Sunday, January 29, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday - Alien Conquest (Clans of Kalquor 3)

    Cassidy submitted to Tranis’ bite on her inner thigh without a whimper.  She wasn’t sure why he thought it necessary to intoxicate her.  She’d offered no resistance when he’d started kissing and caressing.
    As euphoria coursed through her veins, she wasn’t sorry he’d done it.  The intoxicant erased her guilt for the lust her sinful body subjected her to.  Now she wouldn’t mind that Tranis’ touch made her wet and aching for his magnificent body. 

Available from New Concepts Publishing, Amazon for Kindle, and Barnes & Noble for Nook

Saturday, January 28, 2012

The Writing of Alien Slave (Clans of Kalquor 5)

When I think of all the inspirations that went into Alien Slave, my head fairly whirls.  There were so many, it’s hard to sort them all out.  I’ll keep it simple and tell you about the four biggest ideas that contributed to the latest installment of the Clans of Kalquor.

Let me first explain that because something inspires me, it doesn’t mean that specific element will end up in the story.  My first inspiration, the vision of an alien sex slave auction, did not make it into Alien Slave.  But it led to the idea of the Dantovonian brothels I’ve mentioned in previous books and a sex worker named Dani Watson.  When it came down to it, it was her experience as someone who performs intimate acts for money that got the story rolling.  How an Earther coming from a repressive society could have ended up a sex slave – a willing sex slave – made for a very different heroine from previous ones in the series.  Her impulsive decision to sign on as a Dantovonian brothel worker was very indicative of Dani’s emerging impetuous nature.

This led to Inspiration #2:  the poor little rich girl whose reckless behavior constantly lands her in trouble.  Dani is a complicated, sometimes unsympathetic heroine.  Often I found myself wanting to shake her.  She’s self-absorbed and acts before she thinks things through.  She can be downright unlikeable at times.  But there’s a wounded quality that also made me want to give her a hug and tell her things aren’t as bad as they appear.  That she can find people out there to love and trust with all her heart, without fear they’ll abandon her. 

Speaking of damaged characters, Imdiko Krijero was my third inspiration.  I’ve written about the uber-confident clans of Rajhir, Clajak, and Tranis.  That trend changed with Bacoj’s clan in Alien Salvation.  This young clan was still growing into their poise, which was fascinating for me to chart.  After that, I was ready to explore a Kalquorian who had real issues.  So now we have Krijero, an Imdiko as raw and hurting as Dani.  A stunning past rejection has combined with physical and social awkwardness to make him fear getting close to others.  He is not confident in the relationship department, though he is a fully mature man with intelligence, good looks, position, and rank.  Even the many assurances from his sympathetic clanmates cannot convince Krijero he isn’t lacking.

The final inspiration I’ve blogged about before.  My husband is absolutely addicted to survival shows, so I’m often bombarded with images of people eating bugs, drinking their own urine, and starting fires by rubbing two sticks together.  Putting my characters in a primitive survival situation and having them chased by mortal enemies was the last ingredient to be added to Alien Slave. 

It all came together in a way that I’m very happy with.  Stubborn, selfish Dani is ready to come face to face with three men who refuse to coddle her demons; men who won’t give her all she wants but will give her what she needs.  Krijero is about to get schooled in that just because someone might reject him, it doesn’t mean he’s unworthy.  Dramok Gelan and Nobek Wynhod have their hands full dealing with these two, and they’ll do it while fighting desperately to stay alive.

Coming from New Concepts Publishing February 17

Friday, January 27, 2012

First Five Friday - Alien Rule (Clans of Kalquor 2)

    Jessica and Michaela peeked between the curtains blocking the enclosed back area from the stage.  The Coming of Age Festival was in full swing, and the crowds were huge.  With all the merrymaking, a casual observer would never know a blockade of warships surrounded the planet.
    The stage was across from the object that the city was built around.  The center of Plasius’ unnamed capital was a great stone altar that had been carved so long ago no one knew who its maker had been. 

