This one's for Strangers, the VERY hot paranormal romance that's being published by New Concepts Publishing. Want to check it out? Click the pic on June 3rd (this Friday!!) to grab your copy!
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Guest Blogger: Nobilis Reed
Hello, everyone! Today I have fellow Coming Together contributer Nobilis Reed discussing the most dreaded and, yet, the most motivational aspect of writing: deadlines. Visit her website at http://www.nobiliserotica.com/
On Deadlines
As a parent of teenagers, I witness the mind dominated by immediate
needs and immediate desires daily. Yes, they can plan and work
towards long-term goals, but the default, if they are not vigilant, is
to pursue whatever desires are forefront in their minds at that
moment. "It's your turn to change the catbox today" is not as likely
to get results as "if you do not change the catbox, as you agreed to
do, there will be consequences."
My muse works the same way. If there are no consequences for failing
to write on any given day, it's not likely to happen. Nothing spurs
my creativity like a looming deadline. It is for this reason that I
carefully arrange my projects so that there is always something on the horizon, some goal to hit, something for which someone is depending on me. It works best if I have a deadline within the next three or four months at all times. Beyond that, it's not really impending enough to spur activity. I call this state "project saturation." It's a balance between being too busy to keep my commitments, and too idle to get things done.
Now this isn't to say that this state of obligation nirvana is a cure
for writer's block. I get blocked sometimes, even on projects that are
due in a matter of days. But I find that I can get around those blocks
by working on something else for a while, something that has a
deadline further out, and come back to my original project after
fifteen minutes or so of proving to myself, once again, that I can in
fact write, I can go back to the original project and get moving on
it.
A nice, meaty deadline can even help me power through distractions.
This weekend I happen to be a participant at the Balticon science
fiction convention (www.balticon.org) and last night I was a
contestant in a writing competition modeled after the "Iron Chef" TV
show. Alongside Helen E H Madden (www.cynicalwoman.com) and Jhada Addams (www.jhadaaddam.com) we were challenged to write as many words of erotica as we could manage in a 20 minute span of time... while the emcee was looking over our shoulders and commenting on what we were writing, while the audience was hooting and laughing at his antics, while trying to incorporate the secret ingredient--artichoke--into the story. Probably about the worst possible environment.
I wrote more than 400 words in that 20 minutes.*
That's about as fast as I write in a nice, quiet, environment. Even
though it was a silly little game, the fact that it was a competition
gave me the tools to focus on the keyboard and the screen, and just
keep writing.
My next looming project is the third book in my "Orgone Chronicles"
series. I wrote the first 50,000 words of it during nanowrimo
(www.nanowrimo.org) last year, and now it is nice and stale on my hard drive, waiting for me to get in there and start revisions. The second one, "Pirates" (www.logical-lust.com/pirates.html) is just released this weekend, and as I do my readings and promotion here at the convention, I am reminded of why I am so in love with this story. I can't wait to get back in there, feel the sweet lash of deadline's whip on my back, and write.
*And if you think that's impressive, Jhada wrote almost 500 words, and Helen wrote more than 800.
On Deadlines
As a parent of teenagers, I witness the mind dominated by immediate
needs and immediate desires daily. Yes, they can plan and work
towards long-term goals, but the default, if they are not vigilant, is
to pursue whatever desires are forefront in their minds at that
moment. "It's your turn to change the catbox today" is not as likely
to get results as "if you do not change the catbox, as you agreed to
do, there will be consequences."
My muse works the same way. If there are no consequences for failing
to write on any given day, it's not likely to happen. Nothing spurs
my creativity like a looming deadline. It is for this reason that I
carefully arrange my projects so that there is always something on the horizon, some goal to hit, something for which someone is depending on me. It works best if I have a deadline within the next three or four months at all times. Beyond that, it's not really impending enough to spur activity. I call this state "project saturation." It's a balance between being too busy to keep my commitments, and too idle to get things done.
Now this isn't to say that this state of obligation nirvana is a cure
for writer's block. I get blocked sometimes, even on projects that are
due in a matter of days. But I find that I can get around those blocks
by working on something else for a while, something that has a
deadline further out, and come back to my original project after
fifteen minutes or so of proving to myself, once again, that I can in
fact write, I can go back to the original project and get moving on
it.
A nice, meaty deadline can even help me power through distractions.
This weekend I happen to be a participant at the Balticon science
fiction convention (www.balticon.org) and last night I was a
contestant in a writing competition modeled after the "Iron Chef" TV
show. Alongside Helen E H Madden (www.cynicalwoman.com) and Jhada Addams (www.jhadaaddam.com) we were challenged to write as many words of erotica as we could manage in a 20 minute span of time... while the emcee was looking over our shoulders and commenting on what we were writing, while the audience was hooting and laughing at his antics, while trying to incorporate the secret ingredient--artichoke--into the story. Probably about the worst possible environment.
I wrote more than 400 words in that 20 minutes.*
That's about as fast as I write in a nice, quiet, environment. Even
though it was a silly little game, the fact that it was a competition
gave me the tools to focus on the keyboard and the screen, and just
keep writing.
My next looming project is the third book in my "Orgone Chronicles"
series. I wrote the first 50,000 words of it during nanowrimo
(www.nanowrimo.org) last year, and now it is nice and stale on my hard drive, waiting for me to get in there and start revisions. The second one, "Pirates" (www.logical-lust.com/pirates.html) is just released this weekend, and as I do my readings and promotion here at the convention, I am reminded of why I am so in love with this story. I can't wait to get back in there, feel the sweet lash of deadline's whip on my back, and write.
*And if you think that's impressive, Jhada wrote almost 500 words, and Helen wrote more than 800.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog, Pt. 8"
Welcome back, boys and girls! This week, the story of Amber and Raven continues. Is Raven more monster than man? Keep reading Silver Flash to find out.
Amber immediately took a step backwards. Raven was fighting it, fighting the canine inside of him that wanted to kill her. Again. And even though she knew its intention, she didn't want to leave Raven alone to suffer.
"Are you scared?" he or it asked.
"Not as much as you'd want."
"That's a mistake."
"Stop it."
"You ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?"
The tone was menacing, and even in broad daylight, a shiver ran down Amber's spine. Day or night, she was outmatched. This dumb dog was just toying with her. It had been awakened by their passion. It knew exactly who she was, and it wanted to take her from Raven again. His life had to be miserable, always, for the canine to be satisfied.
The dog was beginning to win. Raven's teeth and nails grew longer, as during his first change, but it didn't stop there this time. It had become more powerful. Raven tore off his clothes in a fit of madness, and as his body contorted, Amber recognized that this was the most vulnerable he'd be until he was fully transformed. She grabbed a rock with a shaking hand and hit him hard on the back of the head.
