Loki’s Game Blog Tour: An Interview w/ S.H. Roddey

Loki'sGame 200x300(1)Guess whose back? Back again? Noooo… it’s not Slim Shady.  It’s me, yer old pal Sexy Lexxxie.  I’m back on the blog today to welcome one of my favorite authors, and indeed one of my favorite people, to the page.  Siobhan Kinkade is a particular friend of mine and she has a new book, Loki’s Game, that has just come out from Sugar and Spice Press.  She was kind enough to sit down with me and answer a few questions about love, life and where bodies are buried.

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1.        How did you start writing?

It actually happened before I realized it. I was just a kid doing a homework assignment for English class. The assignment was to write a new ending for Beauty and the Beast, and instead of writing a few paragraphs, I ended up writing twenty pages. It has been all downhill from there.

2.       What genres do you write in?  Which is the most satisfying?

Too many to count! I love writing paranormal romance, but my first love is horror. So long as I’m doing bad things to people on paper, I’m not tempted to crack skulls in real life.

3.       What sort of “rituals” do you engage in to help you write?

Now I’m going to have to tell on you too! Aside from loud music to drown out background noise, my most successful ritual is the Thursday night write-in at Starbucks with you and Crymsyn Hart.  Not that we actually get much work done for playing on Facebook and dealing with people banging on the tables, but we do at least try.

4.       Tell us about your new book, Loki’s Game.

It started as an accident several years ago. It started out as a short story about a woman who answered an ad in a newspaper that turned out to be for the position of “wife.” It grew and twisted into this convoluted mess involving a pair of shapeshifters (because as you know I suffer from Epic Brain Syndrome). Then out of nowhere something in my brain broke and my hero ended up being a descendent of the Nordic Dragon, Fafnir, and the guy chasing him decided to tell me that he was actually disguised as Loki.

The first draft was submitted two years ago, and after finding a few glaring structural errors, I pulled the submission and went back to work on it. Having finally decided that it wasn’t as stupid as I thought, I revised, rewrote and expanded until it became what it is. And late last year, Kelly at Sugar & Spice Press agreed to take a second look and offered the contract.

5.       Loki is heavily rooted in Norse mythology. Do you often use mythology to inspire your writing?  Where do you draw inspiration from?

Mythology often eats my brain. Something about the power of gods and monsters has always appealed to me. I think it’s why a lot of my work features werewolves, shapeshifters and vampires too. They’re strong and unusual, and a good monster always makes me happy.

The inspiration itself comes from all over the place. Sometimes it’s music, other times it’s the people or situations around me. A lot of what I write is kneejerk reaction to something happening in my life.

6.       This is your first novel-length work.  Did you find it difficult to make the transition from short to long form?

Actually, no. Going back to that EBS from earlier – when your brain works on that epic level like mine, it’s hard to keep it from wandering into novel territory. Plot points and twists come out of nowhere and the characters like to get all snarled up in situations that take pages and pages to resolve.

This is my first published novel, but I have two others sitting on a shelf, waiting to see if I ever go back and fix them enough to sell. Lately it has been harder to keep things short, which means anthology calls with word count limits are like pulling teeth.

7.       What advice would you give budding writers?

If you want to be a writer, then be a writer. Don’t talk about doing it. Don’t second guess yourself. Don’t say “one day I’ll finish something”. And for goodness’ sake, don’t spend all of your time rewriting and revising! Write it, do your self-edits, and let it go. The longer you micro-manage your manuscript, the harder it’s going to be to let it go.

8.       Where can readers find your work?

All over the place! Information on all of my books can be found on my blog, and I’m available on GoodReads, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and All Romance eBooks.

Wait, revise that. My books are available on those sites. I’m not actually there. I’m not for sale… at least, not for cheap.

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Now… the important stuff.  THE BLURB!!

Unemployed museum curator Lily Redway responds to an advertisement in the newspaper, thinking she is applying for a job. On the other side of that small, black-and-white box waits two things: a fantasy world come to life and a man named Rowan Keir.

