The town center on early mornings were cool from the harbor air, twisting the ends of shirts and skirts as people bustled about. Walking, waving, tapping canes, shaking hands, chatting with their peers, the Atlanteans easily intermingled amongst their duties—many of them craftsmen and saleswomen, who had booths to open and set up for the rich and powerful.
I liked to sit at the center’s fountain, large and gold-laced marble with a roaring splash that injected a steady cadence into my heartbeat.
Karamara sat a few degrees to the north of me, dressed up her blonde curls and tanned skin—the exact opposite of her natural dark hair and pale skin. She could not hide the silver flecks in her dark eyes.
My disguise matched hers to blend in with the humans.
“You’ve made these visits more often than is usual for you. It is like you know something that the rest of us don’t.”
Breath filled my lungs, pressing against the tight wrapping of my bodice. For a fate, she asked me such an obviously-leading question.
“I sense chaos. Tell me you don’t feel the oncoming retribution, the inevitable destruction looming catastrophe that few will escape.” I tucked the long hair behind my ear, twirling the bead in my earring.
“And so you’d prefer to spend your time here instead of preparing a defense? Planning the means for survival?” Karamara didn’t fidget the way a human did.
Chaos and discord didn’t mean always mean death and destruction, but this time it did. I’d succumbed to the irrevocability of our fall. All things must end.
#SoCS Prompt: “movie title.” Take the title of the last movie you watched (just the title, not the premise of the movie), and base your post on that title.
“The Hunger Games”
I’m cheating this week, but this reminded me of vampire politics, and well, I have the perfect excerpt for that, so here it is—Chapter Thirty-Five:
“Secrets. As exciting as yours are, I grow tired of how much effort it takes to unearth them and how loyal my people are to keeping yours from me.”
I blinked at Phea, too tired to generate the energy needed to sass her. Probably for the better.
My dry throat cracked my first words. I cleared away the rocks. “What did you learn this time?”
“Your question implies that you have more than one sizeable secret.”
“Depends on what you mean by sizeable.” Okay, maybe I maintained a little bit of sass.
Phea’s jaw worked, dark eyes narrowing like the barrel of a gun. “I suggest care and tact, renegade. Or what I decide to do with you and your baby will be affected by your attitude.”
Gaze unfocused, white blurred in an attempt to consume her dark shape. I’d been waiting for this. I knew Christopher would tell them. He needed to. I didn’t have the strength to offer it up myself.
“We tested your blood to confirm. I’m surprised by you. That you would put your child in such extreme peril to keep him to yourself. How long has it been since you’ve fed?”
Although they’d been keeping me in a room deprived of the sun or sky, Christopher had come to see me at least ten times already.
“Well, we cannot have that, so you will be receiving rations again. Of blood and food because I’m promised we can understand how this happened far better with a healthy baby than without him.” Her chilly hand found my forehead, smoothing away my bangs. “You must know, however, that this means new and improved forms of punishment. Feel free to save yourself the harshest of them by telling me everything right now.”
I wanted to tell her that she’d never get her hands on my baby.
I wanted it to be true.
But I could handle anything that didn’t harm him. Besides, I doubt she’d keep that promise if she knew one of them meant I’d killed her demented little knight. I’d held onto everything else for as long as possible. The extra powers were piddly to this.
Her hand waved beside the bed, not to me, and shuffling and scraping entered the room.
Feet slid around, and the acute scent of a human filled the space.
A middle-aged, black woman struggled to stand under Vincent’s grip. Sweat poured over her forehead and gathered under her cheeks.
“Your meal.” Phea presented her with a small flourish.
Vincent dumped the woman against the wall, bowed to Phea, and left.
The queen took the chair Christopher normally sat in, crossed a leg over the other and waited for me to feed—a stubborn mother watching over her insolent child.
“Who is she?”
“Does it matter?”
Of course it does. I’d said the same to James when he brought me my first meal. And it hadn’t mattered then. I was too hungry, too new to regulating myself that I drained him dry in seconds.
The woman smelled of cocoa butter, and she was half aware like this might all be some silly nightmare. How easily I could have lured her to me, but I went to her. Cold prickled into my toes.
She balanced against the wall on her own, and she nearly fell over when I touched her shoulder.
Calm. I pushed the idea into her. Her wobbling ceased, hands splayed against the white paint behind her.
This won’t hurt. Fingers braced against her neck, I tilted her throat to my throbbing fangs.
Her blood tasted of sweet cream, spreading through my cells the moment it touched my tongue. My body didn’t rage over it like when the Assetato kept me captive, but my throat and stomach rejoiced as I took my first swallow.
The dull, dead hum in the back of my brain faded, and my wits returned.
Nowhere near sated, I released the woman and let her slide to the concrete floor with a gentle euphoria. I’d heard my bite drugged my prey—worse than a normal vampire’s because of my imprint and tendency to glamour others with it.
“Saving the rest for later? I’ve given my word that you will receive regular feedings, you can finish your meal without fear that I will withhold more from you.” Phea gestured toward the woman, offering a freedom that she knew I didn’t want.
I crawled into bed and curled myself back where I’d started.
“I am far too aware of your high-road morality, as skewed and misguided as it is, but you cannot have another until you’ve finished your first. I suggest you not prolong it.” Phea stood, straightening her business skirt with a sly shimmy and left me to my newest torture.
Once the door closed, the woman on the floor slept with small, soft snores. I took the chance to get some genuine sleep, too, before none was offered to me.
I love getting together with other authors to offer our readers something big. Welp, this time, it’s a Kindle. Yup. Go get your hands on it.
Plus, so many of these books look like good reads.
Here’s an excerpt from mine, currently half price:
Chapter Nine
Kaia sat on the side of a bed as a small, dark-featured female sat in a chair across from her, her knees held together, reminding Kaia of Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Her round eyes condescending yet patient as she looked Kaia over. She took her time, carefully picking every bit of Kaia apart in silence. Fidgeting against her cuffs, adrenaline fought the post-anxiety-attack exhaustion.
The room glowed a gentle yellow, and the springs of the cheap bed creaked under her minute shifting. Finally, their gazes met.
“Two years ago, I watched my mate get his head torn off by a bear. His teeth…” Suppressed rage hastened her breath, “sliced right into his throat…and snapped his body in two. I didn’t believe it possible until that beast spat my lover’s head out and it rolled towards me.”
Unfettered lust for revenge brightened her eyes, making them grow impossibly wider.
Kaia couldn’t create the image this woman painted. “I’m sorry. Who are you? If you want my family’s money, they’ll give it, but we’re not excessively rich.”
“I do not want your silly money. The male who killed my lover is what I want.” Rigid, gloved fingers squeezed together in her lap, shaking as if she held a snarling beast on a chain. She took a breath and layered on composure. “And you may call me Scarlet.”
Quite fitting. But not her real name. Dev called Kaia, Little Red, from the moment they’d met, charming her with his flirtatious humor—the same humor the man captured with her had. They both seemed like such good men, in their presence and actions. Kaia had been wrong enough about the bear, and certainly, she needed no more proof that she was wrong about Sev.
“I can’t give you what you want.” Just the same, Dev didn’t deserve to die because he couldn’t love her enough. Not that she had much information for them, other than broken bits she kept sweeping away, left over from their relationship.
“You can and will by the time we’re through with you. Hopefully, before I lose my patience. I’d hate to mar that perfect skin of yours.” Scarlet straightened her gloves, up around her elbows like the thought of dirtying them with violence set her further on edge. “Why don’t I tell you the whole story? It might give you a smidgen of perspective.
“Two-and-a-half years ago, the bear made contact with Travelers, a mix of Irish and Asian decent, roaming the European and Asian landmass since long before they were called such, as they made their first pass through the Midwest. They’d formed a traveling circus when bartering fell out of favor. The bear weaseled his way into the group, coercing younger members to reform, like those Jehovah’s Witnesses.
“Half of the Travelers pledged to work with humans, to mean them no harm, to hide themselves in passivity. Unrest nestled its way into the pack, splitting families apart and breaking traditions.”
Scarlet pressed her hands into her knees, thumbing away invisible dirt. An ache started in Kaia’s shoulders, making her stretch in the break. This woman had real issues with change it seemed, something raised in Kaia that she had embraced whole-heartedly.
“When trust breaks down, peace becomes a scarce commodity and violence takes its place. Six months after that bear befriended the Travelers, the first death to their people occurred. A young feline murdered his father. Both sides were at each other’s throats, screaming and reaching for blood.
