Augusta Fern's Blog, page 3
May 3, 2014
The SHIT has hit the FAN...more arrivals, more problems
In no time we are flying over the Riverwalk, I take lead of Keane and we land just outside my warehouse haven where, there, sits the very nice car Myra described. A Jet black Mercedes C series, four door sedan with its sleek body style and alloy wheel rims sits gleaming under broken street lamps. The windows and windshields are tinted so dark it’s indiscernible who is inside.
Keane and I stare at the darkened front windshield as it fades revealing, a petite bleach blonde behind the wheel. She sits absolutely still until I begin to approach the car and her blonde head tilts. She shoots up a single finger directing us upstairs; the windshield fades back to black. I look up to see the lights of my haven have been illuminated; I return my stare to the car as I walk toward the door to the warehouse.
Keane and I take the rickety elevator up to the fifth floor; I reach down to fling the gate up when he remarks on my dwelling, “You live here? Cian?” Sympathetic undertone dances around my name.
I don’t have the chance to defend my haven before we recognize a familiar voice, “Of course he does, self-flagellating bastard that he is.” I look inside and see Fallon dressed to the nines in a black pinstripe suit.
“Fuck me! Fallon!” Keane rushes past me to happily embrace our brother, but I am less than receptive to not only his arrival but his impudence in breaking into my warehouse. I slowly cross the elevator threshold and slide the gate to latch. Fallon uncrosses his legs and rises from his seat on the old couch. He tosses his long bone straight brown locks over his shoulder, grabbing Keane in a tight hug. I saunter over and see a black cylindrical case strapped to Fallon’s back and before I have the opportunity to ask Keane comments on our outdoor eye-sore, “Nice ride brother, who’s the girl?” Fallon ignores him for the time being.
“Do you have no love for me brother?” Fallon says to me, arms open, “How many years has it been?” He chuckles and looks to Keane for explanation.
“Don’t mind him; Cian is dealing with some serious shit at the moment. What brings you in to town?” Keane is still hoping to keep the peace; I too wanted to know why Fallon is in New Orleans.
“Right. I’ve been in Las Vegas with Collette,” he turns and holds his hand out, motioning toward the oversized windows of my haven, “and I heard through the vampire grapevine the former King was returning to New Orleans. I figure Madliene is in for some of her own serious shit, eh? Oh and before you ask, no; I didn’t register with her. Will I? No, I won’t. Look, two seconds…” Fallon slides his hand into his front jacket pocket and retrieves a high tech cell phone. He slides the screen up, presses a button and puts the device to his ear. “Come up my darling, all is well.” His tone is sickeningly sweet. He then slides the phone down and back into his pocket, “Send that contraption down for Collette.”
“If she’s intelligent enough to push a button, she can make it up here on her own.” I say relinquishing my wariness of Fallon’s arrival and embrace my brother, “Good to see you brother,” I pull away from his now smiling face.
“There, that wasn’t so bad was it?” And he chuckles again, waving his hand around the air of my haven, “Not nearly as bad as this. Cian, how long have you lived here?” Once again I am interrupted, Collette has reached the fifth floor and we were about to meet Fallon’s latest flavor. “Help her with that thing Cian, she’s mortal.”
I slowly walk over to the elevator, flip the latch and tug it open, as I do so in my peripheral I see a mass of long wavy bleach blonde hair, straight bangs covering her extended lashes as I focus on her, we lock eyes and I proceed to quickly look her over.
Collette is a rail thin young woman of no more than twenty-one with hazel eyes so light, they are almost yellow. Her button nose is also obviously augmented and her pillow lips are painted a deep burgundy. Her overly large, fake breasts are holding her long hair hostage off the side of each of them and for the second time tonight someone blows past me to get to Fallon.
As I turn around, he is holding his arms out to catch the slender beauty, dressed in black tight leather pants, driving jacket, and black stiletto heels that clatter across the floor before she jumps to land in his grasp. Her heels click together as they grip around his waist. Keane and I look on as they all but consummate their relationship in front of us. Fallon lowers her to the ground when Collette proceeds to sicken us further, “I missed you.” She says batting her long lashes at Fallon.
“And I you, my love.” He says before taking her chin betwixt his thumb and index finger, pulling her to him and planting a gentle kiss on her surgically perfected nose. “Gents, this is Collette.”
Fallon spins the girl around to present her to us, Keane takes her hand and states his name and then motions to me, “This hard-ass is Cian.” I offer my hand to her and in her reluctance she turns to Fallon who nods in approval.
Collette takes my hand and I gingerly shake it, “Hello.” I say and she responds with a slight smile.
“She’s my pride and joy brothers. Smart, stunning, and I have helped turn her into a skilled fighter. She’s my right hand and my lover all rolled into one. What can I say boys, I am truly happy.” He says and kisses her again on the nose. She remains silent.
Keane begins to ask Fallon another question but I am distracted by the buzzing in my back pocket, I reach back to retrieve it. Estella is calling. I excuse myself from the group but not before looking over at Keane who is eyeing me quizzically, “Estella.”
Before I can answer my phone I hear Fallon ask Keane, “Estella, huh?”
“E?” I say but she is frantic, her speech barely audible, “I’m on my way.”
I close the phone not paying a bit of attention to the audience I have attained as I slide it back into my pocket. “I’m going to Audubon, something is wrong.”
“Someone’s whipped.” Fallon says not aware of his ridiculous assumptions, which I ignore.
I turn to Keane, “You coming?”
“Uh, yeah…” He motions to Fallon and Collette, who I had momentarily forgotten in my frenzy to exit the warehouse, “What about…”
Fallon seems to have gained some grace in the last five minutes, “Let us drive you, I know you’re spent from the flight.”
“Nice!” Keane is like a dog, anticipating the ride.
The interior of Fallon’s Mercedes is of course leather and smells so. It is black with burgundy covering the front bucket seats and backseat. The dashboard is illuminated in red as Collette inserts and turns the key in the ignition, I notice Fallon is watching me take it all in, “She’s a beauty, eh Cian?”
“Aye,” I agree and sink back in the soothing rear seat, running my hands across the smooth leather of the arm rest and door frame. This is luxury, I will give Fallon that, but I jest with him even though inside I am sick to my core, my nerves are on high alert regarding Estella’s unknown predicament.
I don’t show this to Fallon who is seated comfortably beside me. Keane is in front toying with the switches and gadgets; tinting and lightening the windows with the push of a button, Collette drives silently as I ask Fallon, “Mercedes huh, what no Maybach or Bugatti?” I tilt my head smiling at him falsely.
“Well, after the Maybach was stolen and I wrecked the Bugatti, I decided to go with the Mercedes. It’s flashy without being too flashy, but in front of your warehouse a Ford Fiesta looks flashy.” He mirrors my head gesture. We smile at one another and as Collette turns left onto Tchoupitoulas Keane finally pipes up.
“Why drive in the first place Fallon? Have you considered red-eye air travel?” Keane is now the jester.
“I suppose it’s all because of my other love,” Fallon strokes the black cylindrical case now resting between his feet, “This, I’m sure you both are familiar with.” He opens the case and draws out his infamous Morningstar, “They want me to check it. In almost two thousand years she and I have been inseparable, I don’t intend to start now.”
“So where did you find Collette, Fallon?” Keane clearly lacks a brain to mouth filter. I roll my eyes at his bold inquiry but Fallon seems not to care, in fact he seems to thrive off of her and it clicks in me, I am envious of Fallon.
Strange thought as it may be, I finally realize it. I want what he has, not his car or his clothes or any of his blatant extravagance, but his relationship with Collette I am coveting. This makes my heart ache and my stomach turn; we can’t get to Audubon fast enough.
“I picked this little Philly up in a Las Vegas strip club; the music initially drew me in. Nine Inch Nails’ “Reptile” with its heady bass and industrial ticks coaxed me into the seedy dive and once I was inside I saw this heavenly creature gyrating and grinding before me. It was love at first sight.” He explains and then winks to Collette who is watching him through the rear-view mirror.
“She certainly is quiet.” Keane says while looking from Collette to me to Fallon.
“Aye, but smart and cunning.” Fallon is still longingly gazing into the front seat.
I can’t hold my tongue any longer, “Show me what this baby can do.” I say in hopes of reaching Audubon faster.
“Collette?” Fallon says.
“Sir.” She replies and I think, “sir”?
“Oblige Cian please.”
“Yes, sir.” Collette’s mouth stretches into a wide smile and she punches the accelerator, roaring the German engine to life. We are all thrown back into our seats as she flies down Magazine St. In no time we are at Audubon and I direct Collette to the stand alone townhouse segregated from the others.
Collette slows the car and before she can stop I am out and Estella is meeting me half way to the door, “Cian! Thank God!”
“What is it?”
“Babet…she’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?” I am livid that I allowed Fallon to talk me into the ride, I immediately want turn on him but my focus is diverted when I think of Scarlet and Henri, “Where are the children?!”
“Inside.” Estella has clearly taken on more than even she can handle, she is paler than usual and I can feel her exhaustion.
I blow past her and cross the threshold. Scarlet is playing with Henri when I enter and to my surprise she jumps up from the floor and rushes toward me. I am expecting the worst but I am surprised further when she crashes into me, wrapping her tiny arms around me, her delicate head resting on my sternum. For a moment I am still, and in shock; I recover and encase her into me. Henri, the most perceptive little boy known to man watches me with his sister before pointing a finger at me.
“Cian!” He shrieks, lifting his little body off the floor to teeter over and join us. Scarlet breaks from me, bends down and picks him up. He reaches up for my face, I bend to him and he traces his chubby little digits from my forehead to my chin and says, “Mamma.”
I straighten and turn to see through the still open door Estella is outside meeting Fallon and Collette. She looks terrible, as if she just ran a hundred miles. I walk out to collect her, “E, talk to me.” I say pulling her aside.
Before I can get a word out Fallon chimes in and I wish he wouldn’t, “Can we be of assistance?” His arrogant smile playing on his lips.
I refrain from tearing his throat out for the time being and respond, “No, thank you but I think the kids have had enough vampire interaction for a lifetime.”
Fallon simply shrugs this off, “Right. Collette and I are off then, we need to procure a hotel room…” he says nuzzling into her neck, “…sooner than later.” She giggles and they turn to leave.
Estella and I begin to walk back to the still open door; Keane is trailing behind, “I will return. I need to take care of some of my own business; okay?”
My eyes are wide as I turn to face him but he calms me immediately, “Shi, Cian. I need to take care of Shi.” I wave my hand and head toward the door. I see Scarlet has resumed entertaining her baby brother; I nod to her when she meets my eyes and I pull the door ajar. Estella and I still outside.
“Estella, talk to me.” Her hand is plastered to her forehead.
She takes a deep breath and looks deep into my eyes, “After we parted ways I arrived here and I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, her car was here and the lights were on. But the closer I got I saw a cell phone in the driveway, it’s hers.” She pulls the device out of her cleavage and hands it to me. I pocket it and wait for her to continue.
“I, of course came in. The kids were nowhere to be found; I called for them to no reply. I started to read the energy but I was blocked. I tried, Cian. I tried over and over; I cannot penetrate whatever is surrounding the house.” She begins to cry, she is clearly spent from the constant attempt.
This is beginning to make sense; Madliene would of course put an enchantment on the house, but an enchantment that blocks Estella’s gift, why? Any gifts we possess would be beneficial for the situation. I pull myself from the daze.
“After I was dragged to the floor for trying so hard I heard Henri’s voice. That pulled me right out, I ran up the stairs and listened until he did it again, but he didn’t so I manually searched and sniffed them out. They were huddled together in an upstairs closet, Scarlet said it was the ‘plan’ her mother gave her.”
Clever Babet, “Let’s go in.” I say and open the door for Estella who is visibly weary. I close the door behind me and stride into the room where Scarlet and Henri are, Estella sits down with the little boy to take over for Scarlet, “Can I talk to you Scarlet?” She looks up at me and over to Estella who is already engaging Henri.
“Sure,” she says getting up from the floor. She kisses Henri on the top of his blonde head and waits for my direction. I motion for her to accompany me out to the terrace, but I can see Estella wants to hear what the teenage girl has to say. I instead direct her to the couch. She sat but kept her eyes on Henri; I sat beside her and composed myself as to how to approach the sullen teenager.
I take a deep breath, “Scarlet, what was the plan your mother gave you?”
The girl meets my eyes and it’s the first time I have had the opportunity to really take Scarlet in. Her eyes are exactly like her mother’s, vibrant lustrous green but her scent is different. The lavender is there but the undertone isn’t rose hips, its citrus flower. She’s gorgeous, like her mother and her great aunt but now I can see less of the teen in her eyes and more of a young woman. A transformation I was sure was due to the unfortunate chain of events transpiring before her.
Revelations of Cian
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
Keane and I stare at the darkened front windshield as it fades revealing, a petite bleach blonde behind the wheel. She sits absolutely still until I begin to approach the car and her blonde head tilts. She shoots up a single finger directing us upstairs; the windshield fades back to black. I look up to see the lights of my haven have been illuminated; I return my stare to the car as I walk toward the door to the warehouse.
Keane and I take the rickety elevator up to the fifth floor; I reach down to fling the gate up when he remarks on my dwelling, “You live here? Cian?” Sympathetic undertone dances around my name.
I don’t have the chance to defend my haven before we recognize a familiar voice, “Of course he does, self-flagellating bastard that he is.” I look inside and see Fallon dressed to the nines in a black pinstripe suit.
“Fuck me! Fallon!” Keane rushes past me to happily embrace our brother, but I am less than receptive to not only his arrival but his impudence in breaking into my warehouse. I slowly cross the elevator threshold and slide the gate to latch. Fallon uncrosses his legs and rises from his seat on the old couch. He tosses his long bone straight brown locks over his shoulder, grabbing Keane in a tight hug. I saunter over and see a black cylindrical case strapped to Fallon’s back and before I have the opportunity to ask Keane comments on our outdoor eye-sore, “Nice ride brother, who’s the girl?” Fallon ignores him for the time being.
“Do you have no love for me brother?” Fallon says to me, arms open, “How many years has it been?” He chuckles and looks to Keane for explanation.
“Don’t mind him; Cian is dealing with some serious shit at the moment. What brings you in to town?” Keane is still hoping to keep the peace; I too wanted to know why Fallon is in New Orleans.
“Right. I’ve been in Las Vegas with Collette,” he turns and holds his hand out, motioning toward the oversized windows of my haven, “and I heard through the vampire grapevine the former King was returning to New Orleans. I figure Madliene is in for some of her own serious shit, eh? Oh and before you ask, no; I didn’t register with her. Will I? No, I won’t. Look, two seconds…” Fallon slides his hand into his front jacket pocket and retrieves a high tech cell phone. He slides the screen up, presses a button and puts the device to his ear. “Come up my darling, all is well.” His tone is sickeningly sweet. He then slides the phone down and back into his pocket, “Send that contraption down for Collette.”
“If she’s intelligent enough to push a button, she can make it up here on her own.” I say relinquishing my wariness of Fallon’s arrival and embrace my brother, “Good to see you brother,” I pull away from his now smiling face.
“There, that wasn’t so bad was it?” And he chuckles again, waving his hand around the air of my haven, “Not nearly as bad as this. Cian, how long have you lived here?” Once again I am interrupted, Collette has reached the fifth floor and we were about to meet Fallon’s latest flavor. “Help her with that thing Cian, she’s mortal.”
I slowly walk over to the elevator, flip the latch and tug it open, as I do so in my peripheral I see a mass of long wavy bleach blonde hair, straight bangs covering her extended lashes as I focus on her, we lock eyes and I proceed to quickly look her over.
Collette is a rail thin young woman of no more than twenty-one with hazel eyes so light, they are almost yellow. Her button nose is also obviously augmented and her pillow lips are painted a deep burgundy. Her overly large, fake breasts are holding her long hair hostage off the side of each of them and for the second time tonight someone blows past me to get to Fallon.
As I turn around, he is holding his arms out to catch the slender beauty, dressed in black tight leather pants, driving jacket, and black stiletto heels that clatter across the floor before she jumps to land in his grasp. Her heels click together as they grip around his waist. Keane and I look on as they all but consummate their relationship in front of us. Fallon lowers her to the ground when Collette proceeds to sicken us further, “I missed you.” She says batting her long lashes at Fallon.
“And I you, my love.” He says before taking her chin betwixt his thumb and index finger, pulling her to him and planting a gentle kiss on her surgically perfected nose. “Gents, this is Collette.”
Fallon spins the girl around to present her to us, Keane takes her hand and states his name and then motions to me, “This hard-ass is Cian.” I offer my hand to her and in her reluctance she turns to Fallon who nods in approval.
Collette takes my hand and I gingerly shake it, “Hello.” I say and she responds with a slight smile.
“She’s my pride and joy brothers. Smart, stunning, and I have helped turn her into a skilled fighter. She’s my right hand and my lover all rolled into one. What can I say boys, I am truly happy.” He says and kisses her again on the nose. She remains silent.
Keane begins to ask Fallon another question but I am distracted by the buzzing in my back pocket, I reach back to retrieve it. Estella is calling. I excuse myself from the group but not before looking over at Keane who is eyeing me quizzically, “Estella.”
Before I can answer my phone I hear Fallon ask Keane, “Estella, huh?”
“E?” I say but she is frantic, her speech barely audible, “I’m on my way.”
I close the phone not paying a bit of attention to the audience I have attained as I slide it back into my pocket. “I’m going to Audubon, something is wrong.”
“Someone’s whipped.” Fallon says not aware of his ridiculous assumptions, which I ignore.
I turn to Keane, “You coming?”
“Uh, yeah…” He motions to Fallon and Collette, who I had momentarily forgotten in my frenzy to exit the warehouse, “What about…”
Fallon seems to have gained some grace in the last five minutes, “Let us drive you, I know you’re spent from the flight.”
“Nice!” Keane is like a dog, anticipating the ride.
The interior of Fallon’s Mercedes is of course leather and smells so. It is black with burgundy covering the front bucket seats and backseat. The dashboard is illuminated in red as Collette inserts and turns the key in the ignition, I notice Fallon is watching me take it all in, “She’s a beauty, eh Cian?”
“Aye,” I agree and sink back in the soothing rear seat, running my hands across the smooth leather of the arm rest and door frame. This is luxury, I will give Fallon that, but I jest with him even though inside I am sick to my core, my nerves are on high alert regarding Estella’s unknown predicament.
I don’t show this to Fallon who is seated comfortably beside me. Keane is in front toying with the switches and gadgets; tinting and lightening the windows with the push of a button, Collette drives silently as I ask Fallon, “Mercedes huh, what no Maybach or Bugatti?” I tilt my head smiling at him falsely.
“Well, after the Maybach was stolen and I wrecked the Bugatti, I decided to go with the Mercedes. It’s flashy without being too flashy, but in front of your warehouse a Ford Fiesta looks flashy.” He mirrors my head gesture. We smile at one another and as Collette turns left onto Tchoupitoulas Keane finally pipes up.
“Why drive in the first place Fallon? Have you considered red-eye air travel?” Keane is now the jester.
“I suppose it’s all because of my other love,” Fallon strokes the black cylindrical case now resting between his feet, “This, I’m sure you both are familiar with.” He opens the case and draws out his infamous Morningstar, “They want me to check it. In almost two thousand years she and I have been inseparable, I don’t intend to start now.”
“So where did you find Collette, Fallon?” Keane clearly lacks a brain to mouth filter. I roll my eyes at his bold inquiry but Fallon seems not to care, in fact he seems to thrive off of her and it clicks in me, I am envious of Fallon.
Strange thought as it may be, I finally realize it. I want what he has, not his car or his clothes or any of his blatant extravagance, but his relationship with Collette I am coveting. This makes my heart ache and my stomach turn; we can’t get to Audubon fast enough.
“I picked this little Philly up in a Las Vegas strip club; the music initially drew me in. Nine Inch Nails’ “Reptile” with its heady bass and industrial ticks coaxed me into the seedy dive and once I was inside I saw this heavenly creature gyrating and grinding before me. It was love at first sight.” He explains and then winks to Collette who is watching him through the rear-view mirror.
“She certainly is quiet.” Keane says while looking from Collette to me to Fallon.
“Aye, but smart and cunning.” Fallon is still longingly gazing into the front seat.
I can’t hold my tongue any longer, “Show me what this baby can do.” I say in hopes of reaching Audubon faster.
“Collette?” Fallon says.
“Sir.” She replies and I think, “sir”?
“Oblige Cian please.”
“Yes, sir.” Collette’s mouth stretches into a wide smile and she punches the accelerator, roaring the German engine to life. We are all thrown back into our seats as she flies down Magazine St. In no time we are at Audubon and I direct Collette to the stand alone townhouse segregated from the others.