Raven slumped to the ground, naked, half-changed. She checked to make sure that he was still breathing, then she dragged him into the tent and zipped the flap, intending to leave the wood for now and do what she did best--research and problem solving. She had to get this dog out of him. But then she heard a twig break near her, and she whirled around immediately. The sight shocked her.
"Jasmine?" she breathed.
Her friend looked awful. The blond was dirty and shaking, but Amber could still see the blue highlighter in her hair. She hadn't been to the dorm. She looked terrified. What had she seen?
"Amber. Thank God."
Maybe she hadn't seen anything.
"What's wrong?"
"There's um...There's a...I don't know."
Her eyes were wide, disbelieving. Amber glanced behind her. Did this have to do with Raven?
"Where were you last night?"
"Here. I stayed with Paul. We went skinnydipping. And then..."
"Oh, no."
Amber looked to the water.
"I don't know what happened. I think he's...dead. What do I do? I can't go back. Thank God you're here."
Amber hugged her friend tightly. Apparently her leg had been the lake monster's appetizer. Paul had been the meal. Another shiver ran down Amber's spine.
"He must have drowned. Got caught on a rock or something," she suggested.
"No. No, there was something down there." Jasmine eyed the lake, terror etched in her pretty features.
"Well, there's nothing we can do right now except go back--"
Amber was trying desperately to move the girl away from the campsite, which she hadn't seemed to notice yet in her current state.
"No!" Jasmine cut her off. "I don't know...what to tell them."
"But you can't hide here forever."
"I know. I know that."
This was hopeless. How could she convince Jasmine to go with her?
"Then we won't go back. But we have to go somewhere."
Jasmine nodded slowly.
"Okay."
Amber grabbed her friend's hand and was ready to lead her to the waiting motorcycle when there was a low growl and, with a scream, her friend was gone. Amber whirled around, trying to find Raven. She knew instantly that he was at fault. Jasmine was knocked to the ground but stood and began running away from them, through the woods, towards the shore. Raven tore after her, on all fours, more dog than human now.
"Raven!" Amber screamed after him.
Her injured leg slowed her down, and by the time she reached them, Raven had Jasmine against the shore, forcing her to choose between two monsters. Amber could do nothing more than scream his name again before he lunged.
Check out this week's other flashers!
Julie Hayes (m/m)
Lindsay Klug (m/f)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/
Lily Sawyer (m/m)
Sui Lynn (m/m)
Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Guest Blogger: ZA Maxfield
Hello, everyone! Thanks for joining me on this lovely Sunday evening as I introduce Z.A. Maxfield, author of All Stirred Up. She's here today with one hilarious dirty joke and some other interesting tidbits about what makes her tick. Enjoy!
What is the best dirty joke you've ever heard?
This is probably not the best, but so far, for forty years or so, it’s been my favorite. I wish I could tell it like my high school boyfriend Richard did, but here goes, I’ll try.
This forty-year-old dentist is afraid of sex because his mother – to protect him from the machinations of evil women who only want one thing-- always told him women had teeth down there.
One day he’s treating an incredibly sexy woman who has a phobia about dentists. He tries to relax her and reassure her, but nothing helps – until he tells her about his horrible fear of women and how he’s gotten over it enough to treat women in his practice by not thinking about their teeth down there. He tells her if he had to actually look down there, he’d use nitrous oxide or any one of the things he uses to help his patients. The woman is amused and a little turned on by the idea of a forty-year-old-virgin, and so they agree to help each other.
They get high on nitrous oxide together, and they each use an earbud to listen to Enya’s Sail Away. He puts on his rubber gloves and she takes off her skirt and panties. When the moment comes, she submits to getting a hypodermic full of Novocain to numb her gums in preparation for a filling and he opens her legs for The Big Reveal!
Shocked, he takes in her smug expression.
"Sheee? She tells him. "Shilly. Theresh no teeth down there."
"I should say not!" He gapes at her, appalled. "Just look at the condition of those GUMS?"
What book that you've written so far is your favorite or the most meaningful?
I my most meaningful story was Jumping Off Places, which is one of my novellas. It can be found in the Because of the Brave anthology I did with Josh Lanyon and Laura Baumbach.
Why?
The timing of that, my deadline, was a month after my mother passed away. I was so numb I found myself writing a lot of things I couldn’t have written even a month after that. It was unexpected and raw, emotionally. When I went to edit it a couple of months later it was clear I’d have a tough time.
How did you come up with your pen name?
Z.A. Maxfield is a combination of all my children’s names, Zoe, Alexander, Zachary and Maxfield. I have an absolutely adorable picture of my twins on the soccer field, facing away. Their jerseys say Zachary and Maxfield.
What made you want to become a writer? How do you define a successful writer?
I always wanted to be a writer because words were my first playthings. They’ve always been a favorite. Even when there’s nothing else to do, words are there to enjoy. What’s not to love? My definition of a successful writer is one who goes to bed at night happy with what he’s written for the day.
Where do you find inspiration?
Everywhere. Beware, coffee sippers at Starbuck’s, book browsers at Borders, lovely men carrying bouquets of flowers at Anime Expo. I will pull you into my churning, grinding mill of happily-ever-after and spit you out with an oh-so-stimulating lifelong romance. You are mine… Mueh heh heh…
Do you have a favorite place to write?
I like to write on that little strip of skin at the base of a hot man’s back where it meets his ass but you can only do flash fiction before you run out of room.
Do your stories tend to have a recurring theme? If so, what is it?
Inevitably, I have two themes, family and redemption -- even when I’m trying to write filthy, dirty books. I can’t help myself.
What books and/or writers have inspired you?
I love Joan Didion. She was my favorite writer for a long time, and she never gets old for me. She’s so sharp and tight and raw emotionally. Absolutely dazzling.
Were your stories secret projects or were you able to be open with your family and friends about your writing?
Oh, man. I still remember my kids telling their fifth grade teachers, "You don’t want to EVEN know what my mom writes. But she makes money." Their teacher loved that, and asked about it. I scandalized a lot of people at parent teacher meetings. On the other hand, I didn’t get invited to career day… Their loss!
Do you have any weird writing habits?
Well. If you’ve read The Long Way Home, I have to be totally in the dark and touching myself… snort… Nope. Other than the fact that I like to wear my pjs with a bra, because let’s face it… A lady doesn’t begin the day without support, no. Nothing weird about me at all. Why? Who’s been talking?
What advice would you give to any aspiring writers that might be reading this?
Write like the wind: There has never, ever been a better time to be a writer. You have the internet, you have research and a virtual view of any part of the world that strikes your fancy at the touch of a button.
