Blog Tour: Up A Dry Creek

Welcome to another tour from Coffee Beans and Love Scenes! This one is for Up A Dry Creek, by Avery Flynn. I'll be posting a review below, and an interview from the author. Enjoy!

Up A Dry Creek:

Claire Layton expects the usual busy Saturday night at Harvest Bistro to be killer on her stilletto shod feet. She never imagines there’d be an actual murderer on the loose at her restaurant in rural Dry Creek, Nebraska. But when she discovers a customer dead in a dumpster, the killer demands she find the victim’s phone and flash drive or face fatal consequences.


Jake Warrick, a cocky and mind-numbingly hot private investigator, becomes Claire's unlikely ally in the search. Jake just wants to solve the case and get out of this hick town, but the diminuitive and curvaceous Claire turns his plan upside down as they uncover a more complex crime than they ever imagined. The two bicker and banter like Tracy and Hepburn caught in a whirlwind of intense sexual attraction as they try to find the killer before it's too late.

Review:

From the first line, this book had me hooked. Flynn wastes no time in getting straight to the story, opening with a scene in Claire’s restaurant followed directly by the discovery of a dead girl in her dumpster out back.

When Jake was first introduced, I didn’t like him. Because Claire came in so strong and fierce, I immediately identified with her, and when they had their initial exchange I seethed. But as we get to know him, Jake isn’t such a bad guy after all.

Flynn executes this story with grace and ease, and the plot flows nicely. The only beef I had is how frustrated I became waiting for Claire and Jake to consummate their relationship. But, in the end the wait was worth it.

I often read romance novels written in a sappy sweet voice with a happy ever after that no one can really expect to have. But this novel was played out with humor and enough tension to keep you turning the pages, and the ending is plausible. I thoroughly enjoyed this story, and will definitely be reading Flynn’s work again.

Interview:

Please tell the readers a little about yourself: Well there’s two of me. I’m author Avery Flynn, which is the real me - she with the three kids, one husband, two arthritic dogs and an addiction-worthy love of strong, black coffee. Then there’s blue hair Avery Flynn, my alter ego who is part astrophysicist and part femme fatal. She dances the tango, stays at the Ice Hotel in Iceland and bar hops with the wild and crazy. Tim Gunn is her best friend. Why the two? The simple truth is that Avery Flynn is my pen name. The real reason? Who wouldn’t want to invent a badass alter ego?

How about your latest release? Up a Dry Creek is a fun and steamy romantic suspense about two hard-headed alphas and the murder of a spoiled rich girl at a private liberal arts college in small town Dry Creek, Nebraska. I hope readers will fall in love with Claire (a spitfire if there ever was one) and Jake (yummy is all I can say about him) as much as I did while writing Up a Dry Creek. But a word of warning: This is not the book for you if you like slow, plodding books that lack a sense of humor and sexual chemistry. If that is the type of book you enjoy, perhaps I could recommend my old organic chemistry textbook? :)

What was your primary inspiration for this book? Every romantic suspense novel I’ve ever read. I love reading fun, fast-paced novels that make my stomach fizz with the hero and heroine fall in love and get my heart pounding whenever the bad guy approaches. So that’s the kind of book I wanted to write and voila Up a Dry Creek was born.

Do you have any muses? Nope, no muses. Just me and my weirdly-wired brain making up stories.

Do you control your characters or do they flog you into shape?  Flog, what a great word. :) I don’t control my characters they have stubborn little minds of their own. Their kind of like children that way. I can coax and threaten, but in the end if they want to throw a temper tantrum like a three year old until they get their way, they will.

When you write, is there a special routine you follow? There must be coffee. That’s rule No. 1. Also, I’m a plotter, so I need to know where the story is going, even if it’s only a vague idea. Next, comes quiet. The only time I listen to music is when I’m writing sex scenes.

If you could be one animal, person, or at a place for a day what/who/where would it be? Don’t let the two Averys fool you, I really like being me so I’d have to make it a place. When I was in college I studied for a semester in Ireland and we traveled to the Aran Islands. That place is breathtakingly beautiful with sheer cliffs and the ocean pounding below. We stayed at a B&B and sang American Pie in the pub with the locals. What a lovely time that was, I’d love to go back.

Five random facts about you: I love hot yoga. Bridget Jones Diary is my favorite romantic movie, with a close second going to Down With Love. I cannot pass a bookstore without going in. I despise talking on the telephone. If you walk into a room and someone is laughing really loudly, it’s probably me.

Are you working on any new releases later this year? Yes! A Dry Creek Bed, the second in my Dry Creek series, will be going to the publisher by the end of September. Fingers crossed, they’ll love it as much as I do.

