M.A. Church's Blog, page 157
February 6, 2014
Welcome Sage Marlowe - The Nightmares-Series
The Nightmares-Series by Sage Marlowe
What if the old, folkloristic tales are true and nightmares exist? What if a nightmare isn’t just the vivid and frightening scenario our tormented subconscious presents to us as we sleep, but a paranormal being that is as substantial and real as you and I—an incubus, a demon that feeds on human emotions? Could a man fall in love with such a demon, and could the demon love him in return?
Colin Meighan, co-owner of the small but successful gay porn production company Centre Studs is also the company’s biggest star. He sports a pretty exterior, but there’s more to him than meets the eye. Too young to know the full extent of what he is, he has to learn that the world he lives in isn’t what it seems. There are powers at work that exceed everything he’s ever believed in and the lines between nightmare and reality become blurred as he discovers the truth about himself and his gruesome heritage.
This, in short, is what the Nightmares – Series is about, but there’s more to it. A lot more. A cast of intriguing, likeable and mysterious characters takes you on a ride with more twists and turns than the average rollercoaster. Hot sex is more than just fun for these guys—it’s vital. And yet, while one man alone can never be enough for demon Colin, romance and love are far from dead.
Try the Nightmares but be warned: they’re addictive and will possibly—probably—leave you sweating, tossing and turning in your bed…or wherever you choose to read them.
Here’s the beginning of A Nightmare Come True, Book One in the Nightmares Series, to whet your appetite (Copyright Sage Marlowe, 2013): When the day I was supposed to meet Colin Meighan finally arrived, I still couldn’t believe my luck. I was dying to meet the man in person, so, unsurprisingly, I arrived early at the address Uncle Tony had given me. It was a somewhat run-down former warehouse and far from the sexy and glamorous location I’d been expecting to find.My uncle Tony, who always knew someone who knew someone, had set me up for a job. "It’s cash in hand," he’d told me, shielding me from my mother’s suspicious glances. "A fairly good rate, too, as long as you’re willing to keep your eyes shut for some of the time."It had been our monthly family gathering and I, true to form, had arrived with the news of having been sacked once again. Just what did it say about me that my mother hadn’t even seemed surprised and my father, who once upon a time would have considered this a perfect reason to warm my hide, had just shrugged and continued to pick at his food?"What exactly does this job involve?" I’d asked under my breath, watching my parents’ wordless argument."A bit of everything," Tony had replied. "It’s a low-budget film production and they just need a capable pair of hands to help move around equipment, put up lights and screens and stuff like that. I’ve done it a few times myself, but I’m busy that day."Young and naïve as I was, the words 'film production' had blocked out the adjective 'low-budget' by far, but it hadn’t been until I’d cornered Tony on the doorstep, when he’d been about to leave, that I had managed to extract further information on the film production in question."Gay porn," he’d said, smirking. "But don’t worry, the guys keep their hands to themselves—or each other, anyway. You won’t need to watch the action either. Just turn around when you’re done with your part of the job."I hadn’t pointed out the double-entendre in his last sentence. He certainly hadn’t suggested I turn around and show my butt to some of the hottest guys in Britain. Pursuing the topic of gay porn or even gay sex any further wouldn’t have been wise at the best of times, but on the doorstep of my father’s house, jobless and on the wrong page of my father’s books, it could have rendered me homeless within minutes.Of course, my sexual orientation had always been a well kept secret at our home. My parents knew but the rest of the family remained in the dark, so dear Uncle Tony probably thought nothing of sending me to the set of a porn film. Little did he know that it was like asking an eight-year old to help guard a candy store. When he’d mentioned the name of the production company, Centre Studs, I’d barely been able to stop myself punching the air in victory. Centre Studs was a small company and a lightweight compared to the big overseas porn industry, but they made high quality films using the nation’s finest gay porn stars. And for me, when it came to gay porn stars, there was no one better or hotter than Colin Meighan.The inside of the building kept the promise its outside had given. Bare stone walls, naked, chipped and paint-stained concrete floors and cheap, too bright overhead lights. I was a guy and it didn’t take much to get me in the mood, but somehow I’d imagined the location for a porn film shoot to have just a tad more of a sexy atmosphere.I was one of the first to arrive. There was another guy with a ponytail who was busy glaring at his smartphone, two cameramen and one man who was busy taping a large microphone to a rod."Hi there," I greeted no one in particular and no one in particular responded. The only replies I got from the four men were muffled grunts and a mumbled "Hello."I went to the man with the ponytail. "Hi, I’m Mike. Mike Fawkes."Tapping away on his phone, he barely looked up. "Peter Evans. Call me Pete. I’m the producer-slash-director-slash-casting agent. Any questions, talk to me.""Yeah, all right." I let my gaze travel across the run-down film set. A super king-size bed was tucked into a corner, which was probably for the best as it didn’t look inviting. Its stripped mattress wore a multitude of stains in different shades—fading scars that had been earned in countless battles. An old-fashioned but large sofa sat in the middle of the room, its faded green corduroy covering threadbare in places. No, they didn’t put much effort into an appealing location. "So, this is where the action’s gonna happen, huh?" I observed, mainly just to say something.Pete glanced at me. The corners of his eyes were wrinkled in a half-smile. "Yeah. You’re early.""Well, yes. I figured it might be better if I came early."A soft chuckle right behind me made my back tingle. "Sweetheart, in this business it’s never good to come early."Pete looked past me and grinned. "You took the words right out of my mouth. Hi, Colin. You’re a bit early yourself.""Yeah, I know," Colin drawled. He moved past me and leaned in to Pete who tilted his head. For a moment I thought he’d kiss him full on the mouth, then Colin turned the motion into a quick peck on the cheek, but it was too late.A scene from the film I’d watched last night in anticipation of the meeting interfered with reality and a dirty fantasy began to unwind in my mind. I imagined Colin greeting me with a kiss, only that ours would be open mouths and tongue-touching and all. Blood shot into my dick, fast enough to make me dizzy. Fool that I was, I’d come prepared to meet the star of my dreams, but nothing had prepared me for Colin’s enormous sex appeal. On camera he was sexy as sin, off camera he was Viagra on legs. He wore tight-fitting, ripped blue jeans and a pale grey, long-sleeved T-shirt. The fabric of the latter was so soft that it not only hugged the curves of his pectoral muscles—I could also easily make out the shape of the nipple piercing underneath.
For the full series listing, please visit the publisher’s website at: https://www.totallybound.com/index.php?route=product/series&series_id=388
The first four books are also already available from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GDJGQEG
and ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-anightmarecometrue-1335054-340.html(the links take you to the first book in the series)
Or visit Sage’s world on www.sage-marlowe.com
About the author
Sage is a multi-published author of MM erotic romance novels and novellas and loves exploring the flavours of gay erotic fiction.
A willing slave to all the fascinating guys who keep queuing up and want their stories told, Sage can almost always be found cooking up the next hot story or daydreaming about new ways of rubbing sexy male bodies together to make the sparks fly.
Contact and buy links
Sage’s website & blog: www.sage-marlowe.comFacebook: www.facebook.com/sage.marlowe0 e-mail: marlowe.sage@yahoo.co.ukTwitter: @SageMarloweGoodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/SageMarloweAmazon: www.amazon.com/author/sagemarloweFor all books published with Totally Bound, go to: http://www.totallybound.com/sage-marlowe
For all books published with Siren-BookStrand, go to: www.bookstrand.com/sage-marlowe
What if the old, folkloristic tales are true and nightmares exist? What if a nightmare isn’t just the vivid and frightening scenario our tormented subconscious presents to us as we sleep, but a paranormal being that is as substantial and real as you and I—an incubus, a demon that feeds on human emotions? Could a man fall in love with such a demon, and could the demon love him in return?
Colin Meighan, co-owner of the small but successful gay porn production company Centre Studs is also the company’s biggest star. He sports a pretty exterior, but there’s more to him than meets the eye. Too young to know the full extent of what he is, he has to learn that the world he lives in isn’t what it seems. There are powers at work that exceed everything he’s ever believed in and the lines between nightmare and reality become blurred as he discovers the truth about himself and his gruesome heritage.
This, in short, is what the Nightmares – Series is about, but there’s more to it. A lot more. A cast of intriguing, likeable and mysterious characters takes you on a ride with more twists and turns than the average rollercoaster. Hot sex is more than just fun for these guys—it’s vital. And yet, while one man alone can never be enough for demon Colin, romance and love are far from dead.
Try the Nightmares but be warned: they’re addictive and will possibly—probably—leave you sweating, tossing and turning in your bed…or wherever you choose to read them.