Available from New Concepts Publishing, Amazon for Kindle, and Barnes & Noble for Nook.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Thursday Update - What’s Up and What’s Coming

So here’s the latest and greatest on what’s happening in Tracyland:

Alien Salvation:  Clans of Kalquor 4 is now available from New Concepts Publishing, Fictionwise, Amazon for Kindle, and Barnes & Noble for Nook.

Netherworld:  Drop Dead Sexy:  The first of this series is up at New Concepts Publishing, coming to other distributors around the beginning of March.

Alien Slave:  Clans of Kalquor 5 is tentatively scheduled for release from New Concepts Publishing  February 17.

Netherworld II:  Blood Potion No. 9:  Finished and under consideration by my publisher.

Alien Interludes:  I have just finished the first drafts of this collection of short stories and novellas.  It includes eight new stories about the clans we already love, plus one introducing the heroine of the upcoming Alien Redemption.

The Font:  This first draft is on the verge of completion.

Netherworld III:  Once Bitten, Twice Dead:  Outline completed, starting first draft soon. 

Alien Redemption:  Clans of Kalquor 6 – we’re almost finished creating Imdiko Conyod.  If everyone wishes to help with creating the rest of the clan, new polls will be appearing every week (instead of every two).  More details to follow soon.

The Phucket List:  Personal problems have cropped up for my co-writer, keeping this one on the back burner for now.  Rest assured it will be worth the wait.

Television pilot:  You won’t catch the name ‘Tracy St. John’ on the credits since the industry refuses to take erotic writers seriously.  Having me attached to this project could do it more harm than good.  But I did have a hand in it and if it goes into production I will get my share of the pie, so here’s the scoop.  A television producer friend of mine created a comedy series pilot about a young woman, her two female roommates, and her offbeat family.  Our intent was to make it sexy, quirky, and fun.  The whole pilot has been shot, and it’s in editing now.  To gain support, it will be posted in parts on YouTube in the future.  I will keep you updated as this project moves along.

That’s it (and more than enough) for now!

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

WIP Wednesday - The Font

    A brief lull in the hushed conversations of the gathered vampires alerted Elisha, and he looked once more towards where the self-described king sat.  A human woman had come into the room to stand at Heriolf’s side.
    Elisha knew her name to be Naya Woods.  Out of Heriolf’s hearing, many referred to her as the Font, a suggestion of powerful blood that had been borne out by a captured member of the king’s inner circle.  Other than these things, nothing of note was known about her.
    Taken piece by piece, she was not a beauty.  Her pale blond hair, reaching to her waist, was too flyaway and untamed.  Her eyes, as green as the ubiquitous pine needles of Georgia, were too large and too round to balance her tiny chin.  Her nose was long and straight, and her lips, while well-formed, were thin slashes of pink.  Her body was so willowy as to make her appear taller than she actually was, especially in the sweeping gown she wore tonight, its green skirt that matched her eyes reaching the marble floor.  There was an aloof restraint in her demeanor that suggested she was above the pettiness of the world around her, but gazing at her for only a few seconds told the observer this regal bearing was but a mask she wore.  Beneath it, there was a nervous fluttering of fingers, a jerkiness of the darting eyes that took in everything, and a tension in her stance that spoke of a willingness to take flight.  She was at her heart a wild thing, as untamed as the floating froth of hair that moved with its own life around her torso.
    In parts, Naya was not even pretty.  But put together, she was striking, a pale will o’ the wisp that pleased the eye even as it confounded it.  That such a dainty ethereal being gave Heriolf his power over all other vampires made her even more compelling.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday - Alien Rule (Clans of Kalquor 2)

Jessica recognized many of the willowy bronze-skinned Plasians.  They were of the elite class, advisors to Saucin Israla.  Israla herself sat front and center with four Earther males surrounding her.  The Plasian leader was already nude, her perfectly proportioned body betraying none of her advanced years.  None of her companions was over the age of twenty.  Israla’s delight in young, virginal men was legendary.