Anything else you’d like to say? Just my favorite quote from the great movie, Auntie Mame starring Rosalind Russell: Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death.

Contact info:

Website: www.averyflynn.com

Blog: http://www.averyflynn.com/Avery_Flynn/Lets_Chat/Lets_Chat.html

Twitter: @averyflynn

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Avery-Flynn/177161972329973

Thanks for being here, Avery!

 

The next stop on this tour will be at Everyone Loves A Sinner, so have a look!

Buy Links

Evernight Publishing:

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/products/Up-a-Dry-Creek-by-Avery-Flynn.html

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Up-Dry-Creek-ebook/dp/B0055UZ9UG

B&N:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/up-a-dry-creek-avery-flynn/1103948714

Smashwords:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/66844

Welcome Home

Well, it's that time of the week once more! Today, I bring you a little ditty I've been working on as a potential opener for a new horror. Hope you enjoy!

*LANGUAGE/VIOLENCE*


A giggle pierced the night air.


“Shh,” said a young man, admonishing his date. “You want to get us caught out here?”


“Oh, come on,” she replied. Pulling away from him, she looked around at the decrepit old mansion looming in front of them. “This place is in the middle of nowhere. Who the hell is going to hear us?”


He smiled. “Well, you know the legend, don’t you?”


She shook her head, eyes wide.


“Oh, yeah? Then let me tell you all about it.” He tugged her hand and pulled her close as they crept up the overgrown path. “They say a woman used to live here with her daughter. When the daughter was murdered the woman went mad. She started killing anybody who came onto the property, and drank their blood until the body withered up."


A twig snapped under the girl’s foot and she gave a little scream and leaped against her boyfriend. “Shit, that scared me.” She giggled. “What happened to the woman?”


The massive front doors loomed in front of them and he reached for the handle with a wicked grin plastered on his cheeks. “Nobody knows. She’s never been seen again. They say she might still be here.” A groan of the wood door had his girlfriend on edge. The scent of decay swept out with a whoosh of dust. “They say,” he whispered, “that she might even live right under these floors, in the dungeon they found caked with dried blood.”


“Shut up, Sean,” the girl whispered. “You’re scaring me.”


“That’s the point, isn’t it?” He chuckled and tugged her hand behind him. “Come on, Michele. I’m with you.”


The foyer was coated with a layer of filth and grime, dark hardwood floors barely visible beneath. A broken chandelier dangled from the ceiling, supported by two strands of chords, and the breeze from the open door rustled the crystal droplets. From somewhere deep in the house, a floorboard creaked.


“Did you hear that?” Michele glanced around and swallowed, eyes wide.


“Probably just a stray cat,” Sean replied. “Or maybe, it’s the woman coming to eat us alive.”


“Will you stop doing that?” she said with a scowl. “I can’t concentrate on even walking right when you talk like that.”


They tiptoed towards the swirling staircase. Paintings of elegant women and men hung crooked on the walls, their faces withered with age. The stairs moaned with each step, and Michele’s breathing became shallow with anticipation of what would come.


A wide hallway opened on the top floor, with rooms laid out to each side of them. Doors barely cracked open revealed threatening darkness. Michele swallowed and gripped Sean’s hand a little tighter.


“Sean, let’s go. We’ve seen enough.” A soft tap behind her made Michele jump and look back. Nothing loomed in the shadows.


“What’s the matter, baby? You scared?” Sean’s taunts lured her forward, against her better instincts.


Moonlight trickled into the bay windows at the end of the hall, scattered in the ripped silk curtains hanging haphazardly from broken rods. Sean pushed a door and it creaked open to reveal a dark bedroom. A four poster bed sat in the middle of the room, the white bedspread spread out as though someone had been sleeping there. Michele walked forward while her boyfriend looked at the trinkets on the dresser and fingered the soft sheets.


The fabric was warm under her fingers.


Gasping, she stepped back. “Sean,” she whispered, “we have to go. There’s someone here.”


“Have you seen anyone?” He snorted. “Stop being so scared of this damn mansion. Come here and look what I found.”


Michele swallowed and rushed to his side. He pointed to a picture on the dresser, the only piece of glass not smeared with dust in the house. A smiling woman peered out from the photo, her bright blue eyes crinkled on a wide smile. Dark black hair framed her pale face, and a forest behind her only accentuated her beauty.


“Wow, she’s beautiful.”


“You think that’s the daughter?”


The mention of another person brought thought of the cooling bed back to Michele’s mind. “I don’t know. All I know is that bed is warm.”


“What do you mean, warm?” Skeptical, Sean walked to the bed in two steps and ran his hand along the covers. “It’s cold, babe.” He chuckled and looked over his shoulder.


Michele was gone.


“Michele?” Panic fluttered into his chest at the empty room. She’d been just there, standing by the dresser and terrified. “Babe?”