 Rowan is a man with many secrets. He is a shape-shifter, a descendent of old world mythology, and the guardian of a rare and valuable Nordic artifact. He is also being hunted by the god Loki and has spent the last six hundred years outsmarting and outrunning him.

 With the fury of Asgard on Rowan’s trail, Lily finds herself caught up in a real-life fantasy story, a love triangle, and an ages-old war that pitches her into a different world and one very hard truth: All is fair in love and war.

I can promise you, dear readers, that this book is a HOT and amazing read.  Go buy it NOW!

Wicked After Dark: Silver Foxes

The hero of my second release, “Second Skin,” is a sexy older man.  This isn’t a

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coincidence, kittens.  The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve developed an interest in older men.  It’s weird because I never figured that I’d be one of those women that sought out a fifty-something.  Not that I haven’t always liked a mate to be older—my husband, Tally, is five, almost six years older than I.  When we met, my mother was so worried about our age difference.  I was 17 and he was 22—old enough to buy beer.  But I was never interested in boys my age.  I suppose in my eyes they weren’t as mature or mysterious.  As I’ve gotten older, my fascination has gotten worse.  I’m just not interested in the sex symbol of the moment unless he has a little silver in his hair.  Older men are confident, self-assured, dominating— AND THAT MAKES ME HOTTER THAN A TIN ROOF IN THE  MIDDLE OF JULY.  So I’ve attached a wicked little excerpt from “Second Skin” that showcases our hero, the sexy Jack Leannan.  Incidentally, “leannan” is Gaelic for “lover.” 

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Jack Leannan wasn’t like anyone I had ever met before.  And I think I knew we were going to sleep together from the moment I saw him.  We met briefly at a dinner party and I was instantly fascinated.  He was quite a bit older than I, but it didn’t affect his allure at all.  The silvery strands at his temples only served to highlight the cool blue composure of his eyes.  His body was solid, a telltale sign of one who took care of himself, but not overdone.  He had a quiet grace that gave him an air of mystery and dominance.  His accented voice was low with just a tinge of gravel that had me drooling with his first hello.  We stood around in the same circle of strangers, exchanging shallow niceties and bored expressions.  He didn’t say a lot, merely commented when spoken to.  I noticed him laugh quietly to himself at inopportune times and it endeared him to me, though I was afraid to engage him in conversation. 

I didn’t notice when everyone else had left the circle and I still stood there, holding my glass of wine and staring at Jack.  It was as if the entire world had disappeared around us and I couldn’t care less.  “Miss Spencer?  Are you alright?”  He spoke to me and I started.  I hadn’t realized that he even knew my name. 

“Catherine.  Please call me Catherine,” I said, somewhat robotically as I pushed the words from my lips.

He smirked, one eyebrow quirking.  “Are you sure we know each other well enough for that?”

“I’ll risk it,” I replied. 

“As long as we’ve set the ground rules.”  With another smile he offered his hand and we shook politely.  I tried to let go, but he held on tight and then pulled, leading me to a couch nearby.  “I hate parties,” he said casually as he motioned for me to sit.  “Standing around talking to strangers was never my forte.”

“You seem to be doing well so far,” I replied, taking a seat.

“If you’ll notice, the only person I’ve actually spoken to is you.”

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Whew… that Jack is one of my favorite heroes ever.   He’s sexy, smart and he knows just what to say to get my blood boiling.  That’s what’s so hot.  Not just that he’s an older man, but that he seems to know everything poor Catherine needs to hear.  Of course, it’s his downfall.  But I’m not one to give spoilers.

Don’t forget to go in and leave some comments– be sure to tell me about YOUR favorite Silver Fox.  And of course, click Miss Bettie up there to visit the other blog hop participants!

My books can be found  at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance eBooks and anywhere quality eBooks are sold.