Here’s the beginning of A Nightmare Come True, Book One in the Nightmares Series, to whet your appetite (Copyright Sage Marlowe, 2013): When the day I was supposed to meet Colin Meighan finally arrived, I still couldn’t believe my luck. I was dying to meet the man in person, so, unsurprisingly, I arrived early at the address Uncle Tony had given me. It was a somewhat run-down former warehouse and far from the sexy and glamorous location I’d been expecting to find.My uncle Tony, who always knew someone who knew someone, had set me up for a job. "It’s cash in hand," he’d told me, shielding me from my mother’s suspicious glances. "A fairly good rate, too, as long as you’re willing to keep your eyes shut for some of the time."It had been our monthly family gathering and I, true to form, had arrived with the news of having been sacked once again. Just what did it say about me that my mother hadn’t even seemed surprised and my father, who once upon a time would have considered this a perfect reason to warm my hide, had just shrugged and continued to pick at his food?"What exactly does this job involve?" I’d asked under my breath, watching my parents’ wordless argument."A bit of everything," Tony had replied. "It’s a low-budget film production and they just need a capable pair of hands to help move around equipment, put up lights and screens and stuff like that. I’ve done it a few times myself, but I’m busy that day."Young and naïve as I was, the words 'film production' had blocked out the adjective 'low-budget' by far, but it hadn’t been until I’d cornered Tony on the doorstep, when he’d been about to leave, that I had managed to extract further information on the film production in question."Gay porn," he’d said, smirking. "But don’t worry, the guys keep their hands to themselves—or each other, anyway. You won’t need to watch the action either. Just turn around when you’re done with your part of the job."I hadn’t pointed out the double-entendre in his last sentence. He certainly hadn’t suggested I turn around and show my butt to some of the hottest guys in Britain. Pursuing the topic of gay porn or even gay sex any further wouldn’t have been wise at the best of times, but on the doorstep of my father’s house, jobless and on the wrong page of my father’s books, it could have rendered me homeless within minutes.Of course, my sexual orientation had always been a well kept secret at our home. My parents knew but the rest of the family remained in the dark, so dear Uncle Tony probably thought nothing of sending me to the set of a porn film. Little did he know that it was like asking an eight-year old to help guard a candy store. When he’d mentioned the name of the production company, Centre Studs, I’d barely been able to stop myself punching the air in victory. Centre Studs was a small company and a lightweight compared to the big overseas porn industry, but they made high quality films using the nation’s finest gay porn stars. And for me, when it came to gay porn stars, there was no one better or hotter than Colin Meighan.The inside of the building kept the promise its outside had given. Bare stone walls, naked, chipped and paint-stained concrete floors and cheap, too bright overhead lights. I was a guy and it didn’t take much to get me in the mood, but somehow I’d imagined the location for a porn film shoot to have just a tad more of a sexy atmosphere.I was one of the first to arrive. There was another guy with a ponytail who was busy glaring at his smartphone, two cameramen and one man who was busy taping a large microphone to a rod."Hi there," I greeted no one in particular and no one in particular responded. The only replies I got from the four men were muffled grunts and a mumbled "Hello."I went to the man with the ponytail. "Hi, I’m Mike. Mike Fawkes."Tapping away on his phone, he barely looked up. "Peter Evans. Call me Pete. I’m the producer-slash-director-slash-casting agent. Any questions, talk to me.""Yeah, all right." I let my gaze travel across the run-down film set. A super king-size bed was tucked into a corner, which was probably for the best as it didn’t look inviting. Its stripped mattress wore a multitude of stains in different shades—fading scars that had been earned in countless battles. An old-fashioned but large sofa sat in the middle of the room, its faded green corduroy covering threadbare in places. No, they didn’t put much effort into an appealing location. "So, this is where the action’s gonna happen, huh?" I observed, mainly just to say something.Pete glanced at me. The corners of his eyes were wrinkled in a half-smile. "Yeah. You’re early.""Well, yes. I figured it might be better if I came early."A soft chuckle right behind me made my back tingle. "Sweetheart, in this business it’s never good to come early."Pete looked past me and grinned. "You took the words right out of my mouth. Hi, Colin. You’re a bit early yourself.""Yeah, I know," Colin drawled. He moved past me and leaned in to Pete who tilted his head. For a moment I thought he’d kiss him full on the mouth, then Colin turned the motion into a quick peck on the cheek, but it was too late.A scene from the film I’d watched last night in anticipation of the meeting interfered with reality and a dirty fantasy began to unwind in my mind. I imagined Colin greeting me with a kiss, only that ours would be open mouths and tongue-touching and all. Blood shot into my dick, fast enough to make me dizzy. Fool that I was, I’d come prepared to meet the star of my dreams, but nothing had prepared me for Colin’s enormous sex appeal. On camera he was sexy as sin, off camera he was Viagra on legs. He wore tight-fitting, ripped blue jeans and a pale grey, long-sleeved T-shirt. The fabric of the latter was so soft that it not only hugged the curves of his pectoral muscles—I could also easily make out the shape of the nipple piercing underneath.
For the full series listing, please visit the publisher’s website at: https://www.totallybound.com/index.php?route=product/series&series_id=388
The first four books are also already available from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GDJGQEG
and ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-anightmarecometrue-1335054-340.html(the links take you to the first book in the series)
Or visit Sage’s world on www.sage-marlowe.com
About the author
Sage is a multi-published author of MM erotic romance novels and novellas and loves exploring the flavours of gay erotic fiction.
A willing slave to all the fascinating guys who keep queuing up and want their stories told, Sage can almost always be found cooking up the next hot story or daydreaming about new ways of rubbing sexy male bodies together to make the sparks fly.
Contact and buy links
Sage’s website & blog: www.sage-marlowe.comFacebook: www.facebook.com/sage.marlowe0 e-mail: marlowe.sage@yahoo.co.ukTwitter: @SageMarloweGoodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/SageMarloweAmazon: www.amazon.com/author/sagemarloweFor all books published with Totally Bound, go to: http://www.totallybound.com/sage-marlowe
For all books published with Siren-BookStrand, go to: www.bookstrand.com/sage-marlowe
February 5, 2014
Welcome Ashlyn Forge - From Johann to Tannenbaum
Amazon (Print)Amazon (Kindle)
Barnes & Noble
Johann Andreas IV is a rich loser who has a raw deal in life. He is handsome, yet with a poor self-image, clever, but still uneducated, and despite being the heir apparent in his grandfather’s will, he’s about to be thrown out with nothing.
In the underground colony of his birth, two things matter the most to its denizens: a name, which will guarantee his wealth and status, and a designated branding tattoo, the only thing allowing Colony-Dwellers to live safely underground. Johann has one year to secure both.
His grandfather’s unexpected passing has propelled Johann to the foreground of his family. He must learn the family business within the year. He’s up to the challenge but one thing stands in his way; his mother has plans of her own…and they don’t include him.Add 'From Johann to Tannenbaum' on Goodreads! → Read it on Wattpad →
Ashlyn Forge has called four different continents home, America, Europe, Latin America, and Asia. Having spent most of her childhood staying out of trouble in upstate New York, she now lives in Japan. She is currently working on her “Toys and Soldiers” series, which is set in a Sci-Fi Fantasy underground world. The books of the series are released out of order with the debut (book 1) “In Liam’s Wake” and “From Johann to Tannnenbaum” released in 2013. Book 2: “Beyond Riley’s Slumber” as well as “The Stuff of Dreams” and “Erosions” are slated for publication in 2014.
An Excerpt from From Johann to Tannenbaum:
Johann worked well into the night, having received a message on his interface around six o’clock from Kobal. Dinner was off, but they’d reschedule.
“Right.” Time and again he’d repeat that single-sentence text to himself and snort bitterly. “Yeah. Right.”
He was late in leaving the office, and, as anticipated, most workers had retreated to the area designated for staff by the time Johann arrived at the seemingly empty kitchen. When he saw the outline of someone sitting at the table in front of the food that had been set out for him, he approached with caution. It wasn’t a body he readily recognized.
Tanner sat hunched at the table, writing on a piece of paper.
Johann paused, thinking back to the days prior to figure out when or where the E had gotten that paper. He made a mental note to count his stack tomorrow.
“Hi.”
The E’s bald head snapped up, and he gave a weak smile. Tanner’s brown eyes settled on the paper once more. He studied what he’d written and pushed it forward.
Johann decided to sit and did so slowly as he picked the paper up. The very texture made him want to cry; it was from the office. By the Colony, how much more paper can be sacrificed for the good of communication? What he saw made him pause for some time. It was a picture. He’d seen E drawings before. Hell, when he’d called up Queen and Tanner’s profiles to see if they were single, he’d seen a few samples of Queen’s artwork. The man was a genius with a brush. Tanner, however…was much less sophisticated than the other E’s. When Johann lowered the paper and saw Tanner’s smug look, he focused on the picture again and finally laughed.
“So this is your way of giving me a message?” Johann pointed at the drawing. “I guess this is Queen?”
Tanner took the paper back, ran his thumb along the pen to change the ink color, and scribbled green hair on the stick figure.
“Ja.”
“Right.” Johann studied the message again and smiled in spite of himself. He turned the paper around to Tanner for inspection as he spoke. “So Kobal told Queen to tell me he wasn’t coming.” He pointed down to the second row of pictures to show Queen’s stick figure with a frowny face. He took on the same gruff tone the E was noted for. “So Queen said ‘hell no, I’m not going.’ So you’ve decided to come tell me. But that was a good three hours ago.” He got to the final image with the Tanner frowny face, made all too clear that it was Tanner because he’d drawn everyone else with exaggerated eyebrows, yet this stick figure was the only one without. “So you’re pissed because you waited out of the kindness of your heart and I took a long time to get here?”
Tanner only gave him that calm, pleasant look Johann had come to like. When the man folded his arms and sat back, Johann bowed humbly.
“So sorry.” He didn’t get a response, so he clapped his hands together and bowed. “So sorry. Sorry.”
In response Tanner pushed the tray of food forward and sat up with his elbows on the table as he pointed to what was on the tray.
There wasn’t much, but then again, Johann wasn’t surprised. Marian had brought the hammer down, and although Gulliver didn’t usually act all that servile to her, whatever Marian threatened to do must have convinced the cook to take heed.
The sight of the soup, bread, and yogurt caught his attention, and he nodded.
“Right. A hearty meal.”
With no way of making conversation, Johann waited for Tanner to leave. The E didn’t budge; he just sat and watched him. For an instant Johann missed Gulliver. Sure the man couldn’t talk, but at least he could understand.
Now Johann truly felt like he was talking to himself. He sighed and started on his soup. Halfway through, he noticed that Tanner had slouched lower to watch him, eyes on Johann’s mouth.
“Oh yeah, you guys don’t eat, huh?” At the curious look, Johann decided to offer some of his food. “Never? You just never eat? Not even for pleasure? Some of you eat for fun, don’t you? Here, try it.”
The gesture prompted Tanner to sit back and shake his head. He took interest in the bread roll next, and Johann studied him closely. As large as Tanner’s body was, despite all the power he exuded just by being there, he did appear harmless on many levels. There was a gentleness about him.
He didn’t think of it as much of a risk when he broke the bread and handed a piece over. Tanner looked at him cautiously and then took the piece. He seemed apprehensive, to say the least, but he took a bite and spat it out immediately.
Johann smiled and then laughed when Tanner looked from the bread roll to the paper he had scribbled on and nodded between the two.
“It does not taste like paper. Come on,” Johann mused.
When Tanner reached for the paper and threatened to take a bite, Johann sat up to snatch it from him.
“Stop already.” Johann chuckled. “Other than the fact that they both burn easily—”
Tanner made an attempt to snatch the paper back, but their fingers brushed, and a slight spark flickered between them at the contact.
Johann stood cautiously. “What the hell…”
He managed to catch a glimpse of Tanner’s eyes widening in fear before the paper caught fire.
No doubt in an attempt to shield Johann, Tanner pushed him back.
The very touch of the E’s hand on his skin made Johann howl.
Johann looked up from the burn mark on his chest. Tanner stood, both hands engulfed in flames, staring at the offending appendages, clearly at a loss of what to do.
A chime sounded, and the System’s voice boomed. “Fire. Oxygen depletion in five, four, three, two…”
The kitchen door slid shut, and the lights dimmed. Tanner was the only light source then, his fists burning blue. Within a matter of seconds, there was no more air for Johann to gasp.
February 4, 2014
Wednesday Briefs - Trouble Comes in Threes 2.3
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Welcome to the Wednesday Briefs flash group (click to go to the site). The short stories have a maximum of a 1000 word count plus links at the bottom to the other flashers. This week's prompts are: "Say what?" "I’ll do my best." "Money burns a hole in your pocket." "Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may diet." "Like a fish out of water." "The deepest waters make the least noise." or use: stomach, claws, blanket or have a character crying or feature a leaky faucet or use: glasses, a safe, hangers "You are so shallow."
Use a flamethrower
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
“The whole kitchen is flooded with dough. You’re not allowed to use yeast ever again.”
“Well, that does it. I’m a vegetarian now.