He stepped away from the bed, looking towards the door. Silence echoed from the hallway, and Sean swallowed. A soft thud behind him drew his attention and he looked over his shoulder to find a horrific sight.


Michele lay on the white sheets, her body contorted. Blood pooled underneath her and dripped to the floor from her fingertips. An open, gaping wound on her neck was only just visible beneath her matted hair. She stared at him with wide eyes, trying to form words.


Sean dropped to his knees next to the bed. “Oh, shit. What happened, Michele?” Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to speak. “What is it?” His voice cracked with the fear and grief coursing through his body. “What is it, babe?”


She raised a shaking finger and pointed to the ceiling. Sean blinked and turned his head to look up.


He barely saw the blonde demon dropping on him, but he felt her fangs sink into his neck.


~End~


And the other magnificent flashers:

Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com

Chris Quinton (m/m)
http://chrisquinton.com

Catriana Sommers
http://catrianasmuse.blogspot.com/

Victoria Blisse (m/f)
http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk

L. M. Brown (m/m)
http://lmbrownauthor.blogspot.com/

Freddy MacKay (m/m)
http://freddymackay.blogspot.com

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

West Thornhill (m/m)
http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Klug (m/f)
www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://www.ryssaedwards.net/blog/

Elyzabeth M. VaLey (m/f)
http://inadreambeyond.blogspot.com/

Six Sentence Sunday!

Hi, folks! Happy Sunday!


“Hey, Adelaide! Wait up!”


Adelaide looked up from her handheld at the echoing call coming down the sterile corridor towards her. She glanced over her shoulder to see the congressman’s assistant running her way, good old what’s-his-face. Oh, shit, she thought. What is his name?


There's my offering for this week, from a WIP sitting on my desktop. Have a great week!

Guest Blogger Heather Thurmeier!

Happy Monday, folks! I have Heather Thurmeier as a guest today, and she has an excellent blog about titling a book. Enjoy, and thanks for dropping by, Heather!

Who cares what the title is as long as the book is good, right?

Wrong.

Titles are incredibly important. They immediately tell us something about the book we’re about to submit to publishers, about to read—or about to buy. Admit it, you’ve passed over a book in the store or online because at first glance, the title didn’t reach out and grab you. I know I have.

When I first wrote LOVE AND LATTES, I really struggled with the title. I did all kinds of brainstorming for the perfect title as I wrote it, but there was never one that really got me excited. Finally, I settled on Chasing Julia. My hero is Chase and my heroine is Julia. I thought it was a perfect play on words and it was memorable. But as I finished the book, I just couldn’t bring myself to send it out as it was. The title didn’t fit and I knew if I sent it out to publishers with that title, they would have the wrong impression of the book before they ever read it.

What does the title Chasing Julia conjurer in your mind? A romantic suspense? A mystery with lots of clues and red herrings? My book is a funny, contemporary romance set mostly in a bookstore. Didn’t get that from the original title though, did you?

So I went back to brainstorming. I wanted something fun, flirty, and romantic. I wanted a title that captured a moment from the book—a title that captured the tone and voice. Then I came up with LOVE AND LATTES and I knew I had a great title. It just felt right.  *Happy sigh*

Finally, I had a title that actually represented the book. SQUEE!

If you’re having trouble coming up with a title before you write or while you are writing your book, by all means, don’t let that keep you from putting your words on the page. Keep writing and the title will work itself out later. You can always have a working title while you write the book. I think sometimes you don’t even know what your book is really about until you finish it. So it may be impossible to come up with the perfect title until the book has been completed. If you’re still struggling with a title after you type The End and brainstorming isn’t working, ask a fellow writer, friend, spouse, whoever will listen for some suggestions. Give them the list of your brainstormed titles and see what they think. Do they like a title that you’re still unsure about? Do any of the titles make them want to read the book? Do they have any other title ideas based on your brainstorming session?

If all else fails and you still don’t have a title, don’t stress. Pick the best one you can from your list of options and send it out. Maybe that agent/editor who loves your story will have the perfect title for you.

Thank you, Lindsay, for having me on your blog today to help celebrate my debut release!

Love And Lattes:

Chase Bloom wants the one thing his wealth can't buy--a woman who loves him for who he really is and not just his money. Not only is Julia Walker beautiful, funny, and so incredibly sexy, she's also the first girl who doesn't seem to know who Chase is. Finally, after two years of playing the field Chase gets a chance to date a girl who's interested in him, not his status. As Julia waits at the bar in one of the local clubs, she wonders how much more cleavage she'll have to show to be granted a drink by a bartender with blinders on. Just when she thinks she's bound to die of thirst, the man of her dreams steps up to the bar and into her heart with a frosty Cosmo. Their casual encounter at the bar quickly escalates into an intimate encounter in the bedroom.