If I’ve piqued your interest or if you just want to come point and laugh, I can be found at the following locales:

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Howloween Blog Hop: How Much is Too Much

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Welcome to Day 2 of the Howloween 2012 Blog Hop! I’ve had so much fun reading all your comments! Please know that I appreciate each and every one. I’m especially honored by all of the comments and messages saying “This sounds so good. I’m going to put this on my wish list.” I’m always amazed to know that there are people out there that like what I write. But… on to today’s topic…

So how much is too much? Anyone who knows me can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’ve never had too much of anything. I tend to indulge in most things to excess. Which brings me to why we’re here today. In your erotic horror/ paranormal romance—how much sex and blood is too much? Is there a point at which you say, “I can’t read this anymore,”? Of course there are varying degrees. My recent publications have been more on the sex and less on the blood. I haven’t delved into splatterpunk much in my relatively short career, but it’s a genre that is close to my heart. For those of you uneducated on the matter—splatterpunk is a genre that combines horror and erotica in violent and twisted ways. Splatterpunk isn’t really meant to titillate so much as to shock. The tales are generally graphically violent, explicitly sexual and shockingly detailed. Needless to say, I’m a big fan. However, it isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. For some, they’d rather have the violence happen behind closed doors. Or at the very least have it brief and painless.

So where is that line? It seems to me in the media that the line gets blurrier and blurrier every day. And it’s almost always bent toward the violent side. For some reason, it is more socially acceptable to depict someone being decapitated by a flying cannonball than to show full on nudity and sex between two people who are obviously in love. The way I see it, one celebrates life and the other celebrates death. Which would you rather see?

The closest I’ve come, at least in my published works, to splatterpunk was in my first novel, Hellsong. In the prologue, one of the main characters is telling the story of how he watched his best friend devoured by a succubus. I chose to use imagery that was both horrific and primal. I wanted it to be graphic and shocking, but also strangely sexual. I’ll let you judge for yourself…

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The first thing I noticed was the smell. Something like dead flowers and decayed earth just under the coppery smell of the blood, which was everywhere. It dripped from the walls and ran in pools across the floor until I could see the canvas of my old sneakers soaking it up. I gasped, unable to find my voice, but when the glass of gin in my hand dropped to the floor, it made a loud noise. The woman’s head whipped around from where she crouched on the bed. Her eyes glowed this impossible yellow color as she glared at me, but she did not speak. Her skin looked leathery and taut under the thick veil of Jackson’s blood. I started to move toward her, wanting to throw her off of my friend even though I was more scared than a man staring at Death himself.

She made kind of a hissing noise at me, baring a mouthful of sharpened pearl teeth. I wanted to scream, to run out of there as fast as I could, but as I turned, my foot caught on something, nearly throwing me down. When I looked down, I saw a mass of red cord wrapped around my ankle. As my eyes started to focus, I realized that the bloody mess was Jackson’s insides, coiled like a snake at my feet. I did scream then and stumbled backward, slipping in the blood and falling hard on my ass. The woman-thing on the bed laughed—a sickening rasping sound that echoes in my nightmares.

I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t get to my feet. I was blinded with alcohol and tears. I began crawling toward the door on my knees. I was sure that she was going to come after me, but then I heard an earsplitting shriek pulled from her throat. She got up on her haunches at the bed, staring hatefully at me as she bellowed again. I looked over my shoulder, sure that someone would come in and see, but no one did—her screams were lost over the symphony of moans and laughter in the corridor. I watched with morbid fascination as she sat straight up on her knees. Her clawed hands held onto the broken down bedpost as she grunted and writhed on the ruined sheets. Before I was sure what was happening, I heard another cry—this one more human.

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Now remember, to enter into the contest two win your choice of one of my eBooks, you need to leave a comment here on the blog with your email addy. If you don’t feel comfy leaving it here, feel free to friend me on Facebook and send me a message there. I’d LOVE to hear from you anyway!

My books can be found at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance eBooks and anywhere quality eBooks are sold.

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Wicked After Dark: Blurb-a-palooza!