Collette slows the car and before she can stop I am out and Estella is meeting me half way to the door, “Cian! Thank God!”
“What is it?”
“Babet…she’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?” I am livid that I allowed Fallon to talk me into the ride, I immediately want turn on him but my focus is diverted when I think of Scarlet and Henri, “Where are the children?!”
“Inside.” Estella has clearly taken on more than even she can handle, she is paler than usual and I can feel her exhaustion.
I blow past her and cross the threshold. Scarlet is playing with Henri when I enter and to my surprise she jumps up from the floor and rushes toward me. I am expecting the worst but I am surprised further when she crashes into me, wrapping her tiny arms around me, her delicate head resting on my sternum. For a moment I am still, and in shock; I recover and encase her into me. Henri, the most perceptive little boy known to man watches me with his sister before pointing a finger at me.
“Cian!” He shrieks, lifting his little body off the floor to teeter over and join us. Scarlet breaks from me, bends down and picks him up. He reaches up for my face, I bend to him and he traces his chubby little digits from my forehead to my chin and says, “Mamma.”
I straighten and turn to see through the still open door Estella is outside meeting Fallon and Collette. She looks terrible, as if she just ran a hundred miles. I walk out to collect her, “E, talk to me.” I say pulling her aside.
Before I can get a word out Fallon chimes in and I wish he wouldn’t, “Can we be of assistance?” His arrogant smile playing on his lips.
I refrain from tearing his throat out for the time being and respond, “No, thank you but I think the kids have had enough vampire interaction for a lifetime.”
Fallon simply shrugs this off, “Right. Collette and I are off then, we need to procure a hotel room…” he says nuzzling into her neck, “…sooner than later.” She giggles and they turn to leave.
Estella and I begin to walk back to the still open door; Keane is trailing behind, “I will return. I need to take care of some of my own business; okay?”
My eyes are wide as I turn to face him but he calms me immediately, “Shi, Cian. I need to take care of Shi.” I wave my hand and head toward the door. I see Scarlet has resumed entertaining her baby brother; I nod to her when she meets my eyes and I pull the door ajar. Estella and I still outside.
“Estella, talk to me.” Her hand is plastered to her forehead.
She takes a deep breath and looks deep into my eyes, “After we parted ways I arrived here and I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, her car was here and the lights were on. But the closer I got I saw a cell phone in the driveway, it’s hers.” She pulls the device out of her cleavage and hands it to me. I pocket it and wait for her to continue.
“I, of course came in. The kids were nowhere to be found; I called for them to no reply. I started to read the energy but I was blocked. I tried, Cian. I tried over and over; I cannot penetrate whatever is surrounding the house.” She begins to cry, she is clearly spent from the constant attempt.
This is beginning to make sense; Madliene would of course put an enchantment on the house, but an enchantment that blocks Estella’s gift, why? Any gifts we possess would be beneficial for the situation. I pull myself from the daze.
“After I was dragged to the floor for trying so hard I heard Henri’s voice. That pulled me right out, I ran up the stairs and listened until he did it again, but he didn’t so I manually searched and sniffed them out. They were huddled together in an upstairs closet, Scarlet said it was the ‘plan’ her mother gave her.”
Clever Babet, “Let’s go in.” I say and open the door for Estella who is visibly weary. I close the door behind me and stride into the room where Scarlet and Henri are, Estella sits down with the little boy to take over for Scarlet, “Can I talk to you Scarlet?” She looks up at me and over to Estella who is already engaging Henri.
“Sure,” she says getting up from the floor. She kisses Henri on the top of his blonde head and waits for my direction. I motion for her to accompany me out to the terrace, but I can see Estella wants to hear what the teenage girl has to say. I instead direct her to the couch. She sat but kept her eyes on Henri; I sat beside her and composed myself as to how to approach the sullen teenager.
I take a deep breath, “Scarlet, what was the plan your mother gave you?”
The girl meets my eyes and it’s the first time I have had the opportunity to really take Scarlet in. Her eyes are exactly like her mother’s, vibrant lustrous green but her scent is different. The lavender is there but the undertone isn’t rose hips, its citrus flower. She’s gorgeous, like her mother and her great aunt but now I can see less of the teen in her eyes and more of a young woman. A transformation I was sure was due to the unfortunate chain of events transpiring before her.
Revelations of Cian
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
April 20, 2014
Oh Penelope...
“Don’t feel that way, please, and it is not as if I plant my own thoughts in your head, it doesn’t work that way Cian.
Believe me, it’s a curse I am forced to bear….” She began to trail off, when Estella chimed in.
“What do you mean, “your curse to bear”?” her tone accusing.
“When I did what I did, to you four, all that time ago….I broke the rules, so to speak.” Her tone became ominous as she seemed to drift to another place recollecting her spiritual punishment. She began to explain while in a deep trance the spirit high council convened, and upon her arrival she was forced to pay for her indiscretion. We all began to gain concerned composure as we watched her trance.
“I only want the one, please!” she shrilled, her eyes growing milky white, barely a trace of humanity behind them. She began to rise, her feet suspended above the floor, her arms stretched out as if she were being held on either side against her will, she began to flail before halting in the outstretched position, her head dropped and when she raised it again her face had become grotesquely rotted, her nose and eyes mere cavities on her face.
Her mouth lay open like a ring of spikes and demonically said, “Your punishment, Myra Elnora, is unbreakable communication with these beings. You are sentenced to eternal bondage, forever connected to your mistakes.” With the last word her head flew forward again and her body placed back to the floor beneath her.
Once the tension around us subsided from her punishing revelation her eyes began to clear and again the ice blue regained its place. She steadied her focus once more and began to explain, “You see, and that is the only time that has ever happened….” She trailed off once again, “Except….” And she retreated quickly from her table to the back of her tiny hovel, returning with a large book covered in dust. It was at least two inches thick and had a tarnished silver clasp holding the bindings. She unhooks the clasp and places the book on the table before us; we all crowd around the ancient tome.
“Here,” she says pointing to a date in the mid 1940’s halfway down the right side of the book, “I recorded this date because it’s the precise day and time I lost connection with Finn, who at the time had been in the middle of the Second World War. Prior to the cold jolt come over me, I heard muffled explosions. They grew louder as if the sound were chasing me and then nothing; I could no longer detect anything connected to him. I fear he may be dead.”
She stopped and looked into each of us, before stating what I was thinking, “There is no way he could have figured out how to break the connection, and if he had I would have known it long before, with him the connection was audible, I heard anything he said out loud.” Confused concern blanketed her deceivingly youthful face.
“So, I am confused, how are you connected to Keane and why didn’t you find him before this revelation?” Estella’s youth, once again showing her up.
“It was against everything I was supposed to stand for and I certainly couldn’t risk more retribution from the spiritual high council, I was in enough of a predicament with them as it was. But I knew he would come back to me, however long it took.” She explained beaming at Keane.
“So what was your “type” of connection with him?” Estella’s disrespect is mounting.
I hold a hand up to silence Estella turning to Myra, “What was he still doing in Germany? Finn?”
“In the beginning he chose battle in the field and the explosions at times was too much for even me to bear. The sounds of war are terribly unsettling, the screams, cries and rhythm of pure death, you know his thirst for war? He was residing in one of the many bunkers constructed along the French and German border and I suspect that is where he was prior to the jolt. Prior to that, though, he spent a vast amount of time freeing captives in the Dachau concentration camp, which he almost lost his life doing during a premeditated explosion. Those days he spoke intimately to himself, in turn to me. The casualties he encountered, speaking to himself of the horrible atrocities there. Asking himself why, how anyone could do this to their fellow man.”
Myra ignored Estella’s tone, continued her explanation, “As far as Keane, it was sexual.” She mutters it, as if embarrassed to speak the words. Keane’s mouth simply dropped before regaining his composure to voice his theory.
“So, every time I had sex with someone, you were aware?” he said leaning forward to only speak quietly to her. His head dropped forward in defeat as she confirmed his suspicions.
“Nice try Keane, fellow vampires, we can hear really well.” Estella boasted but Keane pays her no mind.
He lifted his head to meet Myra’s gaze and welling up in his eyes were light pink tears, “I’m sorry,” His voice cracking with each syllable.
“How could you know?” she said to him reassuringly, placing her hand atop his.
“Wait, so why sexual with Keane and intimate in a non-sexual way with the other two, wait, I thought you said there were four of you?” Estella still trying to wrap her head around the situation, this time her question lacked any sarcasm, she was genuinely interested.
“Yes, there were four of us,” I say to Estella before turning my attentions to Myra, “What connection do you have to Fallon?”
“Well the answer to your first question, I think Keane can explain to you at another time and the answer to your second is; Fallon is visual, I see what he sees. At the moment he is on his way into town…oh, in a very nice car and accompanied by a young blonde. She’s human, by the way.” She states matter-of-factly.
“Here? Fallon is on his way, here?” I am stunned, this all coming to a head.
“I know Cian, I am sorry, it’s a lot to take in, but know that I have always watched over you, shared your experiences, your lives….” I cut her off.
“Yes, but at what cost to you. We should have never….” She cuts me off.
“It was my choice and if I had to do it all over again, I would.” She speaks only to Keane now. He smiles at her in response. “Will you stay?”
“Of course, you can’t get rid of me now….you’re mine.” He said to her, his tone deviously seductive.
Myra smiles at Keane as if it’s the only the two of them in the room before Estella breaks the deafening silence between them; among us.
“I really hate to break this up,” she said and a loud scoff came from Myra’s direction, “but we came here with a problem, now we have more. We also need to find out when your friend Fallon will be in, the Queen will want to know of his arrival.” Estella is name-dropping for Myra’s sake.
“FUCK YOUR RIDICULOUSLY POMPOUS QUEEN! Utter her name in my dwelling again and relinquish your existence! You of all beings, Estella; know better.” Penelope chastises Estella who realizes her mistake.
“Apologies, I meant nothing by it, honestly….it’s just that….well we already have plenty of problems. Cian, please explain to her of our captive at the club.”
“Estella, were you not listening?” I say gingerly.
“He’s right and Cian, I am not familiar with it other than the ones from long ago. I understood they were wiped from existence, but clearly there has been a resurrection.” Myra is dangerously serious, “Watch it closely; it speaks which is not common with the creatures of legend. Use it to your advantage, it certainly is one. Let’s just hope the one that is out there is the only one.”
There is a silence among us until Estella brings up Fallon’s arrival, “And this friend of yours, Fallon?”
“He is just now pulling up to Cian’s front door.” Myra said to Estella before turning to meet my gaze. “Be careful of that “Queen” of yours, some of your suspicions are correct, protect yourself. You remember what I told you about her?”
I give her a nod and we all get to our feet, Estella and I head for the door as Keane takes a moment to bid farewell to Myra Elnora, “Until tonight, my sweet.” He kisses the insides of her hands prior to our departure.
“I’ll be waiting. Goodbye Estella, pleasure as always.” She gave us a friendly wave before morphing back into the ruse of Penelope.
Back aboard the small boat, Estella probed Keane, “So, spill. Why such an intimate connection to her compared to the others?”
His mood seemed solemn for Keane, the lighthearted one, “Because even after she requested our leave, I returned. You remember, Cian, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”
“I remember the twins couldn’t either.” I say to him.
“Yes, I made sure they understood she was to be mine. And she was; we spent that following night together, your sister had already been safely placed with a family close to Myra, and Cian, I am sorry for never revealing that to you. I know you worried for your sister for years, and for that I am sorry brother. I suppose as far as Myra is concerned I made my bed there.”
I waved my hand to him, disregarding the revelation, “I knew my sister would be safe with the priestess, I made her swear a blood oath to protect Maggie.” And as I the word forms on my lips, Protect, I am reminded of Babet and the lateness of the hour.
“Estella, have you any message from Babet?” I ask worriedly.
“Yeah, we’ve been texting, well prior to all the revelations and what not.” Her tone is snide and unapologetic. “I should probably check in on her.”
“When was the last one you received from her?”
We are almost to the bank when Estella checks her cell, “Last one she responded to was twenty minutes ago.” She looks up at me, I can see and feel her fear rising.
“Get to Audubon.” She turns to run but I grab her arm, “Estella, be careful.”
She nods and is gone beyond the darkness of the swamp. Keane stands idle for my next move but he is impatient, “Why do you think Myra cannot involve herself in your human debacle?”
“I don’t know, but by the time we get back there she’ll have an explanation for us.” I say tapping my index finger on my temple.
“Fine with me,” Keane is obviously eager to return to Myra and he should be, given their time apart, “…but ditch the boat, yeah?”
“Aye, Estella hasn’t mastered flight yet.”
“Shame.” He smirks at me and I back at him before we hoist ourselves into the air and back through the dark swampy abyss.
Our feet hit Penelope’s pier simultaneously. The only light available is the amber illumination of the decrepit lantern hanging on the yard hook and in the distance the door to the hut swings open. Keane looks over at me, baring a bright white sharp smile, “She knows.” He laughs at his own dark humor.
We ascend the stairs and she has already morphed back to Myra knowing Keane is still with me. We enter and close the door; I stand silently, knowing she knows what I want to ask her.
“You can still be a gentleman and ask.” She says smiling.
“Of course. Why do you hesitate to assist us with Babet?” My hands clasped in front of me like a good little boy.
“You know how I feel about your “Queen”.” Her fingers make air quotes around Queen. I nod.
“Well I don’t, I know how the Icelandic clan feels about her, and I know how I feel about her….” Keane, boy I have missed Keane.
“As have I, Cian. As have I.” Myra smiles fondly at him.
“Okay, enough of the fucking mind-meld.” His frustration is increasing as he looks from Myra to me.
“I’m sorry, Keane. Cian was thinking how much he has missed you over the years and I was mirroring the sentiment. I realize this is going to take a lot of getting used to, I apologize.” She says and of course all is forgiven in Keane’s eyes.
“I know of her methods toward the immortal and supernatural community, making them register with her when they arrive into New Orleans, it’s disgusting how she flaunts her power and there is the key. She is more than powerful she is authoritative, but she’s not just a vampire. As human she was born into an ancient family of witches, a sect of her family was attacked off a country road in France, where her maker found her teetering on the edge of mortality. I can’t speculate on why her maker chose to save her but when he did he created another kind of monster. Her family blood, the witch blood, remained in her during her transformation giving her an extra benefit. Hence her control over you all in her presence, that ability is not for your kind, it’s for mine. Not realizing this he trained her in vampire arts, combat and etiquette.
“Etiquette?” Keane asks sarcastically.
“Yes, she came from less than savory origins, if she were to survive as a vampire she would have to succumb to elocution, and she did. She did everything he said, performed every task put before her and once he deemed her training complete she turned the tables on him, revealing the craft she had been born into which now resonated more powerful than ever. She nearly killed him.” Myra is intensely searching Keane and my eyes. I feel her seeking mine specifically because I am obviously more aware of Madliene’s abilities, “Exactly Cian, you know how dangerous she truly is.”
She had yet to answer my question about Babet, “The townhouse you have her residing in is wrapped so tight with enchantments, it would be of no use Cian. I’m sorry.” I am disappointed but not surprised.
“Linde said he watched her decapitate his brother in passing after their affair turned sour, he said she laid not a finger on him.” Keane reveals to Myra as I look on.
Myra begins to laugh and it’s a joyous sound, “No one talks like you two anymore; I miss the old country.” Myra’s reminiscence of our Scottish homeland silenced us all. I thought of the day we met her and she glanced up to smile at me, but returned her gaze to Keane who couldn’t take his eyes off her. She is first to break our shared inner turmoil, “Speaking of all things Scottish, Fallon is waiting and if I have to see his flashy wrist watch once more I am going to….hmm, never mind.” She smiles and we blow her door open with our exit, I look back as it slowly closes.
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
Believe me, it’s a curse I am forced to bear….” She began to trail off, when Estella chimed in.
“What do you mean, “your curse to bear”?” her tone accusing.
“When I did what I did, to you four, all that time ago….I broke the rules, so to speak.” Her tone became ominous as she seemed to drift to another place recollecting her spiritual punishment. She began to explain while in a deep trance the spirit high council convened, and upon her arrival she was forced to pay for her indiscretion. We all began to gain concerned composure as we watched her trance.
“I only want the one, please!” she shrilled, her eyes growing milky white, barely a trace of humanity behind them. She began to rise, her feet suspended above the floor, her arms stretched out as if she were being held on either side against her will, she began to flail before halting in the outstretched position, her head dropped and when she raised it again her face had become grotesquely rotted, her nose and eyes mere cavities on her face.
Her mouth lay open like a ring of spikes and demonically said, “Your punishment, Myra Elnora, is unbreakable communication with these beings. You are sentenced to eternal bondage, forever connected to your mistakes.” With the last word her head flew forward again and her body placed back to the floor beneath her.
Once the tension around us subsided from her punishing revelation her eyes began to clear and again the ice blue regained its place. She steadied her focus once more and began to explain, “You see, and that is the only time that has ever happened….” She trailed off once again, “Except….” And she retreated quickly from her table to the back of her tiny hovel, returning with a large book covered in dust. It was at least two inches thick and had a tarnished silver clasp holding the bindings. She unhooks the clasp and places the book on the table before us; we all crowd around the ancient tome.
“Here,” she says pointing to a date in the mid 1940’s halfway down the right side of the book, “I recorded this date because it’s the precise day and time I lost connection with Finn, who at the time had been in the middle of the Second World War. Prior to the cold jolt come over me, I heard muffled explosions. They grew louder as if the sound were chasing me and then nothing; I could no longer detect anything connected to him. I fear he may be dead.”
She stopped and looked into each of us, before stating what I was thinking, “There is no way he could have figured out how to break the connection, and if he had I would have known it long before, with him the connection was audible, I heard anything he said out loud.” Confused concern blanketed her deceivingly youthful face.
“So, I am confused, how are you connected to Keane and why didn’t you find him before this revelation?” Estella’s youth, once again showing her up.
“It was against everything I was supposed to stand for and I certainly couldn’t risk more retribution from the spiritual high council, I was in enough of a predicament with them as it was. But I knew he would come back to me, however long it took.” She explained beaming at Keane.
“So what was your “type” of connection with him?” Estella’s disrespect is mounting.
I hold a hand up to silence Estella turning to Myra, “What was he still doing in Germany? Finn?”
“In the beginning he chose battle in the field and the explosions at times was too much for even me to bear. The sounds of war are terribly unsettling, the screams, cries and rhythm of pure death, you know his thirst for war? He was residing in one of the many bunkers constructed along the French and German border and I suspect that is where he was prior to the jolt. Prior to that, though, he spent a vast amount of time freeing captives in the Dachau concentration camp, which he almost lost his life doing during a premeditated explosion. Those days he spoke intimately to himself, in turn to me. The casualties he encountered, speaking to himself of the horrible atrocities there. Asking himself why, how anyone could do this to their fellow man.”
Myra ignored Estella’s tone, continued her explanation, “As far as Keane, it was sexual.” She mutters it, as if embarrassed to speak the words. Keane’s mouth simply dropped before regaining his composure to voice his theory.
“So, every time I had sex with someone, you were aware?” he said leaning forward to only speak quietly to her. His head dropped forward in defeat as she confirmed his suspicions.
“Nice try Keane, fellow vampires, we can hear really well.” Estella boasted but Keane pays her no mind.
He lifted his head to meet Myra’s gaze and welling up in his eyes were light pink tears, “I’m sorry,” His voice cracking with each syllable.
“How could you know?” she said to him reassuringly, placing her hand atop his.
“Wait, so why sexual with Keane and intimate in a non-sexual way with the other two, wait, I thought you said there were four of you?” Estella still trying to wrap her head around the situation, this time her question lacked any sarcasm, she was genuinely interested.
“Yes, there were four of us,” I say to Estella before turning my attentions to Myra, “What connection do you have to Fallon?”
“Well the answer to your first question, I think Keane can explain to you at another time and the answer to your second is; Fallon is visual, I see what he sees. At the moment he is on his way into town…oh, in a very nice car and accompanied by a young blonde. She’s human, by the way.” She states matter-of-factly.
“Here? Fallon is on his way, here?” I am stunned, this all coming to a head.
“I know Cian, I am sorry, it’s a lot to take in, but know that I have always watched over you, shared your experiences, your lives….” I cut her off.
“Yes, but at what cost to you. We should have never….” She cuts me off.
“It was my choice and if I had to do it all over again, I would.” She speaks only to Keane now. He smiles at her in response. “Will you stay?”
“Of course, you can’t get rid of me now….you’re mine.” He said to her, his tone deviously seductive.
Myra smiles at Keane as if it’s the only the two of them in the room before Estella breaks the deafening silence between them; among us.
