29 June 2011

Flash Wednesday: Massacre (6/29/11)

It's Wednesday again! Welcome back for another Silver Flash. This week is a paranormal short, one I'm considering making into a novel at some point. Hope you enjoy!


The scream echoed off the biting night air, drawing my attention to the east of the rooftop I perched on. Somewhere over the buildings a woman in need of help, likely being dragged into a dark and filthy alleyway by a strung out addict in search of the quick fix. My fingers dug into the small layer of dirt and rocks on the roof as my legs tensed, preparing for the run.

Her scent hit me, full of fear and adrenaline as another muffled cry rang out. People strolled by in the streets below, coming from their downtown activities, but they ignored this poor woman’s calls for help and walked on as though no one was about to be raped. I didn’t hesitate any further. Following her smell, my legs carried me to the edge of the building and over to the next rooftop with ease.

I saw them before I heard her again. The deviant had her by the throat, dragging her backwards into an alley directly below me. They winked out of sight of the humans on the sidewalk and I could almost taste their relief, it was so palatable. Phew, they thought collectively, glad I don’t have to deal with that.

Humans disgust me. Employing my skills, I dropped to the metal fire escape silently and crept down like a monkey, swinging from rail to rail until I hung over their heads. She smelled good, like raspberries and vanilla. She struggled feebly against his hands as they stripped her shirt off to expose a flowered bra. Red marks rose instantly on her pale skin as he took liberties to grip her shoulders and slam her against the cold bricks once.

Her cries shook with the impact and his knife cut into her chest, just enough to draw a trickle of blood into her cleavage. My fangs tore from my gums, ripping the tender flesh in the way they have when I need to feed. I suppressed the grunt of pain and pushed off the wall to land behind the man.

At the sound of my feet hitting the ground, the attacker became alert to my presence. He turned his head slowly to look over his shoulder at me. I didn’t look like much. Slender arms exposed by a tank top and a baby face to go with it, but the guy had no idea he was about to tango with a beast.

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat, never releasing the woman. She pleaded with her eyes, locking onto my face while big tears slid down her cheeks.

“Doing something special?"
His eyes narrowed on me, grip tightening on the struggling woman. “Nah. Mind your business and walk on.”

“I didn’t walk in, did I?” I stepped forward, watching him tense. He couldn’t see my face in the shadows. All for the best, since my fangs were hanging down.

“If you didn’t walk, then where the hell did you come from?”

I pointed up and he snorted.

“Heaven or some shit?”

“No,” I replied, chuckling softly. “I’m closer to Satan than Jesus.” Before he could blink, I snatched his shirt and drug him towards me. His neck snapped cleanly under my hands and the body tumbled to the ground at my feet.

The woman gasped for breath, eyes wide as I stepped halfway into the faint streetlight. I made no move to touch her, simply watched as she ran shaking hands through her hair and tried to make sense of what just happened.

“Oh, my god,” she whispered. “You saved my life.” Her eyes searched for mine in the dark.

I smiled to myself before turning away. “I’m a monster. Don’t look at me.”

She stepped off the wall hesitantly and touched a hand to my shoulder. “No, you’re not.”

“I killed that man.” I made my voice shake even as my incisors lengthened at the sound of blood humming under her skin.

“But you saved my life.” She spoke urgently, trying to convince me of my godly ways. “I mean, that’s amazing, what you just did.” I startled her when I turned quickly and buried my face against her shoulder. She tensed, and I heaved my chest a few times to trick her. Her light hands raised to my back. “No, no,” she said softly. “Don’t cry.”

“You’re right,” I whispered, turning my head towards her neck. The tender skin called to me, begging to be opened under my tender care. “I shouldn’t be the one upset here.”

She tried to push away from me, but I held tight and gripped her hair. When her head fell to the side, she gasped and whimpered. “Hush now,” I murmured, my lips pressed to her throat. My fang ran along her skin, piercing it until a drop of sweet blood pooled at the wound, and I licked it away. The woman froze, unsure what was happening to her. Her blood rushed into my dry veins, stirring the monster within.

“This will only hurt for a little while,” I whispered just before I massacred her.

My jaw unhinged, allowing my mouth to open wider than was natural. A burning need drove me, making me sloppy, and I ripped into her throat until the hot blood was spewing into my face. Smiling, I trapped the wound with my mouth and drank deeply as she cried out in pain.

I felt her heartbeats weakening until the last one thudded pathetically and her final breath left her. Raising my face to the moonlight, I felt her blood drip off my chin.

Another scream pierced the night sky, and I let the woman’s body drop to the floor as hunger surged through me once more. I leaped onto the building and scaled it quickly. “Geez, man. Are you ever satisfied?”

Chuckling to myself, I bolted into the darkness.


Don't forget to check out the other magnificent flashers this week:

Pia Veleno (m/m)

Lily Sawyer (m/m)

26 June 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

Continuing with Abby:

He wasn't going to take no for an answer. "I'd rather go in alone." 
"Why?" Will frowned. "Do you have to do everything alone, Abby?"
I don't want you there. I can't trust you.

There's the six for this week!  I hope y'all have a great week. :)

24 June 2011

Catriana Sommers guests + a giveaway!

Hi, everybody! I hope you'll help me in welcoming a fellow Silver Publishing author, Catriana Sommers. Her new book, Destined, releases tomorrow. *squee* I'm looking forward to this one! Here she is to chat a bit about the world she's created, along with the blurb and an excerpt. Thanks for dropping in, Catriana!

