Friday, December 31, 2010
Finally, over the past five years, I decided to make resolutions I had a hope in hell of achieving. In 2010, I resolved to submit a manuscript to Ellora's Cave and that worked out beautifully! In fact I have a new release coming out at Ellora's Cave on January 7th titled Love Game. Woo hoo! So this year, I'm going to keep building on my momentum as a writer and keep up with my healthy habits like yoga and controlling my sugar intake (not insane, borderline eating disorder habits).
But then I thought, why not take these reasonable resolutions one step further? Why not make a few resolutions I know I can keep to bolster my self-esteem even more? It's time to dream the possible dream! Here's what I've come up with:
1. When I empty the garbage can, I will immediately put in a new trash bag. I'm sure I can stick to this one...okay, 75% sure.
2. I will clean the lint trap in the dryer between each load.
3. I will no longer buy Men's Fitness magazine under the pretense of reading the articles. And really, if they wanted me to be able to focus on the content, why would they fill it with smoking hot, half-naked men??? I mean, look at the dude on the cover--even he's checking himself out!
4. I will no longer sneak a few grapes from the bag while finishing the rest of my shopping. I mean, I still have to taste one to be sure they're worth buying, but I will stop at only one...maybe two, but that's it!
5. I will not ogle my yoga instructor's ass...hey, I have to make one resolution I know I'm going to break. That's half the fun, isn't it? *grin*
So now it's your turn--what grand and not-so-grand resolutions are you making this year?
Saturday, December 18, 2010
When Detective Peter King comes into the picture, and accuses Smythe of more than corporate dirty-dealing, Kristy's life is suddenly a lot more complicated than she wants it to be...
This book has it ALL--hot, hot love scenes, complex characters (which Ms. Bridger pulls beautifully in this steamy short story), and plenty of twists that kept me guessing. My favorite character has to be John, with his alpha-male, bad boy swagger, he's got this reader crushin' like a school girl! I also loved Kristy's unwavering belief in John, even though he's accused of some pretty bad stuff. Ms. Bridger did a wonderful job of walking that fine line between loyalty and blind devotion. With perfect pacing and sharp prose, put this one on your TBR list. You won't regret it!
Friday, December 17, 2010
Get your copy today: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8939-50-hired.aspx
Like what you see? Check out more of Lily's sexy, exciting titles on here website:
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Like what you see? Check out Eliza's work on the Ellora's Cave website:
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Like what you see? Visit Cris's website for more intense mystery and scorching romance: http://crisanson.com/
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
More gorgeous covers from Ellora's Cave author Shoshanna Evers. Punishing the Art Thief--art by Reese Dante, Hollywood Spank--art by Syneca, and Ginger Snap--one of EC's gorgeous stock covers.
Like what you see? Drop by http://shoshannaevers.com/ for more delicious titles!
Monday, December 13, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
In the spirit of putting this erroneous assumption to rest for once and all, I've invited fellow authors to submit their ebook covers and I've got a sexy feast for the eyes in store for y'all all week long. Yes, Virginia, ebooks DO have covers!
12/13 - Tess MacKall
12/14 - Shoshanna Evers
12/15 - Cris Anson
12/16 - Eliza Lloyd
12/17 - Lily Harlem
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Yummm :) Take it away, Kendall.
Monday, December 6, 2010
"You'll be glad to know," he said, "that none of your sex scenes were nominated for the Literary Review Bad Sex Award."
"The what?" I asked.
"Bad Sex Award. Rowan Somerville won this year."