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Well hey there kids!  I’ve decided today to give you some blurbs to whet your appetite and let you know a little about me and what I do.  My fiction has been called a bit unusual by some.  I never liked romance as a younger woman because I always felt that the stories were so sicky-sweet, too good to be true.  I just couldn’t relate to the characters, but I did like the hot-blooded romance aspet of it.  So when I started writing, I was determined to write the kind of romance that I’d like to read.  One that isn’t sicky sweet and unbelievable, but one with imperfect heroines and dangerous heroes.  I’ve always loved anything paranormal and spooky, so paranormal romance seemed the way to go.  Of course I couldn’t just stop there– I had to make sure that the story was laced with explicit scenes of really hot monkey-lovin’.  Cuz well… that’s the most fun to write.  So I’m going to give you an offering of some of my darkest paranormal romances and you can decide for yourself.

Strange Bedfellows:  Three to Tango

“…vampires can be dangerous to your health.”
 
A truer statement had never been uttered, but when Cali stumbled upon The Oubliette, she began to realize the wisdom in those words. Broken-hearted and bored, Cali’s life had become a string of TV dinners and romance novels. She wondered where her life was going until she followed the mysterious stranger through the red door and entered a world that few would ever know existed. A world of vampires, werewolves and pleasure beyond imagination. Within the walls of The Oubliette, Cali will embark on a dangerous and sensual journey of discovery that will change her life forever.
Sanguine Kiss
Vengeance is only the beginning…
Gillian Thompson wants to end her life. Deserted by her lover and desperate for peace, she thinks that death is the only answer. But life never closes one door without opening a window. On a fateful night, the one that should be her last, she meets the dark and mysterious Seth, who seems to understand the depth of her pain. Rather than let her kill herself, he offers Gillian a new life beyond pain and regret. A life bathed in bloody kisses and bittersweet vengeance.
Second Skin
 
When Catherine Spencer meets the seductive Jack Leannan at her company dinner party, she could never have imagined how fast she’d fall for him. He’s everything her husband isn’t—older, confident, and highly sexual. He lures her under his spell with promises of passion beyond her wildest dreams, and she finds herself ready to give up everything. But Jack is no ordinary lover, and the secret he harbors could destroy her.
Masquerade
“What’s your fantasy?”

Blythe McLachlan had the perfect life until the night he said those three little words that could make or break a relationship.  When Blythe tells her husband about her fantasy of a hot menage, he’s less than pleased. But when he drops her off at a mysterious masquerade ball, she finds
that the boundaries of love can be crossed and rules are made to be broken.

Hellsong
Can mercy be a sin?
Lonely bookstore manager Theo Chandler lost herself in Hurricane Katrina. Found wandering alone in a swamp with no memory of her life before the storm, she has spent the last few years building a half-life where no one touches her so no one can guess her secret. Only Father Jerome, a voodoo priest who witnessed her birth, and the minions of Lucifer know her true identity and the monster she could become.
As the last of the Grigori, Heaven’s guardians of humankind on Earth, the angel Saraquel should destroy beautiful Theo before the forces of Hell use her to destroy him, humanity, or even Heaven itself. But like Jerome, he sees the humanity in her that far outshines the hidden demon. He forms a connection to her that he has never known with anyone else through all his immortal life. Choosing to protect her, he joins Theo and Jerome in a fight to bring down hell’s design and save her human soul.

My books can be found  at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance eBooks and anywhere quality eBooks are sold.

If I’ve piqued your interest or if you just want to come point and laugh, I can be found at the following locales:

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It’s Beach Season!

Aaaah…. the humid air of a Carolina spring.  The only difference between a Carolina spring and a Carolina summer is the rain.  It’s only mid-April and already the temperatures are climbing into the 90s!  That can only mean one thing– it’s time for the beach!  Long days of lounging on the sand, watching the waves and sipping a tall fruity drink  under a garishly colored umbrella.  Of course if you’re like me, you’ve always got a good book in your beach bag.  So seeing as how I never do much promotion, I thought I’d just give a run-down of my releases.  Just to give you some ideas for loading up your Kindle.  I promise they won’t disappoint!

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Available NOW from Rebel Ink Press!