About Arcanus:

Since Destined releases today, I figured some folks wouldn't mind a bit of information regarding the world and how it functions. I hope you find it enjoyable.

The planet is called Meedia and has five moons. Each moon represents a Goddess: Noxia, Linna, Illuena, Yuena, and Lunaria. In contrast, there are five elements on Meedia that are represented by Gods: Etates(Earth), Kinnan(Water), Arian(Air), Filarn(Fire), and Kard(Void/Shadow). There are many stories and legends about the Gods and Goddesses, the most famous being the story of Lunaria and Kard.
Another story, the tale of Arian and his mortal lover, is currently being told on It's Raining Men for Fantasy Fridays. You'll get to learn more about the very ancient war which now affects The Arcanus Series.

In any case, Destined takes places in Elven territory, two hundred years before the main events begin. Think of Destined as a prequel of sorts. Meedia boasts several races with Humans being one of them. The setting begins on a heavy fantasy note, but in later novels, you'll see some technology like trains, cars, and even steam-powered airships. Magic does exist, although it's fairly limited compared to other fantasy series that have been published.

Most magic draws powers from spirits of a particular element. Communicating with these spirits allows the user to utilize the element only as strongly as their connection allows. Elves are the only race who can use all of the elements at once, but their abilities may not be as powerful as say, a dragon's. In Destined, Naliel shows proficiency in Earth magic, in fact, his connection is one of the strongest in their lands. The downside to this is his lack of abilities in any other element. This caused him to be somewhat alienated growing up, and being half-human didn't help matters.

While Humans are the youngest race, and keep themselves alienated, the Dragons, Kass'na, Vampires, and Elves hold tenuous alliances, depending. The Elves are actually the most friendly of races, having dealings with just about everyone, with the exception of the ancient but all reclusive Dragons. Human/Elven relationships were common once upon a time, but Humans short life spans and the Elves tendency to mate for life caused the latter race to become less inclined to take on lovers outside of their own race.

Not that this stopped Lavern, Naliel's father, otherwise we wouldn't have a story, now would we?
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little bit of insight into my world and I hope you pick up a copy of Destined. A bit more is explained about magic and Elven cultures, with much more to come in the future.

Also remember, to enter in today's contest, leave your name and an e-mail address (so I can get your mailing address) and if you win, I'll be sending you a signed print copy of my novel!  Good luck!

Coming June 25th through Silver Publishing
Pre-order now!


Raised together, Sarnaiel and Naliel are as close as brothers could be, until the dark elf Sarnaiel decides he wants them to be something more. Only after he reveals his intentions does he learn of an arranged marriage that stands between them and their happiness. Unable to stand the idea of the one he loves with another, he vanishes, leaving Naliel alone...or so he thought.

But someone has been watching the young half elf from the shadows, and without Sarnaiel's presence he makes his move in the most brutal of ways. Naliel survives, but his mind and body are broken. Sarnaiel returns to pick up the pieces, mending and nurturing and rebuilding their bond, but once again their relationship is thwarted by the birth of Naliel's bride.

Once the source of his greatest joy, Sarnaiel becomes Naliel's torment. For Sarnaiel, when hurt, strikes back twice as hard and viciously. It doesn’t matter who it is. He almost goes too far and through that, finally learns what should be truly important to him. The oath they make that day is what seals their already unbreakable bond, and the two grow older, and wiser, together. For no matter what happens, no matter what they face, even if it's their own kin, they live by their promise:

"It was us from the beginning, and it'll be us until the end."


The angle of light filtering through the leaves overhead indicated midafternoon by the time they found their prey, a lone male hubrion. Due to the beast's extreme temperamental and territorial nature, these large creatures were normally a hunter's last-resort game. There were typically only two reasons why one would wish to hunt such an animal--desperate starvation, or having something to prove.

Two young elven males, Sarnaiel and Naliel Liunos, happened to be in the latter category. Perched high in the trees, they looked down as the creature grazed the branches to their right. What had started out as a simple conversation amongst peers had turned into a daring bet against the two social outcasts. Pride and egos at stake, the two naturally accepted. Their peers were currently a good distance away, quietly observing in the dense forest.

Naliel frowned thoughtfully, brushing aside his long midnight hair. He reached behind for his bow as the hubrion turned, presenting the perfect angle to hit the vital spot just beneath its jaw.
Something flashed just outside the corner of his eye, distracting him. Naliel turned to his childhood friend, whose fingers moved rapidly in silent communication.

Jumping in one minute. Naliel nodded right as Sarnaiel melted into the shadows of the forest, leaving nothing but a small stream of black smoke in his wake.

Naliel counted the seconds, readied an arrow, and took aim. Enchanted clothing and natural elven abilities kept him from making a single sound and alerting their prey. The creature had yet to change its angle, continuing to chew on fresh leaves, oblivious to its upcoming demise.

At fifty-nine seconds, Naliel shot the first arrow and struck the target dead on. A blood-curdling roar erupted from the beast and three more arrows struck deep, seconds apart. The hubrion swayed, disoriented.

Once the fourth arrow hit, Sarnaiel seemed to emerge out of thin air, flying down through the shadows, wisps of dark smoke trailing from his clothes. He latched onto the creature's long and slender head, gloved fingers digging into rough hide. Before their prey could even contemplate trying to shake this newest annoyance off, two swords appeared in the elf's hands, slicing open the creature's throat. The hubrion flung its head, and Sarnaiel let go, fading back into the shadows.

The beast thrashed weakly, choked attempts at a roar coming from its mangled throat as it drowned in its own blood. Bloodshot orbs rolled to the back of its head as the body fell sideways, dead the moment it hit the ground.