Curiosity piqued, I ran to my laptop and discovered this http://www.literaryreview.co.uk/badsex.html. And I have to say, I agree with the commitee's choice. In his novel, The Shape of Her, Somerville wrote, "...like a lepidopterist mounting a tough-skinned insect with a too blunt pin he screwed himself into her.”* Now, in Somerville's defense, this line came from a sex scene that was NOT intended to be sexy. The description refers to two people who are dysfunctional and having a rough time of it. That being said, the simile IS a wee bit over the top. First of all--as evidenced by the picture above--pinning a butterfly is a pretty delicate activity which doesn't seem to be Somerville's intention judging from, "...screwed himself into her." Also, I can only imagine that working the word "lepidopterist" into a sex scene was a dare issued by a fellow writer. Seems like he's trying too hard. Not a criticism, we've all been there (though I'm pretty sure my editor would smack me on the knuckles with a ruler if this phrase came across her desk, lol). Perhaps Somerville's editor deserves the award for letting that sentence fly. Anyhoo, hats off to Rowan Somerville for accepting the award with good humor by stating, "“There is nothing more English than bad sex, so on behalf of the entire nation I would like to thank you.”*
Cheers, Rowan! Keep on keeping on ;D
*quoted from quoted from http://hypervocal.com/news/2010/bad-sex-award-winner-lepidopterist-mounting-a-tough-skinned-insect/
Friday, December 3, 2010
He was the brightest star in my galaxy, self-proclaimed vice-president of serendipities and the most joyful person I've every known. Thank you, my friend, for being part of my life for nine years. Thank you for introducing me to the Finnish beverage glögg, though the hangover almost killed me. Thank you for always paying for the drinks, even when you didn't have to. Thank you for trying to steer me away from temptation and never scolding me when I gave into it. Thank you for sharing your words with me--Belize lives forever in my heart and it's where I hope you're spending eternity. You are loved and you are missed.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
While I make my decision regarding my word usage, I thought I'd put the topic out there for readers and other authors. How do y'all feel about the "P" word? Are you okay with it? Love it, hate it? Use it liberally or shy away from it? Does it matter the context in which it's used--okay for erotica, not okay for romance? Is there another term you prefer? Inquiring minds want to know.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Last Thursday, I achieved one of my big dreams--I published a story with Ellora's Cave. The big EC. An erotic romance writer's Mecca. Okay, you get the picture. As thrilled as I am (and I'm really, really, really thrilled!), I'm not the kind of person who ever rest on her laurels. I'm always pushing to work--as Kanye would say--harder, better, faster, stronger. Still, I look back on the three years since I became involved with digital publishing and I can't help thinking--this time borrowing from the Grateful Dead--What a loooooong strange trip it's been.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Just when Lila has resigned herself to the fact the most exciting chapters of her life are over, a blast from the past walks into her bakery. Six feet of gorgeousness named Gavin drops by as she’s closing up shop. They were once high-school sweethearts and it’s been more than twenty-five years since they’ve seen each other, but time hasn’t diminished the sweet heat between them. Soon enough the sparks—and the frosting—begin to fly.
As they rediscover each other’s bodies, it’s clear Gavin’s no longer a boy as he shows Lila the man and skillful lover he’s become. Though Lila knows this whirlwind romp could be an act of insanity, his touch unleashes the sensual woman she’s forgotten she could be. And she thinks—maybe—she has one more leap in her.
An Excerpt From: LEAP
Copyright © CINDY JACKS, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Gavin followed her through the swinging door to the back. With a low whistle, he looked around the kitchen and asked, “Is this place all yours?”
She walked over to the Purposeless Cake and stared down at it. Pulling a box from beneath the worktable, she started to put it away, but then thought better of it.
“Are you hungry?” asked Lila.
“I could eat.”
“Good.” She pulled a knife from a drawer, cut slabs of cake and served them up on heavy-duty ceramic plates. Gavin grabbed two stainless-steel forks from a gray plastic silverware tub to his right.
She handed him his plate.
“This looks great,” he said.
He shoveled a bite into his mouth and moaned. “Oh my God. This is— Damn.”
Lila grinned. “Thanks.” She took a bite of cake. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.”
Pulling up two barstools, she sat and motioned for him to do the same. Lila studied him as he moved to take a seat. Taller, broader. Gavin had become fully a man. Though he was clean-shaven, she wondered what he’d look like with a beard. Could he grow one now? His dark hair led to about an inch or so of well-filled-out sideburns. Yeah, she was sure he could grow out his facial hair and he’d look pretty damn good if he did. Not that he didn’t look great as he was. The cropped, clean-cut look worked for him. A whisper of gray touched each of his temples and he wore that well too.
Her gaze wandered down his frame. No excess flesh or jutting bone. His tight musculature shifted his frame with ease. Clearly he took care of himself, worked out often. A picture of him shirtless in some imaginary gym, sweat dripping down a cut chest and abdomen, appeared in her mind’s eye. She blinked away the thought, trying to focus on his words and ignore the pounding of her heart. Her hand strayed to her matronly bun and the bobby pins holding it in place. She picked them out of her hair, one by one, and shook out her shoulder-length tresses.
“Mom said you’ve been at this location for the past ten years. I can see why,” said Gavin.
She cleared her throat. “Jack helped me set it up after we got divorced.”
“It was a pretty amicable split…as divorces go.”
“My ex, Irene, and I went through a pretty rough one a couple years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He took another bite of cake. “It’s all good now.”
Lila worked on her piece for a few minutes in comfortable silence and then asked, “Why did you come here tonight, Gavin?”
He glanced around the room and gave a little shake of his head. “To see you.”
“I get that. I mean what were you expecting from me?”
He rubbed his hand on the front of his jeans. “No expectations. It’s—it’s just good to be back. You’re part of my memories of home. I guess. No, I mean you are. Definitely.” He grunted and rolled his eyes. “I’ll stop rambling now.”
She let out an amused huff under her breath. “You’re fine.”
She slid her fork over her plate and scraped up the last of the frosting and crumbs. Her tongue darted over the fork tines and licked them clean.
