“The Rainbow Sprite” Teasers

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New teasers for my upcoming story, “The Rainbow Sprite.”

All full of sex and magick – just the way I like it.

Stay tuned tomorrow for a video excerpt, read by yours truly.

The Scarlet Queen interviewed by Kaia Skarin

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alisha costanzo, Assetato, blood, book, Broken World, Celampresians, character sketch, Death, eilon, evil, faeries, fantasy, fear, folklore, horror, humor, interview, Loving Red, magick, monster, myth, novel, paranormal, phea, power, romance, russian, scarlet queen, Transmundane Press, Travelers, urban fantasy, vampire, victims, writing

Kaia sits patiently at an interview table, a recorder prepped and ready. She twists the Cat’s Eye ring around her pinky. Anxiety hotwires her pulse when Scarlet enters, hair pinned in a sleek bun atop of her head, adorned with a small tiara. Pearls decorate her throat, giving more class to her simple, black dress. White gloves cinch her arms mid-bicep. She truly channeled Audrey Hepburn, only with a darker, more exotic face.

Kaia presses record as Scarlet sits across from her.

Scarlet: I see your lovers put too much faith in either your courage or my restraint, leaving you alone here to question me. Maybe that is because you are a human, and I have little interest in them.

Kaia: They’re around. And I’m not scared of you.

Scarlet: You should be, but good for you.

Kaia: Can you state your full name for the record?

Scarlet: Marusya Negreev. It means bitter.

Kaia: And you’re commonly called the Scarlet Queen?

S: Among other names, yes. You are correct.

K: What was your childhood like?

S: What boring questions you have for me. My parents were ignorant and inattentive, so I sat idle too often in my room and with my servants’ children like some improper babe. I had an education like any normal child, and I came into my abilities late. Scarlet tugs on her white gloves, adjusting the fingertips before smoothing her skirt against her tan legs.

Kaia remembers Eilon telling her how this fae ceremoniously slaughtered her own parents with those abilities.

K: Would you unleash sparkly death ponies on the world?

S: Amusement brightens her dark eyes. No. Even if such creatures did exist. I would rather keep and cherish them. Although I admit, I would use them on my subjects if need be.

K: What do you require of your subjects?

S: Loyalty, of the unwavering variety.

K: What makes you angry?

S: Idleness. Everyone should have a purpose for himself or herself. Always.

K: Who is your greatest hero?

S: Hero? I have no heroes. I do admire the vampire queen; however, I would not call her my hero. An ally perhaps.

K: Not knowing much about the vampire queen, Sev tells her that his agency, the Assetato, fight against her. How did you meet your lover?

S: Her sigh is hard to decipher—frustration or longing. I met him on my first trip to the Americas back in the twenties. Daniel was a relatively young vampire, but he had an amazing ability that I hoped to exploit. She shook her head, showing a fracture in her decorum. He could project stories into others’ minds, replace their memories, and make them believe whatever he liked.

The first time he showed me, he escorted me as an agent for the vampire queen, and I watched as Daniel convinced a woman her baby had died while it sat sleeping in her arms. Stirred into hysteria, she shook what she believed to be her dead baby in attempts to wake it, only killing it in the process, snapping its poor neck.

He showed me a fantastic time, and I let him kiss me when he dropped me home.

K: Kaia covers her mouth to keep from retching. Surely, the story means to frighten or disgust her. Scarlet accomplished her goal. What a fairy tale romance.

S: The best a girl can ask for. Her sweet smile might be convincing if not for the evil twinkle.

K: Taking a deep breath, she pushes forward. What is a ritual you engage in daily?

S: Smile slanting, she nods. I bathe in the blood of virgins.

K: Now, Scarlet is messing with her. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

S: I would develop a more prolific sense of humor. Obviously.

K: Tea or coffee?

S: Tea with milk and one sugar. One must always have sweets and cakes at tea time.

K: Odd that they have that in common. She doesn’t like it. What’s your favorite sweet?

S: Пряники or spice cakes with honey. But I will take Орешки or dough balls filled with condensed milk and jam.

K: Great. I’ll have to try those.

S: Is that all?

K: Yup. You can have an escort if you want.

S: How sweet. She stands, smoothing her dress and gloves before she leaves. 

Kaia relaxes, shuts off the recorder, and looks around. Anxiety taps into her chest. Waiting until her breath calms, she leaves the room to rejoin her new lover and wolf, Sev.