Beast of Burden:  Sascha has been a slave in the village of Kaspar for most of her life.  Unappreciated and alone, she lives out her days toiling away and putting up with constant torment.  When her kind master goes off to the marketplace in a neighboring town, he offers to bring her a gift.  All she asks is for a single, red rose.  Little does she know that the rose will cast her out into the service of the beastly Lord Marek.  Rumored to be a scarred and cruel man, Cianan Marek has been searching for a kindred soul.  His life as a warrior came to an abrupt end when he was attacked by werewolves in the Outlands.  Bitter and alone, he’s been hiding a terrible secret since returning to Kaspar as Lord Governor.  In this adult retelling of the classic fairy tale Beauty and the Beast, Sascha and Cianan learn the power of destiny and that some beasts lurk in the most unlikely of places.  This  one is my newest release and I must say— it’s a hot little number.

 

“Dollface”: “Dollface” is the story of Caroline, a plain Jane, small town Southern girl who just happens to be a funeral home cosmetian. Everyone in town likes Caroline, though they’ve always felt that there was something not quite right about her. For years Caroline has pined in silence for the funeral director’s son, Scott Bauer. Scott has always been kind, but never returned her affections. Her world comes tumbling down when she discovers that Scott is to be married and will leave her forever. She can’t let that happen and will go to unnatural lengths to keep him. The story has a bit of graphic violence and alludes somewhat to necrophilia, mostly in the style of Faulkner’s “A Rose for Emily.”  This one’s straight horror, so there’s no hot sex.  But the anti-heroine, Caroline, is genuinely creepy!

“Masquerade”:  “What’s your fantasy?”  Blythe McLachlan had the perfect life until the night he said those three little words that could make or break a relationship.  When Blythe tells her husband about her fantasy of a hot menage, he’s less than pleased.  But when he drops her off at a mysterious masquerade ball, she finds that the boundaries of love can be crossed and rules are made to be broken.  This short story has been described as a smouldering piece of Heaven that’s sure to fog up your iPad screen…

 

“Second Skin”:  When Catherine Spencer meets the seductive Jack Leannan at her company dinner party, she could never have imagined how fast she’d fall for him. He’s everything her husband isn’t—older, confident, and highly sexual. He lures her under his spell with promises of passion beyond her wildest dreams, and she finds herself ready to give up everything. But Jack is no ordinary lover, and the secret he harbors could destroy her.
Hellsong:  Can mercy be a sin? Lonely bookstore manager Theo Chandler lost herself in Hurricane Katrina. Found wandering alone in a swamp with no memory of her life before the storm, she has spent the last few years building a half-life where no one touches her so no one can guess her secret. Only Father Jerome, a voodoo priest who witnessed her birth, and the minions of Lucifer know her true identity and the monster she could become.
As the last of the Grigori, Heaven’s guardians of humankind on Earth, the angel Saraquel should destroy beautiful Theo before the forces of Hell use her to destroy him, humanity, or even Heaven itself. But like Jerome, he sees the humanity in her that far outshines the hidden demon. He forms a connection to her that he has never known with anyone else through all his immortal life. Choosing to protect her, he joins Theo and Jerome in a fight to bring down hell’s design and save her human soul.
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Wow!  I can’t believe I have that many releases to shamelessly plug!  And coming soon, I’ll be releasing the first in a BRAND NEW SERIES!  I can’t say much about it just now, but it’s my first foray into the world of self-publishing.  I thought I’d give it a try and see what happens.  The idea is to release some “quickies” that will most likely be sold in the $0.99- $1.99 range.  Each story is an erotic paranormal romance that revolves around this strange little place called “The Oubliette.”  So be on the lookout for those!
Finally, I’d really like to thank all of you that have been my faithful readers both of my books and my blogs.  It feels so good to know that there are folks out there that appreciate what you do.  Thanks folks!!  I won’t forget you when I become rich and famous… hehe….

Sunday Smut…

Available NOW at Amazon!