Gavin reached out his hand. “You got a little chocolate…”
He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. She let her tongue graze the tip of it. Shocked by her own audacity, she shied away from his touch but he cupped her face in one hand.
Eyelids lowered, Gavin leaned in. Dark lashes rested against his cheek. Warm lips skimmed across hers. The hand under her jaw slipped beneath her hair and cradled her neck. Lila’s body relaxed into the kiss, sliding her tongue over his. For a moment she lost herself in the scent and the taste of him—chocolate richness and the citrus undertones of his cologne, but all too soon, she remembered the shards of glass lodged in her heart. Pain at the memory of Alan’s departure stabbed at her.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmured.
“Maybe not.” He gave her a quick, soft kiss and then a longer, more urgent one.
Shouldn’t be doing this, Lila thought. A list of reasons she should rebuff his advances scrolled through her mind. She was still getting over Alan. She hadn’t seen Gavin in over twenty-five years. Jesus Christ, a quarter century. Nothing good ever came from rushing into sex. But who said they had to go that far? Well, she did want to fuck him. No denying that. But the last thing she needed was…was…?
The feel of his heated mouth against hers overrode her common sense. Oh, to hell with it. Why not?
Get your copy today!
Monday, November 15, 2010
Nicole is a free spirit, willing to try almost anything. She and her husband, famous author Cameron Wood, have an active and diverse sex life—kinky even. Her exhibitionism and his voyeurism are a perfect match. But lately, Cam seems a bit less interested. And his latest request has knocked her for a loop. He wants to watch her have sex with another man. Nicole has to admit she is intrigued and…aroused. But she has reservations. She loves Cam and fears it might damage their relationship.
When Cam’s friend Judson Tate shows up at their mountainside home—all smoldering hunkiness and good looks—Cam seems to be pushing Nicole and Jud together. With Jud is snowed in, her defenses are wearing down. Can she do what her husband wants? Have sex with Judson while Cam watches them? What about what she wants? And where will it all end?
Fresh from her shower, Nicole chose a musky-scented lotion this time. The mountain climate wreaked havoc on her skin, and she felt she was constantly rubbing lotion all over herself. She took great care in blowing her hair dry, ironing it until the long blonde strands were stick-straight. Just how Cam loved it.
After her multi-orgasmic morning, Nicole had spent the afternoon catching up on some reading while Cam tried to write. He was back out in the barn and might be watching her, but Nicole skipped her self-pleasuring ritual. She needed more than that now and she was determined to seduce Cam tonight. No fingers, no mouths, no vibrators—only a big hard cock would do.
Nicole left the bathroom and made her way to the walk-in closet. She tapped her fingers on her chin as she scanned the shelves. What to wear? Nothing too obvious. Of course—her super low-rise skinny jeans that practically showed off the crack of her ass. She’d have to go commando for sure, but that was nothing new.
Nicole pulled them on, shimmying all the while. She examined herself in the mirror. The jeans looked like they were painted on. She turned her back to the mirror and tugged the waistband down slightly until she could see the hint of her crack.
For a top, Nicole chose a cropped V-neck cashmere sweater. It was white and showed a fair amount of cleavage as well as exposing her belly and lower back. The bonus was that when her nipples were erect, the light-colored fine material offered no hiding place. Her sexy voyeur of a husband would go nuts. Maybe she’d be able to make him forget about this other man thing, at least for tonight.
She took a last look in the mirror. Perfect. Watch out, Cameron Wood!
Nicole strolled out of the bedroom and took a quick survey of the house. No Cam. He must still be writing. Huh. Maybe frustration was inspiring him.
In the kitchen, she grabbed a bottle of white wine from the fridge and poured herself a large glass. She was getting ready to take a sip when she heard the doorbell.
As far as she knew, they weren’t expecting anyone. At the door she called out, “Who is it?”
“Judson Tate,” a deep male voice answered.
She recognized the name but couldn’t place it. Then, Oh, Judson Tate. Cam’s editor. She opened the door to find one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen in her life. She smiled as she took in the longish dark hair, deep blue eyes, high cheekbones. His face looked like it had been stained with a tan, sparing the area around his eyes. A skier.
She openly ogled the lean form beneath his ski parka. “Can I help you?”
He smiled back, his teeth extra white against his dark skin. “Uh, is Cameron around?”
Nicole saw him checking her out, his eyes definitely pausing for a moment on her chest. She didn’t look down, but her nipples had to be like hard pebbles from the cold air. “Yes, he’s working,” she said, puffing her chest out. She had no shame.
He smiled easily, his eyes flitting back and forth between her face and her breasts. He yanked off a glove and held out his hand. “You must be Nicole. It’s nice to meet you.”