Available from New Concepts Publishing, Amazon for Kindle, and Barnes & Noble for Nook

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Create a Kalquorian: New Poll is Up

It's that time again, and we're now doing the next-to-the-last poll to create our Imdiko.  It's up to you to choose Conyod's childhood event that changed his life.  Ready ... set ... vote!

Results from last poll:  You decided Conyod's greatest accomplishment was being chosen to be a part of the Earther Matara psychological team.  Out of over two hundred applicants he was top choice.  Good work, all.

Friday, January 20, 2012

First Four Friday - Alien Embrace

Chapter 5

    Flencik waited until Amelia's breath became deep and steady.  Once he felt sure the sedative he'd given her had taken hold, he carried her to his lab.
    The stark room accomodated an examination table, surgical instruments and a mini-lab.  All were on loan from the local Plasian medical center.

Available from New Concepts Publishing, Amazon for Kindle, and Barnes & Noble for Nook.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Create a Kalquorian: New Poll Coming Saturday

Every person has some childhood event that shapes them for the rest of their life.  Whether it's the loss of a loved one, divorce, illness, or some other game changer, we've all experienced something that colored our world from then on.  On Saturday, we will begin to discover what Imdiko Conyod went through in his childhood that made him the man he is now.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

WIP Wednesday - Alien Interludes: Michaela's Child

     Uh oh, it looks like the honeymoon might be over for one of our heroines and her clan.  Relationships don't always glide along smoothly, and it's a measure of a clan's commitment as to how well they weather storms.  Michaela isn't feeling the love these days because real life has intruded on her marital bliss.

    Michaela had dinner on the table when the first of her clan arrived home for the evening.  Govi, her Imdiko mate, gave her a quick peck on the top of her head as he entered the dining room.  “It smells good.  I hope I can stay awake long enough to enjoy it.”
    She offered him a wan smile.  Govi was Kalquor’s leading expert on Earther female psychology, putting in long hours at the psychiatric branch of the local hospital.  Once upon a time, he’d even succeeded in making her feel worthy of love.
    Weariness masked his good looks as he dropped heavily onto a seating cushion on the floor.  His long blue-black hair was mussed from his habit of raking his fingers through it.  His 68 years, young yet for a Kalquorian, didn’t show on his movie-star handsomeness.  His lips were almost too sensuous for a man, but his nose was straight and long, his jaw strong.
    Michaela wished his blue-purple gaze would search her out, but instead his cat’s eyes closed as he leaned his face into his palm, his elbow propped on one bent knee.
    Michaela dropped to her own cushion at the opposite end of the low dining table.  She looked at the assorted dishes without a hint of appetite.  “You might as well eat.  I haven’t heard from the other two as to when they’ll be home.”
    Govi nodded with a yawn and stretched.  Despite her depression, Michaela couldn’t help but admire his lean muscled body that filled out his black formsuit so delightfully.  Her center heated as it always did, thinking of how he looked when he was naked and crouched over her, thrusting deeply into her body.
    She’d lost count of the weeks since he’d last touched her.  Since any of them had.
    Govi ladled a hearty stew made of ronka meat and local fresh vegetables into his bowl. His long-lashed eyes closed in appreciation at the first bite.  “You made this.”
    “Guilty as charged.”  She found a smile at his approval.
    “I can always tell your cooking from the main kitchen's.  You put your heart into it.”
    He still didn’t look at her even as he praised the meal.  Maybe he no longer could bear the sight of her.  Michaela’s stomach was heavy, as if a rock lodged within it.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday - Alien Embrace (Clans of Kalquor 1)

    And commanding Rajhir; what would he do to her if he were here?
    He'd take her, pressing his penises deep into her as Flencik continued to massage her pleasure bud.  She felt the Dramok forcing her open to receive him, his determined thrusts burying him in her yielding flesh over and over ... yes ... how sweet.
    Standing over her, Breft prodded her lips with his larger membe.  His intense stare, the unspoken command excited her.  If she refused to obey, would he punish her?