Write like the wind: Publishing is going ass over teakettle and the sky is the limit as far as getting your niche market work seen. You no longer have to prove yourself to a handful of uber-erudite people in a boardroom somewhere, you can apply directly to your readers,
And most important:
Write like the wind: Amuse yourself, because in the end, that’s all that matters.
Blurb: All Stirred Up
After Brendan and his mother witness a completely random tragedy, his carefully controlled life begins to fall apart. First he starts having nightmares and panic attacks, and then he loses focus in his daily life. His board of directors insists he take a vacation at a so-called “relaxation destination” and to make matters worse, they’ve hired newly minted psychiatrist, Dr. Dirk Melovitch, to accompany him.
Dirk, whose job it is to help Brendan learn to relax, walks into the lobby of Brendan’s hotel wearing a borrowed suit and an attitude that rubs Brendan the wrong way from the moment they meet. They head for the airport and their carefully planned itinerary goes out the window, one small setback at a time.
From the airports of New York and Atlanta, to the long, lonely highways of Texas, to an upscale rehab destination in Santa Fe, Brendan and Dirk each try to gain the upper hand until both find out that it’s not just life that can get a guy All Stirred Up.
Grab your copy of All Stirred Up from Manlove Romance Press today!
What is the best dirty joke you've ever heard?
This is probably not the best, but so far, for forty years or so, it’s been my favorite. I wish I could tell it like my high school boyfriend Richard did, but here goes, I’ll try.
This forty-year-old dentist is afraid of sex because his mother – to protect him from the machinations of evil women who only want one thing-- always told him women had teeth down there.
One day he’s treating an incredibly sexy woman who has a phobia about dentists. He tries to relax her and reassure her, but nothing helps – until he tells her about his horrible fear of women and how he’s gotten over it enough to treat women in his practice by not thinking about their teeth down there. He tells her if he had to actually look down there, he’d use nitrous oxide or any one of the things he uses to help his patients. The woman is amused and a little turned on by the idea of a forty-year-old-virgin, and so they agree to help each other.
They get high on nitrous oxide together, and they each use an earbud to listen to Enya’s Sail Away. He puts on his rubber gloves and she takes off her skirt and panties. When the moment comes, she submits to getting a hypodermic full of Novocain to numb her gums in preparation for a filling and he opens her legs for The Big Reveal!
Shocked, he takes in her smug expression.
"Sheee? She tells him. "Shilly. Theresh no teeth down there."
"I should say not!" He gapes at her, appalled. "Just look at the condition of those GUMS?"
What book that you've written so far is your favorite or the most meaningful?
I my most meaningful story was Jumping Off Places, which is one of my novellas. It can be found in the Because of the Brave anthology I did with Josh Lanyon and Laura Baumbach.
Why?
The timing of that, my deadline, was a month after my mother passed away. I was so numb I found myself writing a lot of things I couldn’t have written even a month after that. It was unexpected and raw, emotionally. When I went to edit it a couple of months later it was clear I’d have a tough time.
How did you come up with your pen name?
Z.A. Maxfield is a combination of all my children’s names, Zoe, Alexander, Zachary and Maxfield. I have an absolutely adorable picture of my twins on the soccer field, facing away. Their jerseys say Zachary and Maxfield.
What made you want to become a writer? How do you define a successful writer?
I always wanted to be a writer because words were my first playthings. They’ve always been a favorite. Even when there’s nothing else to do, words are there to enjoy. What’s not to love? My definition of a successful writer is one who goes to bed at night happy with what he’s written for the day.
Where do you find inspiration?
Everywhere. Beware, coffee sippers at Starbuck’s, book browsers at Borders, lovely men carrying bouquets of flowers at Anime Expo. I will pull you into my churning, grinding mill of happily-ever-after and spit you out with an oh-so-stimulating lifelong romance. You are mine… Mueh heh heh…
Do you have a favorite place to write?
I like to write on that little strip of skin at the base of a hot man’s back where it meets his ass but you can only do flash fiction before you run out of room.
Do your stories tend to have a recurring theme? If so, what is it?
Inevitably, I have two themes, family and redemption -- even when I’m trying to write filthy, dirty books. I can’t help myself.
What books and/or writers have inspired you?
I love Joan Didion. She was my favorite writer for a long time, and she never gets old for me. She’s so sharp and tight and raw emotionally. Absolutely dazzling.
Were your stories secret projects or were you able to be open with your family and friends about your writing?
Oh, man. I still remember my kids telling their fifth grade teachers, "You don’t want to EVEN know what my mom writes. But she makes money." Their teacher loved that, and asked about it. I scandalized a lot of people at parent teacher meetings. On the other hand, I didn’t get invited to career day… Their loss!
Do you have any weird writing habits?
Well. If you’ve read The Long Way Home, I have to be totally in the dark and touching myself… snort… Nope. Other than the fact that I like to wear my pjs with a bra, because let’s face it… A lady doesn’t begin the day without support, no. Nothing weird about me at all. Why? Who’s been talking?
What advice would you give to any aspiring writers that might be reading this?
Write like the wind: There has never, ever been a better time to be a writer. You have the internet, you have research and a virtual view of any part of the world that strikes your fancy at the touch of a button.
Write like the wind: Publishing is going ass over teakettle and the sky is the limit as far as getting your niche market work seen. You no longer have to prove yourself to a handful of uber-erudite people in a boardroom somewhere, you can apply directly to your readers,
And most important:
Write like the wind: Amuse yourself, because in the end, that’s all that matters.
Blurb: All Stirred Up
After Brendan and his mother witness a completely random tragedy, his carefully controlled life begins to fall apart. First he starts having nightmares and panic attacks, and then he loses focus in his daily life. His board of directors insists he take a vacation at a so-called “relaxation destination” and to make matters worse, they’ve hired newly minted psychiatrist, Dr. Dirk Melovitch, to accompany him.
Dirk, whose job it is to help Brendan learn to relax, walks into the lobby of Brendan’s hotel wearing a borrowed suit and an attitude that rubs Brendan the wrong way from the moment they meet. They head for the airport and their carefully planned itinerary goes out the window, one small setback at a time.
From the airports of New York and Atlanta, to the long, lonely highways of Texas, to an upscale rehab destination in Santa Fe, Brendan and Dirk each try to gain the upper hand until both find out that it’s not just life that can get a guy All Stirred Up.
Grab your copy of All Stirred Up from Manlove Romance Press today!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog, Pt. 7"
Hey, all! Welcome to another Silver Flash Wednesday! Sorry I missed out last week, but I'm back with a bang! And banging. ;) This week's prompt was "Your ego is outrageous."
What felt like a long time ago, although it had been only yesterday, Amber had been a logical thinker, a young woman who watched her alcohol intake carefully, always studied for exams, and didn't let boys get in the way.
