across the pavement in their high stilettos behind the growls of car engines reached her ears.

Frustrated, she sat back on the saddle and planted her feet on the ground, cradling Razor between her thighs. Taking in the scene, she couldn't tell where it was, but instinctively knew it was in the area, creeping.

Crap, she should've fused with a sensor Andausian before she left headquarters. It would've made things easier. Instead of waiting for the beast to rear its ugly head, she'd be able to sniff out its exact location.

Oh well… Looked like she would be forced to put her natural hunting skills to work. Either way the demon was going down.

She fixed a narrowed glare directly across the street. Somewhere behind the large abandoned gray building, she suspected it lurked in the shadows. Hell, it probably already sensed her presence.

Good. Let the game begin.

Briefly, she directed her attention to the brunette who leisurely strutted by with a chubby middle-aged john on her arm. She took him into one of the far corners of the building, squatted before him, lifted his gut and unzipped his fly. It was evident she had a hard time getting at his penis, but she didn't let his extra stomachs stop her.

Go 'head, girl, make that money.

Giggling under her breath, Havoc activated the thermal sensors on the goggles that nearly covered the whole top half of her face. The bright reddish forms of the prostitutes swaggered back and forth along the outskirts of the busy street, but no cool, bluish purple forms signified the presence of the walking dead.

The harsh breaths and audible suckling from the pair in the corner washed into the background. Her senses were actively searching for the preternatural.

"Come on out demon," she whispered.

Suddenly, Cain's deep voice flitted across her mind in urgency, jarring her. "Havoc, whacha doing?"

"Why?" she snapped.

"Whoa, what's with the 'tude girl? I thought we had a good time last night."

She snorted. Men. In their minds sex fixed everything.

She and Cain had been arguing for months now. As her man, Cain had the natural instinct to protect her, but now that women her age were disappearing all over the world without a trace, he was ridiculously vigilant. Yeah, she loved him and appreciated his concern, but damn, she didn't care to be smothered, or put on lock down. She had enough of that crap with her brother before he joined the military.

Sights locked on the dark, dingy building across the way, she retrieved a cigarette and lighter from the inside pocket of her trench. Carefully, she lit it within her cupped hand and took in a long, generous draw. Behind this building was the beginning of a faintly lit neighborhood. Affordable housing for the poor. It was a great feeding ground for the damned, because no one truly cared if a few hookers and poor people turned up dead, missing a few vital pints of their blood supply.

No one ever cared, but her.

As she inhaled deeply from the leaf wrapped ciggy, the heady smoke sailed through her system, calming her frazzled nerves. She closed her eyes for a second and hummed out a sigh. The knot left her brow. Her limbs relaxed, but her senses remained alert.

Something to her left fluttered with the gust of wind. Propped against the flickering street lamp was a small glass vase holding a bouquet of white roses. A wry smirk curled her lips. Her brother, Andre, also known as, Steel the captain of the black opts Hunter team Sector twelve, had been here recently. He knew their sister Angela had loved white roses since she was a little girl.

"Havoc…?"

Slightly annoyed with the sound of Cain's voice, Havoc took another puff then blew a stream of smoke out one side of her mouth. "Whadda you want, Cain? I'm busy."

"Doing?"

She didn't bother to answer. He really had forgotten.

This morning, she'd asked him to come out hunting with her, just she and him, without the team. But he declined. Said he had this to do and that to do… She should've known right then and there he hadn't realized what day it was, or he would surely be there with her patrolling the area for vampires to kill. Even with that being the case, she would find it difficult to forgive him for forgetting this one special day.

"At least tell me why I'm in the dog house, babe. Is it because of this morning? You know I love hunting with you, but I had?"

"I don't have time for this. I have a mark in sight, well not really in sight yet, but I know it's there. I'm gonna take this."

"Naw girl, get yo bad ass back here to the base. That's an order."

"And let my mark walk? I don't think so."

"Havoc, this is important! I just got word from Steel. Sector twelve is headed to Japan. He couldn't give me details on the mission, but I have a feeling something's 'bout to go down. Something huge. He didn't request it, but I think…I think we need to be ready to back his team up. As a matter of fact, we should gear up and head to Japan." He paused then finished with a whisper,

"Something just doesn't feel right. Whatever they're out there for has something to do with the disappearances, all those girls…I feel it…"

He sounded so distant, lost in his thoughts.

Usually, she would jump at the chance to assist her brother. But this had to be done first. She needed this kill, badly, and she didn't expect him to understand. "A'ight, be there in ten," she lied, dismounting, allowing her metal monster to rest on the kickstand.

"Cool. We'll be waiting."

She pushed her goggles on top of her head then froze.

Something from the depths of neighborhood afar called to her soul. It was a dark energy, an immensely strong force that surrounded her in the form of black mist. She took hesitant steps back and it followed her. Her heart took on a rapid beat. This foreign energy seduced her being and lapped at her spiritual powers like a thirsty dog. It was overwhelming to her senses, yet almost orgasmic to her womanhood. The sensation left her trembling and eager to meet the call.

Briefly, she closed her eyes and sucked in a shuddering breath. Clutching at her coat, she attempted to shake the powerful ripples drifting up and down her body. Her breathing became laborious. Vibrations of her force spiraled down to her fingertips. She squeezed her hands into fist and attempted to suppress the involuntary release of her energy. It took a few seconds for the feeling subside. However, the frantic pounding beneath her chest remained.

Hot damn! My lucky night.

Too restrain the excitement flittering in her belly was impossible. Only one creature was brave enough to call out a powerful Andausian to battle, a Hunter at that.

There was a master vamp in the midst.

"I'll be right there," she cooed as if speaking to a lover.

From the side compartment of Razor, she retrieved her sword and attached the scabbard of it to the leather belt holster. Cigarette hanging loosely from the corner of her mouth, she slid the leather trench from her shoulder and tossed it over the seat. Clad in a skintight body suit, steel toed leather boots, a utility belt around her curvy hips, and a semi-auto pistol strapped to each thigh, she was prepared, anxious even, to make a dust pile out of the death walker waiting patiently for her to join it in the darkness.