Excerpt from Chapter Nine of LOVING RED

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alisha costanzo, andre, audrey hepburn, author, blood, book, bosex, breakfast at tiffany's, Broken World, character development, circus, Death, Dev, fae, faerie, fantasy, gypsies, horror, kaia, kidnapping, love, Loving Red, monsters, novel, paranormal, paranormal romance, power, revenge, romance, scarlet, Sev, Shapeshifter, shifters, sneak peek, torture, Transmundane Press, Travelers, urban fantasy, vampire, werebears, weres, Werewolf, werewolves

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 she 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 spit 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. Fitting, I would think.”

Quite. But not her real name. Dev called her 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. Her arm healed, although unlike 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 attacked you. Predictable.” He gave her a deviant grin before pushing her face back into the cold water.

Pre-order the book here!

Learn more about the gypsies/travelers in my Did You Know… post.

Kickstarter Launched

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LOVING RED

For Sergeant Severins Bouvier, silence means tactical planning and a large death toll, and he can’t shake how danger threatens him on the beaches of Miami, especially after seeing one of his associates in a local sandwich shop. Worse, the enemy seems fascinated with the woman he can’t stop thinking about—a woman determined not to trust him.

Everything about Sev crashes through Kaia’s carefully placed boundaries, traps, and avoidances. Regardless of her lack of interest in the majority of men, the ones that did catch her off guard left a lot of collateral damage. Who better than a soldier to understand that?

The problem is that she trusts him. Just not with her heart.

Initial Goal: $1,500.00

What your donations support:

Professional Editing

Personalized Swag

Kick Ass Month Long Tour with Giveaways

Full Rights to the Cover

Check out the full campaign and fun swag here!

Did You Know…About Atlantis? (Part One)

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Once the home to an advanced, ancient civilization, the lost continent of Atlantis has become an iconic myth that has inspired philosophers, like Plato, and writers, such as Jules Verne. Often, we imagine Atlantis as crumbling columned ruins in the thick of seaweed and moss or a pristine sunken city, still inhabited by a mysteriously intelligent and hardy race. Yet, no matter the depiction, the majority of the world reveres the lost city as a reality.

Hundreds of books have reconstructed the image of Atlantis drawing from mythology, archaeology, and geology and conclude that the Atlantean civilization was completely destroyed by a colossal catastrophe about 12,000 years ago, perhaps via a natural cataclysm, such as an asteroid impact or the Earth’s crust opening to swallow them. But perhaps they destroyed themselves through their mad experiments. Either way they are theorized as an advanced civilization, likely more advanced than our own society, through their use of crystals, which could be the force that wiped them out.

According to Plato, the Athenians led a successful resistance of the Europeans against the Atlantean forces, which were ruled by group of kings descended from Poseidon. The chief king descended from Atlas, Poseidon’s eldest son. The people were viewed as godlike for their pure hearts, but due to their divine blood, they faded into corruption and greed—much like the advanced civilizations of the twenty-first century. After the Atlanteans were defeated, the gods decided to punish them for their pride. Plato writes, “There were earthquakes and floods of extraordinary violence, and in a single day and night…the island of Atlantis disappeared into the depth of the sea.” When the earth swallowed up the island, it also took with it the people and the campaigning army.

To learn more about Plato’s Atlantis, click here or here.

For a more in depth look at the theory of Atlantis (specifically as a lost continent in the Java Sea between India and Australia), click here.

To learn more about my rendition of the Atlantean myth, click here.

Interview with Phea Celampresian: the Queen of Darkness

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<I sit with Phea opposite me, doing my best to sit straight. For such a small woman, she exudes an intimidating breadth of power. I can’t bring myself to speak as she waits for us to begin.>

It wouldn’t do for you to cower from me if you are meant to interview me, now would it?

True enough. I certainly appreciate it. With the recent revelation about your past, readers still want to know why after all of these years, you’re still such a bitch?

<She laughs.> It is always the woman who is a bitch, isn’t it? A forceful man is merely a warrior, a ruler, or a god. Well, I am all of those things. I merely have ovaries.

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Temperance is overrated in all of its forms, but most directly—mercy. If someone must ask for mercy, they do not deserve it.

Which talent would you most like to have?

Compassion.

I don’t think compassion is considered a talent.

Oh, believe me, it’s almost an art form. And I have no natural talent for it.

What is your most treasured possession?

My son.

What is your greatest regret?

Acting on love.

Do you have anything to say to those who view you as a home wrecker?