Now, there were werewolves and monsters and reincarnated Native Americans. And she felt the instinctive, carnal need to comfort her love--a need which she'd never experienced before. Raven needed to know that she'd survived the dog's wrath, that she was undeniably tangible. So she took his hand in hers, connecting them as she built up her courage. But she didn't need to; Raven was more than willing to take the initiative.
He pulled her close and landed a long, sensual kiss on her lips, giving them time to relish in the feel of one another. Amber's hands moved to his chest, exploring the muscles beneath his cotton t-shirt, letting her fingertips trail lower, until she found the hem of his shirt. She slipped her hands beneath the cotton fabric to feel his skin against the palm of her hands. Raven groaned and grasped her hip, pulling her closer, his tongue begging entry to her warm, wet mouth. Amber gave it gladly, twining her tongue with his, gasping as his hard erection pressed against the vee of her legs through their jeans.
Memories erupted in her mind. They were married. They'd been married by the same man who marked him. And on their wedding night, they'd played hide and go seek in what had been a much more expansive version of the woods, until Raven finally managed to catch her and drag her back to their wigwam for a night of passion she thought she'd never forget. But she had. And Raven had never had that luxury.
Her legs trembled, both from anticipation of the pleasure that was going to come and as a reminder from her injured leg that it was far from healed. Raven lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing his neck as he took her farther into the woods, away from the path. There was a tent nestled between two strong trees. Amber recognized the area immediately. It had been the exact location of their home together. Raven unzipped the flap, and Amber crawled in, lying on her back on his down sleeping bag, offering herself up to him.
He crawled in on top of her. His shirt was gone, and he made hers disappear quickly, along with her bra. Her body was new to him. She hoped it would please him, and by the way his head dipped to worship her breasts, she guessed it did. His wet mouth teased her nipples ruthlessly, making her squirm and moan as desire pulsed between her thighs. She couldn't take it. She needed him.
She reached between them to unclasp the button of his jeans, and he removed them quickly before tugging hers down her thighs, being careful not to aggravate her wound or displace the bandage around it. He kissed the injury sweetly, then worked his way up her body, stopping briefly to breathe her musky scent, to taste her. Amber arched up, begging him to continue, but he didn't. Instead, he pushed her patiently back down into the padded ground and continued his journey to her mouth. He kissed her again, then readied himself at her entrance and eased inside of her.
Amber's body was charged, electric, as if it had been searching for release from this one man her whole life. She raised her hips to meet his until he rested fully inside of her. Then he pulled away and plunged back in, beginning a series of slow, steady thrusts that made her toes curl. She held onto him for dear life, pressing her fingers into his skin, caressing the scar on his shoulder gently with her thumb. This was comforting, connecting...this was lovemaking. She'd never experienced it before. Raven cared for her so deeply, and she cared for him. She kissed his shoulder, followed his rhythm, until they were one breathless, moaning entity.
Protection never came into question. He was her husband. It was unnecessary. So when they reached their peak together, it was pure, skin on skin, and Amber felt every hot, wet drop of his desire as her body spasmed around him and he exploded within her.
It was over too soon. Amber wanted to feel that way forever. But she couldn't. Raven gave her one last kiss and separated himself from her. He'd gone quiet. He left the tent to put on his clothes, giving Amber more room to replace hers. She did so quickly. Something was wrong. A chill rose in the air. The happy moment of their reunion was over, and something sinister was taking its place.
She stepped outside of the tent. Raven's back was to her, his head was in his hands. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to speak.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked.
His tone was cocky, rude, unlike him. Amber just continued to watch and wait, refusing to dignify his question with a response. He still wouldn't look at her.
"Well?" he insisted. "Did you?"
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Say you love me. You do, don't you?"
"Raven..."
"What?" his voice was testy.
"Either something's wrong or your ego is outrageous. And I don't remember that about you."
The man was quiet for a moment, then he turned. His eyes had a crazy look to them. He took one step towards her, and she held her ground. Then he seemed suddenly himself again, if only for a moment.
"He knows," he said in that deep, pained tone that she heard too often from him.
"What do you mean?"
Raven pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. His body was shaking. Then he looked at her one more time, and his eyes were yellow, his voice not entirely his.
"He wants to take you again."
Be sure to check out this week's other flashers!
Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/
Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/
Lindsay Klug (m/f)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/
Sui Lynn (m/m)
http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/
Pia Valeno (m/m)
http://piaveleno.com/
Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/
Victoria Blisse (m/f)
http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/
What felt like a long time ago, although it had been only yesterday, Amber had been a logical thinker, a young woman who watched her alcohol intake carefully, always studied for exams, and didn't let boys get in the way.
Now, there were werewolves and monsters and reincarnated Native Americans. And she felt the instinctive, carnal need to comfort her love--a need which she'd never experienced before. Raven needed to know that she'd survived the dog's wrath, that she was undeniably tangible. So she took his hand in hers, connecting them as she built up her courage. But she didn't need to; Raven was more than willing to take the initiative.
He pulled her close and landed a long, sensual kiss on her lips, giving them time to relish in the feel of one another. Amber's hands moved to his chest, exploring the muscles beneath his cotton t-shirt, letting her fingertips trail lower, until she found the hem of his shirt. She slipped her hands beneath the cotton fabric to feel his skin against the palm of her hands. Raven groaned and grasped her hip, pulling her closer, his tongue begging entry to her warm, wet mouth. Amber gave it gladly, twining her tongue with his, gasping as his hard erection pressed against the vee of her legs through their jeans.
Memories erupted in her mind. They were married. They'd been married by the same man who marked him. And on their wedding night, they'd played hide and go seek in what had been a much more expansive version of the woods, until Raven finally managed to catch her and drag her back to their wigwam for a night of passion she thought she'd never forget. But she had. And Raven had never had that luxury.
Her legs trembled, both from anticipation of the pleasure that was going to come and as a reminder from her injured leg that it was far from healed. Raven lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing his neck as he took her farther into the woods, away from the path. There was a tent nestled between two strong trees. Amber recognized the area immediately. It had been the exact location of their home together. Raven unzipped the flap, and Amber crawled in, lying on her back on his down sleeping bag, offering herself up to him.
He crawled in on top of her. His shirt was gone, and he made hers disappear quickly, along with her bra. Her body was new to him. She hoped it would please him, and by the way his head dipped to worship her breasts, she guessed it did. His wet mouth teased her nipples ruthlessly, making her squirm and moan as desire pulsed between her thighs. She couldn't take it. She needed him.
She reached between them to unclasp the button of his jeans, and he removed them quickly before tugging hers down her thighs, being careful not to aggravate her wound or displace the bandage around it. He kissed the injury sweetly, then worked his way up her body, stopping briefly to breathe her musky scent, to taste her. Amber arched up, begging him to continue, but he didn't. Instead, he pushed her patiently back down into the padded ground and continued his journey to her mouth. He kissed her again, then readied himself at her entrance and eased inside of her.
