Friday, June 28, 2013

Samples....hmmmm....what to sample this week....

It is getting harder and harder to pick samples.  I don't want to give away the big secrets and surprises and I don't feel that my work in progress is quite ready for a sneak peek but I will tell you that one Emerald Seer character is about to have his story told.    Reaching into a new genre, I will be telling Dorian's story as a Steampunk novel/novella.  Details to be revealed over via Sample Saturday.  In the meantime, how about a  little reminder of one of my very favorite Emerald Seer characters.

From the Emerald Seer novella, Whiskey, Mystics, and Men, allow me to present one of my favorite encounters between Angeline and Dorian.....

“Is he awake, Watson?”  Angeline stepped into the foyer and set her bag on the antique side table.  She tossed her keys and phone on top and gave the small man a quick hug.

“Yes, Miss Angeline.  He is in the lab.  I will bring the food and drinks to you there.”  Watson lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper.  “I think you will find him much changed.  Please be kind.”

“Always, Watson.”  Angeline assured Dorian’s most loyal familiar.  Contented, he nodded and gestured toward the back of the loft.  She made her way down the back stairs to Dorian’s lab. 

“Dammit!”  Dorian’s voice carried down the hall with a pungent odor of burnt plastic.  Angeline could hear the strain in his voice and for a moment considered walking back out the way she came.  “Angeline?  Is that you?”  Too late.  Damn vampires and their heightened senses.

“Yes, I desperately needed a break and thought maybe we could watch an old movie.  You still owe me a showing of Casablanca.”  Angeline entered the room, mentally preparing for whatever she may find.  Dorian stood at the far side of the lab hunched over a microscope.  A few burners were lit under bubbling beakers and a pair of white boards covered with scribblings blocked the genus maps along the back wall.  Watson could not have prepared her for the change in Dorian.  Sporting a filthy lab coat over stained lounge pants and a faded white t-shirt he barely resembled the vampire she remembered.  His hair hung limp and greasy and dark purple circles beneath his eyes emphasized the pallor of his skin.   If a vampire could look tired Dorian would be the poster child for exhaustion.  Angeline had to force a smile to disguise her shock.

“Don’t look at me like that, fairy girl.  Do not lie to me either.  You are lousy at it.”  Dorian turned back to his microscope.  “I am not in the mood for company.  Please see yourself out.”

“Like hell, Dorian.”  Okay, so sweet and flirtatious would not work.  Angeline crossed the room with purpose and grabbed his arm, in hindsight not the best idea but it got his attention.  Dorian wheeled to face her, his face etched with fury.  Angeline gritted her teeth and held his gaze. “We are not going to fight now.  You are going to stop this madness and join me for a meal.  I need my friend and you clearly need me so get over yourself already.”

“How dare you talk to me like that?”  Dorian’s voice rose, his pinhole pupils disappeared completely and his fangs elongated.  She’d seen that before but in a much different context.

“How dare I?  How dare you?  When is the last time you have fed?  Look at you!  How can you help anybody like this?  I thought you were tougher than this, Dorian.  Snap out of it!”  Angeline grasped Dorian at the shoulders, ignoring how thin they felt.  “I am not going to pity you; we cannot afford pity right now.  You know what is coming and you are useless like this.”  She stood there, glaring at him with all the resolve she could muster and waited.  Time seemed to stop but for Dorian’s face changing expression – fury, fear, confusion – and finally his pupils returned, fangs retracted, and he focused on her.


“Yes.  Now, are you quite through your hysterics?”  Sliding a hand to the side of his face, Angeline forced him to keep eye contact.  “Watson called me.  He said Gregoire left.”

Dorian cringed as if slapped.  “Yes.  He did.”

“Okay, so he left.  You have lived how many centuries?  Fought how many times with each other?”  Angeline knew there was more to Dorian and Gregoire but she would deal with their issues later.  “Dorian, let’s go upstairs.  Let me help you clean up, we can watch a movie and you can tell me whatever you want or we can sit in silence.  But this has to stop.”