She kissed the crucifix hanging around her neck and stuffed it in her collar then raked a hand through her new short, pink do. The corner of her lips pulled back into a smile. Every year she made a radical change to her hair…just because she could. Last year, it was down her back and she'd dyed it purple, the year before it was ice blonde braids; this year, it's short and pink to match her outlandish nature. She giggled to herself. Not many black chicks walking around with pink hair, which was why she did it. This drove Cain bananas, but it was her hair, and she'd do as she damn well pleased with it.

Havoc buckled the belt of her sword holster diagonally across the cleft of her breasts, so the blade was slanted along her back. She reached over her head to grab the handle, to make sure it was in the right spot for swift retrieval. Perfect.

"How long are you gonna stand back there staring at my ass, pimptress Kira?" she murmured, flicking the cigarette butt away.

An airy giggle drew closer, along with the click clack of thin heeled pumps. Soon, Kira was at her side, fluffing her large, curly blonde hair.

Baby blue was her color tonight. It covered her from head to toe. The sung dress neglecting to conceal her bubble butt, her thigh high stockings, her silky scarf, even her pumps sparkled in blue.

"Feeling blue today, Kira?" Havoc quipped with a smirk.

"Feeling pink today, Joan," she countered on a snort. "I like this new do, for real, girl." She reached up and rustled Havoc's hair. "It suits you. Looks good with your honey complexion."

Grinning, Havoc swept the bang back from her forehead. "Thanks boo."

Toying with the end of her scarf, Kira nibbled on her lower lip as the bright smile gradually melted from her pretty face. Nervousness clouded her visage. "What are you doing out here all geared up?"

She slid her arms back into her trench, shrugged it up on her shoulders and popped the collar up. "You have to ask?"

"No. I know what day it is. Me and the girls had a moment of silence tonight. We even said a short prayer. Of course I don't think God heard us. He doesn't hear our kind."

"Ay, watch your mouth. You know betta than to talk that foolishness around me," Havoc snapped, casting a sidelong glare at her. "God hears everyone."

"Mm-hm, that's what Angie used to say. It's been two years since her death, but it feels like just yesterday." Kira paused to blinked back tears. "Andre was out here two days ago."

"Yeah, I see." She threw curt glance at the roses. "He had to come early. I just found out he's been sent to Japan…"

She stifled back a groan. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach at the revelation of her spoken words. Why hadn't Steel confided in her about his mission? He had told her about all the other unsanctioned missions in the past, no matter how top secret they were. So focused on the impending battle, she hadn't paid attention to what aroused concern in Cain's mind during their last conversation.

What was going on in Japan? And was Cain's suspicions right on target…Did the mission have anything to do with the rash of disappearances of young girls that's been sweeping the world?

Something inside told her it did.

"On one of those secret missions again?" Kira's voice snapped her out of her private thoughts. "I get so nervous when he leaves." Her doe blue eyes shifting around, she fidgeted with her scarf. "Just want him to come back safely, ya know."

Havoc grabbed her sawed off shotgun and started loading UV capsules. "He always does," she muttered, more for her own uncertainties than Kira's. "As long as Spade and Quest are with him, he'll be alright."

"Uh-huh, listen, uhm, I know this is the anniversary of her death and e'erything, but uhh, there's nothing going on here. Nothing for you to be loading guns for. You should leave, you got my girls all nervous. The money gets short and bad shit happens when you come around."

Havoc nodded toward the pair in the shadows. Straightening her dress, the prostitute stood and sauntered past them with her satisfied client on her heels.

"Doesn't look that way to me," Havoc sung in a humorous under tone. "My presence didn't bother her at all. Homegirl did her thang. You should give her a raise," she bantered on a snicker.

"Well, you…you're making me nervous, girl. There's nothing here for you. You should come back another time, like maybe?"

"Yeah, heard you the first time, Kira." Suddenly irritated by her old friend's persistent attempt to get rid of her, Havoc cut a narrowed eye her way. "Know what I don't get. Why the hell would ya'll wanna continue to work this street after what happened to Angela?"

Her eyes glazed over in wetness, Kira shuffled back from her as if the question had scarred her. "What are we supposed to do, Joan? They're gonna be everywhere we go. A lot of my girls have mouths to feed and this is all we know."

"Right…" Havoc locked steady eyes on Kira and studied her intensely. "Damn, I must be slipping. Can't believe I didn't pick up on this sooner."

"Pick up on what?" she asked, her voice wavering and her heels sliding back on the concrete. "What are you talking about?"

Havoc sprung into Kira's path before she could scurry out of her reach and grabbed her scarf. "The smell of blood in the wind."

Sluggish in her attempt to flee, Kira skipped back and reached up to keep the scarf in its rightful place. "No, don't…"

But Havoc had already stripped it from her neck. "Aw Kira…" she whimpered.

Riddled all up and down her jugular were hideous bite marks surrounded by black and blue bruises. Some were fresh, while most were old and clearly infected. White puss and dark blood leaked out of festering wounds as Kira tried to cover them with her hands.

The damned monster didn't even have the decency to close the puncture marks. One swipe of the tongue after feeding, that's all it took to keep its blood supply healthy. Either it didn't know or it just didn't give a fuck.

Tears streaming down her face, Kira snatched the scarf back. "Why did you hafta do that?"

"God Kira, look at this crap! Your neck looks like spoiled hamburger meat. It's infected bad. Exactly, how long have you been letting that thing chew on your fucking neck?" Havoc hissed through clenched teeth, failing to restrain her own water shed. She grabbed Kira's chin and lifted her head to examine her gnawed on neckline. "You could die from these."

Kira smacked her hand away. "What do you want me to do, Joan? I had no choice?"

"For God's sake, you could've called me! After the first attack…Cain and I could've taken care of this before it went this far!"

Dilated pupils. A human's pupils remained expanded days after they are charmed by a vampire. It's a telltale sign the human's cerebral waves had been tampered with, and they had no control over their actions, but Kira's eyes weren't dilated in the slightest, which suggested she'd bared her throat by her own free will.

Of course after the first attack, the vamp probably didn't have to do much for Kira to come back for another bite. Within the venom of a demon's fangs was an addictive chemical the scientist called Dyrosimine. Honestly, it sounded like the brand of a cough syrup, but that's the name the scientists went with. Once it got into the system, you were officially the vamp's bitch for the rest of your life. The only way out of the addiction was death, for you, or the bloodsucker.