Amber's body was charged, electric, as if it had been searching for release from this one man her whole life. She raised her hips to meet his until he rested fully inside of her. Then he pulled away and plunged back in, beginning a series of slow, steady thrusts that made her toes curl. She held onto him for dear life, pressing her fingers into his skin, caressing the scar on his shoulder gently with her thumb. This was comforting, connecting...this was lovemaking. She'd never experienced it before. Raven cared for her so deeply, and she cared for him. She kissed his shoulder, followed his rhythm, until they were one breathless, moaning entity.
Protection never came into question. He was her husband. It was unnecessary. So when they reached their peak together, it was pure, skin on skin, and Amber felt every hot, wet drop of his desire as her body spasmed around him and he exploded within her.
It was over too soon. Amber wanted to feel that way forever. But she couldn't. Raven gave her one last kiss and separated himself from her. He'd gone quiet. He left the tent to put on his clothes, giving Amber more room to replace hers. She did so quickly. Something was wrong. A chill rose in the air. The happy moment of their reunion was over, and something sinister was taking its place.
She stepped outside of the tent. Raven's back was to her, his head was in his hands. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to speak.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked.
His tone was cocky, rude, unlike him. Amber just continued to watch and wait, refusing to dignify his question with a response. He still wouldn't look at her.
"Well?" he insisted. "Did you?"
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Say you love me. You do, don't you?"
"Raven..."
"What?" his voice was testy.
"Either something's wrong or your ego is outrageous. And I don't remember that about you."
The man was quiet for a moment, then he turned. His eyes had a crazy look to them. He took one step towards her, and she held her ground. Then he seemed suddenly himself again, if only for a moment.
"He knows," he said in that deep, pained tone that she heard too often from him.
"What do you mean?"
Raven pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. His body was shaking. Then he looked at her one more time, and his eyes were yellow, his voice not entirely his.
"He wants to take you again."
Be sure to check out this week's other flashers!
Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/
Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/
Lindsay Klug (m/f)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/
Sui Lynn (m/m)
http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/
Pia Valeno (m/m)
http://piaveleno.com/
Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/
Victoria Blisse (m/f)
http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
For those of you who got a preview...
Oops. I clearly don't know what day it is. lol The Silver Flash will officially be up tomorrow, so stop back! ;)
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Guest Blogger: Pender Mackie
Welcome to another lovely Sunday, everyone! With me today is Pender Mackie (one of my personal faves) to talk about her latest release, Scent of Attraction.
Since my first published story, Scent of Attraction, was released in mid April I’ve been asked the same question again and again: How did I come up with the story?
Today I thought I’d write about … the making of Scent of Attraction.
Last October I was poking around on the Internet and came across a call for submissions for Silver Publishing. I’d been writing m/m stories for a couple of years but never submitted any of them to a publisher. I hadn’t quite worked up the nerve yet. As I sat there staring at my monitor I decided I’d do it. I’d write a story and submit it to Silver.
I didn’t want to submit something I’d already written so I needed an idea for a story. I’m one of those writers that start from a scenario rather than a specific character so I started thinking about romance and men and ‘what if’ scenarios.
With the holidays just around the corner I was Christmas shopping —with my usual lack of enthusiasm—when the perfect ‘what if’ scenario popped into my head.
In this case it was … what if a guy meets someone he’s overwhelmingly attracted to while the other man is shopping for a present for his boyfriend? Even worse, what if the poor guy works at a store and actually has to help pick out the present for the sexy man’s boyfriend? What if the handsome shopper is just as attracted but a firm believer in monogamy?
Since I have a bit of a mean streak, this scenario appealed to me. I happily abandoned my Christmas shopping and rushed home to work on my brand new story.
First I roughed out a brief bio for Shawn, my poor hapless salesman. This isn’t everything, I didn’t list his physical characteristics, his personality or his back story here, but these are little extra bits that fleshed out his character.
Favorite drink: amber rum and coke
Favorite movie: the Resident Evil series
Favorite book: Shawn’s not much of a reader
Favorite food: pizza
Favorite activity: video gaming
Favorite type of man: professional (Shawn’s a sucker for a man in a suit)
Then I did the same for Graham, the uber sexy shopper.
Favorite drink: white wine, especially Riesling
Favorite movie: Touch of Evil or any other movie in the film noir style
Favorite book: autobiographies
Favorite food: anything spicy (probably due to his Hispanic heritage)
Favorite activity: reading in bed, with a nice glass of wine
Favorite type of man: redheads (or strawberry blonds)
A surprising amount of these details worked their way into the story. The others helped me understand how each man would behave in specific situations.
The hard part (as for any writer) was getting it down with the right, nuance and tone for each scene.
Once I was satisfied, I sent my manuscript off to Silver and waited anxiously. Lucky for me, Silver is great about getting back to their writers quickly so they didn’t keep me in suspense for too long.
Now I’m busy working on my next story, Hit and Run. It’s about Gavin, a self-sufficient, slightly anti-social man who against his better judgment, falls for Jamie, his young, homeless mugger. There’s that mean streak again!
Blurb: Scent of Attraction
When Shawn takes a job at a cologne counter in a busy department store he hopes it’s the beginning of a successful career in the health and beauty industry.
But almost two years later Shawn is frustrated with his job and his love life. He’s still working the cologne counter, still single and still spending every night alone.
His job allows him to meet plenty of good-looking men but most of them are straight, and even when they aren't, Shawn is shy. He gets nervous and tongue-tied when he’s around a hot guy and the thought of going on a date with a complete stranger makes his stomach churn nervously.
When he meets friendly and outgoing Graham the attraction on both sides is intense and immediate.
Shawn might be willing to step out of his comfort zone this time, but there’s just one problem. Graham's already with someone else.
It looks like their relationship is over before they even share a kiss ...
Excerpt: Scent of Attraction
Shawn groaned quietly. Another day dealing with good-looking straight boys. He really wasn’t in the mood for them today. He groaned again and resisted tugging on his short, carefully gelled hair. Besides being an annoying reddish blond and ridiculously fine, if he touched it too much the spiked bits would flop over, ruining the overall effect. Plus, he'd look about twelve years old instead of the twenty-five he actually was.
He stood in the center of his workspace, grimacing at the glass and chrome-trimmed counters that surrounded him. The glare—combined with the insipid store music and the smell of too many competing colognes—was starting to give him a headache. His shift had barely started and it was the middle of the January sales so the store would be full of shoppers looking for things they wanted, but didn’t get for Christmas.