“Daniel, my lover, was called to come placate both sides, but we were not the only ones summoned. And neither side could compromise, especially not with that bear preaching about ethical treatment and ultimate elimination. He killed so many of us. And so many children died.” Scarlet shook her head, bringing her gloved finger to catch a tear before it smeared her mascara. Blinking it away, she took a breath and settled her gaze to her lap. After a few silent moments, she worked at peeling her right glove down her arm, pulling it from her fingertips to reveal dipped and discolored flesh, red and raw looking, mangled like a horse’s leg after a cougar attack. Although her arm healed, it didn’t match the rest of her dark, creamy skin. “When he was done with my Daniel, he tried to take my arm, too. Your bear did this to me.”
The glove wrinkled in her hand, and she slammed her fist into her thigh, her voice soft and scary, whispering a curse. Her outburst subdued, and Scarlet slid the glove back in place. “So, tell me, Little Red, when is the last time you talked to your sweet Devere?”
“I haven’t talked to him since he broke my heart. Why would I want to?” Did they expect her to merely give up the man she loved? This woman needed to do more than tell her a story skewed by the hatred of equality and cooperation with humans. Dev didn’t tell her a lot about what he was and what he did, but Kaia learned enough by observation. And this Scarlet, as the bear would put it, wouldn’t be alive if he wanted her dead. He had a strict no women or children rule unless he had no other choice.
“Andre.” Scarlet rose a hand, signaling Ponytail forward to grab Kaia by the arm and pull her off the small bed to a corner of the room where a tub sat, filled with water.
Andre grabbed the mass of her hair and forced her to her knees in front of it. “We don’t take kindly to lies, Little Red.”
Fear grabbed Kaia’s heart as he forced her face into the water, making her struggle to hold her breath, her body jerking against the side of the tub, unable to lift herself. Burning lungs threatened to pull in the water as she came free to breathe. Andre dropped his sour face beside hers. She ate the air.
“You called him after I chased you. Predictable.” He gave her a deviant grin before pushing her face back into the cold water.
I have been on journey with my new novel, drafting it faster than I’ve ever completed one before—five months from start to finish. A totally mind-blowing feat for me.
Add to this, the culmination of rebranding over the last few years has sent me to a cover artist to create new covers for the series. We started with book four, this book—BLOOD PHOENIX: INFERNO—and I am so SO happy to share it.
Big thanks to Christian from Covers by Christian. Not only was he patient with my pickiness, he churned out a cover that fits the book so well.
The angst.
The magick.
The wear from breaking my main character, Ria.
Okay, let me reign myself in. If I get myself too excited, I’m going to reveal too much, but I do want backdrop the cover a little bit with one small detail.
Those marks on her back are the catalyst to her next stage in the paranormal evolution, shoving her into a transformation that will take hold before the end of book five (the final chapter of Ria’s story).
All right, no more belaboring the point of this post. Here’s the book’s official blurb and the cover!
Drawing the Scarlet Queen to central New York’s training grounds, Ria’s remarkable blood triggers negotiations between two kingdoms.
Ria questions her own humanity when she finds herself aligned with Phea, the vampire queen—a woman who’s tortured her and her friends for months.
As all of her secrets unravel around her, Ria is forced to conform or sacrifice the people she loves.
If she doesn’t find a way to break their alliance, the balance of the universe will plunge deeper into chaos, and no one will be safe.
With a sprinkling of Twilight, a bite of Anita Blake, and a smattering of satirical Buffy the Vampire Slayer, you won’t want to miss this dark and witty vampire series.
Now, I can’t help myself! Here’s the first two chapters of the new installment, coming this November. And I’ll be linking the official book trailer below.
Chapter One
Gene burst into my room and jarred me upright in my bed. Nausea burrowed into my gut, finding its old nesting hole to roll around in. Oh god. I was going to be sick again.
“Get dressed. We’re expected in the clearing.” He pulled the sheets back to hurry me along.
“What’s going on?”
The shift to get out of bed set off warning bells, and my head sank between my knees.
“Another renegade.”
My esophagus shrank.
I bolted to the bathroom, kicking the door closed as I bent over the toilet and puked. This has been my routine for the last few weeks. Gene was unhappy to admit that it might contribute to my lack of faerie blood, but he gladly filled in the gaps in my needs as he could.
“We do not have time—”
I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. “Pull out something for me to wear. I won’t be long.”
Another wave trampled me.
My stomach churned out more bile.
I rinsed and waited.
Twice was my pattern, but some days…so I lingered.
Five deep breaths, and I opened the door to a dress.
“Come on. Are you kidding me?”
“We do not have time.”
Ugh. I snatched it and threw it over my head, snagging the heels that would sink into the grass in the clearing. Gene both ushered and supported me as I slipped into the shoes on our way out of the apartment door.
“I didn’t know James was looking for anyone.” Fidgeting with the dress top, the line didn’t match the sports bra I wore beneath it.
“He’s not the only one with the job.”
We stood around the semi-circle as Phea strode across the lawn, waiting in her usual spot across from the pathway onto the grounds, dressed like the true queen she was. Powerful. Elegant. Elevated.
She took up the entire clearing with her presence.
Not that long ago, I tramped through that foliage to face the queen of the vampires and ended the evening with a stake beside my heart, dying, and claimed by a man I didn’t know—the one I’d grown reliant on, connected to, comfortable with. I suppressed the urge to reach for his hand now.
The brush rustled, and Vincent stepped through—all doom and danger—then Julia appeared.
That couldn’t be.
Julia was dead.
Dead-dead.
Set-herself-on-fire dead.
The blonde hair shimmered, and Julia vanished. In her place stood the small blonde woman I’d seen in Vincent’s memories. A patch of hair buzzed around her ear, a gold piece holding her hair in place to expose it, and her rainbow eyes glowed with the kind of power that seemed regal.
Not what I expected out of a renegade.
Nor was the corset covering her abundant dress.
Phea’s surprise shifted her unnaturally, like when a cat tilted its head on its side but not nearly as dramatic. Scarlet stood from her dais on the porch behind our queen—a queen of her own. Bloody, they said. The Scarlet Queen.
“May I present Nani, Maka Nani, noble faerie of the underwater mound.” Vincent presented her in the same way James, my maker, presented me to Phea. An offering.
And that’s exactly what she was.
“Oh, Commander, how naughty you’ve been.”
His bow held an intimacy that came from a reformed renegade. One that made her third in command so loyal to her. Nani, the new vampire, fell into a graceful and practiced curtsy without buckling under fear.
Certainly not a normal renegade.
Scarlet’s obvious interest countered her usual demeanor, wicked and cold—colder than Phea, and it seemed to spark a challenge between the two, given the recent trend of sacrifices they paraded through the grounds.
“She is my claim, Your Majesty.”
“General.” Phea’s demand hung in the air, and James dragged a bent over T that once chained him in place to punish him for my vampirism. Now, he thrust the sharpened end into the ground as Vincent stepped forward to take it. “We have a punishment to dole out, and if your fae wants to be tested as yours, she will have to watch and wait through it before she undergoes her own trials.”
“She’s strong enough.”
Nani shifted behind him, but Vincent kept his gaze on our queen as he efficiently disrobed and braced himself within the metal cuffs at the ends of the T-top.
It was more than I wanted to see of him, looking over James instead in his suit and newly shortened hair. He stood as her soldier with a large, wooden box in hand.
Phea flicked her wrist, and the shackles snapped around Vincent’s.
James presented her whip.
She touched the scar on his chin before taking the weapon and slashing it across the grass, a snake promising to strike.
Feet jarred from under him, Vincent took the weight in his shoulders, but instead of the devoted bliss he often aimed at our queen, he seemed to find solace in his new claim.
Nani’s hands clenched the puffy fabric of her skirt, but she maintained her decorum. Like a princess.
Man, I really didn’t want to witness this again. I barely endured it when she’d done this to James. Well, if you could call it that. Felix taunted me right in the middle of this group while she split James’s skin open. Vincent held me as Felix and Gene fought. I hadn’t seen so much of the act.
Felix, our queen’s pet, was gone now, too.
Did Phea think he was out on a renegade hunt? That the new vampires I’d killed and sent off with the Assetatomerely ran off or got themselves killed? She had to suspect me.
I’d stabbed him in the heart after all. Like they’d forced me to do to Harris.
Too many deaths under my belt in too few weeks.
Witchet-crack.
The whip struck flesh, breaking the sound barrier and bringing me back from the neurotic melancholy I’d grown too used to sulking in.
The musky scent of his blood tapped my heartbeat in my fangs and curdled my insides.
Each strike uncovered the madness in Phea’s eyes—one I didn’t see when she’d done this to James—then, I hadn’t exactly been watching her.
Her whip slid around her, leaving traces of blood across her dark clothes.
And they referred to Scarlet the bloody queen?
I traced the lines of Gene’s jacket with my gaze, the way his hands folded together in front of him, the clean press along the creases, the swoop of his dark hair styled in almond oil. The scent calmed me from here. My attention must have burned his skin because his shoulders rolled, and he tipped his face my way to spare a glance.
I forced a smile to say I was okay. Just trying to not really pay attention over here.
