Dress Up, Dress Down with L.M. Brown: Falling into Darkness #MFRWAuthor

Falling into Darkness is a story that takes place over a lengthy period of time. And when I say lengthy I mean epic. The story begins shortly before Lucifer falls from Heaven and sets himself up against God, continues right up to the present day, and then on into the future. You’d think that would be a lot of costume changes for my guys, wouldn’t you? I’m afraid that isn’t the case. Much of this story is set in the realm of angels or in the Underworld, where clothing doesn’t move with the times. Michael and the other archangels like their comfortable robes too much to give them up. They are creatures of habit and quite set in their ways. The classic angel attire is what they wear most of the time.

In the Underworld, the domain of Lucifer and the demons, things are a little hotter and the robes have been discarded in favour of tunics, which are cooler to wear, but still very old-fashioned.

What both the angels and demons need to remember, is to change into modern clothing when they walk the Earth.  At some points in the story, this turned out to be a handy way to show the passage of time. The modern era, as we know it, was entered the moment Lucifer decided to torture Michael by dragging him round clothes shops. Since angels (and Lucifer) can change their clothes with  nothing more than a thought, it was an entirely unnecessary venture, but it did help highlight the time period for the reader.

So there you have it, my angels are mostly dressed in typical robes of a bygone era, but with the power of a thought, they can blend into any culture by donning the appropriate garments. A handy power to have, I’m sure you’d agree.

Falling into Darkness by L.M. Brown

A Male/Male Romance

Blurb

Their love could save the soul of a fallen angel or damn an archangel to an eternity in Hell.

The realm of angels was created as a paradise where angels could watch over the earth as mankind took his first steps. For the archangel Michael, it is the only home he has ever known and he could never envisage another life. Michael’s life changes the day his path crosses that of the favoured son of the morning. From the moment he sees him, Michael wants Lucifer for his own. When the two angels come together the passion surprises them both.

Their love is forged in Heaven, but is doomed the moment Lucifer falls from grace to become the leader of an army of demons.

Separated by war, the former lovers know the time will come when they must face each other in battle.

Their confrontation will set in motion events that neither could have foreseen. For Lucifer it is the chance to persuade Michael to stand at his side, as his partner as leader of the demons. For Michael, it is a mission to save his lover’s soul, while risking his own.

Torn between his love for Lucifer and his duties as an angel, Michael walks a fine line, where one wrong step could result in his own fall from Heaven, and an eternity in Hell.

Excerpt

Across the table from him, Gabriel’s jaw dropped in apparent surprise as he stared at something over Michael’s shoulder.

Next to him, Raphael twisted in his seat and his expression morphed into one of shock too.

Michael wondered what might be happening behind him, yet he couldn’t move a muscle to see for himself. His spine tingled and he had the strangest sensation someone was staring straight at him.

“What is it?” he whispered, and in the silence of the room even his quiet question seemed obnoxiously loud.

“The son of the morning,” Gabriel murmured as he set Michael’s plate back in front of him with a shaky hand. “Lucifer.”

Michael must have misheard. Lucifer never came into the communal areas of Heaven. He, along with the other favorites, remained solitary, rarely associating with the rest of the angels, and never in a crowded setting such as this.

Slowly, barely able to draw breath, Michael faced the entrance.

Lucifer stood in the archway, the morning sun behind him. There could be no mistaking his silhouette for that of another.

In the brightness of the light, Michael couldn’t tell what Lucifer searched for, at least not for sure. Only his instincts told him Lucifer had eyes for him, and him alone.

Slowly, Lucifer strolled into the room. Every angel in his path stepped aside to let him pass. Some bowed their heads respectfully, but he didn’t acknowledge their deference in any way.

Finally he arrived at Michael’s table and came to a halt.

“Good morning,” Lucifer said.

“I…” Michael mumbled, once again silently cursing his ineptitude.

“I see you still have trouble forming sentences,” Lucifer commented. “Let us hope you can manage more than a single word by this evening.”

“Er…”

Raphael gathered his wits together first and rose to make a sweeping bow. “Great angel, welcome to our table. Won’t you join us and partake of the fruits?”

Lucifer spared the archangel a momentary glance. “I have already eaten this morning.”

Raphael didn’t seem to know what to say, so he sat back down with a bump.

Lucifer returned his attention to Michael. “This evening, at sunset.”

“Where?” Michael asked, his voice croaking embarrassingly.

“Rumor has it your beach is quite pleasant.”

Michael nodded, not trusting his voice enough to try speaking again.

“Tonight then, Michael,” Lucifer said, before sweeping away in a flurry of robes, everyone once again stepping aside to make way for him.

“The son of the morning knows your name?” Gabriel asked as soon as Lucifer had gone. “Is he the one you’ve been meeting each dawn?”