Nicole returned the handshake, wondering why Cam’s editor was knocking on their door, but she was having trouble thinking right now. “I’m sorry. Was Cam expecting you?”
He laughed now. “He didn’t tell you I was coming?”
Nicole sputtered. “Uh, I don’t think…” Then she did remember Cam saying something about his editor stopping by, but she’d forgotten when. “Of course. Yes, yes, he told me.” Nicole slapped her forehead and stepped aside. “I’m so sorry, come in out of the cold and snow.” She caught a whiff of some subtle masculine scent as he passed by her. “Let me take your coat.”
“Thanks.” Judson peeled off his jacket and handed it to her. He also pulled a bottle of wine out of a plain brown sack. “This is for you.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet. Thank you. Come in and sit down.” She led him to the large living area and Judson sat in the leather recliner.
Nicole stood across from him, staring at him. Finally she tore her eyes away and sat.
“Is something wrong?” Judson asked.
“What? No. I mean, uh…yes. You are not like I pictured you.”
“Oh, no? What was I supposed to look like?”
“Well, like an editor. Older, graying, nerdy glasses.”
He grinned. Beautiful white teeth. White teeth and sculpted lips. “I’m so sorry to disappoint.”
“No, no!” Nicole laughed at her sudden vehemence. “No, I’m far from disappointed. I’m sure you’re well aware that you don’t look like a typical book editor.”
Judson frowned. “On behalf of my occupation, I’m going to have to take offense at that.”
“What? No. I didn’t mean…” Her voice trailed as she saw him smile. “You’re teasing me.” What was wrong with her? Relax, Nic.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said. “Cam’s told me so much about you.”
Nicole fidgeted, wondering exactly how detailed her husband had been. She knew that Cam had signed on with Judson Tate two books ago, so they were probably reasonably close. She also knew that Cam liked to brag to his close friends about his habit of “spying” on her. And though she didn’t know for sure, Nicole suspected that Cam kept footage of some of his favorite “sessions”. Cam’s best friend was Max, his agent. A couple of months ago, Nicole had intercepted a text from Max—
Thnx 4 the show. Super hot. U lucky devil!.
Nicole hadn’t confronted Cam about it. In a strange way, she was almost flattered he’d wanted to show it to his good buddy. Max had come out to ski about a week later and he was unusually attentive to her. It had sorta turned her on, thinking he’d watched her masturbate. And so what? Nobody got hurt. She certainly wasn’t.
Nicole smiled brightly. “As you can tell, he’s obviously not told me much about you.”
“Well, we’ll just have to get to know each other better.” Judson winked.
Nicole’s mouth went suddenly dry but she managed to rasp out, “Yes, we will.” She took a sip of her wine. “Oh my goodness. I have no manners. Cam I get you a glass of wine?”
Nicole hopped up but he stopped her with a wave of his hand. “And Nicole?” he said.
“Is Cameron here?”
She laughed. “Well, duh. Yes, Cam’s out in the barn. I’ll call him for you, Judson.” Grabbing her cell phone, she dialed on the way to the kitchen.
“Nicole,” he called to her.
She stopped dead in her tracks and looked over her shoulder at him.
“Call me Jud.”
“Okay, Jud.” She added a little extra wiggle to her walk as she left the room.
“Unfuckingbelievable,” Jud muttered to himself. When Cam had first suggested this whole scene to him, Jud had nearly laughed in his face. Jud wasn’t a prude—far from it. It just seemed crazy, him fucking Nicole while Cam watched. Jud had jokingly asked Cam if he was gay, but Cam quickly set him straight. Then he had given him a disc that contained various scenes of Nicole masturbating and Cam fucking her six ways from Sunday. Nicole Wood wasn’t in-your-face gorgeous, but if the video was any indication, she was sex personified. Watching scene after scene, Jud had lost count of her orgasms. And she hadn’t appeared to be faking it.
Cam told Jud that he’d always been a voyeur of sorts, but now it was eating at him. He wanted, no he needed, to see another man fuck Nicole. Cam knew of Jud’s reputation as a ladies’ man and he was sure that Nicole would be attracted to him, that he was the perfect candidate.
When Cam had called him last night, he’d told Jud he was still working on convincing Nicole to cooperate. He thought she was definitely softening and maybe a hunky ski bum-editor would get her juices flowing. Jud chuckled to himself. From what he’d seen, the lady had no trouble in the juicy area.
Then she’d opened the door to him today. Jesus. Nicole had a pretty face, but those tits! They looked high and round and firm, with perpetual nipple erection. He hoped to God they were real and that he’d get a chance to find out. And those fucking jeans! He could see half of her hipbones from the front and definite butt cleavage from behind. She didn’t seem particularly shy about it, either. Cam said she was proud of her body and loved to show it off.
“Here we are.” Nicole handed him a glass of wine.