“I really hate to break this up,” she said and a loud scoff came from Myra’s direction, “but we came here with a problem, now we have more. We also need to find out when your friend Fallon will be in, the Queen will want to know of his arrival.” Estella is name-dropping for Myra’s sake.
“FUCK YOUR RIDICULOUSLY POMPOUS QUEEN! Utter her name in my dwelling again and relinquish your existence! You of all beings, Estella; know better.” Penelope chastises Estella who realizes her mistake.
“Apologies, I meant nothing by it, honestly….it’s just that….well we already have plenty of problems. Cian, please explain to her of our captive at the club.”
“Estella, were you not listening?” I say gingerly.
“He’s right and Cian, I am not familiar with it other than the ones from long ago. I understood they were wiped from existence, but clearly there has been a resurrection.” Myra is dangerously serious, “Watch it closely; it speaks which is not common with the creatures of legend. Use it to your advantage, it certainly is one. Let’s just hope the one that is out there is the only one.”
There is a silence among us until Estella brings up Fallon’s arrival, “And this friend of yours, Fallon?”
“He is just now pulling up to Cian’s front door.” Myra said to Estella before turning to meet my gaze. “Be careful of that “Queen” of yours, some of your suspicions are correct, protect yourself. You remember what I told you about her?”
I give her a nod and we all get to our feet, Estella and I head for the door as Keane takes a moment to bid farewell to Myra Elnora, “Until tonight, my sweet.” He kisses the insides of her hands prior to our departure.
“I’ll be waiting. Goodbye Estella, pleasure as always.” She gave us a friendly wave before morphing back into the ruse of Penelope.
Back aboard the small boat, Estella probed Keane, “So, spill. Why such an intimate connection to her compared to the others?”
His mood seemed solemn for Keane, the lighthearted one, “Because even after she requested our leave, I returned. You remember, Cian, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”
“I remember the twins couldn’t either.” I say to him.
“Yes, I made sure they understood she was to be mine. And she was; we spent that following night together, your sister had already been safely placed with a family close to Myra, and Cian, I am sorry for never revealing that to you. I know you worried for your sister for years, and for that I am sorry brother. I suppose as far as Myra is concerned I made my bed there.”
I waved my hand to him, disregarding the revelation, “I knew my sister would be safe with the priestess, I made her swear a blood oath to protect Maggie.” And as I the word forms on my lips, Protect, I am reminded of Babet and the lateness of the hour.
“Estella, have you any message from Babet?” I ask worriedly.
“Yeah, we’ve been texting, well prior to all the revelations and what not.” Her tone is snide and unapologetic. “I should probably check in on her.”
“When was the last one you received from her?”
We are almost to the bank when Estella checks her cell, “Last one she responded to was twenty minutes ago.” She looks up at me, I can see and feel her fear rising.
“Get to Audubon.” She turns to run but I grab her arm, “Estella, be careful.”
She nods and is gone beyond the darkness of the swamp. Keane stands idle for my next move but he is impatient, “Why do you think Myra cannot involve herself in your human debacle?”
“I don’t know, but by the time we get back there she’ll have an explanation for us.” I say tapping my index finger on my temple.
“Fine with me,” Keane is obviously eager to return to Myra and he should be, given their time apart, “…but ditch the boat, yeah?”
“Aye, Estella hasn’t mastered flight yet.”
“Shame.” He smirks at me and I back at him before we hoist ourselves into the air and back through the dark swampy abyss.
Our feet hit Penelope’s pier simultaneously. The only light available is the amber illumination of the decrepit lantern hanging on the yard hook and in the distance the door to the hut swings open. Keane looks over at me, baring a bright white sharp smile, “She knows.” He laughs at his own dark humor.
We ascend the stairs and she has already morphed back to Myra knowing Keane is still with me. We enter and close the door; I stand silently, knowing she knows what I want to ask her.
“You can still be a gentleman and ask.” She says smiling.
“Of course. Why do you hesitate to assist us with Babet?” My hands clasped in front of me like a good little boy.
“You know how I feel about your “Queen”.” Her fingers make air quotes around Queen. I nod.
“Well I don’t, I know how the Icelandic clan feels about her, and I know how I feel about her….” Keane, boy I have missed Keane.
“As have I, Cian. As have I.” Myra smiles fondly at him.
“Okay, enough of the fucking mind-meld.” His frustration is increasing as he looks from Myra to me.
“I’m sorry, Keane. Cian was thinking how much he has missed you over the years and I was mirroring the sentiment. I realize this is going to take a lot of getting used to, I apologize.” She says and of course all is forgiven in Keane’s eyes.
“I know of her methods toward the immortal and supernatural community, making them register with her when they arrive into New Orleans, it’s disgusting how she flaunts her power and there is the key. She is more than powerful she is authoritative, but she’s not just a vampire. As human she was born into an ancient family of witches, a sect of her family was attacked off a country road in France, where her maker found her teetering on the edge of mortality. I can’t speculate on why her maker chose to save her but when he did he created another kind of monster. Her family blood, the witch blood, remained in her during her transformation giving her an extra benefit. Hence her control over you all in her presence, that ability is not for your kind, it’s for mine. Not realizing this he trained her in vampire arts, combat and etiquette.
“Etiquette?” Keane asks sarcastically.
“Yes, she came from less than savory origins, if she were to survive as a vampire she would have to succumb to elocution, and she did. She did everything he said, performed every task put before her and once he deemed her training complete she turned the tables on him, revealing the craft she had been born into which now resonated more powerful than ever. She nearly killed him.” Myra is intensely searching Keane and my eyes. I feel her seeking mine specifically because I am obviously more aware of Madliene’s abilities, “Exactly Cian, you know how dangerous she truly is.”
She had yet to answer my question about Babet, “The townhouse you have her residing in is wrapped so tight with enchantments, it would be of no use Cian. I’m sorry.” I am disappointed but not surprised.
“Linde said he watched her decapitate his brother in passing after their affair turned sour, he said she laid not a finger on him.” Keane reveals to Myra as I look on.
Myra begins to laugh and it’s a joyous sound, “No one talks like you two anymore; I miss the old country.” Myra’s reminiscence of our Scottish homeland silenced us all. I thought of the day we met her and she glanced up to smile at me, but returned her gaze to Keane who couldn’t take his eyes off her. She is first to break our shared inner turmoil, “Speaking of all things Scottish, Fallon is waiting and if I have to see his flashy wrist watch once more I am going to….hmm, never mind.” She smiles and we blow her door open with our exit, I look back as it slowly closes.
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
April 13, 2014
INTERVIEWING AUTHORS!!!
Annie Edmonds; Author of Erotica series "Second Chance"
Annie Edmonds
Q: What are you working on?
A: I am currently working on my second erotic romance. Master Mike's story. Not really sure if that's what the title is yet, but since the series is Second Chance and my first book was Second Chances Sammy's story, I just might go with Master Mike's story.
I also write a couple blogs. The first is Sex w/Annie Let's Talk about Sex on WordPress.
This is where I try to help couples who have let their sex lives dwindle find a way to put the spice back into their relationships. I've been married for 28 yrs and I live with chronic pain. I figure if I can figure out a way to have a happy healthy sex life I should be able to help others.
The other is a authors group blog. Mine of course is the romance, and erotica section.
Yes I am one busy woman. Between the writing and social networking there doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day. But I love every minute of it. Being able to reach all kinds of people and hear about their lives makes it all worth it.
Q: How does your work differ from other's in your genre;
A: Take for instance Sammy's story; I could have chopped it in half or into thirds and gotten two or three books out of that one story.
I wanted my readers to be able to pick up one of my books read a few chapters before bed and the next day think about getting home and reading some more. I don't want them to be done with it in an hour and start looking for their next book. I am hoping by the time the reader get to the end of my book they can feel the emotions I felt while writing it. I think this is what all writers want. I just try and do it with one book instead of two.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: I write what I know. You see Augusta I got my second chance at love and life when I met my husband Mike at a New Year's Eve party. I was young widow. I had no idea what true love was until I found Mike or when he found me. I felt it almost instantly. That magic they talk about, and those butterfly's I still feel them after all these years.
My books are about getting that second chance at love and life. I am here to say that it can happen to you out there. That there is such a thing as love at first sight. I didn't have it but my husband did and he has told me many times that he was not going to stop looking until he found me again. He knew my story. And he was willing to take a chance on me. .
Those are the feelings I write with. I have the fairy tale where love is concerned. And I want others to feel it too. I want to give my readers hope.
Or give the reader who may not have had sex in awhile that warm tingle feeling you get when you're reading a good erotic romance.
I have a few women that have written to tell me that it was my book that put the spark back into their love lives. Now that right there is a great reason to keep writing. I am in love with my husband and I want to share some of my experience's. So I make sure there's a part of our love woven in with the stories I write.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: I write at my dining room table which is actually in my living room. .
Everyone's lives keep moving while I'm typing away in my heavily padded chair
If there was a camera set up you would see that during the day everyone is coming and going while I'm in one place. Sometimes hours go by without me realizing.
I have my essentials; my notebooks, my pads and pens, my post its, computer and my stainless steel coffee mug. I start by writing out a short draft of what my main character is going to look like and where I want him/her to go.
Then I give them a love interest. From there I find a way to get these two characters together. I have no idea where it all comes from but I think I could write a love story about two scarecrows if I thought about it long enough.
For me research is so important. When I'm writing I make sure to do my homework especially where BDSM is concerned. I want to make sure I am as accurate as I can be in the kink department.
I sometimes give my hubby a treat and ask him to help with the research. You should see the smile he gets on his face. "Yes baby I want you to look up a real dungeon and a woman on a St. Andrews cross. Let me know when you find it". You would have thought I gave him a penthouse pet for a day. Men are so easy to please.
I don't want someone to read one of my books and decide to go into an erotic club and not know that the universal safe-word in the world of BDSM is Red. There are websites listed in the back of my books too. With one click readers can do their own research. My advice is to Just be careful if you decide to put some kink into your relationship. And if you don't trust your partner completely then don't try it. Also know that it's the submissive that has all the control.
Second Chances Sammy's Story #1
***Find Annie's books...
http://www.amazon.com/Second-Chances-...
Annie Edmonds
Q: What are you working on?
A: I am currently working on my second erotic romance. Master Mike's story. Not really sure if that's what the title is yet, but since the series is Second Chance and my first book was Second Chances Sammy's story, I just might go with Master Mike's story.
I also write a couple blogs. The first is Sex w/Annie Let's Talk about Sex on WordPress.
This is where I try to help couples who have let their sex lives dwindle find a way to put the spice back into their relationships. I've been married for 28 yrs and I live with chronic pain. I figure if I can figure out a way to have a happy healthy sex life I should be able to help others.
The other is a authors group blog. Mine of course is the romance, and erotica section.
Yes I am one busy woman. Between the writing and social networking there doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day. But I love every minute of it. Being able to reach all kinds of people and hear about their lives makes it all worth it.
Q: How does your work differ from other's in your genre;
A: Take for instance Sammy's story; I could have chopped it in half or into thirds and gotten two or three books out of that one story.
I wanted my readers to be able to pick up one of my books read a few chapters before bed and the next day think about getting home and reading some more. I don't want them to be done with it in an hour and start looking for their next book. I am hoping by the time the reader get to the end of my book they can feel the emotions I felt while writing it. I think this is what all writers want. I just try and do it with one book instead of two.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: I write what I know. You see Augusta I got my second chance at love and life when I met my husband Mike at a New Year's Eve party. I was young widow. I had no idea what true love was until I found Mike or when he found me. I felt it almost instantly. That magic they talk about, and those butterfly's I still feel them after all these years.
My books are about getting that second chance at love and life. I am here to say that it can happen to you out there. That there is such a thing as love at first sight. I didn't have it but my husband did and he has told me many times that he was not going to stop looking until he found me again. He knew my story. And he was willing to take a chance on me. .
Those are the feelings I write with. I have the fairy tale where love is concerned. And I want others to feel it too. I want to give my readers hope.
Or give the reader who may not have had sex in awhile that warm tingle feeling you get when you're reading a good erotic romance.
I have a few women that have written to tell me that it was my book that put the spark back into their love lives. Now that right there is a great reason to keep writing. I am in love with my husband and I want to share some of my experience's. So I make sure there's a part of our love woven in with the stories I write.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: I write at my dining room table which is actually in my living room. .
Everyone's lives keep moving while I'm typing away in my heavily padded chair
If there was a camera set up you would see that during the day everyone is coming and going while I'm in one place. Sometimes hours go by without me realizing.
I have my essentials; my notebooks, my pads and pens, my post its, computer and my stainless steel coffee mug. I start by writing out a short draft of what my main character is going to look like and where I want him/her to go.
Then I give them a love interest. From there I find a way to get these two characters together. I have no idea where it all comes from but I think I could write a love story about two scarecrows if I thought about it long enough.
For me research is so important. When I'm writing I make sure to do my homework especially where BDSM is concerned. I want to make sure I am as accurate as I can be in the kink department.
I sometimes give my hubby a treat and ask him to help with the research. You should see the smile he gets on his face. "Yes baby I want you to look up a real dungeon and a woman on a St. Andrews cross. Let me know when you find it". You would have thought I gave him a penthouse pet for a day. Men are so easy to please.
I don't want someone to read one of my books and decide to go into an erotic club and not know that the universal safe-word in the world of BDSM is Red. There are websites listed in the back of my books too. With one click readers can do their own research. My advice is to Just be careful if you decide to put some kink into your relationship. And if you don't trust your partner completely then don't try it. Also know that it's the submissive that has all the control.
Second Chances Sammy's Story #1
***Find Annie's books...
http://www.amazon.com/Second-Chances-...
The INFAMOUS Penelope...
We reached the dark dankness that is Penelope’s dwellings, deep in the Southern Louisiana bayou. Keane clearly intrigued by his new surrounding, “All the time I spent on this Earth and I have never experienced anyplace so suspenseful, I feel like a thousand eyes are on me.”
He turned to gain our reaction, he was quickly silenced by Estella’s words, “There are, be aware, we are never alone here.” She passed by him, exiting the tiny vessel gaining access to Penelope’s pier. We walk up the twisted staircase, constructed from worn boards, branches and vine, the hand rail resembling bones tied together with tendons and muscle.
The air was thick with humidity and Keane complained that the atmosphere was so oppressive it felt as if he was being pulled from the boney staircase; but something caught his senses and he began to take quick breaths as if tracking a scent. I turned the rusted door knob; Estella and I entering Penelope’s home without invitation, Keane was forced to reside on the other side of the threshold until she noticed our presence.
“Cian. Estella.” She said keeping her gaze on the tiny animal bones in front of her, “Please come in Keane, it’s been a very long time.” My head whipped back to glance at him step into Penelope’s door a smile crossing his lips. I looked back at her and then to Estella, who shrugged as if she didn’t care. Keane closed the door behind him and stood in front of her table of bones, waiting to meet her eyes. She finally lifted her head and they stared into each other for what seemed like forever.
“I knew I would find you again someday.” Keane said, continuing to gaze at her longingly, enraptured by her.
“And so you have”, Penelope’s eyes softened from her hazel brown to ice blue and her hair began to loosen and grow, turning from blue black to sandy blonde. She stood up from behind her table and her body began to slim and her clothes changed from the long sundress she wore as we entered to tattered rags. She stepped out from behind the table and the flip flops she was wearing began to disappear, to reveal bare white feet. Standing before us was no longer Penelope but the priestess who assisted us and turned us from human to vampire in Scotland centuries ago.
“What the fuck just happened?!?!”
Estella jumped from her dresser perch, landing with a thud. The boots she traded the heels for met the floor with persistence; she attempted to move from her landing and was rebuffed by the priestess’ simple yet powerful stare, resulting in Estella’s stasis.
“Under my roof, young one…..you will have respect for me and mine, quiet yourself or leave.”
Keane stood with his hands in his pants pockets during the priestess’ transformation and once it was complete, he thrust forward, wrapped his arms around the young woman, pulling her away to gaze at her face, he placed his hands around it, pulling it toward his and kissed her passionately. He pulled her away from him once more and said, “Your scent, I could detect it as soon as we got here, I just couldn’t believe it, I knew it had to be false. You’re really here.”
They embrace again and I look to Estella out of respect for the reunited, “lovers”. The priestess released Keane from her grasp, turned to me, still in her original form as the Scottish woman and asked both me and Keane to have a seat and hope to somewhat explain how she came to be here. We sat on two antique soda crates; Keane refused to divert his gaze elsewhere nearly missing the small wooden box as he sat.
I realized that her compassion for us that night meant more to him than the rest of us. Estella, once released from her time as a statue, re-perched herself on the old dresser, more wary of her actions as she re-immerses in her cell phone, but not before shooting invisible daggers at the priestess.
“Cian, I want to start by apologizing for not revealing myself to you years ago. For me it’s been a lifetime of failed trust and how was I to be sure you could be trusted, even after our long relationship.” I didn’t respond out of respect and she continued.
“Do you forgive me?” She said as she looked to me sympathetically. I simply nodded at her and I was glad she was familiar with my ways. She explained that she has existed for millennia, transferring her spirit into those who possess the ability to communicate with other realms. When we happened upon her in Dalry, she had been in her true form, it only became dangerous for her once the Christians had made their mark, deeming anyone connected to the spirit world to be feared and destroyed. She was called a witch, driven into the Cleeves Cove Cave system not far from her home and finally in 1576 she was burned at the stake as a woman named Bessie Dunlop.
She told us, as Bessie, she had received information through the dimensions in reference to lost items belonging to a Thomas Reid, former barony officer in Dalry. Being a compassionate person she reported the sighting, but the gesture was most unsettling for the authority since Mr. Reid died in the Battle of Pinkie 30 years prior.
Claiming to the law, she first encountered him while on a walk near Monkcastle. She admitted to having a familiar who taught her her trade of craft. Creating ointments and medicines out of herbs to heal the wounds or sicknesses of livestock and people; many knew of her and went to her for advice or a cure for a sick child, treating everyone equally, poor and rich alike.
Unfortunately she was eventually seen as a witch, a threat to be feared. There is some debate as to where she was burned at the stake; she can’t remember where her exact location of death is, but she theorized that it may have been Castle Hill in Edinburgh. But felt that a death at Corsehillmuir outside of Kilwinning would have been less embarrassing. I was extremely interested in this account and being as “Penelope” and I always spoke to one another in broken sentences, the vast and drawn out conversation was a welcome yet foreign one.
Keane and I sat listening as she recounted the many times she spirit jumped and I began to wonder what became of the consciousness of the human once “Penelope” or the priestess inhabited it. I let the thought escape as she spoke about arriving in Haiti, finding and inhabiting a little girl named Penelope D’Anjou. She explained that she resided in the girl for only a few years before being cast out of Penelope’s body by the elders of the girl’s village.
She recalled haunting various places around Haiti but no other vessel proved itself to be as worthy as the little Penelope. By the time the priestess’ spirit decided come hell or high water she would inhabit that little girl again; conjuring a stasis spell to remain inside until death, the proper way for the priestess to exit a vessel; the girl had grown into a woman and was pregnant with a baby girl herself. Inhabiting a vessel that is already occupied is highly forbidden and could cause the deaths of all three beings. She followed Penelope from Haiti to Louisiana and immediately after the child was born, the priestess found her way back inside the young woman.
“And I’ve been with her ever since, she’s a delightful person and a great asset to me and the community. She is much older now, but I don’t let that show when we take clients. She would prefer to look as she should at her age, but I told her that is not advisable, she would look, well... dead, if I did so.
I say to her, “”Penelope, you will die one of these days and I will be expelled from you, but until then, we both should look presentable.” And she relents to me, knowing what I say to be true.” She smiled and gazed at Keane every so often as she spoke.
“Forgive the interruption, but you can speak to the actual Penelope?” I asked astonished.
“Of course, I can speak with all my vessels. I have at least that respect, others would block the vessels consciousness out, but I appreciate the relationship and the shared space. I like to think that is how I have survived this long. Which is the reason I was expelled from Penelope as a child; I should have never inhabited her that young”, she stopped and smiled to no one and nothing, “I’m sorry, Penelope was just agreeing with me and as I have explained to her, she was the most powerful vessel, even at that age, I had ever encountered, which she should take as an immense compliment.” She stopped again and nodded to herself.
“When Penelope was a child and my spirit entered her body, her power was vast but dangerously unstable. She was able to block me long enough to tell her mother someone else was in her body. Her mother reported this to the elders and a ceremony took place to expel me. My spirit hung over head but I didn’t cast a shadow upon them like they expected. I knew what I did was not how it is done, but I couldn’t let that little girl’s power escape me. I was relentless following her all the way to America, but I was obsessed and the excitement of the new world intrigued me.”