Witchet-crack.
I flinched, working on my breath. It didn’t help, funneling more of Vincent’s musky blood into my sinuses. I could practically taste him.
James shifted on the other side of the circle, far enough to keep clear of the gore. With his expensive taste, I understood why.
The new persona he’d taken on after he changed me and brought me here didn’t fit him like his suit did. Standing at ease, clasped arms behind him exaggerated his shoulders’ width.
He met my gaze between the full-fledged vampires I stood behind. The planes of his face were blank, but amusement twinkled in the blackness of his eyes; beyond the gruesome display he found humor in my rushed attire. At least, that’s what the trajectory of his examination suggested.
I tugged at the clingy fabric, the static twisting it between my thighs.
Did a corner of his mouth quirk?
Witchet-crack.
I jerked and shifted again, aware of someone else watching me.
Torture consumed Phea, Nani, and most of those gathered, but not Scarlet. No, I seemed to fascinate her. As much as the thought wormed its way down my spine and made me squirm, it had been this way since Tahe and I returned from the attack at the mall. For a while, I assumed she sensed Boden on me in some way, but I didn’t know if fae possessed that kind of discernment.
Wishful thinking kept me from examining this too closely.
Maybe she got wind of my more-than-inflated reputation.
It’s not like I held a candle to either queen.
But those too-round eyes, that demeanor, those gloved hands…all unsettled me.
Might be the stories and gossip Tahe whispered in my ear when we went into town to feed.
Scarlet smiled at me, manipulative and sweet.
Had this been a few weeks ago, I might have reached for Gene’s hand to stabilize my emotions and my abilities, but my mentor has put in the work with me, gotten me to put in the work, too, and I had control. At least in times like this.
Put me against her directly, however, and I’d likely be singing a different story.
Scarlet paced on the dais behind the performance, giving her an excellent view of the gory bits—something she enjoyed—but her head tilted, remaining privy to my every move.
Witchet-crack.
Shaking my head, I tuned her out and rubbed the scar on my chest. It didn’t dull the burning reminder of how the wood felt as it slammed between my ribs.
Witchet-crack.
Damned glad this wasn’t my problem.
Chapter Two
Gene escorted me to his apartment in the Victorian house. I sank into his comfy, leather couch, holding my middle and urging my body to settle while he swept the living room, partial kitchen, and bedroom before settling in front of me.
“Coffee or blood?”
“What?” Queasiness curdled deeper.
“For your stomach, which would you prefer, coffee or blood?”
My choices warred with each other, simultaneously appetizing and revolting. I couldn’t decide, so I leaned into his shoulder instead.
Warmth engulfed my sides and back as his hand generated circles.
One of our cycles. Me queasy or puking. Him unsure what to do for me. We’d already discussed the possibilities of needing fae blood, and as sick as I was of being ill, I didn’t want to bring up that discussion again. There was no point to it.
The vanilla, honey, and almond scent of him took the edge off, so we spent a lot of time in close proximity, especially in the mornings when it was worst.
That meant a lot of sleepovers and cuddling.
Intimacy bloomed between us, and I struggled with it.
It sent us in another routine of warm, cold, hot, too hot, cold, and around again.
Demanding and pronounced taps struck his front door, pulling us apart.
Visitors made a habit of separating us. Unannounced and dangerous.
Gene paused to brush my bangs from my face and drop a kiss on my mouth before he helped me upright. Whoever showed up probably meant to gain something from me—an upper hand, information, fear. Being tired and aware of it didn’t keep it from happening.
I braced myself behind him, peeking from behind his shoulders.
He opened the door to Scarlet.
That prickling I used to get when Felix’s power crawled over my skin returned, but the threat was far more perilous.
A tug at her gloves and a brief touch to her pearls, Scarlet nodded to acknowledge us both. “Do I get the offer of coffee or blood? I almost always take blood, whether offered or not. Almost.”
The quirk of her mouth disturbed me.
Gene’s shoulders tightened under his suit jacket.
“I find it strange. You two have retired here five of seven nights this week.”
“I do not see how our nightly routine or where we retire is of interest to you or how it is any of your business.”
A shift in her stance read offense. “I heard you were one to follow rules and protocol, and here I am still standing in the hallway like some kind of beggar.”
Scarlet didn’t force her way in the way Felix or Vincent might. Instead, she smoothed down the fabric of her bodice and sighed. “You think just because I lost the ability to flay someone with my bare hands keeps me from enjoying the use of a blade? That I don’t have any other abilities? It was easy enough to gain power with it, but keeping influence and position brought new challenges. Different attention. More subtly. I have a new way of dealing with obstacles now.”
“How’s that?” Gene moved to block me once more.
“Why, I deal in secrets. And you’re teeming in them.” Her gaze found me anyways. “The both of you are.”
Gene and I exchanged a look, clearly dismissing me from the room. I didn’t want to leave him there alone with her, but I’d learned to trust him.
“I didn’t say she could leave.”
“You’re not our queen, and etiquette says you’ll deal with me as our hierarchy dictates.”
“It may be in your best interests not to send me after her when you’re not present, especially since she enjoys spending so much time with that pack of humans. Hierarchy would not serve her well then.”
I met her gaze fully. A challenge to her authority.
Even though I am not the highest amongst them, depending on who was present, they were powerless against her, and she’d force me to break protocol anyways.
My hand braced Gene’s elbow. He broke his protective barrier between us.
“So, what do you want from me? The more specific you can be, the better,” I said.
Her lips and brows quirked. “I see why you tend to conduct the meetings, but I am not surprised. Her attitude proceeds her. Generating a mythos of her own, spreading wide, and once it’s penetrated too far, you’ll not be able to contain or control it.”
I fought not to roll my eyes. Didn’t I say to be specific?
“And?”
“Ria.” Gene gave me a shot of magick to chide me.
I crossed my arms and waited.
Scarlet met my challenge with a practiced ease. “Your secrets, renegade. I want your secrets.”
A deep breath jangled her pearls, and she wiped her hands down her bodice once more.
My fingers tightened around my biceps. She’d have to wait in line.
“Not right this moment, mind you, my reputation doesn’t include my sense of patience, but I know when to utilize it if I must.” A few curious blinks, and she acknowledged us both individually before turning from the door. “Not forever, though.”
Adrenaline shook my hands and shoulders, so I gripped myself harder as Gene closed the door.
“You shouldn’t goad her. She might not be our queen, but she has enough power to slaughter scores of her own people and ours.”
“I know.”
“It’s like you have a death wish.”
“I don’t.”
“Why do you challenge her then?”
“Because she’s the epitome of authority, and you know how I am with that.”
Gene mimicked my stance, arms folding across his chest. “Quite intimately, but I do not find that to be an adequate answer.”
A tilt of my head shifted his weight in response. His tendency to lecture me came from a good place, so I sighed.
“How about because I’m sick of every other creature looking at me like an anomaly, like my secrets are the answer to whatever power struggle they’re entangled in, like I’m some prize to cash in on. I am a person. Not property—”
Gene cleared his throat, reminding me that I wasn’t quite right. He didn’t need to, but that didn’t mean I agreed with how this society pinned me as such.
“—to be used as some type of magickal talisman. I just want to be left alone.”
“I do not disagree with you, but you will have to give up the pipedream. Reality is ruthless, and the sooner you understand that, the safer I can keep you.”
Another dose of adrenaline sucker punched me right where I was sensitive. My arms unfolded, and I cradled myself for the jog to the bathroom.
I cursed life as an immortal the entire time. How could I be this sick as a vampire?
I missed how easily Boden’s touch tended to soothe this pain.
Gene came in after, a glass of water at the ready.
Thanking him, I swished and spat before I flushed.
“Coffee or blood?”
Exasperated, I couldn’t refrain from the eye roll. “Coffee.”
And the trailer! I’m so excited for this book, y’all.
For the festivities, here’s an entire chapter from the novel.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Crazy. Not Stupid.
Uncle Henry insisted on driving me the two minutes to school as a show of authority in taking on my father’s parental role. In fact, he escorted me on campus and to detention to meet Adam.
Luckily, or maybe out of my uncle’s design, we arrived first. When they shook hands, my uncle morphed into a no-nonsense-FBI-dad, and I swear he grew two inches taller like he’d had to intimidate paranormal creatures as a career. Maybe towering over criminals felt the same to him.
And maybe, he’d teach me that someday.
Adam didn’t skip a beat as I took the front left corner desk by the window.
“I worry about the people your niece associates with. She has quite the potential to make a good REP agent, but she has to apply herself instead of being distracted by the nonsense.”
I walked back to Uncle Henry, who held my extra bag of books—I stuffed my backpack with snacks and divided my research into two shopping totes that wouldn’t see a vegetable for quite some time. I smiled up at him as I retrieved it silently from his grip and returned to my seat.