Frantically wrapping the scrap back around her neck and peering around with wide eyes, Kira whispered, "I know you feel like this is your job as a Hunter, but we have to face reality, you can't protect us from all of?"

"Shaddup, just shaddup!"

Havoc buried her face in her hands. Her heart tightened. Her head pounded. Her eyes burned. Anger and hatred rose within her like a cat-five hurricane. She wanted to fucking scream at the top of her lungs. Last time she felt this way, she was staring down at her sister's pale, lifeless body.

"How… how could you be so stupid?" she whimpered, sniffing back tears.

"It's a compromise that saves our lives, Joan," Kira rushed out in a panic. "If…if me and the girls give a little blood here and there then they won't kill us."

"Are you insane?! They are killing you, slowly?wait?they?!" Of course… "How many are there?"

Without waiting for an answer, Havoc slid her shot gun back into the side saddle holster, climbed onto her bike and flipped her goggles over her eyes. Enough waiting.

"Get your girls somewhere safe. I'm 'bout to set it off in this piece."

"Wait." Kira rushed forward to grab her arm. "Don't, please, don't go in there, Joan, you don't understand?"

"Step back away from my bike, Kira," she all but growled. "After I'm done with this mess, I'm dragging you and your girls, one by one, to our medic…see if he can't fix the damage those monsters have made."

Razor roared to life beneath her. She put her baby in gear and shot across the busy street, not the least bit concerned with the on-coming traffic. Cars and trucks honked and screeched as she cleared six lanes. She slowed when she rode past the dingy building that was once a walk-in clinic. Sitting in a patch of darkness between the abandon building and a house was a dumpster. There was movement on the hidden side of the dumpster and heavy breathing.

Havoc adjusted the thermal frequency dial on her goggles for short range. Two writhing bodies came into focus. Accentuated in a fading reddish orange, a body was pinned against building, jerking up and down the rough surface of the wall. Rocking its hips in a rapid pace, a blue colored figure pounded into the other figure with vicious thrusts.

Havoc whipped her bike around and beamed the headlight into the dirty recess.

Hissing, the vamp threw his forearm up over his eyes and stumbled back into the adjacent wall. As he folded his body into a ball, the victim, who Havoc suspected was one of Kira's girls, feebly slumped to the ground and disappeared behind the dumpster.

This vamp wasn't the master she felt earlier. Damn. He was a level three at best. First clue, a little artificial light wouldn't have a master, or level one vampire for that matter, running for cover. Second clue, his aura was a wavering thin line of red, giving away his nature and rank in the vamp world. He was freshly made, most likely only a few days old.

To dust him out would be all too easy, but she wouldn't be hasty. He may prove to be useful.

She dimmed her bike's high beams to soft glow, dropped her kick stand and swung her leg from over the seat. "Sup?" She pushed the goggles up and offered a sly smile.

Glowing eyes peered over his arm at her. From his cowering position, he slowly stood. As if to show off his goods, he turned to face her with his long, stiff cock dangling from the unzipped slit in his pants.

No way to deny it or not look at it. It was a highly impressive piece of meat.

"Hey boo," he greeted as he stuffed his anaconda away.

She removed her leather gloves, stuck them into the right pocket of her coat then reached into the left pocket and found a pair of silver spiked knuckles.

Not once taking his gaze off her, he propped against the wall and crossed his ankles in a casual manner. His hair braided back in cornrows and his brown skin unnaturally pale even in the dim light, he sported a Roca Wear shirt and loose fitting jeans. He was smooth, kind of cute too. Fresh streams of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth?the donation from the hooker slumped behind the dumpster no doubt.

"What you looking for baby?"

"You." Smiling, she slid her fingers into the rings of the weighty weapons and closed her hands into fists. "Thought you'll be willing to help me with something."

"Yeah?" He pushed off the wall and ambled toward her, swiping at the traces of blood on his lips with a lengthy tongue. "You a Hunter?"

She rolled her eyes and pushed air sharply through her teeth. "Naw, I just like to dress like this for fun."

Out of arm's reach, he stopped and harped out in laughter. "A'ight now. Look at you girl! All sexy and shit in your cat suit and trench coat! You look like the female version of Blade. All you need is a pair of fangs and you'll be on point."

Jaw clenched, she asked, "Where's your master?"

"Now why would you wanna know that? Thinking of joining our crew?" He dared a step closer. "Listen baby, how 'bout we bury the bad blood between our kind and?"

"How many vamps are hiding out in this neighborhood?"

The smug grin melted from his face. "You look like a reasonable chick, someone that knows when they're out powered." He flashed a glimpse of fang. "I don't wanna hurt you?"

"Hurt me?" she chirped in amusement. Delusional fool! This low rank vamp actually thought he was at the same footing as her. "You got about two seconds to answer my questions."

His eyes glimmered with malice then there came a soothing caress to her psyche. "This is gonna go my way, whether you want it to or not, baby. Now, I want you to take off all of those weapons and get buck naked right now." Luminous eyes boring into hers, he eased in on her, slipped a hand beneath her coat and around her waist to cup her ass. "Mmm yeah, then I'm gonna bend your sexy ass over that bike and fuck the shit out of you. Got that?"

Her body went completely lax against him. "Yes."

"Good," he drawled. "But before that, I wanna get a little taste of that sweet Hunter's blood."

Surrendering to the desire of his dark lust, she folded her coat's collar down, slipped a finger beneath the elastic fabric that covered her neck and pulled on it to bare her throat. Saliva dripping from his lips, he stretched his mouth open to take a bite.

"Such a damn fool," she snorted before smashing her spiked knuckles into the side of his face.

Blood splattered. The sonic force of her hit sent his body slamming into the cinder block wall. A large crumbling dent formed where he landed. Not giving him time to recover, she pounced on him.

With swiftness, she conjured two silver stakes from her utility belt and impaled them through his wrists, pinning him to the ground.

"This is gonna go my way, whether you want it to or not, muthafucka," she growled.

