Sins of the Undead Patriot by a.c. Mason

Here's a perfect read for the Halloween season and an electorial year! 

 

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To save the President, Vaihan must trust the woman who betrayed him.

Vaihan Louchian, Ancient Zombie and Special Advisor to the President, dabbles in contracts for Homeland Security in Washington DC, the only remaining demilitarized zone. His latest mission: to seduce delectable Leera Waltz so he can take down her boyfriend Rowley, leader of the anti-zombie terrorist movement. Vaihan and the President work the Bill of Undead Rights through the Senate, but terrorist attacks rise. The futures of the living and undead are in jeopardy, and Ms. Waltz is not all she seems. Vaihan can’t help being more interested in rescuing her than in his assignment. Any human female who’s willing to put up with the complications of lovemaking with him and his bouts of OCD is worth the hassle.

Vaihan is powerful, intelligent and kind. So not what Leera expected of an undead. When she’s forced to betray Vaihan, she knows he will never understand. She must return to Rowley, and slips deeper into the city’s dark underworld. Then Vaihan’s suspected in an assassination attempt against the President, and Leera has to find the courage to do what’s right and save him, or lose not only Vaihan and the leader of the free world, but her heart and soul.

WARNING: Questionable sexual situations that will disturb some readers, such as abuse, bondage and drug use. Graphic violence and sex, including taboo play. M/F. M/F/M. M/M. And the sexiest undead civil servant you’ll ever meet.

Excerpt:

“Leera.” Vaihan breathed out her name.

She darted a look at him, eyes shimmering with tears. Wind tossed her curls in all directions. What a horrid feeling indeed, to be trapped among the living when all you wanted to be was dead. Once, he too had longed for the cycle to end, but not anymore. Not in a long time.

“Don’t come over here. My mascara has made a mess of my face.” She bent toward the side mirror of the silver SUV, her plump bottom pushed out.

“It’s going to take a lot more than smudged makeup to do that.” He cocked his head to admire the seam between her thighs. “You’re gorgeous.”

The corner of her mouth twitched upward. “You are some kind of smooth talker.” She lifted upright then spun toward him.

Admittedly, he stood too close but he itched to touch her again.

When she attempted to step back, he scooped his arm behind her, resting his fingers against the bare skin of her open-backed gown.

A breath hitched at her lips. As her heart rate accelerated, her eyes widened with fear.

“Not so fast.” He steadied her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She wrapped her hands around the upper part of her body, creating a barrier. Goose bumps covered her exposed arms.

He unfastened the buttons of his jacket, slipped off the garment and then rested it on her shoulders.

“You don’t have to.” Her gazed traveled from his neck to where two buttons were undone on his dress shirt.

Did she like what she saw? For now, he’d content himself with not finding disgust in her eyes. As her dark gaze rose, it met his, and her body relaxed. A run of black makeup was smeared beneath her eyes. He pressed his thumb to her skin, wiping away tears and mascara.

She reached for his hand, then pressed his flesh to hers. “You’re so hot.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m not just good looks.” He let his hand rest in the small of her back.

“I meant your skin.”

“Of course you did. I’m undead. My appearance is usually a cause for fear.” Most of his kind paid for human female companionship. He’d never needed to. Zombies had their own underground scene. Lavish nightclubs, where humans offered themselves up blindfolded, tied up and bound to the wall or ceiling in exchange for a taste of poison. These places provided a safe environment where the undead could feast on the living in a number of ways.

Not his cup of tea.

“Hmm.” She angled her head. “Given the lines of your brow, nose and lips with the structure of your jaw, I’d say you’re easy on the eyes.”

In mere moments of knowing him, she’d been able to see him as more than his scary exterior.

“Undead of my persuasion have a body temperature that is about six degrees hotter than humans.” With his index finger, he tucked a rogue curl behind her ear.

“Guess that’s why I’m not chilly anymore.” She met his stare.

“Here I thought the change was your attraction to me.” He smiled.

Born from the union of her Scottish and Belgian mother and an African American and Cherokee father, a.c.Mason’s youth was filled with dichotomies and moving from place to place. She developed a curiosity to explore through writing the seedy side of our nature and desires. Given her own diverse background, she writes stories that represent the world she grew up in. She is fluent in French and English. For the past nine years of her life, she has worked with one foot in the past spanning from 18th century, the Bering Strait theory to modern day and now late Victorian and WWII. Her stories are the place where darkness meets human desire and fairytales endings are not promised but earned. She’s a founding member of The Cultural, Interracial, and Multicultural Special Interest Chapter of Romance Writers of America.