“She’s a good kid. I don’t expect she’ll give you much trouble. And the Walkers are good people, even if their son likes fireworks.”
The corner of Adam’s mouth twinged.
Mine, too. I should have figured my uncle knew everyone in town at least to some degree, but I hadn’t thought about it.
“Yes. Unfortunately, the destruction in one of our labs was a bit more extensive than some loud bangs and flashes of light. Dragons are not toys.”
“Then I hope the school isn’t handing them out indiscriminately.”
Humor shifted Adam’s stance, seeing the family resemblance in the way Uncle Henry defended me without denying my involvement in the Moon debacle.
“I wouldn’t know. Her instincts to run toward danger rather than from it is commendable.” Wow, did he just compliment me? “But until she’s had the proper training, we need to reinforce her need to seek out the proper authorities instead of rushing in.”
Damn. That hit an FBI nerve. Too many stories about not being prepared and getting myself killed echoed in the training sessions he’d run me through.
“We can agree on that,” Uncle Henry said as another student entered detention—totally his cue to stop before he embarrassed me. “You let me know what she needs work on, and I’ll be sure she has the practice.”
With a handshake, my guardian disappeared, and I dropped my head to my things before Adam could catch my attention and likely lecture me for that exchange.
A bag clattered on the floor catty-corner to me and a paper cup with lid scraped the top of my desk. Evan dropped into a desk with a cardboard cup holder and a second drink.
“You moving in?”
Radiating my embarrassment, I tucked the scarf more tightly around my ears. “If I have to be stuck here, I may as well make it a productive time.”
“Takes the fun out of getting detention.” The delinquent look Evan shot Adam’s way knotted my stomach. I did not want to get caught in the middle of whatever feud they had. At least not any more than I already was.
I shook my head and sipped the coffee he’d brought me—sweet but not too sweet, with milk but dark. Good, but not enough to have me bowing to his observational skills yet because the excitement in Evan’s smile terrified me as my mentor looked our way.
I yanked the first book from my bag and did my best to ignore the igniting of tension between them. Leave. Me. Out of it. I sighed into my history reading, mind growing numb and derailing into the little research I completed before Uncle Henry switched me to homework. He seemed proud of the projects I’d put together, but I was on punishment once I finally caved and told him about earning Saturday detention.
He expected me to clean the house this weekend on top of it. I needed to focus so I could get everything done.
Ancient History consisted of a list of names and abilities and dates, which seemed like it would be interesting, cataloguing the variations of different species over a period of time, but it grew tedious rather quickly. One leader clashed with another and had greed motivating them so that each generation had their own wars to fight. Family lineages flourished and died, and I really couldn’t care less.
After an hour, I had my scribbled notes organized to be typed for my chapter response and drained the remnants of my cold coffee. Stretching free of the heavy concentration and pure determination, I jolted at the sight of a dozen precise paper footballs lined up on Evan’s desk. He bent a fresh piece and creased it carefully with the back of his thumb.
Heat rising with my pulse. This was not going to be good. If Evan started a war in here, I was barricading myself in the back and waiting for the fallout.
Both of them seemed so calm and calculating. Adam scratching out notes on a pad as he scanned a book—somehow, he looked right doing it, which I never imagined before. He seemed more of the hands-on, teach-from-experience type.
I grabbed a couple snack cakes from my backpack and tossed one at Evan, who glared at me. “Before your sugar dips and you do something stupid.”
He scoffed like I’d offended him. “Crazy, maybe. Never stupid.”
Shifting in my seat, the coffee hit my bladder, but I didn’t want to interrupt the glare-a-thon. A few minutes more proved this an impossible task. I slipped from my seat and rattled off, “potty break,” on my way out the door.
“Hey. Where do you think you’re going?”
“Bathroom.”
“You need permission to leave the room.”
“Try to stop me, and we’ll both get wet.”
Blonde brows shot high on his forehead, and Evan grinned as I slipped out the door.
Relieved, I returned to Evan examining his paper footballs between two fingers, clearly aligning them with Adam’s desk. He might say crazy, but what he was obviously planning seemed so far into stupidity territory, the natives might think him one of them.
I nearly finished reading for Miss Oscar when the commotion started.
Evan set a white oval stone on his desk, lining it up with painstaking precision. Once satisfied, Evan took his first football, aimed it toward his rock, and flicked with a thumb and forefinger.
Sparks sprayed as the paper met the stone and shot the football into the books on Adam’s desk. They toppled back onto the floor.
Evan armed another, twisting his stone a hair, letting loose, and scattering Adam’s papers in a big puff.
The cold, death in my mentor’s gaze froze me to my seat but didn’t faze Evan. They each moved at alternating speed, Evan fast and Adam slow. Was that an effect of the magic he used to spring his weapons with such velocity?
Three more hit Adam across the chest, but the one spinning for the center of his forehead stopped, hovering in the air.
Adam snatched it, and Evan changed strategy.
The rampage of paper flung around the room, and the two other detentionees ducked under their desks.
Once Evan was out of ammo, he grinned, stretched, and hopped his desk to sprint out of the door.
Fury seethed from my mentor, teeth grit as his gaze followed my lab partner.
Then he stuck me in my seat with it before I knew I’d stood.
Everything fluttered and snapped back into place like nothing had happened, and Adam stomped out of the room after Evan.
After a few minutes, I stopped waiting for them to come back and set to work. They’d either explode back into the room or they wouldn’t, and I was sick of staring at the door in anticipation.
With most of my homework complete, except for the exercises Adam assigned in our mentorship, I tackled my bag of research fromhome. I spread them out around me like Uncle Henry; that was what I needed now—here, sitting in this tiny desk. A serious table might suffice, but a nook would work better.
The only real space was by Adam’s desk and the whiteboard. Instead, I pushed the desks around me, settled against the wall under a window and fanned my stuff onto the floor.
Halfway through my organization process, Evan returned, closing the door, marking it with white chalk, and stuffing small shards of stone between the seams around it. His markings spread to the wall and floor as Adam’s face appeared in the small, rectangular window.
With a shake, the lock seemed to fuel the flames in his blue eyes. His fist rattled the door.
“Uh uh uh,” Evan said, shaking his head. “Remember your duty to protect school property.”
Of course.
I shook my head and ducked into my project.
Evan dropped a stone and markings around the other windows before he squatted across the two layers of notes as I started a third.
“Falling down the rabbit hole, I see. What’s all this?”
“Research.” I spared him an annoyed glance and peeked at Adam making sparks of his own on the other side of the door.
I laid more papers out, and Evan scanned my organized chaos.
“What have you found?”
“Well, nothing yet, but there’s something here.”
“Because you feel it.”
“If you’re not going to help, don’t disturb me.”
I finished spreading my printouts and copies. After a minute, Evan shifted my stack and crawled into the vortex with me.
“You’ve got two different projects here.” He pointed first to my preliminary findings on the three missing students. “Not much in the way of leads there, but what’s that new search you’re doing? The local book by that girl who went feral?”
The mockery in his voice stung, jabbing me a little in the heart.
Evan flipped through my copy with a chuckle. “Been busy with your notes, I see.”
I snatched the book from his hands with a menacing glare and put it back beside me.
“Tell me you’re not genuinely studying Locating Lucifer’s Lair as evidence.”
“I don’t know what I’m studying it as, but there’s something beyond the surface of it.”
“I didn’t take you as a Lucifer-chaser.”
Fumes flared my nostrils.
Adam tapped the window with a long and black stick.
“Lucifer’s my mother,” I said, half under my breath.
“And you’ve never met her.” The softness of his voice surprised me. “Always had a feeling that angel’s kindness and defense of humanity made her a woman.”
“That kindness hasn’t touched me yet.”
His elbow found my knee. “I’ve never really met my parents either.”
“Neither of them?”
A heartbeat of a pause.
“Nope. I was too young. Adopted.”
“So, you’ve got missing pieces, too.”
Evan nodded and took another look around my notes—this time with a bit more contemplation.
Patterns. I needed patterns.
Too many pieces were missing.
I pulled out my phone and logged into my different social accounts, searching for the popular kids.
Too many with the same name and no visual reference. I sighed and tapped Evan for my snack bag, pulling out an apple. I offered him one.
“I’ll take another snack cake if you’ve got one.”
“Do you run on sugar?” I tossed him one.
“And meat.”
“Right.”
I tried to think without thinking.
The two leads weren’t likely connected through anything other than the circumstance of this paranormal town. I mean, how probable would it be for these three to be connected with my mom and the mines?
Since Belle’s tale was already a cold case, I focused on my fellow students.
“What do you know about fey?”
“Matriarch. Big into royalty. Tricksters. Couldn’t care less about human affairs. Mild powers.”
That resembled the sirens quite a bit. “Are they competitive?”
“With other fey, but they’re superiority and pride keep them from challenging other creatures unless threatened.”
