Snippet from Daughter of Darkness

“No!” Pallo screamed from the staircase. He had trouble keeping up with me because he hadn’t fed yet.

I glanced back at him coming downstairs. His eyes flashed wildly at me. I stepped out the door, and felt the ground give way under my feet. My stomach rose to my throat. The ground came upon me with such force it knocked the wind out of me. My hair spilled over my face like a curtain. Something crashed onto the floor next to me. My breathing went ragged, and I felt like a caged animal.

“Are you all right?”

I pulled my hair back and looked wildly at Pallo crouched on the floor next to me. He looked sick. He was bent over, holding his abdomen. He was ghastly white, so much so that I thought he might glow in the dark.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I need to.…” He looked to me and could not bring himself to say the word feed.

“We need to get you back to the park. Come on.” I stood, and it hit me that we were not sitting in front of a house, but rather what looked to be a dungeon. All the joking I had done about his lifestyle, and he really did have one.

“This is not mine.”

I was getting pretty damn sick and tired of his little mind reading tricks but didn’t have the energy to fight with him. When I looked at him and saw his body hunched over like a tiger about to strike, I put my hand on his back. His skin was no longer warm. It was cold and clammy. “You’re dying.” I bent and wrapped my body around his. In my mind, I thought that my body heat would warm his, but it didn’t work.

“No. I am already dead.” No trace of the strong and sure Pallo remained in his voice.

“Well, great, since you’ve already been there and done that we can skip it and go home.”

“Home?” He turned his face to me. All of the glory had faded from his brown eyes, only gray ones remained.

“Yes, home. We can fight more after we get there.” I helped him to his feet. When I was sure he wasn’t going to pass out, I turned to examine the room.

“So, where are we? And don’t state the obvious again.”

“Hell.”

“Figuratively or literally?”

“Does it matter?”

He had a point. I wanted to ask him how to get out of here, but he put a finger to his lips to shush me. I listened, hearing only silence.

Pallo gestured to a metal door at the end of the room. He whispered in an unfamiliar language. I had no idea what he was saying, but if I had to take a crack at it, I’d have guessed he spoke in Latin.

“What are you doing?”

“Praying,” he said softly.

“Vampires do that?” I couldn’t hide the shock in my voice.

Howling pierced the silence like a knife. Pallo pulled me behind him in a protective manner and stood tall.

The door burst open. Two hellhounds leapt inside. They stopped at Pallo’s feet, growling. Red eyes blazed at us, almost glowing. They were at least the size of full grown Great Danes. Pallo pushed me back slowly.

“I see you’ve met the boys,” a woman’s voice said.

I looked to see her standing in the open doorway. She was about my height, average. Okay, short, and had long red hair and yellow eyes. She looked like she had been dunked in leather. A leather top squeezed her large breasts together, and her pants fit her body so tightly I was positive she couldn’t sit down.

She was familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her. Yeah, you would think that a pair of beady yellow eyes and a chick dressed like a biker-whore-from-hell would be easy to recall.

She spared me a glance then concentrated on Pallo.

“Pallo, Pallo. I didn’t expect a visit from you today.” She pulled a sheathed knife from her back pocket. “You should have called. I could have prepared the room, just the way you like it.”

“Talia, it has been a long time.”

“You know her?” I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer.

She took a step closer and caressed the neck of one hound.

“Who is your little friend? Do not tell me you’ve taken to bedding virgins again? I thought you were done with that. They break so easily, don’t they?” She smiled and fangs showed. I was happy at least one vamp I’d met was holding true to a Hollywood image. Now, if I only had some holy water, a crucifix, and or a stake, I’d be in good shape.

“He’s not bedding me, and I’m not a virgin.”

“Oh, I see why you like her. You always did have a thing for opinionated girls. Is she good with her mouth in other places as well?”

“Talia, to what do we owe the honor of this visit?” Pallo asked. The muscles in his arms flexed.

“I was running an errand for the Queen, but since I found you, let us just say it is for old time’s sake.” She pulled her knife free and licked the blade. I could feel Pallo’s fear. He was opening himself up to me, and feared this tiny little redhead.

“I do not recognize these two,” he said, looking at the hellhounds.

“They are new. They just completed the initiation process a few days ago. They no longer have ties to the human world. They ‘severed’ them. I have had to make so many new little ones as of late. I have lost many of my children. The humans hunt us like we are animals.”

“That’s a shocker.” I bit my lip, but it was too late the words were already out.

Talia gave me wry a look. “Show her you are not animals, boys.”

The two hounds’ backs curved abnormally backwards as they howled. I lifted my hands to cover my ears. The decibel level was almost deafening in the chamber.

Bones crunched and blood spilled from them as their features became human. A muzzle receded into one’s face. I thought I was going to be sick or possibly wet myself. At that stage of the game neither one would have bothered me in the least.

Two naked men stood before us when the transformation was finally over. They were identical in almost every way. One had a little bit longer coal black hair than the other. They looked to be only five foot seven or so in human form, a sharp contrast to their beast body. I couldn’t help but notice how gifted they both were in certain areas. They could have made a fortune in a twin strip show, but their eyes gave them away. Fiery red eyes still stared out from their well-crafted bodies. The night by the river ran through my head. Those were the same type of eyes that had come rushing towards me.

“Jacob and Jonathan Wilson, say hello.”

“Hello,” they said in unison. This was too much. I almost burst out laughing. I stopped and thought about what she had just said. Wilson? Jacob and Jonathan—those were Rick’s boys’ names. A horrible thought came to my head. They had murdered their own father. That is what Talia had meant by them “severing” their ties to the human world. Oh my God! The room felt suddenly hot, making me sick to my stomach.

Talia stepped between them and ran her hand along Jacob’s body. She turned and did the same to Jonathan. Both their cocks stood at attention.

“As much as we would love to stay and play with you, we really must be going,” Pallo said. I was amazed at how calm he kept his voice, even though I could feel his fear as if it was my own.

“You never used to run off before the festivities began. Are you softening with old age?”

She was really starting to get to me. I wanted to walk up to her and slap her right across the face. Pallo sensed my urge to hit her and shook his head.

“Don’t tell me you do not miss the days of old.” She held her knife out threateningly.

He stiffened. “No, Talia. I have left the days of torturing others behind me now, you know this.”

She looked pleased. “Yes, I had heard that you gave up your naughty ways. Why is that?”

“I had no reason to hate anymore.”

“You harbored much hate for two hundred years, what would change you so? Did you finally get over your little loss?” She talked with her hands, the knife skimming past Pallo’s chest. “I found your circumstances very unique. Tell me—how long after you were made did you have your heart broken? Less than half a year, if I’m not mistaken. To be made immortal and to lose your love… tell me, was she worth it? Did she fuck good enough to warrant leading you to the Devil himself?”