Crying out in agony, he bucked wildly beneath her. She held her thighs firm around his waist to lock him in place. From the assault of the silver, the repulsive scent and sound of his simmering flesh wafted into the air. It tapped at her gag reflexes, but she resisted the urge vomit up her last meal.

"Hey idiot, guess your master didn't tell you. Ya need a few more decades on you before you can charm a top level Hunter."

"Fuck you, bitch!" he spat.

"Oh, I got yo bitch right here."

She brought the backside of her hand across the unmarred side of his face. His head whipped to the side. An audible crunch of bone shattering resounded in the air. A chunk of his flesh flew across the alleyway and splattered into the wall.

With a section of his bloody skull exposed, bottom jaw hanging slack and his eye popped out of the socket, his screams grew louder. Despite his agony, his flesh had already begun to reform.

Struggling to stay on her feet, the vampire's victim stumbled from behind the dumpster, her hand over her neck and one of her shoes missing. "Wha?What happened?" she asked, holding herself up on the wall.

"Did you get your money from this nasty ass vamp?" Havoc inquired without taking her eyes off the writhing vampire beneath her.

"I think, no, I don't know," the girl replied, her words slurred.

Havoc dug into his pocket, took out all the money he had and offered it to her.

The woman was discombobulated and weakened by a lack of blood, but she didn't hesitate to hobble over to get that money.

"A'ight, get on outta here. Go find Kira."

Without another word, the woman scrambled, well more like limped out of the alleyway.

"Now, do you remember what I asked?" She glared down at the vamp, speaking in a dispassionate monotone. "Or should I plunge a stake through your dick?"

"Am erl!" he shrilled, his broken bottom jaw and tongue flapping in the wind. "Ha I ose oo alk wih ah aw ike ish?"

Oh right. She couldn't expect many answers out of him with his jaw disconnected. Snickering, she grabbed his chin and snapped it back in place. His supernatural joints instantly fused with the mouth bone to make the framework of jaw workable again.

"Talk," she commanded.

Glowering up at her, he wound his jaw around and grumbled, "My eye."

Attached to nerves and veins, the eyeball dangled across his face. Dark blood oozed out of the open socket. She clasped the eyeball with her thumb and forefinger, prepared to put it back in, but though better of it. With the quick jerk of her hand, she severed it from its attachments.

He bawled out, "Ay what the fuck!" He tried to lurch up out of the restraints and tore a bigger hole in his wrists. "F-u-u-u-ck!"

"I'm running out of patience, vampire. Now tell me…"

A couple of fast approaching beings jarred her. She slipped a hand over the vampire's throat and pressed her thumb against his windpipe, a silent warning to keep his mouth shut. Not like he would say anything anyway. He seemed too consumed by his pain to warn his vampire buddies she was there to kill them all.

Crouched over him with her other hand curved over her pistol, she waited.

The two entities zipped around the corner, stared down at her then busted out in laughter. The tiny daggers beneath their lips glistened in the moonlight. "Yo bro, she switched the tables on you, huh?" one joked as they sauntered toward her. "Gotta love a woman who takes charge. Are you new here, shawty? Never seen you before."

"Damn, she's fine. Mind if we get a little ta…" Unnatural eye wide as saucers, the vampires stopped in their tracks. "Oh shit, she's a Hu?"

A one-inch UV capsule shot down the barrel of her gun and lodged into his dead heart. It was there the liquid?poisonous to vampires?was released. UV light expelled from his mouth, eyes and ears in a brilliant display of blue light. As he released a blood gurgling scream, his eyeballs melted in their sockets and his flesh liquefied to slide right from his skeletal frame. Before he could dissolve into a puddle of mush and bones, she whipped the barrel of her gun toward the other one, but he vanished before she could get a shot off.

"Crap."

She rose to her feet and slid her glock back into its holster. The creature circled her in flashing movements, never staying in one place longer than a split second, which made it impossible to pinpoint his location. Yet, another reason why she should've fused with a sensor.

His taunting laughter echoed all around her. Another low-level idiot.

She reached back over her head and wrapped her fingers firmly around the handle of her sword. The fact he used this drifting technique to confuse her suggested he wouldn't be man enough to come at her head on. So his attack would most likely come from behind.

Fucking coward.

Just as she predicted, he rushed her from behind and yanked on her coat to get at her throat. She was pulled her out of her battle stance. Swift to catch her balance, she threw an elbow back, smashing him in the face. Snarling, he leaped back then lunged at her for a counter attack.

Sword drawn, she crouched low and sent her blade sweeping through his midsection. A sharp ching rung out, followed by his howl of pain. A spray of blood showered her. Sliced in two, the halves of his body crumbled to the ground. His flesh crinkled and faded to a ghastly gray then he became ashes on the gusts of wind.

Returning her sword to its sheath, she knelt next to the restrained vampire. He had drifted into a semi-conscious state, probably due to the pain. She slapped his face until his eye opened and he jerked back to consciousness.

"Now where were we? Oh right. You were gonna tell me about your master."

"Damn girl, why you so violent?" he grumbled feebly.

Spikes down, she held her closed fist over his genitals. "Talk, now."

"Look, it wasn't my master. It was my master's master who took over this area. All adults have been made into vampires, but the kids…"

He didn't have to finish. She already knew the horrid truth. "They're feeding on them," she growled through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, but not me though." His lips arched in a crooked smile. "Kids don't do it for me. I get my fill on the hoes."

"Uh-huh, so I'm looking at, what, maybe a hundred vamps?" she muttered more to herself.

This fool had the nerve to chuckle. "A little more than that, shawty. Some of 'em are out hunting now, but they don't go too far. She has rules. Don't kill within the neighborhood; just take a little at a time to keep the prey alive, she says. A lot of 'em don't like that rule. They'd rather take every last drop, so they go elsewhere to hunt. Can't blame them for that. It gets sweeter the closer to death they become."

So she, this vamptress, had created a coven. And yet, somehow, this had slipped under the radar and had gone unnoticed by the Hunters.

What was truly intriguing about this particular situation was vampires didn't usually remain in large covens, or gathered in packs like shifters. They were loners by nature, not the family types.