“Doesn’t sound smart to me, challenging a hive.”
“It’s not.”
“What about demis? There’s more than one kind, which one is Lucinda?”
“Demon. Most common since they like to sleep around with humans and the DNA overlaps better than gods or angels.”
“Aren’t demons and angels really similar?”
Evan shifted again, shrugging his shoulder and picking some lint off his jeans. “Yes and no. Angels are divinely made. Demons were human once.”
“Oh.”
“If you’re looking for a link between the threesome, they’re all hot-tempered tricksters that use temptation and threats to achieve their goals. Besides, they’re rich kids who live on the outskirts of town. Powerful parents and families rooted into the foundation of our little Saint Siena.”
I tapped at my phone again and showed Evan. “Show me who is who so I can research in other ways. Being the new girl has major drawbacks.”
“Like all of your friends are hundreds of miles away.”
Grief slumped through me again. “Exactly. Who’s who?”
He tapped the first, Lucinda. No friending option, so I followed what little they left public.
Katie next, same sparse public profile. I followed.
Jeremy last. Followed.
Shit. I bet Evan wasn’t friends with any of them with the way he stomped through the world.
Maybe Starr wouldn’t mind a little stalking and gossip. I sent her a quick text.
Got a mini-almost-friends favor. How good are you at cyber stalking?
“Thanks. We’ll see how much I can dig. At least, now, I’ve seen their faces. Class with two of them.” Both in English.
“Count your blessings that you didn’t grow up with the three.” He grumbled incoherently. “And I’m the one with community service.”
“Torrid past?”
Caveman harrumphed.
The window behind us rattled, and Adam levitated there, throwing more magic at it.
“He’s going to murder you when detention is over. We have to leave sometime.”
Evan grinned back up at Adam like he had a death wish. “He has to catch me first.”
I’ve got some serious skill. Who’s your target?
Please, don’t be besties with these three. I need an unbiased third party with some actual interest. I sent her the names.
Set your sights high, girl. What are you looking for?
What was I looking for? Basic info, patterns, routines, outliers…
Everything. Info-gathering mission.
Full-blown stalker-mode, up and running. Hit you back when I’m through.
Relief. Wheels turning. Maybe I’d solve this before the end of the semester. Hopefully, no one else went crazy before then.
“So, are you going to tell me about this feud you have going, or are you going to keep me from the middle of it from now on?”
“It goes back a long way. I haven’t seen him in years. Feels good.”
“Shooting him with paper footballs.”
Evan poked his lip ring. “Yup.”
“Why do I feel like I’m going to have to reveal a deep dark secret to hear this story?”
A shrug.
“Put something into the ether like that, and you’ll have to own up to it.”
“Maybe.” I gathered my knees in my arms. “But not today.”
No. Today, I would be wracking my brain for memories of English class. For Katie and Jeremy. I haven’t seen them in what seemed like weeks; however, my lack of a real life merged school together into one mass of class and homework and lonely nights at home.
I love, love, love, LOVE these characters. Devere and Kaia have been romping around in my head for more than a decade, and they have such a fun creation, stemmed from roleplaying in a Dark Hunters’ group on facebook.
And now, I’ve finally rendered the budding of their love story.
Their story spans further than this, the first, or the LOVING RED saga as a whole. You can’t see me, but I’m rubbing my hands together here, excited about how these guys are going to pop back up in the end of INFERNO and throughout RESSURECTION, the fifth and final book in the BLOOD PHOENIX saga.
I don’t want to belabor the point. These guys have chemistry.
So, here’s a look at the first chapter of LITTLE RED AND THE SURLY BEAR. Be sure to join me over the next twenty-four hours for some book-related giveaways with my launch party, starting at 2PM Central. Come chat and nab some free stuff!
But now, let’s get into story:
Home sweet home. The iron and wood of the bar were a welcome sight. Glass bottles stacked behind the bartenders, and Maddy rang the bell at the pick-up window connecting to the kitchen, her famous stew billowing steam from the ceramic bowl.
I hefted my duffle bag around my shoulder, squeezing through the filled tables and nodding at the staff—most of them weary bosex in need of asylum and a few new humans that seemed to shrink under the breadth of my chest and towering height. I acknowledged them, foregoing the smile.
My mission weighed too heavily on me to drum up the pretense, mask already cracking under the pressure of earning the Travelers’ trust. Even the females were leery of me, although less so than the men, who didn’t like my toeing their territory, especially the vampires. A misled assumption that I wanted one their women.
I shook it off, compartmentalizing, and swung into the kitchen to show Maddy my face before I disappeared upstairs. She’d mount my head on the wall if I snuck off without saying hello.
“You’re back.” Maddy’s smile lit up the stark kitchen, my nephew banging around the metal bowls to coat the fried chicken. “Have they been feeding you? Theo, make your uncle a bowl of stew to take with him.”
“I can feed myself just fine.” Although, I struggled to find the time away from the crew to find safer options as I wormed into their cliques. The taste of human flesh wasn’t my favorite, but I’d scavenged it a few times as a cub when I was desperate.
A few of the younger bosex gravitated my way as I ate grilled animals and human snacks. The older crew called me a hipster or herbivore or hippie, but the plan wasn’t to convert them all, just their young, and the boys saw in me a lot of what they wanted as a man. Mostly, I was good with the ladies, and their hormones controlled much of their thoughts, but that was why the Assetato sent me to infiltrate the group.
My nephew handed me a box with stew and enough bread to last me the evening, and I nodded him my approval.
“Don’t hide away all night. We have a surprise performance from some locals that you wouldn’t want to miss, and I could use you at the door.” Maddy pinned me with her expert mothering look, one she practiced on me throughout our childhood before she ever became a mother. It didn’t matter how many times I told her that she was a scant few minutes older than me; she claimed older sibling status and waved it in my face like a dude with a big dick.
I might have gone through a phase. Sue me.
“I’ll be back down by eight.”
“Good.” She shooed me away to my apartment above the bar.
It was small, but I didn’t need much, and I wanted to leave the townhouse apartments to the strays that came in need of shelter. They were big enough for full families, which swung through from time to time, but we’d only filled one room at the moment—Javier, who quickly became a cornerstone of our staff after he’d been chased out of his last pack for challenging the alpha and losing. It happened more often than most thought.
The stew settled the undercurrent of nerves left over from touring, and I fell into my old routine without much thought: shaving, showering, and cleaning up before strapping on jeans and a tight tee to flex my arms at the ladies. My smile was the secret weapon, and I worked it to pay the bills.
Javier uncapped a local brew and slid the bottle to me as I stepped behind the bar.
“Things been quiet the last few weeks?”
“Nothing more than a few drunks who didn’t want to pay their tabs. Your sister’s stew made for a few sloths. Pretty normal, I’d say.”
Dinner patrons shifted to late night drinks and pool hounds.
But the boys moved the tables around the stage where bands set up on weekends, and the scent of patchouli, orange, and baby powder mixed with the fog from our machine. I leaned against the frame by the front door, arms across my chest as I waited for whatever performance Maddy seemed excited about.
A few pretty little things showed me their IDs, wiggling their curves and batting lashes at me. I gave them a wink as they leaned against the long, sleek bar, giggling with each other and ogling the other shifters in the place. Maddy did a good job of maintaining a strong male presence for the vacationers and girls in bikinis, and as the lone female working, I was glad she stayed behind the order window, so I wouldn’t have to crack more skulls than necessary.
Smoke billowed out from the sides of the stage as the main room’s lights dimmed, narrowing into a spotlight. Drums beat low and steady, a tribal rhythm that had a few girls rocking with it.
Four women stepped onto the stage, swaying and shimmying with the beat. Their sparkling bangles swung over their bare mid-drifts and hips, arms raising above their heads to elongate their movements.
A fifth stepped out behind them as the rest moved off the stage to circle the floor.
Her scent warped the space, narrowing it as her pale skin glowed in the stage lights, a light shimmer to her skin barely noticeable with her hips moving in slow, controlled spirals. Her stomach rolled as her body moved in full undulations. The veil over half of her face made her green eyes brighter, like the moss-covered Scottish Highlands.
Fingers perfectly posed, this woman’s movements were more elegant, and she took up the entire stage, the four on the floor mimicking her—none of them poor dancers, but none of them outshone their companion.
As they bowed forward, she released her hair, and red swept down to her shoulders. Her body arced, her chest circled, and the jiggle of her legs bloomed the taste of her on the air. How I smelled her over everything else, orange and patchouli, almost stepped me from my post. Hands brought me to her hips as she gyrated, and I wanted them against me.
Stepping down with her fellow dancers, they swirled in unison, and her veil disappeared to reveal her red-painted mouth. Those mossy eyes performing their own dance through the crowd. When her gaze landed on me, a vacuum sucked the air from the room, and she spun my direction.