Silence reigned in the forest as Naliel jumped from the perch and made his way towards the creature. Sarnaiel emerged a moment later, a triumphant grin on his handsome face. Turning to the woods, the dark-skinned elf shook blood from his blades before sheathing them. "All right you bastards, pay up!"

Slowly, the rest of the elves came out of hiding, annoyed expressions on most of their faces. However, even they were unable to hide the awe and grudging admiration in their gazes. Two of the golden haired females, Niona and Ralina, glanced at the hunters, impressed and intrigued. They were the only ones to have smiles on their lightly painted lips despite the fact they were out quite a bit of kon.

A blond-haired male, taller and unusually bulky for his race, approached the victors, fixing Sarnaiel with a hard glare. "So you succeeded," Mironel Liunos said.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Sarnaiel raised a pale eyebrow, smirking smugly. "I dare you to claim we cheat now. As you can see, the two of us are better than all of you combined and I assure you, it's all natural skill."

And here's how to get in touch with Catriana:

My Website: http://www.catriana.net
My Blog: http://catrianasmuse.blogspot.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/Catriana_S
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/catriana
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/catriana.sommers
Silver Publishing (Call on Me, Destined): http://www.silverpublishing.info

22 June 2011

The Assassin (6/21/2011)

Wednesday again! Here's the flash for this week, and of course the link to everybody else at the bottom. Enjoy!


Another night, another dollar. I always left in scrubs, deceiving my boyfriend with the illusion of a nursing job on third shift at the hospital downtown. Did he buy it? I don’t know. I don’t care. All I needed to do was three more jobs to pay off his gambling debt to the mafia.

Steadying my breath, I laid on the roof and watched the docks below. One shot, one kill, that was my mantra. I moved as a ghost through the shadows, never revealing myself. In like a fog and out like a whisper. The target’s limo pulled up near the warehouse and he climbed laboriously from it, a huge man with a shiny bald head. Practically a target for my scope, with the crosshairs zooming in to the spot immediately.

“Hold,” I whispered to myself. “Dear lord, please forgive me. Send Charlie to hell instead, but only after he’s lived long enough for me to make his life hell on earth.”

My trigger finger twitched as the shot came into line. One, two, three…One flick of my finger sent a bullet flying from the chamber with a bone chilling boom. It sliced through the air, a whirling cylinder of death, until it met the soft skin of the target. The centrifugal force sent the bullet through his skull and brain, and out the other side along with some matter and a beautiful arc of blood spray which splattered across the front window of the limo.

Chaos erupted below me as I calmly packed my equipment and made a hasty retreat to my escape route. I rounded a corner, my getaway car in sight, and a hand grabbed me from an alley.

Without thinking, I reacted. My fist met a jaw, elbow met a stomach, and my foot took out a knee. As the assailant released me and fell, I pulled a pistol from my pants and pointed it straight between his eyes. Both relief and annoyance flooded me at the sight before me.

“Charlie?” He lay on the ground trying to catch his breath, eyes wide. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“I…I followed you.” He swallowed as he scrambled to his feet and backed against the opposite wall of the alley.

“Followed me? Why would you do that?”

“Because I thought – I thought you were fucking around.”

I snorted. “No, I’m fixing your stupid mistakes.” The panic on his face made me smile. “Yeah, that’s right. One sunny day three months ago, the mafia showed up at the door and threatened to kill you for your gambling debt.”

“So you started doing this?”

“I’m not going to let them kill you when I can make your life so much more miserable.”

Charlie smiled, thinking I was kidding or something. The look faded with his next question. “But you lied to me, Leslie.”

“The difference is I lied for a reason. You blatantly fooled me and everyone we know, and put both of our lives in danger for your addiction.”

I tensed as he stepped towards me and laid a hand on my shoulder. “But how can you kill people like this?”

“The first few were really hard, but it got easier with time.” I actually flinched at how cruel the words sounded, but they were the honest truth.

He pulled me against his chest for a hug. “I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”

And yet, he still didn’t say those three magic words we all want to hear. Four years together and never once did he say “I love you.” I began, in that tiny instance, to doubt his affection, doubt what we had. And with that seed of doubt, the resent grew quickly. I wouldn’t have to kill people if he weren’t alive. Who’s to say he wouldn’t go back to gambling and get in trouble again, anyway?

Additionally, he couldn’t live knowing what I do. The mafia had laid that out very clear to me at the beginning. If anyone saw me or found out, they had to be killed. I swallowed and pulled back.

“Let’s go home. But when you got me, I threw my keys in the alley somewhere.”

“I’ll get them.”

Charlie never knew the bullet was coming for him, and it was better that way. The single piece of metal pierced his head cleanly on my side and exploded out on the other, leaving a real mess. I’d never be able to clean that up, so instead I flipped open my sniper case and brushed away my footprints.

With a last glance to the dark alley, I made a hasty retreat to the car and pulled out the throw away cell phone the mafia supplied me for each and every job. The line rang once before going live.

“Client forty seven is dead,” I said. “So is Charlie.”

“Excuse me? Did he follow you or something?”

“Yeah. He knew everything. Two birds, one bullet.”

The messenger laughed. “You may have a future yet with us. Why don’t you come in tomorrow and talk with Marcos?”

I hung up the cell phone with a smile and threw it into the river as I drove over the bridge. Suddenly, my life was looking up.