Michael ducked his head. “I wouldn’t say I was meeting him, exactly.”

“But you have been with him in the mornings?” Raphael pressed. “You kept that quiet.”

There would be no escaping the interrogation and Michael accepted he had to come clean.

“I couldn’t sleep one night and ended up walking through the lands to the north of here. I chanced upon Lucifer coming to the pool of jewels one dawn. It seems he visits there most mornings.”

“And you’ve been at the pool with him,” Gabriel concluded.

“I wouldn’t say with him,” Michael mumbled. “I just happen to be in the area at the same time.”

“Just happen?” Raphael chuckled and leaned in to whisper. “I heard a rumor that when Lucifer is diving for jewels he disrobes completely.”

Michael’s face heated again.

Gabriel roared with laughter. “You’ve been spying on Lucifer?”

“I wouldn’t call it spying,” Michael replied.

“But everyone else would,” Raphael teased. “Oh, Michael, what would we do without you to keep us entertained?”

Raphael and Gabriel laughed and teased him for a little while longer, until Gabriel asked the question that had been bothering Michael ever since Lucifer’s appearance.

“If all you’ve been doing is ogling him, how did Lucifer know your name?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I projected it telepathically without realizing.”

“Or maybe he’s been watching you too?” Raphael suggested.

Buy Links

Pride Publishing - https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/falling-into-darkness

Falling into Darkness will also be available at Amazon, All Romance Ebooks and other online stores from 13^th December 2016.

Bio

L.M. Brown is an English writer of gay romances. She believes that there is nothing hotter or sweeter than two men in love with each other… unless it is three.

When L.M. Brown isn’t bribing her fur babies for control of the laptop, she can usually be found with her nose in a book.

Links

Where to find L.M. Brown

Website & Blog – http://lmbrownauthor.wordpress.com/

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/L.M.Brown.author

Twitter - @LMBrownAuthor

Mistletoe Hop: Naughty All the Way

Have you been a naughty author or a nice author? Which is more fun?

Is there ever a year where we are completely naughty or nice? I've never had one. In fact, I can't even decide which was the higher percentage this year. After all I didn't finish Wolves, my work in progress. That's clearly naughty, isn't it? But I did finish and publish After Midnight. It's a novella, prequel to my novel House of the Rising Son. It sheds some light on the mothers of Cheyenne's children.

Nice, right?

On the other hand, I entered Nanowrimo--National Novel Writing Month--but I did not "win". So that was naughty. But I'm much closer to finishing a novel that has been on my mind recently. Totally nice.

I suppose that means I've been naughty AND nice. As for which is more fun for me...I'm an author who writes about sexy, rebellious, incubus rock stars. What do you think?  #naughtyalltheway

~~~~~~

OOOH! A HOLIDAY GIVEAWAY!

Interested? Sign up for my newsletter here to be eligible to win a free copy of After Midnight! 

~~~~~

After Midnight

Prequel to House of the Rising Son

Living After Midnight Series

Genre: Urban Fantasy (LGBT)

Improbable love. Impossible life. Immeasurable danger.

Jewell’s stepfather thinks she’s worthless. She agrees. When she looks in the mirror she sees an overweight, overemotional, overeating mess who can’t keep her fangs to herself.

Ria hails from a family of old world vamps who'd be happy to share their wealth with her, if only she’d fall in line. Fat chance, especially since being in that line includes not being gay.

Being in love is easy for Ria and Jewell—the young vampires belong together like vodka and tomato juice. Adding Cheyenne, a talented and sexy incubus, to their union is the hot sauce in their Bloody Mary. The only problem? Vampires and incubi are mortal enemies.

Despite the odds Ria, Jewell and Cheyenne find their way to happiness. But Jewell is hiding a huge secret, one that defies the laws of procreation: She’s going to have a baby.

While she tries to figure out how to break the unbelievable news to her lovers, a horror from Jewell’s past slithers into her present, forcing choices no one should have to make.

Will it be love or death? Happiness or safety? She has until dawn to decide...and it's already After Midnight.

~~

Excerpt:

The choice between staying in on a Saturday night to clean and going to see Cheyenne at his first real gig hadn’t been a complicated decision. He was a world-class rocker who could play the guitar like a fiend and had a voice that made you feel…everything. Or made you horny. And fuck if she didn’t love him. Damn incubus.

She reached across him and caressed Jewell’s side. Jewell’s eyes opened and she stared expressionless at the ceiling, hyper-alert to danger. It always took a few moments after resurrecting for her to remember where she was and who was with her, but since moving into their new home it seemed to take even longer.

Ria sighed. She’d do anything if it would help Jewell feel safe enough to die each dawn and awaken peacefully. “All is well, Babydoll. It’s just me. Time to rise and twinkle with the stars.”