Available from New Concepts Publishing, Amazon for Kindle, and Barnes & Noble for Nook

Friday, January 13, 2012

First Four Friday - The Font (WIP)

Scene 1

    Elisha Midyet slipped through the throng of the king’s hall, nodding at the gathered vampires, saying a word of greeting in response to hails, and trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.   Trying to control his thoughts, lest Heriolf read them and learn of tonight’s plans.
    Still, he couldn’t quite suppress an inward sneer at the situation.  Everything about tonight, about the last seven years, brought loathing to the fore. 

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

WIP Wednesday - Netherworld II: Blood Potion No. 9

Now that some of you have had an opportunity to meet Brandilynn and the gang (Netherworld:  Drop Dead Sexy released last Friday), you have a better basis to understand how things are between our dead escort and the two men vying for her affections:  Dan and Tristan.  But wait ... who's this werewolf that's grabbed her attention now?  

    He was a fine example of his breed.  His tanned face bore black markings, rimming big gold-brown eyes, accentuating strong cheekbones and outlining his slightly furred jaw.  His nose and mouth were human, but they angled out in the beginnings of a wolfish snout, and his sharp canines peeked out as he spoke.  His salt-and-pepper hair, caught back in a ponytail, hung between his shoulders.  I thought his speckled hair might be more a testament to his wolf coloring than age related.
    He was a little more muscle-bound than I prefer my men, but he was a long ways from offending my eyes.  He had the body of a comic book hero.  Rawr.  I had an urge to stroke the light, soft-looking fur that sprinkled his chiseled chest, well exposed by the leather vest he wore.  Stained, ripped jeans molded well to big thick thighs.
    I sighed.  Had I been Little Red Riding Hood confronted by this wolf, I would be begging him to eat me up.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Alien Slave Book Release News

I just got word that Alien Slave (Clans of Kalquor 5) is tentatively scheduled for release February 17.  Wow, that really seems kind of soon, don't you think?  Should I ask them to delay it just a little bit?  ;)

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday - The Font (WIP)

     Naya carefully schooled her expression, as she always did, to remain expressionless.  She despised these gatherings for many different reasons, but uppermost was the fear.  She was sure the other vampires knew of the extra strength Heriolf took from her blood, the added advantage it gave him over his enemies, many of whom posed as supplicants.  She felt it in the covetous glances they darted her way when her guardian wasn’t looking.
    She tried to feel safe.  After all, Heriolf had provided her with his most trusted guards, big fearsome men who had physical strength as well as the best psychic powers of their kind.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Create a Kalquorian: New Poll is Up

You voted and Conyod has a hobby:  breeding champion kestarsh, the Kalquorian version of the horse.  It was neck-and-neck for most of the voting between that and amateur historian, but at the very end, you equestrian lovers came through. 

Now you get to choose our Imdiko's greatest accomplishment, the one that has given him the most pride in himself.  Is it that his breeding efforts produced a champion?  Is it saving the life of a suicidal Nobek?  Beating out hundreds of other applicants to join the Earther Matara psychological team?  Or that his higher-ranking clanmates chose him for an Imdiko?  That's for you to decide, so vote!

Going Underground in the Netherworld

The first of this new series is out, and I’m so excited for you all to finally read it.  I can’t begin to tell you how much fun I’ve had creating Netherworld and the characters that fill it:  Brandilynn Payson, the ghost of a dead escort; Dan Saling, the sexily rugged ghost with a dark past; Tristan Keith, the gorgeous vampire leader of Fulton Falls; Augustus, the griffin oracle who speaks in enigmatic riddles … and so many more.

Most of you are familiar with my sci-fi series, Clans of Kalquor.  Obviously, Netherworld is going to be a different group of stories.  Besides being paranormal erotica, Netherworld also has repeat characters who return in each installment, unlike Clans of Kalquor which focuses on a new clan in each story.  Also, Clans of Kalquor tends to be a darker series, whereas Netherworld has some humor working for it (at least that’s what I intended).  At this point I have five books planned for Brandilynn and company, with the second now about to go to the publisher and the third in outline.  Who knew being dead could keep a girl so busy?