Yes. Xander’s soul was first mine, as I believed when he was Jydios. Physical forms have no meaning to me, and I merely claimed what was mine.

So you believe James is the reincarnated Jydios?

I despise the use of that name formed from the mouth of an insolent renegade. But belief has nothing to do with it.

Interesting. I hadn’t known that. It sure would explain some things.

I would say that I’m happy to oblige, but I am not.

Okay. Moving on then. What do you consider risky behavior?

Allowing my offspring to grow to uncontrollable levels.

Have they? Grown uncontrollable?

When the queen must fight to gain knowledge about those born from her blood, I would say so.

Where do you most feel at home?

I don’t.

Okay, well, let’s wrap this up, shall we? I’m sure you’ve got places to be and people to kill. Thanks, Phea, from taking some time out to answer my questions.

To learn more about Phea, check out her new story, “Maiden of the Underworld,” here. And of course, her unruly introduction in Blood Phoenix: Rebirth and Blood Phoenix: Claimed. Also, check out her Facebook page!

BLOOD PHOENIX: CLAIMED Teasers

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Yeah, I know. I’m a bit behind since BLOOD PHOENIX: CLAIMED came out in October. But damn it, I get busy. So, here they are. All six of them. Keep tuned for updates on LOVING RED and its kickstarter campaign.

 

Check out the teasers for BLOOD PHOENIX: REBIRTH and “Maiden of the Underworld” from DISTORTED.

Cover Reveal for DISTORTED!

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Fantasy Anthology

Date Published: November 7, 2014

Tantalizingly bloody tales featuring human pitted against beast and gods, with the true majesty and horrors of the afterlife, with love and death and desire…

Eight writers modernize ancient mythologies in DISTORTED, proving that not every story has been told.

EXCERPTS

From “To Sing Which Tune” by Heidi C Vlach

Thinking that way made the truth weigh heavier: Helen might have picked up soda bottles on the beach last week, and worked on biochemical equations last night until her head screamed for mercy. She had stroked her own ego for attending her university’s Sound The Sirens fundraiser gala, one where she wore an actual dress and some mascara. But she wasn’t doing enough.

She couldn’t think of Odyssia’s face without a grey burden of guilt. The face that had beamed all throughout her childhood, crinkled with merriment around her eyes and poured joyous, warbling songs from her lips. Taught Helen songs she hummed offhandedly, even now. But these past few months, Odyssia barely smiled. She stared longer at Helen; like two stars with a void between them.

Sirens attack yacht, 2 dead.

Putting down the newspaper, Helen rose from the kitchen table to go get dressed and do something recklessly expensive. This was a bigger issue than one homicide case. Bigger than the one siren Helen owed a debt of love to. Bigger than her personal credit rating could make a dent in, but she had to try.

From “Bullman” by Anthony S. Buoni

“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea,” Cassandra said, adjusting the top of her black corset.  Dressed like a cyber goth club kid, multicolored glow sticks dangled from the zippers and belt on her baggy black pants matched her glowing bracelets, necklaces, and earrings.  She scratched her short, spiky black hair with hot pink tips from her eyes before crossing her arms.

Theo wasn’t sure why Icky wanted Europe so bad—Cassandra’s green gaze and hourglass figure made her the prettier of the two.  Other than a hint of social awkwardness and her taste for illegal intoxicants, Cassandra was a catch.

“Chicken,” Icky said, clucking.

“Well, what is it?” Ariadne asked.  “Going to sit around with your fingers in a bowl of peeled grapes and tell each other stories about vanishing hitchhikers and perverts with hooks for hands attacking Lovers’ Lane?”

“No,” Icky said.  “Something way better.  We’re driving to Hamilton Heights and looking for the Bullman.”

Ariadne puffed.

“The Bullman?” Theo asked conscious of his date’s aggravation.  The tale stemmed from a dark page in her family’s history, so he tried downplaying it.  “There’s no such thing.”

Everyone knew the town’s most famous urban legend.

Before Ariadne was born, her parents’ first child came into the world stillborn.  Refusing any public response or funeral, the prominent family ignored the tragedy, and, as will often happen when scandal rubs elbows with the rich, their terse reaction prompted immediate gossip.

Stories claiming that the child survived began circulating the community.  The myth grew, taking on an insidious nature.

The most common account had Ariadne’s mom falling in love and fornicating with their prize winning snow-white bull, resulting in the birth of a ferocious monster.  Fearing disgrace, Judge Hamilton ordered the creature destroyed.  Their doctor, taken by the genetic anomaly and unable to terminate the atrocity, gave the creature to hobos living in scattered shacks dotting the dense woods outside of town so he could study it in secret.