If you’d like to learn more about a.c. Mason go to www.acmason.com.

 

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When the Wolf Howls

I'd love to say I have something super exciting to blog about this month. I'd like to. But I've been in a tiny bit of a slump. Yep. A slump.

I write under two names. One is my name and the other is my pen name. What seems to happen is the ideas for one name really fly, while the other name sort of sits there. And where am I? You guessed it...languishing. Okay, not really. Megan Slayer--my alter ego--is having a great time. She's the one the wolf is talking to. Yep. If you've read Wild Flower, then you know about my wolves. They didn't intend to show up, but did. So, there they are. And the wolf is talking to me.

That's the good part. I love listening to the wolves. They are sarcastic and wry. Love 'em. But the hard part is this - as much as the wolves talk to Megan, the other characters aren't talking to Wendi.

Now to some this might not seem like a big deal. Its only characters wanting to talk. But if you're a writer, you WANT them to talk to you. When they don't, either there is something goofed up with the story or there is no story because they haven't given that to you. I'm in the second category. Megan's going gangbusters. Wendi? Stuck, stuck, stuck.

So I'm imploring you to suggest some ways to get the old muse off her buns and to make her help me. Yep. Anyone have thoughts? Because, yeah, I'm stuck and I'm listening.

And in case you're looking for a great new read, try Wild Flower.

She's the key to his destiny, if he's willing to embrace a position of power.

Ansen doesn't believe he's alpha material. He lives life on his own terms and keeps feelings out of the equation -- until a chance meeting at a Glow concert turns his world upside down.

Willow likes having all access to her favorite band. She lives in the shadows and keeps the band's fan site running without fail. But one glimpse of the dark stranger proves there's more to life than a laptop screen.

But is he too much of a gamble if her heart is the ultimate prize?

Available here!

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Autumn Blues?

You may think from the title that I don't like the Fall. But the opposite is true. This is my favorite time of year.  I love the cooler temperatures, a welcome break from the humidity, the trees changing color along with the falling leaves. And pumpkins. Oh my gosh, just seeing the pumpkin stands along the side of the road gets me so excited.

Sure, there are some down sides to the Fall - the beginning of cold and flu season, having to rake leaves, and the worst, one season closer to winter. Hey, winter would be awesome if I didn't have to shovel or drive in the snow.

So, where does the color blue come in? Well, blue is one of my favorite colors. With all the beautiful colors of the fall, I wish blue was included. After all, it is the skin color I tend to give many of the aliens in my stories.

In Crash Landing, which released today, there are two blue aliens, Cael and Mare. Though they didn't come to Earth together. But what they bring to the story, and to Tara are sure to heat up the sheets.

Here's the blurb:

As his ship plummets toward Earth, Cael believes his life to be over. His last ditch effort to save himself ends in a fiery crash. When he wakes up, he believes he’s entered the afterlife, but his surroundings indicate otherwise. He made it to Earth. But who saved him, and what do they want with him?

Crash Landing is available from Decadent Publishing, Amazon, All Romance eBooks, and many other ebook retailers. More information and buy links posted here.

And an excerpt:

He rushed to the right, his rod too hard to wait. The slurping, sucking, and cries of pleasure continued as he reached the entrance behind which the action took place. The door ajar, he dared a quick glimpse into the room. With a gasp, he stepped back into the hall, but could not take his eyes off the sight in front of him.

With her rounded pink ass and swollen sex folds in full view, a woman went to work sucking off a man. The musky scent of her desire wound through his nasal passages and drew him closer. She rested on her hands and knees on a platform, while the guy kneeled in front of her. But unlike any beings he had ever seen on the vids of Earth, the guy had blue skin. Not his deep, almost indigo shade, but lighter, closer to the color of the water he’d landed in. Long blond hair flowed over his shoulders, onto his muscular chest.

The man held the woman’s shoulders with his webbed hands—yes, webbed hands—drawing her on and off his dick. “You have the mouth of an angel.” He threw his head back and thrust faster and faster between her lips.