When Julia runs into Chase on her first day of work she's excited to finally see him again—until she learns he's her new boss. Now Julia must stop fantasizing about him even though her mind is constantly remembering his hands on her body, his lips on her eager flesh. But her fantasies fizzle when both Julia's first customer and her new manager threaten her to stay away from the boss. Chase is a player and Julia is his new toy. Should Julia heed the threats about Chase or is a chance to fall in love worth the risk?


Available Now!

And you can find Heather at:

http://heatherthurmeier.com

heatherthurmeier@gmail.com

Facebook: Heather Thurmeier, author

Twitter: @hthurmeier

Mommy's Little Secret

It's that time of the week again! Here's my offering, and don't forget to check out the other great flashers!

*Probably something disturbing in here. Just a default warning now.*

Faint sounds of a screaming horde reached Martin’s ears as he opened his dressing room door. Rolling his eyes, he cocked his head side to side and shrugged his shoulders a few times to loosen them. A door opened to his left and his sidekick stepped from her room.

“Hey, Martin,” Sheila said wearily. “You ready to do this?”

“Yeah. Let’s get it over with. These live shows are killing me.”

They chatted on their way to the stage. A cool blast of fresh air swept across them as they neared the open air coliseum, and the screaming fans became overwhelming. An opening act was just wrapping up and prancing offstage.

Martin eyed their goofy costumes down. Bright and colorful, they wore oversized bowties and sunglasses. Tremendous smiles pained their cheeks.

“Oh, man,” the lead singer yelled, obviously deafened by the loud music. “What a crowd!”

“Sure, sure,” Martin replied, and watched them walk away. The announcer came over the speakers.

“Heeeeeeeeeeeey, kids!” The crowd squealed collectively. “Are you ready for an adventure?”

“Let’s do this,” Sheila said. She fell into character and crept to the edge of the stage. She poked her head out as her mic flipped on and the crowd erupted in chaotic joy.

Three hours later, Martin and Sheila stood in the foyer of the venue, taking pictures and signing autographs for some lucky kids. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but there were still fifty kids to go who’d paid the extra money to meet the stars.

Finally, only one child remained. She approached them shyly, her cheeks flaring with red to accent her freckles. Her mother stood with a gentle hand on her hair, encouraging her forward. The woman was stunning, all sleek design and luscious curves. Martin let his eyes sweep across her in an appraisal, from her shiny brunette hair to the six inch stilettos topping off her lean legs.

He found the woman staring at him, a small smile playing at her lips. She leaned down to her daughter’s ear to whisper something, her shirt dangling low to reveal just enough cleavage to incite Martin’s imagination. He snapped back to reality as the child approached and extended a hand.

“Well, hello,” he said in a gentle voice. “What’s your name?”

“Michele.”

“That’s a very pretty name, Michele. I’m Joe.”

She smiled and the floodgates opened. Her mother pried Michele away and grinned.

“Thanks,” she said. “We’re big fans of you guys.”

Martin stood and struggled to keep his eyes on her face. “We appreciate that. She’s adorable.”

“So are you.”

He blinked. “Ah…I’m glad you think so.” With a light chuckle, Martin stepped back.

The woman slipped him a piece of folded up paper and leaned closer. “Why don’t you call me later? I’d love to get more…acquainted before you leave town.”

He glanced down at the paper and then the ring on her finger. Taking it gingerly, he slipped the number into his pocket and smiled. “Have a safe trip home.”

Three hours passed in his dressing room staring at the little piece of paper with simple block numbers and a name: Marisa. He ran his fingers over it, considering. A married mother wanted him. He’d be back in California within two days and never have to see her again.

What could be the harm?

Before he could second guess, he dialed the number and listened to a song play in lieu of a ring. Something about a dead dog and lost love and sitting on a rocking chair lamenting life. Martin grimaced.

A breathy voice answered. “Hello?”

“Marisa?”

“Yes. Is this Joe?”

He rolled his eyes. She wanted the persona. Whatever. “Yeah, it’s Joe. Listen, why don’t you meet me at the Plaza in thirty minutes? Room four fifty two.”

She laughed softly, sending a chill across his skin. “You better be ready, sweetheart.”

When the knock came at his hotel room door thirty minutes later, he wavered for a moment. But the insistent soft pound forced him to open the door. Martin drew up, shocked at the sight in front of him.

Marisa stood in the hallway, soft incandescent lights caressing her pale skin beneath the splayed open trench coat. Black stilettos led to black hose, cut off at her thigh and held up by a garter attached to a leather bodice. She carried a bag and pushed him aside as she sashayed past.