Trouble Comes in Threes 2.3
“Okay, okay, okay.” I held out my hands—like that would stop the room from tilting—and snickered. “Okay. Think it’s time to go to bed.”A quick glance at the fire showed me it had burned down. Good, I didn’t have to worry with that. Putting both hands on the couch, I pushed myself up. Which would have worked perfectly fine if my left hand hadn’t slid off the couch. Huh. Had my hand actually been on the couch? It damn sure wasn’t now. Maybe that was why I was listing to the side with my elbow crammed into the other couch cushion. Instead of standing, I nearly ended up on the floor… a floor that had rushed up to meet me suddenly. Off-balance and still giggling, I pointed at the misbehaving floor as I straightened myself. “Look, you just stay right the hell there. No more of this jumping around. Got it?”Damn thing was still moving. I groaned. It really needed to stop. My stomach rolled nastily, and oh, fuck me, that wasn’t good. If I could just get my ass to the bedroom, everything would be all right. I slapped my hand back on the couch, checked to see that my hand actually was on the couch, then lurched up… only to drop right back down. That was odd. My knees weren’t working. All they did was wobble. Maybe they were numb? Asleep? I wished I were asleep. A white blob nudged me. Eyes narrowed, I stared at it. And stared at it. And stared at it. Finally, my blurry vision cleared enough for me to tell the blob was a white cat. Huh. A white cat? What the hell? The blob—I mean the cat—nudged me again, meowing non-stop, tail slashing through the air. Wow, it sure liked to talk. How did it get in here? Oh yeah, it ran inside earlier. Poor kitty had to be cold out there in all that snow. It sure blended well with all that whiteness, though. Huh, I wondered what that had to do with cold snow. I guess it didn’t matter, I had a cat now. What the hell was I going to do with a cat? Wait a minute. I looked around. Didn’t I have two of the little buggers? Yeah! A totally black one. That fucker intimidated me. The damn thing had a freaking strong personality. Wasn’t that a cat thing though? Strong personalities? Being independent? Creepy?
And speak of the devil, there he was, just sitting on the floor, examining me with those eerie blue eyes. “Meerw.”“Yup, I know. I’m fuckin’ drunk.”How freaking cool would it be to speak cat? Did they think like us? Have feelings like us? Morals? Or did they just care about eating, sleeping, and killing something? Did they like being in the house, or would they rather be outside? Snorting, I glanced out the window. Nothing wanted to be outside right now. Snowball jumped in my lap, put both paws on my chest, and meowed in my face. “Whoa, dude, tuna breath.” I waved my hand in front of me, wrinkling my nose and fighting the urge to gag. Snowball eyed my hand, and thank God my alcohol-soaked brain caught a clue and stopped with the all the waving before he pounced. Snowball leaned closer and rubbed his face against my chin. Damn, that tickled. When he stopped, I scrubbed my hand over my face, feeling stubble. Why had he done that? And thank God I hadn’t gotten hair in my mouth. I giggled at that—I so wasn’t going there. Then tears flooded my eyes when I realized just how long it had been since I went there. Whoa, dramatic mood swing. Gotta love alcohol.Snowball’s purring caught my attention, and I rubbed a hand down his back, tears forgotten. He arched into my touch. Nice. Nothing but soft fur and sleek muscles. And weight. Man, he was heavy leaning against my chest. I ran my hand down his back again. Yup, someone had been taking care of him. He not only looked good, he was very friendly.Tiger joined us on the couch, kneading my thigh. I flinched from the sharp prick of his nails through my denim. Those were some heavy-duty claws. I really needed to get up, but the effort was too much. I just wanted to sleep. I yawned, then yawned again, my eyes watering. Snowball jumped down. Guess my breath didn’t smell any better than his. That brought on more giggles, followed by another round of yawns.My plan to get shit-faced was a success. I was really drunk.Well hell, fuck going to bed, I’d just crash here. I kicked off my shoes and undid my jeans. There was a blanket bunched up at the end of the couch, and I lunged at it several times before finally getting hold of it. What had possessed me to buy such a long assed couch?“Finally!” I flopped down and pulled the blanket over me. I closed my eyes, the room lazily spinning, some ass on TV blathering on. Damn, I wish it would stop…. The spinning or talking, take your pick. Rolling to my side seemed to help. Sighing with relief, I relaxed, willing myself to fall asleep before the room started rotating again. The thud of something landing next to me disrupted my desperate fall into sleep. I cracked open an eye… to see Tiger making himself comfortable next to me, tail languidly moving. “‘Night,” I whispered. “Where’s Snowball?”Purring drifted down from the back of the couch. I turned my head toward the sound. “‘Night to you too.”
TBC. Make sure to visit the other flashers!
Jon KeysJC WallaceA.R. VonGrace Duncan Sarah HayesChris T. KatTali SpencerVictoria AdamsCia NordwellNephylim Rob ColtonElyzabeth VaLey Lily VeldenRaine O’TierneyMichael MandrakeAndrew Q. GordonJulie Lynn Hayes
Welcome to the Wednesday Briefs flash group (click to go to the site). The short stories have a maximum of a 1000 word count plus links at the bottom to the other flashers. This week's prompts are: "Say what?" "I’ll do my best." "Money burns a hole in your pocket." "Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may diet." "Like a fish out of water." "The deepest waters make the least noise." or use: stomach, claws, blanket or have a character crying or feature a leaky faucet or use: glasses, a safe, hangers "You are so shallow."
Use a flamethrower
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
“The whole kitchen is flooded with dough. You’re not allowed to use yeast ever again.”
“Well, that does it. I’m a vegetarian now.
Trouble Comes in Threes 2.3
“Okay, okay, okay.” I held out my hands—like that would stop the room from tilting—and snickered. “Okay. Think it’s time to go to bed.”A quick glance at the fire showed me it had burned down. Good, I didn’t have to worry with that. Putting both hands on the couch, I pushed myself up. Which would have worked perfectly fine if my left hand hadn’t slid off the couch. Huh. Had my hand actually been on the couch? It damn sure wasn’t now. Maybe that was why I was listing to the side with my elbow crammed into the other couch cushion. Instead of standing, I nearly ended up on the floor… a floor that had rushed up to meet me suddenly. Off-balance and still giggling, I pointed at the misbehaving floor as I straightened myself. “Look, you just stay right the hell there. No more of this jumping around. Got it?”Damn thing was still moving. I groaned. It really needed to stop. My stomach rolled nastily, and oh, fuck me, that wasn’t good. If I could just get my ass to the bedroom, everything would be all right. I slapped my hand back on the couch, checked to see that my hand actually was on the couch, then lurched up… only to drop right back down. That was odd. My knees weren’t working. All they did was wobble. Maybe they were numb? Asleep? I wished I were asleep. A white blob nudged me. Eyes narrowed, I stared at it. And stared at it. And stared at it. Finally, my blurry vision cleared enough for me to tell the blob was a white cat. Huh. A white cat? What the hell? The blob—I mean the cat—nudged me again, meowing non-stop, tail slashing through the air. Wow, it sure liked to talk. How did it get in here? Oh yeah, it ran inside earlier. Poor kitty had to be cold out there in all that snow. It sure blended well with all that whiteness, though. Huh, I wondered what that had to do with cold snow. I guess it didn’t matter, I had a cat now. What the hell was I going to do with a cat? Wait a minute. I looked around. Didn’t I have two of the little buggers? Yeah! A totally black one. That fucker intimidated me. The damn thing had a freaking strong personality. Wasn’t that a cat thing though? Strong personalities? Being independent? Creepy?
And speak of the devil, there he was, just sitting on the floor, examining me with those eerie blue eyes. “Meerw.”“Yup, I know. I’m fuckin’ drunk.”How freaking cool would it be to speak cat? Did they think like us? Have feelings like us? Morals? Or did they just care about eating, sleeping, and killing something? Did they like being in the house, or would they rather be outside? Snorting, I glanced out the window. Nothing wanted to be outside right now. Snowball jumped in my lap, put both paws on my chest, and meowed in my face. “Whoa, dude, tuna breath.” I waved my hand in front of me, wrinkling my nose and fighting the urge to gag. Snowball eyed my hand, and thank God my alcohol-soaked brain caught a clue and stopped with the all the waving before he pounced. Snowball leaned closer and rubbed his face against my chin. Damn, that tickled. When he stopped, I scrubbed my hand over my face, feeling stubble. Why had he done that? And thank God I hadn’t gotten hair in my mouth. I giggled at that—I so wasn’t going there. Then tears flooded my eyes when I realized just how long it had been since I went there. Whoa, dramatic mood swing. Gotta love alcohol.Snowball’s purring caught my attention, and I rubbed a hand down his back, tears forgotten. He arched into my touch. Nice. Nothing but soft fur and sleek muscles. And weight. Man, he was heavy leaning against my chest. I ran my hand down his back again. Yup, someone had been taking care of him. He not only looked good, he was very friendly.Tiger joined us on the couch, kneading my thigh. I flinched from the sharp prick of his nails through my denim. Those were some heavy-duty claws. I really needed to get up, but the effort was too much. I just wanted to sleep. I yawned, then yawned again, my eyes watering. Snowball jumped down. Guess my breath didn’t smell any better than his. That brought on more giggles, followed by another round of yawns.My plan to get shit-faced was a success. I was really drunk.Well hell, fuck going to bed, I’d just crash here. I kicked off my shoes and undid my jeans. There was a blanket bunched up at the end of the couch, and I lunged at it several times before finally getting hold of it. What had possessed me to buy such a long assed couch?“Finally!” I flopped down and pulled the blanket over me. I closed my eyes, the room lazily spinning, some ass on TV blathering on. Damn, I wish it would stop…. The spinning or talking, take your pick. Rolling to my side seemed to help. Sighing with relief, I relaxed, willing myself to fall asleep before the room started rotating again. The thud of something landing next to me disrupted my desperate fall into sleep. I cracked open an eye… to see Tiger making himself comfortable next to me, tail languidly moving. “‘Night,” I whispered. “Where’s Snowball?”Purring drifted down from the back of the couch. I turned my head toward the sound. “‘Night to you too.”TBC. Make sure to visit the other flashers!
Jon KeysJC WallaceA.R. VonGrace Duncan Sarah HayesChris T. KatTali SpencerVictoria AdamsCia NordwellNephylim Rob ColtonElyzabeth VaLey Lily VeldenRaine O’TierneyMichael MandrakeAndrew Q. GordonJulie Lynn Hayes
February 2, 2014
Welcome Jay Vaughn - Rough Boys novels
Michelle, thanks so much for hosting me. You were one of the first people I met (virtually) when I started posting on Literotica.
I loved your Harvest series when I first read it on Lit and am so glad to see it finally being published. You were kind enough to beta for me in my writing infancy, and I really appreciate it.
