Sample Saturday!!

One of my very favorite passages from RYDER ON THE STORM, is this one describing the aftermath of Storm's first vision.  Clearly, her mother did not take it well but Aunt Trin (who would become a major influence in Storm's life) was non-plussed. Aunt Trin is actually one of my favorite characters and likely to have a spin off novella or novel. I could have some fun with her!

My excerpt from RYDER ON THE STORM:

Storm looked at her mother, mascara dripping down her cheeks like a sad circus clown, wild desperation and sadness warring behind her eyes. Aunt Trin had spoken up at just the right moment, “Sophie, luv, it will be fine. You knew it was a better chance than not that our Storm would receive the Sight as well. She is taking it better than you. Why don’t you go put on some tea and I will figure out what she saw?”
Mother had nodded obligingly before disappearing into the kitchen. Aunt Trin had turned to her, those lovely emerald eyes flashing with excitement, “She did not take that well did she, luv?”

Storm suppressed an eye roll and forced herself to shake her head instead. As always with her aunt, the words flowed easily. Without emotion she relayed what had played out in the vision and Aunt Trin listened in earnest. She reclined back against the arm of the sofa and folded her hands together, the enormous jeweled rings clicking like castanets. Aunt Trin and her mother looked so much alike, from their creamy, clear complexions to their wide emerald eyes, but Storm marveled at how opposite their personalities ended up. Storm sighed as her mother sobbed loudly in the kitchen - very loudly since the dining room and a hallway stood between them.

Sample Saturday

It began with tragedy - the brutal murder of Storm's aunt.

An excerpt from RYDER ON THE STORM....

Storm sighed and brushed the memory away. Looking around, she realized everyone had left. Storm was the last one standing – in more ways than one. Aunt Trin was gone. Aunt Trin who taught Storm about the visions, how to track and interpret them, and most importantly how to recover from the pain of one. Aunt Trin who’d taught her the craft and raised Storm after her mother gave up on life. Aunt Trin who was being lowered into the ground, the grinding of gears echoing through the graveyard. The stargazer lilies on the top of her coffin were wilting in the heat. Sweat dripped off Storm’s brow. She wondered briefly if the sheen gave the appearance of tears. Trin would have liked that. The tears simply would not come, they never had. Most people thought her heartless. She didn’t understand it, couldn’t change it, wasn’t even sure if she wanted to. Aunt Trin had told her time and again that there was a reason for her emotional paralysis. Storm just wished she could summon a few tears for the only person she’d ever cared about.
Two caretakers emerged from a truck with shovels and began filling the grave; burly men with sweat stains under their arms that spread in all directions across the gray polyblend jumpsuits. The larger man even had sweat lines down his back. Storm refrained from sneering as she approached them, her heels sinking into the soft soil with each step.
“Could I have another moment, please?” She loosed the belt of her jacket revealing the navy sheath dress beneath. As expected the caretakers’ eyes bulged slightly at her defined curves and nodded in that stunned manner Storm had become accustomed to long ago. Once they were out of sight, she knelt beside the grave and took a handful of dirt from the pile. With the other hand Storm reached into the pocket ofher jacket and withdrew a vial. She cast them both into the grave, stood up, brushed herself off, and nodded toward the caretakers to proceed. Storm felt their eyes on her as she walked away and pulled her jacket tightly around her, in spite of the sweltering heat.
In the driver’s seat of her VW Beetle, Storm exhaled. It was done. Everything she’d been asked to do. She was free. Sort of. The visions would still plague her. Unless she could break the curse. Storm started her car and flicked the radio on, this one’s for you Aunt Trin, as Jim Morrison blew through the speakers with her namesake song.

Sample Saturday

Just a little excerpt from LIGHT MY FIRE (Emerald Seer II).

“That won’t be necessary, I am sure it is spectacular, Ang. Remember, you promised to surprise me with all of those decisions?” Storm relaxed as Angeline’s magic flowed through her and numbing the pain as it spread. She really didn’t care to go through all of the bags, not now. Kell seemed relieved as he deposited the bags on the desk. Pollux followed suit and then took one of Lucian’s glasses, downed it in one gulp, and set it back in his hand.