“I do not wish to discuss this with you,” he said, restrained violence in his voice.

“Answer me, Pallo. I asked you a question.” She lashed out and cut his chest. Blood pooled onto the floor, nearing my feet. Jason and Jonathan began to look restless. I could tell the smell of blood was exciting them, and it made me sick.

Talia struck Pallo again, catching his face.

“Stop!” I yelled, taking a step out from behind him.

“No!” he shouted, trying to pull me back.

Talia glared at me, her yellow eyes flaring. “The virgin speaks.”

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Saturday Snippet from Wicked Lucidity– a bit about friendship because sometimes I think we could all use a pick me up friendship piece :)

I stared at the large Victorian home in front of me. What was I thinking? The place was huge. Too big for just one person and certainly too much work for me. Calling it a fixer-upper was a far cry from the truth. My need to start a new life and protect the lives of others had outweighed my better judgment. I was hardly a master craftsman and I’d just taken on the project of a lifetime.

Pulling a box out of the trunk of my car, I glanced around at the rest of the neighborhood. It was even better than Amber had described. My house was one of three on the cul-de-sac. The one to my left had caught my eye the moment I’d arrived. The white home with green shutters looked as though it had been meticulously tended. Of course it would be my luck to move next door to someone who was picky. I could already see the feuds over my unkempt lawn. Maybe, if I were lucky, the neighbors would get mad enough to clean my yard because they were sick of looking at it.

“Karri, get your butt up here. You have got to see this!” Amber, my best friend, shouted from the fourth-story window.

I headed in, carrying the box of cleaning supplies as far as the front porch before I ran up the stairs. Walking into the large, full attic, I found Amber digging through two large chests I had specifically told the “movers” to put in the far back corner of the basement.

Yeah, they listened well.

The movers, also known as “my men,” were currently out to lunch. They’d spent the morning setting up my home office. Since they worked for me in the fight against evil, it was in their best interests to get me up and running as soon as possible. Livelihoods and actual lives depended on me. They’d already banished me from the room because I was hovering too much. They told Amber that she could stay, but from the way they were all staring at her breasts, I was scared to leave her without a chaperone.

Amber dug through the contents of the chest, her long auburn hair falling in and over it. She looked like a curious nymph all tucked in on a secret she couldn’t wait to reveal. She held up an object with a long silver handle and a pickaxe-like top. Her blue eyes grew with fascination. “What is all this stuff?”

“Weapons. They’re all from my father’s collection. I finally took them out of storage.”

“Wow,” she whispered.

I went to her quickly, removing the war pick from her hand, convinced she’d put an eye out if she wasn’t careful. “Let’s leave it be. Our luck we’ll chop our fingers off or something.”

“Pfft, you’re like Karri Lee, fighting queen. Hey, did you see the thing in there that looks like brass knuckles but it has claws on it instead? That’s wicked cool.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, it is wicked all right.”

Amber had a flare for dramatics. Not that it came even close to meeting mine, but still. The coffee shop she owned was set up more like a psychic reader’s home base but the locals seemed to flock there for the coffee all the same. In truth, she was very sensitive to most people and places so it made sense that she’d naturally lean towards the Psychics R Us look. Had she not been battling sickness, her skills and gifts could have developed more and she would’ve made one hell of a psychic.

As far as I knew, or rather, as far as Amber let on, she’d been doing well for the greater part of a year now. I hoped that was true. The idea of losing my closest friend terrified me. The idea of losing her to a cancer-like illness that human doctors didn’t understand and continually mislabeled sickened me. Amber’s sickness came from not using her powers. It was that simple. Since she was unaware she even had powers it wasn’t an easy fix and telling her to use what she’d been burying since birth wasn’t as cut-and-dry as it sounded.

One had to come into one’s powers on one’s own. It was just the way things were. Trust me, if I could have fixed her by shouting “use your magik” I, of all people, would have. It would have saved me a lot of pain and several deals with the devil.

Amber laughed. “Have you looked in the mirror?”

“No. I don’t have one hung up yet, so unless I can find a really reflective puddle then I’m not getting to see myself anytime soon. Why?”

Amber shook her head. “You look like an erotic cowgirl housekeeper.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She pulled her long hair back at the base and fastened it with the tie she kept on her wrist. “I can’t ever remember seeing you with a do-rag on your head. Don’t get me wrong, the whole big brown eyes, white-blonde hair hanging in loose strands from that rather sad bun thing is hot. But the red handkerchief, barely there, tiny top you’ve got tied over those borderline obscene breasts might be a bit too much. That looks like a bikini top gone horribly wrong.”

I snickered. So did Amber.

“Sort of like a cowgirl’s version of a day at the beach, Karri. Oh, I do love the dirt on your nose and cheek though. And the jean cut-offs thing you’ve got going is all the rage. The topper is the brown work boots. Nice.”

Glancing down, I bit my lip as I checked myself over. “I wasn’t aware I was being judged in the housecleaning portion of the pageant. If I say that I want to end world hunger for my question and answer time with the panel judges, will I still have a sporting chance of winning? I really want to be Ms. Bitch of the Universe.”

Amber shook her head and started down the wooden steps. “You are such a smartass.”

“Thanks. Can I get some points on that as well? Have they wised up and added that category yet?” I answered, following behind her. She went towards the front door and I went for the fridge. “Pick your poison,” I called out.

“Beer.”

“Beer it is. I should have known. You’re all cute and dainty looking, right up until I see you chugging on a cold one. Sorry I was a bad influence on you.” Grabbing two, I headed out and found Amber sitting on the front porch steps with her head down. Immediately, I worried that she was lying about being in remission. I’d seen her at her worst with it and had no desire to see her go through it again. If I could head it off, I would. “Hey, you feeling okay? We can take a break. In fact, we can call it quits for the day. I don’t win a turkey or turn into a pumpkin if I don’t finish unpacking by midnight. And since I have no prince, I’m in no hurry. Should I leave behind a work boot for any possibilities to find me later?”

Laughing, she shook her head. “I’m fine. Don’t start worrying for no reason.”

I sat down next to her and handed her a beer. “I earned my worry badge, honey. Take it or leave it.”

She nudged me and giggled. “I’m glad you finally moved out here. I hated knowing you were alone in New York.”

“I wasn’t alone, Amber. I had Chester.” I grinned from ear to ear as she moaned.

“Karri, a parakeet, which has since died, doesn’t count.”