I realized today that I hadn’t posted in my blog in quite some time.  Those of you who know me, know that I am not the best blogger.  But I do try to make it up to you.  I’ve been in Starbucks today with Siobhan Kinkade and actually managed almost 2K.  However, I’ve come to the end of one scene and I have NO idea what to do next.  So I figured I’d better use my time wisely and come over here for some shameless PR.

This season looks to be interesting, as I will have a book coming out on Dec. 17th with Rebel Ink Press and I have lots of places I’ll be blogging.  So you’ll have just about enough of me, come December 18th.  Also, coming up in the winter, my novel, Beast of Burden, will be coming out.  It’s a very adult redux of Beauty and the Beast, starring a sexy werewolf named Marek and Sascha, a sassy little slave beauty.  I’m really excited about that novel, as it is the material representation of a year’s worth of work.  Anyway, I figure I’ll give out a little smutty love today, since it’s been so long, dear reader.  The excerpt I’ve chosen is from my first novel, Hellsong.  I thought it fitting, as for the Holiday Blog Hop (see the sidebar), I’ll be giving away a copy of that and a short story, “Second Skin” to fill your dirty little holiday stockings.  So look out for that, those of you who like all things free and freaky.

Lonely bookstore manager Theo Chandler lost herself in Hurricane Katrina. Found wandering alone in a swamp with no memory of her life before the storm, she has spent the last few years building a half-life where no one touches her so no one can guess her secret. Only Father Jerome, a voodoo priest who witnessed her birth, and the minions of Lucifer know her true identity and the monster she could become.

As the last of the Grigori, Heaven’s guardians of humankind on Earth, the angel Saraquel should destroy beautiful Theo before the forces of Hell use her to destroy him, humanity, or even Heaven itself. But like Jerome, he sees the humanity in her that far outshines the hidden demon. He forms a connection to her that he has never known with anyone else through all his immortal life. Choosing to protect her, he joins Theo and Jerome in a fight to bring down hell’s design and save her human soul.

Anyway… here you go…

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“Angel,” she whimpered, getting lost in the feel of his mouth traveling over the contours of her collarbone and shoulders. “Angel,” she repeated in a breathless whisper. “You must be…” She groaned, cradling his head against her chest. His hair slipped through her fingertips like late summer corn silk and she twisted the strands around her fingers.

Saraqael smiled in a way that conveyed utter relief as he fell to his knees before her. He rested his hands on either side of her waist, his thumbs digging into the fleshy hips, keeping her still above him. The sloppy, button down shirt she wore was open, showing a hint of the concave of her belly just over the waistband of her jeans. He used the tip of his nose to open the folds and press his lips to her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to stifle the moan when his tongue delved into the hollow of her navel suggestively. “Fallen?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“Not yet…but I‟m sure you‟ll work harder, Daemon. I used to be the Archangel Uriel,” he whispered, brushing his generous lips over the curves of her hips. “And when I was sent to Earth, I became the Grigori.” He watched her reactions, taking in each nuance as his fingertips trilled over her skin—higher and higher the crept. Her breath came in short gasps, her skin prickling at his touch. When his fingers reached the smooth satin of her bra, she felt a jolt of fire between her legs. And when his palm found the center, she feared that the flames would devour her.

“Perhaps it is you who is the demon,” she groaned.

He smiled and ran his hand over her sternum. “Perhaps I‟m seducing you for my own sport.”

“Not very angelic, Grigori.”

He did not respond, but straightened to his full kneeling height. With a careless gesture, he pulled the shirt open, letting the buttons fly carelessly. The cool night air from the window made goose bumps pop out all over, pulling her skin taut. Before she had time to complain about it, the warmth oozed over her body as his hands found their way under the satin barrier covering her breasts. His rough, calloused palm scratched against her nipple, making it harden immediately. She whimpered with the sudden heaviness and arched her body toward his.

Taking the hint, he pulled the fabric aside and closed his mouth over first one breast and then the other. The humidity of his lips made her throb in all the right places. Surely, he was not a being of Heaven. The pleasure he inflicted was more sinful than any act of violence. His fingers flicked over the tiny caps of nipple that answered each breast, worrying it to a small, prickled bud that he could bite and tease until she growled and pressed his mouth to her more forcefully. He obliged her, but quickly pulled his mouth away, taking the nipple between his teeth and pulling until she cried out.