I’m so very excited to be here, promoting my Rough Boys trilogy. The final novel, Rough Boys: Revenge, will be available February 14th, and to celebrate, I’ve made the first novel, Rough Boys: Runaway, free. I’ll also be giving away free copies of either Rough Boys: Redemption or Rough Boys: Revenge to lucky commenters on this blog. As my first published novel, Rough Boys holds a place dear to my heart. I fell in love with my characters while I was writing the story, and the editing process has been a sweet trip down memory lane. Most people’s favorite character is Ty, and I have to agree I have a strong affinity for him. He is so naïve and innocent in the beginning, and one of the things that is bittersweet in the story is that he loses that. But that is life—we can’t all stay a sweet seventeen year old forever, nor would we want to. He loses something, but I think he gains much more. The character who I identify most closely with is Sean (I even have the wild red hair). Sean wears his heart on his sleeve and I tend to hide mine, but many of his other traits, both good and bad, I have in common. I think the story is a little different from most of the M/M romance novels I’ve read, but it’s really hard for me to judge my own work. Other people’s stories? —No problem. I can tell you I like this one slightly better than that one and exactly why. But my own work? No idea if it’s any good or not. It’s like looking in a mirror. Some days I think I look great, especially for my age, and some days I think I look horrible. So, instead of giving my opinion, I’ll reflect back some of the things my readers said while I was posting chapter-by-chapter on Literotica.
Firstly, a warning: there is some pretty extreme violence in the story. It’s not throughout the story, but few of my own friends couldn’t make it past the first chapter, which I think might be the worst (I just throw readers right into the thick of things). I got comments such as this one:When I started reading the first chapter of Rough Boys, I didn't finish it...the torture was not only terrifying, but very graphic (congratulations on that). However, for the rest of the day all I could think about was Ty! I just had to keep reading and find out how things turned out for him. I can honestly say that I ended up reading [the whole novel]. Most incredible story I've ever read! I feel like I experienced every range of emotions through your characters.I was overwhelmed with some of the comments I got about Rough Boys. There were at least three people who told me my story gave them the courage to come out, in comments like this one:All I can say is that I have no words to express how deeply drawn in and attached to the characters in your story I have become. This is hands down the best and most influential series I have ever read. This story gave me the courage to actually come out to my best friend and his wife.And this one:You have made me realize some things about myself that I think I always knew, but I had never admitted them to myself. In short you are an inspiration to me and I'm sure lots of other people.These comments absolutely floored me, because I was looking at the story as more of a soap opera—not something to be taken so seriously, but obviously some people did. The drug use was a subject of controversy, and I certainly made plenty of readers angry because I was “making Ty use drugs.” As many complainers as I had, I had defenders, however, and in the end most readers seem to have forgiven me. I don’t think I could have realistically written it any other way. Part of me is on those pages. Comments like this one, however, almost broke my heart:I'm sorry, but all the drug use, is getting too much, you seem to be more focused on drugs and turning a homeless teen into a drug addict than anything else, I won't be reading anymore of this story, which I thought was brilliant up til this chapter.But then comments like this one helped make up for it:Have just spent last 26 hours reading [most of the novel].
I have 20 or so years hands on experience handling 2 junkies in my life, I was amazed to read the junkies side of the whole situation, all the tricks, manipulation, anguish and distrust caused is clearly stated in your story. I enjoyed the drug users side of the confronting and turmoil regarding drugs, the inner fights, self worthlessness, and love within themselves. Having never used drugs I have learned all these things by reading in this story the drug users perspective taught me much understanding…And:I think I was one of your harshest critics especially when it came to Ty's initial and escalating drug use, along with his abuse. You challenged social morals and introduced us to lifestyles we weren't all together familiar/comfortable with. Sometimes, it was a tough read. However, I'm glad I stuck it out. Great job and thank you for allowing your characters and readers the HEA we were rooting for.And yes, I’m a firm believer in HEA. I’m not sure how often it happens in real life, but as real and gritty as things might get sometimes in my stories, I am writing fiction. And because it’s fiction, I can make the ending however I want. And I want an HEA.Book Blurb A runaway, a dreamer, a gorgeous femme … are they rough enough to survive the brutal city?Ty is only seventeen when he flees in terror from his homophobic father, but surviving on the streets is more difficult than he could possibly have imagined. When bad choices send Ty spiraling toward ruin, can he be saved by love?Dani leaves home with stars in his eyes but his feet on the ground, fully expecting his road to success to be long and difficult. What he doesn't expect is to fall head-over-heels in love with a gorgeous, self-centered rock star. Can Dani find happiness with the arrogant Englishman or will his heart be broken?Kaeden is banished by his conservative Asian parents when he comes home with extreme hair, false eyelashes, and glittering fingernails. He naively accepts a position with a male escort service, dreaming of fancy parties and wealthy men. Instead he finds himself playing Russian roulette with his heart.This gritty urban romance follows the lives of these three young men as they forge strong bonds of friendship in spite of, or maybe because of, the challenges they face. Publisher’s Notes: This story contains content which may be offensive to some readers: extreme violence, substance abuse, offensive language, and detailed descriptions of M/M sex. No underage sex.
Excerpt from Rough Boys: Runaway“Fuck you!” Ty hissed through gritted teeth as his rage got the better of his judgment. “What did you say?” His father was in his face, blue eyes blazing.A cold wave of fear crashed over Ty, washing away his anger. He tried desperately to pull his father’s attention away from what he’d just said. “I’m almost eighteen, Dad. I’m old enough to make decisions about my own hair, for God’s sake!” “That discussion is over.” His father’s voice was tight with barely controlled anger. “What I want to know is what you just said to me.”“I think you know what I said. I’d rather not say it again.” Ty knew he sounded like a snot. Why do I always bait him? he wondered. His father’s jaw clenched. “Boy, you need to learn some respect!” He loomed over his son, his paunch almost touching Ty’s taut stomach.“You can’t beat respect into me,” Ty said, tilting his chin up defiantly. “You have to earn it!” Why the hell can’t I keep my fool mouth shut and pretend to respect him?“You little shit!” His father grabbed him by the collar with both hands and shook him. Ty clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from rattling. He has no right to shake me like this! Fury exploded within him. “Fuck you!” This time he yelled the words in his father’s face. Twisting suddenly, he managed to pull out of the older man’s grip. He tried to duck under his arm, but his dad grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him back into the kitchen counter. His father drew back his fist and let it fly toward Ty’s face. It seemed like the fist came at him in slow motion, but he still couldn’t avoid it. The punch slammed into his eye, cracking his head into the cupboard behind him. As Ty’s vision clouded, he gripped the counter to keep from going down. His injured eye immediately started to stream tears. Pain fueled his anger, causing another blinding flare-up. He swung at his father, clipping him in the jaw with a hard knuckle. Ty felt a jolt travel from his fist up his arm and he registered shock. This was the first time he’d ever struck his father. Oh shit!Ty’s dad had three inches and at least seventy pounds on him. With a roar, he grabbed him by his hair, dragged him forward several feet, and smashed his face into the doorjamb. Ty’s cheek and nose met the pine with a sickening crunch. He fought to keep his feet under him, blinking rapidly, trying to see through the red haze of pain. Blood gushed from his nose, splattering onto the hardwood floor.“Richard!” He heard his mother’s cry of shocked protest. She would not save him. She never did.His father had a death grip on his hair and was on a mission. He dragged him out of the kitchen, down the hall, and up two flights of stairs in their rambling, hundred-year-old house.Ty stumbled, trying to keep up, wishing he had cut his hair now that his father seemed to be pulling it out by the roots. He didn’t try to fight his father; he knew he couldn’t win. Rage consumed Richard Iverson. The voice in his head screamed at him in fury. (The fuckin’ little shit hit you! That’s what comes from being too soft on him. He needs to know his place. You need to teach him some respect. You need to show him how to be a man.) He was puffing by the time he reached the top of the stairs, dragging his son behind him. The boy had a way of making the voice in his head go crazy.(He’s far too pretty for a boy. Boys should not be pretty.) With his beautiful eyes, impossibly long lashes, and pale, smooth skin, his son looked just like his wife. To make matters worse, he was too small. He was never going to make it to six feet. He would be lucky if he made it to five-eleven.Richard dragged his son into his bedroom and pushed him onto his narrow bed. “You really asked for it today, Tiberius. Take off your pants,” he ordered.Ty hated to be called by his full name and his dad knew it, but he was not about to argue about that now. It was time for damage control.“I’m sorry, Dad! I didn’t mean to hit you.” (He doesn’t mean that apology), the voice said. (He’s just trying to get out of a beating. He is weak, and you’re weak too for letting him get like this.)“You heard what I said.” Richard’s tone was calm, almost normal. From the speed at which his son flipped onto his stomach and pulled his pants down, the boy was obviously not fooled. A satisfied smile curled the corners of the older man’s mouth.Ty’s nose was bleeding all over his dark blue comforter. He panted around gritted teeth as he waited for the lashes. This was getting to be a much too familiar scene. Why does he hate me so much? Ty wondered for the thousandth time. The first strike landed with a clink, accompanied by much more pain than he expected.“Fuck!” he yelled, twisting around and catching the belt in his hands as it came down for the second lash. He hit me with the buckle end of the belt! “What the hell?” he screamed, clutching the belt in self-defense. He hung on for dear life.His father’s face contorted. His mouth twisted. His eyes burned. With a cry of demented rage, he slammed his fist into Ty’s mouth, splitting his lip.Ty’s head snapped back. His grip on the belt loosened, and his father snatched it out of his hands. Ty cringed, waiting for the next barrage. Instead his father stormed out of the room, locking the door behind him. Thank God! He must have realized he was out of control.Ty heard his mother’s voice, high-pitched—almost hysterical—asking questions. He didn’t hear his father’s reply.As soon as he started to calm down, he was flooded with sensation: his face throbbed, his head pounded, and his stomach churned.Why is he so controlling? Why can’t I keep my hair three inches long? Why the hell does he care? It had been such a stupid argument. “That’s two-and-a-half inches too long!” his father had decreed. “You’re getting a haircut on Monday!”“No, Dad,” he’d replied calmly. “I think I…” “This is not a topic for discussion!” His father had cut him off. “I want it high and tight by the time I get home on Monday.” He had turned to leave the room—conversation over. That’s when Ty’s temper had gotten the best of him and he’d let out the “Fuck you!” In retrospect, with his swollen nose making it hard to breathe, he should have just gone along with the haircut again. He wondered if he’d be able to talk his sister into sneaking into the kitchen and getting him some ice for the swelling.Suddenly his father charged back into the room. Ty took one look at his expression and began to silently pray, Please, God, don’t let him kill me!