The sight stimulated Cael. They weren’t trying to make babies; it seemed they were having sexual relations for pleasure. He yearned not only to bury his face in the wet pussy in front of him, but to taste the man’s blue dick, feel it inside of him. Back on Narien, he’d crafted his own devices made from the soft, flimsy bark of the totmos plant, to experience the pleasure both men and women felt in the stadium, why they cried out during mating, but never seemed injured. And learn he had, anxious to be ready when he reached his thirtieth year and was allowed to mate. He’d turned that age a half year ago, with no one on his ship to be his partner. Would he finally have an opportunity?

Jessica Subject started writing to encourage her daughter to read. Now she writes to keep herself grounded. Although she reads many genres, she enjoys writing Science Fiction Romance the most and believes everyone in the universe deserves a happily ever after. She lives Southwestern Ontario, Canada with her husband and two kids and loves to hear from anyone who has enjoyed her stories.

Website/Blog / Twitter / Facebook / Goodreads / Amazon

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Something scary-beautiful...

My inspirational dragon, because he's scary-beautiful...and my head on cold meds is a fruity fudge basket of fluff. Best to stay silent. ;-)

Kim

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Kim Knox brews sex, magic, darkness and technology in a little corner of North West England. She writes erotic science fiction and fantasy romance for Carina Press, Ellora’s Cave, Samhain Publishing, Cleis Press and others.

Website || Blog || Twitter || Facebook

SYNTHETIC DREAMS and BITTER HARVEST are available now from Carina Press. 

AT THE SORCERER'S COMMAND and DARK DEALINGS coming soon

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RomantiCon2012... Here I come!

The last few months have been pretty jam-packed for me. I've been putting the final touches on my third Heavenly Lovers book, Embracing Eternity. I spent three weeks doing the most problematic move of my life, and I have moved a lot so that's saying something. Two major family issues and the whole going-back-to-school thing were mixed in.

Basically, I've been in a handbasket on a fast track for the past couple of months.

Thankfully, most of that is now over. EE has been turned in to Ellora's Cave and will be releasing November 2. I'm settled in my new place... well, surrounded by the boxes I haven't had time to unpack, so not fully settled, but all my stuff is here. The kids are back in school and most of the family issues are resolved.

So now, the only thing in my mind is the Ellora's Cave RomantiCon. I'm very excited. Very, very. Very.

Did I mention very?

This will be my first convention, my first official appearance as an author and my first book signing. Oh, and I'll also have my first print book for it! The first two books in the Heavenly Lovers series will be in a single print volume. Heavenly Eternity will be available for signing day. I can hardly wait to get my hands on a copy. it's a little cruel, making an author wait to touch her own book.

Isn't it beautimous?

Anyone else going to RomantiCon? Who should I be looking for?

Voirey

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Spooky things

When people talk about paranormal things, it's usually ghosts and apparitions, strange noises in the night, haunted houses and the like.
Let's assume ghosts exist.
(They do. Ask my horse. He sees them everywhere. Mostly disguised as buckets.)
How would you know if you've seen a ghost? Would you even be able to tell?
Wandering ghosts don't really bother me. I grew up in a house that's about 400 years old. Things generally go bump there and you learn to ignore it. You certainly won't explain it.
I admit it gets a little creepy when you're lying in bed, trying to sleep, and you can feel the wall move. What can I say? Buildings live and breathe. My old place happens to flex its muscles occasionally, as well.
People keep seeing ghosts at night, but I think that's more because of folktales and an inherent fear of the dark, than actually being bound to only rattle chains after midnight.
All the paranormal investigation programs on TV seem to rely on night time encounters.
Makes no sense to me. All the stuff I've seen mostly happened in broad daylight. Why would a ghost only show up at night? I doubt they know what time of day it is, and I sincerely hope there are no alarm clocks in the afterlife. That would kinda suck. I also think it might be tricky to wear a watch when you don't have a solid body.
So how would you know if you've seen a ghost? Short of a long-dead peg-legged pirate appearing in your kitchen at lunch time going "Arrr matey!"--I think you could walk right past one and not know. People are out and about during the day. We think nothing of seeing complete strangers walking through our local pub.
It's when they show up in the locked pub after hours, we start to consider them as ghosts. Okay, you might notice someone walking through the bar, as in, right through the wood, but during the day you'd likely dismiss it as a figment of your imagination. After all, that can't happen...right?
Why not?
Why would a ghost only show up after midnight? And why would a ghost only wear period clothing? Surely modern ghosts exist if historical ones do?

I find it intriguing how easily we dismiss something in broad daylight, and freak out over it at night.
What do you think?