It was Shawn's least favorite time of year. He didn't much like winter and he didn't like the frenzied shoppers and their mindless consumerism. And he hated how the stores—including this one—pushed to sell more of everything from perfume to kitchen gadgets, as if people hadn't bought enough unnecessary junk at Christmas.
Shawn's bad mood wasn't really about gray skies or bargain-hunters, though. He knew the real reason. He'd been working at this stupid cologne counter for almost two years and still no promotion.
When he'd finished university and taken this job in a brand new city, Shawn had known he'd be pushing fragrances and skin products, but that was okay. He'd done his research. This company was one of the best in the industry and he knew they liked to promote from within, liked their executives to have ground-floor experience. It was even rumored that a couple of the VPs had started out on the fragrance or cosmetics counter, and Shawn was willing to pay his dues. He just hadn't expected it would take so long to get his first promotion, and his lack of progress was making him moody and frustrated.
But there were some good things about this job. He got to see a lot of nice looking guys—though most of them were straight. He didn't have to spend much time with Mandy; the annoying saleswoman working the cosmetics counter, and his coworker, Stefan, was great.
He'd met Stefan when he began this job and they'd become almost instant friends. Stefan was a few years older and in a long-term relationship, but he'd made an effort to befriend Shawn and show him around the city. His partner, Anthony, had been just as outgoing, and now Shawn had a couple of good friends so his social life was doing all right even if his career and love life sucked.
Stefan's shift would start soon, and Shawn knew he'd be here any minute—his coworker was obsessively punctual. As Shawn glanced at his watch, Stefan glided towards their counter in his usual snazzy business attire and, for some unknown reason, a ridiculous-looking, puffy down-filled coat. The coat was open and his hands were stuffed in the pockets. Stefan was wearing his best bland expression. That meant he was up to something.
"Morning, Shawn. Ready for another fun-filled day of adventure?"
Shawn shrugged, feigning indifference as he leaned against the counter.
"You could be a little more enthusiastic since I'm about to make all your dreams come true. Guess what I've got in my pocket?"
"Unless it's a dehydrated, instant boyfriend and a bottle of water, I don't want to know."
"Ha ha. Funny," Stefan huffed. He looked around carefully. “Where's Mandy?"
"Probably fixing her face."
"If she wears any more makeup she's going to need a heat gun to peel it all off. Here, I smuggled us in some coffee." Stefan carefully drew two takeout cups from his pockets.
Shawn brightened and pushed off from the counter. "Thanks." He accepted the coffee gratefully, taking greedy sips before stashing the cup behind the cash register sitting on the island in the middle of their station. Caffeine was almost as good as aspirin. He could actually feel the headache receding.
"Maybe you aren't making all my dreams come true but you're definitely at the top of my list of favorite people today."
"Aren't I always?" Stefan asked, grinning. He sipped his own coffee more sedately. "I like your dehydrated boyfriend idea. You could order him from the back of a comic book, like those sea monkeys."
"Yeah. You could skip the 'I like him, does he like me?' phase and the awkward first date stuff," Shawn joked. He was getting into this now. "Just add water and ta-da! Instant boyfriend. Plus, if he did something to annoy you, you could leave him on top of the radiator to dry out and shrivel up again," Shawn suggested, laughing.
"Please! Don't use the words 'shrivel' and 'boyfriend' together." Stefan shuddered theatrically as Shawn snickered.
* ** *
"Lord have mercy," Stefan muttered.
Shawn looked up, his knees stiff from prolonged kneeling. Stefan was gazing across the department store floor.
"What?" He turned awkwardly and sat on his haunches. Damn. His foot was asleep.
"Hot man at ten o'clock. To your left." Stefan spoke from the corner of his mouth as if he was in a prison yard relaying a message—jailbreak tonight, pass it on.
Shawn thought maybe Stefan had seen too many movies. It took him a few seconds to figure out where to look and when he did, he couldn't see beyond the counter from his position.
"He's coming over. Get up here!"
"Why?"
"He's hot and who knows? Maybe he's single."
"And gay?" Shawn asked only half-sarcastically.
"Maybe. Just get up here!" Stefan strode towards him and reached out to grab his arm. They both froze as the man reached their counter. Shawn looked at him, curious to see what all the fuss was about.
The man wasn't particularly tall but he did have a nicely muscled frame, light olive skin, and dark wavy hair pushed back from his forehead. The whole package was presented in a dark business suit and a crisp white shirt. Shawn's pulse picked up. He loved the sight of a good-looking guy in a smart suit, and this one was gorgeous.
Scent of Attraction is available at Silver Publishing http://silverpublishing.info/product_book_info/new-release-c-1/scent-of-attraction-p-261
Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Scent-of-Attraction-ebook/dp/B004VSYNUU
and several other well-known ebook sellers.
Thanks for visiting this blog and a big thank you to Heather, my fellow Silver Flash Fiction writer, for hosting me today.
If you’d like to read some of my flash fictions head over to my blog at: http://pendermackie.blogspot.com/
Since my first published story, Scent of Attraction, was released in mid April I’ve been asked the same question again and again: How did I come up with the story?
Today I thought I’d write about … the making of Scent of Attraction.
Last October I was poking around on the Internet and came across a call for submissions for Silver Publishing. I’d been writing m/m stories for a couple of years but never submitted any of them to a publisher. I hadn’t quite worked up the nerve yet. As I sat there staring at my monitor I decided I’d do it. I’d write a story and submit it to Silver.
I didn’t want to submit something I’d already written so I needed an idea for a story. I’m one of those writers that start from a scenario rather than a specific character so I started thinking about romance and men and ‘what if’ scenarios.
With the holidays just around the corner I was Christmas shopping —with my usual lack of enthusiasm—when the perfect ‘what if’ scenario popped into my head.
In this case it was … what if a guy meets someone he’s overwhelmingly attracted to while the other man is shopping for a present for his boyfriend? Even worse, what if the poor guy works at a store and actually has to help pick out the present for the sexy man’s boyfriend? What if the handsome shopper is just as attracted but a firm believer in monogamy?
Since I have a bit of a mean streak, this scenario appealed to me. I happily abandoned my Christmas shopping and rushed home to work on my brand new story.
First I roughed out a brief bio for Shawn, my poor hapless salesman. This isn’t everything, I didn’t list his physical characteristics, his personality or his back story here, but these are little extra bits that fleshed out his character.
Favorite drink: amber rum and coke
Favorite movie: the Resident Evil series
Favorite book: Shawn’s not much of a reader
Favorite food: pizza
Favorite activity: video gaming
Favorite type of man: professional (Shawn’s a sucker for a man in a suit)
Then I did the same for Graham, the uber sexy shopper.