Keane spoke up before she had a chance to continue, “And her child?”
“Lives in New Orleans and probably can’t wait for us to die”, and she began to laugh hysterically, “I’m sorry, just an ongoing joke between us. Besides, we would hate for Cian to change his lifestyle again.” And she smiled in my direction.
Keane was obviously confused by our exchange, “What does that mean?” he said humorously. Before I had a chance to defend my honor to my brother, the priestess explained. Keane immediately turned back to me and said, “So you didn’t feed earlier tonight?”
“I did.” I replied and I can see he wants more detail.
The priestess snapped her head in my direction, “You fed off of a human?”
“No.” I am stern.
“What?! What the hell is she talking about?” Keane is confused and slowly growing irritated at the thought of it.
“You didn’t tell him?” The priestess is pulling my veil and Keane is slowly figuring it out.
“Not relevant to the situation at hand.”
“Still.”
“I know.” And there we were, back to our familiar broken sentence conversations.
“Okay…uh…what?” Keane said astonished and glanced back and forth from me to the priestess.
I ignored his comment and looked back at the priestess, “Since you’re laying it all out on the table, what is your real name?” it was a bold inquiry I admit, but I had to know and I thought Keane should know.
But my brother impressed me unexpectedly and said, “Myra Elnora”, beaming at her.
As she mirrored his sentimental gaze and the name fell from his lips, she bowed her head to us all. “At the time of our first meeting and the ritual, I was going by Gwendolyn DeGarva, in hopes of keeping the authorities of the day at bay.” She stops as if she is listening to Penelope. “Yes, you’re right, I shall.” Myra began telling us of her connection to each of us. For centuries she had watched over us, and as a result of her being the catalyst of who we are, is connected to us individually.
“Cian, I am connected to you mentally, your thought are my thoughts. I can hear everything you think and my dear, on some occasions it hasn’t been the most beautiful of thoughts. I know your predicament with the young woman and Estella’s connection to her and before you ask, I cannot get involved unfortunately,” she pauses, glancing annoyingly at Estella, who is still engrossed in her cell phone, “I also know of your feelings for Estella”, she pauses again hoping to gain the female vamp’s attention, which is exactly what she did. Estella tore herself away from her cell upon the last three words Myra uttered; her fierce green eyes blazing at the priestess. It’s not been the easiest of relationships where Estella and Penelope are concerned. Let’s just say, they don’t trust each other and Myra’s newest revelation isn’t helping matters, not to mention the stasis.
“It’s why we speak to each other the way we do, I already know what you’re thinking or about to think or ever thought of thinking.” She began cackling to herself, before speaking again to her inner self, “yes, three times fast, indeed.” She focused, “Apologies, I like to keep my vessels consciousnesses close as I have already told you, Penelope found that funny Cian.” She smiled at me, “We know, you’re glad she’s amused.”
I was dumbfounded, I said nothing, spoke no words, and uttered not a sound. I was beginning to feel a little put upon at this point, even for someone as old as me, who has seen virtually everything this world has to offer….my thoughts were interrupted, since at this point I know they don’t belong to only me.
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
Revelations of Cian
He turned to gain our reaction, he was quickly silenced by Estella’s words, “There are, be aware, we are never alone here.” She passed by him, exiting the tiny vessel gaining access to Penelope’s pier. We walk up the twisted staircase, constructed from worn boards, branches and vine, the hand rail resembling bones tied together with tendons and muscle.
The air was thick with humidity and Keane complained that the atmosphere was so oppressive it felt as if he was being pulled from the boney staircase; but something caught his senses and he began to take quick breaths as if tracking a scent. I turned the rusted door knob; Estella and I entering Penelope’s home without invitation, Keane was forced to reside on the other side of the threshold until she noticed our presence.
“Cian. Estella.” She said keeping her gaze on the tiny animal bones in front of her, “Please come in Keane, it’s been a very long time.” My head whipped back to glance at him step into Penelope’s door a smile crossing his lips. I looked back at her and then to Estella, who shrugged as if she didn’t care. Keane closed the door behind him and stood in front of her table of bones, waiting to meet her eyes. She finally lifted her head and they stared into each other for what seemed like forever.
“I knew I would find you again someday.” Keane said, continuing to gaze at her longingly, enraptured by her.
“And so you have”, Penelope’s eyes softened from her hazel brown to ice blue and her hair began to loosen and grow, turning from blue black to sandy blonde. She stood up from behind her table and her body began to slim and her clothes changed from the long sundress she wore as we entered to tattered rags. She stepped out from behind the table and the flip flops she was wearing began to disappear, to reveal bare white feet. Standing before us was no longer Penelope but the priestess who assisted us and turned us from human to vampire in Scotland centuries ago.
“What the fuck just happened?!?!”
Estella jumped from her dresser perch, landing with a thud. The boots she traded the heels for met the floor with persistence; she attempted to move from her landing and was rebuffed by the priestess’ simple yet powerful stare, resulting in Estella’s stasis.
“Under my roof, young one…..you will have respect for me and mine, quiet yourself or leave.”
Keane stood with his hands in his pants pockets during the priestess’ transformation and once it was complete, he thrust forward, wrapped his arms around the young woman, pulling her away to gaze at her face, he placed his hands around it, pulling it toward his and kissed her passionately. He pulled her away from him once more and said, “Your scent, I could detect it as soon as we got here, I just couldn’t believe it, I knew it had to be false. You’re really here.”
They embrace again and I look to Estella out of respect for the reunited, “lovers”. The priestess released Keane from her grasp, turned to me, still in her original form as the Scottish woman and asked both me and Keane to have a seat and hope to somewhat explain how she came to be here. We sat on two antique soda crates; Keane refused to divert his gaze elsewhere nearly missing the small wooden box as he sat.
I realized that her compassion for us that night meant more to him than the rest of us. Estella, once released from her time as a statue, re-perched herself on the old dresser, more wary of her actions as she re-immerses in her cell phone, but not before shooting invisible daggers at the priestess.
“Cian, I want to start by apologizing for not revealing myself to you years ago. For me it’s been a lifetime of failed trust and how was I to be sure you could be trusted, even after our long relationship.” I didn’t respond out of respect and she continued.
“Do you forgive me?” She said as she looked to me sympathetically. I simply nodded at her and I was glad she was familiar with my ways. She explained that she has existed for millennia, transferring her spirit into those who possess the ability to communicate with other realms. When we happened upon her in Dalry, she had been in her true form, it only became dangerous for her once the Christians had made their mark, deeming anyone connected to the spirit world to be feared and destroyed. She was called a witch, driven into the Cleeves Cove Cave system not far from her home and finally in 1576 she was burned at the stake as a woman named Bessie Dunlop.
She told us, as Bessie, she had received information through the dimensions in reference to lost items belonging to a Thomas Reid, former barony officer in Dalry. Being a compassionate person she reported the sighting, but the gesture was most unsettling for the authority since Mr. Reid died in the Battle of Pinkie 30 years prior.
Claiming to the law, she first encountered him while on a walk near Monkcastle. She admitted to having a familiar who taught her her trade of craft. Creating ointments and medicines out of herbs to heal the wounds or sicknesses of livestock and people; many knew of her and went to her for advice or a cure for a sick child, treating everyone equally, poor and rich alike.
Unfortunately she was eventually seen as a witch, a threat to be feared. There is some debate as to where she was burned at the stake; she can’t remember where her exact location of death is, but she theorized that it may have been Castle Hill in Edinburgh. But felt that a death at Corsehillmuir outside of Kilwinning would have been less embarrassing. I was extremely interested in this account and being as “Penelope” and I always spoke to one another in broken sentences, the vast and drawn out conversation was a welcome yet foreign one.
Keane and I sat listening as she recounted the many times she spirit jumped and I began to wonder what became of the consciousness of the human once “Penelope” or the priestess inhabited it. I let the thought escape as she spoke about arriving in Haiti, finding and inhabiting a little girl named Penelope D’Anjou. She explained that she resided in the girl for only a few years before being cast out of Penelope’s body by the elders of the girl’s village.
She recalled haunting various places around Haiti but no other vessel proved itself to be as worthy as the little Penelope. By the time the priestess’ spirit decided come hell or high water she would inhabit that little girl again; conjuring a stasis spell to remain inside until death, the proper way for the priestess to exit a vessel; the girl had grown into a woman and was pregnant with a baby girl herself. Inhabiting a vessel that is already occupied is highly forbidden and could cause the deaths of all three beings. She followed Penelope from Haiti to Louisiana and immediately after the child was born, the priestess found her way back inside the young woman.
“And I’ve been with her ever since, she’s a delightful person and a great asset to me and the community. She is much older now, but I don’t let that show when we take clients. She would prefer to look as she should at her age, but I told her that is not advisable, she would look, well... dead, if I did so.
I say to her, “”Penelope, you will die one of these days and I will be expelled from you, but until then, we both should look presentable.” And she relents to me, knowing what I say to be true.” She smiled and gazed at Keane every so often as she spoke.
“Forgive the interruption, but you can speak to the actual Penelope?” I asked astonished.
“Of course, I can speak with all my vessels. I have at least that respect, others would block the vessels consciousness out, but I appreciate the relationship and the shared space. I like to think that is how I have survived this long. Which is the reason I was expelled from Penelope as a child; I should have never inhabited her that young”, she stopped and smiled to no one and nothing, “I’m sorry, Penelope was just agreeing with me and as I have explained to her, she was the most powerful vessel, even at that age, I had ever encountered, which she should take as an immense compliment.” She stopped again and nodded to herself.
“When Penelope was a child and my spirit entered her body, her power was vast but dangerously unstable. She was able to block me long enough to tell her mother someone else was in her body. Her mother reported this to the elders and a ceremony took place to expel me. My spirit hung over head but I didn’t cast a shadow upon them like they expected. I knew what I did was not how it is done, but I couldn’t let that little girl’s power escape me. I was relentless following her all the way to America, but I was obsessed and the excitement of the new world intrigued me.”
Keane spoke up before she had a chance to continue, “And her child?”
“Lives in New Orleans and probably can’t wait for us to die”, and she began to laugh hysterically, “I’m sorry, just an ongoing joke between us. Besides, we would hate for Cian to change his lifestyle again.” And she smiled in my direction.
Keane was obviously confused by our exchange, “What does that mean?” he said humorously. Before I had a chance to defend my honor to my brother, the priestess explained. Keane immediately turned back to me and said, “So you didn’t feed earlier tonight?”
“I did.” I replied and I can see he wants more detail.
The priestess snapped her head in my direction, “You fed off of a human?”
“No.” I am stern.
“What?! What the hell is she talking about?” Keane is confused and slowly growing irritated at the thought of it.
“You didn’t tell him?” The priestess is pulling my veil and Keane is slowly figuring it out.
“Not relevant to the situation at hand.”
“Still.”
“I know.” And there we were, back to our familiar broken sentence conversations.
“Okay…uh…what?” Keane said astonished and glanced back and forth from me to the priestess.
I ignored his comment and looked back at the priestess, “Since you’re laying it all out on the table, what is your real name?” it was a bold inquiry I admit, but I had to know and I thought Keane should know.
But my brother impressed me unexpectedly and said, “Myra Elnora”, beaming at her.
As she mirrored his sentimental gaze and the name fell from his lips, she bowed her head to us all. “At the time of our first meeting and the ritual, I was going by Gwendolyn DeGarva, in hopes of keeping the authorities of the day at bay.” She stops as if she is listening to Penelope. “Yes, you’re right, I shall.” Myra began telling us of her connection to each of us. For centuries she had watched over us, and as a result of her being the catalyst of who we are, is connected to us individually.
“Cian, I am connected to you mentally, your thought are my thoughts. I can hear everything you think and my dear, on some occasions it hasn’t been the most beautiful of thoughts. I know your predicament with the young woman and Estella’s connection to her and before you ask, I cannot get involved unfortunately,” she pauses, glancing annoyingly at Estella, who is still engrossed in her cell phone, “I also know of your feelings for Estella”, she pauses again hoping to gain the female vamp’s attention, which is exactly what she did. Estella tore herself away from her cell upon the last three words Myra uttered; her fierce green eyes blazing at the priestess. It’s not been the easiest of relationships where Estella and Penelope are concerned. Let’s just say, they don’t trust each other and Myra’s newest revelation isn’t helping matters, not to mention the stasis.
“It’s why we speak to each other the way we do, I already know what you’re thinking or about to think or ever thought of thinking.” She began cackling to herself, before speaking again to her inner self, “yes, three times fast, indeed.” She focused, “Apologies, I like to keep my vessels consciousnesses close as I have already told you, Penelope found that funny Cian.” She smiled at me, “We know, you’re glad she’s amused.”
I was dumbfounded, I said nothing, spoke no words, and uttered not a sound. I was beginning to feel a little put upon at this point, even for someone as old as me, who has seen virtually everything this world has to offer….my thoughts were interrupted, since at this point I know they don’t belong to only me.
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
Revelations of Cian
April 6, 2014
INTERVIEWING AUTHORS...
A.D. Ellis; Author of the up-coming novel "For Nicky"!!!
A.D. Ellis
Q: What are you working on?
A: I'm very close to publishing my first novel title For Nicky. It's a contemporary new adult romance. I've also started work on my second book. It's about the sister in For Nicky. It's titled Because of Beckett. I hope to have it out before the end of the year! I have a whole list of book ideas on my computer. They range from children's books to funny things I've heard/said as a teacher to more romance ideas.
Q: How does your work differ from others of the same genre?
A: Well, I'm not sure since there are SO many authors in the romance genre. I will say that For Nicky is definitely not erotica. I'm not against erotica, it's just not what I wrote this time around. For Nicky is a love story. Love between brothers. Lost love in a family. Love of others. Romantic love. There is sex, but readers are going to have to invest in the love story and all of the twists and turns that come with it to get to the sex.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: For Nicky came about because of a couple reasons. One, I've read some terrible books and I felt challenged to do better than those. Two, I spent about a year watching a brother care for his special needs sibling during church services and it started this story brewing in my head. Three, I'm a sucker for a good love story and wanted to share with readers.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: My writing process is a work in progress! This book, For Nicky, started out as 20,000 words! It's now 70,000+. As it was my first endeavor in writing novel length stories, I found that I needed more of a "plan" when I started out. It's really come together nicely now, but it was rough to start. After taking what I've learned in writing For Nicky, I now make a plan of what's going to happen in the story before I start writing. Things may change as the story progresses and the characters develop, but having a plan is a life saver for me.
For Nicky
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
TEASER:
For Nicky by A.D. Ellis
Due out April 30, 2014
Elizabeth Decker views herself as shy, totally average, and pretty much insignificant. She’s
nothing special, at least not compared to her little sister, Audrey. Elizabeth is content with her plain
and lonely future; she’s too insecure to contemplate a relationship thanks to her sister. Audrey is a
bombshell and uses this to get what she wants. She’s a girl who will stop at nothing to control anyone
and everything around her. She craves power and doesn’t care if she has to hurt Elizabeth to get it.
Nathaniel Morgan has spent his whole life fighting for his twin brother, Nicholas. Somewhere
along the way, he lost himself. Now he’s just getting by. He’s devoted to his family, but emotionally
detached from the women he burns through like wildfire. He has no plans of getting into something as
complicated and committed as a “relationship”.
Nicholas Morgan has placed the new librarian, Miss Elizabeth, on a pedestal and is begging her
to meet his twin brother, Nathaniel. Elizabeth and Nathaniel agree to meet, for Nicky. Both are caught
off-guard when unexpected sparks fly between them. This was not in their plans. Will Nathaniel and
Elizabeth be able to escape a past that still plagues them? Or, will the past, suspicions, and insecurities
come between them one too many times?
**This is a contemporary new adult romance. It should be read by 18+ only due to language, sexual
situations, date rape, and drugs.
Readers can find A.D. on Facebook at www.facebook.com/adellisauthor
A.D. Ellis
Q: What are you working on?
A: I'm very close to publishing my first novel title For Nicky. It's a contemporary new adult romance. I've also started work on my second book. It's about the sister in For Nicky. It's titled Because of Beckett. I hope to have it out before the end of the year! I have a whole list of book ideas on my computer. They range from children's books to funny things I've heard/said as a teacher to more romance ideas.
Q: How does your work differ from others of the same genre?
A: Well, I'm not sure since there are SO many authors in the romance genre. I will say that For Nicky is definitely not erotica. I'm not against erotica, it's just not what I wrote this time around. For Nicky is a love story. Love between brothers. Lost love in a family. Love of others. Romantic love. There is sex, but readers are going to have to invest in the love story and all of the twists and turns that come with it to get to the sex.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: For Nicky came about because of a couple reasons. One, I've read some terrible books and I felt challenged to do better than those. Two, I spent about a year watching a brother care for his special needs sibling during church services and it started this story brewing in my head. Three, I'm a sucker for a good love story and wanted to share with readers.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: My writing process is a work in progress! This book, For Nicky, started out as 20,000 words! It's now 70,000+. As it was my first endeavor in writing novel length stories, I found that I needed more of a "plan" when I started out. It's really come together nicely now, but it was rough to start. After taking what I've learned in writing For Nicky, I now make a plan of what's going to happen in the story before I start writing. Things may change as the story progresses and the characters develop, but having a plan is a life saver for me.
For Nicky
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
TEASER:
For Nicky by A.D. Ellis
Due out April 30, 2014
Elizabeth Decker views herself as shy, totally average, and pretty much insignificant. She’s
nothing special, at least not compared to her little sister, Audrey. Elizabeth is content with her plain
and lonely future; she’s too insecure to contemplate a relationship thanks to her sister. Audrey is a
bombshell and uses this to get what she wants. She’s a girl who will stop at nothing to control anyone
and everything around her. She craves power and doesn’t care if she has to hurt Elizabeth to get it.
Nathaniel Morgan has spent his whole life fighting for his twin brother, Nicholas. Somewhere
along the way, he lost himself. Now he’s just getting by. He’s devoted to his family, but emotionally
detached from the women he burns through like wildfire. He has no plans of getting into something as
complicated and committed as a “relationship”.
Nicholas Morgan has placed the new librarian, Miss Elizabeth, on a pedestal and is begging her
to meet his twin brother, Nathaniel. Elizabeth and Nathaniel agree to meet, for Nicky. Both are caught
off-guard when unexpected sparks fly between them. This was not in their plans. Will Nathaniel and
Elizabeth be able to escape a past that still plagues them? Or, will the past, suspicions, and insecurities
come between them one too many times?
**This is a contemporary new adult romance. It should be read by 18+ only due to language, sexual
situations, date rape, and drugs.
Readers can find A.D. on Facebook at www.facebook.com/adellisauthor
A Time to Kill, A Time to Die, A Time to Hunt...
“It’s like the single largest vampire buffet in Louisiana.” Estella joked, but I felt the tension rise and in the direction of where Sophia and I met initially. She knew what was to take place now; she was wringing her hands and breathing heavily. She knows that if any sort of battle is to take place, she will be the tool Madliene uses. I turned to look up the balcony stairs, where Madliene could be seen pompously observing the feast she had displayed. She caught my stare and nodded to me before casting her gaze to the West corridor, where an iron gate had been installed since I was last here. I nudged Estella to the west and as I thought she hadn’t known of the gate. Estella and I both looked back to the balcony and were promptly beckoned to the Queen’s side with a wave of her hand.
Reluctantly Estella and I played the part of loyal subjects and on the way up I whispered to her that the possibility of the creature being caught is already accomplished and this is the exercise to see how well the animal can behave, the gate was the dead giveaway.
“My dearest Estella and Cian! Come and treat with me, Xavier and my new friend….?” She waved her hand toward a scared young girl who fearfully told us her name was, “Beth.”
“Ah, yes, Beth! I am so enamored with you tonight my dear,” she says to the poor frightened girl, “ it’s going to be an exciting evening and I am fondly looking forward to the festivities, aren’t you, Beth?” She said sliding a bone finger under the girl’s quivering chin. Madliene is looking up at the girl like she was the Queen’s long lost Mother before jumping up at the sight of Keane’s arrival.
She ran to the edge of the staircase shot her slender arm into the air calling for him to of course join her wonderful party. He nodded to her and then looked to me tilting his head toward the West corridor; I quickly acknowledged that I was aware of the newly added gate. He made a gesture indicating he was going to take a closer look, when I raised an eye to hinder him from making such a mistake.
On the battlefield this way of communication can be extremely helpful when trying to conceal your location. Keane and I had had enough practice at this that we were basically in each other’s mind when doing so. He was finally making his way through the sea of humans, also observing that he was the only vampire male on the floor his pace quickened, almost reaching the staircase, he was grabbed by a thin flamboyant man with a black net shirt and tight leathers.