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Now Available!

This Blackened Night, the third and last book in my The Order urban fantasy/mystery series, is now out! I can't tell you how excited I am to see all three books side by side. In fact, I should probably mention that I'm over at Fang-tastic Books today giving away a copy of the book. Just comment by midnight EST 09-23-2012 for your chance to win!

And now for some fun facts about the books:

1- Book 1, Stalking Shade,  was originally written in 2007. The first draft was written during my classes in high school and took one week.

2- Book 2, Out of the Shadows, took me three different plotlines to get right. I had no idea what to do with it at first. Hence why it took so long (early 2011) before I struck gold.

3- The Spenta Michos, unknowing figurehead of The Order, was based on my high school English teacher, who abruptly changed jobs in September 2007. Hence why he goes missing in the book.

4- My favorite character (after Lori and Terrence) is Scissors. Scissors was originally supposed to be a victim in book 2, but I couldn't bring myself to kill her off.

5- While writing the books, I compiled a list of songs which would be on Lori's iPod. Among them were Sharp Teeth, Pretty Teeth by Specimen, and by favorite of the bunch.

Hope you enjoyed that peek into the books! Learn more about Stalking Shade at http://bit.ly/StalkingShade. Learn more about Out of the Shadows at http://bit.ly/OutOfTheShadows.  Learn more about it or read an excerpt at http://bit.ly/ThisBlackenedNight.

This Blackened Night by L.K. Below

 It's all about to end...one way or another.

After months of searching, Lori finally scrounges up a clue as to the whereabouts of the missing leader of her secret organization. But her vision isn't encouraging--it points to her vampire companion Terrence as the culprit.

Terrence is adamant that he isn't at fault. Even though she knows she might be walking into a trap, she follows his lead to a shabby island port. When her informants start turning up dead with puncture wounds in their necks, Lori wonders just how well she knows Terrence. And why does he act different during the search than in their hotel room?

Lori doesn't know who to trust anymore. She only hopes that she won't be the next victim.

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BLURBS. Arghhhh!

            

              A blurb is a short description of a book intended to convey enough information to readers to help them make a decision as to whether they are likely to enjoy the full treatment or not.

             If you're a reader you take these for granted, just like authors did before we became authors. It looks easy. A ten minute task at most. Four months and a hundred revisions later, I'm still tearing my hair out. 

            You say: "Come on. How hard could it be? Has anyone ever called you melodramatic?"

            I say: "Well, yes. They have. But that's not relevant to this discussion. Really!"

             I would much rather write a full length novel than try to compose a blurb. Trying to pare that 113,000 words down to 75 is not just hard, it's torture. It's cruel, I tell you. The short description that I currently use for My Familiar Stranger follows. This is the best I can do while avoiding spoilers.

"Minutes ahead of inevitable assassination, Elora Laiken is forcibly transported to an alternate dimension similar, but not identical, to her own. She is stranded. Alone. Far from home. A stranger in a "strangish" land.

Of course a girl could suffer worse problems than having gorgeous suitors. Perhaps more importantly, in the midst of an epidemic of vampire related abductions, can she stay alive long enough to choose between an honor debt, true love, or the breathlessness of single-minded passion?"

            I can't tell you how often reviews will say something to the effect of "don't pay too much attention to the description". See, the problem is that I wanted to create something that hadn't been done before, something that defies both formula and genre categorizing. I succeeded at that, but, it turns out that, like everything else in the universe, that comes with two sides. The good news is that it's different. The bad news is that the difference throws a wrench into the way the industry is set up to market books.

 

 The second book in the series, The Witch's Dream, is due to release October 14th and the problem has expanded. It's snowballing. Here's what I've got so far...

"From New York to Ireland to Edinburgh to Siena to the Texas Hill Country to Napa Valley, modern day knights, heroes, witches, demons, psychics, vampires, werewolves, elves and fae come together where emotions intersect. From promises to rages to hunts to epiphanies, The Witch's Dream proves that true love can find you in the strangest places, when you're least expecting it, even when you're far, far from home."

            See what I mean? There's no way to give a SHORT description of this book without having it sound stupid or juvenile or both which leaves me standing here as usual saying, "But it's not! I swear!"

             I have finally invented a genre label that kind of, sort of, maybe fits. Paranormal Romantica. No one will mistake my books for YA because they're fantasy. No one will mistake them for paranormal thrillers or paranormal suspense because I made a point of calling attention to the romance aspect. And no one will think it's erotica because, if it was, I would have said Paranormal Erotica. At least that's what's on the drawing board for today.