“You going to stand there staring at me all night or close the door?”

Martin swallowed and closed the door behind him. Marisa set her bag on the table with her back turned to him. A soft smile playing at her lips, she looked over her shoulder.

“You like what you see?”

He nodded. She shed the trench coat, letting it fall to the floor at her feet, and turned. Her hands behind her back, she nodded towards the bed. He laid down obediently, lust and excitement burning through his veins.

Marisa pulled some ropes from behind her back and straddled his chest. “Lie back and relax, lover,” she whispered, tying off his hands and then his feet. His breath came in rapid spurts as she ran a bandana between his teeth and tied it off behind his head. Her manicured fingernails trailed down his bare chest as she slid off him. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this opportunity.”

Martin watched as she reached into her bag, wondering what sort of fun toys she brought with her. Maybe a feather or a small flogger. He’d like that.

When she turned to face him with a sharp and gleaming dagger, his eyes widened and the lust he felt turned to fear. In one hand, she held a dagger, its malicious point tapered and gleaming. In the other, a pizza cutter with a throwing star fashioned onto its wheel. Hysteria coursing into him, Martin shook his head and began to squirm under the tight bonds.

Marisa smiled. “That’s right, Joe. You’re going to die. The question is,” she said, looking between each instrument, “which of these do you prefer?”

~End~

The other superb flashers:

West Thornhill (m/m)

http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/

Chris Quinton (m/m)

http://chrisquinton.com

Julie Hayes (m/m)

http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com

Lindsay Klug (m/f)

www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com

Victoria Blisse (m/f)

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk

Heather Lin (m/f)

http://heatherlin88.blogspot.com/

Freddy MacKay (m/m)

http://freddymackay.blogspot.com

Pender Mackie

http://pendermackie.blogspot.com

Lily Sawyer (m/m)

http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Elyzabeth M. VaLey (m/f) <<>>

http://inadreambeyond.blogspot.com/

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)

http://www.ryssaedwards.net/blog/

Blog Tour: Blood Lust by T. Lynn Tolles

Hi, all! Today, I'm hosting a CBLS tour stop for T. Lynn Tolles, author of Blood Lust. Below, you'll find a review and excerpt, as well as a link to the next tour stop! The author is also hosting a giveaway at the end of her tour! Go here to register.

Enjoy the excerpt and review and please find the buy links at the end! Thanks!

Blurb:

A surprise visit from Blake and Devon's uncle, Dominic, demanding both vampires, come home immediately to find what is ailing his son Anton, puts everyone on edge. Can vampires get sick?

Devon doesn't appreciate Dominic's demands, but agrees to fly back to Connecticut with Darby, since Blake has a job to finish up in California. Excited to meet more of Devon's family, Darby is confused by Devon's distance and coldness since Dominic's visit. In Connecticut, this only gets worse when a gorgeous Libby, Anton's estranged wife, shows up unexpectedly and seems to have her sights set on Devon. To top it all off, there's seems to be some pent up animosity, Anton and Devon have towards each other.

What is this strange power Libby has over the men in this family? And what's wrong with poor Anton? Why does it seem that Anton and Devon hate each other? These are all question Darby sets out to answer in this third volume of the Blood Series.

Review:

Darby O’Rielly is a witch who is loving her life with new vampire boyfriend, Devon. When his estranged uncle, Dominic, shows up unexpectedly she finds her life flipped upside down.

Blood Lust is the third novel in a series by Ms. Tolle. I thoroughly enjoyed the plot, which involves my favorite things: vampires. The story is well played out, and the progression is easy to follow. I also found Darby, the main character, easy to relate to and likeable at most times.

Tolle creates several poignant moments in the book which we can all relate to at one point or another in our lives. For instance, there is a scene in which there’s been some tension right after Dominic’s arrival. When Darby and Devon go to bed, he rolls over, brooding and moody. Tolle observes, quite accurately, that sometimes, “the loneliest place in the world is lying next to the one you love.” This line stuck out to me in the story and set the tone for the next few chapters, if not the rest of the book.

I did have a hard time with Darby's devotion to her boyfriend while he was being such a cruel character. This played Devon off to be malicious and narcissistic, only worried about himself and how he's suffering. Darby, meanwhile, is left to seem a weak or spineless character, in spite of her random outbursts of anger.

One thing that drew me out of the story time and again were grammatical errors. Commas where they were unwarranted and missed quotation marks threw me for a loop. I found myself having to read a sentence or paragraph a few times over to comprehend what was said in the context of the story.

Otherwise, I enjoyed Blood Lust. I just wish there had been a tough round of edits for the piece, but I’m going to give it three stars for a strong plot.