“Already?” Jewell scrunched her eyes and blinked as if trying to focus them.

Cheyenne lay his head on the soft swell of Jewell’s belly. “Didn’t we just go to bed?”

Ria kissed his back and licked a slow trail down his spine. “Hours ago. Did we tucker out the poor little sex demon?”

“Not hardly, dead girl.”

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and turned him to face her. “That’s undead girl, thank you.” She bit his lower lip and let it drag between her teeth. “Show us what you’ve got left.”

~~

You can find After Midnight at Amazon

About Trevann

Trevann Rogers writes urban fantasy and LGBT paranormal romances. Her books include HOUSE OF THE RISING SON and its prequel novella, AFTER MIDNIGHT. Trevann's stories incorporate an unquenchable addiction to music and her love for vampires, Weres, incubi and rock stars. Like these elusive creatures, Trevann learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After Midnight.

You can find Trevann online at:

www.trevannrogers.com

www.facebook.com/trevannr

www.pinterest.com/trevannr

Twitter: @TrevannRogers

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Nano? Oh, no!

The November page of my calendar has DO NOT EVEN THINK OF DOING NANO written in big black letters. But did I listen? No, of course not. But this year I am trying something different.

If you read Chris Baty's first book, the original concept was to sit down on November 1st and write until you hit 50,000 words. No plotting, no prep...just write. Clearly things have changed since then.Today's Nano participant approaches it very differently. There are numerous books and workshops on how to prepare for November. By October 31st, we are allowed to have outlines, lists of scenes, a synopsis and any number of planning tools.

I joined a local Nano group and have gotten many suggestions for how to survive the month. They even have a solution of sorts to my particular problem. You see, I do well until Thanksgiving when we have week long house guests from out of state. Some suggested "reverse nano" which is a fascinating concept. You start writing on day one and write 3346 words. Then as the month goes on, you write fewer and fewer words. I like the idea but I am still not sure I can write 3000+ words a day for a couple of weeks.

So, my goal is 50,000 words. I will use every suggestion from the group that I can. I do wish I had known earlier so more planning could be done before November 1st. But winner or not, one thing I do know is that I will have more words toward a new novel than I had when I started.

See you in December.

Fall in Love With New England!

This weekend I'll at the Fall in Love with New England Reader event in Manchester, New Hampshire. I'm excited to meet everyone and talk about books we love.

Our first gathering is an apple social.Although I'm no culinary genius I do manage to cook up something good once in a while, like my apple pie baby s.If you like them too, here's the recipe:

Ingredients 1 package sugar cookie mix 1 egg 1/2 cup butter, melted 3/4 of can of apple pie filling 2 tbs brown sugar ground cinnamon to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Butter a 8 x 8 in baking dish. In a mixing bowl, combine sugar cookie mix, egg and melted butter. Mix and set aside 1cup.

Press the rest of the dough into bottom of pan. Spread apple pie filling over it.Take reserved cup of dough and break up into small pieces.Sprinkle on top of filling.

Combine brown sugar and ground cinnamon. Sprinkle on top of dough. Bake for 30 minutes or until edges are brown and dough is cooked through. Depending on your oven this could take longer!

If desired, serve with ice cream!

Where It Begins: Writing a Prequel

At first glance it would seem that writing a prequel would be easy. After all, the outcome is known. The problem is how much and what needs to be included to tell the story. After Midnight, prequel to House of the Rising Son, had a particular problem. Cheyenne is introduced in HOTRS as a single father of two children. You, the reader, asked who and where were their mothers.

Of course I know. I have the backstory. I know why the children are with him. But I presenting their mothers, Ria and Jewel, as women/vampires who love their children AND care for Cheyenne was tricky. They didn't easily give up the kids. They made the tough decision to part with their children as a matter of safety. The children's safety.

Obviously After Midnight was not a book that would have a Happily Ever After ending. But a Happy For Now between Ria and Jewell was necessary. So the story ended at a moment of joy for them.

It was an interesting novella to write. I hope it supplies some answers to readers and perhaps raises questions about when and where the moms reappear. As for the actual transfer of the children to Cheyenne, that story will come. When they make their next appearance Ria and Jewell will tell us.

After Midnight is available on Amazon. 

Dress Up, Dress Down with Marie Dry

Happy Friday! Let's welcome Marie Dry to the LAM Blog today, talking about her book, ALIEN BETRAYED. ********************************

NAKED ALIENS AND CLOTHES DOING DOUBLE DUTY

I thought it was really amusing, doing a blog about my characters clothes. Why? Because mostly I forget to put clothes on them. I literally have to go in afterwards and make sure they’re not running around naked. In the process I learned a lot about the function clothes serves in a story.