His fingerless gloves dressed the brightly painted finger nailed appendage, which was at the moment caressing Keane’s rugged face. I couldn’t help but snicker to myself a bit. But Keane is a smooth one and simply brushed the sticky black hair from the man’s face and just from the mere touch of Keane the man’s knees began to weaken. That is until Keane nailed his coffin by turning the man away from the eyes of the other patrons nuzzling into the man’s neck, sinking his teeth in to feed.
Upon the little man’s extinguishing and a snap of the fingers from the Queen; Damien was there to drag the body away before anyone was the wiser. Keane licked his fingers upon his ascent like he had just eaten a plate of fried chicken, “Mmm, smoky, a hint of cannabis I think.”
All of us, except scared little Beth, smiled at the joke. Madliene expressing the most enjoyment, laughed manically before addressing the crowd below her.
“Good Evening everyone!” she called out to the conglomerate.
“Good Evening Queen Madliene!” the roar from the humans below was deafening.
“I have a wonderful surprise for you all.” And she paused, smiling devilishly at them. “You are all going to die tonight!”
A silence fell before the people who looked around at each other for reassurance, and then the eruption of glorious adoration for the majestic being holding court high above them rang through the club. I turned to Estella simply shaking my head at the pathetic ignorance. Madliene gestured to Damien and Romeo who instantly abided her, locking the entrance door. The sounds of the locks rang clear and as adoration became panic I noticed the West corridor gate was open the space behind it black and impenetrable.
Not even the gift of vampire sight could decipher what lay behind that blackness. The house lights fell and the music beat away any sound other than blood curdling screams. From then we all stared as an unseen force tore through the crowd, splaying decapitated heads and limbs as it fed. Torn clothes flew about the club like a tornado of Goth attire while a sparkling heel caught the light as it flew up over the balcony railing forcing Estella to duck for cover.
It wasn’t ten minutes before all noise ceased. No more screams or gurgling of throats and the perpetrator of the fray was missing. I raced to the railing looking over and down, from the west corridor to the east and then to the haven doors.
“Keane, you with me?” I said as I raced down the staircase toward the broken Haven doors.
“Aye, behind you.” Keane called as I reached the last step.
“I’m coming too,” Estella called, her heels clicking down each step “Soph...” she called before looking back up to the balcony for the Queen’s permission, which was granted after a long angry look from Madliene.
Sophia followed Estella meeting Keane and I at the top of the stone staircase leading to the havens. Estella and Sophia, being the most familiar with the layout of the interior and exterior corridors broke us off, she and Keane went east along the interior and Sophia and I would go west along the exterior. As it seemed like a lost cause for Sophia and me, we returned to the area outside of Estella’s chamber. I felt a twinge of pain coming from the other side of the carved door.
“Call Estella…” I began to say before she and Keane appeared behind us.
“Don’t bother, I saw it…go inside.” Estella said as she nodded toward the door. We all stood staring at the lock as Estella produced the key, sliding the long iron trinket inside turning it to free the wood from its bonds. Estella had, while exploring the west corridor read the immediate energy of the creature, following it to her own home.
“It came through here…” her words trailing off.
“What is it Estella?” I asked.
“It’s…..one of us….” She said disgustingly.
“What do you mean, “one of…us?” Sophia inquired.
“I mean, while he ran through the corridor he was muttering to himself about a woman, maybe Madliene, maybe Babet? He kept asking, “Why?””
“What did he say exactly?”
She closed her eyes, turning her head away from a vision in her mind. Her body began to slump, one arm hanging lower than the other, her fingers forming claws, “Why did they do this? Where is she?” over and over again. We all observed as Estella’s vision faded, her posture returned and her eyes cleared. She pushed open the heavy door, swiftly walking toward her dressing screen.
“Estella, wait.” But before the words left my lips she disappeared behind it. Over the top edge we could see her push back the long tapestry hanging behind the screen. Behind the tapestry an arched stone doorway whose blackness enveloped Estella as she passed under it. Waiting we looked to one another for some sign or sound from Estella then a soft screech came from the darkness and we all started to dart through when she emerged dragging behind her, the creature.
Its body is mangled with multiple bite marks and burns. It lay on the floor at Estella’s feet in a fetal position as if it was expecting us to annihilate it, which wasn’t the case when it began to laugh. And speak.
“You won’t hurt me,” it whispered and it was apparent that at one time it was a man. His head was down but we all could hear his next words very clearly, “not your own brother.” The word echoed my ears and I felt a familiarity about him other than our encounter in the Quarter. I pondered this until my thoughts were interrupted by Sophia’s eerily sweet voice.
She crouched to meet his gaze, stared into his open eye; the other had been badly scarred and no longer opened as a result. She stared into him silently; she then picked herself up from the floor, brandishing the iron knuckles, gaining the momentum to strike him unexpectedly, “Your kind does not relate to me.” She said before spitting in his face. “Call Damien, get him out of here, his flesh disgusts me.” Sophia had never expressed such hate toward anyone or anything, unless provoked by the Queen, which since she was not in the vicinity of the Queen, is impossible.
The creature is rendered unconscious, his body slapping the stone floor and without word to any of us, Sophia turned and left Estella’s chamber. We all stood a little dumbfounded by what just occurred and before anyone could speak I made a brass suggestion.
“I think we need a trip to the swamp.” I look to Estella, her face turning sour at the thought of it.
“Cian, he’s vampire, of some kind and sure to survive a gator attack.” She stated; her tone obvious.
“Not what I meant Estella, not what I meant at all. I think it’s time Keane met Penelope.”
Estella’s reaction wasn’t an agreeable one, but she knew I was right. “Okay, but what are we going to do with this?” she said pointing to the mass of twisted flesh and bone lying unconscious on her chamber floor.
“Where does Madliene keep the not so welcome guests?” Keane said jokingly yet with great inquisition, placing this thumb and index finger around his chin.
“On the lowest level, the hall opposite the wine cellar is gated cells, we can place him there. Should we provide a meal, lest he wake? Oh that’s right, he just slaughtered an entire hall of humans, he’s good.” Estella really had a knack for speaking when she so desired.
“Do it.” I say to Estella, who doesn’t seem too happy to oblige. “We’ll meet you outside.”
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
Reluctantly Estella and I played the part of loyal subjects and on the way up I whispered to her that the possibility of the creature being caught is already accomplished and this is the exercise to see how well the animal can behave, the gate was the dead giveaway.
“My dearest Estella and Cian! Come and treat with me, Xavier and my new friend….?” She waved her hand toward a scared young girl who fearfully told us her name was, “Beth.”
“Ah, yes, Beth! I am so enamored with you tonight my dear,” she says to the poor frightened girl, “ it’s going to be an exciting evening and I am fondly looking forward to the festivities, aren’t you, Beth?” She said sliding a bone finger under the girl’s quivering chin. Madliene is looking up at the girl like she was the Queen’s long lost Mother before jumping up at the sight of Keane’s arrival.
She ran to the edge of the staircase shot her slender arm into the air calling for him to of course join her wonderful party. He nodded to her and then looked to me tilting his head toward the West corridor; I quickly acknowledged that I was aware of the newly added gate. He made a gesture indicating he was going to take a closer look, when I raised an eye to hinder him from making such a mistake.
On the battlefield this way of communication can be extremely helpful when trying to conceal your location. Keane and I had had enough practice at this that we were basically in each other’s mind when doing so. He was finally making his way through the sea of humans, also observing that he was the only vampire male on the floor his pace quickened, almost reaching the staircase, he was grabbed by a thin flamboyant man with a black net shirt and tight leathers.
His fingerless gloves dressed the brightly painted finger nailed appendage, which was at the moment caressing Keane’s rugged face. I couldn’t help but snicker to myself a bit. But Keane is a smooth one and simply brushed the sticky black hair from the man’s face and just from the mere touch of Keane the man’s knees began to weaken. That is until Keane nailed his coffin by turning the man away from the eyes of the other patrons nuzzling into the man’s neck, sinking his teeth in to feed.
Upon the little man’s extinguishing and a snap of the fingers from the Queen; Damien was there to drag the body away before anyone was the wiser. Keane licked his fingers upon his ascent like he had just eaten a plate of fried chicken, “Mmm, smoky, a hint of cannabis I think.”
All of us, except scared little Beth, smiled at the joke. Madliene expressing the most enjoyment, laughed manically before addressing the crowd below her.
“Good Evening everyone!” she called out to the conglomerate.
“Good Evening Queen Madliene!” the roar from the humans below was deafening.
“I have a wonderful surprise for you all.” And she paused, smiling devilishly at them. “You are all going to die tonight!”
A silence fell before the people who looked around at each other for reassurance, and then the eruption of glorious adoration for the majestic being holding court high above them rang through the club. I turned to Estella simply shaking my head at the pathetic ignorance. Madliene gestured to Damien and Romeo who instantly abided her, locking the entrance door. The sounds of the locks rang clear and as adoration became panic I noticed the West corridor gate was open the space behind it black and impenetrable.
Not even the gift of vampire sight could decipher what lay behind that blackness. The house lights fell and the music beat away any sound other than blood curdling screams. From then we all stared as an unseen force tore through the crowd, splaying decapitated heads and limbs as it fed. Torn clothes flew about the club like a tornado of Goth attire while a sparkling heel caught the light as it flew up over the balcony railing forcing Estella to duck for cover.
It wasn’t ten minutes before all noise ceased. No more screams or gurgling of throats and the perpetrator of the fray was missing. I raced to the railing looking over and down, from the west corridor to the east and then to the haven doors.
“Keane, you with me?” I said as I raced down the staircase toward the broken Haven doors.
“Aye, behind you.” Keane called as I reached the last step.
“I’m coming too,” Estella called, her heels clicking down each step “Soph...” she called before looking back up to the balcony for the Queen’s permission, which was granted after a long angry look from Madliene.
Sophia followed Estella meeting Keane and I at the top of the stone staircase leading to the havens. Estella and Sophia, being the most familiar with the layout of the interior and exterior corridors broke us off, she and Keane went east along the interior and Sophia and I would go west along the exterior. As it seemed like a lost cause for Sophia and me, we returned to the area outside of Estella’s chamber. I felt a twinge of pain coming from the other side of the carved door.
“Call Estella…” I began to say before she and Keane appeared behind us.
“Don’t bother, I saw it…go inside.” Estella said as she nodded toward the door. We all stood staring at the lock as Estella produced the key, sliding the long iron trinket inside turning it to free the wood from its bonds. Estella had, while exploring the west corridor read the immediate energy of the creature, following it to her own home.
“It came through here…” her words trailing off.
“What is it Estella?” I asked.
“It’s…..one of us….” She said disgustingly.
“What do you mean, “one of…us?” Sophia inquired.
“I mean, while he ran through the corridor he was muttering to himself about a woman, maybe Madliene, maybe Babet? He kept asking, “Why?””
“What did he say exactly?”
She closed her eyes, turning her head away from a vision in her mind. Her body began to slump, one arm hanging lower than the other, her fingers forming claws, “Why did they do this? Where is she?” over and over again. We all observed as Estella’s vision faded, her posture returned and her eyes cleared. She pushed open the heavy door, swiftly walking toward her dressing screen.
“Estella, wait.” But before the words left my lips she disappeared behind it. Over the top edge we could see her push back the long tapestry hanging behind the screen. Behind the tapestry an arched stone doorway whose blackness enveloped Estella as she passed under it. Waiting we looked to one another for some sign or sound from Estella then a soft screech came from the darkness and we all started to dart through when she emerged dragging behind her, the creature.
Its body is mangled with multiple bite marks and burns. It lay on the floor at Estella’s feet in a fetal position as if it was expecting us to annihilate it, which wasn’t the case when it began to laugh. And speak.
“You won’t hurt me,” it whispered and it was apparent that at one time it was a man. His head was down but we all could hear his next words very clearly, “not your own brother.” The word echoed my ears and I felt a familiarity about him other than our encounter in the Quarter. I pondered this until my thoughts were interrupted by Sophia’s eerily sweet voice.
She crouched to meet his gaze, stared into his open eye; the other had been badly scarred and no longer opened as a result. She stared into him silently; she then picked herself up from the floor, brandishing the iron knuckles, gaining the momentum to strike him unexpectedly, “Your kind does not relate to me.” She said before spitting in his face. “Call Damien, get him out of here, his flesh disgusts me.” Sophia had never expressed such hate toward anyone or anything, unless provoked by the Queen, which since she was not in the vicinity of the Queen, is impossible.
The creature is rendered unconscious, his body slapping the stone floor and without word to any of us, Sophia turned and left Estella’s chamber. We all stood a little dumbfounded by what just occurred and before anyone could speak I made a brass suggestion.
“I think we need a trip to the swamp.” I look to Estella, her face turning sour at the thought of it.
“Cian, he’s vampire, of some kind and sure to survive a gator attack.” She stated; her tone obvious.
“Not what I meant Estella, not what I meant at all. I think it’s time Keane met Penelope.”
Estella’s reaction wasn’t an agreeable one, but she knew I was right. “Okay, but what are we going to do with this?” she said pointing to the mass of twisted flesh and bone lying unconscious on her chamber floor.
“Where does Madliene keep the not so welcome guests?” Keane said jokingly yet with great inquisition, placing this thumb and index finger around his chin.
“On the lowest level, the hall opposite the wine cellar is gated cells, we can place him there. Should we provide a meal, lest he wake? Oh that’s right, he just slaughtered an entire hall of humans, he’s good.” Estella really had a knack for speaking when she so desired.
“Do it.” I say to Estella, who doesn’t seem too happy to oblige. “We’ll meet you outside.”
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
April 1, 2014
INTERVIEWING one of my FAVORITE AUTHORS...
G.D. Ogan
G. D. Ogan; Author of the Immortal Relations series!!!
Q: What are you working on?
A: Currently I'm jumping WAY OUT OF MY Adult Paranormal-Romance genre' working on a book for my six year old granddaughter Lily titled, "Lily and the Time Buggy." It's about building a time machine to take Lily, her Pop-Pop (me) and a friend of mine who owns a "Museum of Pre-History" back to the age of dinosaurs. This is not a "See Spot run, see Jane chase Spot, see John follow Jane" type of book for a child to read (too many big words and concepts). It's a book to be read to a child by an adult who can explain some of what the book contains. My granddaughter LOVES DINOSAURS so this is going to be for her, I'm not sure I'll get it published. Once finished, I'll work on my forth book in my "Immortal Relations" series titled, "Immortal Relations, REVENGE!" I already know what it is about and much of the action for it.
Q: How does your work differ from others of the same genre?
A: I REALLY RESPECT the new crop of authors who are bringing "NEW LIFE" to the genre' of the LIVING DEAD! One of my favorites is, of course, Augusta and her Morte' Series. I just LOVE the developing relationship between her two principle characters Babet and Cian and all the supporting caste (what a great series of films it would make). My vampires are unusual in many ways, for the little blood they need they have corporations owning funeral homes. In accordance with funerary laws blood from the deceased is replaced with preservatives and rather than having that blood flushed, it is quick frozen for later use by our good vampires - a true symbiotic relationship. The good vampires were, for the most part, "changed" by being attacked by the out of control, evil type of vampires. My good vampires have sworn to protect humans from such attacks, harm from human criminals and the evil designs of power-mad politicians trying to enslave the masses. My guardian vampires live together for mutual defense in The Residency Coven, as well as other covens and in the third book open a new coven in the lower part of Canada outside of Cayuga in an old military armory they have refurbished and made into a Health Spa. Gary, the primary male character starts as a human in search of information about where his late father worked at the end of World War Two when he finds a photograph which reveals that his father had had a tryst while stationed overseas. Flying to Prague, Czechoslovakia, he meets a lovely but very unusual young lady. But she seems to know far more about his father than she possibly could. Gary immediately realizes she is not the normal human female he has dealt with before, but it isn't long before he cannot hide his growing love for her.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: The first book, "Immortal Relations" starts out with a true-life family story. When "Gary" finds the photograph of his late father as a young man in Prague, that part is true (only in this case Gary Logan is actually Guy Ogan - yours truly). It was my own father whose picture is on page two of the book. When I found that photograph a flood of memories returned to me of things my late mother had said, many, many years before - things I couldn't understand when I was just a child. She had said, "He is over there with THAT woman!" When I asked who she was talking about she would say nothing. I would later hear her exclaim, "He has had a child with THAT woman!" Again, there was no further information provided when I asked, but not long after that she asked me "What would you do if I divorced your father?" I was only six years old and not as sophisticated and street savvy as many children are today so I never put two and two together. Finding all this out and having all those memories come flooding back WAS MORE THAN A SHOCK TO ME. That night I couldn't sleep and I got up and felt compelled to go to the computer. I was a competent typist in college and during my graduate programs, but arthritis had taken its toll on the flexibility of my hands. However, that night the story poured forth at a speed from my fingers I had never reached before and it was as if they had taken on a "life-of-there-own." You could say my Muse took over...or perhaps that I channeled that first story, as if to give a different and positive view of vampirism, one not seen before. With the subsequent novels, "Immortal Relations, Love and War" and "Immortal Relations Coming Out" a lot is "provided" through my dreams and because of my diverse background of military officer and working in the Texas Prison System, retiring as a Psychologist, the stories are mostly about what I have done or was trained to do, as well as what I believe is important. Basically, Gary is in fact ME...I can honestly say, "To know Gary is to know me."
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: As alluded to above, I dream in character and get up and type or sit at the keyboard in the daytime and type what comes to (or through) me. I love to type late into the night and past the break of dawn when the house is quiet and I can let the story flow consciously or unconsciously.
Immortal Relations
Immortal Relations: Love & War
**G. D.'s books can be found…
"Immortal Relations" http://amzn.com/B006ZCBT6G Caution, there is "explicit togetherness" sex in the book.
"Immortal Relations, Love and War" http://amzn.com/B00A4IEHL6 Action on steroids, but far less explicit sex.
"Immortal Relations Coming Out" http://amzn.com/B00G5BQS18 A lot of political intrigue as well as romance.
G. D. Ogan; Author of the Immortal Relations series!!!
Q: What are you working on?
A: Currently I'm jumping WAY OUT OF MY Adult Paranormal-Romance genre' working on a book for my six year old granddaughter Lily titled, "Lily and the Time Buggy." It's about building a time machine to take Lily, her Pop-Pop (me) and a friend of mine who owns a "Museum of Pre-History" back to the age of dinosaurs. This is not a "See Spot run, see Jane chase Spot, see John follow Jane" type of book for a child to read (too many big words and concepts). It's a book to be read to a child by an adult who can explain some of what the book contains. My granddaughter LOVES DINOSAURS so this is going to be for her, I'm not sure I'll get it published. Once finished, I'll work on my forth book in my "Immortal Relations" series titled, "Immortal Relations, REVENGE!" I already know what it is about and much of the action for it.
Q: How does your work differ from others of the same genre?
A: I REALLY RESPECT the new crop of authors who are bringing "NEW LIFE" to the genre' of the LIVING DEAD! One of my favorites is, of course, Augusta and her Morte' Series. I just LOVE the developing relationship between her two principle characters Babet and Cian and all the supporting caste (what a great series of films it would make). My vampires are unusual in many ways, for the little blood they need they have corporations owning funeral homes. In accordance with funerary laws blood from the deceased is replaced with preservatives and rather than having that blood flushed, it is quick frozen for later use by our good vampires - a true symbiotic relationship. The good vampires were, for the most part, "changed" by being attacked by the out of control, evil type of vampires. My good vampires have sworn to protect humans from such attacks, harm from human criminals and the evil designs of power-mad politicians trying to enslave the masses. My guardian vampires live together for mutual defense in The Residency Coven, as well as other covens and in the third book open a new coven in the lower part of Canada outside of Cayuga in an old military armory they have refurbished and made into a Health Spa. Gary, the primary male character starts as a human in search of information about where his late father worked at the end of World War Two when he finds a photograph which reveals that his father had had a tryst while stationed overseas. Flying to Prague, Czechoslovakia, he meets a lovely but very unusual young lady. But she seems to know far more about his father than she possibly could. Gary immediately realizes she is not the normal human female he has dealt with before, but it isn't long before he cannot hide his growing love for her.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: The first book, "Immortal Relations" starts out with a true-life family story. When "Gary" finds the photograph of his late father as a young man in Prague, that part is true (only in this case Gary Logan is actually Guy Ogan - yours truly). It was my own father whose picture is on page two of the book. When I found that photograph a flood of memories returned to me of things my late mother had said, many, many years before - things I couldn't understand when I was just a child. She had said, "He is over there with THAT woman!" When I asked who she was talking about she would say nothing. I would later hear her exclaim, "He has had a child with THAT woman!" Again, there was no further information provided when I asked, but not long after that she asked me "What would you do if I divorced your father?" I was only six years old and not as sophisticated and street savvy as many children are today so I never put two and two together. Finding all this out and having all those memories come flooding back WAS MORE THAN A SHOCK TO ME. That night I couldn't sleep and I got up and felt compelled to go to the computer. I was a competent typist in college and during my graduate programs, but arthritis had taken its toll on the flexibility of my hands. However, that night the story poured forth at a speed from my fingers I had never reached before and it was as if they had taken on a "life-of-there-own." You could say my Muse took over...or perhaps that I channeled that first story, as if to give a different and positive view of vampirism, one not seen before. With the subsequent novels, "Immortal Relations, Love and War" and "Immortal Relations Coming Out" a lot is "provided" through my dreams and because of my diverse background of military officer and working in the Texas Prison System, retiring as a Psychologist, the stories are mostly about what I have done or was trained to do, as well as what I believe is important. Basically, Gary is in fact ME...I can honestly say, "To know Gary is to know me."