Releasing another veil from her hip, her steps whirled her toward me. Thin fabric circled my neck as her bangles pressed into my stomach, and she winked wickedly before fluttering back to her group.
The fun I could have with her evident in the way she smiled, in the vibrations of her limbs, in the control of her rapid movements.
Skirts twirled, jingling matching the drums as the last strains of music died.
The little redhead peered over her shoulder, and I rubbed her token between my fingers.
She vanished behind the curtains on the side of the stage, another song starting and a new group spinning out to perform.
I hit up Javier for another beer, his grin matching the rumbling deep inside me—one that I’d ignored in the field, that needed soothed. The brew did nothing to dim it or the scent of her on the fabric as I tucked it into my pocket, but it sprouted again as the real thing sauntered back into the room in jeans and a dark tee, the shimmer still glued to her skin.
Another patron waited for me at the entrance, her fingers lingering on my arm as I returned her ID.
The redhead saddled up to the bar, poised at the end a few feet from the door where her scent overpowered me. Decidedly human but intoxicating, I appreciated the way her back arched as she ordered a drink, and I flagged the bartender to put it on my tab.
She turned to admire me. Yeah, I know I’m full of it, but that’s the best way to describe the look in her eyes. “Thanks.”
I sent her a deadly wink and enjoyed the pink brushing her cheeks.
“You must be Maddy’s younger brother.”
I snorted. “Yeah, by two-and-a-half minutes.”
“Twins. Makes sense. She worries about you.”
I draped an arm over the back of the empty hostess stand. “Does she? I didn’t realize she talked about me so much.”
A slender shoulder shrug, bouncing her hair as she drew a swig from her own beer. “Maybe it’s just me. We’re nearing friendship territory. Girls night and all.”
“It’s likely just you, little red. My sister isn’t a frilly type.”
The quirk of her mouth sweetened her scent. “Neither am I.”
“Must be why she confides in you then.”
“Oh, you don’t think she talks about you every chance she gets?”
“Not unless she wants me locked in a cell.”
“Are you telling me you’re as dangerous as you look?” She swiveled on the stool, crossing her legs and swinging her beer between her fingers. Her lips puckered around the tip of the bottle, her thumb running along the moisture on the neck.
A fire rumbled in my gut as I thought of a few things I’d like her to do with her mouth.
“Depends on how dangerous you think I look, little red.”
Her smile said she appreciated the name. “You make it sound like you’re the big bad wolf.”
“More of a surly bear.”
Her gaze danced along the front of me. “Big enough, but aren’t bears supposed to be hairy?”
I grinned for her. “Not when we live in the age of clippers and razors.”
“Are you trying to put images in my mind, bear?”
“None that aren’t already in there.” A new group of patrons pulled me from the naughty gaze she gave me.
Another performance started, dimming the lights and misting more fog across the floor. The redhead’s skin sparkled again, calling for my touch as she leaned in and reached her hand out to me.
“Kaia, by the way, bear.”
Her hand was soft but cold as I laid a kiss on it. “Dev.”
“Dev? That must be a nickname.”
“Short for Devere. It’s French.”
“Mmm, a French bear here in Florida. Now, I’ve heard it all.” Her hand lingered in mine, slowly slipping away like she wanted to pull me closer. How easily I could give into it, to take her upstairs and smear that glitter across both of our bodies, but if she was truly a friend of Maddy’s, the short-lived pleasure would cause more trouble than it was worth.
“I’m sure I have a few more surprises to throw at you, but Maddy would kill me if I scared you off.”
“What makes you think you could?” The challenge in her voice dug nails into my back, pushing at the itch I needed to scratch. Sweet and earthy plumes laced around me as she dropped from her stool to step nearer.
“Experience.” Breathing her in tapped the darker recesses of my nature. “In our line of work, it’s difficult to maintain relationships of any sort outside of family.”
Green moss glimmered with a challenge, her finger poking the center of my chest twice. “Well, do you provide a safe walk service?”
The corners of my mouth twitched with humor. “We certainly do.”
“Hmm. Let me grab my things, then. I’m parked around back.”
This wasn’t a good idea, but I didn’t care. I followed the curve of her walk as she weaved through tables and people, waving and smiling before she disappeared behind the curtains. At the back door, I caught her bending over to lift a chartreuse duffle bag. Some of the other women hugged her, making plans for later or wishing her a good night. A few of them glanced my way, and my muscles tightened as she strode toward me.
I had the door open, waiting for her without pause, and her finger found my arm on her way by. Close behind, the door shut, and we were alone. The moon swaying with her hair as she bounced to her car and threw the bag in her trunk.
“Did you need me to check the backseat?”
“You mean that bear nose can’t smell it from here?” The slow blink teased me, but it didn’t persuade me that she might know more than she let on. It breathed danger into the tension between us, the one yanking me forward as her hand tugged a piece of my long hair.
“Can’t help but play with fire, can you?” I barred her in with my arms, and she shifted seductively, fingers patting the corner of her mouth.
“It was only a little tug. Don’t be so sensitive.” Red-stained lips parted, she lifted them to mine. Atmosphere bloomed between us, and my hand found her back, pulling her into me as her grip wrenched more hair. Heat drove deep as a peek of her flesh bared under my touch.
I grabbed her roughly, lifting her against the trunk, and her soft moan cracked my restraint. She clung to me as I pressed into her.
My mouth dropped to her ear, grasping for scraps of sanity. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, little red?”
Everything about her screamed for me to take her.
“I don’t think you understand how dangerous this is.”
“Oh, you don’t think I’ll hurt you. Do you, bear?”
I snorted, breath draping across her neck. It made her back arch, and I wanted to bite her. A nibble. Maybe more.
“I have a reputation.”
Her thumb fell to my lips. “A ladies’ man. I have eyes.”
“It’s not likely to stop anytime soon.”
“If your rep is so bad, why are you telling me about it instead of taking advantage of the opening I’m offering you?”
Her touch, her scent, the heat in her eyes, they all needled my resolve. Why was I?
Because of my sister. That was why. We allotted ourselves so few friends in the human world. I’d easily ruin this for her if I didn’t stop now.
“Because my sister needs a friend more than I need to get laid.”
Kaia slumped back, fingers tracing the stubble on my cheek, a pursed smile beguiling me further. “You’re a good brother.”
“Only when it counts.”
Her laughter lightened the weight of my desire for her, and I set her feet back on the ground.
“I bet.” Another little tug, and she slipped away.
The moon taunted me; traces of her essence played partner.
I cursed her for being exactly what I needed right then and went inside to the flirt-filled gazes of the ladies sitting at the bar.
With a wink on my way by, I returned to my station up front.
Remember to celebrate with me on facebook, Instagram, or twitter to take part in the giveaways. I’ll be taking entries from 2PM Saturday, June 15th until 2PM on Sunday, June 16th before I pick the winners, but if you want to win some of the extra grab bags or freebie stories, be sure to check in on the official event page.
“Yellow Skies” came from a dream where I was a young girl using this mammoth machine to drill into the dry and dusty earth for water. Behind me was an elementary school, where dream me knew I lived. The sky was yellow and days didn’t last very long, leaving me and my family of survivors burning books to stay warm during the long night.
I drilled several times in close proximity and gained no water, but on the last day of the short sequence, I drilled into a pocket below the surface, expelling a small burp of gas but sucking the thicker atmosphere down into it, dropping me to the ground as the thin air put me to sleep and suffocated me.
In the dream, I knew that all life on Earth was killed in that moment, and I’ve repeatedly called “Yellow Skies” nihilistic because of this, although the ending of the story could be read with a tiny bit more hope than that, I typically lean towards darker interpretations. The same is true when I read others’ stories. Always.
As I was drafting, however, the characters transformed and the story did, too, a little bit. It has a teeny tiny smidgen more hope than my dream had. This came from the many, MANY Catholic stories I heard as a child—between going to church in the wee hours of the morning and my various family members talking about god and lessons to keep in mind.
My favorite by far is the trick my dad taught me as a child, that when Jesus came back for his second coming, the devil would arrive first, pretending to be him. And the way we knew if we were really in the presence of god was to pinch ourselves. If we could feel it, the imposter had come because we become incorporeal in the god’s company.
I don’t know if anyone else has ever heard this before, so far, it’s just been me, but this showcases how deeply ingrained the principles of Catholicism, more specifically Roman Catholicism, develop within my story ideas.
This was all to bring us here, to an excerpt from the story.
I’ve pasted it below, but I also recorded myself reading it, so if you would like to listen along as you read, click the video below!
An Excerpt from “Yellow Skies” from IN THE AIR:
Three blanket-burdened kids swaddled in front of their doors like monsters, jiggling with excitement.
“All right. On with yous, wake up your cousin and let’s have story time.”
Limbs and cotton bumbled through Youngblood’s mess and tackled him in his bed.