I love characters who can’t be cast in shades of black and white.  The people of Netherworld are definitely in varying shades of gray.  Brandilynn slept with men for money, tends to be somewhat shallow, and has more baggage than an airline.  Dan did something in his life that even he can’t wrap his head around the horror of.  Tristan, being a vampire, has probably killed an innocent or two though you won’t hear this from him.  These are usually good people, but they’re all guilty of doing bad things.  At times they even try to justify less than ethical actions.  But that’s the human condition, something we’ve all fallen into the trap of.  What separates the good from the bad are our attempts to be honest with ourselves and to right the wrongs we’ve committed against not just others, but also ourselves.

At its heart, however, the Netherworld series is simply my attempt to write you fun stories that will entertain, excite, and entice you to grab your favorite sex partner for some playful romping.  I hope I succeeded.  And now for one last excerpt:

I’ve never been one to shrink from bad news, even when every cell of my being screams for me to run like all get out.  I would face this head on too.  “Am I dead?”
Dan took my hand and tugged me to the couch.  We sat next to each other, close enough that our thighs touched.  He put an arm around my shoulders.  “You really are dead, Brandilynn.   I’m sorry.”
I looked at him.  Felt him beside me.  I sensed pressure, the sensation of touch, but no warmth from him.  “You’re dead too?”
“For the last 22 years.”
Dead.  I felt the truth of it.  I wasn’t having a nightmare.  I, Brandilynn Payson, had died.  Been murdered, in fact, by the vampire serial killer who left his drained victims in the pine farms all over Ford County. 
But it made no sense that I had crossed paths with the Fulton Falls Ripper.  I should have been safe because I wasn’t a street prostitute.  I worked as an escort whose clients were the most powerful men in Fulton Falls, as well as the rest of the state of Georgia.  I wasn’t one of those pathetic blood groupies who offered themselves to the long-toothed.  Still, the evil had somehow found me.
I was dead.
Okay, I’m not in pain, and I’m not burning in Hell.  This isn’t so bad.  I can handle it, right?  Yep, Miss Brandilynn is still here and still rocking this joint.  No problem.
Sure.  No problem at all.
To Dan I said, “This is screwy as heck.  We’re ghosts?”
He nodded and watched me, as if waiting for me to fly apart in a flood of tears. 
Not me.  Brandilynn Payson had her big girl panties on.  I may shed a few tears once in awhile, but I’m no wuss.
“I was killed by the Fulton Falls Ripper?”
“That’s right.”  His arm tightened even more.
I thought about it really hard.  I felt myself frown and automatically stopped.  No frown lines.  Then I almost laughed.  I was dead.  No need to worry about looking my best to survive now.  Survival was a thing of the past.
“I don’t remember being killed,” I told Dan.  “You know, I can remember my day-to-day routine just fine.  But I can’t remember anything in particular right now.”
He nodded, his expression grave.  “Traumatic death often results in memory loss of the event.”
I had the urge to kiss the seriousness right off his face.  He honestly looked that scrumptious.  And sex would be a wonderful way to delay thinking too hard about the implications of my situation.  Distraction beckoned, wanting to replace the rising terror.  Yes, it was much better to contemplate screwing the man beside me.  I dove headlong into the simplicity of lust.
Dead and horny.  How weird can a girl be? 
Fortunately, Dan felt awesomely right as he held me.  Bless his heart, he tried to shield me from the worst news a person can get. 
It hit me again.  I’m dead. 
I really needed to not think about that.
Dan stroked my hair.  He said, “We need to try to recover your memory of what happened so we can catch the killer and bring him to justice.” 
I had a vision of Marlboro Man riding the wild frontier, searching for the varmint who laid low poor little Brandilynn Payson, the saloon girl with a heart of gold.  I couldn’t help but snicker.  The notion of a ghost posse catching a killer tickled me.  “What do you do with him when you catch him?  String him up from a ghost tree?”
Dan chuckled at me.  “There’s a more permanent solution to that problem, especially since the killer is most definitely a vampire.”
“Which is?”
Another voice answered me.  “We stake his ass and burn him to ashes.”