Author BioJay Vaughn lives in sunny Seattle, a clean, progressive city that is way too expensive for a writer’s income. Therefore, Jay holds down a full-time, computer-industry day job, but writing is her passion. It’s a hobby-gone-wild, so much so that her teenage kids accuse her of being an addict.Jay carries her laptop everywhere and can often be seen combining other favorite activities with writing. For example, you can find Jay sitting at a small table in the back of the gay bar around the corner from her house, drinking wine and writing. Or waking up early while camping, dragging out the laptop, and writing. Or writing in the truck on the way to and from concerts, ski-trips, visits to relatives ... wherever. Jay’s favorite genres are sci-fi, fantasy, and M/M erotic romance. She discovered M/M quite by accident when she was writing a traditional fantasy novel, and one of her characters ended up in an all-male prison for a bit too long. Whoops!Find out what Jay is working on next at http://www.authorjvaughn.comor drop her a line at jayvaughn@live.com. She’d love to hear from you.Twitter: @AuthorJVaughnFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/jay.vaughn.5836
Buy Links (for the first book in the series)Divergent Publishing: http://www.divergentpublishing.com/Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/370318Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Rough-Boys-Runaway-J-Vaughn-ebook/dp/B00GSC82TK/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1385082653&sr=1-1&keywords=Rough+Boys%3A+RunawayApple iBookstore: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/rough-boys-runaway/id741055212?mt=11Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rough-boys-j-vaughn/1117377437?ean=2940045408622
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18522403-rough-boys
February 1, 2014
Welcome Raine O'Tierney - Under the Table and Into His Heart
The Perks of Percolating!I’m a percolator! My friend, JC Wallace, calls it “thinking too much”. I can’t help! I just prefer the inside of my brainhole to the outside world. Because of this, I spend a lot of time with my characters. A lot of time. My first published work—Under the Table and Into His Heart—is about a group of host club workers who have, honestly, been rattling around in my brain for the last four years. I know more about these guys and their wants and needs and motivations, than I do about my own brother! (I exaggerate, I love you didi.) When Dreamspinner Press asked us if we wanted to do a V-Day short for the Valentine Rainbow Collection, the whole Under the Table host club spoke up at once (which is damn noisy, by the way!) and said, c’mon, Raine, let’s do this thing! The result was a fun little bit of sexiness about a very shy bartender and a well-trained host. Didn’t quiet anything though! That’s what you get when you think too much…er…percolate. I can’t stop imagining Jem and Bailey after the ‘fin’. Where do they go on dates? What are they doing at 10:23 in the morning? What is their first fight about and how do they make up?What about you? Do characters keep you awake at night—the ones you read and the ones you write? Do you contemplate whether your MC would look better in a blue tie or a red tie or no tie at all? Do you know, without thinking, if he likes lemon meringue pie? If yes, you might be a percolator! To which I raise my coffee to salute you and ask: what are your characters doing right now?Thank you, M.A. Church for hosting me on your blog!
Blurb
Under the Table and Into His Heart by Raine O'Tierney
At the Under the Table host club, Valentine’s Day means one thing: cash. Neglected housewives, newly ex-girlfriends, and lovelorn thirtysomethings pay for the attention of handsome men. Shy bartender Jem has always wanted to be a host, and when the club’s owner, Miss Rye, accepts a contract from a MensLove Convention, Jem volunteers to flirt and make out with another host for the ladies’ entertainment. Bailey, an older man who’s had his eye on Jem, convinces Miss Rye to let him be Jem’s partner, and everyone gets more than they expected—especially Jem and Bailey.
Buy link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4673&cPath=55_1024
Excerpt
“I’d like to volunteer.”
“Even if the convention goers wanted a ménage, Bailey, I need you on the floor.”
“Let’s be honest, Miss Rye. Callum’s our number one—his rates are higher anyway, and with your markup—”
“Supply and demand,” she interjected.
“Right. You need Callum on the floor. You’ll make a lot more money off him for that hour than you will me. I’m damned good at what I do: Callum’s more popular.”
“This is strangely humble of you, Bailey.”
“Just looking out for the good of the establishment.”
“Mm-hmm.” Miss Rye’s grey-blue eyes roved over his face. She didn’t even attempt to hide her skepticism. If there was one thing Miss Rye hated, it was bullshit. “Why do you really want to?”
“I told you, for the good of the—”
She cut him off with one of her trademark “don’t screw me with me” expressions.
“You’re right. But my reasons are personal, and I’d rather not go into it.”
“This is a job I’ve assigned to Jem and Callum. If you have a legitimate reason, speak up. Otherwise I’m going to assume you’re wastin’ your time and mine. So?”
For a long moment, it seemed he wouldn’t answer.
“I just don’t want Jem kissing Callum.”
“For Callum or for Jem?”
“What?”
“Which pair of lips are you concerned about, Bailey? Jem’s or Callum’s?”
Bio
Raine O’Tierney is an always-writing, boundlessly enthusiastic, exclamation point addict! (!!!) She is known for declaring every day “the best day EVER!” and every thing her “all-time FAVORITE!” Despite this (obnoxious?) exuberance, she still somehow manages to have a wonderfully encouraging husband, Siôn, (who also writes M/M rom!) and an amazing group of friends and colleagues who continue to support (read: put up with) her. Raine spends her days working as a library lady, fighting the good fight for intellectual freedom.
My links:
Website: http://raineotierney.com/
E-mail: Raineotierney@gmail.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RaineOTierneyAuthor
Twitter: @RaineOTierney
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/RaineOTierney
Blurb
Under the Table and Into His Heart by Raine O'Tierney
At the Under the Table host club, Valentine’s Day means one thing: cash. Neglected housewives, newly ex-girlfriends, and lovelorn thirtysomethings pay for the attention of handsome men. Shy bartender Jem has always wanted to be a host, and when the club’s owner, Miss Rye, accepts a contract from a MensLove Convention, Jem volunteers to flirt and make out with another host for the ladies’ entertainment. Bailey, an older man who’s had his eye on Jem, convinces Miss Rye to let him be Jem’s partner, and everyone gets more than they expected—especially Jem and Bailey.
Buy link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4673&cPath=55_1024
Excerpt
“I’d like to volunteer.”
“Even if the convention goers wanted a ménage, Bailey, I need you on the floor.”
“Let’s be honest, Miss Rye. Callum’s our number one—his rates are higher anyway, and with your markup—”
“Supply and demand,” she interjected.
“Right. You need Callum on the floor. You’ll make a lot more money off him for that hour than you will me. I’m damned good at what I do: Callum’s more popular.”
“This is strangely humble of you, Bailey.”
“Just looking out for the good of the establishment.”
“Mm-hmm.” Miss Rye’s grey-blue eyes roved over his face. She didn’t even attempt to hide her skepticism. If there was one thing Miss Rye hated, it was bullshit. “Why do you really want to?”
“I told you, for the good of the—”
She cut him off with one of her trademark “don’t screw me with me” expressions.
“You’re right. But my reasons are personal, and I’d rather not go into it.”
“This is a job I’ve assigned to Jem and Callum. If you have a legitimate reason, speak up. Otherwise I’m going to assume you’re wastin’ your time and mine. So?”
For a long moment, it seemed he wouldn’t answer.
“I just don’t want Jem kissing Callum.”
“For Callum or for Jem?”
“What?”
“Which pair of lips are you concerned about, Bailey? Jem’s or Callum’s?”
Bio
Raine O’Tierney is an always-writing, boundlessly enthusiastic, exclamation point addict! (!!!) She is known for declaring every day “the best day EVER!” and every thing her “all-time FAVORITE!” Despite this (obnoxious?) exuberance, she still somehow manages to have a wonderfully encouraging husband, Siôn, (who also writes M/M rom!) and an amazing group of friends and colleagues who continue to support (read: put up with) her. Raine spends her days working as a library lady, fighting the good fight for intellectual freedom.
My links:
Website: http://raineotierney.com/
E-mail: Raineotierney@gmail.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RaineOTierneyAuthor
Twitter: @RaineOTierney
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/RaineOTierney
January 31, 2014
Anyone up to helping pick character names?
*Bangs head on keyboard*
Okay, my Muse woke me up this morning. Oh God, that hasn't happened since... Well, Harvest was the last time I dreamed up a story. For those of you around from back then, you know what that means lol.
HUGE FREAKING STORY LINE!!!
I mean, Harvest took a year to write and ended up around 200K. I'm about to scream because I really don't have time for something this time consuming right now. And yes, I've been at this all day... just taking notes!
*sigh*
So, I took notes. It looks like it's M/M scifi again. Two planets at war over a resource. Heck, I'll throw some of my notes up here for ya. This isn't *all* of my notes, but it's enough to give ya an idea of the story line. I think this is going to be an enemies to lover story, which means there will be some kidnapping going on and probably dub/con sex at first. That's if the whole thing doesn't dry up on me lol. And keep in mind, this is still very early in the planning stage. Changes might, and probably will, happen lol.
~Conflict: Black Phospolrock - through phospolthesis, the rock releases a chemical compound that is refined and contained. It’s then sold to other plants the Draknorians have treaties with as a fuel. The Yesri has since gone to war for what they want.
~Planet – Draknoir. Called Draknoirians
~The Draknoirians planet is a Nightshade planet. Meaning, they have only two hours of daylight. Rest of the time is darkness. They control access to the Phospolrock. Rich culture and educated, but violent. Has both males and females. Live below ground.
~Highly developed senses of hearing- pointed ears, but placed at the same place as human ears.
~Specially adapted slit pupils - Their eyes can adapt to both low-level and bright day levels of illumination. Color can range a dark maze to bright golden yellow. They can see at only one sixth the light level required for the other species.
~Pale skin. Almost have a fey look to them. They are *not* feline lol.
~fangs
~Planet – Yesri. Called Yesrians
~ppl live above ground.
~ has a day/night cycle. 22 hours of sun. 8 hours of night. A day is 30 hours long.
~All ppl have shades various shades of blonde hair. Eye come in three colors: green or blue… There are brown eyes, but those are rare and found only in the ruling family. Look human.
~Ruler wants Phospolrock. Need it for their ecomomy. But they are also scared of the Draknoir. Rumors say they bite and drain their victims of life. Hmmm... didn't say blood.
But here's what I'm wanting - pick two names for the main characters:
Varo
Rayno
Adlar
Yerla
Imnok
Hovic
Leave the names in a comment please. :) Kinda interested in seeing what names are best liked lol.
Okay, my Muse woke me up this morning. Oh God, that hasn't happened since... Well, Harvest was the last time I dreamed up a story. For those of you around from back then, you know what that means lol.
HUGE FREAKING STORY LINE!!!
I mean, Harvest took a year to write and ended up around 200K. I'm about to scream because I really don't have time for something this time consuming right now. And yes, I've been at this all day... just taking notes!
*sigh*
So, I took notes. It looks like it's M/M scifi again. Two planets at war over a resource. Heck, I'll throw some of my notes up here for ya. This isn't *all* of my notes, but it's enough to give ya an idea of the story line. I think this is going to be an enemies to lover story, which means there will be some kidnapping going on and probably dub/con sex at first. That's if the whole thing doesn't dry up on me lol. And keep in mind, this is still very early in the planning stage. Changes might, and probably will, happen lol.
~Conflict: Black Phospolrock - through phospolthesis, the rock releases a chemical compound that is refined and contained. It’s then sold to other plants the Draknorians have treaties with as a fuel. The Yesri has since gone to war for what they want.
~Planet – Draknoir. Called Draknoirians
~The Draknoirians planet is a Nightshade planet. Meaning, they have only two hours of daylight. Rest of the time is darkness. They control access to the Phospolrock. Rich culture and educated, but violent. Has both males and females. Live below ground.
~Highly developed senses of hearing- pointed ears, but placed at the same place as human ears.