His groan had a little life in it.
I cracked one of his clean bottles and offered it to him once the brats settled down to create their nests.
“What’s your symptoms?”
“Hot. Sweaty. Barfy without the chunks.”
He’d had too much of the bad water, and I hadn’t brought any fresh stuff home.
“Drink up some of that.” I propped myself on a nearby chair, pushing the dirty shirts and socks onto his dresser, and opened the book in my lap. “I’ve brought Where Have the Bees Gone?”
“Tell us about the ancient Earth myth.” The eldest braced himself against Youngblood’s bed frame, blankets tucked up under his face.
“I’ve retold that five times this week already.”
“Please.” Their voices chimed in unison.
Settling back, I crossed my legs and gave them the practiced lines my father fed me and Jane when we were young:
Once, thousands of years ago, seventy percent of the Earth was drowned with water.
Vast oceans packed with life that pumped oxygen into the buoyant atmosphere.
Rainbows reflected across the planet and the bright and full sky.
People climbed to the very peaks of mountains; they flung themselves into the vacuum of space; they sculpted the landscapes into monuments. But they never dropped themselves completely through the depths of the sea for the abundance of it.
As the air choked with smog and runoff stained the waters, life blew into chaos.
Many died.
The Earth was damaged beyond repair.
Then, the angels came, sinking from the streaked clouds and distant stars to scoop up a few hundred thousand souls before leaving the rest to the apocalypse.
Plagues spread—infectious bubbles and boiled lungs, rotting sores and flesh-eating parasites. Illness took more than half of who was left behind. Continued to with festering cancers and carcinogens. With polluted air and water. With their means of life dying away.
People warred over what value the Earth still provided them. Territories formed. Families tore themselves apart.
The water dried up. Food was harder to maintain. The atmosphere dwindled.
But stories say that those angels plan to come back for the ones who can suffer through their failing planet and reward them with a new, blue oasis to enjoy because they’d proven their appreciation of being provided so much.
As the skies darken, we await the shining saviors from distant stars.
Each of them blinked unseeing eyes at me, Youngblood included.
Did he see those angels swooping down for us as his fever spread moisture across his forehead?
“Tell us again,” the littlest said.
“What do you think it’s like to float?” asked the middlest.
“Can you imagine not seeing the stars most of the day? A sky so bright to cover them all for hours.”
“What it was like to stand under rain.” Youngblood rolled onto his back, breath labored.
The polluted leftover bottled water from a plant my parents and their group found were most of what we had in reserve. No one wanted to touch them for this reason, but water, even tainted, was too valuable to waste.
The kids’eyes glowed with mysteries before they slowly came back to me with sleepiness.
“Did you want me to read Where Have the Bees Gone?”
They grumbled, but I read it to them anyways before sneaking away from their snores.
Do you see bits of your past peeking into your writing over and over again? If so, tell me about it in the comments below.
If you want to read the rest of the story, and all of the other awesome ones published alongside it, get your hands on IN THE AIR.
In celebration of my upcoming novella, Little Red and the Surly Bear, I thought I’d explore a scene from the story from one of my supporting character’s point of view.
Enjoy!
Maddy pinched her son, swatting him out of the way as he pulled a fresh onion ring from the top of a patron’s plate. “You quit that before I serve you up to our customers instead.”
Theo grumbled and rolled his eyes, so she swatted him again.
A deep smoke-laced coffee scent inched through the kitchen window, narrowing Maddy’s eyes on the curls as Kalib walked to the table where Kaia sat. And neither of them told her they were coming? Oh no, sweets. That is not how she ran her social life or safehouses, and that vampire knew as much.
When she finished the fried catfish plate and served it to her customer at the bar, she detoured and slipped into the empty seat at their table. “Two of my favorite people show up at my place, and nobody warns me first. You’d better be planning me a surprise party, or I’m going to be offended.”
“Surprise.” Kalib smiled without fang, warmth and intimacy bled into it like a promise to make it up to her.
He’d better.
Maddy turned to Kaia, knowing her humanity and newness to paranormal persuasiveness, she didn’t hold it against her. Much.
“I sent you a message before I left.” Kaia’s green eyes blinked at her as is if to amplify her innocence.
A short shuffle with her phone, and there it was, just as her friend said, a heads-up text. Maybe Kaia was more of a match for this group than she thought. “Well, apparently you did. So, I’ll forgive you. You, on the other hand, are in the dog house.”
Maddy pointed at him to accentuate her point.
He played his part, dramatic in shock. “If this is what I get for surprising a friend, I will have to choose better friends, maus.”
Maybe he played that part too well, anxiety fluttered under her ribs for a heartbeat before she pushed it away. They’d been friends a long time. More than on a few occasions.
It carried her back to the kitchen.
Dev slipped in through the back—the real reason Kalib was at their establishment. Should have figured.
Her brother leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek before tagging Javier for a brief chat.
Maddy shook it off, digging into her work: tasting, seasoning, stirring, scooping. Managing the pub’s kitchen and trying to ignore the guilt of having pushed Kalib away those centuries ago. Before she knew the kind of man he was. Before she’d had Theo.
She needed a fresh air break. Or maybe a cigarette and a glass of bourbon.
Hitting a lull in the line, Maddy did just that, sneaking off as Kalib grabbed her brother’s attention. As much as she brush him off, the concrete feeling of his attention caressed her spine.
The backdoor sealed the noise and stew of scents inside, and Maddy finally found some relief. She fished out the pack of cigarettes she kept for times like this from behind the dumpster and pulled the acrid smoke into her lungs with relish before the backdoor opened again, and Kalib stepped out.
“Tsk, tsk, maus. Do you not know how quickly those death sticks will kill you?” Unceremoniously close, he slipped the cigarette from her fingers and took his own drag, the smoke pluming thicker and darker on his exhale.
Sweeter.
Kalib leaned her back against the brick via proxy as he returned her nicotine. His proximity stirring old feelings with the new ones.
The temptation to draw him closer strangled her. Too close to mating season.
She glanced at the door between heartbeats.
“Afraid of being caught by your pious brother?”
That pulled a snort out of her. “My brother? Pious? I think you’ve had something a little heavier than tobacco.”
Those elegant fingers stopped her short, drawing her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.
Sanity said to push him away, but his smoke slipped into her mouth before he kissed her—intense like the first time but not fueled by the same childish neediness.
Still she could not control her ragged breath when he pulled back.
“Consider this my apology for showing up unannounced and playing matchmaker. The romantic in me can’t seem to help myself.”
Outside, the buzzing cicadas and chirping crickets, the occasional bleat from an oversized frog and the general whispering of the trees reached him. Besides his ache to be wrapped up with Kaia, peace fell over him. The dryad chose and secured a wonderful piece of land.
The Scarlet Queen bothered him, increasingly so as the sun lightened the blue of the sky and his mind grew crisp and fully awake. She didn’t use her powers on the two of them while she had opportunity to, unless she’d gone complacent through her power over others. And Severins himself was too low in the ranks for her to do the dirty work. Still, what he’d just learned about the pixie nagged him.
Scarlet had been rigid with her hands, placing them oddly on her thighs and at her sides, twitching ever so slightly, but she could have simply been eccentric. He’d met his share of odd fae over his lifetime. Without being aware of her normal behavior, Severins merely had assumptions—nothing concrete enough to plan around. The side of his head pounded in time with his heartbeat, and heat warmed the sky like his early mornings in Afghanistan with steel beach soaking up the sun and reflecting a steaming ninety degrees by breakfast.
Somehow, Afghanistan seemed easier than this. The routines, knowing the enemy, knowing the men he worked with. Severins sighed and stepped off the porch, pacing the brisk lawn as he searched for a signal on his cell. He found a spot by Kalib’s car where he maintained two bars and view of the trailer.
He dialed home.
His mother answered. “Who is this?”
“Maman.”
“Where have you been? Your leave started a week ago.” The worry in her voice weighed on his shoulders.
“I’ve fallen into something. I won’t make it unless it’s safe. Right now, it isn’t. And before you ask, I can’t tell you like this…I’m supposed to pick up Shawna, and since I can’t, I want you to. Be ready for anything.”
“Severins, you’re worrying me.”
He needed her worried, because a worried maman meant a protected pup.
“Just keep her safe for me until I get there, okay?”
“Yes, my son, I will protect her with my life.” She sounded resolved and very much like the warrior wolf she’d always been. “Give me some clue as to what I might prepare for.”
“The Scarlet Queen.” Bodies moved inside at both ends of the house. “I need to go. Je t’aime, Maman.”
She told him that she loved him, too, before he walked around the house. No signs of anyone on or near the property. But he clearly felt Kaia moving through the house.
She met him on the porch with a sleepy smile. “Hey there, Big Bad Wolf. You weren’t marking your territory on any of Eilon’s precious plants, were you?”