Taking a sip of my beer, I winked as I aimlessly fiddled with the triple knot, silver charm necklace I wore all the time. “Now you’re discriminating against non-humans. What happened to you? We didn’t graduate that long ago.”

Amber snorted. “You know it’s bad when I start thinking seven years is a lifetime.”

To Amber, seven years was a long time. As sick as she’d been, it was a miracle that she was here at all. I wrapped my arm around her and gave her a good squeeze. “This is a music moment if I ever felt one coming on.”

“Oh no, you aren’t going to get me dancing around in public again. My days for that are long gone.”

Ignoring her, I hopped to my feet and rushed to find my portable CD player. I’d last seen it in the dining room but that didn’t mean much in the middle of a move. With the endless heaps of boxes scattered about my house, it could be buried anywhere. “Tony, Tony, look around.” I smiled as I did my slight homage chant to the patron, Saint Anthony, who was supposed to help me find lost things. Or, at least that’s what I think he was good at helping with. My luck he was the one you asked for help when you wanted to lose something.

I let my power up just enough to find what I was looking for. The second I zeroed in on the CD player, I dropped the power.

As I picked the player up, I found a box marked dresses and costumes. Setting the CD player on it, I picked it up and took it out with me, happy that I’d propped the screen door open with a brick. Trying to carry it all would have been impossible otherwise.

I set it down next to Amber and wagged my brows. Opening the box, I couldn’t hide my excitement as I saw all the things I still had. I grabbed the long white wedding dress and its sister, a floor-length emerald green maid of honor dress. “Look what I found.” I held the dresses up. The green one had been tailor made for Amber with the idea she’d be my maid of honor. Yeah, that’s right. I was supposed to be the bride. I bit back a laugh. Too bad it didn’t work out that way.

Amber shook her head. “No way.”

“Hey, we might as well get our use out of them.” Tossing the green dress to Amber, I laughed as she caught it and pulled it over her head quickly.

I stepped into the sleeveless wedding dress and pulled it up my body. Its large, bell-like bottom flared out all around me. I zipped it as best I could and bent down to the CD player. “I thought one of these moments might come about so I made a CD for the occasion.”

Amber covered her eyes and peeked out from between her fingertips. “Please tell me that you didn’t do what I think you did.”

I pushed play and stood before her. One of the seventies disco songs that I’d played to death when we lived together came on and Amber squealed. “No, you still have this? You were too young to like it in college. I’ll dig a hole so you can bury it. Dump the wedding stuff in it too. I’m sure I can even find you a sparkling silver shovel to bury it with.”

Putting my hand out, I waited for her to take it. She refused it. I didn’t give up. I swayed my hips back and forth, reenacted every seventies dance I could think of and was on the verge of singing. Amber stared out from under her hands, laughing hysterically.

“Hey, are you suggesting I dance like a court jester?”

“Yeah, if court jesters should be in a thong on a pole, then you sure do. Only you could pull it off in that get-up.” She dropped her head down and snorted. “Heaven help the children of the neighborhood.

“Come on, Strawberry Field. Get out here.”

“Don’t go calling me that again, Karri.”

I kept dancing. Seeing Amber happy made me not care who thought what of me. Not that I’d ever cared much in that department anyway. “I’ll keep hitting repeat on the playing of the funky music if you don’t join me.”

Amber stood slowly and sighed. “Know that I do this only to spare your neighbors any further torture.”

“Mmmhmm.” I put my hand out to her and pulled her gently to me. We did a fake bump of hips. I concentrated hard on paying attention to my strength with her. It wouldn’t take much power on my part to inflict damage to her and that wasn’t something I’d allow to happen.

The second Amber began moving her head to the beat, I couldn’t help but smile wide. “I knew you still had it in you. And I would like to point out that even considering all of his flaws, he, note that I’m not naming names, did a wonderful job of selecting a dress that looks hot on you.” Every piece of me wanted to shout exactly who had had the dresses made. Somehow, the very whisper of Jean-Paul’s name could bring him and I wasn’t really up to seeing him. Not that he’d venture out in broad daylight, but still. I held my tongue.

“Gee, I’ll have to send him a thank you.”

I laughed. “Umm, please don’t.” We moved to the beat, just like old times. “Whoohoo, it’s still there. I was afraid you might have either lost your love for our private disco revival moments or did your best to forget them.”

The faint sound of a screen door opening filled the air. It made the idea of being in a real neighborhood all that much more exciting. There wasn’t, as yet, any demon shouting out how I was the Dark Angel sent to destroy them all. No. There was the sound of a screen door. As mundane as that may be to anyone else, to me, it was heaven.

The feeling of being watched came over me then passed quickly. I didn’t obsess about it. In fact, having an audience for my theatrics was always kind of fun. At the moment, Amber laughing and smiling was the most important thing to me.

“How could I ever forget those revivals?” she asked, spinning into my arms and then back out again. “You worked your magik over me and left me a closet fan of music that people run from. Sorry, but that includes the ‘80’s.”

“Hey, I say we start a petition to get leg warmers, ripped up sweatshirts and spandex back on the market. Think jumpsuits and front men of bands. Though, unless they’re a lycan or shifter of some sort, they aren’t allowed to have chest hair.”

“Oh, we’re making exceptions now?” Amber mused, as we danced in close to one another shaking our upper bodies and laughing. “Are you now dating blonds too?”

I gasped. “Bite your tongue. That’s blasphemy! Blonds—ugg. My hair is blonde enough. I don’t want to be staring at another head of it. Besides, doesn’t every little girl dream of growing up to find that tall, dark and deadly man of her fantasies?”

“You mean tall, dark and handsome.”

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 King, King, Goose by Mandy M. Roth

     King Najarni stood outside the thick wooden door, his palm

pressed to it and his head bent. He pushed his shoulder length dark hair

back from his face. “Tara, allow me to enter.”

     “No,” she said, her temper still evident.

He sighed. When he’d taken a human as his mate—his wife—he

knew the road of marriage would not always be a smooth one. Tara was

so different from the females of his realm. They were mild, meek even,

always ready and willing to serve their husbands. Tara was strong willed,

often setting him in his place, regardless of who was around. He would

have her no other way.

     “I have already said I was sorry,” he pushed. “I only wanted to

give you what you speak of so often—a real Christmas.” The holiday was

not one celebrated by his people so he knew little of it. He’d sent two of

his advisors along with six of his finest warriors to the human realm to

gather what would be needed. They’d returned with several wagons full

of materials and other items.

     His servants had spent the greater part of two days preparing the

hall for the event and Najarni spent equally as long keeping his wife

occupied in their bedchamber so as not to spoil the surprise.