According to rumors, the creature matured and now lurked the forest near Cretan Road andHamilton Heights, a sprawling park on the lake bordering the state’s thick wilderness.  Campers and hikers would return from the forest with stories of a hairy, malformed creature stealing food and gear from their campsites before scurrying off into the brush.  Once in a while, someone would vanish in the woods, and parents told their kids that the Bullman roamed the neighborhood streets after sunset, stealing and devouring misbehaving children.

No one ever managed to photograph the thing.

No footprints emerged in the rich, dark soil or red clay hills surrounding Hamilton Heights.

Despite a lack of hard evidence, the stories lingered on the public tongue, whispers spoken around crackling campfires and in tight alleyways.

The Hamilton family did not appreciate the yarn and ignored the accounts, debunking them whenever the newspaper reported sightings or ran spotlights for their Halloween editions.

Of all the embarrassing things that could go wrong on a first date with Ariadne Hamilton, Theo couldn’t think of anything worse than Icky seeking out her fabled brother.

About the Editors

Alisha Costanzo is from a Syracuse suburb. She earned her MFA in creative writing from the University of Central Oklahoma, where she currently teaches English. She’s the author of BLOOD PHOENIX: REBIRTH and BLOOD PHOENIX: CLAIMED, and co-editor of DISTORTED. LOVING RED, a Broken World novel, is undergoing serious edits for its 2015 release. In the meantime, she will continue to corrupt young minds, rant about the government, and daydream about her all around nasty creatures.

Having relocated from Northwest Florida’s lonesome roads and haunted swamps, Anthony S. Buoni now prowls the gas lamp lit streets of New Orleans, playing moonlight hide and seek in the Crescent City’s above ground cemeteries. Anthony is the author of Conversation Party, Bad Apple Bolero, as well as the editor to the Between There anthologies.  His stories and articles have been featured in North Florida Noir and Waterfront Living. When not prowling, Anthony keeps it scary, writing dark fiction, editing, and watching horror movies.  In his spare time, he DJs, plays music, and conjures other worldly creatures with tarot cards and dreams.

Author Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter: @TransmundnePres   @AlishaCostanzo

Goodreads

Things to Know About the Authors

Heidi Vlach:

-Heidi was born and raised in northern Ontario, Canada — but despite lifelong experience with snow, she hates cold weather.

-Heidi’s parents are furniture salespeople: Heidi grew up with lots of big cardboard boxes to play in and transform with her imagination.

-She graduated chef training at age 18. There was tense discussion among the chefs before Heidi was allowed to attend the wine-tasting class, since legal drinking age in Ontario, Canada is 19.

-Heidi waited tables at a sushi restaurant for 3 years. Her favourite part of the job was encouraging nervous first-timers to try the raw fish.

-Heidi typically writes at her kitchen table, while drinking coffee, listening to electronic trance music, and snuggling one of her cats.

Catherine Edmunds:

-I’m a professional viola player. My string quartet was once kicked out of a shopping mall where we were performing by security because someone had complained our music was ‘too noisy’.

-My great-uncle worked with Albert Einstein.

-I took up ballet on my doctor’s suggestion at the age of three to cure my flat feet, and kept dancing until I was fourteen. Absolutely loved it. Still have flat feet.

-I appeared on national TV in 2013, painting in the Glasgow heats of Sky Arts Portrait Artist of the Year. My model was actress Sophie Turner—Sansa Stark in Game of Thrones.

-I was once bitten by a tadpole.

Alisha Costanzo:

-I like to teach, even when no body asked for a lesson. Sometimes, this can make me feel like a snob, but when people make mistakes and no one corrects them, they are doomed to be repeat offenders.

-One of my favorite jobs so far was working at a funeral home. Most often, I had the building to myself, the nights were quiet, and I got to read or write. Other times, I felt emotional, but ensuring a funeral goes smoothly is rewarding.

-When I role-play write, I often prefer to be the male. I don’t tend to hear objections.

-I love teaching barefoot in my classroom, even when it’s freezing out.

-I’m an environmentalist and anti-consumerist…until I walk into a bookstore.

Patricia J. Esposito:

-Some of my hardest laughing comes when roughhousing with my constant companion, an eighty-five-pound Golden Retriever who thinks nothing of pouncing full-body on me.