Their fingers touched on the glass and Jud was surprised the wine didn’t start boiling on the spot. It must have affected Nicole as well, because she quickly snatched back her hand.
She sat on the couch and leaned forward, arms crossed, breasts pushing through the gap in her V-neck sweater. Jud wondered if it was a practiced maneuver or if she was just naturally sexual. Either way, he appreciated the view.
“So where do you live, Jud?” she asked.
He cleared his throat and took a long swallow of wine. “Just outside of Vail.”
“Mmm. Editors must make good money.”
Jud shrugged. “I do a little ski patrol in my spare time.”
Cam came bursting into the house and rushed over to him. “Jud! I’m glad you could make it.”
Jud shook his hand. “I’m afraid your wife wasn’t expecting me.”
Cam whirled to look at Nicole. “What? Honey, I told you last week that Jud was coming.”
“I know, I know. I guess I forgot,” she said.
He turned back to Jud. “Well, you’re here now. And from the looks of the snow, you’ll be staying.”
“Good thing I made reservations at a place in town,” Jud said.
“Aw, bullshit,” Cam said. “You’ll stay here with us. Besides, our road won’t be plowed for a day or two anyway. You’re lucky you made it up here today, even with your SUV. There’s no way I’d let you drive back to town later.”
Jud glanced over at Nicole. “If it’s okay with your lovely wife, then I’ll stay.”
“Of course. It’s fine,” she said. “Absolutely you should stay here.”
Cam rubbed his hands together. “Great, all settled then. Nic, why don’t you thaw out some steaks and we’ll grill for dinner. I’m gonna take Jud out to the barn, show him where the magic happens.”
Nicole and Jud rolled their eyes at each other, laughing.
Out in the barn, Cam asked him, “So, what do you think? Are we gonna make this happen?”
Jud followed as Cam walked over to the video monitors. “I’m ready, willing and able.”
Cam queued up a sequence on the video. “You getting any vibe from her?”
“She’s attracted to me, for sure. I know when a woman is interested.”
Cam tapped on the monitor. “Check it out, new footage from this morning.”
Jud was unable to look away from the sight of a naked Nicole Wood playing with herself. “So what’s the plan?”
“I figure we break her in slowly. I’ll pretend to overindulge and we’ll make the talk at dinner as raw as possible. Dirty talk turns her on.”
Still staring at the screen, Jud asked, “What doesn’t turn her on?”
Cam’s chuckle turned into a long laugh. “So, the evening’s conversation will be verbal foreplay, I’ll be ‘drunk’ and then crash early.”
“And I make my move,” Jud said.
“If it feels right,” Cam replied.
“What if she shuts me down? I don’t want this whole scene to strain my relationship with you.”
“It won’t. She won’t be offended by a pass from you. And remember, if she does shut you down initially, she gets up around midnight or one to have a cup of tea. She has trouble sleeping sometimes.”
“Probably because you aren’t keeping her satisfied,” Jud joked.
Cam looked at him, serious now. “That’s why you’re here, man. I’m trying to change that.”
Jud nodded. “So I meet her for a late-night tea, strip her naked, fuck her senseless, make sure you see it.”
Cam gave him a look. “First of all, she’ll already be naked. Second, I was thinking we could stick with just oral tonight. Third, I will be watching. Then fourth, I’ll fuck her senseless.”
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Sunday, November 14, 2010
Masquerade, By Kayden McLeod
To Buy: CLICK HERE
Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance (Werewolves, Vampires and Zombies)
Publisher: Silver Publishing
Heat-Rating: Three Flames, Boiling
What lies behind the façade isn’t always what it seems
Abigail claimed the land of North Vancouver as her own, sharing it only with a clan of vampires, the Jericho Coven, who accepted the werewolf into their territory without qualm. Within their numbers is one, Cyrus Jericho; a suave, brooding vampire who isn’t quite as he appeared. He declares Abigail for his own the moment they meet, despite the fact that another werewolf pack is in British Columbia looking to claim Abigail into their midst, no matter what they must do to see that goal complete.
Nightmares always had a way of instilling fear, even in the bravest of folk.
Abigail knew, in theory, dreams every now and then meant something, but she had no clue how this scene pertained to her, short of giving her a healthy respect for her rambunctious subconscious.
It could have something to do with it being three days short of Halloween, a time when all sorts of monsters came out from under their self-imposed guises, to play under the light of the moon at midnight, the witching hour at its peak. Many of them celebrated this time of year for good reason.
The possibilities of mischief and creating unimaginable havoc would be at their peak of power and potential, though she wouldn't know much about that.
Abigail wandered a decrepit graveyard, the kind people of today never saw anymore. The unevenly cut hills, gnarled live oaks and chipped gravestones of varying heights and intricacies made her shiver in apprehension. It seemed her dream-self wasn't quite as courageous as her wakeful-self. Normally, she feared nothing, not even death. Yet the undeniable urge to cower in terror now hung over her head.