The other magnificent flashers:

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
Heather Lin (m/f)

Victoria Blisse (m/f)

Julie Hayes (m/m)

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)

19 June 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday, folks! I was going to continue with Beth, but her scene closed. Plus, I have a new release out yesterday so I'll do a bit from that for awhile. You might remember Abby from a bit ago. She found a home and is telling her story to the world! Yay! Here we go:

When we got into town, I pulled off at the same burger joint Joey and I had eaten at when I first came through the year before. Was it only a year ago? Leaving the car running, I climbed out and walked back to Will's truck. He rolled down the window obligingly. "Listen, the lawyer's office is around the corner..."

"Okay, I'll follow you," he interrupted.

Hope you enjoyed! See you next week, and have a good one.

18 June 2011

Release Day!

It's Abby's release day! *happy dance* *confetti*

Abigail Jones is a former prostitute who buys her freedom from a Mexican cartel boss and forges a new life. Secure in the knowledge that she's escaped her past, Abigail's world falls apart when her brother's head is delivered to her in a brown paper box. And when the cartel boss sends an assassin to take her life, Abigail can't deny the danger she faces.

Encumbered with her brother's infant son and gripped by fear, Abby shares her story and the evidence her brother accumulated about the cartel to the police and finds herself abruptly thrust into Witness Protection.   Beginning a new life as Quinn, the recently divorced mother of little Paul and middle school guidance counselor, Abby is moved to a quiet neighborhood with quaint houses and white picket fences.

While Abby struggles to recreate herself and tries to focus on conforming to the rules of the program, not to mention life with a small child, the cartel continues their search for her.  And although life seems to slowly return to some form of normalcy, little does Abby know that her past is slowly closing in on her.

Sound appealing? You can find her here: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-whati039velearned-563936-148.html And don't forget to check out Heather Lin right below here.

Guest Blogger Heather Lin

Happy Saturday! Please help me say hello to Heather Lin, my guest author today. She's got a fabulous post and excerpt from her brand new release, Westridge. Enjoy, and thanks for dropping by, Heather!

Baby Fever:

I've noticed something about my writing lately: I always want to throw a baby into the mix. If the piece of writing is on the shorter side, I seem to be able to steer myself away from the habit, but in my longer works, it's usually the first thing that pops into my mind as a way to stir the pot. In Westridge, there's Penny; in the unpublished sci-fi novel I recently finished, there's a pregnancy; and in the unpublished contemporary romance I just completed, there's a pregnancy.

I'm sensing a pattern. And I've asked myself why. The answer? Baby Fever.

I've always had the desire to be a mom, and I've been fascinated by the concept of pregnancy
since I was little. I had a doll baby, and I'd stick her up my shirt and then pretend to give birth to
her. My favorite movie was Mother of the Bride: Part 2. When I was 9, I interviewed my mother
on how babies are made and the birthing process because I'd decided to write a book about it.

Now, I'm 22-years-old, and I'm getting married in eleven months. I want kids, my fiance wants
kids. My mother, of course, is dying for grandchildren. I think I've always had this baby fever, but
now I'm at a good age, my life is beginning to fall into place, and my fever has spiked. My body is
saying "Get on with it, already!"

But my body doesn't quite understand the issue of finances or the necessity of moving into a nicer
place before jumping into baby land. With my characters, I can give them all they need to have
kids. I can make them perfect, rich, and ready. (Not that I ever do make their lives perfect.
Where would the fun in that be?) But, basically, I can write a happy ending.

But there's no undo, delete, or deux ex machina for me. I have to plan. I have to wait. So for
now, I'll probably continue to make children a big part of my characters' lives so that I can
continue to put off my own desires just a little bit longer.

You can find Heather's release right here: https://silverpublishing.info/product_book_info/coming-soon-c-2/westridge-p-293


Gabby Jones and Jason Dawson were born only months apart in the small, country town of Westridge. For the next eighteen years, they were inseparable, but after their high school graduation, Gabby got on a bus to the city, leaving Jason with a weak explanation and a broken heart. After five years of making it a point to avoid her old flame, Gabby comes home for a funeral and, thanks to meddling parents and circumstance, she and Jason are thrown together again.
But now Jason is an auto mechanic with an ex-wife and a daughter, and Gabby owns a successful flower shop in the city. Even if Gabby is able to admit she still loves Jason, and even if Jason is able to convince her to tell him the real reason she left, will they be able to get past the changes and broken pieces in time to start over?


"What do you mean you can't pick me up?" Gabby Jones asked in disbelief, trying to balanceher purse, suitcase, ticket, and cell phone as she boarded the bus.

"I'll send someone to get you. I'm busy helping with the funeral arrangements," her mother replied.

"What about Dad?"

"He's busy, too. We'll send someone."

"Mom," she said unhappily. "I know who you're gonna send. You can't."

"Oh, you're gonna have to see him at the funeral, anyway. And just because you disowned all of your friends when you moved away doesn't mean I have to."

Gabby had left the small town of Westridge five years ago. In Westridge, the nearest mall was forty-five minutes away, and "got stuck behind a plow" was the most common excuse for tardiness. The kids hung out at Walmart or the diner during their downtime and talked about how they couldn't wait to get away from the stupid small town where everyone knew everyone else's business. They didn't want to be stuck in the same routine, seeing the same people their whole lives, and Gabby had felt the same way — trapped, bored, insignificant. At least, that's what she'd told Jason two days before getting on a bus to the city and not looking back.

Ever since, she'd made a point of avoiding her old friends whenever she returned to visit her parents. Of course, her mother always updated her on Jason whether Gabby wanted to hear it or not. Mrs Jones had complained about the girl Jason dated after Gabby, discounted their quick marriage, gushed over their new baby, and gloated when they got divorced just a year after her birth. It had hurt Gabby to hear the news, but there was no way she'd ever admit it to her mother. Gabby tolerated her mother's gossip and was grateful she'd managed to avoid her high school sweetheart in person, if not in conversation. But this visit would be different.