-The crystal bowls I received as wedding gifts contain polished stones from the shores of Lake Superior.

-At home I prefer to drink only water, at the coffee shop, only chai tea, and at parties, only Courvoisier.

-I often have to work at home till late at night due to lost time making snow forts or playing ninjas with the neighbor kids (and my dog, of course). Fun is a distraction I encourage.

-Despite the convenience of iPhone music, at all times, my purse is weighted with the music CDs I can’t live without; after all, if I were to get stranded on a desert island, at least I could hold the CDs against me and imagine their sound.

Rebecca Lynch:

-I loathe cooked tomatoes.

-I can boast a library of 1000 books.

-I never graduated high school.

-My original major was nursing.

-I met my husband at an outdoor barracks party during a tornado.

Autumn Lishky:

-I made more as a pizza delivery driver than I have as a professional.

-I hate Twinkies because of the marshmallow filling. However, I like marshmallows. Go figure.

-I’m that snob that judges your grammar on Facebook and Twitter.

-My husband and I have watched hundreds upon hundreds of horror movies, and only one has made me stop eating—Cradle of Fear by Cradle of Filth.

-When I feel completely lost, I consult my Magic 8-Ball.

Christian Bone:

-I currently reside on the Isle of Wight in the United Kingdom, a small place cut off from the rest of the country. It is somewhat like the Village from The Prisoner but without the sinister brainwashing (I hope).

-I possess an unhealthy obsession for all things Sherlock Holmes. So much so that I own three copies of the same book, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. We all do silly things when we’re in love.

-I have a fond memory of once meeting Neil Gaiman, a very nice man who greeted me as a ‘fellow writer.’ I’m still thinking of a way to put that event on a T-shirt.

-I’ve always had a great interest in writing, but for a brief time when I was younger, much to grown-up me’s disbelief, I wanted to go into football/soccer. It is a period of my life that I cannot explain.

-The first story I remember writing was about some kid detectives who stopped a pair of ghosts from stealing buried treasure. Clearly, I’ve never been one for genre boundaries.

Anthony S. Buoni:

-I’m a DJ, specializing in goth, punk, trance, new wave, and house.  I also play guitar, sing, and write my own music and electronic loops.

-I believe in all the spooky things I write about.

-I bought my laptop based on how easy it was for me to type on it.

-I’m pagan. I love growing plants and studying the moon, planets, and stars.

-I’ve sat through entire college classes without getting credit because I was interested, not because I was grade or degree driven.

Giveaway

One $10.00 Amazon gift card

One ARC of Distorted

One 8×10 poster signed by both editors

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sneak Peek: Chapter Twenty-One from Blood Phoenix: Claimed

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blood, blood phoenix, Boden, chapter twenty-one, claimed, club, costanzo, feed, fight, gene, glamour, hunger, leprechaun, magick, power, red, sneak peek, tahe, vampires

Talking with Tahe grew quick and easy, like with Ari. She’d moved to the swings, spinning the chains and letting out small giggles as she spun. Planting her feet on the ground, she checked the sky and stood. “It’s about that time. I know you had a bit from that bowl of lucky charms, but how’d you like to take a sample of my nightly menu?”

I stiffened and checked with Boden, who sat on the end of the slide. He shrugged and gestured his compliance with a wave of his hand.

Nibbling on my bottom lip, I nodded, my stomach gurgling. James was right; I was forever hungry. But was it smart to go feeding with another vampire? When I didn’t kill, would she report me? Or worse, kill my victims on the spot?

Tahe’s smiled held warmth I wished I trusted. She didn’t scare me like Felix or Vincent or Phea, but fear became such a normal part of my life that the lack of threat from Tahe made me wary. She gestured for me to follow her.

I stayed ten paces behind her with Boden at my back, his hands persistent in my hair, at my shoulders or back, before I took his hand in mine and forced him to stop fidgeting; his thumb danced along the back of my hand. His emotions ran over my skin like a radio broadcast—ready for a fight.

“You’ll like the selection, I promise. It’s a hot spot this time-a-night. Plenty willing to get something kinky on. Plenty willing enough to be bitten. Got my own private room there, too, when I want it.” She glanced back at us, her dark eyes flashing in the low light; we emerged from the wilderness of the park and hit the street.

Factory Street buzzed this early in the night, but she steered us off into the middle of downtown where men started ogling her. Silent at first they catcalled and competed for her attention. I swear, one man reached for her, but Tahe kept walking, slipping away with ease, as though she was used to the attention. She steered us down a side alley and into a solid-black metal door. A boom boom boom vibrated over my skin, making it tingle. Sweat, blood, and alcohol hit me like a sledgehammer.