Available for purchase at the following fine institutions:

Amazon (Kindle Edition): http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Lust-Book-ebook/dp/B003OQUN1I
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/26103
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/blood-lust-t-lynne-tolles/1103309225?ean=9781453801826&itm=3&usri=blood%2blust%2bblood%2bseries

Excerpt:

Before every one started to eat the festive dinner laid out on the table, Devon stood up with his glass of wine and said, “I’d like to make a toast.”  Every one reached for their wine glass.


“Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful for family, friends and loved ones.  I want to say that I am thankful for each and every one of you in this room. You’ve all become like family to my brother Blake and me. May we always have each other to call family!”


Blake, Darby, Rowan, Dean and Sally raised their glasses and clinked them together. “To Family,” said Blake and they all repeated.  “To Family.”  They all took a sip and set their glasses down and started to dig in.


Laughing and talking ensued around the table and all seemed perfect, when the doorbell rang. Devon and Darby looked at each other surprised, as if asking each other, Is someone else expected?  Devon wiped his mouth, kissed Darby and said, “I’ll get it. You stay and enjoy.” He set his napkin down next to his plate and headed for the door.  He was about to open the door when, again, the doorbell rang. He opened it to find a very elegantly dressed man with brown eyes, brown hair, and an intimidating six foot four stature, standing there looking at him. It was Devon and Blake’s uncle Dominic.


“Dominic! What a pleasant surprise. Come in.” Devon was trying to sound pleasant, but he was truly floored at seeing him.  In all Devon’s life, he had never known his uncle to travel away from the east coast, and even more precisely, Connecticut.


He was dressed in a very distinguished manner; black hat, over coat, red scarf (for some festive color) and gloves.  It was a little overkill for the 58 degree Thanksgiving weather, but very handsome, none-the-less. He was meticulously groomed and extremely polite, at first. Devon made his introduction as he helped Dominic with his coat, hat, scarf and gloves.


He was very handsome indeed and there was definitely some family resemblance to Devon and Blake. Now closer, Darby could see that his eyes were a warm brown. His hair was slicked back and he sported a very bushy mustache.  He was at least as tall as Blake, so now Darby and Rowan knew now where Blake had gotten his height. He didn’t smile, but Darby felt if he did, he might have the kind of smile that lit up a room, like his nephews.  Darby was sure she wouldn’t be seeing it anytime soon, though.


“This is Darby O’Rielly,” Devon pointed to her near the end of the table. Devon didn’t tell his uncle this, but she and her sister Rowan came from a long line of ancestral witches.  Devon had only met the beautiful blonde woman a few months ago, but he had fallen madly in love with her almost at first sight. He continued around the table.
“Her sister Rowan,” Devon said pointing to her.  A tiny strawberry blonde woman with Caribbean blue eyes smiled and nodded. A few months ago, a horrible man named Terrence Paine, who had injected her with werewolf blood in an attempt to kill her, had kidnapped Rowan.  He had thought that Blake being a vampire, had turned her. The werewolf blood would have battled the vampire blood, leaving Rowan dead.  However, Blake had not turned her and the werewolf blood just changed her to a werewolf this last summer. Devon continued around the table


“You know Blake of course,” he said.  Blake Bloomington is Devon’s brother and a born vampire. Unlike a turned-vampire, a born-vampire is born of two vampire parents.  Though they drink blood like a turned-vampire, they do not need as much or have to feed as often, allowing them to live among humans without being detected.  Turned vampires have an almost uncontrollable lust for blood and they must feed daily and are more likely to kill their prey, as they can’t control the lust of their feeding frenzy.  A vampire that turns a human to a vampire is supposed to train them to control their cravings and to teach them how to feed without killing. More often then not, though, this doesn’t happen.


Blake looked up at his uncle in acknowledgement of the introductions to find him glaring at his hand holding Rowan’s.  Blake knew why and immediately let go of her hand.  As a young man Dominic had seen a horrific scene of a couple being mutilated and killed by a werewolf.  Blake knew his uncle could sense Rowan’s mind and her inner werewolf, as he and his uncle were very adept at telepathy and mind control.


Ignoring what he heard his uncle telepathically said to Blake, Devon continued “and this is Sally Keaton,” he said. Sally, like Rowan and Darby, was from a long line of witches.  She and her sister Rachel are very powerful witches, indeed.  Initially when Rachel and Sally came to Oljone, California, it was to cast an ancient spell that was written by one of their ancestors in an attempt to receive more power – very evil power.  The spell included kidnapping thirteen girls to invoke the powers of the Blood Moon.  Sally went along with her sister’s ranting, until the showdown with Darby, Rowan, Blake, Devon and Dean back in October when her sister turned on her and almost killed her. Darby bound both the sister’s powers until they could show they were sorry for what they had done.  Sally practically became the guardian angel to all thirteen women that she and her sister had kidnapped.  In doing so, she earned her powers back a few weeks ago.