Her parents and Jason's had been best friends since high school, and none of them made a secret of wishing Gabby and Jason would get back together. Sending him to pick her up today was a perfect setup. For them. Gabby rolled her hazel eyes in annoyance, even though her mother couldn't see.

"I didn't disown anyone," she said. “I just went on to bigger and better things. People drift apart. It happens."

She found her seat and threw her bags onto the rack above it. Her neighbors didn't look particularly happy about the twenty-three year old talking away on her cell phone, but she ignored them.

"Bullshit," Mrs Jones admonished. Only her mother could make cussing sound like a gentle, motherly act. "You loved it here. You were perfectly happy until—"

"Mom!" Gabby interrupted, not wanting to hear what her mother would say next.

She'd become a master of denial over the years and couldn't handle anyone breaking through the fog of her self-induced memory loss. Her mother sighed. It was a heavy sound, and Gabby didn't like it. It made her seem old.

"You're right. It's fine," Gabby's voice softened. "I'll have to see him soon, anyway."

"It'll be okay, baby. I love you. I have to go now."

"Love you, too, Mom."

She snapped the phone shut and leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes to fend off a tension headache. But all she could see was an eighteen year old Jason: blue eyes full of disbelief, face pale, fists balled.

* * * *

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jason demanded, slamming the door to his truck shut.

"I'm leaving."

Gabby had to work hard to keep her chin raised and her lips from trembling.

"Just like that? And all I get is a note in my locker on the last day of school?"

He threw a crumpled piece of paper at her feet. Her parents had dropped her off at the bus stop, but they were long gone. If that goodbye had been painful, this one would be excruciating — which was exactly why she'd tried to avoid it.

"I told you in the note—"

"And now you can tell me to my face."

He was making a scene. Gabby was embarrassed, and the tears she'd tried desperately to keep at bay burned in her eyes.

"There isn't anything to do in this town. I just need to see what else is out there."

"This is bullshit, Gabby. A few months ago, we were talking about getting married."

Her voice rose as she lied desperately through her teeth, trying to keep control.

"Well, I changed my mind."

The bus pulled up, and Jason's anger turned to pleading.

"Don't, Gabby. If you need some time away from this place, I'll go with you."

"You belong here, Jason."

"I belong with you."

"Not anymore."

Then she turned and boarded the bus, ignoring the stares. She managed to hold the tears back until he was out of sight.

* * * *

The pain of the memory was scorching, surprising Gabby with its intensity. She opened her eyes. She had to get a hold of herself. She looked past the old man reading a magazine, her gaze falling on the houses outside. They were reaching the suburbs, but her destination lay far beyond that. Gabby groaned and firmly pushed the last image she had of her high school sweetheart out of her mind. The next few days were going to be hell.

17 June 2011

Guest Blogger Mindi Ferrari

Hi, everybody! Please help me welcome the guest today, Mindi Ferrari. She's done a lovely interview with excerpt and all. Enjoy!

Please tell the readers a little about yourself.

First off lets state that I am not normal, nor have a I ever been. I am as crazy as they come. I have a brain that turns like a hamster wheels, and body that somehow has adopted some form of ADHD. And my attention is like a dog always on to something else, new, and fun. Since I was 10 years old I dreamed of writing horror novels. That dream quickly ended with the realization that boys and girls were supposed to not only get along with one another, but they were so supposed to fall in love and live happily ever after. I am a paranormal and contemporary romance author that has dabbled in young adult and adult, but soon found a home writing adult romance and never looked back.

How about your latest release?

A vampire sworn to protect his kind. A sadistic hunter wanting the blood of vampire. One beautiful human caught in the crossfire. More info can be found at: http://www.mindiferrari.com/portfolio.html or  http://www.secretcravingspublishing.com/MindiFerrari.html

What was your primary inspiration for this book? 

I would have to say my love for vampires, I’ve always wanted to write my own feel for the species, although pretend I know all us women wish in most ways they were real and watching us.

Do you have any muses? 

My one and only Muse would have to be the vampires in J.R.Wards black dagger brotherhood novels. I could eat those vampires up!

Any advice for aspiring writers? 

Be patient and no matter what work your butt off to make your dreams come true, never give up hope. This business is extremely hard, so again patients and persistence is the key.

If you could be one animal, person, or at a place for a day what/who/where would it be? 

Well I would never want to be an animal, so a person *taps on chin* I would love to be a Victoria Secret model, walking on the cat walk for one day…

*LK: And the free bras! Snap!*

Five random facts about you: 

I must have coffee to function. I have OCD with how nice I like the books to be (no bent or torn covers, they must look brand new), I hate stickers. I must listen to classic rock to write. And last but not least, I love the color purple.

Are you working on any new releases later this year? 

I have a paranormal romance that’s called Wicked Games that’s due to be released September 19 2011 with Secret Cravings Publishing.

Anything else you’d like to say? 

I love talking to people, fans, other writers and authors alike or different, so anytime you want to chat just email me or send me a message on facebook I would love to hear from you.

And the excerpt:

Nicholie’s boots crushed the ground beneath him, “one step at a time.” He told himself. “She will make it.”
His heart clenched and cracked like trees in a thunderstorm. The blood was dripping down the side of his arm and rushing to fall to the ground. Even something as simple as her blood and the scent that came from it made his fangs elongate, his nose tickle with excitement, and the bulge in his pants throb. He had to put those thoughts away because she was dying, he could sense it.