Above all else, master vamps enjoyed the finer things in life. Big money, luxurious houses, extravagant clothing. Creatures who could charm their way into wealthy living did not choose poverty as a cover, under any circumstances. So why would a master vamp choose a poor neighborhood as a coven base?

"What's with this area? Why here?"

"I dunno. I think maybe it has something to do with the liquid mirror."

"What liquid mirror?" She leaned in close to him and glared into his glimmering eye. "Take me to it and I may spare your life, well what's left of it, anyway."

"I can't," he growled. "I don't know where it is. I just know of it."

"Then you are no more use to me."

Havoc rose to her feet and stared down at the young vamp as he shivered in his pale skin. This was quite a dilemma. Either call for help, or try to tackle this on her own. Over a hundred vampires to kill…Naw, this was too damn good to share.

She retracted the bloody pikes from the vampire's wrists, drawing two sharp yowls out of him. Returning the stakes to her belt, she headed for her bike.

Behind her, the vampire sprung to his feet. Most likely, he had already healed from his injuries. The heat of his one-eyed stare simmered against her back as she readied herself for a perimeter run around the neighborhood. Had to make quick work of this.

"So that's it?" the vampire asked. "You?you're not gonna kill me?"

With her back turned to him, she flipped the collar up on her trench and fumbled around in her pocket for a cigarette. "Uh-huh, just waiting for you to…"

The awareness of the pending attack snapped her attention over her shoulder. Eyes blazing bright red, he barreled straight at her. She whipped around and landed a punch straight to his face. The spikes on her knuckles plowed through flesh and bone. A loud crack echoed through the air. He flew back and landed on his feet, in a crouched position on the side of the building.

Fangs bared, he came at her again. A tear ripped down the building from his furious force as he pushed off the wall.

Palm out, Havoc raised her hand. The strength of her power spiraled within the pit of her stomach then darted through her arm. Her force bubbled up from her palm to form a large sphere filled with sonic vibrations.

In midair, the vampire tried to change direction once he realized he was about to be hit with a high frequency sound wave. But no matter how fast he moved, he couldn't avoid this.

It came out as a beautiful array of bluish white light and a stream of sound only the supernatural could hear. Everything in its path was vaporized, including a portion of the abandoned building's roof.

"…do something stupid," she finished on sigh as the ash remains of the creature rained down on her. "They always do."

"Havoc, we just felt your spiritual release! What the hell is going on out there?!" Cain bellowed through the mental link. "Where are you?!"

Sixteen minutes and thirty nine-seconds. That's how long it took for the team to gear up, pile into the hummer and hit the site. More than enough time to take out a few dozen vamps. Regarding the simmering arc she left on the building with a smirk, she climbed onto her trusty metal horse then started down the dark, eerie street.

Copyright © Yvonne Nicolas 2010

Sci Fi and Steampunk events

What with all the NaNoWriMo and exciting release news for Evie's Gift, I never did much of a con report for PhilCon.

This year's PhilCon kept me insanely busy with Steph "Flash" Burke and D Renee Bagby, hopping from panel to panel and generally learning the in and outs of being an author at this small, but long running sci fi convention. Having Flash and Renee as house guests was a pleasure -> I had people to feed and I do love to cook! My only regret might be that I couldn't cook throughout the whole weekend for us all. I'd wanted to make bento boxes and everything, but our schedules were too tight.

Flash also took the time and focused her considerable talent to make us all steampunk wind up doll costumes for the Masquerade.  Robert Roman stepped up to play our mad scientist creator and Victim. Bwa ha ha ha ha!

If you've never been to a con, I recommend going if only for the people watching. I met some great personalities at PhilCon and made new friends. I also got to play with light sabers.

As a follow up to PhilCon, several new friends invited me to Dorian's Parlor.  This monthly steampunk event in the heart of Philly's theater area dazzled with vintage glamour and steampunk fashion. I met up with new friends, drooled over fabulous steampunk merchandise and ended up unlaced from my own corset to be strapped into a Victorian style corset. (And we know how much I love corsets!)

Of course, it was the perfect place to wear my lovely hat and test drive my new bustle skirt. The outfit might have been low on accessories, but it met with pretty decent success.

Excuse me for a bit of a fan girl moment. *squee!* Kyle Cassidy attended with the lovely TrillianStars and recognized me, introduced me and in general made me feel very welcome.  Also, JR Blackwell spoke to me for a bit on various topics with her husband, Jared Axelrod (I'd like to point out that if you look up 'steampunk' in Wikipedia – that's him in the picture, taken by Kyle). I admire them all very much, so having them remember me and be so open and friendly made my night.

Some of you might wonder, "PJ, do you Ever wear normal street clothes?!?"

The answer: Yes. Sometimes. Maybe. >_>

Holiday Hustle, Bustle and Fun

'Tis the season, my friends. Amongst all the hustle and bustle, I hope you'll take some time for yourselves. Let loose, get wild, and generally spoil yourself. I know I had fun this past weekend with Romancia Love. We went on several adventures and encountered many characters, including some extremely hot firemen out to save the day and these rogue Santa Claus boys.

Never hurts to find a little heat in the cold, cold winter season.

For example, join us next week for Holiday Story Time. Several authors from Decadent Publishing will be presenting readings from our new holiday releases. Come watch, get to know us, get a taste of our delicious holiday stories.

The readings will be going up the week of December 13 through 17.

Here's the schedule:

Mon 13th-> Robert C Roman, A Christmas Evening Vigil

Tue 14th -> Deanna Wadsworth, Secret Santa

Wed 15th-> PJ Schnyder, Evie's Gift

Thu 16th -> Seleste deLaney, The Ghost of Vampire Present

Fri 17th -> Clarissa Yip, Snowy Encounters

While you're watching the videos, and enjoying our stories, keep an eye out for the Decadent Publishing Logo.  When you spot it, email the author and tell them where you spotted it.  Each of us will be picking eagle-eyed fans at random to receive a free ecopy of our book.

Plus, if you watch all five videos carefully and spot the Tilvee or Book Matrix Media logo, you could win a special gift package of Tilvee eco-friendly skin care products or a gift certificate from Book Matrix Media. Just spot the logo and email me at pjschnyder (at) gmail (dot) com.