Devon continued with, “and Dean Wolfe.” Dean is the brother of the Benjamin Wolfe, whose blood had been injected into Rowan by Terrence Paine.  Dean, like his brother, is a werewolf.  In an attempt to learn all they could about werewolves, Darby and Blake had gone to Colorado seeking Dean. At the time, they were not certain what would happen to Rowan after the injections. Rowan had spent her first full moon as a werewolf with Dean, learning about her new abilities. Devon had joined them one night and had found that werewolves and vampires were very much alike.  They both had telepathic abilities, they both had speed, and strength, and both species were often blamed for those of their breed that lost control and killed humans. The folklore behind both species was very similar too, making Devon wonder if maybe once a very long time ago if the two species were brothers.


Dean had grown up hating vampires. Blake had grown up with Dominic’s slanted opinions of werewolves.  Blake had left Rowan just before she had experienced her first full moon, in confusion and misguided expectations of her change.  In an attempt to win her back, Blake had gone to Colorado to learn all he could from Dean about werewolves.  In doing so, they had become very good friends.


Finishing up his introductions, Devon continued, “Dean and Sally are two very dear friends of ours, this is our uncle, Dominic Larson,” Devon said.


“Darby, Rowan,” Dominic paused for a brief moment, “Blake, Sally and,” he paused again and quite a disgusted look came over his face as if he could barely choke the word out, “Dean. Sorry to have interrupted your festivities.” 


He offered a bottle of very expensive champagne to Darby making a wide birth around Rowan. “I would like to borrow my nephews, just for a moment, if you don’t mind. I’ve something I must speak to them about, immediately.”


“Well sit down, Mr. Larson and join us,” Darby said and continued as she jumped out of her chair, “Let me get you a place setting and a chair.”


Dominic smiled at her gesture and said, “I’m sorry, Miss, this is a private family matter and I just couldn’t possibly stay.  You understand, don’t you?” He said this dismissively as if speaking to a servant or maid; polite, but not genuine.


Darby could see that Devon was irritated, by his uncle’s rude behavior and was about to say something, when Blake jumped out of his chair, saving them a scene and said, “Sure Dominic,” grabbing his uncle’s coat and other items and continued, “they understand.” He glanced at the others at the table and gave Devon an imploring look all the while helping his uncle with his coat. “We’ll speak in the front yard, Dominic.  Go back to your meal, Enjoy! We’ll only be a minute,” Blake said rather apologetically to Darby who was still standing in front of her seat stunned by what was happening.


Darby looked at the rest of the people at the table and said, “I’ll go get some champagne flutes, to enjoy our lovely gift,” she said excusing herself as Devon and Blake lead Dominic to the front yard.


They were almost to the black limousine, when they all finally stopped walking and Dominic turned to the boys and began to speak. “I’m in need of your help, boys.  Anton is terribly sick and I would like you both to come to Connecticut with me, to help me determine what it is that is ailing him.”


“I’m very sorry Anton is sick, but that does not excuse your. . .” Devon started and Blake interrupted.


“What Devon is trying to say, Dominic, is that we are not boys any longer. We have lives, here; jobs, commitments, significant others.  We can’t just up and leave.”


“Yes, I can see you’ve hooked up with a lively bunch of hooligans. Eating at a table with witches and werewolf swine. How could you? So what, you with your, Darby girl, and you with the werewolf cross breed creature?  Both witches, I presume?”


“Yes.  I am with Rowan, but you don’t understand, Dominic,” Blake said reluctantly.


His eyes grew large as saucer.  “How despicable, boy. Didn’t I teach you anything? Didn’t you listen to a word I told you? Your mother must be turning in her grave in shame. We are a family of noble vampire blood.  What a disgrace to your heritage. Vile. Disgusting.”


“That’s enough Dominic.  You are wrong about werewolves, like many are wrong about vampires.  You are mistaken. .” Devon defended.


“How dare you.  I am a professor of science. I most definitely am not mistaken.  I saw, with my own two eyes, the horrific act of a werewolf.  They are animals, not people.”


“Your wrong, Dominic, very wrong.  These are good and decent people.  They’ve risked their lives for us on numerous occasions..” Blake tried to explain.


“Don’t bother explaining Blake.  He won’t change his mind. He has his view, and that is the only view he’ll ever see,” Devon said.


“I see your manners have been severely degraded by the company you keep.  I demand you come to Connecticut immediately.  Maybe you’ll find your manners there and remember your place in society.”


“I’m not leaving. Not for you and most definitely not for Anton.”


“Oh grow up boy.  That was ages ago.  Let bygones be bygones already. I won’t take no for an answer.  You will both march in there pack your things and come home.”