“Will you stay tonight, Angeline?”  Dorian seemed himself again, or closer to himself than he’d been in a while.  Wrapping her up in his arms, Dorian held her close for a long moment. 

“Will you stop this crazy mission of yours?”  Angeline stepped back and arched an eyebrow quizzically.

“It is not crazy.  It could be crucial. It could –“ Silencing him with her fingers on his lips, Angeline gave a warning look.  The vampire nodded in agreement.  “Perhaps a break would give me some clarity.

“Or, perhaps I could fill in one of the blanks for you over dinner?”  Angeline knew part of the hybrid mystery but did not realize Dorian’s level of obsession and admittedly had been rather caught up with other things.  She took Dorian’s hand and gently guiding him upstairs to his elaborate bathroom.  He silently allowed her to start the shower and lay out clean clothes.  “I will be waiting downstairs to tell you what I know but only if you are clean, groomed, and dressed like the Dorian I know.  Deal?”

“Agreed, fairy girl.  Well played.” 

“Learned from the best, vampire.”

Tuesday, June 25, 2013


Yep, yes, indeed they do.  And to show how much authors think of readers, the illustrious Tammie Clarke Gibbs has compiled this amazing emagazine chock full of great stories and insider info from some incredibly fun sources.  So, kick back, prop your feet up and grab a drink while you peruse this ROCKIN' emag!

Friday, June 21, 2013

Sample Excerpt - RYDER ON THE STORM


I decided to go for something a little steamier this week because of a review RYDER ON THE STORM received that has gotten some attention lately - much to my chagrin.   I believe that everybody has a right to their opinion and I certainly have my own, but I also believe that reviews should be fair.  So, I am putting this sample forth for people to make their own determinations.  The review in question indicated that there are a "number of extremely graphic sex scenes" that "push the boundary of pornography pretty hard" and the word "smut" was used.  I have received some emails about this with strong suggestions (I'm being polite here) that I put a label on my books and shift them to the erotica section.  I was pretty taken aback by this sudden surge of activity over this one review, especially since I strongly disagree with the review and the subsequent suggestions.  These people are of course entitled to their opinions and I am not seeking to have the review removed or even responding to these emails, but I cannot be silent on something that I fear may be affecting my potential readers.  I worked very hard on the love scenes in my Emerald Seer series.  There are words I refused to use and I kept their number to a minimum (just two love scenes in RYDER ON THE STORM).  As for their explicit nature, you be the judge, this is the first love scene in RYDER:

Dammit.  She actually regretted hitting them.  Now Storm wished she’d hit them harder and more than once.  How could they betray her like this?  She planted her hands on the steering wheel and exhaled in the irritated fashion she’d recently developed.  For a fleeting moment, an image of Trin doing the same exact thing, popped in her head.  A calm washed over her and it registered that Dan and Shane were oblivious to the confrontation she’d had with the Immortal earlier in the day.  They had no clue that her body reacted so intensely to him.  It really couldn’t be their fault.  Dammit.  Still, she didn’t need a baby-sitter.  That they should have known.  Ha.  She could be angry with them.
The driver’s side door swung open.  Storm whipped her head around, face held in a mask of fury and irritation in hopes of disguising the excited flutter she felt inside.  There he stood, hairs falling loose from the leather throng, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.  His face betrayed his confusion for a moment and then he regained that smug expression she’d seen in the alley.
“I have been instructed to accompany you home as protection.”  That smooth, velvety voice with the tinge of steel, dammit, he even knows he is suave.
“Just because you are guarding me like a child does not mean you get to drive my car.  I can absolutely take care of myself.”   Storm fought to keep her hands on the wheel; she wanted to fold her arms across her chest to drive the point home but thought better of it.  She wouldn’t put it past him to just remove her from the car or transplant her in the passenger seat.  “If you are coming, you’d better get in.  The trunk works for me.”
He shook his head and shut the door.  In seconds, the Immortal climbed in to the passenger side and buckled in.  “What have I done to offend you?”  His voice seemed sad somehow.  Dammit, now she felt guilt.  This feeling thing really sucked. 
Storm chose to ignore him.  She started the Hummer and pulled away, grateful that Shane had fought for the pull through spot.  Her maneuverability skills in the Beetle would not likely translate to the Hummer and it would have been a great embarrassment in front of Him.  She flipped on the radio and turned it up.  Before she registered the song, her companion began laughing. 
Storm reached over and turned the music down again, “What is so funny?”
“Oh, now you want to talk.  Quid pro quo, Miss Sullivan, you answer my question first.”  That smug expression again.  Gods he could be the most beautiful man ever created.  His eyes twinkled mischievously.  Storm looked back to the road, pushing the butterflies in her stomach aside, wading through the frustration over the encounter in the alley, and worded her response carefully.
“I could have handled him myself.  I am not without talent.  Not only did you interrupt what should have been an easy bust, you beat the freak down and referred to me as your woman.  Does any part of that sound endearing to you?  Hmmm?”  She stole a sidelong glance at him as he rearranged his hair, replacing the loose strands in the leather throng.
“Point taken, Miss Sullivan.  Please, tell me what did you plan to do to him?” 
Anger flared again, he was mocking her.  She decided to play it differently, throw him off his suave game.  “No, it is your turn.  Why did you start laughing at me?”  He didn’t respond.  She turned to look, ready to berate him some more when she realized he’d turned the music back up and pointed at the radio.  She tilted her head and listened.  “Riders on the Storm” by the Doors.  “Har. Har.  You know Aerosmith too?  They did a little song called Dream On.”
“Touché, Miss Sullivan.  I simply found it ironic and entertaining.”  Ryder paused, started to speak, and then apparently thought better of it.  The rest of the ride to Willow Wood passed in tension-packed silence.  Storm nearly suffocated in her desire, the fluttering in her gut multiplied and spread to every bit of her body.  Her skin thrummed with excitement.  Perhaps this part of feeling could become pleasant if she could somehow learn to control it. 
She pulled into the garage, turned off the engine, and slipped out of the Hummer.  Certainly Ryder would be interested in the cars, what man wouldn’t?  She pointed out the various models as they walked by, Ryder nodded appreciatively but she felt his eyes on her the entire time.  It should have been unsettling instead of exhilarating.  Dammit.  This could get bad.  Dan said it would take at least two hours to book the freaky waiter and she knew the precinct was at least a forty-five minute drive from her house.  She could get into a lot of trouble in that time.
Storm led Ryder into the kitchen.  “Would you like something to drink?  They guys stocked beer and wine in the fridge and I have coffee and tea.  What’s your poison?”
“You are still angry with me.”  Ryder did not word it as a question.  She felt her shoulders drop in response.  He would not be letting this go.
“Yes.  Look, don’t take it personal.  I am new to this feeling thing.”  Nicely done Storm, make the guy think you are an even bigger freak.  Fabulously endeavored. 
“Feeling thing?  I am afraid I don’t follow.”  Dammit.  She turned to face him.  Ryder was studying her, his expression a mix of want and confusion.  Great.   Why couldn’t it just be want?  She could work with him wanting her, confusion over wanting her was a different matter altogether.
“Come on, you Immortals have been watching me, you have to know.”  Storm didn’t buy it.  Dan had warned her that they were watching her but for some reason they trusted this one not to harm her.  Something about him had sold them on her being safe in his care. 