     When he led her to the hall and the music began to play, he

thought his wife would perhaps grant him a look at her beautiful smile.

One he never tired of. She had done so right up to the point she spotted

the strange creature his advisors had returned with. It was caged and

spent most of its time hissing and flapping its large wings. When Najarni

informed her it was to be part of the feast, the only reward he was given

was a look of horror before she stomped on his foot, deemed him to be a

giant, mean, oaf and then ran to their chambers, where she still remained.

     “Tara,” he whispered.

     “I’m not coming out,” she spoke with brutal deliberation. “You’re

a tyrant.”

     “Because I wished to give you a feast to celebrate a time of the year

you hold dear?” He saw not how he could viewed in such a manner when

he only wished to please her.

     Opening the door, she made an odd noise before peeking out at

him. Her green eyes danced with fury. “Because you ordered Roger’s

death.”

     Roger?

     His brows met. “I know no Roger and ordered no such death.”

     “The goose,” she snapped.

     “I know no goose and again, ordered no such death.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “The creature in the cage. The

one you want to serve me for dinner.”

     Understanding came to him and he knew he was in trouble with

his wife. An insipid grin slid over his face. “Ah,” he paused, “you wish no

harm to come to The Roger?”

     She blinked and stared up at him through hooded lashes. Her red

hair framed her heart shaped face, making the blue of her eyes stand out

more. “You mean the goose?”

     “Yes, that is what I said. The Roger. Are they not the one in the

same?”

     Tara’s lips trembled and he was unsure if she was on the verge of

tears or laughing. When customs from the human realm came up in

discussion, she often found humor in his questions or responses. He

wasn’t sure why.

     “Promise me you won’t hurt Roger,” she said, tugging at her lower

lip.

     He watched the action intensely, wanting to steal a kiss but

knowing better than to try when she was in her current mood. “You have

my word.” He put his arm out to her. “Come, we shall enjoy this

Christmas gathering.”

     She slid her arm through his and put her head to his upper arm.

They made their way through the castle, to the great hall and the moment

they entered, all persons present stopped what they were doing and bent

their heads, honoring the arrival of the king and queen. Najarni glanced

over the crowd. “I hereby decree that no harm shall befall The Roger.”

     His guards shared confused looks.

     He pointed to the creature in the cage. “That is a Roger. It is not to

be harmed. You are to protect it with your lives.”

     Tara hid her laugh behind a cough and held tight to her husband’s

arm. There was no point in explaining again that Roger was a goose. Not a

Roger. Once Najarni made his mind up about something, it was incredibly

difficult to change it.

     His men nodded in understanding and he waved a hand in a

dismissive fashion in the air. The festivities continued, though this time, a guard

took a position near the cage, standing in a protective manner.

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“Shouldn’t we have landed on Margaidia by now? We weren’t that far from it and the PODs were set to make…” She stopped talking when she noticed the forlorn look upon his face. “Lieutenant Commander?”

His blue eyes found her and she drew in a breath under the weight of them. “Buckle up, sweetie. We’re about to enter Sargaidia’s atmosphere. And you can call me Bradi, Doc. I think you’ve earned it.”

Earned it?

“You mean Margaidia, right?”

He grabbed hold of her waist and set her down in the POD seat. Ignoring her protests, he buckled her in anyway. “Janelle? What’s going on?”

He climbed into the control seat and buckled himself in as well. The POD thumped hard against an unseen force and she screamed out. Bradi’s eyebrows went up as if to say, you ain’t seen nothing yet.

Another scream caught in her throat as he lifted the protective visor, allowing her a full view of what was before them. Shades of red, green and blue were everywhere. Although Marisa had only been off Earth a few times in her life, she knew enough about landings to know that something wasn’t right. “Bradi, aren’t we going a bit fast?”

“You can say that again.”

“W-What?”

“Nothing. Umm, the POD’s controls froze for a bit. I barely got them up and running before we got trapped in the planet’s atmosphere.” He pulled hard on the steering shift as the POD began its rapid descent.

Marisa’s stomach lurched as the bottom seemed to drop out from under them. The speed at which they were traveling would most definitely kill them upon landing. She said a silent prayer under her breath and reached out for comfort. Finding Bradi’s arm, she settled and held tight. Something about the man made her feel safer.

Bradi risked a quick glance at Marisa and saw her reaching out for him. He thought it was to punch him, and was surprised when she not only laid her hand on him, but gave him a gentle squeeze too. His loins burned again to be buried in her and he shifted awkwardly in the seat.

You’re about to die here, buddy, he thought to himself, stealing a glance down toward his cock. Do you think you could get your head in the game and off her for a moment?

The red sea that bordered the jungle came into focus and Bradi cursed himself for not figuring out a way to land the POD sooner. He’d misjudged and thought that if he waited another hour they’d be closer to the inhabited compounds of the planet and closer to help. He’d been wrong.

“Janelle, tell me it’s going to be okay again,” Marisa said, squeezing his arm more and breaking his heart in the process. “Please tell me that. I need to hear you say it. I trust you and need to…”

Against his better judgment, Bradi gave into what she needed to hear, all the while wishing she’d call him by his first name. “It’ll be okay, baby. I promise.”

Marisa’s grip on him tightened and he looked into her green eyes just as the sea greeted them.

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“I’ve been meaning to ask you about your heritage, Lieutenant Commander,” Marisa said, doing her best to stay focused. It was far from easy. Sneaking a peek at Bradi’s perfect body would be so easy. She’d lain awake countless nights wondering about him, knowing it was wrong. Each time she pleasured herself, it was Bradi’s face she saw in her mind, his body she imagined in her, not the man who was supposed to be there.

“My heritage?” he asked, taken aback.

“Yes, you don’t look like other Corneusims I’ve met before.”

Bradi laughed slightly. The very sound shook her to her core. “Why would I look like a horny toad warrior from the planet Cornu?”

It was as she expected. The man had doctored his medical records. He certainly wasn’t the first officer to do so, nor would he be the last. Whatever reason he had for hiding must have been a good one—to make him as desperate as he’d been. “Hmm, just wondering. After all, your last blood scans showed traces of Corneusim DNA in it.”

Mumbling under his breath, Bradi rubbed his strong jaw. It seemed to be a habit he only had when he was dealing with her. “Doc Graves is ancient. I bet his equipment failed again, or more than likely he just mixed up the samples.”

Bradi was right Dr. Graves, the ship’s head physician, was old but not careless. Mixing up samples wasn’t something he would do. Marisa decided to fight this battle with him at a later date. Right now, she planned on immunizing him and drawing a sample of his blood in the process. Marisa wouldn’t submit it to the officials. No. Bradi had his reasons for hiding. She just needed to set her own mind at ease. “Ready to bare it all, Lieutenant Commander?”