I looked up.  My eyes widened, startled to see a man leaning on one of the long reading tables that stood nearby.  I froze like a statue as I recognized Tristan Keith, ruler of the Fulton Falls vampire clutch.
            I do not mix with paranormals, or as we refer to them, paras.  Especially not vampires.  The undead creep me out.
            Were-creatures are scary too, and I’d probably flip out if confronted with a dragon, harpy or gargoyle.  But when it comes to flat-out scary, vampires take the cake.  It certainly didn’t help my present frame of mind to realize one had killed me.
            Which brought up a new concern:  how had I ended up in the company of one to get murdered?  I would have never been an escort for one.  It’s even in my contract.  I might have been on a human client’s arm at a party where vampires attended, but I would have kept my distance from the bloodthirsty monsters.
            Dan stood, helping me to my feet.  “Tristan, this is Brandilynn Payson.  Brandilynn, Tristan Keith.
            Tristan stepped forward, his hand extended.  “I’m sure it’s no pleasure for you, Miss Payson, but may I say I’m thrilled to see you.  Good work finding her, Dan.”
            I looked at my town’s most well-known vampire with trepidation.  I had to admit he didn’t look terribly vampy.  In fact, he looked normal.  His hair was short in an old-fashioned haircut typical of the 1920’s, the decade he’d become a vampire.  Clean-shaven, looking not a day over 30, with sharp, handsome features.  Not rugged and somehow worn like Dan, but elegantly masculine in the way of old-time movie actors like Errol Flynn and Clark Gable.
            Okay, I’ll admit it.  The darn bloodsucker looked as scrumptious as my Marlboro Man.  I couldn’t discern the slightest bit of undead about him.  He inspired visions of naughtiness dancing in my head.
            I hesitantly accepted his hand.  In a move that made me catch my breath in appreciation, he kissed the back of mine.  No one did that these days, and I was impressed.  Mr. Keith had charm to spare.
            Of course vampires are known for their abilities to seduce.  That’s why so many of us humans fear their kind.  As a mortal, one could never truly know the trouble she was getting into until it was too late and she was woozy from a lack of blood.
            Or dead.
            I pulled my hand free of Tristan’s.  I wondered why I feared him.  After all, didn’t being dead mean I had nothing left to lose?  It wasn’t as if he could kill me again.
            “I thought vampires could only come out at night,” I said.
He smiled winningly at me.  Tristan Keith was the county commission’s only para member, and more than one of my clients had whispered the vampire had his eyes on the state legislature.  Considering paras had only been eligible to run for office for the last 30 years, that said something about his ability to charm. 
He said, “During the day when my body dies I am no more than a ghost, the same as you.  When my body re-animates, my soul is drawn back to it.”
“No wonder you don’t look vampy.” 
He grinned, not looking at all like a bloodsucker.  “Disappointed?”
I relaxed.  He wasn’t a fanged monster right now, and I could deal with that.  Especially since he was so nice to look at.  “I keep clear of vampires.”  At his raised eyebrow I added, “No offense.  I’m sure you’re nice enough.  The voters sure like you.”
Tristan chuckled.  “My kind has a reputation, especially among those who don’t care to get to know us.”  As I mused over whether or not he’d just insulted me, he spoke to Dan.  “Does she remember anything?”
“No, she’s still in shock.”
The last of my worry about talking to a vampire fled before a sudden spark of anger.  “I’m right here.  Don’t talk about me like I’m not.”
He gave me that raised eyebrow again.  “So you are.  My apologies.”  Tristan bowed a little.  Very courtly, but his dismissal had offended me.  Worse, I still sensed condescension. 
Incensed, I glared at both of them.  Dan looked embarrassed, but Tristan just seemed fascinated, as if I was a dog that had suddenly started talking.  I got angrier.  A girl true to her red hair, I meant for Mr. County Commissioner, vampire or not, to realize the error of his ways.
“Just because I’m an escort doesn’t make me an idiot.”  If I’d had fangs myself, I would have bared them at him.
Tristan finally looking chastened.  “Of course not.  I didn’t mean—” 