The first editor at Black Opal Books who worked on Alien Mine thought the Aliens in the Zyrgin Warriors series walked around naked. I was shocked that she could miss the wonderful description of their uniforms, loaded with weapons that became the size of pennies when placed in their pockets. Then I went searching for the specific paragraph where I described it. It wasn’t there! I had to go in and put clothes on them. I was mortified, this was my first book to be published and I did something so careless. The worst part was that I could see their clothes so clearly and knew the function they served and it only happened in my mind. And I managed to forget to put it down on the manuscript.  I knew from the beginning that their clothes were made of some really strong material with some amazing properties, allowing them to simply step out of their shoes without using laces and their uniforms were developed to withstand most weapons. I wanted their clothes to juxtapose their primitive joy in battling with swords. To illustrate that this was a culture with advanced technology even though they come across as rather primitive in their ideas.

After that I went and checked a contemporary I’ve been fiddling with and yip, no clothes. Once again the heroine’s clothes were clear in my mind, but not on the page. She’s a rather frumpy dresser and much more interested in developing her mind than her fashion sense. To make matters worse, her way of looking at herself and what she wear through the book, illustrate her acceptance of herself as a beautiful woman by the end of the book. Or it would have if I’d just taken the time to really describe her clothes. Since I made the changes and ensured that the clothes mirrored her development the story has improved.

What I learned from this was that clothes can illustrate aspects of the character, they can show the technological stage of development of a civilization or poverty or riches, it can illustrate the characters jobs or lack of jobs. In other words, clothes has their own job to do in a story. They can also do absolutely nothing if the author, namely me, don’t use it as a tool.

Mary Buckham wrote an excellent craft book. Active Settings by Mary Buckham. I cannot recommend this enough. She has examples that illustrate what I tried to say above. Here is a link to amazon to her book. A Writer's Guide to Active Setting

Thank you for inviting me to write for your blog. I’m off to make sure my Gargoyle is wearing clothes and not running around Cape Town naked.

More about Marie

All her life Marie Dry has read romances and was fairly young when she decided she would travel the world and write the perfect story that had all the elements she looked for in a romance. In 2007 after living in Morocco for four years and back in South Africa, she shared a pizza with a friend and promised to go all out with her writing and to work at getting published. In 2014 her first book was published by Black Opal Books. Two more books has since been published and a fourth contracted.

There are several wonderful moments in her life that she would never trade for anything. One of them is meeting President Nelson Mandela and the second being published.

www.mariedry.com

Marie's Amazon Page

Find Marie on Goodreads

BOOK BLURB

ALIEN BETRAYED

In a bleak and apocalyptic future, where the Zyrgin Warriors are getting ready to conquer Earth, Marcie is sent to infiltrate the alien stronghold in the Rocky Mountains, only to be betrayed by her own people. Instead of stealing the alien’s technology and accomplishing her mission of causing mayhem and destruction among them, she is captured by Larz, an arrogant alien, who wreaks havoc with her heart when he insists that she will be his woman. Still, he may no longer want her when he discovers her secrets…ones she doesn’t even know she has.

EXCEPT: CHAPTER 1

Larz clasped the training sword with both hands and swung it in a wide arc around his head, conquering his favourite patch of the Rocky Mountains.This was the closest a Zyrgin warrior came to the human emotion of joy. The sword fit his hand like an extra limb. His body moving with strength and fluidity gifted to him by generations of the strongest blood on Zyrgin. Still swinging, he moved the sword to his left and then his right hand, increasing his speed until his movements became a blur.

Every day after his warrior duties, he came to this rocky patch on the mountain.Practiced to ensure he was worthy and ready for the day the leader of all Zyrgin territories would give him his sword of honor. That was the moment all warriors lived for. When their leader, who they called The Zyrgin, gifted them with a sword that would respond to the touch of a certain warrior only. Warriors from a strong bloodline, and some warriors born stronger,received swords that, with the aid of technology, could be made to shrink to nearly invisible size. To the enemy, it looked as if they disappeared and appeared as if by magic.

Many warriors used their cloaking technology to make it seem as if they had received such a sword from The Zyrgin. Larz knew he’d never have to resort to such measures. He was from The Zyrgin’s bloodline, descended from the strongest Zyrgin that ever ruled.

Larz lunged sideways then stepped back, performing the sequence of the warrior conquering with his sword with ease. Instinctively compensating for the uneven boulder strewn patch he stood on. Though his movements were swift and smooth, as a warrior’s should be, today he performed without his usual fierce concentration.

Worry for his human occupied his mind. Months ago, shortly before his second change, he claimed Marcie as his breeder after they rescued her from a raider camp. Everyone else called her a loud, mean woman with ugly red hair. Not a day went by without one of the warriors offering to kill her or bring him a better human. When he looked at her, he saw his breeder. A woman he’d never give up.