He released the slight hold he had on his pants, letting them fall to his ankles and grinned from ear to ear. The absence of underwear gave Marisa a quick flash of his front side before he turned around and pulled his T-shirt up. Her breath caught and her inner thighs tightened. Hell, the man wasn’t even erect and his cock was impressive. There was no way Bradi would ever fit in her.

Thank the gods I can’t have him. He’d break me.

Staring at his rock-hard ass did little in the way of alleviating the overwhelming need to touch Bradi. Would it be so wrong to just trace the edges of his tight body? She licked her lips, imagining her fingers digging into each cheek as he fucked her. Marisa fought to maintain what little she still held of her composure. “All set?”

“I would much rather have you remove my pants next time, Doc,” he said, his deep voice moving over her.

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Here is the opening from my book Somber Resplendence

Prologue

Aland flashed into the locker room of the dance studio, Sirius, his best friend and brother-at-arms, near his side. They’d been on the hunt for a group of renegade Constellaziogēn warriors. Men who ignored the rules set in place by their king long ago. The renegades didn’t care that they were hurting, stealing and even killing human women. All that mattered to them was finding a mate, someone to sate their needs and spend their seed in with the hopes of reproducing. Whether or not that female was willing and was truly destined to be theirs was secondary. They hunted for women with psychic gifts, born under the same astrological sign as the legion in which the warrior served. Their actions sickened Aland. While he didn’t exactly believe humans were the be-all and end-all, he did respect their lives and understand their value to the way of things. They were part of the natural order. A balance needed to keep all realms healthy and happy.

The stench of a renegade was all around them. Tainted power and magik almost always accompanied the ones who had grown too bold, who thought themselves untouchable as did the main one they hunted now.

Xipil.

It was the renegades who still worried about being caught who proved the hardest to track. They bothered to cover their energy signature and looked for new ways to sneak paste the Gatekeepers undetected.

Blinding white light from a portal caused them both to lift their hands to shield their faces. Between the smell, the light and the strumming of power in the air around them, it was evident someone had opened an unauthorized portal. Not only that, they’d done so in a location that did not naturally lend itself to one. The physics of their society were far more advanced than that of humans. Even so, a heavy amount of constellation appreciation, knowledge and magik was required. To open a portal in a spot ill-equipped for one meant the person was desperate. They were unstable at best. While they wouldn’t do much in the way of damage to the surrounding area, they weren’t something Aland would willingly pass through—not if he wanted to come out the other side totally intact. This lot apparently didn’t care about safety.

Catching sight of Sirius, Aland reached out, nudging his friend. “Where’s Phoebe?” he asked, concern for his friend’s mate first and foremost on his mind.

The sound of a male voice drifted to them. It was coming from the other side of the locker room. “Tell me, Phoebe, when is the last time you visited your sister?”

“What’s wrong with Sidney?” Phoebe asked, her voice tight.

Sirius reacted first, rushing in the direction of his mate’s voice. Aland followed closely behind. Xipil, the renegade, had betrayed his own kind by trying to take what wasn’t rightfully his—a mate. He and others like him had orchestrated abductions all over the area the media was now dubbing the Zodiac Zone. So far, Xipil was the only renegade stupid enough to make another go at Phoebe.

“Nothing,” Xipil said. “Other than the fact she foolishly separated herself from you on purpose. With no mate present, and two powerful females in one location, you were like a beacon to us. She sensed this.”

Aland and Sirius slowed their pace, using a row of lockers as cover. If Xipil knew they’d arrived, he’d do something rash, like kill Phoebe. Sirius motioned to Aland to move around and flank Xipil from the other side. With a nod, Aland did as instructed, drawing upon his natural-born powers along the way.

“She even managed to keep us at bay,” Xipil said, still talking with Phoebe. Aland was confused as to who the “she” of the matter was but he held his questions for a later date. “There is even word that she managed to reach a Gatekeeper, summoning him forth to aid in protecting you.”

“What do you want from me?” Phoebe demanded. “You have to realize that I’m not about to run off into the sunset with you, and that my husband will kill you when he gets his hands on you.”

Aland slipped into position and let his magik trickle out and through the locker room in search of Sirius. When it found him, he formed a mental link with his long-time friend. It wasn’t something that could be done all the time between males who weren’t blood related but it was something that could be done in short bursts.

Your mate is in my line of fire, he pushed with his mind. Get her to go to the floor.

Xipil picked that moment to point at the television in the upper corner of the locker room. It sat just above Aland’s current hiding place. He stepped into the shadows more to get a better look at what the renegade was doing. The channel on the television changed. An image filled the screen, one Aland knew wasn’t being broadcast from anywhere other than Xipil himself. It was something he was determined to show Phoebe.

Three young girls appeared. One he recognized instantly as Phoebe as a child. Another he reasoned to be her cousin Heather. The third was one he’d not yet met but his deductive skills told him it was most likely Sidney, Phoebe’s sister—who now resided in a mental ward.

While too young for him, the girl was breathtakingly beautiful. It was easy to see she would grow up to be stunning. Something about her caused an odd pulling sensation to occur behind Aland’s navel. He tried to rip his gaze from the image of Sidney, but couldn’t.

A dog ran in a circle around the three girls as they played. Sidney bent, helping Phoebe tie her shoes.

“You were destined to be one of us,” Xipil said to Phoebe as she too watched the television screen, seeming as captivated as Aland was.

“The others, the Gatekeepers, do not see what we see,” Xipil continued. “The resistance knows the truth. You and the others like you, Phoebe, are more than connected to us. You’re not human like the others wish to believe. See for yourself.”

The image continued to play out on the screen. The girls all had chalk and were drawing upon the sidewalk. Phoebe near her sister, giving instructions on how best to draw symbols human children should know nothing about.

They were symbols meant for travel between the realms. Symbols used by his people.

Sidney glanced at Heather, giving a small sigh. “How long do you think she’s going to keep making us draw the same thing?”

Heather laughed. “You don’t want to know.”

“You’re not putting all of them on there again,” Phoebe protested, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “Why?”

Pushing her long black hair from her face, Sidney stared out from blue eyes, seeming annoyed with the child. “Because you just keep making up new ones so I have to draw more.”

“No I don’t,” Phoebe said. “Lynx is real. It’s just not as old as most of them. But it’s really up there. It’s another gate point. A secret one. Don’t tell anyone that it’s a gate point too because they’ll know I visit and they’ll get mad.”