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Hotel Living

I'm a transplant this week. See, I've lived on the East Coast my entire life. But my desk job occasionally sends me to the West Coast for work. Such as this week. I'm in southern California, enjoyed the beautiful weather (when I get to see it). But it also means hotel living. Don't get me wrong, the hotel I'm in is gorgeous. The staff is fabulous and the food at the restaurant here is terrific (plus, I get free margaritas--can't be a bad place, right?). But still...it's a hotel. Hotel living is...well, just not the same. I mean, it's not MY bed. It's not MY desk. It's not MY anything. It actually throws off my writing groove a little bit, as I don't tend to write much when  I am on a business trip. Oddly enough, if I venture out with laptop in hand and find a cozy cafe to settle down in, I can get some work done.

It might be a bit strange, but do you ever find yourself writing and/or reading in odd places? What are some of them?

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Gloom and Doom

Does the weather ever effect your writing or what you choose to read? This is what it looks like outside my library today.

Yes...doom and gloom.

It was drizzling on my head when I took that picture. It's been raining on and off all weekend. It's cloudy, gray, and ugly out. I need some sunshine. Have you ever noticed that at least 90% of the time...it's always sunny in the books you read...in the books you write? Who wants to read about a heroine/hero in a thunderstorm or a tornado? You want light and happiness. Right?

Unless of course you're reading a thriller or a mystery. Gloom and doom seem to go hand in hand with that genre. But if you're a romance reader, you want to read about your hero and heroine going out on a date in a nice light suit, a summer or spring dress and enjoying themselves. Sure, every book you read isn't based in the spring or summer, but even in the winter or fall, they end of cozying up by a nice fire or having a snowball fight in the snow. It's rarely raining. At least, that's the way I remember it in books I read.

So, if you're like me and you need some sunshine in your life and you're in the mood for a nice evening walk on the beach, check out the second book in my Beach House Nights series, Something Wet available NOW!

Violet Tanner just had the shittiest week ever. She was demoted at work, her apartment got flooded, and the guy she's dating sends her an email to tell her he needs some space. When she gets an invite from one of her closest friends to a party at her beach house, her quick RSVP leaves her computer smoking.

Things start to look up when hottie Logan McMasters arrives. She's lusted after the ex-pro ball player for years. She's determined to have her weekend end on a hot and sexy note and stops at nothing less than full-on seduction to get her man. Before the night is over Logan is going to know what it means to experience something hot, something spicy and something wet.

Amazon / B&N

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Octopus Mating Games

Releasing September 17th

Believe it or not, I got a story idea watching a documentary on the mating games of octopus.   Link to article. 

The gist to these games is how complicated the rules are to the point where we wonder if there are any rules at all. LOL  We’re talking multiple partner harem-ish behavior with males sneaking into these dens while the guardian male isn’t looking.

O.M.G.  There was a story in this for me but I couldn’t fathom what.

I’d been playing around with idea of a succubus story for years but couldn’t foresee a HEA for a race that needed multiple partners. It didn’t take me long to connect the octopus lifestyle to this problem.

If octopi could figure out a complex system of rules for mating so could my succubi and incubi.  Starved for Love is born.

Thank you researchers of marina biology. :D

Blurb:

After almost dying of starvation to remain faithful to a mortal lover, succubus Pia Blyton now shields her heart by feeding solely on men she won't fall for. The only trick is, to create energy to survive, she must achieve orgasm. At least that rules out bad sex with her three lovers. Too bad she's a sucker for falling in love.

When her demon lover doesn't arrive for their arranged rendezvous, Pia is forced to ask her vampire lover to step in before her energy becomes dangerously low. In return he demands a favor and Pia finds herself in the hotel suite of the mysterious Valerio Hunan, who seduces her with a devastating kiss. Too late Pia learns he's an incubus who wants to lure her into marriage—a marriage without love.

As an incubus used to bedding a variety of succubi, Val doesn't understand Pia's yearning for love. He needs a succubus wife to provide him with a steady source of energy. But he wants Pia for the passion and renewed interest in life she makes him feel. Can Pia convince Val that sex isn't just for survival and love is for more than the weak?