“That fucker is gonna die.” Nicholie’s patience was wearing thin, he knew that Jude had it covered but also knew that one kick to that mother fucker’s skull was not good enough for him.

He had to get her to the doc though and only had a few minutes left. She had been beaten hardcore the way his daddy used to beat him and his sister.

There was something about the woman he carried in his arms, something that made his heart beat out of order. Something that made the very core of him want to protect and keep her all to himself. Knowing she was human though made it out of the question. As he braced her body and ran fast toward the mansion, he knew without a doubt as soon as she was well he would have to let her go. That’s if everything went the way it should but fate just might intervene against his will.

Nicky couldn’t even begin to feel the burn the fast pace was placing on his bones and skin, his muscles were working overtime but his mind was on the woman.

Within five minutes he had made it fifty miles and up into the mountains where they lived. Stopping long enough at the gate to be buzzed in, Nicky ran straight for the building behind his house where the doc’s quarters were. Passing the rose bushes, he hit the front door, slammed it into the wall and knocked it off its hinges.

“Nicky what the hell are you doing?” As the doc rushed to help him with the woman, he grabbed at Nicholie’s arm and rushed him over to a table in one of the rooms.

The house the doc lived in was about three stories and each level had its own purpose with. They however were on the middle level.

“I found her behind the hospital, just behind Shadow Lane. I got the damn bastard right before he pulled his jolly out of his pants.” His breathing never wavered, even though he had run faster than he ever had before.

“Jesus Nicky, you might have got her here right in time.” The doc rushed to his cabinet and pulled out a nineteen-gauge syringe with all the trimmings. As he went back to the woman’s side, he pulled her shirt away from her neck and stuck the needle in the jugular vein. “This will help calm her for a little while so I can examine her.”

He never asked questions when the doc did his duties, but for some reason him being close to her made his body tense up. As the doc began to check over the woman, he knew he could hear the soft growl rising up in his throat.

The doc looked Nicholie in the eyes. “Steady there tiger—you okay?” Nicky felt the doc’s eyes on his every move, watching the expression on his face Nicky knew he would get an ear full later. He was already so paranoid about the woman, and for no apparent reason. Just as he watched the doc reach the woman’s arm Nicky went into panic mode, His chest heaving, a growl rising, suddenly he bared his fangs, “Nicky I’m not going to hurt her I need to examine her and make sure we can get her to pull through this, okay?”

The growl stopped and his eyes eased back to normal.

“I just—shit, I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

“She’s human Nicky, you know that right? I mean I can help her and I will just considering the facts but—”

“But nothing, look I know the rules. I will give her head a wash and return her as soon as she’s well.” 

Nicky watched as doc returned to the woman’s lifeless body to check her vitals. Right as he reached to take off her clothes, so he could examine the rest of her body for damage, Nicholie grabbed his hand and forced him to stop. This is my woman. Although he knew the doc needed to put a gown on her to begin using the hardcore machines, he felt it was within his territory, that it was his job. “I’ll do that, turn around,” Nicholie snapped faster than a two year old throwing a temper tantrum.

“Are you serious? Look I can’t do my job if you keep stopping me, Nicky, I can’t save her, now let me do what I have too. Get your emotions in check or I will be forced to make you leave. Don’t think I don’t have back-up.”

“I will help then, I will do what needs to be done physically, I don’t want you seeing her naked. I mean you don’t know her—I mean look, just let me take her clothes off and put her gown on then you can turn around.” The doc inhaled a deep breath.

“If it helps, but you mustn’t think I won’t ever see her naked, Nicky. Look what if she needs surgery?” As Nicholie nodded to the doc then took in a nice deep breath to get his emotions under control for the second time. The doc shrugged his shoulders and began to sit his supplies down. “Then do as you wish, Nicky, but as a doctor I have morals and one of them is to not check out patients.”

“Fine, but do me a favor and stop saying my name so damn much, you’re making me hate it.”

“Good we agree then—I will do my job?” Nicholie nodded.


They both took off what was left of her clothes, and then he stood there in shock. Yes, he knew the human race but to be honest he didn’t know one human being was capable of surviving with this many bruises to their body, her tiny delicate body. His heart wanted to cry but every single part of him stayed strong as they put her gown on and the doc hooked up her I.V.

Thanks for dropping by, Mindi!

15 June 2011

What I've Learned has been pushed up!

To June 17th! Hooray! More info to follow.

Her (6/15/11)

It's Wednesday again! You know what that means. It's time for another flash fiction. Here's a short penned especially for today. Hope you enjoy!

The soft bass line throbbing through the ceiling doesn’t bother him so much, nor does the heavy sound of feet pounding across the floor in awkward dance moves and sketchy drunk steps. He wonders how many of the college kids living in the apartment above him are wearing guyliner and black nail polish right now.

No matter; he’s got better things on his mind. Settling in with a beer and his camera, he waits at the window. Shadows draw long across his body as an hour passes, and the party upstairs rages harder. It may be Friday night, but she won’t be out partying. She’s too focused for that.

He glances at the wall of photos he keeps. Her smiling face dots every single picture, beaming out and inviting him in. But he’s not ready yet. He watches the redhead, always keeping a tab on where she is, who she’s with, what she’s doing. Like a clock, she gets up at seven sharp on her days off, Thursday and Monday, and is at the park down the street for a run by seven fifteen. She jogs for an hour, five times around the track, before heading back to her apartment for a shower.