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: As alluded to above, I dream in character and get up and type or sit at the keyboard in the daytime and type what comes to (or through) me. I love to type late into the night and past the break of dawn when the house is quiet and I can let the story flow consciously or unconsciously.
Immortal Relations
Immortal Relations: Love & War
**G. D.'s books can be found…
"Immortal Relations" http://amzn.com/B006ZCBT6G Caution, there is "explicit togetherness" sex in the book.
"Immortal Relations, Love and War" http://amzn.com/B00A4IEHL6 Action on steroids, but far less explicit sex.
"Immortal Relations Coming Out" http://amzn.com/B00G5BQS18 A lot of political intrigue as well as romance.
March 30, 2014
Reunion of Brothers...meanwhile back at the club
At the sound of those words I turned hard and remorseful as he and I assisted in some extremely horrid acts during that time. He sensed this in me and apologized, requesting that I proceed with my inquiry. I resumed my seat, with Keane I never want to seem like a detective overworking a homicide case, but Babet was my greatest concern and I needed to know that he wasn’t a part of the extinction of her family in an attempt to make her vampire property.
I had to choose my words carefully, Keane was my brother and even though we had fallen out of touch over the years I had a great deal of respect and love for him. But the words came harshly and accusingly no matter how hard I tried to suppress it.
“Why are you here Keane?” My face a stone wall as I asked, shifting in my chair. He wove his fingers into each other in front of his chest, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair; his outlook indifferent as he searched for a response.
“She said you would do this and I told her there was no way my brother would question my arrival, but here you are. Just like she said.” His final sentence sounding hurt that I would find malice in anything Keane would do. “She really has you vexed, huh?” The question rattled around in my mind, which “she” is he referring to, Madliene or Babet?
I remain quiet as he had yet to answer my question. He shifted forward in his seat and lowered his hands, “I was here with the Icelandic clan, because I’ve been working with Linde for the past fifty years. After Madliene’s meeting with him she asked that I stop by the club before I left town. The Queen requested my presence Cian. I haven’t been briefed as to why, but upon my arrival I requested to meet with you before she had a chance to fill me with lies.” He laughed and leaned back in his chair.
I stared at him not understanding his meaning. I am aware of our Queen’s ways and occasionally all the facts are not present during her briefings. She will provide what she deems necessary information to obtain her goals, but she tends to fail in explaining the minor details that could cause immortal and mortal casualties alike.
I have witnessed that injustice too many times to count. With our Queen remarking, “you have to break a few eggs, don’t you.” Many vampires employed by the Queen have met their fate or final death due to her lack of attention to detail.
“I thought you of all people would respect that, that our relationship is thicker, stronger than her.” Keane said interrupting my thoughts, his sea blue eyes penetrating my hollow interior.
“I am sorry, brother. It’s been so long and I…..I am so different these days. I feel like I’ve lost myself along the way working for the Monarchy. Just…how much do you know?”
“Not much,” his hand went up and his shoulders shrugged, “ She did mentioned the situation regarding a local human and the picking off of the family, that New Orleans has had an influx of unregistered vampires. Also, she required another skilled “warrior””, his fingers making air quotes, “her term by the way, to work the bounties and on occasion opposite of you at the club. What I don’t know is why this human is so important to her, for one. Secondly who are the unregistered vamps and why are there so many. And third, why are you not able to fulfill your obligations to our most gracious Queen?” His tone became sarcastic, rolling his blue eyes and with his final words he folded his arms across his chest.
I took a deep breath and began to explain Babet, how she is related to us and our kind and why we are exposing ourselves to help her. I kept the fact that I had virtually stalked her for days prior to learning of her identity and her connection to Estella hidden from Keane. Keane knew Estella in passing and a brief history in her making, but that was all he knew of her. I explained the painstaking we had endured to keep the woman and her two children safe.
The word “children” invoked a reaction in Keane I hadn’t seen since we were in the priestess’ hut long ago in Scotland. A look of sympathy crossed his face and I knew that he would be a great ally for Babet. I continued that I wasn’t absolute regarding the influx, but I had suspicion that it might be Alistair and Flannaghan from the Queen’s New York days come to exact their revenge for her actions against them so many years ago. But I had no hard or current evidence to implicate them or any indication of their whereabouts. All of these elements add up to explain my recent absence at the club, but due to Keane’s intelligence he had already deduced that I was spending my off hours with Babet by more than just a request of the Queen. “Whose relation is the human?” Damn Keane, doesn’t miss a beat.
“Estella’s.” Then Keane said something that piqued interest in my own actions.
“Then let me ask you Cian, is it the Queen keeping you babysitting the human or are you doing it as a favor to Estella?” he said leering at me.
The answer to this question was a complicated one. If I was honest with him I would tell him that it is my own obsession that keeps me at Babet’s four nights a week but this information in Keane’s mind would be one of danger. He would advise me to stay away from the human, leaving Estella to clean up her own family’s mess but the hero in him would suggest otherwise. He continued to leer at me as I had done him when I thought he hadn’t been forthcoming with me. At that moment I decided to keep the answer simple and what would seem predictable in Keane’s mind.
“I do this because it was requested of me by our Queen.” The words sounded submissive in my head. “But the way I continue to protect her, is favor to Estella.” And I looked right at him waiting for a reply.
He gathered himself and took a deep breath.“You have definitely changed, brother.” His tone was one of disappointment as though I had purposely defied him in some great endeavor.
“Listen, I know you have a thing for Estella; the Queen did tell me that much, that she feels the obsession with Estella is overwhelming you, hindering your abilities.” His factual accusations enraged me.
I felt the need to defend myself, but I kept my calm and allowed him to continue. Keane had an outstanding ability to see realities for what they were and I was no different in his eyes. He continued rattling off the Queen’s comments until finally he stopped and retracted, “But I know you brother”, he became extremely serious; “I know that you cannot be this wound up in her politics that you can’t see what she is doing.” I sat back in my seat as he spoke, realizing how correct his assessment was.
I used to be less willing to please, I used to be one who scrutinizes, but what he didn’t know was the real reasons behind my actions, unless he did and he was waiting for me to confess. It was a true thing; I had spent too much time away from my brother. If I confessed the proverbial beans would be spilled and I couldn’t have Keane thinking any less of me than he did at this moment. I smiled at him and told him I wanted to introduce him to someone. He remarked, “This isn’t over, Cian.”
“Understood.” I stated factually. I stood from my seat and Keane’s eyes followed as I crossed the receiving room toward the front door.
“Where are you off to now, brother?” Keane’s voice echoed the cathedral ceiling as the door closed behind me. I wasn’t two steps from the door before it opened again, “Cian!?”
“Meet me at back at Morte’ in an hour.” I called back to him as I vanished into the thick evening air. I had to stop by my warehouse for a change of attire and possible weapon collection.
Inside Morte’ the deep bass of Deftones’ “Passenger” thumped through the unseen house speakers as the confidence of all in attendance was palpable; I received more than a few looks from the female humans in the club as I crested the threshold and took a big whiff of the bouquet before me.
And it occurred to me to be strange that human was the only scent I detected tonight and from the expression on Sophia’s face I was not as well informed as I should be. Being the only male vampire present I was propositioned by more than enough women looking for a thrill, the walk from the front door of Morte’ to the bar where Sophia stood nervously behind, was not all that long.
My declination to their offers appeared to be taken a multitude of ways. Some mortified by even the approach, others angered, I could also detect hints of jealousy, sadness and depression. Human emotion is not one of the aspects of my former mortality I long for, and until I became aware of Babet’s existence, I was free of them.
I reached the bar just as the music shifted from Deftones to Lords of Acid, “Rough Sex”; Sophia quickly disappeared behind it, before reappearing a second later. In her hand and around her fingers was a set of iron “brass” knuckles.
I nodded toward them as Sophia spoke, “Before you ask, we have a major problem”, she said as she adjusted her breasts to place a tiny dagger between them. She raised her head and met my gaze, her brown eyes flickering with hints of hazel, she was worried. Her thick black hair had been straightened and at the right angle a sheer of raven blue engulfed it. She placed her hair carefully not to reveal the handle of the dagger and her olive skin radiated beautifully through her black lace tunic, whose flared sleeves concealed the iron knuckles. She stepped out from the bar to escort me to the haven doors.
Her platform heels clicking across the floor attracting a little more attention than anticipated and the closer we came to the doors a human mob began to descend; Sophia’s eyes were more intense than I have ever seen them, including her birth into darkness. I clutched my arm around her waist and flashed through the haven doors, slamming them behind us. I turned to face the young vampire, clasping my hands to both her shoulders, “Sophia, calm.”
Her eyes stared directly into mine; intensifying once more before sullying slowly back to a darker hazel. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. I knew that the smell was overwhelming and she must have some order from the Queen to remain from the feed, but for a younger vampire that is a tall order. Sophia hasn’t had enough time nor the opportunity to hone such skills, being a speck under the Queen’s thumb is tiring and lacks education.
The Queen has been making ones like Sophia for centuries. She will break free like all the others, but it takes cunning among age and anger. For the time being Sophia is a slave to the Queen. I knew that the attempt to probe Sophia for knowledge would be futile, she knew this as well and said, “Go to Estella.”
Nodding in the direction of Estella’s haven door, the inclination that she wasn’t going to explain tonight’s strange happenings, was apparent. Making my way down the stone corridor toward Estella’s door I stopped short just before entering, staring at the beautifully carved barrier between me and my once obsession.
Before I had a chance to reach for the handle, the door flew open, Estella had been preparing for tonight and had just come from a warm bath. I could feel the heat from the water radiate off her cold skin and smell the luxuriousness of her bath salts. Her hair piled on top of her head in what looked like chopsticks sticking out of the sides. She waved her hand to invite me in and once I returned my gaze to her face, I could see she was slightly perturbed by my lack of focus.
I apologized and entered her chamber, “Sorry.”
“No problem, I understand better tha….” She trailed off, as the sentiment would of course be lost on me, “sit.” She said as she readjusted her wrap, turning from me to go behind the dressing screen in the corner of her chamber cell. “So, as I am sure you’ve heard, we are on high alert tonight.”
“Yes, I gathered that from Sophia’s demeanor.”
“Before I go into that, you should know, I spoke with Babet, she is taking the kids to dinner and a movie tonight, I told her to touch base with me when the movie was over...” she trailed off to administer some piece of clothing and I could make out the voluptuous silhouette her body made as she removed the sticks from her hair, cascading down her back hitting the base of her spine as it fell. She bent down putting her feet inside of a pair of shorts, pulling them up securing the suspenders accompanying them, arcing her back as she did up the buttons until she suddenly stopped, craning her head around the screen, “Figures” she said as she rolled her eyes at me.
“I am still a man, Estella.” I explained sarcastically before rising from my seat.
“Yes.” Estella being Estella, wrapped her leg around the edge of the dressing screen, her foot encased in a blue and white platform heel resembling a child’s saddle shoe, pointed so that her toe graced the floor slightly, she placed the foot and then spun the rest of her body out from the dressing screen, in true stripper fashion and I couldn’t help but smile slyly before laughing heartily as she continued.
The shorts were high waist and looked like Navy sailor pants. Estella was going for a 1940’s look tonight. While behind the screen she had pinned her hair back on both sides and it had formed tight curls while up. She was gloriously beautiful as she always was, and asked her how she got to be so. She walked over to me, placing her hand on my chest.
“Thank you Cian, I can always count on you.” Her smile through bright red lips was intoxicating.
“Don’t forget it, ok?” I said brushing the back of my hand against her face.
“So?” We stood looking at each other for a moment, when Estella regained her train of thought. I turned to take my seat again.
“Sorry, just….thinking. So yes, earlier today I awoke to find Morte’ blazing with mortal life, even the halls of the haven were permeated with the scent of human blood. I opened my door to see why Madliene was already allowing patrons, when it slammed closed before me.” She sat next to me on the 18th century tufted couch. “Xavier had slipped into my chamber before the door closed and before I knew it he was between me and the door, he then spun me around and slammed me against it. He shot both arms up to block my exit, of course I was frustrated with his games and I guess he saw that, because he lowered his arms. I stood there with my arms crossed waiting for an explanation. He gave up his little ruse, explaining that the creature Madliene had been hunting on behalf of Babet is here, the bait, out there…long story short, we’re trapping an “animal” tonight. What led it here? Uh yeah, look around.”
None of it made sense, to Estella this was something Xavier was a part of, but Xavier being Xavier, it was too easy to assume he was even capable of concocting this without some sort of assistance. It could be the new arrivals, Alistair and Flannaghan were said to be roaming our city streets and I couldn’t discredit the fact that the recent arrival of an old friend of mine had been extremely disturbing. It has to go deeper, it’s just too easy. I caught Estella glaring at me as I pondered this new development. “So what’s her plan, then?”
“That’s the kicker, Cian….I don’t know.” Estella paced for a moment, and then stopped short. “What time is it?”
Being that there are no visible restraints of time on us vampires, there is still the dreaded “day” job, go figure. Estella was almost late for hers, and from the looks of it she was okay with that possibility. Why would she want to go out into the lion’s den, so to speak? The ravenous human females just yearning for their vampire fix, be it male or female. Tonight our species was the minority, and that thought sparked the illusive light bulb.
“Estella, why keep out the other vampires, the patrons?” She turned to me inquisitively, squinted her eyes and furrowing her brow, a stern line crossed her lips.
“Exactly. Why the “feast” when there are no feasters?” She grabbed her clutch bag, which of course matched her little outfit, and began for the door, “You coming?”
“Yeah, just taking in the view.” I smiled and gave her one more look over. She smiled and held the door for me to pass and once the latch closed I headed toward the haven doors to Morte’ Estella not far behind. Up the spiral stone staircase and out through the archway, the doors to Morte’ were a heavy sort for obvious reasons, there is way no way in hell a human could open them, not even Mr. Universe. The music changed from dance-techno sex to A Perfect Circle and at the moment, “The Outsider” played gloriously.
A swift push from both Estella and I the door flew open like we were making a grand entrance to a performance. The club had gained an enormous number, fortunately human males mingled in with the ravenous females, but as far as both Estella and I could tell no fellow vampires in attendance tonight.
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
I had to choose my words carefully, Keane was my brother and even though we had fallen out of touch over the years I had a great deal of respect and love for him. But the words came harshly and accusingly no matter how hard I tried to suppress it.
“Why are you here Keane?” My face a stone wall as I asked, shifting in my chair. He wove his fingers into each other in front of his chest, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair; his outlook indifferent as he searched for a response.
“She said you would do this and I told her there was no way my brother would question my arrival, but here you are. Just like she said.” His final sentence sounding hurt that I would find malice in anything Keane would do. “She really has you vexed, huh?” The question rattled around in my mind, which “she” is he referring to, Madliene or Babet?
I remain quiet as he had yet to answer my question. He shifted forward in his seat and lowered his hands, “I was here with the Icelandic clan, because I’ve been working with Linde for the past fifty years. After Madliene’s meeting with him she asked that I stop by the club before I left town. The Queen requested my presence Cian. I haven’t been briefed as to why, but upon my arrival I requested to meet with you before she had a chance to fill me with lies.” He laughed and leaned back in his chair.
I stared at him not understanding his meaning. I am aware of our Queen’s ways and occasionally all the facts are not present during her briefings. She will provide what she deems necessary information to obtain her goals, but she tends to fail in explaining the minor details that could cause immortal and mortal casualties alike.
I have witnessed that injustice too many times to count. With our Queen remarking, “you have to break a few eggs, don’t you.” Many vampires employed by the Queen have met their fate or final death due to her lack of attention to detail.
“I thought you of all people would respect that, that our relationship is thicker, stronger than her.” Keane said interrupting my thoughts, his sea blue eyes penetrating my hollow interior.
“I am sorry, brother. It’s been so long and I…..I am so different these days. I feel like I’ve lost myself along the way working for the Monarchy. Just…how much do you know?”
“Not much,” his hand went up and his shoulders shrugged, “ She did mentioned the situation regarding a local human and the picking off of the family, that New Orleans has had an influx of unregistered vampires. Also, she required another skilled “warrior””, his fingers making air quotes, “her term by the way, to work the bounties and on occasion opposite of you at the club. What I don’t know is why this human is so important to her, for one. Secondly who are the unregistered vamps and why are there so many. And third, why are you not able to fulfill your obligations to our most gracious Queen?” His tone became sarcastic, rolling his blue eyes and with his final words he folded his arms across his chest.
I took a deep breath and began to explain Babet, how she is related to us and our kind and why we are exposing ourselves to help her. I kept the fact that I had virtually stalked her for days prior to learning of her identity and her connection to Estella hidden from Keane. Keane knew Estella in passing and a brief history in her making, but that was all he knew of her. I explained the painstaking we had endured to keep the woman and her two children safe.
The word “children” invoked a reaction in Keane I hadn’t seen since we were in the priestess’ hut long ago in Scotland. A look of sympathy crossed his face and I knew that he would be a great ally for Babet. I continued that I wasn’t absolute regarding the influx, but I had suspicion that it might be Alistair and Flannaghan from the Queen’s New York days come to exact their revenge for her actions against them so many years ago. But I had no hard or current evidence to implicate them or any indication of their whereabouts. All of these elements add up to explain my recent absence at the club, but due to Keane’s intelligence he had already deduced that I was spending my off hours with Babet by more than just a request of the Queen. “Whose relation is the human?” Damn Keane, doesn’t miss a beat.
“Estella’s.” Then Keane said something that piqued interest in my own actions.
“Then let me ask you Cian, is it the Queen keeping you babysitting the human or are you doing it as a favor to Estella?” he said leering at me.
The answer to this question was a complicated one. If I was honest with him I would tell him that it is my own obsession that keeps me at Babet’s four nights a week but this information in Keane’s mind would be one of danger. He would advise me to stay away from the human, leaving Estella to clean up her own family’s mess but the hero in him would suggest otherwise. He continued to leer at me as I had done him when I thought he hadn’t been forthcoming with me. At that moment I decided to keep the answer simple and what would seem predictable in Keane’s mind.
“I do this because it was requested of me by our Queen.” The words sounded submissive in my head. “But the way I continue to protect her, is favor to Estella.” And I looked right at him waiting for a reply.
He gathered himself and took a deep breath.“You have definitely changed, brother.” His tone was one of disappointment as though I had purposely defied him in some great endeavor.
“Listen, I know you have a thing for Estella; the Queen did tell me that much, that she feels the obsession with Estella is overwhelming you, hindering your abilities.” His factual accusations enraged me.
I felt the need to defend myself, but I kept my calm and allowed him to continue. Keane had an outstanding ability to see realities for what they were and I was no different in his eyes. He continued rattling off the Queen’s comments until finally he stopped and retracted, “But I know you brother”, he became extremely serious; “I know that you cannot be this wound up in her politics that you can’t see what she is doing.” I sat back in my seat as he spoke, realizing how correct his assessment was.
I used to be less willing to please, I used to be one who scrutinizes, but what he didn’t know was the real reasons behind my actions, unless he did and he was waiting for me to confess. It was a true thing; I had spent too much time away from my brother. If I confessed the proverbial beans would be spilled and I couldn’t have Keane thinking any less of me than he did at this moment. I smiled at him and told him I wanted to introduce him to someone. He remarked, “This isn’t over, Cian.”
“Understood.” I stated factually. I stood from my seat and Keane’s eyes followed as I crossed the receiving room toward the front door.
“Where are you off to now, brother?” Keane’s voice echoed the cathedral ceiling as the door closed behind me. I wasn’t two steps from the door before it opened again, “Cian!?”
“Meet me at back at Morte’ in an hour.” I called back to him as I vanished into the thick evening air. I had to stop by my warehouse for a change of attire and possible weapon collection.