But in the meantime, anyone wanna leave a comment and tell me which Santa-boy is your fav?

Release Day: Evie's Gift

Just in time for the holidays, Evie's Gift releases today at Decadent Publishing!

Stubborn Evie is reluctant to play the roll of a proper lady by English standards, but she has little choice. Traveling to London for her first season, she faces the threat of an enemy submarine bent on destroying the airship carrying her across the ocean. Once she steps forward to help, her knowledge is questioned by the captain, placing her special gift in danger.

As a woman whose passion pushes her toward engineering and mechanical designs, her curious nature risks exposing her uncanny talents. Will this Christmas season allow her to keep her secrets? Or will her gift be revealed too soon?

I'm so excited to add a steampunk story to my titles. It is completely set apart from the Terra's Guardians series, with a whole new set of characters and a completely different world to explore.

And of course, it's the holidays. To add to the festivities, I'd like to run a contest for my readers. Once you've read Evie's Gift, post your favorite line from the story to my Facebook page or comment here on this blog post for a chance to win a copy of a special concept sketch of one of the characters.

The contest will close at 11:59pm on December 24th. I'll announce the winner Christmas Day.

I hope you'll enjoy Evie's Gift, and enter win an additional gift for the holidays.

from eBook to Print

Heart's Sentinel is going to print very soon. *happy dance*

As part of the preparations for the print version, we had to make quite a few decisions and also update a few things:

Blurb

I took the opportunity to update the blurb, tweaking it just a bit for the back cover of Heart's Sentinel

What else goes on the back cover?

There's a couple of options here. I looked at the back covers of many of my favorite novels in my home library to decide what I'd like for Heart's Sentinel.

Some books have log lines or recommendations from other authors in the same genre. Personally, I decided to request including a snippet from the actual story to give the back cover blurb a little extra voice.

Typos!

My editor for Heart's Sentinel was incredible. Have no doubts about it. She taught me so many things about my writing and polished Heart's Sentinel to a beautiful piece of paranormal romance. But no matter how many times we all looked at the manuscript, a few typos did slip through. On this round, we're taking a fresh look at the galley so we can catch those and fix them.

Dedication and Intro pages

Again, I went to the books in my home library to see how these were done. I did update the dedication, changing it for the print version. I also hope to add a "For my readers…" to the dedication page.

Plus, there's the wonderful reviews given for Heart's Sentinel. Some books include a page or two sharing praise for the book or a snippet of what reviewers have said about the story. I'd like to do the same.

And much, much more…

Of course, there's format changes and fun when going to print. Dara England designed a gorgeous new cover in honor of the print version as well. After all, the cover art has to extend across the whole front and back rather than the "front cover" you see for eBooks. I'm working hard to make sure the changes necessary are turned around in good time and the lovely people at Decadent Publishing have been very patient.

Win a copy of Heart's Sentinel!

While we wait for the print release, come join me on Sunday, November 28th from 12-3pm PST in a chat with Kelly Demonlover for a chance to win an ecopy of Heart's Sentinel. How do you win an ecopy?

RSVP for the event by leaving a comment at Kelly's review of the book including your email in the comment section & join us on Sunday to comment and ask me a question.

Happy Thanksgiving

Thank you to all my readers, fellow writers, editors and publishers.

We now return you to your feast-induced food coma with a message from Super Stealthy Ninja Kitty:

Immerse yourself…

Psst. I got nothing. So. Distraction ->

Evie's Gift is releasing soon from Decadent Publishing.

PJ Interviews Robert C Roman

photo by PJ Schnyder

Today, I'm interviewing my big brother, Robert C Roman.  He has called himself the Mycroft to my Sherlock in the past, which would make me a rather bohemian …male. O.o

Erm, I must agree on a different aspect of Mycroft to Sherlock. He is a much larger and stouter man than I, possessed of great wit and a talent for making his reader ask, "wtf?!?" in the niftiest of ways. We'll have a contest at the end of the interview for a chance to win one of his ebooks, so get to know him!

Plus, his quirky fun story, Fae Eye for the Golem Guy is November's Read for a Cure book at Decadent Publishing. Go, buy Fae Eye, and know that all publishing profits go to the Relay for Life.

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Hey there, big brother, and thank you for stepping up to the interview platform. Those of us following your recent interviews know that Fae Eye for the Golem Guy was inspired during a brainstorming discussion with fellow author and mutual friend, Dana Marie Bell. My question is, what element came to mind first? The Fae Eye or the Golem Guy?

Hallo Sis. Actually, the title sort of happened all at once. We were talking about juxtaposing personal makeover shows with automotive makeover shows. The idea of Xhibit and a crew of mechanics going over some poor dude with rivet guns, electronics, and faux leather was too precious, and we started throwing mashup titles at the wall. Fae Eye for the Golem Guy was the one that stuck.

[image error]Similarly, we also know Road Mage was inspired by your commute for work. It is the first in the Urban Pandora series, from what I understand. What was the inspiration for the series name?

I've seen several takes on the Pandora legend. The better ones have to do with a repentant Pandora; after releasing evil into the world, Pandora quests to put the evil back in the box. I have one problem with those stories. A real hero Wouldn't Open The Box. So the protagonist is clueless at best or a bitch at worst. It's a Greek myth, which implies that both were probably true in the original story, but that doesn't somehow make it a good story. The fact that so many classic stories come to us from the ancient Greeks don't mean they were storytellers without peer; it means in the intervening three thousand years we've lost most of the slush-pile-wastebasket-fodder.

Except Pandora.

At any rate, I'm dissatisfied with the Repentant Pandora stories I've read, so I'm doing my own. Jason Rodriguez is the 'Pandora', and the 'Box' is Paul Dunn. Jason really didn't have much of a choice but to kill Paul, but in doing so he's let loose a whole bunch of nastiness, which he didn't know about in the first place. So… While the character of Jason still has human imperfections, complete sociopathy isn't one of them. He's an Urban character; he fits on highways and in row houses and around skyscrapers. So… Urban Pandora.

[image error]Can you tell us about your more recent story, The Strange Fate of Capricious Jones – OR – Birth of an Iron Angel? How DID your head transmute Lady Gaga to Steam Punk and what does Standardized Testing have to do with it?