~Specially adapted slit pupils - Their eyes can adapt to both low-level and bright day levels of illumination. Color can range a dark maze to bright golden yellow. They can see at only one sixth the light level required for the other species.
~Pale skin. Almost have a fey look to them. They are *not* feline lol.
~fangs
~Planet – Yesri. Called Yesrians
~ppl live above ground.
~ has a day/night cycle. 22 hours of sun. 8 hours of night. A day is 30 hours long.
~All ppl have shades various shades of blonde hair. Eye come in three colors: green or blue… There are brown eyes, but those are rare and found only in the ruling family. Look human.
~Ruler wants Phospolrock. Need it for their ecomomy. But they are also scared of the Draknoir. Rumors say they bite and drain their victims of life. Hmmm... didn't say blood.
But here's what I'm wanting - pick two names for the main characters:
Varo
Rayno
Adlar
Yerla
Imnok
Hovic
Leave the names in a comment please. :) Kinda interested in seeing what names are best liked lol.
January 28, 2014
Wednesday Briefs - Trouble Comes in Threes 2.2
[image error]
Welcome to the Wednesday Briefs flash group (click to go to the site). The short stories have a maximum of a 1000 word count plus links at the bottom to the other flashers. This week's prompts are:
"A dog at a flea circus is likely to steal the show."
"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."
"A friend is someone who has the same enemies you have."
"It was only a joke."
"Oh, give me a break."
"The deepest waters make the least noise."
or use: jeans, coffee table, Times Square
or use: pizza, birdhouse, ceiling fan
or feature a swimming pool in your story
or use: flashlight, pencil, cell phone
or use a machete in some way
or use: phone book, boots, flag
or "Make yourself at home"
or use a WEP key
Trouble Comes in Threes 2.2
The two cats ambled over to me. Tiger jumped on the couch, turned in a circle a few times then flopped down next to my leg. He leaned against me, paws under him. Snowball claimed the other side. I drank my beer, watching as Snowball squirmed until he found a comfortable position.“Can’t you get fixed?”One ear twitched. Finally he got still. The first thing I noticed was the heat these two put off. It was amazing. It seared right through my jeans. It was like having my own personal heaters. Wow, not only did they put off heat, they were heavy too. I sat up enough to swipe the remote off the coffee table—disrupting both cats, of course—then eased back against the couch. Both of them expressed their displeasure with me by kneading my legs, turning circles again, and flopping back down. Once they arranged themselves in a satisfactory manner—and got me how they wanted—the purring started. Okay, that was… nice. Relaxing, even. Who knew? I glanced at the clock, seeing the time. The old year was slowly ticking down. I wouldn’t be sad to see it go, even if it did suck that I was alone and at home. I took another big gulp of beer and flipped through the TV channels. Well, guess I could watch the ball drop in Times Square. There sure wasn’t anything else on worth a damn tonight.I flipped between that and an old crime show as I finished my beer. “Okay, boys, I need to get up.”Neither cat so much as twitched. I looked from one cat to the other. Nope, no signs of movement. “Hmm, hello? Getting up here.”Finally Tiger opened his eyes, yawned, then glanced over at me. The look I received was nothing short of total exasperation. Nice, I’d managed to annoy a cat. Things were looking up.“Look, if I could levitate the damn beer in here, don’t you think I would? Now clear out, I’m getting up.” Neither cat moved. Fine. I stood, amidst much huffing and puffing by the cats. Seeing how close the coffee table was to the couch, I had turn to scoot past it. As I passed by Tiger, he reached out and lazily batted at me.My mouth dropped. “You did not just… Really? You swatted me?”“Meeer.” Tiger stretched, one paw reaching out toward me again.“Look, cat, if you want any more tuna you’ll—” Snowball suddenly leaped off the couch and head-butted me. “What the hell, Snowball? I guess you’re on his side, huh?” The white cat rubbed against my leg, back arched, tail held high. Then the bastard swatted me too. “Whoa, tag-teaming is against the rules.” I stumbled my way to the kitchen with Snowball weaving in and out of my feet. “You can not do this when I’m plastered, kitty. You’ll have me on my ass in no time.” And I totally tended to get plastered.Snowball let out a sharp little meow then left me to check out the water bowl. Shaking my head at the white cat, I opened the refrigerator door, grabbed another beer, and popped the top. “Guess I’d better hit the john if there’s going to be this much complaining when I try to get off the damn couch.” [image error] The half-bath was closer, so I used that. Now that I was staring at the commode, I was dying to piss. I lifted the seat, unbuttoned, and pulled out my… And suddenly, there was an itch between my shoulder blades. I hunched my back, my body tensing. Chill bumps raced over my skin. What the fuck? Holding my cock loosely, I gradually turned my head… and meet freaky blue eyes watching me.“Jesus Fucking Christ!” Well, pissing was out of the question now. “What are you doing, Tiger?”“Mmmmrl.”“I’m trying to piss.” The damn cat just sat there, staring. When I entered the bathroom, I must not have shut the door completely. I was tempted, so tempted, to turn and shoot, so to speak. Really. But having my junk hanging out persuaded me that wouldn’t be a good idea. “Would you leave?”Nothing.“Please?”That odd blue gaze raked over me once more, then out he went. Hurriedly I used my foot to shut the door. “Thank God.” After a few seconds, my bladder unlocked and I could piss. Just as I buttoned up, a white paw stuck itself under the door, looking for something to swat. “Oh, for crying out loud, you too?”Something told me the days of going to the bathroom alone were over. I smirked as I opened the door, beer in hand. They wanted in there with me so bad? No problem. Let me eat chili a time or two and I’d bet they’d tear the door down trying to get out. Two could play that game. I returned to the living area to find they were both on the couch, waiting on me. I joined them, settling down to watch the ball drop in Times Square. People cried, threw confetti, kissed, and acted all happy and shit. I finished off my beer and had another to celebrate the new fucking year, which could kiss my ass if it didn’t go better than last year. By the time I finished the third beer, I was buzzing quite nicely. Which meant it was time to start on the fourth.
By one in the morning I was groaning at the sleazy phone hotline commercials. All they had were girls. Where were the studs? By two in the morning, I was telling the cats dirty jokes. By three in the morning, all I could do was giggle at nothing.
Make sure to check out the other flashers!Jon KeysShelly SchulzJC WallaceGrace Duncan Rob ColtonLily Sawyer Michael MandrakeRaine O’TierneyVictoria AdamsChris T. KatTali SpencerElyzabeth VaLey Renee StevensMC Houle Julie Lynn Hayes
Cia Nordwell
Andrew Q. Gordon
Welcome to the Wednesday Briefs flash group (click to go to the site). The short stories have a maximum of a 1000 word count plus links at the bottom to the other flashers. This week's prompts are:
"A dog at a flea circus is likely to steal the show."
"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."
"A friend is someone who has the same enemies you have."
"It was only a joke."
"Oh, give me a break."
"The deepest waters make the least noise."
or use: jeans, coffee table, Times Square
or use: pizza, birdhouse, ceiling fan
or feature a swimming pool in your story
or use: flashlight, pencil, cell phone
or use a machete in some way
or use: phone book, boots, flag
or "Make yourself at home"
or use a WEP key
Trouble Comes in Threes 2.2
The two cats ambled over to me. Tiger jumped on the couch, turned in a circle a few times then flopped down next to my leg. He leaned against me, paws under him. Snowball claimed the other side. I drank my beer, watching as Snowball squirmed until he found a comfortable position.“Can’t you get fixed?”One ear twitched. Finally he got still. The first thing I noticed was the heat these two put off. It was amazing. It seared right through my jeans. It was like having my own personal heaters. Wow, not only did they put off heat, they were heavy too. I sat up enough to swipe the remote off the coffee table—disrupting both cats, of course—then eased back against the couch. Both of them expressed their displeasure with me by kneading my legs, turning circles again, and flopping back down. Once they arranged themselves in a satisfactory manner—and got me how they wanted—the purring started. Okay, that was… nice. Relaxing, even. Who knew? I glanced at the clock, seeing the time. The old year was slowly ticking down. I wouldn’t be sad to see it go, even if it did suck that I was alone and at home. I took another big gulp of beer and flipped through the TV channels. Well, guess I could watch the ball drop in Times Square. There sure wasn’t anything else on worth a damn tonight.I flipped between that and an old crime show as I finished my beer. “Okay, boys, I need to get up.”Neither cat so much as twitched. I looked from one cat to the other. Nope, no signs of movement. “Hmm, hello? Getting up here.”Finally Tiger opened his eyes, yawned, then glanced over at me. The look I received was nothing short of total exasperation. Nice, I’d managed to annoy a cat. Things were looking up.“Look, if I could levitate the damn beer in here, don’t you think I would? Now clear out, I’m getting up.” Neither cat moved. Fine. I stood, amidst much huffing and puffing by the cats. Seeing how close the coffee table was to the couch, I had turn to scoot past it. As I passed by Tiger, he reached out and lazily batted at me.My mouth dropped. “You did not just… Really? You swatted me?”“Meeer.” Tiger stretched, one paw reaching out toward me again.“Look, cat, if you want any more tuna you’ll—” Snowball suddenly leaped off the couch and head-butted me. “What the hell, Snowball? I guess you’re on his side, huh?” The white cat rubbed against my leg, back arched, tail held high. Then the bastard swatted me too. “Whoa, tag-teaming is against the rules.” I stumbled my way to the kitchen with Snowball weaving in and out of my feet. “You can not do this when I’m plastered, kitty. You’ll have me on my ass in no time.” And I totally tended to get plastered.Snowball let out a sharp little meow then left me to check out the water bowl. Shaking my head at the white cat, I opened the refrigerator door, grabbed another beer, and popped the top. “Guess I’d better hit the john if there’s going to be this much complaining when I try to get off the damn couch.” [image error] The half-bath was closer, so I used that. Now that I was staring at the commode, I was dying to piss. I lifted the seat, unbuttoned, and pulled out my… And suddenly, there was an itch between my shoulder blades. I hunched my back, my body tensing. Chill bumps raced over my skin. What the fuck? Holding my cock loosely, I gradually turned my head… and meet freaky blue eyes watching me.“Jesus Fucking Christ!” Well, pissing was out of the question now. “What are you doing, Tiger?”“Mmmmrl.”“I’m trying to piss.” The damn cat just sat there, staring. When I entered the bathroom, I must not have shut the door completely. I was tempted, so tempted, to turn and shoot, so to speak. Really. But having my junk hanging out persuaded me that wouldn’t be a good idea. “Would you leave?”Nothing.“Please?”That odd blue gaze raked over me once more, then out he went. Hurriedly I used my foot to shut the door. “Thank God.” After a few seconds, my bladder unlocked and I could piss. Just as I buttoned up, a white paw stuck itself under the door, looking for something to swat. “Oh, for crying out loud, you too?”Something told me the days of going to the bathroom alone were over. I smirked as I opened the door, beer in hand. They wanted in there with me so bad? No problem. Let me eat chili a time or two and I’d bet they’d tear the door down trying to get out. Two could play that game. I returned to the living area to find they were both on the couch, waiting on me. I joined them, settling down to watch the ball drop in Times Square. People cried, threw confetti, kissed, and acted all happy and shit. I finished off my beer and had another to celebrate the new fucking year, which could kiss my ass if it didn’t go better than last year. By the time I finished the third beer, I was buzzing quite nicely. Which meant it was time to start on the fourth.