“Pour me another you thieving Scot.” Lucian glared up at him. “You should know better than to touch a man’s scotch. What is your problem?”

“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps it was the banshee attack in the parking lot on the way in or the troll confrontation on the way back. Maybe it was because Call of Duty was sold out. Or, most likely, it was the agonizing two hours we spent looking at baby clothes that all look exactly the same. Take your pick. I needed a drink, you had two.” Pollux shrugged, upon seeing Lucian’s reddening face quickly added, “I’ll get you two fresh pours if you down that one.”

“You do that.” Lucian emptied his other glass and deposited them in Pollux’s outstretched hands. “Pour my way too, do not be stingy.”

Happy Mother's Day!

Many happy wishes to Storm Sullivan and all super Moms everywhere who have the hardest and most rewarding job in the world!!

Picture courtesy of http://bootiquefitness.com/happy-mothers-day-2012/

Sample Saturday Excerpt

Now that the series is done, I want to revisit some of my favorite excerpts!!

This is from LIGHT MY FIRE, the second Emerald Seer installment and gives a picture of the dynamic between Lucian, Ryder, and Storm that I loved so much.  


“Alright, let’s walk.” Storm knew Lucian and Ryder both had plenty to say. She still didn’t feel threatened. Not that she was taking anything lightly where her child was concerned, but come on, Willow Wood had become the Fort Knox of the supernatural world, she couldn’t think of anyone or anything more protected than her at the moment. Not that she appreciated the idea of being on lockdown, but it didn’t have to be that way either. Storm looped an arm around Ryder’s waist, cherishing the electric jolt that came with his touch, and followed Lucian into the orchard.

“It really is not that bad.” Okay, so she really sounded like a child.

“Storm, it is that bad. It is worse than that bad.” Lucian plucked an apple off a tree and bit into it. How could he be hungry? He chewed slowly and watched her. She swore the fire flickered again but Lucian just stood there, eating the apple and watching her. Ryder remained silent, his hand settled at the small of her back as they leaned against the old wooden fence. She couldn’t get anything off of Ryder, just images of her, how he saw their child, shadowy figures watching along the edges of each scene. Finally, Ryder exhaled.

“Tell her, Lucian.”

Lucian tossed the apple core into the nearest compost barrel. “Storm, most lovely Emerald, the brethren excommunicated all of us. The notices arrived while we were out. They refuse to sanction your union with Ryder and have declared the Scots, Roane, Ryder, and I to be traitors. We are fair game for all races to capture, hold, and torture as they see fit. They have started collecting everybody linked to us and are attempting to shut down Ryder’s businesses as we speak. Fortunately, they cannot touch Durstine since I signed it over to Federick, you remember him, right? The bartender? Since he still lives as a human and never officially became a familiar they cannot touch him without interfering with human law and apparently they are unwilling to go that far - yet. Frederick will settle into the manor within the week but the Scots are going tonight to gather what we need.”

Storm’s world came to a halt. Dammit! What were they all thinking? She suddenly felt small, and worse, guilty. Gut-wrenchingly guilty. Her voice came out much squeakier than she intended. “You should have gone when they called, Luc. Why did you stay?” For the thousandth time in six months Storm resented her emotions, wished she could put the genie back in the bottle and return to the unfeeling wonder she used to be. Then Ryder squeezed her hand, such a simple thing, but one that set the world right again. Giving up her emotions would mean giving up him. How could she do that?

“Storm, I am only going to say this once for very obvious reasons. I care for you, I think you are amazing and what you have done for Ryder is nothing short of a miracle. When I first arrived here six months ago I told Ryder I would back him and I keep my word.” The intensity of his gaze dissipated, replaced with a sarcastic one, “Besides, I love a good fight and this could prove to be the fight of a lifetime.”

Ryder rolled his eyes and Storm relaxed into a giggle which erupted into a full fit of laughter.