I'm honestly not sure how my own creative process does what it does. I mean, Agatha and Penelope take stuff, mangle it, and shove it in my brain, but what they select and how they mangle it just happens at a level below conscious thought. I can tell you the bits and pieces I know about though.

Lady Gaga's Telephone was playing when I was thinking about Capricious. She's a planner. She wouldn't go up in an experimental aircraft without a parachute and some means of communication. When I thought about that, I thought about how someone would sabotage both. The parachute wasn't hard, but the crystal device was harder; it's not got any moving parts, and it's compact enough that sabotage would be obvious. That made me think about radio rooms and how you'd make sure someone didn't announce that they were plummeting to their death, especially when that's exactly why you had the device in the first place. That's when I heard the intro with the line "Hello, Hello, Baby" and the next bits. That spawned the idea of Cap's little girl being in the radio room. It really informed me about how much of a World Class Bastard David really is.

Regarding Standardized Testing, I was proctoring the HSPA when I first heard about a call for SteamPunk stories. I needed a name, and I was hearing some names over the loudspeaker. I misheard a few, and those misheard names led me to other names, and those led me to other names, and finally they led me to the character name "Capricious Fate Jones". Not sure HOW that name wound up attached to a character who is two parts Agatha Heterodyne, one part Grace Jones, one part Dolly Parton, and three parts Temperence Brennan, but it did.

Lucky little sister that I am, I've met your muses. Agatha and Penelope were introduced to me in a short story touching on incest (twin-cest?), naughty literary commentary and "Prose so Purple it out to be used by Behr as a dye" and I'm betting I know the beta reader who made the Purple Prose comment. If you could put faces to Agatha and Penelope, what would they look like?

Lucky me, THEY put faces on however and whenever they like. Half the time I don't know it's them until they open their mouths. Because then it's unmistakable. Agatha Steam Punk is the wild one, going on adventures and leaping into peril with eyes wide open. Auburn hair, brown / green hazel eyes, strong cheekbones and chin, small nosed. Curves. Penelope Gothic Horror is the proper one, stumbling into adventures because she's a complete bimbo. Strawberry blond hair, blue / black hazel eyes, aristocratic nose with refined features otherwise. Willowy.

You've had some experience collaborating with another author on a story. Would you co-write with someone again? What are some of the fun and/or frustrating facets to collaboration?

Sure I would. I have no real problems working with someone. Occasionally there is friction, but that's going to happen in any joint venture. The fun comes from having someone give immediate 'Oh YEAH!' feedback to your writing, even when it's half-done. The frustration comes when something you thought was uber-cool makes your co-author go "uh, what were you smoking when you wrote this gibberish?" Of course, there's also some issues with stylistic differences. If your style and the other authors are wildly different, it can make for difficulty selling the story. Both parts may be stellar, and they may work together well, but if an editor really lurves her some intellectual discourse and can't stand peppy zingers, or the other way round, they're going to nix the whole thing because of that.

Tell me a story, big brother. What's this about you wielding a hamster as a weapon of Doom?

Pfft. I once mentioned that with enough of anything, you can do anything. The immediate response was 'take over the world using nothing but hamsters'. I said 'ok, give me enough hamsters to consume all of the vegetable matter in Quebec in four hours'. Get a loan to open a chain of pet stores selling custom hamsters. Use that money to rent transport trucks and release enough to eliminate a ten mile radius around each major city in Quebec. The Canadians will provide transport and supplies out of a combination of gratitude and fear of reprisals. Now given transport, repeat the process, first with the countries in North Asia, then Eastern Europe, then North America, then Western Europe. Given the reproductive rates of hamsters, you can sacrifice the occasional 'example' territory and get them to reproduce enough to knock out the larger, better organized countries.

So, yeah. Death Hamsters. Not really different to normal hamsters.

Of course, the next statement was 'there aren't enough hamsters in the world to do that!' To which I replied 'saying that with enough of anything I can do anything does not imply that enough of your chosen substance exists'

In lieu of the usual speed round, I have a surprise just for you…

I'm scared now…

PJ's Strategy and Tactics:

You're blockaded in a storage room with sparkling vampires beating down the main door and coming up through the floor. You have a spork, a rubber ducky and Q tip. What's your weapon of choice?

The spork. Gotta be.

The rubber ducky has an appeal, but in its most effective form it's a one use item. Shove it into the mouth and it's hard to get out, depriving the sparkly vampire of his most important weapon, his Angsty Whine. Thing is, you can only stop one of them with that.

The Q Tip can do some awful things when applied in the proper manner ("Go for the eyes, Boo!"), but it has two disadvantages. First, most of them won't realize that you're aiming for their eyes with a ball of awful, scratchy fibers. Instead they'll think 'oh, a Q-Tip' and think 'soft and fluffy', by the time they're moaning and squinting their eyes shut you're already disabled by the endless whiny prattle about how immortality is a curse. Also, there's only so much TO a Q-Tip. After two or three it's worn down to a nigh useless unsweetened lollipop stick. Sure, you've got the other end, but if you've got more than six S-Vamps out there, you're toast.

Finally, the Spork. Like the Q-Tip, an eye weapon. Unlike the cotton-on-a-stick, it's bristling with pointy bits. As well, it has the spoon in it's heritage, which gives it some of the cultural baggage of cutting hearts out painfully AND the Tick's battlecry. The fork, of course, is the devil's main weapon, so you've got some threat ability from that.

Lunging at the Sparkly-Vamp's eyes with your Tick-blessed, devil-approved heart cutter is certain to get at least a blink response, probably even hands raised to block. While the eyes are closed and the hands are up, knee them in the sternum. Via the crotch. This has been proven to incapacitate even supernatural creatures. ("Wolfman has nards!") When they crumple forward, aim for the voicebox. With the eternal whine out of commission, they're mostly harmless.

Since the spork is a threat weapon, you're not going to wear it out. If one of the Vamps DOES maintain open eyes, they're going to have scooped eyeballs to worry about, which can be inserted orally to prevent the S Vamp's Death Kvetch. If they duck or do something else stupid, and the spork shatters, now you've got an Oz-Approved Shiv, and you can go all convict stabby on them.