Abigail looked down to see she carried a single white rose tipped in fresh blood, a substance her subconscious mind told her she craved. This fact made little sense to her. She wasn't a vampire but something else entirely. She knew they existed and was even acquainted with a few of them, but even so, this fact didn't faze her terribly much as she continued up the unseen path.
A simple, formless black nightgown shrouded her and her bare feet allowed rocks littering the ground to cut deeply into her soles. Her thigh brushed upon a roughly hacked-up tombstone, which sliced her clean open. The heavy, humid air filled with the sickly sweet scent of her life-fluid. Her teeth and gums ached painfully, as if her canines fought to extend. Why? What…or whom was she feeling?
It surely wasn't her. It couldn't be. While many traits of hers were unusual, this was not one of them.
Her gaze darted about. The oaks were winter-bare, even though it was merely fall. The branches dipped and reached into the nothingness of the icy cold night, curling toward her in a menacing fashion.
A shuffling and then a moan caused her to lift her head, but her body would not stop to properly assess the situation like she would at any other time. A moment later, the sound of something being ripped or torn caused a foreboding she could not escape.
Just what lay out there in the darkness, waiting while she was powerless to stop herself from just meandering into its grasp?
A piercing howl, not so much different than a wolf's but just enough that Abigail knew it wasn't an everyday animal, sent an excited thrill along her erect spine.
"Even in dreams, you're going crazy. You know that?" she said softly, unable to quite bring herself to speak at a normal volume for fear of disturbing the…dead? Why would she care about such things? Alas, she remained terrified of what resided below the ground.
The soil began to slope upward toward an old granite angel with half-extended wings. It's face, stance, everything about it seemed more sinister than angelic in the shadowy light thrown from the partially cloud-covered stars which lent little comfort to her.
The left arm looked sawed off, but as she grew closer, Abigail realized someone or something had snapped it off leaving the edges not as clean as they appeared at first glance.
Abigail felt unstoppably drawn to the statue, like a magnet which pulled her bruised feet against her will. A trickle of wetness worked down her leg from the wound which throbbed with the rhythm of her heartbeat. Her breath came in ragged, hard won gasps of her terror when she thought about the unseen adversary.
Something did watch her, semi-aware of her presence just as she was of it.
Stopping in front of the statue, she reached with her free hand to touch the saintly features staring out at her in warning.
Abigail wanted to turn back, to go back to where she'd come, though the likelihood of that was close to nil. The dream had begun after her entrance to this place. Therefore she didn't know how to get out, which way to turn and run if the need arose to maintain her safety. Her instincts screamed that specific allotment of time fast approached an end.
The guttural howl sounded again, far too close; near enough that every hair on her body rose to attention at the unnerving sound.
Panic froze Abigail's breath right there in her lungs. Her blood pounded through her at an alarming pace, giving her a headache and lending a hazy quality to the scene around her.
Then a figure stumbled from behind the nearest trunk, one so incredibly wide, it was no wonder how it hid this man—or what she thought to be a man.
When he saw her standing there, displayed so vulnerably beside the broken angel, the silhouette froze in motion, foot not even touching the dead grass.
He snarled, gaze moving to the space on the ground at his side before cutting back to her. His quiescence seeped into Abigail, and she stood at his mercy. Not that there would be any. Not from him.
When he moved into the light, she shook in foreign cowardice. Somewhere, deep inside, Abigail knew him. It was truly impossible not to recognize him, even if her mind wouldn't bring up the facts associated with the creature before her.
He rushed into motion, leaping into the air. Abigail didn't so much as flinch when he landed in front of her, revealing a masquerade of "human" flesh. Whatever this thing was, it had never been as such. It certainly wasn't like her.
His long, dull hair lay upon his shoulders saturated with filth and leaves, falling around him in a disarray of stringy, dirty white. His red-rimmed blue eyes focused on Abigail and her alone, flickering with a predatory nature that grated against her own.
She felt as though he'd made a silent declaration while they maintained eye-contact, and somehow she knew he had claimed her in some form. In which context, thought, she had no idea.
Something within her flared, sparked back into being and reminded her Abigail would never be weak or compliant. This time wouldn't be any different, dream or no.
"Abigail," he called. His shallow voice grated on her nerves. In the back of her mind, the possessiveness with which he said her name angered her.
Her eyes strayed to the rounded object in his hand, a gore–stained, severely mangled skull. With little room to doubt it could be an old bone dug from the ground, she cringed. She knew this because the chunks of flesh still attached were fresh, the bone beneath luminescent in the moonlight.