Excerpt:

Day three of my cycle

            Sex and love should come in the same package, but for a succubus, that meant trouble. Sex equaled food and fidelity couldn’t be part of the equation. Humans couldn’t eat the same thing every meal and stay healthy, and neither could we.

I thumped on the steel door of an industrial garage. Most people didn’t know the largest vampire nest in the Northeast was contained in an underground facility below this building. I kept up my third round of pounding. I knew the vampires were in there. The sun had just set. Someone needed to drag his lazy butt out of bed to answer the door. “I’m not going away!” Security cameras and microphones monitored the place 24/7. The jerks knew I was here.

I needed to feed, and to do that, I needed to get laid. Like all succubi, I survived on the energy created in my body during an orgasm. I couldn’t even stay alive on bad sex. Finding attractive, skilled partners wasn’t a problem in Lake City, but I was a sucker for falling in love. I couldn’t handle the guilt of a one-night stand, and if I tried to live off one male forever, I’d starve, which my instincts wouldn’t allow. I’d tried it once and would never allow myself to go down that road again.

Neither would my parents.

Rain plastered my short curls to my head. Normally, they stuck straight out, the different shades of autumn leaves. I’d be lucky if my suitor didn’t slam the door in my face at the sight of my drenched appearance. But I needed him in a bad way.

I added a kick to my knocking. “It’s Pia, damn it. And it’s raining. Let me in.”

The door finally opened. “The Master’s not expecting you for another seven days.”

I pushed past Rat, one of Zur-Sin’s minions, and huddled in the antechamber. “I know. Tell him I have a problem.”

“What trouble are you in now, Pia?” Sin’s voice carried over an intercom by the door leading into the vampire lair.

Pressing the talk button, I stood on tiptoe to speak in the microphone. “John left a note pinned to my door. He left town last night.” I hoped he was okay. Being a low-level demon bites. Someone was always on his ass.

“So?”

“He’s my suitor for today.” I glanced at Rat, who chuckled. “Shut up.”

“Go see Cooper.”

“Cooper’s on a hunting trip with the pack. Won’t be back for another three days when it’s his turn.”

“I can oblige.” Rat stroked a hand down my back.

His touch sent a wave of desire through my body, but I wasn’t so far gone yet that I’d jump anything with a dick. “Fuck off.” I shoved him away. At least, I tried to. Beauty was a succubus power, not muscle. “We made a deal, Sin.”

“Every nine days. You were just here three days ago.”

“Yeah, do the math, genius. Today’s day three in my cycle. You want me to do Rat instead? I’m out of options.” I crossed my arms and glared at the vampire lackey. I’d eat my own arm before touching him but Sin didn’t have to know that.

“Bring her down, Ratan.”

Rat’s fanged grin faded. “Yes, Master.” He unlocked the door and opened it for me like a gentleman. “Whores first.”

I pulled my jacket tighter around me and fought the shivers. Half-drowned, my need burned inside my body, the hunger for flesh rubbing on flesh setting my skin to oversensitive. If Sin didn’t take me to his bed then I’d have to find some stranger to screw. Nausea rolled in my stomach. I never should have been born a succubus. To my parent’s shame and concern, I wasn’t amoral enough.

They monitored my every meal. How much worse could my life get when my father interviewed potential lovers for me? For crying out loud, what happened with Pierre was history and they needed to let go of the past. I did. Tried…

Racing down the stairs and across the sub-basement, I strode by other vampires, all of them part of Zur-Sin’s nest. He controlled Lake City at night and my father had it during the day. That’s how I met Sin. My father hooked me up two years ago to keep me from starving.

Twenty-five years old and I still lived with my parents. All four of them.

Most mortals wouldn’t understand my dad being interested in my sex life, but he worried and stressed about my lack of lovers to feed upon since I was so picky. I had three now. That should be more than enough if they would just cooperate.

I waited for Rat to twist his key in the elevator so it would travel into the secured areas below us. The doors slid open and I jumped inside.

“Try not to take too long. He has appointments to keep.” With those lovely instructions, Rat keyed the doors closed and I descended into Sin’s world.

Shaking the excess water from my hair, I tried to poof some life back into my signature curls. They sagged on my forehead. Sighing at my reflection, I hung my head. Nothing was sadder than a disheveled, horny succubus.

The doors slid open and a large pair of bare feet stepped into my view. A finger slipped under my chin and raised my gaze. Zur-Sin, ancient vampire warrior, stared at me with his stern dark eyes. Dressed in only a pair of black silk pajama bottoms, he looked good enough to eat. He brushed the curls from my face and frowned. “You have much to learn about the art of seduction.”