“Yes you did.  It’s just like a man to think a girl who gets along on her back is stupid, not capable of doing anything of merit.  For your information, I was my high school’s class valedictorian.”  I babbled, unable to dam up the stream of words pouring from my mouth.  “I went to college on a scholarship, Mr. Big-shot Vampire, and I have –  I had dreams that went beyond screwing for the capital to realize those dreams, and you should have a little compassion for someone who just died and found out she’s not going to realize those dreams and, and—”
Oh poop.  I was breaking down, my eyes filling with tears and tightness closing down my throat.  I fought it for all I was worth.  I refused to cry.   But both men had closed in on me, stroking my hair, patting my back, making comforting shushing noises that brought the pain ever closer to erupting in horrified sobs.  I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes shut.
I’m tougher than this. 
On the other side of my closed eyes, Tristan whispered, “I’m sorry Brandilynn.  What happened to you is a travesty, one I’m trying to take care of before anyone else dies.”
His voice sounded so kind, totally different from the calculated charm I’d heard on television news soundbites.  I opened my eyes to see both men right there, looking down on me.  Over six feet tall, Tristan towered over me and Dan.  I found myself comparing them.  So different, but equally yummy.  I gratefully drowned the grief in pure, innocent lust, then thought twice about that solution too.
Turn your motor off, Brandilynn.  Have some self-respect.  You’re dead for heaven’s sake!
But flirting is as second-nature to me as breathing.  I couldn’t help myself, so I asked Tristan, “Are you this nice when you’re a vampire?”
“No.”  His handsome face turned dark, but he stayed utterly human.  “I’m very different when I return to my body.”
“That’s too bad.”  I meant it, because my word, he was gorgeous as all get out.  Looking at him made me feel a whole lot better.  I decided being horny did beat being hysterical with grief after all.
“What can we do to make you feel better?” Dan asked.
My Marlboro Man so shouldn’t have asked that question because of course my mind went where it shouldn’t.  How could it not with them both standing there, looking good enough to eat?
We needed to talk about the weather or the season the Braves were going to have this year before I humiliated myself.  But before I could switch the tracks my naughty brain-train ran on, Tristan flashed his devastating grin.  “Ah yes, the one thing that makes us all feel alive and well.”
The men exchanged knowing smirks and I wished the floor would open beneath me and swallow me whole.  How embarrassing.
Tristan laughed out loud, and his voice rolled over me, giving me shivers.  Darn, this man didn’t need the extra charm being a vampire would give him.  He had charisma to spare already.  Tracing a finger down my arm, he said, “Don’t look so horrified, my girl.  We all use sex here to affirm our existence.  The dead have nothing but time and little to fill it with, so lovemaking is a very casual affair in the netherworld.”
Trust a man to put the words ‘casual’ and ‘sex’ in the same speech.  The glint in Dan’s eyes told me he shared Tristan’s view.  Well, I wasn’t easy, and I’d never been cheap.  Not even with two bona fide hunks like these.
Loftily I informed them, “I sleep with a very select few of my regulars, but I never thought of myself as a real whore.  I’m quite particular.”
Tristan’s face turned sad as if breaking terrible news.  “You might not always be.  Not here, not when the centuries lie before you, dulling all with the neverending monotony of death.  Almost everyone here, no matter how prudish in life, turns into a whore just to fill the time.” 
His hand smoothed back up my arm, curling around my shoulder, sliding to cup the back of my neck.  I felt the strength in his grip and my lower parts clenched.   Oh glory.  I was in trouble here.
Dan looked back and forth between the two of us.  “Should I leave?”
Tristan answered.  “It’s up to you.  I don’t mind.”
Whoa.  My mind reeled as I contemplated the idea of enjoying both men at once.  Okay, maybe I was easy after all.  I’d never considered doing such a thing before … but then I’d never been faced with two gorgeous examples of the opposite sex willing to share before either.  Were there consequences to such actions?  What’s the worst that could happen to a girl who’s already dead?  

 Now Available from New Concepts Publishing