Next her gaze moved to the base of the tree, and she saw the decapitated corpse there. This entity must have killed and eaten parts of it—stripping it nearly bare before her arrival.
The man was a monster, no less.
The stained clothes were enough evidence of that fact. Its garb wasn't of this time but that of olden days long since gone—a parted shirt bared a blood-coated chest, broken up with ties of blue upon ashen flesh which held the material together and tight-fitted pants flared over grimy, sodden boots.
This thing had made a real mess of its snack, something she would never do. Abigail had seen and done a great many things in her life, but this had never been among them.
Run, damn it, run! she screamed at herself. Make your feet work. Do you wish to end up like its past meal? Turn tail and get the hell out of here!
The man began to speak in a language she ill understood—or perhaps he did in fact speak English, but his growls garbled it past recognition. Eventually, though, the words became clearer to her.
"Abigail, so beautiful," he said calmly, not looking in her direction, but at whatever lay behind her.
She backed up until she collided with the nearest tombstone, stupidly pleased she could finally move of her own accord and thinking herself safe. Surely now she could escape.
"Mine." He stared pointedly at her, and she sneered in response.
"I belong to no one," Abigail snapped. As usual, her tongue got the better of her.
His eyes narrowed on her. "I beg to differ, moj ljub. I want you, and I always get what I want."
His hypnotic eyes enraptured her, for a moment, looking past the gruesome image he represented and seeing just the man.
Distraction could be a bitch. In this case, that was a definite.
The dirt burst underneath Abigail's feet, spraying up to her knees. A bare-boned hand escaped the soil and grabbed her ankle in a painful grip, joints biting into her flesh as the second arm revealed itself from the swirl of dirt.
"Abby, you will never escape me."
Reproduced with the author's permission.
Copyright Kayden McLeod 2010
All rights reserved by Silver Publishing
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Ada Jericho, Leader to the North Vancouver Coven sits on her patio by the pool, sipping a cup of tea. She looks over her property, wondering about the night before. Her sons, Ian, Cole and Adrian know next to nothing concerning what happened after the Masquerade Gala, which certainly isn’t enough to satisfy her rightful curiosity. Soon enough the Armstrongs, the wolf-pack from Alberta, would come to see what had transpired here. They had come to British Columbia after Ada’s friend: Abigail, the lone-wolf who claimed this area as her territory.
Cyrus Jericho, Abigail Webber and Dina Sergeyev walk out of the mansion in silence, seeing Ada sitting there. They knew well enough the grilling they were about to receive. Only one of the three newcomers had any reason to answer to Ada Jericho, but out of respect, the other two had come at her bidding, and would do their best to give what she wanted.
They sit down across from her at the small bistro table, accepting additional cups of teas. They ignored the plate of assorted baked goods sitting at the centre, awaiting them.
Ada: You know why I called you here so early. Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we?
Dina: Fair enough.
Ada: What do you have to tell me?
Cyrus: What do you want to know?
Ada: Everything that happened when you left the gala last night. Many rumors and speculations have already begun to fly around, by people who have no reason to know anything. I need to discern this situation so I know how to quell them, before it gets out of control.
Cyrus: *Nods his head, knowing he won’t easily get out of this one.* After the kidnapping, we intercepted the Armstrongs in Capilano Cemetery in a very final way. Dina and I made sure they would never harm this Coven or its associates ever again.
Ada: *Sighs with exasperation.* How are you so sure the Armstrong pack Alpha isn’t going to follow through after dispatching so many of his wolves who never returned—especially his own son? This could cause a huge backlash, unlike anything we have ever dealt with before. It isn’t often wolf and vampire business collides. They won’t trust anything we have to say, not that I would either, in their place.
Dina: Please, do not worry about such a thing, Ada. I promise we cleaned up after ourselves—to the point that even if they do come, there is nothing, anywhere to find. And if they dare to persist, I will it take quite personally. I will do everything within my power—and we both know that is very considerable—to eradicate their existence from your life.
Abigail: You know I would never allow anything from my world to intrude on yours. *Growls.* This is my problem—I caused it and will take full responsibility for it.
Ada: Abby, my dear, nothing has changed. I will still protect you now, as I did when Sabern and gang showed up the first time. You are not capable of coming up against an entire pack of wolves, diminished now as they be. The Armstrongs had no right to come after you, and you should never face it alone.
Abigail: I understand, really I do. But I have been taking care of myself for a very long time now—before I came here and asked you for a place to call my own. I have always fought back the wolves who dared think they owned me or anything I call mine. Not to mention, never has a werewolf come to Vancouver, and kept their life. I have always slaughtered them like the pigheaded animals they are. They deserve to be back in the dark-ages like they belong.
Dina: *She sputters in laughter, eyes cutting to Cyrus.* Some of us never could leave that era behind us.