Sidney and Heather stared at one another. “What do you mean ‘visit’?” Sidney forced a smile to her face as she centered her focus on her sister. “Phoebe, please tell me you’re just making up more stories.”

“What?” Heather asked, nudging Sidney lightly. “You don’t believe her, do you? I mean, no one can…” She seemed to ponder something for a moment, biting at her lower lip before speaking once more, “What if I told you I dreamed about this constellation?”

“Ooo, want to go for real? Here.” Putting her tiny arms out in the air, Phoebe began to twirl. Flower petals appeared out of nowhere, floating about the girls’ heads. Sidney and Heather raced toward Phoebe.

“Phoebe, stop!” Sidney pleaded. “They’ll sense you! They’ll come and steal you like Daddy said they would. Stop!”

“But don’t you want to see it?” the younger version of Phoebe asked. “It’s very pretty. It’s like when we go to stay at great-grandma’s house. Lots of trees, birds, really big birds. I saw a purple one before. Honest-to-Gods purple.”

Renegade warriors filled the screen, converging on the girls. One grabbed Phoebe and the dog bit the warrior’s arm, causing him to release the young girl. Sidney and Heather lunged for her, grabbing her and then tumbling into a heap. The renegades continued to come for them.

Pushing her way to the top of the pile, Sidney glared at the men, as if daring them to make another move. They did and when she spoke, it was with the native tongue of his people. Her words, loosely translated, were a call to open a portal to another realm. Aland couldn’t look away. Never had he seen any female, let alone a human one, do something such as that.

The renegade warriors were sucked through the portal quickly. A terrified Phoebe clung to her cousin all the while Sidney remained calm and collected. She whispered something softly, again in Aland’s native tongue. “Forget that which you have witnessed upon this day. I shall take the memories, the fear and the knowledge of this with me to my death for it is my duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

The words were ones that would be spoken by ancient warriors. They weren’t ones said by a human child who was barely in her teens. The image faded to black and Aland almost foolishly revealed his location in hopes of seeing more of Sidney. How dare the renegade drag up memories best left forgotten. How dare he know anything about events that had obviously taken a toll on not only Phoebe but her sister as well—a female Aland felt an unnatural pull toward.

“Do you know what she did for you, Phoebe?” Xipil questioned.

Aland wanted to level the man but Phoebe was still in the way.

“Of course not,” Xipil said. “She cast a memory spell on you and Heather. She did it so you could both still sleep at night. Though in doing so, she isolated herself, never able to talk about what had happened, what she knew was going to happen.” He took a step toward her. “You see, Phoebe, your sister was well aware we would keep coming for you all. She shouldered that burden on her own to allow you, the baby girl, to live without fear. It drove her mad. You drove her mad.”

Phoebe shook her head. “No. I didn’t drive Sidney crazy. I didn’t. Did I?”

“Come. I can fix her, Phoebe.” Xipil extended his hand. “I can make Sidney whole again. All you have to do is agree to come with me. To join me.”

Phoebe got down fast. Aland struck without warning, as did Sirius, thrusting their power out and above Phoebe’s body. Xipil tumbled backward. A fellow renegade appeared, this one bearing scars on his arms.

Phoebe rose slowly, her attention fixed on the newcomer. Anger radiated off her in powerful waves.

He gave a lecherous smile. “Xipil, she is even more glorious than you said.” He took a step toward her and she laughed. “You think me funny, human?”

“Very,” Phoebe replied.

The scarred renegade blinked away only to reappear directly in front of Phoebe, blocking Aland’s clear shot of him. “I visit your sister often, Phoebe,” he said. “Shall I tell you what I do to her while she’s strapped down?”

White-hot hate filled Aland. For a moment, the only sound he heard was that of his heart thumping in his ears. He clenched his fists, his power coursing through his veins at the thought of Sidney being hunted by the renegade. All too easily Aland could picture her being tormented by the man.

He snarled, the desire to kill great.

Much to Aland’s surprise, Phoebe took matters into her own hands, delivering a wicked kick to the groin. “What have you done to my sister, asshole?”

“Well done, Phoebe,” Xipil said, clapping. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to take down a Constellaziogēn even when you are one yourself? I find it nearly impossible to believe one as young as you can do it. Had I not seen it with my own eyes I would not have believed it.”

The scarred warrior made a move for her again.

Phoebe surprised Aland more by tapping into gifts he wasn’t aware she possessed. She locked the scarred warrior in power, holding him in place. He tapped the force-field surrounding him. “I sensed this in you when you were just a child,” he said. “I knew. I told the others that you and the other girls were more than just human. I bet you’re as sweet to taste as your sister. I bet your—”

Aland roared, his magik breaking free of him. He lost himself in the moment, the primal need to kill the man who had dared to harm Sidney all consuming. He gave in. The room shook as a ball of yellow light shot forth from Aland. It struck the scarred renegade, going through Phoebe’s power, circling him, causing pain the likes of which the man had never known before.

Aland walked with purpose out from his position behind the locker, his gaze never leaving the scarred renegade. “What did you do to Sidney?”

“N-nothing. I-I swear,” the man said, stumbling over his words. “She doesn’t let anyone near her. S-she’s powerful.”

“You’re lying!” Aland shouted, thrusting additional power at the man. “What the fuck did you do to her? You had no right to look upon her, let alone touch her! No right!”

Aland’s magik continued to do as it pleased. It wanted to exact revenge. So did he.

Doing nothing to stop it, Aland watched through narrowed eyes as a funnel-shaped white portal opened directly behind the enemy. It was not his doing. This portal was forced open by Sirius as he thrust Xipil through it. Aland stared down at the scarred man as he prepared to deliver a killing blow.

Sirius rushed toward him, shaking his head. “Aland, don’t do this. Send him to the King’s dungeons to await trial. Killing him isn’t the answer.”

“He hurt Sidney,” Aland whispered, pain lancing his chest.

“You know my sister?” Phoebe questioned, sounding surprised.

Sirius grunted, his gaze still on Aland. “You can’t help her if you’re being held on charges by the King.”

His friend was right. Aiding Sidney would be impossible if he was sitting in one of the king’s cells. Pulling back on his power slightly, he tapped into Sirius’ residual energy, opening another portal. He kicked the scarred warrior through it, waiting until he was sure there could be no hope of rescue before forcing the portal closed at its midpoint.

If Sirius asked, Aland would tell his friend what he’d want to hear—that he’d sent the renegade to a cell in one of the king’s dungeons. The truth of the matter was far more grim.

The renegade was dead.

Nothing could survive a portal being terminated in mid-stream. Aland would risk the wrath of his king if it meant Sidney was safe. He turned to stare at the now-blank television screen.