If he claimed her after he went through his third change, it might mean he had to give up his need to do battle in their wars, to serve on the Zyrgin homeland. The friend of Natalie and Julia, Sarah had disappeared more than a year ago and it had taken many months to find her in a raider camp. She had been starved and bruised and told them Marcie was responsible for many of the things that happened to her in that camp. They may have rescued Marcie from a raider camp, but they were certain she was sent to infiltrate them. Her attitude made her very unpopular. Shortly after they brought her to their guesthouse, she’d tried to hurt Sarah and Sarah had been moved to live with Natalie. Larz had to go through his third change soon, or he might not be able to claim her.

From the time the first Zyrgin ruled, millions of centuries ago, Zyrgin warriors were not allowed to claim a breeder before their third change. It was a strange knowing each warrior carried within. Larz turned and decapitated an imaginary enemy behind him. His third change was months away, and he needed to claim Marcie before she got herself killed.

He stumbled and compensated for the uneven rock beneath his boots. Adding challenge to his workout, he closed his eyes. A warrior who owned a foul-mouthed human had to be prepared for anything.

This barren patch of the alien planet he was born on, this little piece of earth, always drew him. On the hard rock, where no trees grew and no reintroduced wildlife ventured, he was reminded of his home planet. Out here, with the exotic earth sun shining down on him, he could think about claiming a strangely compelling woman with a mean mouth and ugly red hair. Make plans for keeping her safe from the consequences of her actions.

Zorlof, his brother, ran up to him, his pre-second change body small, but stronger than that of a human male. Their doctor couldn’t explain why he took so much longer than Larz to go through his second change, but all indications were that he would be very strong once it did happen. Zyrgin warriors were born with the knowledge of battle, with strength in their small bodies. With each change their knowledge and strength grew. In Zorlof’s case, he suspected that strength and knowledge might be much stronger in him than the average warrior. Even taking into account their strong bloodline, Zorlof was taller and stronger than any pre-second change warrior born for centuries.

Zorlof easily leaped over a few boulders and increased his speed until he skidded to a halt in front of Larz.

“Marcie tried to kill Zanr to get to Sarah. She screamed she’d kill Sarah the whole time,” Zorlof said.

The mountain blurred around Larz and noise rang in his ears. Like their ship’s klaxon, instead of danger to the ship, it heralded danger to his human. Larz sank down on his knees and leaned his head on his sword. “That human will drive me to Solarian drink.”

If she had simply gone after Zanr, they would’ve laughed at the idea of a human woman trying to overcome a Zyrgin warrior. No warrior would give an attack from a human woman any serious attention, beyond ensuring she didn’t hurt herself. Threatening the Zyrgin’s breeder? Larz might not be able to save her.

His time was up. He had to choose between Marcie and being a warrior and probably his life. Give up everything that defined him to save that female who had no concept of honor. He didn’t understand her mean nature and why she hated Sarah this much? If she was sent to infiltrate them, wouldn’t it make more sense to befriend them?

Larz closed his eyes and prayed for patience. Would the woman never stop putting herself in danger? When he claimed her, he’d make sure she understood that such behavior would have severe consequences for her. Ever since they rescued Marcie from the raider camps six months ago, she’d angered every human and Zyrgin who came into contact with her.

Dress Up Dress Down with Abbey MacMunn

Today we're joined by Abbey MacMunn, who is here to talk about characters from her debut release. Welcome to LAM, Abbey! ***************

Hello, my name is Abbey MacMunn and I write paranormal/fantasy romance. Today I’d like to talk about my debut paranormal romance, TOUCHED.

My main character, Cami Wilson, hates being cold, so naturally the story takes place during a winter month in England – sub-zero temperatures, biting winds, and a magical blizzard thrown in for good measure. When Joseph Carlisle first meets her, she’s wearing a thick winter coat and fur-lined boots – “all padded coat, messy hair and innocence” is how he describes her.

Cami prefers to wear casual clothes: jeans or leggings, topped with a baggy jumper two sizes too big to hide her bum, which she thinks is too big—Joseph thinks it’s the peachiest arse he’s ever seen.

Joseph is an immortal guardian – he doesn’t feel the cold. His attire is casual too: faded black T-shirt and worn jeans.

Here’s a scene from Touched, written from Joseph’s point of view. 

A few minutes later Cami returned, dressed as though embarking on an Arctic expedition instead of a stroll around the Manor. The black leggings were gone, replaced with dark blue jeans—a bit of a shame since he kind of liked those skin-tight leggings. But he had to smile at the enormous padded coat and fur-lined boots, complete with gloves, a woolly hat and a ridiculously long scarf wrapped three times around her neck. The whole ensemble made her look twice the size, and three times as charming.

She frowned. ‘What?’

‘You warm enough?’