Favorite drink: white wine, especially Riesling
Favorite movie: Touch of Evil or any other movie in the film noir style
Favorite book: autobiographies
Favorite food: anything spicy (probably due to his Hispanic heritage)
Favorite activity: reading in bed, with a nice glass of wine
Favorite type of man: redheads (or strawberry blonds)
A surprising amount of these details worked their way into the story. The others helped me understand how each man would behave in specific situations.
The hard part (as for any writer) was getting it down with the right, nuance and tone for each scene.
Once I was satisfied, I sent my manuscript off to Silver and waited anxiously. Lucky for me, Silver is great about getting back to their writers quickly so they didn’t keep me in suspense for too long.
Now I’m busy working on my next story, Hit and Run. It’s about Gavin, a self-sufficient, slightly anti-social man who against his better judgment, falls for Jamie, his young, homeless mugger. There’s that mean streak again!
Blurb: Scent of Attraction
When Shawn takes a job at a cologne counter in a busy department store he hopes it’s the beginning of a successful career in the health and beauty industry.
But almost two years later Shawn is frustrated with his job and his love life. He’s still working the cologne counter, still single and still spending every night alone.
His job allows him to meet plenty of good-looking men but most of them are straight, and even when they aren't, Shawn is shy. He gets nervous and tongue-tied when he’s around a hot guy and the thought of going on a date with a complete stranger makes his stomach churn nervously.
When he meets friendly and outgoing Graham the attraction on both sides is intense and immediate.
Shawn might be willing to step out of his comfort zone this time, but there’s just one problem. Graham's already with someone else.
It looks like their relationship is over before they even share a kiss ...
Excerpt: Scent of Attraction
Shawn groaned quietly. Another day dealing with good-looking straight boys. He really wasn’t in the mood for them today. He groaned again and resisted tugging on his short, carefully gelled hair. Besides being an annoying reddish blond and ridiculously fine, if he touched it too much the spiked bits would flop over, ruining the overall effect. Plus, he'd look about twelve years old instead of the twenty-five he actually was.
He stood in the center of his workspace, grimacing at the glass and chrome-trimmed counters that surrounded him. The glare—combined with the insipid store music and the smell of too many competing colognes—was starting to give him a headache. His shift had barely started and it was the middle of the January sales so the store would be full of shoppers looking for things they wanted, but didn’t get for Christmas.
It was Shawn's least favorite time of year. He didn't much like winter and he didn't like the frenzied shoppers and their mindless consumerism. And he hated how the stores—including this one—pushed to sell more of everything from perfume to kitchen gadgets, as if people hadn't bought enough unnecessary junk at Christmas.
Shawn's bad mood wasn't really about gray skies or bargain-hunters, though. He knew the real reason. He'd been working at this stupid cologne counter for almost two years and still no promotion.
When he'd finished university and taken this job in a brand new city, Shawn had known he'd be pushing fragrances and skin products, but that was okay. He'd done his research. This company was one of the best in the industry and he knew they liked to promote from within, liked their executives to have ground-floor experience. It was even rumored that a couple of the VPs had started out on the fragrance or cosmetics counter, and Shawn was willing to pay his dues. He just hadn't expected it would take so long to get his first promotion, and his lack of progress was making him moody and frustrated.
But there were some good things about this job. He got to see a lot of nice looking guys—though most of them were straight. He didn't have to spend much time with Mandy; the annoying saleswoman working the cosmetics counter, and his coworker, Stefan, was great.
He'd met Stefan when he began this job and they'd become almost instant friends. Stefan was a few years older and in a long-term relationship, but he'd made an effort to befriend Shawn and show him around the city. His partner, Anthony, had been just as outgoing, and now Shawn had a couple of good friends so his social life was doing all right even if his career and love life sucked.
Stefan's shift would start soon, and Shawn knew he'd be here any minute—his coworker was obsessively punctual. As Shawn glanced at his watch, Stefan glided towards their counter in his usual snazzy business attire and, for some unknown reason, a ridiculous-looking, puffy down-filled coat. The coat was open and his hands were stuffed in the pockets. Stefan was wearing his best bland expression. That meant he was up to something.
"Morning, Shawn. Ready for another fun-filled day of adventure?"
Shawn shrugged, feigning indifference as he leaned against the counter.
"You could be a little more enthusiastic since I'm about to make all your dreams come true. Guess what I've got in my pocket?"
"Unless it's a dehydrated, instant boyfriend and a bottle of water, I don't want to know."
"Ha ha. Funny," Stefan huffed. He looked around carefully. “Where's Mandy?"
"Probably fixing her face."
"If she wears any more makeup she's going to need a heat gun to peel it all off. Here, I smuggled us in some coffee." Stefan carefully drew two takeout cups from his pockets.
Shawn brightened and pushed off from the counter. "Thanks." He accepted the coffee gratefully, taking greedy sips before stashing the cup behind the cash register sitting on the island in the middle of their station. Caffeine was almost as good as aspirin. He could actually feel the headache receding.
"Maybe you aren't making all my dreams come true but you're definitely at the top of my list of favorite people today."
"Aren't I always?" Stefan asked, grinning. He sipped his own coffee more sedately. "I like your dehydrated boyfriend idea. You could order him from the back of a comic book, like those sea monkeys."
"Yeah. You could skip the 'I like him, does he like me?' phase and the awkward first date stuff," Shawn joked. He was getting into this now. "Just add water and ta-da! Instant boyfriend. Plus, if he did something to annoy you, you could leave him on top of the radiator to dry out and shrivel up again," Shawn suggested, laughing.
"Please! Don't use the words 'shrivel' and 'boyfriend' together." Stefan shuddered theatrically as Shawn snickered.
* ** *
"Lord have mercy," Stefan muttered.
Shawn looked up, his knees stiff from prolonged kneeling. Stefan was gazing across the department store floor.
"What?" He turned awkwardly and sat on his haunches. Damn. His foot was asleep.
"Hot man at ten o'clock. To your left." Stefan spoke from the corner of his mouth as if he was in a prison yard relaying a message—jailbreak tonight, pass it on.
Shawn thought maybe Stefan had seen too many movies. It took him a few seconds to figure out where to look and when he did, he couldn't see beyond the counter from his position.
"He's coming over. Get up here!"
"Why?"
"He's hot and who knows? Maybe he's single."
"And gay?" Shawn asked only half-sarcastically.
"Maybe. Just get up here!" Stefan strode towards him and reached out to grab his arm. They both froze as the man reached their counter. Shawn looked at him, curious to see what all the fuss was about.
The man wasn't particularly tall but he did have a nicely muscled frame, light olive skin, and dark wavy hair pushed back from his forehead. The whole package was presented in a dark business suit and a crisp white shirt. Shawn's pulse picked up. He loved the sight of a good-looking guy in a smart suit, and this one was gorgeous.