As we stepped through the door, Tahe reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me straight for the dance floor. Panic gripped my sternum, but Boden calmed me right before we hit the crowd. The thumping of their blood grew stronger and the scent of their sweet blood surrounded me, forcing me to close my eyes and be pulled along. Boden’s hand sank into my hair, adding another layer of his magick to keep me calm, combating my growing hunger.

At first, bodies pressed against me, writhing and slick, but they gradually parted to give Boden and I enough space to pass through without so much physical contact. He used more magick than normal, and more than appropriate for a place so saturated with humans and God knew what else. I opened my eyes as we emerged from the crowd. Tahe smiled as if I passed her initiation, and I wanted to curse her. I was so sick of people testing me and using me and shoving me head first into situations I didn’t want to be in. I took my arm back and covered Boden’s hand with my own. She winked and led us toward the back of the building.

Off the dance floor, the humans made it hard to maneuver without touching them. We squeezed past one of the two bars on either side of the club and down a wide hallway lit up with red traveling lights. Black paint rubbed and chipped off the middle of both walls as if drunks dragged themselves down this hall with only the walls for support.

Tahe walked with confidence and power, almost militant. She stepped through the last before the emergency exit. I paused in front of the open door, my eyes adjusting to the extra light. The two corners opposite the door glowed soft, encasing a long leather couch in yellow tones. Three women lounged across it in revealing bits of cloth and hose and fishnets and leather. Several other matching chairs sat about the room with one or two females filling each of them. Tahe went for a small blonde woman lighting and shutting a Zippo in the left corner chair.

As Tahe approached, the woman sat forward, face illuminated. She looked tough but pretty with a hollow look, but her eyes flashed with excitement as Tahe knelt and kissed the woman.

Everyone in the room moved in awareness shifting, sitting up, and some standing.

Boden fell away, taking guard at the door. He nodded for me to go ahead and do what I came for. I stepped forward into the middle of the room and peered around, unsure if they had a system in place or ran a free-for-all.

A darker woman in the far corner of the couch stood and made a steady approach, stopping within arm’s reach. Her black eyes shone with an angry need, and her gaze jumped around my face. I stopped fighting my fangs and let them drop, and the woman quivered and let out a soft moan of anticipation. Her blood thumped hard; I closed the distance between us. The woman tilted her head to the side braced herself against my shoulders. My tongue darted out across her salty throat.

She groaned and grabbed me harder. “Please.” Her rough voice set off a red flag, but I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. I pierced her vein, sucking hard on her blood. The woman gasped and gyrated against me. Her blood tasted like blackness, inky and bitter. I released her.

But she struggled to keep me against her, her body shaking more fiercely than I expected. “No. I have plenty more. Please. Please, take more.” Her nails dipped into my shoulder blades, and a hot, sharp pain tore into my skin.

I pushed her back, sending her flying into the couch. Spitting her blood onto the laminate floor, I met Tahe’s challenge.

“What do you do to these women?” I wiped my mouth, smearing bright blood against the back of my hand.

Tahe narrowed her eyes and stepped toward me. “I let them live. I ain’t a woman killer. The C.C. can pucker up and eat my damn rainbow for all I care. But you ain’t gonna hurt any of my girls.”

Not going to hurt them? Was she crazy? I looked over the girls again. Deep, black bags under circled their eyes, cheeks hollowed, and hair greasy. They looked like addicts.

A cold tremor zapped down my back. Had I done that to anyone?

“You don’t control them do you?” I met her gaze, and my skin prickled. Her eyes darkened. “You don’t control them. And now they’re addicts.” The inky blood stuck to the back of my throat. They used drugs in hope of achieving the same high, more and more until they became tainted and hollow.

“They enjoy giving me what I need, and they can keep a secret. Why should I have to control them? Break their minds? You ain’t no better than those fucked up vamps at the C.C.” She sprung toward me, angry energy sparking off her. I grabbed Tahe and spun her around, jerking her to the left and sinking my fangs into her throat. Rich and full like a strong malt whiskey, her blood washed away the bitter remnants. Tahe gasped as I swallowed my first mouthful of blood, her head dipping back further and her body arching against mine.

A low vibration started at the base of my spine, shooting up my body. Warm and subtle pleasure consumed me. Tahe’s breath hitched, but she didn’t struggle against me. Only her speedy heartbeat told me that the glamour affected her. It thrummed across my skin.