By one in the morning I was groaning at the sleazy phone hotline commercials. All they had were girls. Where were the studs? By two in the morning, I was telling the cats dirty jokes. By three in the morning, all I could do was giggle at nothing.
Make sure to check out the other flashers!Jon KeysShelly SchulzJC WallaceGrace Duncan Rob ColtonLily Sawyer Michael MandrakeRaine O’TierneyVictoria AdamsChris T. KatTali SpencerElyzabeth VaLey Renee StevensMC Houle Julie Lynn Hayes
Cia Nordwell
Andrew Q. Gordon
January 27, 2014
Welcome Alicia Nordwell - The Experiment
The Science of Making Up Science Fiction
One of the best things about science fiction is the ability to take a known and make it unknown. It’s all about taking what we know can happen, or might happen, and actually MAKE it happen. That isn’t to say we can do whatever we want as authors. There must be boundaries and rules that make sense. For me, a lot of my ideas come from what I know. Inspiration can come from anywhere when it comes to my fantasy or science fiction.
So let’s start this week off with a look at one of the basic elements to my story to make my aliens ‘alien’. In this story we only see the Caeorleians and humans, and in a lot of ways they’re not that different. Yet, they can’t see eye to eye, mostly due to the fact there is no way to share communication.
Caeorleians have a unique way to communicate. They have mouths but they don’t use them for speech. Instead, they emit a humming vibration that isn’t audible the way we hear speech. There’s no sound to ‘hear’ for humans, but those with the special shypsoid bone in their ear can sense the vibrations. Ryker, a human that’s been injected with a serum made from Seral’s Caeorleian DNA, has grown that bone along with a host of other changes. Since he’s been ‘hearing’ the vibrations when the guards and doctors speak he’s manage to relate human words to the vibrations he hears.
How did I come up with this idea? Well, it all goes back to one of our cats. Of course, he was the inspiration for my cat Carthera too. Very useful, Samwell is. I’m his favorite perch, of course, and he likes to hang out on my shoulders. One day I had my head leaned against him while he was asleep, but still purring faintly. It was just enough to keep tickling my ear, but not enough to make me move because I was comfy too. At least, until my husband tried talking to me, and I had to move so I could hear him clearly.
Voila… Inspiration and whole new world is born!
It can come in many forms, lol. I never know when something might hit me, but I always love running with the ideas and seeing what happens. In this case, it really worked.
Buy Now! Dreamspinner Press All Romance eBooks Amazon
Synopsis:
In the distant future, humans wage war against the alien planet Caeorleia, with no tactic off-limits if it will help the humans get their hands on Caeorleia’s resources. Ask Ryker. He thought he volunteered for a simple experiment that would help his government in the war. He didn't realize sadistic doctors would turn him into the experiment—by injecting him with blood from a captured Caeorleian, Seral Iorflas.
Nor did Ryker realize he’d be sent to sabotage a planet full of the very beings his world is battling, beings who kill humans on sight. But then, thanks to the experiment that irrevocably changed him, he isn’t exactly human any longer—and with each passing day, as his blood bond with Seral strengthens, he’s less and less sure as to whose side he's on.
Excerpt:
“Kill me now,” I whimpered, “please just kill me.”“Oh no, little tziu, I won’t do that.” His face loomed in my vision, and his fingers traced the marks on my skin again. “I will discover everything that is in you, and then we will see just who you are to me. The nelho may have given us a gift that has great worth, one they can’t even begin to imagine.”I shouted and shoved at him with my arms, trying to squirm out from underneath his lean body. I closed my eyes, hiding the tears that threatened to fall when I couldn’t even move him an inch. He said they were going to see what was in me.They were going to dissect me like the doctors had done to the other men on the ship, and I couldn’t get away from them!I moaned in fear. I shook so hard it felt like I was going to fall apart, my arms and legs drumming against the metal floor. My back arched as my heels rapped an offbeat tattoo on the hard surface.“Tziu? Tziu, stop it!”I couldn’t move the alien male off of me when I’d tried, but he was barely able to stay astride me while my body was beyond my control. I couldn’t have stopped even if I wanted to. I was going into shock.Maybe the doctor on the ship had been wrong. Maybe his needle full of nano-rich alien blood would kill me.The pain was indescribable. I could feel muscles all over my body locking and then releasing randomly, each contraction an agonizing spasm of pain. My jaw froze and then fell open, the scream swelling in my throat finally free to emerge.The sound bounced off the walls, a shrill cry that sent every alien in the shuttle to their knees. The scream went on and on until my lungs burned from lack of air. Seral’s face loomed over me, his black eyes glittering. His mouth was open in a harsh snarl, and I saw a flash of his fangs before my neck muscles tightened and drew my head back. My hands scrabbled at the floor as I choked.Like a bolt of lightning, a new pain penetrated my consciousness. My exposed neck was locked between the alien’s jaws. Hot and sharp, the fangs slid out, and his full lips sealed over the puncture wounds.
Author Bio:
Alicia Nordwell is one of those not so rare creatures, a reader turned writer. Striving to find something interesting to read one day, she decided to write what she wanted instead. Then the voices started... Yep, not only does she talk about herself in the third person for bios, she has voices in her head constantly clamoring to get out. Fortunately for readers, with the encouragement of her family and friends, she decided for her own sanity to keep writing. Now you can find her stories both free and e-published! Oh yeah, she's a wife, mom of two, and lives in the dreary, yet ideal for her redhead complexion, Pacific Northwest. Except for when she disappears into one of the many worlds in her head, of course!
BLOG * FACEBOOK * GOODREADS * TWITTER: @AliciaNordwell
One of the best things about science fiction is the ability to take a known and make it unknown. It’s all about taking what we know can happen, or might happen, and actually MAKE it happen. That isn’t to say we can do whatever we want as authors. There must be boundaries and rules that make sense. For me, a lot of my ideas come from what I know. Inspiration can come from anywhere when it comes to my fantasy or science fiction. So let’s start this week off with a look at one of the basic elements to my story to make my aliens ‘alien’. In this story we only see the Caeorleians and humans, and in a lot of ways they’re not that different. Yet, they can’t see eye to eye, mostly due to the fact there is no way to share communication.
Caeorleians have a unique way to communicate. They have mouths but they don’t use them for speech. Instead, they emit a humming vibration that isn’t audible the way we hear speech. There’s no sound to ‘hear’ for humans, but those with the special shypsoid bone in their ear can sense the vibrations. Ryker, a human that’s been injected with a serum made from Seral’s Caeorleian DNA, has grown that bone along with a host of other changes. Since he’s been ‘hearing’ the vibrations when the guards and doctors speak he’s manage to relate human words to the vibrations he hears.
How did I come up with this idea? Well, it all goes back to one of our cats. Of course, he was the inspiration for my cat Carthera too. Very useful, Samwell is. I’m his favorite perch, of course, and he likes to hang out on my shoulders. One day I had my head leaned against him while he was asleep, but still purring faintly. It was just enough to keep tickling my ear, but not enough to make me move because I was comfy too. At least, until my husband tried talking to me, and I had to move so I could hear him clearly.
Voila… Inspiration and whole new world is born! It can come in many forms, lol. I never know when something might hit me, but I always love running with the ideas and seeing what happens. In this case, it really worked.
Buy Now! Dreamspinner Press All Romance eBooks Amazon
Synopsis:
In the distant future, humans wage war against the alien planet Caeorleia, with no tactic off-limits if it will help the humans get their hands on Caeorleia’s resources. Ask Ryker. He thought he volunteered for a simple experiment that would help his government in the war. He didn't realize sadistic doctors would turn him into the experiment—by injecting him with blood from a captured Caeorleian, Seral Iorflas.
Nor did Ryker realize he’d be sent to sabotage a planet full of the very beings his world is battling, beings who kill humans on sight. But then, thanks to the experiment that irrevocably changed him, he isn’t exactly human any longer—and with each passing day, as his blood bond with Seral strengthens, he’s less and less sure as to whose side he's on.
Excerpt:
“Kill me now,” I whimpered, “please just kill me.”“Oh no, little tziu, I won’t do that.” His face loomed in my vision, and his fingers traced the marks on my skin again. “I will discover everything that is in you, and then we will see just who you are to me. The nelho may have given us a gift that has great worth, one they can’t even begin to imagine.”I shouted and shoved at him with my arms, trying to squirm out from underneath his lean body. I closed my eyes, hiding the tears that threatened to fall when I couldn’t even move him an inch. He said they were going to see what was in me.They were going to dissect me like the doctors had done to the other men on the ship, and I couldn’t get away from them!I moaned in fear. I shook so hard it felt like I was going to fall apart, my arms and legs drumming against the metal floor. My back arched as my heels rapped an offbeat tattoo on the hard surface.“Tziu? Tziu, stop it!”I couldn’t move the alien male off of me when I’d tried, but he was barely able to stay astride me while my body was beyond my control. I couldn’t have stopped even if I wanted to. I was going into shock.Maybe the doctor on the ship had been wrong. Maybe his needle full of nano-rich alien blood would kill me.The pain was indescribable. I could feel muscles all over my body locking and then releasing randomly, each contraction an agonizing spasm of pain. My jaw froze and then fell open, the scream swelling in my throat finally free to emerge.The sound bounced off the walls, a shrill cry that sent every alien in the shuttle to their knees. The scream went on and on until my lungs burned from lack of air. Seral’s face loomed over me, his black eyes glittering. His mouth was open in a harsh snarl, and I saw a flash of his fangs before my neck muscles tightened and drew my head back. My hands scrabbled at the floor as I choked.Like a bolt of lightning, a new pain penetrated my consciousness. My exposed neck was locked between the alien’s jaws. Hot and sharp, the fangs slid out, and his full lips sealed over the puncture wounds.
Author Bio:
Alicia Nordwell is one of those not so rare creatures, a reader turned writer. Striving to find something interesting to read one day, she decided to write what she wanted instead. Then the voices started... Yep, not only does she talk about herself in the third person for bios, she has voices in her head constantly clamoring to get out. Fortunately for readers, with the encouragement of her family and friends, she decided for her own sanity to keep writing. Now you can find her stories both free and e-published! Oh yeah, she's a wife, mom of two, and lives in the dreary, yet ideal for her redhead complexion, Pacific Northwest. Except for when she disappears into one of the many worlds in her head, of course!