Inside Morte’ the deep bass of Deftones’ “Passenger” thumped through the unseen house speakers as the confidence of all in attendance was palpable; I received more than a few looks from the female humans in the club as I crested the threshold and took a big whiff of the bouquet before me.
And it occurred to me to be strange that human was the only scent I detected tonight and from the expression on Sophia’s face I was not as well informed as I should be. Being the only male vampire present I was propositioned by more than enough women looking for a thrill, the walk from the front door of Morte’ to the bar where Sophia stood nervously behind, was not all that long.
My declination to their offers appeared to be taken a multitude of ways. Some mortified by even the approach, others angered, I could also detect hints of jealousy, sadness and depression. Human emotion is not one of the aspects of my former mortality I long for, and until I became aware of Babet’s existence, I was free of them.
I reached the bar just as the music shifted from Deftones to Lords of Acid, “Rough Sex”; Sophia quickly disappeared behind it, before reappearing a second later. In her hand and around her fingers was a set of iron “brass” knuckles.
I nodded toward them as Sophia spoke, “Before you ask, we have a major problem”, she said as she adjusted her breasts to place a tiny dagger between them. She raised her head and met my gaze, her brown eyes flickering with hints of hazel, she was worried. Her thick black hair had been straightened and at the right angle a sheer of raven blue engulfed it. She placed her hair carefully not to reveal the handle of the dagger and her olive skin radiated beautifully through her black lace tunic, whose flared sleeves concealed the iron knuckles. She stepped out from the bar to escort me to the haven doors.
Her platform heels clicking across the floor attracting a little more attention than anticipated and the closer we came to the doors a human mob began to descend; Sophia’s eyes were more intense than I have ever seen them, including her birth into darkness. I clutched my arm around her waist and flashed through the haven doors, slamming them behind us. I turned to face the young vampire, clasping my hands to both her shoulders, “Sophia, calm.”
Her eyes stared directly into mine; intensifying once more before sullying slowly back to a darker hazel. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. I knew that the smell was overwhelming and she must have some order from the Queen to remain from the feed, but for a younger vampire that is a tall order. Sophia hasn’t had enough time nor the opportunity to hone such skills, being a speck under the Queen’s thumb is tiring and lacks education.
The Queen has been making ones like Sophia for centuries. She will break free like all the others, but it takes cunning among age and anger. For the time being Sophia is a slave to the Queen. I knew that the attempt to probe Sophia for knowledge would be futile, she knew this as well and said, “Go to Estella.”
Nodding in the direction of Estella’s haven door, the inclination that she wasn’t going to explain tonight’s strange happenings, was apparent. Making my way down the stone corridor toward Estella’s door I stopped short just before entering, staring at the beautifully carved barrier between me and my once obsession.
Before I had a chance to reach for the handle, the door flew open, Estella had been preparing for tonight and had just come from a warm bath. I could feel the heat from the water radiate off her cold skin and smell the luxuriousness of her bath salts. Her hair piled on top of her head in what looked like chopsticks sticking out of the sides. She waved her hand to invite me in and once I returned my gaze to her face, I could see she was slightly perturbed by my lack of focus.
I apologized and entered her chamber, “Sorry.”
“No problem, I understand better tha….” She trailed off, as the sentiment would of course be lost on me, “sit.” She said as she readjusted her wrap, turning from me to go behind the dressing screen in the corner of her chamber cell. “So, as I am sure you’ve heard, we are on high alert tonight.”
“Yes, I gathered that from Sophia’s demeanor.”
“Before I go into that, you should know, I spoke with Babet, she is taking the kids to dinner and a movie tonight, I told her to touch base with me when the movie was over...” she trailed off to administer some piece of clothing and I could make out the voluptuous silhouette her body made as she removed the sticks from her hair, cascading down her back hitting the base of her spine as it fell. She bent down putting her feet inside of a pair of shorts, pulling them up securing the suspenders accompanying them, arcing her back as she did up the buttons until she suddenly stopped, craning her head around the screen, “Figures” she said as she rolled her eyes at me.
“I am still a man, Estella.” I explained sarcastically before rising from my seat.
“Yes.” Estella being Estella, wrapped her leg around the edge of the dressing screen, her foot encased in a blue and white platform heel resembling a child’s saddle shoe, pointed so that her toe graced the floor slightly, she placed the foot and then spun the rest of her body out from the dressing screen, in true stripper fashion and I couldn’t help but smile slyly before laughing heartily as she continued.
The shorts were high waist and looked like Navy sailor pants. Estella was going for a 1940’s look tonight. While behind the screen she had pinned her hair back on both sides and it had formed tight curls while up. She was gloriously beautiful as she always was, and asked her how she got to be so. She walked over to me, placing her hand on my chest.
“Thank you Cian, I can always count on you.” Her smile through bright red lips was intoxicating.
“Don’t forget it, ok?” I said brushing the back of my hand against her face.
“So?” We stood looking at each other for a moment, when Estella regained her train of thought. I turned to take my seat again.
“Sorry, just….thinking. So yes, earlier today I awoke to find Morte’ blazing with mortal life, even the halls of the haven were permeated with the scent of human blood. I opened my door to see why Madliene was already allowing patrons, when it slammed closed before me.” She sat next to me on the 18th century tufted couch. “Xavier had slipped into my chamber before the door closed and before I knew it he was between me and the door, he then spun me around and slammed me against it. He shot both arms up to block my exit, of course I was frustrated with his games and I guess he saw that, because he lowered his arms. I stood there with my arms crossed waiting for an explanation. He gave up his little ruse, explaining that the creature Madliene had been hunting on behalf of Babet is here, the bait, out there…long story short, we’re trapping an “animal” tonight. What led it here? Uh yeah, look around.”
None of it made sense, to Estella this was something Xavier was a part of, but Xavier being Xavier, it was too easy to assume he was even capable of concocting this without some sort of assistance. It could be the new arrivals, Alistair and Flannaghan were said to be roaming our city streets and I couldn’t discredit the fact that the recent arrival of an old friend of mine had been extremely disturbing. It has to go deeper, it’s just too easy. I caught Estella glaring at me as I pondered this new development. “So what’s her plan, then?”
“That’s the kicker, Cian….I don’t know.” Estella paced for a moment, and then stopped short. “What time is it?”
Being that there are no visible restraints of time on us vampires, there is still the dreaded “day” job, go figure. Estella was almost late for hers, and from the looks of it she was okay with that possibility. Why would she want to go out into the lion’s den, so to speak? The ravenous human females just yearning for their vampire fix, be it male or female. Tonight our species was the minority, and that thought sparked the illusive light bulb.
“Estella, why keep out the other vampires, the patrons?” She turned to me inquisitively, squinted her eyes and furrowing her brow, a stern line crossed her lips.
“Exactly. Why the “feast” when there are no feasters?” She grabbed her clutch bag, which of course matched her little outfit, and began for the door, “You coming?”
“Yeah, just taking in the view.” I smiled and gave her one more look over. She smiled and held the door for me to pass and once the latch closed I headed toward the haven doors to Morte’ Estella not far behind. Up the spiral stone staircase and out through the archway, the doors to Morte’ were a heavy sort for obvious reasons, there is way no way in hell a human could open them, not even Mr. Universe. The music changed from dance-techno sex to A Perfect Circle and at the moment, “The Outsider” played gloriously.
A swift push from both Estella and I the door flew open like we were making a grand entrance to a performance. The club had gained an enormous number, fortunately human males mingled in with the ravenous females, but as far as both Estella and I could tell no fellow vampires in attendance tonight.
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
March 27, 2014
INTERVIEWING AUTHORS...
INTERVIEWING AUTHORS
Shannon Simmons; Author of the Howling Heart series!!!
Q: What are you working on?
A: I'm currently working on Book Three of the Howling Heart Series.
Q: How does your work differ from others of the same genre?
A: My books are more grit and less romantic fluff.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: I live in a soccer-mom world; my dark side has so break free somewhere. I love the supernatural and finding a way to link it to and twist all the stories we have been told through time.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: I simply sit, turn on my music and just start writing. I don't take notes or get ahead of myself. The story simply comes to me. Once I get to a certain point, I go back and make sure it flows smoothly....and then keep writing until I've pissed off someone and create a great place to pick up in the next book. :)
**Shannon’s books can be found…
http://www.amazon.com/Silverbow-Howli...
http://www.amazon.com/Animal-Control-...
Regina Puckett; Author of the Warren Series!!!
Q: What are you working on?
A: I’m editing book 3 in my Warren Series.
What the Heart Knows focuses on the romance between Suzette’s younger sister, Emily, and Suzette’s closet friend, Bill Fields.
Emily has been love with Bill since she was sixteen, but now she’s all grown up and a physician. Since Bill has been in and out of her life since he and Suzette became friends in the 1st grade, Emily doesn’t think Bill will ever see her as anything other than his
best friend’s kid sister. What she doesn’t know is he is in love with her too.
When Suzette calls Bill asking for his help, he gladly agrees to ask Emily out to stay at his farm/art studio for two weeks. Now that Bill and Emily have the time and opportunity to see what the other is feeling, they also have to deal with a ruthless foe who is stalking her. Love is possible but will they be able to overcome all of their obstacles and uncertainties to accept its gift?
Q: How does your work differ from others of the same genre?
A: Since I write several different genres, this might be a complicated answer.
When I write a romance, I focus on the story and let the romance happen as the story unfolds. In Concealed in My Heart, my two main characters don’t fall in love until near the end of the book. I wanted to develop the story so when the time came for them to finally see each other as something more than friends, the reader really cared that David and Charity had found each other. The road to love is bumpy.
When I write horror, I like writing about everyday people interacting in everyday situations. To me, the most horrifying things happen when we’re not expecting it. I know, whenever I watch the news, I’m always amazed at just how evil some people can be.
With my children’s books, I enjoy writing about the things that are important to us as adults and to our children. I hope they are enjoyed by each age group and are able to stand up to the test of time.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: I write the daydream that refuses to go away until it’s down on paper.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: When I first began writing, I listened to how other people went about plotting and planning. That observation led me to believe I had to have an outline before I could even begin. I tried it their way for my first two books, but what I discovered was that process didn’t work for me. I never stuck to the outline and by chapter 5 my story had taken on a life all of its own. So now, I mentally plot and plan and have a loose concept about the how my story will play out. Of course, it still veers off in a completely different direction, but now I’m not quite as upset about that because I didn’t wasted a lot of time working on something I never used.
**Regina’s books can be found…
http://www.amazon.com/Regina-Puckett/...
LaRae Parry
LaRae Parry; Author of the The Danish Pastry and Journal of a Crazy Lady!!!
Q: What are you working on?
A: Right now I’m working on two books . . . something I don’t think you should ever do. But . . . hey . . . when do I ever follow the rules?
The Ghost in Room 3327 is a sequel to The Danish Pastry. I know what I want to write. I’ve done the research because the ghost that I write about is an actual ghost who haunts the famous Hotel Del Coronado. The Ghost in Room 3327 is the narrator. She tells her side of the story, which is very interesting.
The other book I’m working on is, “Lost in Bizarre-O World.” It is in the Crazy Lady journal form since it is about all the trouble I’ve gotten myself into on the Internet. Sadly, it’s funny.
Q: How does your work differ from others of the same genre?
A: I don’t think there is a genre for me. I think I’m the first crazy person to write romance, comedy, paranormal, and memoirs. If anyone can think of a genre for me, I’d appreciate it.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: Honestly . . . I write the stories that are living in my mind. Some of them are ones I have actually experienced, and the others are the ones that entertain me when I’m bored.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: I always carry a notebook with me. I never know when my brain is going to decide to work.
First, I write a draft. I then type my draft on the computer. Every time, the written draft comes out different when I type it. I make a copy of the draft and my husband and I read through it. I make the necessary corrections on the computer, then we read it again, and again, and again until I have the stories just the way I want them.
Then I get it published and see that I should have read through my writing one more time. CRUD.
LaRae's books can be found...
The Danish Pastry http://www.amazon.com/Danish-Pastry-L...
The Danish Pastry
Journal of a Crazy Lady
Augusta Fern; Author of the Morte’ Series!!!
Q: What are you working on?
A: I am currently working on the third and final installment of my vampire series, Morte'. I do have a working title, but I choose to keep that close to the chest.
Q: How does my work differ from others of the same genre?
A: My character comes from such a primitive time, I like to think that his past, (fictional) footprint on history and how it's shaped him stands out from the rest.
Q: Why do I write what I do?
A: I've been in awe of the fictional pale immortals since I was young, 10 to be precise. After engrossing myself in any and all vampire literature and film over the years I wanted to write my own story. The premise of course is fiction, but the back story of my characters isn't far from personal truth. Friends, Family, long lost acquaintances all have a place in my stories. I enjoy the calls from friends and family asking if this or that character is them.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A I have my laptop set up in front of my big window, so first I open the blinds and let the day in. From there I find where I left off (as all my stories are hand written prior to typing) and proceed. I do have a little one at home, and inspiration and a distraction but more of an inspiration than the distraction. Some days he sits in my lap while I write or read aloud as I'm editing.
**Augusta’s books can be found…
http://www.amazon.com/Augusta-Fern/e/...
Shannon Simmons; Author of the Howling Heart series!!!
Q: What are you working on?
A: I'm currently working on Book Three of the Howling Heart Series.
Q: How does your work differ from others of the same genre?
A: My books are more grit and less romantic fluff.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: I live in a soccer-mom world; my dark side has so break free somewhere. I love the supernatural and finding a way to link it to and twist all the stories we have been told through time.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: I simply sit, turn on my music and just start writing. I don't take notes or get ahead of myself. The story simply comes to me. Once I get to a certain point, I go back and make sure it flows smoothly....and then keep writing until I've pissed off someone and create a great place to pick up in the next book. :)
**Shannon’s books can be found…
http://www.amazon.com/Silverbow-Howli...
http://www.amazon.com/Animal-Control-...
Regina Puckett; Author of the Warren Series!!!
Q: What are you working on?
A: I’m editing book 3 in my Warren Series.
What the Heart Knows focuses on the romance between Suzette’s younger sister, Emily, and Suzette’s closet friend, Bill Fields.
Emily has been love with Bill since she was sixteen, but now she’s all grown up and a physician. Since Bill has been in and out of her life since he and Suzette became friends in the 1st grade, Emily doesn’t think Bill will ever see her as anything other than his
best friend’s kid sister. What she doesn’t know is he is in love with her too.
When Suzette calls Bill asking for his help, he gladly agrees to ask Emily out to stay at his farm/art studio for two weeks. Now that Bill and Emily have the time and opportunity to see what the other is feeling, they also have to deal with a ruthless foe who is stalking her. Love is possible but will they be able to overcome all of their obstacles and uncertainties to accept its gift?
Q: How does your work differ from others of the same genre?
A: Since I write several different genres, this might be a complicated answer.
When I write a romance, I focus on the story and let the romance happen as the story unfolds. In Concealed in My Heart, my two main characters don’t fall in love until near the end of the book. I wanted to develop the story so when the time came for them to finally see each other as something more than friends, the reader really cared that David and Charity had found each other. The road to love is bumpy.
When I write horror, I like writing about everyday people interacting in everyday situations. To me, the most horrifying things happen when we’re not expecting it. I know, whenever I watch the news, I’m always amazed at just how evil some people can be.
With my children’s books, I enjoy writing about the things that are important to us as adults and to our children. I hope they are enjoyed by each age group and are able to stand up to the test of time.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: I write the daydream that refuses to go away until it’s down on paper.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: When I first began writing, I listened to how other people went about plotting and planning. That observation led me to believe I had to have an outline before I could even begin. I tried it their way for my first two books, but what I discovered was that process didn’t work for me. I never stuck to the outline and by chapter 5 my story had taken on a life all of its own. So now, I mentally plot and plan and have a loose concept about the how my story will play out. Of course, it still veers off in a completely different direction, but now I’m not quite as upset about that because I didn’t wasted a lot of time working on something I never used.
**Regina’s books can be found…
http://www.amazon.com/Regina-Puckett/...
LaRae Parry
LaRae Parry; Author of the The Danish Pastry and Journal of a Crazy Lady!!!
Q: What are you working on?
A: Right now I’m working on two books . . . something I don’t think you should ever do. But . . . hey . . . when do I ever follow the rules?
The Ghost in Room 3327 is a sequel to The Danish Pastry. I know what I want to write. I’ve done the research because the ghost that I write about is an actual ghost who haunts the famous Hotel Del Coronado. The Ghost in Room 3327 is the narrator. She tells her side of the story, which is very interesting.
The other book I’m working on is, “Lost in Bizarre-O World.” It is in the Crazy Lady journal form since it is about all the trouble I’ve gotten myself into on the Internet. Sadly, it’s funny.
Q: How does your work differ from others of the same genre?
A: I don’t think there is a genre for me. I think I’m the first crazy person to write romance, comedy, paranormal, and memoirs. If anyone can think of a genre for me, I’d appreciate it.
Q: Why do you write what you do?
A: Honestly . . . I write the stories that are living in my mind. Some of them are ones I have actually experienced, and the others are the ones that entertain me when I’m bored.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A: I always carry a notebook with me. I never know when my brain is going to decide to work.
First, I write a draft. I then type my draft on the computer. Every time, the written draft comes out different when I type it. I make a copy of the draft and my husband and I read through it. I make the necessary corrections on the computer, then we read it again, and again, and again until I have the stories just the way I want them.
Then I get it published and see that I should have read through my writing one more time. CRUD.
LaRae's books can be found...
The Danish Pastry http://www.amazon.com/Danish-Pastry-L...
The Danish Pastry
Journal of a Crazy Lady
Augusta Fern; Author of the Morte’ Series!!!
Q: What are you working on?
A: I am currently working on the third and final installment of my vampire series, Morte'. I do have a working title, but I choose to keep that close to the chest.
Q: How does my work differ from others of the same genre?
A: My character comes from such a primitive time, I like to think that his past, (fictional) footprint on history and how it's shaped him stands out from the rest.
Q: Why do I write what I do?
A: I've been in awe of the fictional pale immortals since I was young, 10 to be precise. After engrossing myself in any and all vampire literature and film over the years I wanted to write my own story. The premise of course is fiction, but the back story of my characters isn't far from personal truth. Friends, Family, long lost acquaintances all have a place in my stories. I enjoy the calls from friends and family asking if this or that character is them.
Q: How does your writing process work?
A I have my laptop set up in front of my big window, so first I open the blinds and let the day in. From there I find where I left off (as all my stories are hand written prior to typing) and proceed. I do have a little one at home, and inspiration and a distraction but more of an inspiration than the distraction. Some days he sits in my lap while I write or read aloud as I'm editing.
**Augusta’s books can be found…
http://www.amazon.com/Augusta-Fern/e/...
March 23, 2014
Well, look what the Queen dragged in...
For the two weeks, Estella and I keep guard over Babet, Scarlet and Henri at Audubon there is little to no advancement or declination in the family’s situation. We are either on rotating shifts or allowed mutual time with the young mother. Estella still had her obligations to the Queen, but I had gained exclusivity with Babet. I had been taken off collecting bounties until this was resolved.
It had been enlightening, refreshing and revelatory to spend quality time with Babet who seemed to have newfound peace, but every good must come to an end and I was in house the night she got a call from a Cruise Line business office. The children were asleep upstairs and silently I listened while she was informed of her mother’s disappearance while in Cozumel, Mexico.
Mrs. Bridgette Lancaster Beauregard had not returned to the ship from her dinner in the southern city the night before. Babet sat quietly sobbing with her hand to her mouth staring at the floor while the representative insensitively delivered the blow. In that moment all the reassuring conversations and hope that maybe this was coming to a close was diminished in her eyes. Intense thoughts raced behind those eyes, her life was still in peril, and the hands of whatever was after her had stretched its claws to her mother in another country. She sat, fixated on the work of art hanging high on the wall in front of her, and then she quickly looked to me.
“I just….don’t understand….I thought….I just have come so far and feel I have no more tears to cry” But her face revealed a different story and baubles of tears began to trickle down from her eyelid to her cheek. She stood up but I grabbed her before she could get far. I pressed her to my chest until the tension in her body ease into me and I felt her hands lightly grasp the lower part of my back.
I rested my chin on her head and my body began to tense as her scent filled me. I was determined not to give into my deepest, darkest desires; I just wanted to comfort her, as I had wanted to during all the early morning conversations between us.
I wanted to be the support she needed, without the complications of our natures. We stood embraced momentarily until I felt her pull slightly from me. I lifted my head to look down at her. Babet, stared into my eyes and this beautiful creature, so fragile, so human and so sad, made my cold heart, burn and ache. I wiped the tears from her eyes and brushed the hair back from her face, the tiny strands glued to it by her already dried tears.