“Enlighten me, Miss Sullivan, please.”  He didn’t know.  Oh, that voice.  She wanted to wrap herself in his voice, she wanted him whispering in her ear, she wanted – stop.  Focus. 
“My Aunt Trin bound my emotions when I was a child.  She died.  Spell broken.  Emotions raging like a teenage girl in the throes of PMS.  I am learning to control them, but, well, I am new at this.”  She pulled a bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge.  “I choose wine.  Would you like a glass?”
“I would, thank you.”  He crossed to the breakfast bar and sat on one of the stools while she uncorked the bottle.  “Why did your aunt bind your emotions?”
Storm focused a little too intently on pouring the wine.  She felt his eyes on her.  Gods, she didn’t want to go here, she didn’t want him to know how messed up her life had gotten, or that she could steal his immortality if the legends were correct.   Storm set the wine bottle down, it made a little clink on the granite counter top.  She took a glass in each hand and walked around to sit on the stool beside Ryder.  Their fingers brushed along the thin stem as she handed him the glass.  That same electricity flared, she swore they actually glowed for a moment, dammit, that would be her emotions flaring.  Ryder’s eyes flared at the touch as well.  She certainly did not imagine that. 
“I don’t know why.”  Storm looked down, not sure if she was more saddened by the absence of his touch or the lie she’d just told him.  He moved slightly causing their knees to brush and this time her knee truly glowed. 
“I seem to have an interesting effect on you, Miss Sullivan.”  Again, not a question.  She felt a flush rising in her cheeks and that damnable fluttering in her stomach intensified and spread downward.  His fingers were on her chin, gently attempting to lift her eyes to meet his.  “Storm, look at me.”  She did.  How could she not?  It wasn’t exactly an order but every inch of her body reacted to the velveteen words.  Several strands of hair fell across his face as Ryder studied, searching her face for something.  She smiled awkwardly, embarrassed by the glow building around her. 
His lips met hers, softly at first and then more intense as he took away her wine glass and set it on the counter with a clink.   Then she was in his arms, crushed against him as he kissed along her jawline, down her neck and back up.  Ryder pulled back and looked into her eyes, his flashed blue to green to silver and back again, excitement flaring and mixing with a hunger she’d never seen before.  He kissed her again, tugging at her bottom lip as he withdrew.  Storm rose to her tiptoes and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his wherever possible.  Her body raged internally, the emotions rumbling through her like waves on the beach.  She kissed him, pushed her tongue gently into his mouth.  He groaned in response, a throaty sound that sent a new wave of flutters through her stomach.  Ryder grabbed her legs and wrapped them about his waist.  She realized what came next, a flicker of concern flashed through her mind and then his lips were fluttering along her neck and passion hit full on once more. 
Ryder carried her out of the kitchen to the dining room and placed her on the edge of the massive table.  Sliding his hands down her sides he masterfully unzipped her dress and slipped it off her shoulders to her waist without altering the rhythm of baby kisses he simultaneously peppered along her collarbone.  Storm reached down and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and used her feet to maneuver them down.  Ryder wore nothing underneath.  She instinctively slid to the edge of the table allowing her hemline to slide up.  Ryder pulled back, looked at the bunched up dress, frowned and ripped it open along the side seam.  He cast it aside and looked down on her, his eyes two strange silvery pools.  She felt suddenly self-conscious in nothing more than her bikini undies and lacy black bra.  Ryder tore her bra open in the middle, his hands palming her breasts and then his lips found her left nipple, a soft suckling sent a fire through her.   He shredded her underwear and switched to her right nipple. 
Ryder pulled back and found her face; he gave her a sexy half smile and pulled his own shirt off before falling on her again.  He laid a barrage of kisses from her earlobe down her neck, between her breasts, down her abdomen, to the crook of her leg and hip, along her inner thigh and back up.  Storm moaned in response and he entered her causing her to cry out.  Ryder moaned and drove into her, his hands holding her hips in place.  She grasped at the edge of the table but couldn’t quite reach, her body moving in rhythm with his.  Storm glowed golden and she didn’t care, all that mattered in her world stood over her, in her.  His silver eyes never broke contact with hers.  The flutter inside built as Storm panted and moaned.  Something was coming, growing with each thrust.  The tingling sensation heightened, more and more intense, until it exploded from her core in a tidal wave of emotion and power that lit the entire dining room.  Storm swore she was floating.  Ryder cried out her name and then fell on her, his body warm and sweaty, smelling of spice and salt and him. 
They lay like that, half on the table, half off for what seemed an eternity.  Ryder rose and looked on her again; his eyes still that gorgeous silvery color.  He smiled.  She couldn’t help but smile in return.  The glow had subsided some but her body still felt electrified. 