The window he sits at looks straight to hers, one floor up and the next building over. He saw her one day, coming in from work. A chance meeting in the street out front, he’d fallen hard and fast and he knows they’re meant to be as one. Even if she doesn’t even know his name yet. From where he sits, he can watch her bathroom window fog up, and then see a glimpse of her glorious naked figure as she jettisons into the bedroom for her clothes.

And if she forgets to close the curtains altogether, well. Payday. She’s working tonight, and he waits patiently for her shift to end. Just as the party is getting unbearably loud, she turns on a light. He shifts, suddenly attentive, and prepares his camera. The lens zooms in and finds her tossing keys on the table and slamming the front door behind her.

Did she forget to lock it?

That wouldn’t do at all. He can’t have his lady standing in an unlocked apartment with all the frat boys hanging around. He watches for a few more moments, relishing in the way her hair swings around her shoulders when she removes the restrictive rubber band and how she leans against the bar while her messages play.

She seems angry as she slams a hand on the counter and stands. A large, fluffy cat winds its way around her arms on the counter and she absentmindedly scratches its ears. Turning, she looks out the window, seemingly straight at him.

He shrinks back into the shadows, knowing he’s well concealed, and begins snapping photos. Her cheekbones angle perfectly, catching shadows and light, and he smiles at how beautiful his candid shots will turn out. When she turns on the light in her bedroom and begins stripping, he leans forward.

The curtains are open. He watches the bra fall away, her back turned to him, and is mesmerized as she shimmies out of her scrub bottoms. She heads for the bathroom and he waits a beat before walking out his front door.

A chicken drumstick flies past his head, and he looks up for the source. A college kid is hanging half over the edge.

“Sorry about that, man,” the kid yells.

Shaking his head, he slams the front door and enters the warm night air. Summer is in full swing, coupling humidity and heat for an orgy of devilish proportions. He walks confidently into the next building, as though he belongs there.

Her complex is quiet and subdued, a place for single mothers to raise their children and late night workers to find peace. It’s in stark contrast to the party house he lives in. He makes his way up one floor and finds her apartment. 4B.

Carefully, he reaches for the doorknob and finds it unlocked. He smiles to himself and turns the knob, hesitating before he opens the door. The shower water is running and her voice is ringing through the apartment as she belts out a song.

He closes the door behind him and steps inside, looking around at her place. Neat and tidy, everything he imagined for her. The cat stares at him warily from the kitchen, and he ignores it and walks by towards the bedroom.

Her clothes are strewn on the floor, cast aside in a haphazard attempt to get in the shower quickly. He inhales, the scent of flowers walloping him in the gut. The thrill of being in the same room as she is sends a bolt of electricity down his spine. She’s so close, just beyond the bathroom door. He can see her in the reflection of the mirror, her hands running across her hair.

God, he just wants to touch her. She shuts the water off, and he panics, trapped. He dives under the bed and tucks his foot under just as she emerges from the bathroom. Her feet pad softly to the side of the bed and he watches, fascinated, as she slips into her panties. A moment later, she leaves the bedroom.

He has nowhere to go. The front door is the only escape, so he has to wait until she goes to bed. He doesn’t wait long; a mere half hour later, by his best gauge, she reenters the bedroom and climbs into bed before flicking the light off.

For safe measure, he waits until he hears the first snore to sneak out from under the bed. The sight that greets him is overwhelming. Her red hair splays out on the pillow, echoing pale skin. He reaches out to touch her cheek, and runs a finger down the side.

Gasping, she sits up and looks into the darkness with wide eyes, searching for the source of her nightmare.


Don't forget to check out the other great flashers this week:


12 June 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday! Gah, I overslept. Here's continuing on from Beth:

'Not your business. Screw off.' The phone vibrated again as soon as my feet hit the cool kitchen tiles.

'You better come see me, Emily.'

'This isn't Emily.' Frustrated, I turned the phone off and left it on the counter to crawl back under the covers with Dalton. His arm draped around my shoulders and sleep took me once more.

Thanks for dropping by!

10 June 2011

Guest Blogger Mindi Ferrari!

Hi, everybody! Today, my guest is Mindi Ferrari, author of the upcoming Midnight Assassins from Secret Cravings Publishing. Let's give her a warm welcome! You can find more out about her at her website.

Hi Everyone!

After trying to figure out for quite some time on what things matter the most in any romance novel I am reading, I figure out it was the Hero. We all know him, we all dream about him, and we all sure as hell love to read about him. What is it that we love so much about this Alpha Male that sparks our attention? Is it because we are “holding out for a hero” in our lives or is it something as simple as just being turned on by the attitude they encompass. Most of us writers love to grab a reader’s attention and pull them in tight with our MC’s attitude and actions. We tend to build or characters to allow a ride range of woman to want them. I don’t know how many times I have been reading a novel and have said to myself “please oh please let this man knock on my door right now. I swear I will be a good girl for the rest of my life is you deliver me this man wrapped in a bow on my doorstep.” But for some reason this never works.