BLOG * FACEBOOK * GOODREADS * TWITTER: @AliciaNordwell
January 26, 2014
Welcome Julie Lynn Hayes - When Will I See You Again
http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/WhenWillISeeYouAgain.html
Today I’ve traveled to Crescent Bay, a seaside town whose biggest claim to fame lies with its supernatural inhabitants. I’ll be interviewing two of the residents today, to get their take on life in Crescent Bay from both sides of the railroad tracks, so to speak.My first stop is the infamous night club, Charisma. Anyone who knows of the town knows about Charisma, and the man who draws people to it like a magnet. What could be more fitting than I should interview the crown prince himself, Raoul Marchand. This wasn’t easy to do, believe me. I had to pull a few strings to get his agreement to this. Let’s hope he’s in a good mood and willing to talk.It’s still fairly early when I arrive. Hopefully, I can avoid most of the crowds. I hear people line up just to get into this place, to witness the phenomenon that is Raoul Marchand. Well, I’m ready to be wowed. There is only a short line, luckily, when I arrive, and when I reach the head of the line and start to pull out my ID, the bouncer waves me in. I’m not sure if I should be glad or insulted.Another bouncer greets me inside. “Good evening, I’m Paolo. You must be Julie?” I nod. “Raoul is waiting for you. Right this way.” I follow him down a hallway, which opens up into a very bright and shining place indeed. Flashing colored lights bounce off platinum and chrome surfaces, exuding a certain energy. A large circular bar dominates the room like a command post. It’s covered in mirror tiles streaked with dark blue veins the color of night.“Right down there.” My guide points to the end of the bar, and I spot him. It’s hard to miss him, even at this distance. He has a most commanding presence. “Thanks, Paolo.” I give him a smile and proceed. As I approach, the man stands, and I tell myself to please not drool when I’m speaking to him, but I know it won’t be easy. He’s tall, dark, and hunkalicious. His dark hair falls down his back—to his ass, I hazard a hopeful guess—and his eyes glitter with a fierce intensity. He is very well put together, and he doesn’t dress to hide it. He’s a veritable god.“Thank you for agreeing to this, Mr. Marchand,” I say as I reach out my hand. He takes it for just a moment before returning it to me, gesturing toward a leather and chrome bar stool beside his own. He shrugs. “My father thought it was a good idea.” Does that mean Raoul doesn’t? I wonder.“What would you like to drink?” he asks.I think a moment before ordering an amaretto sour. He relays that to the bartender, and orders himself a marguerita. The bartender seems friendly enough. He quickly brings our drinks then leaves us to our own devices.“What would you like to know?”Well, that’s... to the point, isn’t it? Good thing I borrowed Sarah’s voice recorder. Otherwise, I might not remember a thing.“Mr. Marchand... may I call you Raoul?”I hear a low growl and I wonder if someone brought a dog into the bar before I realize it’s my host. Then the sound is gone as he replies. “If you wish.”“So...” I think I’ll skirt the name thing for now. “How long have you been running Charisma?”“About twenty years.”“That’s a long time for someone so young. How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”“Of course I don’t mind. Age doesn’t make a difference. I’m forty.”“So you started in the business pretty young?”“My father gave it to me to run, so it was pretty well laid in my lap.” He gives me an enigmatic look as he picks up his glass and drinks. I think for a moment. “Let’s see, your father is Philippe Marchand, right? So he started Charisma? When was that?”“About fifty years ago. But it wasn’t a night club, it was a restaurant.”“Oh, I see. Did he close the restaurant?”“No, he moved it across town and gave me the night club.”“That was nice of him. Why did he do that?” I’m thinking maybe a graduation present or something. Must be nice, right?I think I said something wrong. He gets this look I can’t describe... like he’s just assumed a mask of indifference. He pulls a phone from his pocket, glances at it and then at me.I think I’m living on borrowed time, so I cast about in my mind for another subject.“The Marchands are the largest and most well known supernaturals in this part of the country, aren’t they?”“Yes.”Short and sweet.“I know that with drugs, lycanthropes don’t have to suffer through the change any more. What a blessing that must be for you and your family.”“Yes it is.” Hmm, not getting anywhere there. Try something else.“Tell me, Raoul, is there a special someone in your life?” That has to be good, get him to talk about his girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Whichever.Suddenly he rises, slams his glass onto the bar. “I’m done,” he announces. “Find your own way out.” And before I can respond, he’s flounced off, toward the dance floor. Ooh, I hate to see him go, but I love to watch him leave.Wait, he’s picking someone out of the crowd, and all the people around him are going nuts, trying to gain his attention. I watch as he selects a young man and leads him away. Ah, it was fun while it lasted. Guess I’ll get some rest at the hotel and go to my next interview tomorrow. I’m sure there’s a story there, one he’s not ready to share.The next day, I’m up bright and early. My next interviewee is meeting me at my hotel on his way to work, and he said he doesn’t have long. I can live with that.I take the elevator down and make my way to the restaurant, which is sparsely populated. He’s already there, and looking rather chipper for so early in the day. He waves me to the table he’s at, and as I join him a very kindhearted waitress brings a cup and a pot of nectar of the gods. Good, I’ll be able to think.I add sweetener and cream and smile at the young man. He has thick red hair and bright blue eyes and a very energetic smile. “You must be Alexx Jameson?” I hazard a guess.“I am. And you’re Julie?”“Right the first time.”Okay, down to business, since he doesn’t have very long.“I’m flattered you called me,” he says, “but I can’t imagine anyone wants to read about me, you know? I’m no one special. Just a guy who works for the Chronicle.”“Everyone is someone,” I reassure him. “So, what do you do there, Alexx?”“I’m a go-fer, I guess. I work in the mail room, but I do whatever they need me to do. Like get their morning coffees, which is my next stop.”“How long have you worked at the Chronicle?” The Crescent Bay Chronicle is the town’s one newspaper, owned by Joseph Levine, head of a family that is second in size and position to the Marchands.“About two years now.”“Were you born here?”“No, I wasn’t. I lived in another state entirely. Chance brought me to Crescent Bay and got me a job at the paper.”“Chance or fate?” I can’t help but smile. He sips at his coffee and grins back. He seems like a very nice young man, very easygoing.“So where do you see yourself in a few years?” I ask.“Hopefully as a reporter at the Chronicle,” he confesses, a faint blush rising up his cheeks, as if he isn’t used to speaking about his dreams.“What kind of reporter do you have in mind to be? Sports, fashion, general news?”“Crime,” he admits. “Something there isn’t really a lot of in Crescent Bay. But it would be a start. Who knows what after that?’“The sky’s the limit. And if it’s meant to be, you know... maybe something is just around the corner for you?”“I hope so.” He finished the rest of his cup and rises. “I’m sorry to drink and run, but there are people who will be very upset with me if I don’t get their morning coffees and stuff.” He rolls his eyes in a playful way. “Save us from divas.”I can’t help but laugh. “I’ve met a few of those in my time.” I rise and hold out my hand. He takes it. “Nice to meet you, Alexx, thanks for talking to me. I’ll send you a copy of the interview when it comes out.”“Nice to meet you too, Julie.” He gives me another smile and quickly hurries out of the restaurant. I, on the other hand, am starved, so I sit back down and glance at the menu. Might as well eat while I’m here. Then go home and put these interviews together.So, there you are. Two different men, two different stories.Hmmm, wonder if their worlds will ever collide?
Blurb:Raoul Marchand is the crown prince of Charisma, the infamous night club in Crescent Bay, renowned for its supernatural clientele. He has the pick of any and all men, but he cares for none. He uses them and throws them away again, and has done so for some twenty years, in the aftermath of a tragedy that robbed him of what he loved most in the world.Alexx Jameson is an idealistic young would-be reporter with the Crescent Bay Chronicle. Presented with an opportunity to write a story on the Marchands, he eagerly grasps the chance to be a real reporter. His friend, Chronicle receptionist Miller Fenwick, suggests they go to Charisma to do a little research. Alexx isn’t sure that’s such a great idea. After all, he’s still under age, being only twenty. No problem, Miller can fix that! Added bonus, there’s a full moon tonight.When Alexx first encounters Raoul, it isn’t exactly in the way he dreamed of, and he’s sure he made a terrible first impression. But Fate throws them together under unforeseen circumstances, and the attraction between them can’t be denied. Can Raoul let go of the past long enough to find his future with Alexx, or is he doomed to repeat past mistakes?Excerpt:Alexx drew in his breath in dismay. This wasn’t going well. Even so, he could not stop staring at Raoul. His eyes met the other man’s. Raoul’s were very golden; he wasn’t aware such colors even existed in the spectrum of the human eye. But then again, he didn’t have any friends that were werewolves either. He wondered if this was a sign that perhaps this man was about to change, right here and now? The thought was both exhilarating and frightening.Alexx’s vision telescoped until he wasn’t aware of anything but this gorgeous man in front of him. Blood pounded in his ears and his mouth felt suddenly dry. Having lost all sense of the others in the room, he was surprised when he felt his chair yanked out from under him. Before he could fall, a hand grabbed the scruff of his neck, propelling him to his feet. He glanced at his companion; Miller was being subjected to the same surly treatment.“You waste my time for this?” Raoul’s upper lip curled back in a snarl. Alexx found himself wildly attracted to him. “I have somewhere I need to be. Paolo, please show these gentlemen out.” Sarcastic much? He turned and reached for the door, but it opened before he touched it. A shaggy blond with hazel eyes and a cheerful countenance stuck his head inside. “Hey Paolo—” He interrupted himself at the sight of the occupants of the room. Alexx heard Miller’s sigh of relief, even as he too recognized the newcomer. He’d seen him around the Chronicle often enough, although he’d never really spoken to him. Foster Levine, son of the Chronicle’s owner—heir apparent and future newspaper magnate.Alexx’s relief quickly changed to anxiety. What if Foster knew how old he really was? He couldn’t be sure one way or the other, but for the sake of argument, he had to assume he did. Would he out him to Raoul Marchand and his burly minion? Had they simply jumped from the frying pan to be scorched by the fire?
Author Bio:Julie Lynn Hayes was reading at the age of two and writing by the age of nine and always wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Two marriages, five children, and more than forty years later, that is still her dream. She blames her younger daughters for introducing her to yaoi and the world of M/M love, a world which has captured her imagination and her heart and fueled her writing in ways she'd never dreamed of before. She especially loves stories of two men finding true love and happiness in one another's arms and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and two cats, loves books and movies, and hopes to be a world traveler some day. She enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stitch, knitting and needlepoint and loves to cook. While working a temporary day job, she continues to write her books and stories and reviews, which she posts in various places on the internet. Her family thinks she is a bit off, but she doesn't mind. Marching to the beat of one's own drummer is a good thing, after all. Her published works can be found at Amber Quill Press, Dreamspinner Press, MuseitUp Publishing, Torquere Press, and eXtasy Books. She is also an editor at MuseitUp.
My links:
Blog http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.comTwitter @Shelley_runyonFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/julie.l.haye...
My Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3442231.Julie_Lynn_Hayes
Email:tothewolf.max@gmail.com
January 25, 2014
DRUM ROLL, PLEASE...
JaNo
Ashley E
Kim R
Okay, guys, I'll be emailing ya shortly! Thanks to everyone who entered. There'll be another giveaway coming soon!~M
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