“Connecticut is not our home. This is our home, Oljone, California. Right here, a bunch of great friends that are waiting for us to continue our Thanksgiving feast,”  Devon said as he turned and headed back to the house.  


“Wait Devon,” Blake said.  Devon stopped and slowly turned around. “Dominic, won’t you please join us for dinner.  Get to know these people. They are like family to us.”


Devon said, “Don’t bother wasting your breath Blake. He’s already made up his mind about them.”


“It’s Thanksgiving.  You said yourself, Devon, that Thanksgiving is a ‘time to be thankful for family, friends and loved ones’. Dominic and Anton are our only blood relatives.”


“Fine.  You’re right, Blake, I did say that. Dominic, would you please join us for dinner?”


“Thank you for the offer but NO.  I can’t. No, I won’t sit at a table with two werewolves. I am staying at the Ritz-Carlton in San Francisco.  Here are your tickets.  We are leaving 10:50 A.M. tomorrow. I expect to see you on the plane.” He handed each of them a first class ticket. 


“Whoa, wait a minute. I can’t go Dominic.  I have to work. I have a project due, deadlines, I just can’t up and leave,” Blake implored.


“Fine, you will join us, when you are done with your commitments.”


“I’m not going either, Dominic.  This is my home, here with Darby.  There is no love lost between Anton and I. I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me any more than I want to see him.  I’m sorry he’s sick, but for God’s sake, he’s a vampire, he’ll heal.  I’m sure he will be fine.”


“No Devon.  He won’t. He is rapidly declining. You must help me. I demand that you help me.”


“You demand that I help you?  There’s nothing I can do for him.  I’m not a doctor, you are. I’m a software engineer. So’s Blake.  What could we possibly do for him?”

“You’re his family.  You can be his family.  Maybe he will confide in you.” 


“What makes you think if he hasn’t confided in you, that he would do such a thing with me or Blake?”


“Because.. you are his age. You speak his language. You’re more understanding, like your mother was.”


“Not where he’s concerned,” Devon muttered under his breath.


“You must do this!” Dominic was yelling and turning red in the face, pounding his fist in his other hand and tears were welling up in his ferociously angry eyes.


Blake said, “Hang on, now. You both need to cool off a bit.  Dominic, you’re going to blow a gasket.  Relax.  Devon, if Darby went with you to Connecticut, would you be willing to go and at least talk to Anton?  See if maybe he would confide in you?  You never know.  And if he’s really that sick, don’t you think one of us should be there?  We’re family, after all.”


“If Darby were politely invited to come, and treated appropriately, yes, I may consider going to Connecticut,” Devon said aversely.


“Dominic, would you be willing to accept Darby as a guest in your home, treating her as such, for Devon?”


He mulled this over and took a little too long in doing so for Devon’s taste, but he reluctantly agreed saying, “as long as her mutant sister does not come. Yes, I would accept her as a guest in my home providing she behaved in a proper manner.”


“What the he. . “ Devon started. Blake could see he was about to blow his top.


Blake interrupted Devon and said, “See, I knew this could be worked out. Now, would you at least join us for a glass of champagne and invite Darby properly, Dominic?”


He grumbled something inaudible and nodded his head in acceptance. They walked back up the walkway and up the porch stairs opening the door to an absolutely quiet room of guests sitting at the table, but not eating. 


Darby had brought out 7 glasses and all but one was filled. Blake picked up the glass, filling it, and handed it to his stern unhappy looking uncle.  Blake grabbed his glass and raised it as he had done earlier.  Everyone else followed along grabbing their glasses and holding them in the air.  Blake said, “To Family!” They all repeated, “To Family,” but not as enthusiastically as the first time.  Dominic downed is glass and said.  “Miss Darby, I would like to invite you as a guest with my nephew Devon, to my home in Connecticut.  I would be most honored if you would oblige me this request.”


Shocked and surprised, Darby answered, “I’d be delighted. Thank you, Mr. Larsen.”


With that, and the feeling he had fulfilled his obligatory duty, he spun on his heals and was out the door before anyone could say a word.


Please make sure and stop by to visit Ms. Tolles on the next tour stop at http://closeencounterswiththenightkind.blogspot.com.


She can also be found at her website, blog, facebook, twitter, goodreads, email, youtube, and you can get a kindlegraph!

Six Sentence Sunday

Picking up from where we last left Mel:

"Everybody calls me Mel," I said.

Levi cocked an eyebrow. "Are you even a little scared, Mel?" My name rolled off his tongue like liquid velvet.

"Oh, I'm terrified," I replied with a nervous laugh. "I've probably peed myself, but I'm too scared to care."

There you have it. Hope everybody's enjoying their weekend!