Frown turned to grin as she glanced down at her clothes. ‘I don’t like being cold.’ She untangled her long hair from under her scarf before going over to Nana to kiss her cheek. ‘Won’t be long, Nana. Love you.’

‘Love you too, darling, and don’t hurry on my account.’ Nana lowered her voice but Joseph still heard her whisper, ‘He likes you just the way you are, Bridget.’

Cami laughed, clearly sharing a private joke they thought he wouldn’t understand.

‘You ready?’ He didn’t let on he knew what movie she’d quoted. ‘We should get an hour or so before the sun goes down.’

‘Great, let’s go,’

Joseph held the door open to the corridor.

Nana flapped her arms. ‘Hurry up you two, you’re letting in the draft. I swear penguins would be at home out there.’

‘Bye, Nana,’ he said, chuckling. Once they were alone he couldn’t help making a comment. ‘You and Nana have a thing for rom-coms do you, like Bridget Jones’s Diary?’

She looked surprised. ‘You heard that?’

‘Yeah, Nana’s whisper was kind of loud, even without the immortal hearing,’

‘Sorry, subtlety is not one of Nana’s strong points,’

‘So you’re a bit of a romantic at heart?’

‘I don’t know. I could be…’ She blushed and headed down the stairs. ‘With the right kind of guy.’

‘And what kind is that?’

Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. ‘I think you know what kind,’

His pulse rate quickened, and so did his footsteps as he followed behind her.

TOUCHED is available now.

Amazon.com

Amazon UK

Smashwords

Apple

Kobo

Nook

Blurb:

When inquisitive antique dealer Cami Wilson learns she’s the revered offspring of an immortal mother and a mortal father, it’s not just her hybrid status that has her all flustered. The title comes with her very own super-sexy guardian.

Jaded immortal Joseph Carlisle has only one thing on his mind; his sworn duty to protect the hybrid from those who wish her harm. Anything else would be complicated. That is until they meet.

Chemistry sizzles between them but there’s a problem—the hybrid’s curse. Cami’s touch, skin to skin, proves near fatal to her and all immortals, Joseph included.

But the fated lovers discover her curse is the least of their concerns when a friend’s deadly betrayal threatens to tear them apart forever.

Binge Watching #Stranger Things: A #Review

I never seem to have time to watch a show while it's playing in real time. Consequently, I occasionally fall victim to binge watching. My latest is the Netflix series, Stranger Things. I saw the trailers and meant to watch but—no surprise here—I forgot. That is, until my nephew connected with me to tell me his opinion. He said the acting is good, the cinematography and music are “leaps and bounds ahead of other shows”, and the story is so good each episode feels like a movie. Since we tend to like similar things, I knew I had to try it. I watched the first episode and was hooked. I didn’t stop until I’d devoured the entire season.

My nephew was right. It was a beautiful show with gorgeous camera work and music that set a mood so well it was as if I was in the scene with the characters. But reflecting on the experience, I think if I’d I watched one episode each week I may have gotten bored and wandered off like I have with so many other shows—Beauty and the Beast, Legends of Tomorrow, Haven, to name a few.

On the surface, Stranger Things seemed to have huge flaws. Too many one dimensional adult characters—the doctor, the government agents, the police, the ex-husband. Most of the acting was so over the top it verged on parody—including Winona Ryder, who I’ve respected for years.The teenage drama storyline would have been hard to watch if it had dominated any episode. And at various places I thought, “Oh they're redoing Species, or ET,” or now that I think about it, any number of sci-fi tropes we’ve seen hundreds of times.

Worse, some of the twists and turns were illogical. For instance, the main character, Mike Wheeler (played by Finn Wolfhard) turns on the young girl (the one he’s risking a lot to help) for protecting him. Who does that? Or poor Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin) a character so gratingly negative I kept wishing the monster would get him. Thankfully we had Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) who was completely adorable and softened my reaction to the others.

Another clear bright spot in the show was young Eleven, played by Millie Bobbie Brown. Her expressive face (and acting chops that belie her age) made me care about her despite the plodding backstory that was explicitly designed to make her sympathetic. I also connected to Jonathan (Ryder’s oldest on, played perfectly by Charlie Heaton). These two, along with Gaten, are the reasons I watched episode after episode. I plan to watch the show again to figure out how they brought these young protagonists to life and what hooks kept me glued to my seat for eight hours.

Eight hours? Remind me to never admit that again.

The Setting Thesaurus Books Are Here!

As a reader I’m one of those people who skip ahead when I see long sections of description of anything—setting, sex, fights---because I find most to be boring and/or repetitive. As a writer sitting down to pen my first novel, HOUSE OF THE RISING SON, I struggled with description because I didn’t want MY scenes to be boring and/or repetitive. I found myself falling back on my favorite words and style. I also tried to find just the right nuances for the feelings that my characters experienced. I was thrilled to discover the first editions of the thesaurus series by Angela Ackerman, and Becca Puglisi. I found myself referring to these books over and over to help add variety to my work. I credited The Emotion Thesaurus: A Writer's Guide to Character Expression with helping me to bring my characters to life. I'd hope there would be more from these amazing writers.