“I dressed up last time I was here. I get panicky when things don’t go my way on day threes.”

“It’s not all about appearance, Pia. You’re beautiful even when left out in the rain.” He bent and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. Sin’s touch always struck a spark—even on my off days he could lure me to his bed. “Grace and tact would be appreciated at times. You can’t barge into my nest making demands. It makes me seem weak.”

“I’m sorry.” I leaned against his solid chest. His pale skin still retained the warmth of his last feed. I didn’t ask about his latest conquest. We had a business deal signed in blood. He gave me an orgasm every nine days and I fed him with my blood. No strings attached. I think I came out on top of that deal because Sin could be a generous lover when in the right mood. And I had learned how to guide him into those moods.

He placed a kiss to the top of my head. “Next time call. I have a human secretary, remember? She’d have made quieter arrangements.”

“She hates me.” I squirmed, pressing my thighs together to help relieve the growing demands between them.

Sin sighed and led me into his apartment, through the living room, past his office and into the bedroom where he sat on the edge of his king-sized bed. He plucked a remote off the mattress and turned on some slow jazz. Leaning back onto his elbows, he ran his gaze over me. “Undress.”

I knew this game. It was his favorite. The command was a comfort, something familiar in a day filled with anxiety, since my scheduled suitor had abandoned me. I had watched the sun move across the sky, feeling my need grow. Unbuttoning my raincoat, I tossed it to the floor. I listened to the music and allowed the beat to pace my movements. Shirt, jeans and socks came off slow and easy. Each stroke of my hand over my skin intensified my yearning.

All the while he watched, his eyes caressing my curves, so intent it made me ache.

I unclasped the front of my bra and stalked toward the edge of the bed. The straps slid from my shoulders and down my arms, releasing my breasts. Cool air brushed over my wet skin and sent a shiver through my limbs.

“You’re cold.” He offered me his hand.

I climbed in his warm bed. Lying next to him, I ran my hand through his short, sunny-blond hair. “What would I do without you?”

He chuckled. “Save those words for your other suitors.” Trailing a sharp fingernail over my breastbone, he drew a path to my belly button and teased the small ring pierced there. “What will you give me in exchange for tonight?”

I blinked and tilted my head to see his face better. “What I always pay, my blood.”

He shook his head. “I already fed and the price went up.”

Kindle: 

Nook:

Annie Nicholas

www.annienicholas.com


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Are You Ready To Send In That Submission?

by JoAnne Kenrick

I've been so busy through the summer break with releases left right and center (check my amazon page for the latest - vampires, zombies, Irish pubs... the list is extensive). It's been very exciting, and I love the online buzz my new releases have generated. I've just had my tenth book with Decadent Publishing accepted, and that will be my last release for 2012 (Hot Winter Kiss, Irish Kisses book 4). I'm now working on three new projects, with new arsenal in my thumb drive; during the past year with all that writing, submitting, and editing, I've learned a very valuable lesson on what I NEED to do before I send in a submission.

I’m an impulsive person by nature. I get to a point where I think I couldn’t possibly edit my manuscript anymore, but that desire to end it all and hit send is often overwhelming.  I find myself having to walk away from the computer, chewing at the cord wanting to hit send.

Nathan Bransford’s--if you’re a writer, you should know this blog. If you don’t, go subscribe NOW--blog post by about revision fatigue got me thinking...and nodding my head in agreement.

“There comes a point when you think the book is a colossal, irredeemable mess and you can't for the life of you figure out if it's actually any good or not.” -- Nathan Bransford

Yes, I thought, I am not the only one. I am not a Highlander; well, there can be only one of those.

When I think my story is a mess, I let it sit for a while and go back in for more edits a few days later. It’s after that process that the ‘hit send’ urge hits me.

Maybe it could do with another edit? Maybe there’s a plot point that has a gap, or maybe I forgot to check continuity with a fine tooth comb and missed something. Those are all questions that used to race through my mind after hitting send.

I’ve since learned a neat little trick that keeps me distracted until the book is ready for submission. I mean actually ready, not almost ready.