This takes me to my other point. How many authors do you stick with because of their style for writing with these delectably delicious men and how they place them into their stories. I know I stick with afew authors, in fact I obsess over them. I am enthralled by JR. Wards Black Dagger Brother Hood Vampire novels and Gena Showalter’s Lords of The Underworld series. I keep coming back for more to get a taste at each new Alpha Male that’s printed across those pages. It is said that the general definition for an Alpha Male is a good looking, well off, confident man who uses his cocky behavior or his witty jokes to make a woman smile. This “male” is also muscular by nature and takes care of his body very well, paying close attention to the ropes of muscle of the lean cuts of beef that we dream of licking, okay okay I’m side stepping and dreaming myself here. Anyways They also know what they want in a woman, and can be very calm and collected in any situation. And last but not least this male is not afraid to show whom he really is no matter who is watching. This is the hero us woman want to read about, and this is the man us writers do write about. We look forward to this man every time we open a new book or close one we just finished. In my new release Midnight Assassin that will be released June 20th I focus so much of my energy on this exact male, of course there is also that side best friend that we fall in love with as well. So with all this being said. I would love to hear who your Alpha Male is in any novel you have read that has gripped you beyond belief.

And last but not least thank you so much Lindsay you are truly awesome for letting me guest blog. As always it is wonderful being on your site!

08 June 2011

The Grim (6/8/11)

Happy Wednesday! Here's the new flash fiction piece. I'm undecided on whether to continue it as an ongoing thing or cut it off here and write it as its own piece. We'll see.

Anyhoo, here we go! *LANGUAGE* warning, per usual, because I'm almost positive there's some in here. :)

* *

The bright spotlight blinds me as the mystery operator swings it towards me. Flinging my arm up, I shield my eyes and squint into the otherwise dark room.

When the mysterious letter came in the mail last week, beckoning me to the abandoned warehouse, I almost didn’t go. But then the eviction notice came hot on its coattails and I figured, What the hell? Not like I have a job, or family, or anything to miss me, really.

I step into the room hesitantly, one foot in front of the other, and the door slams behind me. Jumping, I turn with my heart ready to burst out of my chest. But no one is there. Just empty shadows dancing in the ominous darkness, mocking me.

“Maggie Smyth.”

It’s not a question from the booming voice echoing over a loudspeaker, but a command to turn and peer into the room. I do just that, powerless to stop, and find myself facing five other people.

Quite an eclectic hodgepodge of people, too. The cryptic letter senders must have really reached far and wide for this crew; they seem to be as destitute as myself, if not worse. The obscenely tall man immediately to my left is covered with gauged piercings in his face, with a lime green Mohawk to top off the leather bound look. A small, mousy type girl is hovering behind him, chewing her nails while her round bifocal frames slide down her nose. Next to her is a rotund man, looking bored. A blonde woman is standing in the middle of the room, shifting uncomfortably in her designer heels. And to my right is a guy who looks like he could walk onto a Hollywood movie set as a biker gang member and fit right in. The leather vest slides right over tattooed, bulging arms, and his jeans fit nicely over his boots.

And they’re all staring at me. I smile nervously and wave.

“Hi. What the hell is going on?” No one answers me.

A slow clap begins behind me. I leap forward a few steps, turning and gripping at my chest with wide eyes. A man steps from the shadows directly behind me.

He’s wearing suit pants and a white shirt, loosely buttoned and topped with a black jacket. His beard is perfectly scruffy, and his hair is dirty blond and tousled. Bright blue eyes pop from his skin as he looks me over.

“Welcome to the game, Maggie. You’ve already won the first challenge by being the first to speak.”

“Game?” I didn’t sign up for any game. “I hate reality shows.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. This isn’t reality TV. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ashby, but I go by Ash. You’re entering into a competition to -”

“We don’t have a choice?” I interrupt.

“My associates and I assumed since you accepted our invitation that you also wanted to play.”

I consider for a moment and nod. “Not like I have anything to lose, I guess.”

He smiles. “The competition is for an elite position as assistant to some of the most powerful men in the world.”

“Why us?” says biker boy.

Ash looks at him with aplomb. “Each of you has a quality we seek. There is a table behind you. Please find an assortment of items behind a nameplate. Each of you has the same selection. When the bell sounds you have ten seconds to decide which item will be invaluable to you in the competition.”

The spotlight swings to the table and the six of us approach it quickly. Maggie, reads my tag in simple block lettering. I glance to my left and see Callista, the blonde, and to my right is Chandler, the biker.

The item selection is minimal, and I breathe a sigh of relief since I’m a horrible decision maker. Among the selection is an air pistol, a machete – which sends a trickle of alarm through me, a notepad and pen, a syringe, a brush, and a book. My head tilts looking at the recondite book, bound in brown leather and tied off with a black satin string. There are no markings on it, nothing to indicate what might lie between the precious pages.

The bell sounds and we all lunge forward. I grab the book, hugging it close to my chest. A jolt rockets through my body, electricity tingling to my fingertips and making the hair on my neck stand on end. But I turn with the book clutched in my white knuckles and my jaw set.

Too late. I’m out of time to change my mind. Ash steps into the light and smiles.

“Excellent choices,” he says softly. “Follow me, please.” He leads us into a small, well lit area off the main room. The table is filled with little appetizers. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll return shortly.”

I sit on the couch and take a mini sandwich. “This is weird,” I comment.

“Why are you talking?” the blonde says with a hostile edge.

My eyebrows shoot up. “Pardon me for trying to break the ice. Seems we’re all in the same boat.”

“I don’t talk to people like you,” Callista returns and looks away with her nose in the air.

Blinking at her, I sit back on the couch. This is like a freaking soap opera. When the door opens five minutes later, Ash walks in with five of the scariest men I’ve ever seen. “Contestants, these are your bosses. You’ll work for them for the duration of the next six weeks.”

He looks at me and smiles. “Maggie Smyth, you are mine.”

And be sure to check out the other flashers this week:

Julie Hayes (m/m)

Heather Lin (m/f)

Lily Sawyer (m/m)

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)

Pender Mackie (m/m)