Well, there's some good news on this front. Two new books have released this week that may change the description game for writers. The Urban Setting Thesaurus: A Writer's Guide to City Spaces and The Rural Setting Thesaurus: A Writer's Guide to Personal and Natural Spaces look at the sights, smells, tastes, textures, and sounds that a character might experience within 225 different contemporary settings. And this is only the start of what these books offer writers.

In fact, swing by and check out this hidden entry from the Urban Setting Thesaurus: Antiques Shop.

And there's one more thing you might want to know more about....

Becca and Angela, authors of The Emotion Thesaurus, are celebrating their double release with a fun event going on from June 13-20th called ROCK THE VAULT. At the heart of Writers Helping Writers is a tremendous vault, and these two ladies have been hoarding prizes of epic writerly proportions.

A safe full of prizes, ripe for the taking...if the writing community can work together to unlock it, of course.

Ready to do your part? Stop by Writers Helping Writers to find out more!

Grumpy is an Understatement

My day jobs are often stressful. Periodically, they can become exceptionally stressful and if it happens in both jobs at once I'm on the edge. This has been one of those months. However bad I think I have it, it's nothing compared to what my partner experiences having to deal with me on a daily basis. Besides all of the above, I'm moody and emotional. Dancing with the Stars makes me cry. Commercials bring tears to my eyes. I've been known to completely break down over an episode of Supernatural. There are days I crawl into my head, contemplating the fate of the universe--or of our mudroom. Add the sudden, unexpected death of Prince and the GrumpymoodOmeter ratchets up to 12 on a 10 point scale.

Last night I apologized for a dozen ways I've been a grump, and told her I'm grateful for the sun she shines into my life. She smiled and said that all of the things I apologized for are the reasons she cherishes me. She reminded me I've said the same to her from time to time, and, in truth, what we both are is human and loved.

Maybe grumpy is an overstatement after all.

It Was Always Love

A wall in my bedroom

I'm a writer. There has always been something cathartic in telling a story. So in the midst of incredible sadness I am sharing my story with you.

My partner says that she went to the movies with a friend one day to see whatever show happened to be playing and ended up seeing Purple Rain, a movie that changed her forever. From that moment on she was obsessed--still is--and thanks Prince for much of the joy she's had in her life.

My path was not as direct. He had to touch my life three times before I listened.

1979

Thank you for a funky time, call me  up...

On my way to high school driving the first of two cars given to me by my father, the song I Wanna Be Your Lover came on. The music was okay, but the lyrics made my head spin. Chock full of double entendres (I wanna be the only one to make you come...running), I couldn't get it out of my head for days. But trying to balance my perfectionist compulsion with wanting to fit in with my peers had turned high school into a three year long hurricane for me. I had a hard enough time holding on to my shit--I couldn't add one more thing to my burden.

1984

Somebody please tell me what the hell is wrong

The second time I became aware of Prince was when Purple Rain came out. I was newly married and in an unfamiliar place with no friends. I don't have memory of going to or being in the theater (my memory often fails me when it comes to very emotional moments), but I remember  buying a beta max copy of the movie as soon as it came out. I coveted that fat short rectangular box (I still have it), but for reasons I can't explain, I never watched it.

The third time, as they say, was the charm.

1987

In my darkest hour, you can be my bliss

I took a job two hours away from my home and my husband and lived with my mother. I had a great time. I loved my job, had some adventures with my mom (like driving 45 minutes to buy a pizza that boasted cheese UNDER the sauce, not over it), and spent time with my sister and brother and their families. Moreover, every other weekend I honeymooned with my husband. Life moved along pretty smoothly.

Except at night. I started having nightmares. At first they came infrequently, and I barely remembered them. As time went on they grew more frequent and more horrifying. Eventually I had bad dreams every night. There seemed to be two themes--black roses and elevators. Black rose dreams woke me up crying.  Elevator dreams were worse.

I know now that I was reliving sexual abuse I'd experienced as a child. I was in the same room, largely unchanged--the purple walls I'd begged for, music and academic awards (evidence of my hyper-vigilent perfection), and the bed. The bed.

Any time I was alone with my thoughts I thought about dying. What death would feel like. All the years of my nephews and nieces lives that I'd miss. Pieces of my nightmares started to come to me during the day. I searched continually for distractions, trying to save myself. One day I saw an ad in the newspaper about an upcoming Prince concert. I remembered his movie and that song, and how they made me feel. I really wanted to go, but not alone. My sister told me her husband was a big fan (her, not so much) and that he'd probably go with me if I had my heart set. He did.