Cyrus: *Levels Abigail with a peeved glare, ignoring Dina.* I completely agree that Abigail needs to have someone at her back. Nothing will get past Dina and I. We can handle it.
Ada: It better not. We should have at least tried to keep the peace, before taking such drastic measures.
Dina: You know damned well why we didn’t. Sabern had too much knowledge that helped none of us. Perhaps it was stupid to give him our real identities in the first place, but we needed to take them by surprise. Cyrus and I had hoped it would be enough for them to back off—and hadn’t thought through the repercussions of that action until it was too late. After that, we very well couldn’t let them go.
Ada: You could’ve wiped their memories clean. They are nearly resistant to a vampire’s magic—but yours…
Abigail: *Laughs.” They would never have stood a chance against Dina. *Abigail sobers.* But Ada, we will be fine.
Ada: I know we will be, in the end. It is just a matter of what it takes to get there. You’re not going to tell me how you managed to silence Sabern, are you?
Cyrus: No, and you really don’t want to know.
Ada: Did you break conciliate law?
Dina: Several of them, repeatedly. Your Council would be none-too-happy with us.
Ada: Great. Just great.
Cyrus: *Replies in a softer voice.* You know not even they can’t touch me.
Ada: Cyr, you still belong to my Coven, unofficial as it may be. But, if push comes to shove, you’re right. There isn’t anything they can do. There were many councilmen at the Halloween Gala, and they knew something went down and want the anticipated report ASAP.
Abigail: And what are you going to tell them?
Ada: *Smiles wickedly.* Lie through my teeth—as usual. All in the day of a being a Leader with political pull.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Thank you Cindy, for having the Cornwalls and me here today!
The Cornwall Coven has been busy as of late. The coming winter will prove to be an exhilarating whirlwind for me as the snow grows nearer, fireplaces are lit and we bring out turkeys for Christmas, and champagne for New Years.
There are a few new books with the Vancouver vampires coming out between November 27th 2010 to January 29th 2011.
The Cornwall Coven Series continues with two more books from Silver Publishing.
Anthology is entitled: Just Another Paranormal Christmas
A Cornwall Christmas, by Kayden McLeod
Publication Date: November, 27th 2010
Genre: Paranormal Romance (Vampires, PG)
Publisher: Mojocastle Press
A Christmas the Vancouver vampires will never forget
Even vampires celebrate the holidays. Marcus and Kelly wake up Christmas morning with their own extraordinary presents for the other, one of them being blowing up of the kitchen. In an effort to appear more human, the Cornwalls plan an extravagant dinner, with all the trimmings and more. Differences are put aside; the Council and Covens come together to show that this time of year is only for good tidings.
Read An Excerpt: CLICK HERE
The Cornwall Coven, Book Two; Carnal Magnetism
Publication Date: January, 8th 2011
Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance (Vampires, M/F, Rated R)
Publisher: Silver Publishing
Pre-Release Reader Review:
“Kayden McLeod spins a tale in Carnal Magnetism that sucks you in at the beginning and doesn’t let you go. You won’t be able to put down this entrancing story of a vampire family formed from need, but able to stay together because of love.” –Pre-Release Review by, Stacey Krug
To Read the Entire Review: CLICK HERE
Trust only works when it’s both ways
The RedLine is the perfect haven for a man of Ryder’s extensive desires and tastes. He uses the women of the club, much like they do him, with little care to know anything more than names, sometimes even less than that. His reputation for open-minded, tantalizing sex is renowned, and willing victims for this particular vampire are never at a shortage. At least until Catalym crashes into his life, taking over from the moment they meet. And it isn’t long before her past life’s tribulations follow her, including a dangerous ex-boyfriend who hides far more than Ryder or his friends ever guess.
Read An Excerpt: CLICK HERE
The Cornwall Coven, Book Three; Demonic Pandemonium
Publication Date: January, 29th 2010
Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance (Vampires, M/F, Rated R)
Publisher: Silver Publishing
Sex, blood and rock and roll
Pandora is a half-demon, alone in the world and good as abandoned, with a mother who barely tolerates her and a father who is unable to be with her nearly often enough for her tastes. She keeps to herself, and tries not to associate with others often, lest they discover her secret—until she meets Kevlar Cornwall. The two collide in ignorance of one another, but the sexual-attraction is indisputable and cannot be ignored, growing more profound with every passing moment. It blinds them to the lurking danger hiding just around the corner, out to end both their lives and everyone either of them have ever known or loved.
Read An Excerpt: CLICK HERE
For a chance to win The Cornwall Coven, Book One, Deadly Fetishes, leave a comment about the Cornwalls, or anything else you would like to talk about! Winner will be drawn tomorrow. If you don’t have blogger/Google Account, you may enter by e-mailing me: firstname.lastname@example.org
It will be announced when the contest closes!