Severins eased her against him, running his fingers through her hair to release her scent into the air. Everything inside burned for her with such intensity that his senses sharpened. But the general cool touch of her fingertips blazed against his biceps. Bending to kiss her forehead, the same unnerving heat greeted him. “Are you feeling all right, beautiful? You’re burning up.”
“Hmm?” The strength of her surprised him as she squeezed him closer, pushing his torn shirt up his torso. “I feel fine.”
Rubbing her body against his sent a jolt of need through him. But when she lifted her face to him, the green of her eyes took on a reddish-brown ring as though the fields burned under the relentless, Oklahoma sun. She pulled at him again, but apprehension hit him instead of arousal. “Why don’t we find a soft bed of flowers to desecrate?”
Framing her face with his palms, he bent for a better look. The colors of her irises darkened along the rim, spreading like vines toward her pupils. Pliable magick wove between them, and sirens rang in Severins’ head. “Shit.”
Yanking her into his arms, he carried her inside, restraining her thrashes. “Oi,” he called in the doorway. “Little help.”
Kaia’s elbow connected with his nose, and the crunch of cartilage shot pain straight into his brain. But he held onto her until Kalib took her. Blood dripped onto his fingers as he tipped his head back until the dryad offered him a fresh towel with some ice.
The vampire struggled with Kaia in attempts of subduing her without harm. He succeeded in pinning her to the chair in which he’d slept. Bending to get a good look at her, he swore. Profanity cut short, Kaia pressed her mouth to his before she floated into the leather with a grin unbefitting of her gentle persona.
“Chai would never do that. You’re not her.”
The laugh that bellowed from her made the ivy quiver and retreat, pressing against its support in fear. She writhed in her seat, and the vampire used his hips to pin her knees together. Kaia purred at him.
Eilon sniffed at the southeast corner of his house, reaching behind him with a distracted gesture. “Bosex. Hawk. Resting in an oak a kilometer from here.”
Grown rigid, Eilon stomped his foot, his skin marbled, and ivy sprouted in place of his hair. “No. No! Nobody marks my trees. My trees!”
“Hey, oak boy.”
Eilon whipped his head around, black eyes wide and terrifying. The knobs at his knuckles sprouted thick, sharp thorns.
“Got anything to keep her from hurting herself or us?”
Black gaze swung to Kaia and back, before he shifted, ordering Kalib to bring her closer. Eilon coaxed the vines on his wall, and as the vampire set her against them, ivy wrapped around her limbs, torso, and throat. Long stem-like fingers flicked at the last vine. “She needs to breathe.”
The vine unraveled from her throat and tangled itself around her waist. Kaia jerked forward after Eilon, laughing as more vines held her.
“You’ll never win. Just let them take me.” Her body rolled against her restraints. “We’ll all dance in blood as your bodies are butchered, your bones gnawed on, and we add you to the fire like kindling.”
The bleeding in Severins’ nose stopped, and he felt it for the break, shifting it into place as he shouted his rage. Those bastards infiltrated her mind. This wasn’t a power present during their capture, and he’d never heard of a bosex that could pull this stunt off, nor a vampire without eye contact.
“Can fae perform a trick like that?” Kalib asked Eilon; he must have come to the same conclusion.
Kaia began a low, eerie song in a language he didn’t understand—her voice sounded unlike her own. Eilon stood transfixed by it until Severins skirted him toward the door.
“I know of one. The Scarlet Queen’s apprentice—a babe stolen from a very powerful family. She can do more the closer she comes.” The dramatics seemed to lessen the more danger seeped into the little house and the louder Kaia’s voice became.
Each of them stood at the ready, so Severins took his role. He pointed at the vampire. “Keep the front door in sight. Stand between anything that wants to get inside to Kaia. And you,” he pointed at the dryad, “Head southeast. Distract them if you can’t take them. I’m searching for whoever’s causing this.”
Haunting giggles cascaded out of Kaia, twisting a knot in Severins’ gut. He took a long whiff of the magick as his nose cleared and healed. “I’ll go first.”
They each moved in the precise movements of trained men. Severins followed the faint traces of magick through the trees, but it turned him around and had him retracing his steps until his wolf senses overlapped and became his downfall. Fewer animals rustled around than he expected. The magick was stronger; he could taste it, but he’d gotten lost in the woods for the first time in over six hundred years.
Stopping, Severins listened.
The trees grew silent.
The air went still.
He braced himself for attack and waited.
And waited.
The whoosh came from his right.
Severins turned to meet it.
Sharp jabs greeted the muscles as his back met the tree behind him.
A familiar fist met his ribs, and he returned the favor, finding the hawk’s flesh. Sharp streams of light reflected off the golden hue of him.
Grabbing a hold of him, Severins gained ground, twisting Eric to the left.
The swift pressure in his side made him grunt, and he knew he’d been stabbed. He held back no restraint as he shoved the hawk back into the tree, aim intact; a sharp, broken branch pierced Eric’s middle. The wood produced a wound less threatening than his own, but it rewarded Severins the time to retreat.
At the porch, he pulled the blade out and fell to his knees. The vampire stood behind him in seconds. “Silver-plated. Cheap but enough.”
Plated silver meant serious damage to his internal organs, but it didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t heal, but he didn’t have the time for this kind of wound. They wanted him down, that’s for sure. And they got him there.
Kalib pulled Severins up, maneuvered him inside, and gave him the shirt off his back. “Press this to it. I’ll find the nymph.”
And the vampire disappeared.
Tall, blonde, and charming, a new adventure has blown into Miami.
When Sergeant Severins Bouvier’s wolf senses bring him to a tiny accountants’ office, he unknowingly steps in the middle of a manhunt.
Kaia doesn’t trust Sev, but she’ll have to rely on him once a rogue group of creatures catches her scent.
Now, they’re on the run together, and chasing after her ex is the only way of ending this nightmare.
If you like the dark and sexy plots of the Dark Hunters and paranormal twists of the Anita Blake Series, you’ll love the Loving Red saga.
Buy Loving Red to start this sweetly sadistic affair today.
I dug into the earth behind my crumbling abode, cramming soil under my short fingernails as the weeds threatening to choke my garden came loose. The pile would be turned into mulch, chopped and left to rot with other scraps. Not that we had many of those.
All of my digging created two trips to the composting pile and a scant two carrots, two potatoes, and smattering of tomatoes that were mildly chewed up by bugs. I gathered them in my apron pockets and lugged my tools back to the house.
Sweat and grime swathed my face, neck, and chest, but most would have to stay until tonight’s scheduled bath, but I wiped some away from my eyes and mouth with a damp cloth and wished I’d done more when the exotic scents of vanilla and honey permeated the back entrance.
Patting loose strands of hair, I turned to find the young gentleman who liked to come read to me and my three little brats. The twinkle in his midnight eyes made my stomach flip-flop.
I curtsied a little at his entrance. “Mr. Sotir, what a pleasant surprise. Would you like some tea? I can set you up in the drawing room.”
“I would, but I am in no need of such special treatment. I can take it here with you.”
Why did his eyes sparkle that way when he looked at me? I shuffled around the kitchen, putting my haul beside the sink, filling the kettle for the stove, and pulling cups and tea leaves and a strainer.
“Did you bring a book to read to us today?”
“I did. If that pleases you. I brought ‘The Tale of Tsaritsa Dinara.’ It’s a Russian tale about a Christian queen who struggles against a Persian king due to her refusal to comply with his demands for a tribute. She galloped into battle against him armored on a white steed. I think you would like it very much.”
“A female hero?” I smiled to myself. “I think I would like that, but the kids are about their chores and lessons right now, and I’m afraid that they will be for the next few hours.”
The water whistled on the stove, and I poured the tea to serve, leaning against the counter to enjoy my own.
“Perhaps until they are finished, I can regale you with stories in the oral tradition as we walk.”
A blush burned my cheeks, hopefully hidden under the smeared soil. “What stories do you know so well to recite to me? Is it a means to parade your position over me for some kind of perversion of your own?”
He laughed silently and shook his head. “Nothing of the kind. I assure you.”
I nodded, and he extended his elbow to me as an escort.
Flutters exaggerated the flopping of my stomach, and I had a hard time following the obscure tale he wove.
When we circled back under the bridge to the muddied creek, he pulled me to a stop.
Thudding in my chest made my breath go wild as this man leaned in closer. Perhaps a perversion wouldn’t be quite so bad.
The pad of his thumb brushed dirt from my cheek.
“You are an awfully forward man, Mr. Sotir.”
“Eugene. I believe we are familiar enough for you to call me Eugene.”
The touch of his mouth replaced the sun with stars, and my fingers found his suit before he retreated.
“Forgive me,” he said against my lips. “I couldn’t seem to help myself. Perhaps, we should return to the house to keep me from overstepping my bounds again.”