Ryder broke the silence, “Well, that was eye-opening.  Miss Sullivan, you are something more than human.”

Friday, June 14, 2013

Sample Saturday Sneak Peek!

Ryder on the Storm, the first installment of the Kindle Bestselling Emerald Seer Series, is 99 cents for a short time longer - get your copy now and begin the quest with the last Sullivan Seer!

An excerpt from Ryder on the Storm:


“Guys, there are three boxes left in the apartment, since I have handled the last several loads while you two stood here bickering I am going to call it a day.  I am taking Pac Man and heading over to the manor.  You don’t have to lock up but please don’t take too much longer, alright?  I promised the landlord I’d be out by dark.”  Storm dropped the box on the ground next to the others and slipped into her Beetle where Pac Man waited.  He was already drooling, his tongue hanging out to one side and his little eyes flickering beneath their lids.  She’d found the pit bull at a humane society in Alabama.  They had tried to talk her out of it because he’d been abused and was scheduled to be put down due to his ferocity.  Apparently nobody could get close to him.  Still, Storm had a vision about the dog saving her and checked animal shelters in every place she lived.  It took eight months but she knew him the moment she saw him.  When she approached his cage, Pac Man stopped growling and started to whimper.  As long as Storm stayed with him, Pac Man allowed the staff to check him over and administer shots.  They released him to her care with just a little magical coercion.  So, Pac Man stayed with her. 
Storm cranked the air conditioning and that spurred him to sit up and sniff at the vent.  He finally noticed her presence.  “How do you intend to save me if you don’t even know when I am around?”  She reached over and rubbed his head.  “Let’s go home buddy.”

Dan and Shane were still arguing as she pulled away.  She decided to curse them if they didn’t make it to the manor by dark.  That seemed fair.  Thankfully she packed her toiletries and other necessities in the Beetle.  A cold shower sounded perfect.  Bangs stuck to her forehead, tank top clinging to her back and wait, she could actually smell herself.  Wonderful, surely Dan and Shane will find this attractive.  Maybe it is best they take a little longer.  I will never hear the end of it if they smell me like this.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Sample Saturday and more!

Busy, busy, busy.  That's me!  Between my kids' birthdays (less than two weeks apart), my growing business (Kharmic Chaos) and attending Grove City Wine & Arts Festival this weekend I have been just shy of losing my mind.  But, that's quite alright and completely worth it!  I will put some pictures up when I can but for now, an excerpt from Whiskey, Mystics, and Men, my Emerald Seer Novella.  This particular passage shows that Angeline was not always the prim, proper fairy.

“Go! Go! Go! Go!”  The thunder of chants echoed through the fog of her mind but she kept sucking at the tap.  Both hands were going numb from holding the thin rim of the keg but Angeline needed more to drown out the noise.  Finally she signaled the two weres supporting her ankles and found herself right side up again.  The frat house erupted in cheers and her new sisters flooded Angeline from all sides. 
“Wow, Ang, that was amazing.”
“I think it’s a new record.”
“Ang, you are unreal, girl.”
Angeline took in the praise, shook off her conscience, and smiled at a dashing half breed across the room.  She caught him eyeing her more than once since arriving.  Handsome in an unconventional way, by no means the most attractive guy there.  Angeline smiled seductively and flipped her hair to expose the graceful slope of her neck.  Turning slightly to keep one eye on the half breed, Angeline laughed with her sisters nonchalantly.  He continued to watch her, sipping beer from the red plastic cup, his eyes blazing red on occasion betraying his fire sprite nature.  The wild auburn hair and sharp features suddenly made sense.  Angeline worked to refrain from licking her lips. 
“Girl, that is not a good plan.  He looks like he could eat you up.”  Val slid up beside her and thrust a cup in her hand. 
“Val, you are incorrigible.” Angeline took a big gulp of beer though her stomach protested.
“I can see the old Angeline coming out and you know what that means, but promise me you will stay away from that guy.” Val’s eyebrows knitted together in concern.
Angeline pinched her friends arm, perhaps a bit harder than necessary.  “Now is not the time to discuss this.  You saw that keg stand; I am far from playing it safe.  Risk taking abound – but that does not mean I have to bang the half breed or anybody else for that matter.”

“Look who’s talking.” A husky voice reverberated through the alcohol fog.  “Sort of like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think, fairy?”