Warmth invaded my curls, and fingers guided me away from Tahe’s throat. I allowed Boden’s calming magick to pull me back as his thumb glided down the sensitive skin behind my ear. I released her, taking in the dark room. Awe slacked the staring faces around the room. Every thumping heart filled my ears. Their halting breaths raised a thick wave of desire.

Tahe stepped forward, wobbly from my magick and the blood loss, and her consort stepped forward to take hold of her. The small blonde woman looked me over with a harsh glare as I leaned back into Boden. His arms steadied me, and a sharp pang pinched my right hip and made me jump and swat at the bulge in my pocket before I realized my phone buzzed.

Boden slipped his hand into my pocket and pulled it out, swiping his finger across it as Gene’s name popped up. He held it to his ear. “What is red and green and can go hundred miles per minute?”

I reached for the phone, but Tahe pinned me with her gaze. “What’d you do to me? Ain’t no way this is normal.”

“Nothing I do is normal.” I tried to keep her in my line of vision and keep an eye and ear on Boden at the same time, this kind of multitasking proved difficult.

“You are supposed to guess, vinur, not expletive for me in Greek. She is with me, all pieces together, not to worry.”

Fuck. Gene is gonna have a freaking aneurism, and it’s going to be my fault.

A few of the women stepped to help Tahe up. “What kinda magick you got spinning around in that little body of yours?” Her gaze shifted from my face to my mouth to my throat, as if she played the cycle of biting through her mind. I didn’t know why I bit her to begin with, minus needing to wipe the black taste from my pallet.

Boden shifted, pacing in small circles in front of the door with a grin on his face. “Club. I am not from this place, so I cannot tell you. I take care of her, like I always do. Is what I am good at.”

This was not going well. Not at all.

“The kind that makes me dangerous, I suppose,” I said to Tahe, causing her gaze to fly back up to mine.

“Trying to intimidate me and all that? Ain’t gonna work, red. If my maker ain’t able, neither are you.” She shrugged off the women huddling closer and closer around her. “Off of me, would ya? Remember what I said about behind me if you’re scared. I ain’t gonna fight through ya very well.”

I smiled. She planned on protecting them from me, from anyone it seemed. I didn’t agree with what she did to them, but at least she cared for them. We’d have to talk about a way to keep them from killing themselves. “I’m not going to hurt any of you.”

“Look at what you did to Monique.” She grabbed the dark girl I bit and pulled her forward. She shook, her lips tinted blue and her eyes sunken in a bit more than before.

“I didn’t do that to her. You did. You let them remember, and they’re going to kill themselves trying to replicate the feeling.”

Boden laughed, and chills consumed me. He grinned with the phone pressed to his ear. “You have magick. Is good. I can feel over phone, even. Not too big affect from me, but still good. We meet. I show you mine.”

Uh. Oh.

Tahe looked at him, her big eyes luminous in the low light. “Is he retarded? You’re both fucking crazy. Ain’t none of this normal.” She addressed the women gathered behind her. “You’d better start vacating girls. I got a feeling this ain’t gonna be pretty.”

Yeah. Me either.

“Boden. Give me the phone, please.”

With a mischievous smile, he held up a finger. “You cannot track her? Is shame, vinur.”

“Boden.”

Women trickled through the exit door behind him, making him glimpse back at them as I reached my hand out for the phone, which he offered to me. “Is ended, Prinsessa. Greek vamp is on way over, I am sure.”

“You’ve tormented my mentor into coming to find us?” The black screen dropped anvils on my shoulders.

“No torment, Prinsessa. Good manly banter over female.” He reached out to touch my cheek, but I stepped back and stuffed the phone back into my pocket. Gene was going to skewer me and leave me out for the animals. “You fear for his place in your heart?”

The thought of that being true made my chest burn with anxiety and denial. “No. I’m afraid of the repercussions of the last half hour.”

“I will not let him hurt you.”

Tahe snorted further into the room, acquiring our attention. “You two ain’t got your heads on straight. Eugene is wound up tighter than a damn tornado. And my ass is finding shelter before that shit touches down.”

The door flew open, banging hard enough against the chair behind it that the heavy wood base of it cracked and splintered. Gene stepped through, his cobalt eyes sparking as he took in the room.

“Aw, fuck me.” Tahe retreated to a spot between the couch and the furthest chair.

My thoughts exactly.