October 1988

Do you want him, or do you want me?

We had tickets in the Nosebleed Section because we'd gotten them so late, but it didn't matter. The entire arena was filled by the presence of the little, ethereally beautiful man on the stage. I was captivated--couldn't take my eyes off of him. But the music transformed me. He sang of love and sensuality and peace and God and sex. His voice resonated, reverberated throughout my body. I sometimes make a joke, saying if he'd asked me that night for all of my worldly possessions I would have given them to him. But it was the truth.

The next day I went to every record store I could find and bought every tape Prince had ever released. I drove around for hours listening to his music. He didn't become "the soundtrack of my life". He became my reason to keep living.

1991

I want to jump for joy and thank him I'm not alone

I'd gotten a bigger and better job and moved back with my husband. While stalking a record store (my new hobby), I came across Prince's official fan magazine, Controversy. Not only was it heaven on the page with big, color, never before seen pictures of him, but it had a pen pal section. Suddenly, I wasn't alone. I'd found my tribe--men and women who experienced Prince the way I did.  Miraculously, the first person I connected with became my partner. I like to say Prince gave her to me.

Present day

Can't begin to understand how I feel about you, everything I want to do I can't do without you

My life is filled with good friends who I connect with over songs and youtube clips, through marriages and divorce, through children and grandchildren, over the mountains that life put in front of our best efforts and under the bridges that we've fallen from. When we're happy, we listen to his music and watch his movies. When we're sad, we do the same. Since his passing, we cling to each other and assure ourselves we'll get through this, and that we'll find joy again.

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I've seen Prince in concert over one hundred times. I have every song he's released, and sometimes multiple versions thereof. My partner and I celebrate his milestones--birthdays, awards, performances. Our annual Super Bowl parties celebrate his 2007 award-winning appearance. Many of our milestones are commemorated with concerts that hold special meaning. There is not one room in our home in which he's not evident, either in fact or by influence. (We're still trying to figure out how to put the Shower Poster in the bathroom.)

My friends and I are asking questions of ourselves and each other. Where do we go from  here? Who will we be, if not Prince Fans? How will it feel to not look forward to his next album, the next concert, the next TV appearance?

The only answer is that his music is a part of us. It's in our cells and are the songs in the background of everything. Our experiences with him and because of him live on.

• Getting his autograph in NYC and almost fainting because we thought he'd levitated, a tiny angel dressed in white.
• Nearly being "rear-ended" by him in MPLS because he was driving too fast and we were going too slow.
• Hearing gunshot and fearing for our lives as we left Glam Slam, his former club.
• Flying to England for concerts and spending a sleepless night at the only after show I've attended.
• Going to his store in MPLS so many times the manager told his staff "Play whatever videos they want to see".
• Grieving with him, from a distance, when he lost his child.
• Meeting our pen pals. (LOVE YOU ALL)
• Standing outside at 2am in line for a show, with some of the craziest and friendliest people we've ever met.

Never say the words "They're gone"

The world is off its axis. I already miss him. My heart aches, and in quiet moments it's hard to breathe. I'm not ready to watch all of the tributes. I can't even listen to his songs without overwhelming sadness. But I'm ready, finally, to say a few things to him.

Dearest Prince,

I am ever grateful for the beautiful ways you've touched (saved) my life and for all of the people that are in it because of you. I'm thankful for your music which fuels my soul. 

There was no way you could have known, but it was always love. I've been blessed to have shared the planet with you.

I wish you heaven. 

#Supernatural: Unforgettable

After watching Supernatural last night, I realized there will be a fissure in my world when the show ends. The Winchester boys are fully developed characters with hearts and souls that bring them alive on the screen. Their lives and their stories connect with viewers, and although we all know they are fictional characters, we cry for them, cheer for them, grieve with them.

A writer's dream, by the way. I often wonder if any one connected with Chey and Zander so deeply. Years from now (and hopefully with a few more of their stories in the world), will anyone remember them the way the Winchesters will undoubtedly be remembered?

Last night, the deaths of both men were foreshadowed. First Dean thought Sam died. In order to try to save him, he overdosed on stolen drugs to have a chance at making a deal with a Reaper. In the process, he nearly died. Thankfully you don't get more resilient or bad-ass than the Winchester brothers. They both survived against harrowing odds--even managing to kill three werewolves in the process. A rush of relief came first, then the usual smile at their hard-won victory.

For a brief moment in time, however, we glimpsed three possible futures. Sam, dead. Dean, dead. Both brothers gone. It was...devastating. Is that how the show will end? Hard to say. As Jensen Ackles offered in an interview, it's either going to end tragically or not tragically. For me, no matter how it ends, it's going to be gut-wrenching.

And unforgettable.

#teamdean #supernaturalforever