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BTW… you can buy Hellsong here.

 

Happy Wednesday!

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!  It’s Wednesday night and I’m sitting here all relaxed on the couch.  Just thought I’d stop by and let you all know what I’ve been up to over the last couple of weeks.  I know, I’ve been scarce.  I’m really trying  to do better, but working for a living sucks– lemme tell ya.  I’ve been grappling with the day to day so intensely that I really haven’t had much time to write or think for that matter.  I realize I’m not the only person experiencing this phenomenon, but of course– it’s my blog and I’ll  bitch if I want to.

Bitch #1:  Writers’ Apnea.  Why is it that I can’t seem to get any writing done when everyone else I know in the writing world is turning out finished products hand over fist?  I can’t even seem to concentrate on anything long enough to add 1,000 words, much less several thousand.  Do they make a mask for this?

Bitch #2:  The waiting game.  I’ve got two things in submissions right now and neither of which am I SURE is going to get picked up.  Both of which are close to wire with sending me a gigantic rejection email.  I’m not looking forward to it and I can feel myself being on edge.  One of the projects is my last novel, which I love deeply.  A 75K kinky adult version of Beauty and the Beast. What’s not to love, right?

Anyhow, enough of the bitchin’.  I realize how lucky I am to be a writer that other people might actually want to read.  I’m very lucky to have a job and a husband who loves me and a wiener dog that’s lovingly snoring in my lap even as I write this.  I’m lucky to have friends and family to pick me up when I’m down.  Basically, I really have nothing to bitch about so I should just shut it, right?  That being said, have a little snippet of a little WIP entitled “Bloodflower.”

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She held onto the rail, leaning way over to stare down at the ice cold waves
beneath the sea wall.  She wondered for a moment what it would feel like when the freezing water flooded into her lungs after she couldn’t hold on any longer.
Would she even know what was happening?  Would she try to fight it, screaming and begging for her life?  Would it hurt, or would it be like going to
sleep?  “No, I have to do this,” she whispered.  “It’s the only way to start
over.”  She put her foot out, as if testing the wind, and her fingers slipped around the cold, slippery railing.  “No!” she gasped, scrambling to  regain her footing.  She wrapped her arms around the cold metal and held on, afraid to let go but still afraid to crawl back to the other side.

“Well just go on and do it then.”

The voice came from behind and Willow struggled to turn and look.  “What?” she croaked.

“Jump.  It’s getting late and you’re in my way.”

“Pardon me?”  It was all she could say.  What kind of a person would interrupt an attempted suicide with such insolence. She looked around to the expanse of empty sidewalk that surrounded them.  “There seems to be no shortage of
room.”

“You’re in my favorite vantage point into the harbor.  I come here every night.  So if you’re going to jump, do get on with it.”  He leaned casually on the rail, staring down at her with a pair of eyes that glowed a silvery green in the dim streetlamp.  His stare was a bit unsettling and she had to look away, back towards the glowing eye of the lighthouse on the other end of the harbor.

“Are you planning on standing there to watch?” she asked, trying to keep the tremor of fear from her voice.

“Perhaps.  Though I must ask—are you planning on screaming and begging for your life?  That sort of ruckus always brings the cops around and I’d just as soon keep them out of it.”

Willow narrowed her eyes, turning back to glare at him with unmistakable annoyance. “Are you normally this rude?”

“What do you care?  You’re getting ready to die.”

“Well I’d rather do it in peace…”

“You’re the one talking.”

“You spoke first.”

The man sighed heavily.  “I don’t see the point in arguing anymore.  Just ignore me and do what you need to do.  I’ll even turn around.”  He sighed and turned his back, pulling a cigarette pack from his pocket and shaking one out.  In a few moments, she heard the click of a Zippo lighter and smelled the pungent scent of burning tobacco.

************************

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