“To cry”, I said and positioned my hands securely around her face, staring directly into her, “is to know you’re alive.” I hold her delicately before lowering my hands. She sniffed a couple of times before standing on her toes, closed her eyes and lifted herself to meet my face. She kissed me gently, her mouth so warm and soft, like two hot rose petals closing in on my lips. She kissed me again in this way and I felt her body flush with warmth, she then began to lower herself from her heightened status.
I opened my eyes expectantly as she landed flat on the floor, but before she could pull completely out of my arms I brought her back to me, leaned down and kissed her in return. My large hands encased her hair and the fragrance of her radiated from it. I didn’t linger in the kiss as I felt it was more of a comfort to her than an invitation for anything other than that, but I desperately wanted her. Her frailty enchanted me and challenged me. Before I could wrap my mind around what was happening between us she was back up to my level, her eyes closed and her mouth engulfed mine, her tongue swimming happily against mine.
I clasped my hands around her face, the warm silky texture of her skin gliding over my fingertips. I rounded my hand to her neck and pulled her closer, the nape an inferno. I pulled away from her, my mouth hung open and my teeth ran out, I tilted my head to take in Babet’s response. She stood staring at me panting and a slight smile came across her face. She licked her lips, swallowed and asked, “Can I?” Her hand reached up to touch my prominent teeth.
I didn’t move and her delicate little fingers stroked the inside and then outside of my extended canines. Our exchange was interrupted by the faint sound of cooing. Like lightning Babet turned her attention to the sounds, waiting to see if the baby continued. Henri must have been dreaming and Babet turned back to face me. The aura emitting from her changed from desire to embarrassment and she nervously laughed, then took a deep breath and blew out the air from her lungs, as if extinguishing a candle. My teeth retracted and I broke the silence, “I’m sorry.” I said.
Although I knew exactly what was overtaking the sensibility I had mastered during the centuries. I still didn’t want to leave her side. I wanted to never let her out of my sight, like the first night I saw her, keep her protected. I am also aware that subconsciously I wanted her for more selfish reasons than not. My compulsion was more than the simple vampire yearning. I felt a kinship to this woman, I could relate to her loss in her short years. She was like me, aside from her children, she was ultimately alone. But she had not lost these mortal ties naturally and I had to get beyond my own selfishness. I shifted back to face her once again, and her eyes, indifferent.
“They’re, “and she faltered in her speech and for a moment I was fearful that we were back to square one. But she surprises me constantly and tonight was no different, “So, sharp.” And she smiled, her own teeth showing a little more. I couldn’t help but return the gesture. For the remainder of the night I hold her, until the ever presence of dawn began to crest the Earth that would soon reach the tiny corner Babet and I had laid out for ourselves, I took my leave of her once it was apparent that she would be safe for the brief moments it would take to return to my haven.
The following evening I was to attend the Queen in Estella’s absence. I by no means would serve drinks and flit around the floor, but my existence at her side is a requirement I grew less and less obliged to. For some time I hungered for release from the Queen’s employment and the closer I would get to obtaining it, she drew me back to her side. Be it intrigue of what was at the time unknown to me. Once my curiosity fulfilled, I was instantly regretful of my decision. Her power is undeniable. Human and Vampire, we are all possessed by her. One look in her eyes and your addicted to her; our Queen.
My arrival to Morte is as it always is a quietly stealthy entry into the sacrificial chamber, positioning myself where I could observe the patronage and the Queen. Her grand arrival had already commenced and I greeted her, standing to her left as she nodded and returned her gaze to the floor below her throne of a balcony. She spoke directly at me but did not make my eyes.
“We have a guest Cian, someone I think you’ll recognize.”
Appearing at the Queen’s right shoulder stood my brother Keane. His sandy blonde hair a tousled mess. Stopping at his shoulders, long rogue strands hung in front of his piercing blue eyes. Keane. His attire much different from mine, my once brother in arms stood before me in an ebony Armani suit and striking tie; the garnet and crimson paisley design screaming from behind the prison of his fitted vest. His hands overlapped one another in front of him.
As if waiting for me to speak, he dropped his hands and began to come toward me. “Still an old hard stone, huh Cian?” the surprise rising in his voice.
I kept my guard and when he was close enough I smirked and said, “Old Dogs, Keane. Can’t teach us a thing.” We both laughed heartily and I grabbed by brother and brought him to me, he slapped my back and we separated.
“Good to see you my brother, it has been too long.” He remarked turning his finger at me.
I nodded, “Aye”, and after the moment of reunited bliss passed I became suspicious of Keane’s arrival into New Orleans. “What brings you to the city?”
“Ah, a most gracious invitation from her majesty brings me to your fair metropolis.” He says and while he does he bows courteously toward the Queen and in return she nods in his direction with a faint smile. I witness this exchange and before returning her concentration to her business she flashes me a glance that implies to me her pleasure in Keane. I resumed my position within the club, while Keane and Madliene discussed things only to themselves.
Once the festivities for the evening had officially died I excused myself from the Queen. With not only the urgency of appetite but a great longing to retreat from Keane, I knew he sensed my pace to be too hasty for my normality. Because no matter how long we have been apart, Keane knows me better than I know myself. He is someone I have known since childhood and we have bonded in more ways than any real or biological brothers could. We are kindred spirits he and I.
“Where you off to brother?” The echo of his baritone is uncanny in my head. I turn and stare for mere seconds, but in our world seconds are lifetimes and finally I tilt my head, motioning him to follow. He bows graciously to the Queen, taking her hand to kiss the back of it.
“If you will excuse me?” She of course gives her consent and Keane set out to join me at my flank, his original position when we were lads. We exit the Club through the back corridor.
He quickens his pace slightly to meet mine and we are striding together once again, exact footsteps, a single being with four legs clomping through the streets.
“Fed for the night?” I ask and in my peripheral I see a glint of bright white shine clearly against the night’s sky, Keane’s smile a definite sight for my sore eyes.
Keane and I fed; I, from a blood bag I obtained, while Keane took to the street to search out his perfect meal. By the time he returned to the townhouse procured for his stay and sat the statuesque human female on one of the overstuffed chairs residing in the corner of the large receiving room, I had long been satisfied. She was, of course, beautiful. The girl’s black hair is short, the bob haircut resembling that of a wig and most likely is. Her face is overly made up and the black around her ice blue eyes looks like fireplace soot, making the blue stand out that much more.
I continue to observe her calm behavior, more and more humans were becoming less and less wary of being in the presence of vampires and from the girl’s demeanor she had been in our type of company, plenty. From what I could see of her body, she bared no sign of being fed upon, but once she removed the jacket over her mini-dress it was apparent that she had spent more time with our kind than I had assumed. Her arms from shoulder to wrist, inside and out are marked, some wounds old, some new and scars on top of scars. She readjusted her seat, folded her hands in her lap and looked directly into my eyes, unafraid of whatever powers she thought me to possess.
“Name’s Shi, what’s yours?” she asked engaging me in conversation, while crossing her legs. Her face is pleasant and inviting.
“Cian.” My tone less than inviting.
“Nice, got a brother Abel?” she said and laughed at her own cleverness.
I didn’t reciprocate the feeling and she discontinued her jest, rolling her eyes and looking around the room for Keane’s location. But I could tell she was becoming uneasy sitting across from me and my seriousness. I didn’t begrudge Keane his preferences, he had his lifestyle and I chose mine, but I can honestly say I didn’t like conversing with someone who would soon cease to be. Keane reentered the great room and Shi’s eyes lit up.
Keane is a handsome vampire, like we all are. The man has eyes so intense they bore into your very soul. It’s his gift, soul searching, a vampire who can read the souls of others, humans and vampire alike. Very few soul searchers survive in our community. Vampires aren’t keen on the idea of another being able to see though them and the tales of other’s souls can break and wear down a reader.
The eyes of a soul searcher hold a kind of gentleness, I think of it as a catalyst for the reader, a welcoming feature allowing them to proceed; this all commences without the human or vampire’s knowledge and it’s very interesting to watch. This look has been described in our histories accounts as “puppy-dog eyes”.
Keane glides over to the girl, peering down and into Shi’s eyes. I instantly felt her body relax as he offered his hand, she takes it and is lifted her from her seat. Keane led her toward the spiral staircase central in the townhouse, I watch as he weightlessly slithers up guiding Shi. Her high heels clump up one and then two steps. Then the clopping turned into a whooshing sound as Keane whisked the girl up, my eyes can’t help but follow their path.
Just before crossing the threshold to the bedroom, he glances down the at me, smiles and I could see his teeth had run completely out. I couldn’t help but smirk and shake my head at him.
Keane emerged from the room, easily and quietly closing the door, he had not extinguished Shi’s life and was allowing the stranger to slumber in his temporary haven. I had to admit I wasn’t surprised, Keane had always been attentive; not only in battle but even after the wars, he never let the grief consume him so it showed to his younger siblings and his mother. His father, of course always knew what his son had endured and seen.
“She’ll be here for a day or so.” He said as he reached the bottom of the staircase. His suit slightly disheveled, the jacket and ornate tie were gone and the collar of his white dress shirt hung open. Since his shirt was still tucked into his pants I knew he had not had sex with the girl, but being as she would be in his haven for more than the night, it was definitely in his plans to do so. “I kinda like her, what do you think Cian?”
I nodded and stood up from my seat, beginning to feel that Keane’s presence was more than a simple visit to the Queen, be it by her request or not. “Now that you’re fed, I have a few questions for you, if I may, of course?” I said as he took Shi’s former seat.
His face turned from confused to inquisitive in a matter of seconds, “Sure Cian, Spanish Inquisition?”
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
It had been enlightening, refreshing and revelatory to spend quality time with Babet who seemed to have newfound peace, but every good must come to an end and I was in house the night she got a call from a Cruise Line business office. The children were asleep upstairs and silently I listened while she was informed of her mother’s disappearance while in Cozumel, Mexico.
Mrs. Bridgette Lancaster Beauregard had not returned to the ship from her dinner in the southern city the night before. Babet sat quietly sobbing with her hand to her mouth staring at the floor while the representative insensitively delivered the blow. In that moment all the reassuring conversations and hope that maybe this was coming to a close was diminished in her eyes. Intense thoughts raced behind those eyes, her life was still in peril, and the hands of whatever was after her had stretched its claws to her mother in another country. She sat, fixated on the work of art hanging high on the wall in front of her, and then she quickly looked to me.
“I just….don’t understand….I thought….I just have come so far and feel I have no more tears to cry” But her face revealed a different story and baubles of tears began to trickle down from her eyelid to her cheek. She stood up but I grabbed her before she could get far. I pressed her to my chest until the tension in her body ease into me and I felt her hands lightly grasp the lower part of my back.
I rested my chin on her head and my body began to tense as her scent filled me. I was determined not to give into my deepest, darkest desires; I just wanted to comfort her, as I had wanted to during all the early morning conversations between us.
I wanted to be the support she needed, without the complications of our natures. We stood embraced momentarily until I felt her pull slightly from me. I lifted my head to look down at her. Babet, stared into my eyes and this beautiful creature, so fragile, so human and so sad, made my cold heart, burn and ache. I wiped the tears from her eyes and brushed the hair back from her face, the tiny strands glued to it by her already dried tears.
“To cry”, I said and positioned my hands securely around her face, staring directly into her, “is to know you’re alive.” I hold her delicately before lowering my hands. She sniffed a couple of times before standing on her toes, closed her eyes and lifted herself to meet my face. She kissed me gently, her mouth so warm and soft, like two hot rose petals closing in on my lips. She kissed me again in this way and I felt her body flush with warmth, she then began to lower herself from her heightened status.
I opened my eyes expectantly as she landed flat on the floor, but before she could pull completely out of my arms I brought her back to me, leaned down and kissed her in return. My large hands encased her hair and the fragrance of her radiated from it. I didn’t linger in the kiss as I felt it was more of a comfort to her than an invitation for anything other than that, but I desperately wanted her. Her frailty enchanted me and challenged me. Before I could wrap my mind around what was happening between us she was back up to my level, her eyes closed and her mouth engulfed mine, her tongue swimming happily against mine.
I clasped my hands around her face, the warm silky texture of her skin gliding over my fingertips. I rounded my hand to her neck and pulled her closer, the nape an inferno. I pulled away from her, my mouth hung open and my teeth ran out, I tilted my head to take in Babet’s response. She stood staring at me panting and a slight smile came across her face. She licked her lips, swallowed and asked, “Can I?” Her hand reached up to touch my prominent teeth.
I didn’t move and her delicate little fingers stroked the inside and then outside of my extended canines. Our exchange was interrupted by the faint sound of cooing. Like lightning Babet turned her attention to the sounds, waiting to see if the baby continued. Henri must have been dreaming and Babet turned back to face me. The aura emitting from her changed from desire to embarrassment and she nervously laughed, then took a deep breath and blew out the air from her lungs, as if extinguishing a candle. My teeth retracted and I broke the silence, “I’m sorry.” I said.
Although I knew exactly what was overtaking the sensibility I had mastered during the centuries. I still didn’t want to leave her side. I wanted to never let her out of my sight, like the first night I saw her, keep her protected. I am also aware that subconsciously I wanted her for more selfish reasons than not. My compulsion was more than the simple vampire yearning. I felt a kinship to this woman, I could relate to her loss in her short years. She was like me, aside from her children, she was ultimately alone. But she had not lost these mortal ties naturally and I had to get beyond my own selfishness. I shifted back to face her once again, and her eyes, indifferent.
“They’re, “and she faltered in her speech and for a moment I was fearful that we were back to square one. But she surprises me constantly and tonight was no different, “So, sharp.” And she smiled, her own teeth showing a little more. I couldn’t help but return the gesture. For the remainder of the night I hold her, until the ever presence of dawn began to crest the Earth that would soon reach the tiny corner Babet and I had laid out for ourselves, I took my leave of her once it was apparent that she would be safe for the brief moments it would take to return to my haven.
The following evening I was to attend the Queen in Estella’s absence. I by no means would serve drinks and flit around the floor, but my existence at her side is a requirement I grew less and less obliged to. For some time I hungered for release from the Queen’s employment and the closer I would get to obtaining it, she drew me back to her side. Be it intrigue of what was at the time unknown to me. Once my curiosity fulfilled, I was instantly regretful of my decision. Her power is undeniable. Human and Vampire, we are all possessed by her. One look in her eyes and your addicted to her; our Queen.
My arrival to Morte is as it always is a quietly stealthy entry into the sacrificial chamber, positioning myself where I could observe the patronage and the Queen. Her grand arrival had already commenced and I greeted her, standing to her left as she nodded and returned her gaze to the floor below her throne of a balcony. She spoke directly at me but did not make my eyes.
“We have a guest Cian, someone I think you’ll recognize.”
Appearing at the Queen’s right shoulder stood my brother Keane. His sandy blonde hair a tousled mess. Stopping at his shoulders, long rogue strands hung in front of his piercing blue eyes. Keane. His attire much different from mine, my once brother in arms stood before me in an ebony Armani suit and striking tie; the garnet and crimson paisley design screaming from behind the prison of his fitted vest. His hands overlapped one another in front of him.
As if waiting for me to speak, he dropped his hands and began to come toward me. “Still an old hard stone, huh Cian?” the surprise rising in his voice.
I kept my guard and when he was close enough I smirked and said, “Old Dogs, Keane. Can’t teach us a thing.” We both laughed heartily and I grabbed by brother and brought him to me, he slapped my back and we separated.
“Good to see you my brother, it has been too long.” He remarked turning his finger at me.
I nodded, “Aye”, and after the moment of reunited bliss passed I became suspicious of Keane’s arrival into New Orleans. “What brings you to the city?”
“Ah, a most gracious invitation from her majesty brings me to your fair metropolis.” He says and while he does he bows courteously toward the Queen and in return she nods in his direction with a faint smile. I witness this exchange and before returning her concentration to her business she flashes me a glance that implies to me her pleasure in Keane. I resumed my position within the club, while Keane and Madliene discussed things only to themselves.
Once the festivities for the evening had officially died I excused myself from the Queen. With not only the urgency of appetite but a great longing to retreat from Keane, I knew he sensed my pace to be too hasty for my normality. Because no matter how long we have been apart, Keane knows me better than I know myself. He is someone I have known since childhood and we have bonded in more ways than any real or biological brothers could. We are kindred spirits he and I.
“Where you off to brother?” The echo of his baritone is uncanny in my head. I turn and stare for mere seconds, but in our world seconds are lifetimes and finally I tilt my head, motioning him to follow. He bows graciously to the Queen, taking her hand to kiss the back of it.
“If you will excuse me?” She of course gives her consent and Keane set out to join me at my flank, his original position when we were lads. We exit the Club through the back corridor.
He quickens his pace slightly to meet mine and we are striding together once again, exact footsteps, a single being with four legs clomping through the streets.
“Fed for the night?” I ask and in my peripheral I see a glint of bright white shine clearly against the night’s sky, Keane’s smile a definite sight for my sore eyes.
Keane and I fed; I, from a blood bag I obtained, while Keane took to the street to search out his perfect meal. By the time he returned to the townhouse procured for his stay and sat the statuesque human female on one of the overstuffed chairs residing in the corner of the large receiving room, I had long been satisfied. She was, of course, beautiful. The girl’s black hair is short, the bob haircut resembling that of a wig and most likely is. Her face is overly made up and the black around her ice blue eyes looks like fireplace soot, making the blue stand out that much more.
I continue to observe her calm behavior, more and more humans were becoming less and less wary of being in the presence of vampires and from the girl’s demeanor she had been in our type of company, plenty. From what I could see of her body, she bared no sign of being fed upon, but once she removed the jacket over her mini-dress it was apparent that she had spent more time with our kind than I had assumed. Her arms from shoulder to wrist, inside and out are marked, some wounds old, some new and scars on top of scars. She readjusted her seat, folded her hands in her lap and looked directly into my eyes, unafraid of whatever powers she thought me to possess.
“Name’s Shi, what’s yours?” she asked engaging me in conversation, while crossing her legs. Her face is pleasant and inviting.
“Cian.” My tone less than inviting.
“Nice, got a brother Abel?” she said and laughed at her own cleverness.
I didn’t reciprocate the feeling and she discontinued her jest, rolling her eyes and looking around the room for Keane’s location. But I could tell she was becoming uneasy sitting across from me and my seriousness. I didn’t begrudge Keane his preferences, he had his lifestyle and I chose mine, but I can honestly say I didn’t like conversing with someone who would soon cease to be. Keane reentered the great room and Shi’s eyes lit up.
Keane is a handsome vampire, like we all are. The man has eyes so intense they bore into your very soul. It’s his gift, soul searching, a vampire who can read the souls of others, humans and vampire alike. Very few soul searchers survive in our community. Vampires aren’t keen on the idea of another being able to see though them and the tales of other’s souls can break and wear down a reader.
The eyes of a soul searcher hold a kind of gentleness, I think of it as a catalyst for the reader, a welcoming feature allowing them to proceed; this all commences without the human or vampire’s knowledge and it’s very interesting to watch. This look has been described in our histories accounts as “puppy-dog eyes”.
Keane glides over to the girl, peering down and into Shi’s eyes. I instantly felt her body relax as he offered his hand, she takes it and is lifted her from her seat. Keane led her toward the spiral staircase central in the townhouse, I watch as he weightlessly slithers up guiding Shi. Her high heels clump up one and then two steps. Then the clopping turned into a whooshing sound as Keane whisked the girl up, my eyes can’t help but follow their path.
Just before crossing the threshold to the bedroom, he glances down the at me, smiles and I could see his teeth had run completely out. I couldn’t help but smirk and shake my head at him.
Keane emerged from the room, easily and quietly closing the door, he had not extinguished Shi’s life and was allowing the stranger to slumber in his temporary haven. I had to admit I wasn’t surprised, Keane had always been attentive; not only in battle but even after the wars, he never let the grief consume him so it showed to his younger siblings and his mother. His father, of course always knew what his son had endured and seen.
“She’ll be here for a day or so.” He said as he reached the bottom of the staircase. His suit slightly disheveled, the jacket and ornate tie were gone and the collar of his white dress shirt hung open. Since his shirt was still tucked into his pants I knew he had not had sex with the girl, but being as she would be in his haven for more than the night, it was definitely in his plans to do so. “I kinda like her, what do you think Cian?”
I nodded and stood up from my seat, beginning to feel that Keane’s presence was more than a simple visit to the Queen, be it by her request or not. “Now that you’re fed, I have a few questions for you, if I may, of course?” I said as he took Shi’s former seat.
His face turned from confused to inquisitive in a matter of seconds, “Sure Cian, Spanish Inquisition?”
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