End of the Night and a lil housekeeping

End of the Night's release was not as successful as I'd hoped in part due to Ammy's tech issues.  The few days after the release more than made up for it though!  Thank you to everyone who purchased copies the first few days (and since!) and a special thank you to the fabulous Doug Meeks for taking the time to read and review my series (if you haven't read the reviews they are amazing - Doug's Review of END OF THE NIGHT).  I am working on the paperback version of End of the Night and an Emerald Seer boxed set with some bonus materials ;)

I am working hard to narrow down my next project but I really would like to revisit my YA series so I may just do some short stories varying from PNR to Steampunk in the interim.

 Stay tuned for more!

Sample Saturday - Opening scene - END OF THE NIGHT

As part of Sample Saturday, I am pleased to present the opening scene from END OF THE NIGHT, the final installment of my Emerald Seer Series now available on Amazon.... 

Beep, Beep, Beep.

Storm groaned and rolled over, right into PacMan’s back.  “PacMan, you bad boy.”  She halfheartedly mumbled the reprimand and attempted to push his body to no avail.  “Fine.  Be that way.”  Slapping the snooze button to silence the alarm, Storm draped an arm over her dog and snuggled into the short soft fur, relishing the gentle rise and fall of his chest. 

Beep, Beep, Beep.

PacMan snorted and licked Storm’s face.  “Alright,alright, I’m getting up.  I don’t know why you’re so put out.  You get to lay around in bed all day.”  Pushing off the bed, Storm reached down and flipped the alarm to off before breaking into a yawning stretch that was highlighted with a serious of soft cracks and pops as her spine realigned.   For a second, Storm swore she heard a baby crying and paused at its closeness.  She mentally chastised herself and shrugged.  Must be the neighbors.  The apartment walls were paper thin after all. 

Stepping into the shower, Storm stood for several minutes under the steaming hot water, washing away the grime from the day before and the vague discomfort following the vision she’d had.  The vision.  It was an ugly one and somewhat painful if truth be told.  She’d made the call to the precinct from her disposable cell and hoped they nabbed the sicko in time.  Part of her wanted to call Dan and Shane to ask about it but then they would wonder how she knew.  Every time Storm had the same internal argument but ultimately waited for the news story.  She rinsed off and stepped out, wrapping herself in a worn bath towel.  PacMan sat in the doorway of the bathroom staring at her in his usual concerned way.  Storm called him a worry wart because he always appeared to be frowning at her. 

“I think I talk to you too much, boy.”  Storm turned from her dog and wiped off the mirror.  A man’s face looked back at her.  She blinked, rubbed her eyes and wiped at the mirror again but only saw her own reflection.  “Yes, definitely.  I am losing it.”  Storm grumbled to herself and went about methodically combing the tangles from her hair before neatly plaiting it.  With the towel secured tightly around her body she slipped back into the bedroom and flipped the television on to the morning news.  Sifting through her wardrobe, Storm half listened to the weather and traffic.  By the time the main anchor re-took the screen she’d slipped into a pair of black pin-striped pants and her least ratty white lace camisole.  The story Storm had been waiting for came on just as she was slipping into her emerald green satin blouse. 

“This morning, the sole suspect in the serial rape case has been apprehended and remains in police custody.” Bob Roberts announced in the serious tone he saved for such stories.  “Officials say they received information pointing them to the home of one Aaron Michaels who has been working at local restaurants for the last several years.  Allegedly Mr. Michaels has been selecting victims while on shift as a server at some of the most popular restaurants in town.”

“I think the town can feel safer now that he’s in custody, don’t you Bob?”  Erin Calmes, the heavily made-up, eye candy co-anchor tilted her head toward Bob with an overly sweet smile on her too pink lips. 

“I’d say they’re sleeping together, wouldn’t you PacMan?”  Storm straightened her blouse, relieved that the cops had followed her tip off and captured the sociopath.   Now she could focus on the more pressing task at hand, something she’d put off for far too long.  “How do I look boy?”

END OF THE NIGHT is live and ready for reading

END OF THE NIGHT on Amazon