Sneak Peek: Prologue of book two, BLOOD PHOENIX: CLAIMED

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alisha costanzo, aura, author, birth, blood phoenix, book, breasts, Broken World, claimed, cock, colista, gene, hips, magick, moan, moon, orgasm, pain, power, pregnancy, pregnant, romance, sex, sneak peek, spell, thrust, urban fantasy, vampires, writing

Prologue

Thick air pressed in on me, diluted only by small wisps of breeze and the scent of jasmine in the night air. Earlier in the night, I lit fire to a bowl of dried jasmine to calm the child within my belly. The night was warm enough, and my contractions frequent enough that I could not find sleep, even nestled in the strong circle of my husband’s arms.

My hair twirled teasing strands around my naked body as I stood with the moonlight, bathed in its power, which set my pale skin aglow. The moon swelled to a hair’s breath of being as full and round as my belly. My child would arrive soon. I found the anticipation unbearable. We had waited for a child since the night we laid together after our hand fasting, on the night of my twelfth birthday. Two days hence, I turn seventeen, old for my first child. I had thought myself barren.

He awoke. The bed rustled behind me in our tiny home. Seconds later, his wide warm arms wrapped around my shoulder and cradled my belly. His lips danced against the curve of my neck, sending small sexy shivers along my spine. Our child kicked at his hand, greeting his father. Satisfaction slipped over me. This would be the first child of, hopefully, many.

My husband took me by the hand and led me out into the silvery light, skyclad. His sapphire eyes made my body warm, the reaction to an innate mating call. I followed him in small wobbling steps, past our fire pit, and into the woods. A small, soft circle of grass greeted my bare feet with the gentle whisper of a song. Gene pulled me to the center of the clearing and helped me to sit with an arm around my hips and his hand over mine.

He walked to the far edge of the woods, reached within the brush, and stepped back to my side with a white marble bowl in his hands, our ceremonial bowl. Gene set it beside me and sat by my other side. Reaching his hand across my hips, he pulled my body onto his. His shaft lay hard against the swollen underside of my womb.

I straddled and rubbed my sex against him. His length bubbled need within me. With the slow movement of my hips, I took him inside my body and moaned at the way he stretched me to accommodate him.

Gene gently pushed his hips up to meet mine, pressed against my cervix, making my body convulse. His hips fell back to the grass, and he reached for the marble bowl. The deep curve of the marble collected a salve to prevent undue harm to both the baby and myself. Almond, black haw, wild lettuce, cinnamon, peppermint, and lavender swirled around my senses. Gene dipped three fingers into the soupy mix and spread a glob across the top of my belly.

I pressed my hips against his, and he shuttered beneath me.

He pushed back in small circles. His bow-shaped mouth smiling up at me. “Behave, Colista.”

The salve dripped over my navel, sending fuzzy little tingles through my flesh. The baby kicked against Gene’s hand as he spread the dizzy smell over me. He traced the symbol fehu, for good health, love fulfilled, and good fortune; uruz, for physical and mental strength, fertility, and new beginnings; gebo, for love, partnership, and luck; jera, for reaping rewards from seeds sown in the past, and joy and celebration; sowilo, for wholeness, light, energy, and victory; berkanan, for growth and new life; ingwaz, for unity, love, and peace; and othila, for home and family.

My whole body lightened with power, glowing from the inside. Gene grabbed my hips roughly, holding me above him as he finally thrust himself inside of me in a rhythm that made me quake. Oh Goddess, how could a man still feel as good inside me as he did the first time. I tried to meet his thrusts with my own, but he held me immobile with firm hands.

Freeing my hip of his right hand, Gene rubbed my cleft. I flung my head back, moaning, and my heavy breasts tightened with need. He finally allowed me to ride him free of restraint. I thrust myself against him so hard it hurt, but the pleasure rode the pain away. My life’s aura spread, embracing my husband beneath me. My sex spasmed and quivered around his length. I fell over onto my hands, panting as the explosion over took my legs and hips and sex. Gene shuddered with in me, sending an echo of my orgasm through me.

Pain enveloped me as my swollen belly shook. I gasped at the sharp, penetrating slivers tearing at my stomach. I screamed wordlessly at the moon. Gene rolled me onto my back.

“Breathe, Colista. Breathe. The Goddess has heard us and will make us wait no longer.” He brushed his hand across my forehead, smoothing away the hair from my eyes.

Chapter One coming soon!  

In the meantime, check out book one: Blood Phoenix: Rebirth