I now have a check list of all my writing weaknesses, and I make myself go through it if I get a sudden urge to hit send. Search and find for my big no-no words, checking eye and hair color, double checking location research and whatnot. and cliches. I’ve got a long list of those to check for. By the time I’ve finished checking, another full round of edits have taken place because I typically find more ‘little’ things along the way. I can see then that it's almost there, but not quite. It's almost like you've got fresh eyes on the project after running through a checklist on it. Another round of edits takes place and then I typically feel 'right' about sending it in with hopes of getting a resounding YES from an editor.

I've found this to be a useful program; AUTO CRIT wizard - free trial . It doesn't replace beta readers and critique partners, but it does give a cleaner look at where things could be improved technically.

What do you make sure to do before you hit ‘send submission?’

Got any tips to share?

By JoAnne Kenrick [www.joannekenrick.com ]

Bestselling author of romances, both contemporary and paranormal.

Grab Dracula’s Kiss this October; a Decadent Publishing 1NS story set in actual Scottish castle ruins that inspired Stoker when writing Dracula. A tasty treat not to be missed this Halloween! Available to purchase for just 2.99 at your favorite e-book stores.

http://www.amazon.com/Draculas-Night-Stand-Series-ebook/dp/B005XN7H2S

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Perfume of the Pharoahs

Currently out on submission, Warrior of the Nile is my second paranormal romance set in Ancient Egypt. Since I knew I would be doing a post here on the Paranormal Romantics blog this week, I was scanning through the manuscript last night, to see what might inspire me as a topic to write about, and I came up with – perfume!

The Egyptians loved and treasured perfume, starting with the scent of the blue Nile lotus, which they wore in garlands, as wreaths, and carried singly or in bouquets. Curiously the flower was not often used as an ingredient for actual perfume. Perhaps the Egyptian belief that a strong scent of lotus in the air meant a Great One was present kept the mere mortals from usurping the concentrated lotus essence for themselves.

 Khenet, the warrior in my book's title, has several encounters with the goddess Nepthys during the novel, none of them very comfortable. He does indeed learn to watch out for that overwhelming perfume as a sign she’s near. Here’s the first time they meet, deep in the inner sanctum of her temple:

“Do you find me attractive, warrior?” she asked, her voice husky, honey sweet and low pitched. Not waiting for an answer, she swayed across the chamber to confront him, one hand on her hip. “It’s been many centuries since I took a human lover.”

Lotus perfume surrounded him, making him dizzy. Choosing his words very carefully, Khenet couldn’t help thinking the situation felt like a trap. “With all due respect, Great One, such radiant splendor is too much for a mortal man to experience.”

Nephthys laughed. “Well spoken, I see Pharaoh has sent me a diplomat disguised as a rough soldier.”

He opted for silence. Yeah I learned a lot in my years at Court, especially how great ladies like to be complimented.

 Perfume was so important to the Ancient Egyptians that there was even a special deity, Nefertum, assigned to be “…guardian and protector of the perfume and oil makers, protector and god of the sacred lotus. Osiris is the body of the plants, Nefertum is the soul of the plants, the plants purified. The divine perfume belongs to Nefertum living forever.”*

He was usually depicted as a very handsome young man, with a crown of lotus flowers. Some legends say his tears at the dawn of time became the human race. Egyptians often carried small amulets depicting him as good luck charms… and that was about the extent of Nefertum’s responsibilities. Watching over the all important perfume was a full time job apparently!

Just as we have our favorite brands of perfume today, expecting every bottle of Chanel No 5 to smell exactly the same, the Egyptians had detailed recipes for their favorite scents, including Susinum (lilies, myrrh & more), Cyprinum (henna) and Mendesian (myrrh, cassia, resins & more). They conducted an international trade in this luxury. To signify his dominion over Egypt, which was so identified with the perfume industry, Julius Caesar is said to have scattered alabaster perfume bottles to the crowds at his triumphal parades in Rome.

We’re barely scratching the surface of this topic and I’m already out of space but I’ll take it up again another day…there’s still the tale to tell of the sunken cargo ship carrying blue glass, fragrant materials and a golden scarab bearing the cartouche of Nefertiti…were they bringing exotic ingredients to be made into a special scent just for her? 

Always more mysteries and questions when it comes to Ancient Egypt – thank goodness!

What's your favorite scent? Currently I alternate between Very Hollywood by Michael Kors and  Tresor by Lancome....

 See you next month…

*Hymn to Nefertem, 18th dynasty
Steve Van Toller, G. H. Todd: Fragrance: Psychology and Biology of Perfume, 1992 Springer, p.290

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