Scent of Attraction is available at Silver Publishing http://silverpublishing.info/product_book_info/new-release-c-1/scent-of-attraction-p-261
Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Scent-of-Attraction-ebook/dp/B004VSYNUU
and several other well-known ebook sellers.
Thanks for visiting this blog and a big thank you to Heather, my fellow Silver Flash Fiction writer, for hosting me today.
If you’d like to read some of my flash fictions head over to my blog at: http://pendermackie.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog, Pt. 6"
Welcome back to another Wednesday of flashing! I hope you enjoy part 6!
The other students gave him a barely-noticeable berth, subconciously curious and a bit afraid of the supernatural being. A black t-shirt and jeans graced his hard body. His dark eyes were locked on her. He had the look of a king on his throne, inspiring awe and a strange longing within her. But he wasn't a king. He was just hers--her king. The thought sent a rush through her veins, the same intense emotion she'd experienced in her dream, when they...Her cheeks grew hot, and she broke eye contact. Soon, she felt Raven near her. His hand touched her arm, his breath tickled her neck as he spoke quietly to her.
She raised her eyes to his again. Her feelings were muddled. She didn't know what she was supposed to say. Raven kissed her cheek, and just that tender gesture set fire to her veins.
Amber looked at him for a few long moments, examining him, soaking in the changes that he had gone through in the last hundred years or however long it had really been; the thick black mohawk and the proud posture of the warrior were gone. Her eyes lingered on the scar that marred his hand and on the ones she couldn't see. Raven shifted uncomfortably, and Amber's brown eyes met his.
The pain in Amber's leg was manageable. But she couldn't walk all the way to where she knew she'd find Raven--in the woods, by the lake. Where their home together once had been. She shook her head as she approached the exit of the building. It was as if she had two sets of memories. How was she supposed to handle this?
She still held the jacket in her hand. To return it or to keep as a momento, she wasn't sure. Her feet led her to the college's cafe. She would have a coffee and think things through. Jasmine might be there for a quick pick-me-up after whatever walk of shame she'd doubtless performed that morning. But when Amber stepped into the seating area, she didn't find Jasmine. She found Raven, sitting in the same seat as the previous day.
She still held the jacket in her hand. To return it or to keep as a momento, she wasn't sure. Her feet led her to the college's cafe. She would have a coffee and think things through. Jasmine might be there for a quick pick-me-up after whatever walk of shame she'd doubtless performed that morning. But when Amber stepped into the seating area, she didn't find Jasmine. She found Raven, sitting in the same seat as the previous day.
The other students gave him a barely-noticeable berth, subconciously curious and a bit afraid of the supernatural being. A black t-shirt and jeans graced his hard body. His dark eyes were locked on her. He had the look of a king on his throne, inspiring awe and a strange longing within her. But he wasn't a king. He was just hers--her king. The thought sent a rush through her veins, the same intense emotion she'd experienced in her dream, when they...Her cheeks grew hot, and she broke eye contact. Soon, she felt Raven near her. His hand touched her arm, his breath tickled her neck as he spoke quietly to her.
"You can't just pretend I'm not here."
She raised her eyes to his again. Her feelings were muddled. She didn't know what she was supposed to say. Raven kissed her cheek, and just that tender gesture set fire to her veins.
"Let's go for a ride," he suggested softly, taking the jacket gently from her hands and guiding her back through the double doors to his parked motorcycle. Amber climbed on behind him and held on tightly, both for safety and to feel him. She pressed her body against his, laid her cheek between his shoulder blades as her hair blew in the wind. He was tense. He didn't know how much she knew, but he had to know that something had changed.
They stopped on the paved path in the woods, and he dragged the vehicle off to the side, out of the way of anyone else who might come by, although the reserve appeared to be deserted. Then Raven folded his arms leaned his back against a tree, and watched her, waiting for her to make the first move.
Amber looked at him for a few long moments, examining him, soaking in the changes that he had gone through in the last hundred years or however long it had really been; the thick black mohawk and the proud posture of the warrior were gone. Her eyes lingered on the scar that marred his hand and on the ones she couldn't see. Raven shifted uncomfortably, and Amber's brown eyes met his.
"I had a dream," she admitted quietly. "I think they were memories. Of us."
For the first time since she met Raven, a small smile touched his lips. More easily now, he reached a hand out and touched her arm, caressed the skin with his thumb.
"I hoped it was you," he replied softly.
Raven pulled Amber in for a deep kiss, arousing a powerful desire that had remained dormant for the last century. It was as if she'd found a half of herself she hadn't known was missing. She knew deep down that she needed to join with him. That was the only chance she had to calm to tumult of emotion within her. But first she needed answers.
She pulled her lips away from Raven's but stayed in his arms, toying with the front of his jacket, refamiliarizing her fingertips with the feel of his torso through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Raven groaned softly, sending carnal urges ripping through Amber's body. But she bit down on her lip. She needed to focus. She needed answers. Raven pushed her tangled waves of auburn hair aside and kissed her neck tenderly, twining his fingers with hers, using the exact moves she'd remembered in her dream, remembering exactly how she liked to be touched, although she'd forgotten a long time ago.
Maybe she just needed one question answered. For now.
"Raven," she stopped him. "I just need to know what happened. What are you now? What were you then?"
Raven sighed, frustrated and clearly not wanting to discuss this as he pressed his forehead against hers.
"I made a mistake. I don't know how much you remember, but I was sent to hunt in an unfamiliar area. There was no food. The land seemed to change. Maybe I was sick, maybe it was a God playing a trick. It took me days to find the village again, and the only meat I had..." Raven stopped.
"The dog." Amber finished softly.
"The dog," he confirmed quietly. "I was desperate. I didn't have the faith in him I should have. And now...he's a part of me. With each moon, he takes over a little more of me."
"So last night..."
"The full moon. Every full moon. Unless he decides otherwise."
"You're a werewolf."
"In layman's terms."
"And he made you kill me."
Raven's body stiffened beneath her touch. His grip on her tightened.
"I tried to fight him. I promise. I tried to fight him. But his anger...He was too powerful."
"I know. I know he was."
Amber's heart clenched painfully in her chest, and she rubbed his arm soothingly. He'd been living with the guilt for all this time. It broke her heart.
"I tried to throw myself into the lake after," he admitted quietly. "But the monster wouldn't have me."
Be sure to check out the other flashers!
L. M. Brown (m/m)
http://lmbrownauthor.blogspot.com/
http://lmbrownauthor.blogspot.com/
Lindsay Klug (m/f)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/
Lynn (m/m)
http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/
http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/
Pia Valeno (m/m)
http://piaveleno.com/
http://piaveleno.com/
RJ Scott (m/m)
http://www.rjscott.co.uk/
http://www.rjscott.co.uk/
Victoria Blisse (m/f)
Pender Mackie (m/m)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)