Thursday, May 31, 2012

Update - May 31, 2012


The latest on my books:

Alien Interludes:  Clans of Kalquor Short Stories is doing terrific.  Thanks for supporting my foray into self-publishing, all!  You can get it on Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, and now Kobo.  And I did break down and release it in print for you tree book lovers (the cover is slightly different from the ebook due to formatting constraints).  Pick it up from Amazon.

Netherworld II:  Blood Potion No. 9 is scheduled for release on June 8 from New Concepts Publishing. 


The Font has been proofread and now possesses a gorgeous cover, thanks to Erin Dameron-Hill.  Look for it on Kindle, Nook, and Smashwords June 29.

Netherworld III:  Once Bitten Twice Dead now has a completed first draft.  You know what that means?  It means I can now start writhing the first draft of:

Alien Redemption (Clans of Kalquor 6):  The clan you created via polls on this blog is about to commence on their adventure. 

The Phucket List:  After a delay, this story is back on track.  My co-writer Megan Zeise and I are working hard on this fun-filled romp.

And here’s a little something for you to think about.  One of my readers suggested I write some prequels to the Clans of Kalquor books.  In these stories we would see how the men of the clans got together.  I am totally up for a run of prequels; a Clans of Kalquor Beginnings series.  Obviously, we are talking about mostly M/M/M sexual situations (which personally, I love).  I’m curious to know what the rest of you think, so I will post a poll starting tomorrow asking if you would or would not read this series.  Thanks in advance for participating.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

WIP Wednesday – Netherworld III: Once Bitten Twice Dead


Something infernal is stalking Fulton Falls, destroying ghosts and turning the living into zombies.

            I trotted down the remains of the cobblestone road, ignoring the strange, electric sensation of roots and debris passing through my body.  A packed dirt cross street was just ahead, and I turned left off the cobblestone remains off the main drag to follow the cry I’d heard.
            It came again.  It was definitely a sound of desperate panic, and I ran faster than ever to find whoever was making it.  I had no idea if it was a result of whatever had emptied out the other thin places or was a simple case of normal crime.  All I knew was that someone was in real trouble, and they needed help.
            I raced past a row of brick and tabby building remains.  Movement to my left caught my eye, and I went towards it, darting around larger roots and trying to get a look at what hazards I was heading into.
            An opening appeared before me, allowing me a sightline into an area not overgrown.  What I saw stopped me in my tracks.
            A young woman, perhaps my own age when she’d died, was twisting and struggling.  Her pretty face, framed with pale blond hair, was wrenched with pain and terror as she fought.  Tears ran down her face.  
            As for what she fought … my eyes tried to make sense of it.  It was black with dull silver ripples running through it.  The best way I can describe it is it appeared like an oil slick come to life.  It ran in thick strands over the woman, clinging to her with hooks that appeared at its edges.  It wrapped her flailing limbs with the slow sinuous touch of a lover.  It made no sound at all.
            The young woman went to her knees, still fighting.  She shrieked.  Over her head, a round blob stretched from the black thing, and I saw the silver ripples arrange themselves into the semblance of a face.  Eyes shimmered, the suggestion of a nose, and finally a smiling mouth that stretched wide to display glittering fangs.  The pseudo-face dipped down, depending from a long rope of black tentacle.  The face disappeared as it slithered forward, burying itself against the woman’s throat.

Tentatively scheduled for September 2012 release

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday – Alien Interludes: An Improper Proposal



Even better was the fact Jessica was little concerned with appearances too.  She came running towards the shuttle at full speed, skirt flapping wildly behind her, screaming her sibling’s name in a long, drawn out shriek:  “Liiiiiiiindseeeeey!”

And the elder sister, so not interested in descending regally at Bacoj’s side with Japohn and Vax trailing after, flew out of the shuttle.  Lindsey flung her arms wide as she screamed too, a wordless shout of triumph and joy.  The women met in an almost violent collision.  The air filled with their sobs and laughter, arms holding tight and lips peppering kisses on each others’ faces like lovers too long separated. 

Available from Amazon Kindle, Nook, and Smashwords

Friday, May 25, 2012

First Four Friday – Netherworld: Drop Dead Sexy




Chapter 18

I don’t know how long I cried.  When I finally stopped, I noted with horror the reddish-orange light filtering into the shack.  The sun was setting, and the vampire would be climbing into his body pretty soon. 
He planned to kill Tristan.

Available from Amazon Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, and NCP

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

WIP Wednesday – The Font




           June 29 is the release date for this erotic vampire novella.  Proofing is done as well as the cover, as you can see.  Isn’t the male model Jimmy Thomas delicious?
            Naya ‘The Font’ Woods and her vampire abductor Elisha Midyet don’t trust each other at all.  Shared pain makes for strange bedfellows sometimes:

Naya stopped, her gaze finally lighting on the tiny graveyard that lay beyond the house and barn.  Elisha steeled himself for her question, which came a moment later.  “Is that your family?”
“My wife and children.  I lost them all to consumption.  Tuberculosis,” he corrected himself.
It had been decades since the last of his children had succumbed, and yet the old grief filled his belly, grinding at him with dull blades.  Within a space of six months he had lost them all, watching helplessly as they died one by one.  And he?  Elisha had never fallen ill.  They had left him to mourn them, to castigate himself with survivor’s guilt, to drink himself stupid until his vampire maker had found him lying drunk and semi-conscious in the loft of the now almost demolished barn.
Naya’s gentle caress on his cheek startled him.  “I’m sorry Elisha.  Does it ever get better?  The grief?”
She was crying, silent tears pouring down her face, and he was reminded she’d learned the truth of her parents’ deaths only the night before.  He pulled her close, held her slight frame tight to his body.  “It doesn’t get better.  Just more … manageable.”
He’d lost so much.  So had she.  They clung together, him stroking her long, soft hair and she rubbing her hands up and down his back.  At some point during their shared misery, their lips met.  Their breath mingled.  And more than anything, he wanted her warmth, the feeling of someone else touching him, the fantasy that he was again loved and belonged to another.
The grass he laid her down on smelled sweet, though not as sweet as her flesh.  He pushed her skirt up and found she was already sticky-wet with honey.  For once it wasn’t the flavor of her blood that tempted him; he wanted to taste her other juices now.