One thought held firm.

She’s my mate and she needs me.

The image flickered and this time his magik latched onto it, causing his mind to see the truth of the matter. She was indeed all grown now and alone. For a split second Aland was positive Sidney’s soul called to his. He lost his footing and stumbled, catching himself with a hand to the wall. With a ragged breath, he gathered his wits about him and pulled his power back into himself. Soon, he’d make his move. Very, very soon.

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Vivian Arend

Prologue

Sevan moved slightly, getting a better angle on the beauty below him. Lorelei had haunted his dreams now for months and although he’d come to understand that he’d wake to find his sleep quarters empty and the raven-haired goddess below him only a memory, he still caressed her tenderly. For the time being, she was his and he’d use that to his full advantage. He circled her bellybutton with his tongue as he looked up the length of her perfect body. Letting his eyes linger over her ample breasts and dark nipples, he could find no imperfection.

The Fates themselves must have taken pity on him. Loving someone wasn’t an option for him or others like him—the ones who carried the tiniest bits of supernatural DNA. Thankfully, Sevan’s blood carried so little that the Commission’s screening didn’t catch it. Only he and his family knew. If he dared to take a woman as his wife and attempted to have children, no one could be certain how much, if any of his gifts they’d receive. Already one of his cousins who had even fewer traits than Sevan had given birth to a son who could shift forms, leaving him no choice but to go into hiding. Even if he found a woman who didn’t want children, he’d never be able to explain away some of his oddities. Like how at random times when under extreme stress, his eyes tended to shift colors. The irony was, he wanted everything he couldn’t have. A wife. Children. A family.

Hiding under the Commission’s nose was the best place to be. If the Commission ever learned of his ancestry they would court-martial him if he was lucky. Death would be the alternative.

Now, coming upon the phase in his life where he wanted a family more than life itself, he daydreamed about his mate, what she would look like, who she might be. It was then that the dreams of Lorelei began. No part of Sevan believed she was truly the one for him. No. She was too perfect. Too beautiful. Too glorious to be real. He now looked forward to sleeping in hopes of dreaming of her. So far, in the six months since the dreams began he and Lorelei had been together each and every night.

Licking his way down her flat stomach, Sevan stopped when he reached the thin, well-maintained strip of black hair covering her mound. He parted Lorelei’s slit, revealing her pink bud and smiled wickedly. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. The sight of you all spread out before me makes my dick so hard that I can’t stand it.”

“Please, Sevan,” she whispered.

He couldn’t help but smile at Lorelei’s soft pleas for more. This woman his mind had created was so far beyond faultless that it was immeasurable. The idea of waking and losing even a second with her terrified him. Inching lower, Sevan dropped his head down and captured her clit, flicking his tongue back and forth over it.

She inched up on the bed, doing her best to try to escape him. Knowing that she loved when he did it, Sevan continued, hooking his arms around her thighs and pulling her to him. He licked, sucked and caressed her, bringing about tiny gasps and sweet moans from her lips.

“Please.”

Sevan sucked gently. His heart beat wildly. He knew she wanted him in her but he wanted her to come first. Her happiness meant everything to him. Of course, his need to please her was part selfish as well. When she came he was able to lick it, taste it, enjoy it coating his tongue as he shared in her joy, forever committing it to memory. Sliding a hand around, he inserted a finger into her tight channel as he continued to run his tongue over her clit.

Lorelei cried out and laced her fingers in his hair. The knowledge that she was close to hitting her peak spurred him on. He increased his pace and added a second finger. The moment her legs drew together, effectively clamping his head, he knew she’d reached culmination. Her pussy convulsed around his fingers and cream trickled freely from her. Sevan’s dick jerked painfully, needing to find solace in her—and soon.

Crawling up the bed quickly, Sevan took hold of his rigid cock and aligned it with her heated core. He entered, instantly burying himself to the hilt. He prayed silently that the dream not end, that he not wake before he had a chance to do everything he wanted to do to her and so very much more.

Lorelei bucked beneath him, grabbing hold of his ass and pulling him to her. He increased his thrusts. Her body took hold of his, fisting his shaft as he worked in and out of her. It was heavenly. Every dream always was. It was as though Lorelei was made especially for him. His subconscious had created a woman so perfect that no woman in his waking hours could compare to her. Sadly enough, he doubted that even his true mate would measure up next to Lorelei and the place she’d taken in his heart.

“Do you like that, baby?” he asked, already knowing she did.

Nodding her head, Lorelei bit her lower lip and stared up at him with eyes so blue they didn’t look natural. The walls of her pussy grabbed him and held his cock in her as she came again. This time Sevan joined her, pushing down and locking to her tight. Unable to stop himself, Sevan gave in and emptied his seed deep within her, filling her to the point she couldn’t possibly hold it all.

Lorelei’s grip on him loosened slowly, making way for tiny caresses. She ran her hands through his hair and hugged him, giving him the reassurance he needed that she was still there. “Thank you.”

http://samhainpublishing.com/romance/paranormal-payload

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Here is one of mine from my book Going the Distance, now out with Samhain Publishing

Excerpt from Going the Distance

Quinn twisted, remaining crouched as he watched his opponent through the eyes of a predator. He knew the score and what was at stake. Kill or be killed. The high octagon steel cage that enclosed them was charged with enough electricity to cause damage to anything, including supernaturals. It was designed to keep them in and the onlookers out of harm’s way. The gawkers. The high-society humans who wanted the thrill of living on the edge of danger yet the knowledge and assurance they were safe from the beasts before them.

The underground circle of fights was big business for the organizers and promoters. The police were supposed to care what happened to supernaturals. Some did. Most didn’t. The deathmatches were a way to cut down on the population of paranormal creatures that lived among them.

Taking out the trash.

A low rumble of a growl emanated from Quinn as the words that had once been spoken over his dead mother’s body resonated in his head. He clenched his fists, no longer seeing his opponent before him but rather the cop who had made that callous statement twenty-five years prior. He pictured the scene with accuracy as if it had happened only yesterday. He remembered the feeling of helplessness, the desire to strike out but he’d lacked the size and skill to actually do so.

Not now. No, now he was capable of playing out his rage and he harnessed it.

“I’ll show you trash.” Quinn shot forward, seized hold of the man’s neck and snapped it with ease. As the dramatic letdown coming from the crowd around him penetrated his ears, Quinn’s vision cleared. He pushed memories of the cop from his head as he tossed the dead body far from him. It landed on the canvas mat, covering the perversely cheerful logo of the current vendor who supported the match.

Sweeping an agitated gaze over the gathered crowd, Quinn barely heard their negative remarks.