So yeah. Gotta go with the Spork on this one.

You're leading your biology class in a dissection. A student decides to try out toad licking, and becomes zombified. How do you stem the zombified student and dissected frog invasion and get the maximum number of uninfected students out alive? into the streets of Camden…

Not as hard as it sounds, really. Step one is jumping on the front work table and kicking the fan out of the window. That will go right through the hornet nest outside. That will get the non-zombie students out of the room. With that many students out of the room, the halls will fill pretty quickly. Meanwhile inside the room pin the zombie with a work table and throw the locks on the window bars to prevent egress. On the way out of the door hit the 'call' button on the intercom, because that will get the zombies trying to get to the speaker, which is about ten feet off the ground.

Head across the hall to the courtyard, across the courtyard to the main entrance, hit the main office and tell Ms. Roman (no relation) there's a code Blue biohazard in the building. With the kids already in the halls, the building can be cleared in a matter of seconds.

The zombie frog(s) will be full of angry hornets. Since it has no teeth to tranmit zombie plague, and it can't keep the hornets contained, they'll keep getting out and stinging it, and it will eventually stop moving from the swelling. The student-zombies we'll have to find a containment method for. I'm thinking something like the rig at the end of Shaun of the Dead. At that point, if they're not already classified as a special ed students, we'll probably have to write them up individualized IEPs and 504 plans. Or edit the existing ones if they've got them.

See? No problem.

AI robots take over the world. Do you fight, submit to mechanical domination, or get off the planet?

That last is always the goal, isn't it? I mean, the fusion plant is unstable. We've known that for at least fifty years, but do we take the natural next steps and start working on evacuation plans? No, we screw around trying to sort out who is going to be captain of the Titanic. I mean, HELLO! Captain of the iceberg would at least last longer, if not by much. Silly humans.

At any rate, that aside, it really depends on the AI overlords. If they're matrix style robots, the backstory says they're fighting humans because we were absolute dicks. Practically the platonic ideal of richard-hood, in fact. With that in mind, I'm going to do some talking with them, pointing out that my hobby in life is to use mine, not be one. Since they seem to be intent on building big structures for which they have no practical use, powered by lots and lots of humans, I'm thinking we can work together and create massive human-spawning pools, and set the Matrix itself to 'seraglio' mode. At that point I'm pretty content, as long as the robots themselves start working on the whole 'unstable fusion engine / lifeboat' problem. A Niven's Puppeteer solution would be perfect, as it wouldn't require a seraglio simulation interruption.

If the AI are Terminator-style psychopaths, I'm thinking there's no choice but fight, at least until we take out Skynet. After that's done, a little judicious reprogramming might solve some of the problems humans have had. Put them in 'must be trusted' positions, with another terminator buddied up with them to make sure they're not subsequently reprogrammed. Honestly, though, if we're up to reprogramming them, I think we need to reprogram one with a Mr. Rogers protocol and send him back to Skynet. Seriously, he's got issues, and needs to spend some time in the Land of Make Believe learning manners.

LOL. Thank you, Bobby.

Okay, folks. In honor of Mycroft and Sherlock, I've got a contest for you.  Tell us your favorite mystery in comments for a chance to win not just an ecopy of Bob's Strange Fate of Capricious Jones but also a copy of my Red's Wolf. Just in time for the holidays.

And, stay tuned for a special holiday event involving holiday stories from Bobby and me as well as several other Decadent authors. Here's a sneak peak:

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Guest Post: Danielle La Paglia

This week's guest post is by one of my fellow Rebels from the writing group. She's got a rare way with flash fiction, specializing in horror, and her Seven Deadly Sins series is captivating. In fact, Lust was my favorite of the series for a couple of different reasons. XD

Without further ado, please enjoy…

photo by PJ Schnyder

Pursuit by Danielle La Paglia

She crouched on the ledge and stared out at the city; the cool air cut through the fog of lust in her mind. Closing her eyes, she took a long slow breath through her nose. She smelt him in the air flowing through the open door. Her skin tingled as she remembered the feel of his fingers trailing across her bare flesh, legs entwined, mouths exploring. The taste of him still lingered on her tongue; she slid it out and caressed her lips, savoring the remnants of his kiss. Her head swam as the final drop rolled across her tongue, her body shuddering. She gripped the ledge to keep from falling.

A few gulps of fresh air cleared her mind. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so alive–the anticipation of the pursuit, the thrill of the catch. Her muscles clenched as a whisper of the climax shot through her. The smell of sweat and sex drifted up from her skin. She shook her head, focused on the scene beneath her—the flickering lights, the rush of cars, the sounds of a city's nightlife pulsing full force. It was time to go.

What a waste of time, she thought giving a parting glance to the man stretched out on the bed. His head cocked to one side; blue eyes stared coldly at the ceiling. Twin lines of blood trailed down his neck, the last crumbs from a satisfying meal. She smiled, his life pulsing through her veins as she turned her eyes to the city below. A young man hurried down the sidewalk, pulled up his hood, and ducked into an ally. Her pulse spiked and she leapt.

What makes a hero?

We all have our favorites. In my Terra's Guardians series, my heroes have been shape shifter men, strong and predatory. They might not be the pride or pack leader, but all of them are dominant males.

But it's not just about strength or dominance. We love Adam (Heart's Sentinel) for his humor and his patience. We warm up to Jason as his protective nature and caring side are revealed. Hopefully, you'll all fall in love with Zack for the aspects of his personality that balance his wild side.

What makes a strong man more than muscles and good looks? (Okay, the handsome aspect is key and definitely appreciated…)

Coming soon, I think you'll find I write another kind of hero. You see, I love a man in uniform. But it's not about the uniform. It's about the kind of man that makes a uniform something more than the fabric. It's about the man who goes out and does heroic things, not because he's set out in search of glory, but because someone needed to step up to the line.

How do you write a hero? He has to have the intangible element to balance out the more obvious strength. He has to have character to set him apart and to match him to his lady. Above all, he has heart.

This past Veteran's Day, I hope you gave your thanks and your love to a hero. A friend, a brother, a remembered lover…all of them hold a piece of my heart.