“Bullshit!” one yelled.

“That wasn’t a fight.”

“Beat him.”

The shouts continued. They’d come for a show. To see the once Extreme Fighting Champion in a fight to the death with their latest up-and-comer. To witness two animals going at it, ripping each other apart to win the chance to live. Savagery had been ordered and the bill had come due. What they’d received was a three-minute match that was over before it truly began.

The stirrings of a riot continued and Quinn knew he’d pay dearly for not giving the show expected of him. The men he fought weren’t good men. They were the criminals, the immoral and the undesirables from the supernatural community—just like him. Though, at one point in his life, he’d thought of himself as a decent guy.

No more.

The buzzer sounded and Quinn backed up, hoping they’d turned off the electric current in the fence. His keepers had been known to leave it on just to screw with him. They gained perverse pleasure from his pain.

He put his hands behind him, his palms facing out, ready for his wrists to be shackled once more. One of the guards reached through the opening and clasped a set of silver manacles on his wrists. While they still stung slightly, they’d long since scarred his wrists to the point the pain no longer brought him to his knees. His kind had an allergy to silver and his captors knew as much.

“Assholes,” he mumbled under his breath.

Deep-set rage roused him. He looked over the crowd once more, hate shining in his eyes. The humans continued to curse him and throw items at the cage because he hadn’t lived up to what he was—an animal. A liquid of some sort splashed through the cage bars and landed on his lower mouth and cheek. It was sickeningly sweet.

Soda.

Anger coalesced within him. He flexed his fingers, his hands still bound behind him. His gaze slipped over the crowd, tracking the path the liquid had come from. When he spotted the thin, weasel-looking human male who had clearly been the culprit, Quinn smiled, showing teeth. The look was deadly. “You should run now,” he said evenly, but at a volume level the human could hear.

One of the guards banged the cage. “Shut the fuck up, animal.”

The human in the crowd gulped and bolted into the mass of people.

Amused, Quinn licked his lower lip, the taste of the soda still there. He spit to the side, catching a guard.

“Oops.” He shrugged, unapologetically.

The guard’s expression grew menacing and Quinn suppressed a chuckle. If the asshole wanted to go a round, Quinn was more than up for it. Of course, the guards never fought fairly. They relied on shocking him, ganging up on him and beating him into submission with silver chains. They were cowards and he lived for the day he could exact his revenge upon them.

He spit again, doing his best to score another hit to the guard, already knowing nothing would come of it. The crowd’s enthusiasm was falling fast. The guards had bigger things to worry about at the moment than him spitting on them.

He was a huge draw for the crowds. His fights were always standing room only because of just how much they enjoyed coming to see him be the savage he truly was.

The wolf within him caught the scent of something familiar. He sniffed the air, zoning past the stench of death, of sweat, of humans and zeroed in on the source of the disruption to his senses.

A woman. Not just any woman.

He knew that scent.

“Carri?”

As if on cue, there she was. Her chocolate eyes were wide and she looked pale, almost sickened by the events unfolding around her. Long, dark brown wisps of hair framed her heart-shaped face, bringing attention to her full lips.

Lips that trembled as she met his gaze.

His heart raced. “No.”

It couldn’t be.

She was dead.

Quinn looked harder at the woman, inhaling deeper. There was no denying it. She was the same woman he’d sensed two years prior. She was Carri. The one he’d run to, trying to save only to find himself at the hands of madmen. The very woman he’d sampled paradise with, her kiss divine. A piece of him had died that day. He’d assumed she was gone, her body rejecting the healing agents in his saliva and blood. That’s what his captors had told him. They’d taunted him again and again, reminding him that his attempt at being a humanitarian had fallen flat—leaving a woman to suffer a horrible death at the hospital. When he’d learned of her passing, Quinn stopped planning an escape and resigned himself to his fate. Having her with him, in the warehouse, alive and well rekindled his quest for freedom, for her.

The rush of lust left him wishing he had a free hand to adjust himself. His cock throbbed. No other woman had ever made his body answer so quickly, so intensely with nothing more than a stare. It was as if everyone but her ceased to exist for a fraction of a second. His heart thumped madly, his sinewy body eager to be free of his restraints in order to go to her.

The beauty amongst the enemy.

The light in the darkness.

He blinked, coming to his senses. The angry mob around her, pressed in, knocking Carri to and fro before she disappeared under the sea of people. His body responded violently, hardening, going prone, ready for another fight.

“No!” he roared with the need to protect her at all costs.

BE SURE to check out the amazing authors who are part of Saturday Snippets! As always, special thanks to Lauren Dane for organizing this!

Shelley Munro
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Beth Williamson

Saturday Snippet: This is a new segment to my blog dreamed up by the lovely and talented Lauren Dane. She went above and beyond, gathering like minded authors who wanted to do some great cross promotions. Here is the fruit of her labor. Please be sure to visit the author with links provided in this post as well. They’ll be posting on their blogs too–same topic but they may handle it or interpret it differently.

Let’s get started.

This week’s topic is Defining Moments. Now, I’m sure I have many of these in my books that I could share with you all but I’d like to share a personal one.

I fell into writing. If you follow my blog or Raven Radio you know that I never set out to do this and that I was reluctant to do much with it in the beginning. After a good swift kick in the ass by one of my close friends, I subbed a manuscript.

I remember release day well. I was on pins and needles. I worried people would hate it, laugh at it, want to throw stones at me. The works. Reviews and emails started coming in and helped to set my mind at ease. I still wasn’t sure if this was "my calling" or something I was doing to just exercise my mind. It wasn’t until I received an email from a reader who read Daughter of Darkness and wanted to share that it helped her through a dark period in her life. That she’d reached her lowest point and due to circumstances I won’t pass on because they’re private, she just stopped wanting to do anything–get up, get dressed, anything. She told me that after reading the book she felt such a spark of spunk from the character that it really stuck with her, hitting home, helping her to take the steps needed to improve her situation. That was my defining moment. The moment I realized this isn’t just a job or a hobby. Its my life and I’m humbled and honored to this day that she and the others like her who have taken time out to email me to tell me that I made a difference.

To all of you who have emailed please know that YOU have all made a difference in my life too and that I’m thankful each and every day to have such amazing and supportive readers.

Thank you!

Please be sure to pay these other fantastic authors a visit today.
Lauren Dane
Cynthia Eden
Vivi Anna
SJ Day
Moira Rogers
Leah Braemel
Anya Bast
Viv Arend
Juliana Stone
Savannah Foley
Beth Williamson
Elisabeth Naughton
Michelle Pillow
Jaci Burton
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries