Monday, October 31, 2011

Trick or Treat - it's time for Halloween!

Tonight the little ones will be running from door to door offering tricks, receiving treats (maybe some of the older ones too lol) on this special night known as Halloween! In the spirit of the occasion, I present you with some good looking guys in Halloween costumes. Enjoy!

Three cheers for our military men who work hard to protect us. I can see how hard this one works out! He's definitely soldier of the day!

Let's not forget the navy here. This costume is simple, but quite appealing. I'm not going to be the one to tell him to pull up his pants, are you?

Our boys in blue who protect and serve - who wouldn't want to have this guy come knocking at his door, looking for a Halloween treat?

The flip side of law is - what else? The gangster! This guy is looking rather spiffy, and makes crime look rather good!

For a wee touch of the Irish, here's your lad, a wearin' of the green. Though I wouldn't object if he chose to remove some of that green so we could get a better view of his shillelagh!

For you history buffs, I present this gladiator. If you're admiring his costume, you're looking down too far!

Who doesn't admire a well-dressed vampire? This one is certainly in full possession of his sartorial faculties! Wish you could see what's beneath his cape?  So do I?

Although, truth be told, there is one vampire who I believe to be the sexiest one of them all, and holds the key to my heart.

There you have them! Hope you enjoyed this little Halloween cavalcade! Be careful tonight, and have fun!

If you liked these guys, there's more over at Backdoor Divas!

And don't forget to enter my Halloween blog contest - one lucky winner will receive a copy of My Fair Vampire, my first release with co-author SL Danielson.  All you have to do is follow this blog and comment with your email address before the stroke of midnight!

Til next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Sci Fi Sunday - Leviathan Review

According to the bard, "Some men are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them". Young Alek is one of the latter.  Although born to a royal lineage, his claim to the throne is disreputed because of the lowborn status of his mother.  Which means nothing in the scheme of things, life simply going on as it invariably does,  until his parents are unexpectedly assassinated when they travel to Sarajevo, all hell breaks loose and nothing can ever be the same again, as he finds himself the object of an intense manhunt by the Germans and Austrians both, and all that he now possesses is one Stormwalker and a loyal crew of men between himelf and  certain death - and his own strength and intelligence!  Having been awakened in the middle of the night by his fencing master and his master of mechaniks on the pretext of a training mission, he is now in a deadly race to the Swiss border and the freedom of that country's neutrality in the face of impending war - a war which will change not only the shape of Europe but the whole world forever, a war of global proportions and magnitude never seen before.  Meanwhile, a young British girl named Deryn Sharp has disguised herself as a boy named Dylan in order to enter the British Air Service, finding herself upon the whale airship Leviathan, the most magnificent beast in the entire fleet, engaged upon a secret mission to the Ottoman Empire.  And thus we enter the world of Scott Westerfeld's Leviathan.


When Deryn begins her quest to enter the royal air service, she only wishes to serve as best she can, to be as useful as any lad, and not forced into what she considers to be the lame world of women, with their skirts and their cooking and their,  to her,  inability to do anything exciting.  Assisted by her older brother Jaspert, who is himself a member of said service, and who helps her to train toward her goal, she becomes a recruit and now must pass the midshipman's test, which is being given at the airship field at Wormwood Scrubs.  Her brother hints that the recruits will be tested on a sense of "air sense", but Deryn puts that down to his trying to rattle her cage, when lo and behold they find themselves shown an actual Huxley ascender - a tentacled creature, the first fabricated creature designed, a far cry from the modern giant living airships of the day, with their gondolas, engines and observation decks.  The Huxley, also known as a medusa, is formed from the life-chains of jellyfish and other venomous sea creatures, and is not an easy beastie to deal with.  When Deryn sees the pilot's rig which hangs beneath it, she has an idea what is going to happen, and when the Flight Captain thins their ranks of the Monkey Luddites - who wish nothing to do with the beast - and seeks a volunteer to be first to take the ride with the Huxley, Deryn does not hesitate to step up!  And what a glorious experience it is, until she is aloft and spots a storm coming their way which those on the ground cannot see, and she finds herself and the Huxley in a perilous situation, which only her quick wits and natural abilities prevent from becoming tragic!  In the course of her adventure, she is blown far off course, over the English Channel itself, and ends up being rescued by none other than the Leviathan!  She thinks she is dreaming when not only does she become Midshipman Dylan Sharp, but is assigned to duty on the very vessel which rescued her!

Meanwhile, Alek is finding it difficult to come to grips with the swiftly drastic changes that have occurred in his life, beginning with his parents' deaths, and his leaving his home in the middle of the night,  and even briefly wonders if he is being kidnapped for some reason.  When he first espies the six-legged majesty of the machine that is S.M.S. Beowulf, his first thought is that they have been searching for him, in order to effect his rescue, an idea which is quickly dispelled when they open fire upon Alek and his stormwalker, and he and his people are forced to flee for their lives!  Luckily, Count Volger is a resourceful man and has had an escape plan in place for a very long time.  When Alek asks, he confesses that he began planning it when Archduke Ferdinand married Sophie, a commoner, as they hole up in a ruin of a castle high in the Alps. In the meantime, Deryn is learning the ropes as a midshipman on the Leviathan, and their current mission has begun with the unthinkable - they have landed the huge ship in the middle of Regent's Park to pick up a boffin and her mysterious cargo, and are to take her to the Ottoman Empire for reasons unknown!  Because of the weight of this cargo, all but two of the middies are let go, and Alek ends up as almost a personal attendant for the boffin, Dr. Barlow,  who turns out to be a woman!  The woman is too sharp, by far, and Deryn fears for a moment that her secret is revealed, but she finds herself safe for the moment - just as German aeroplanes hove into view, and force the Leviathan into a snow mountain landing!  From his protected fortress, Alek espies the crash, and wishes to  help, but Volger refuses to allow him to do so, fearing for his safety.  A stubborn Alek slips out in the middle of night, taking first aid kits with him, in case they are needed - or is it just a curiousity to see what has happened?  As he nears the wreck of the strange beast/airship, he discovers the half frozen body of a young boy - none other than Deryn Sharp!  And in assisting Deryn, he finds himself a captive of the Darwinists, the avowed enemy of the Clankers!


Steampunk is a genre which contains elements of fantasy and sci-fi along with speculative fiction, and is generally set in an era where steam power is predominant, such as the Victorian era, and  often involves inventions being put into place before their true time, such as those found in the fertile imagiinations of HG Wells and Jules Verne,  or alternative realities where history has taken a different path.  It came to some prominence in the 1980's and 90's,  and enjoys a secure niche in the loyalty of its readers even today, and has even made the transition to the big screen in such films as The Wild Wild West and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.  Leviathan is set just on the cusp of World War I, and draws on actual events and people, interweaving them cleverly with the author's own imagination.  The British Darwinists have discovered the `life chains which make up all life, and have learned to combine the best of various species into entirely new creatures.  For example, the Leviathan itself is a symbiotic system which involves not only the whale but a host of other animals.  The bats, which feed on insects and fruit and  metal flechettes, are used as weapons, excreting the flechettes onto the enemy.  And bees have been bred which do not sting!  It is a natural system, as opposed to the world of the German and Austrian Clankers, which involves steam engine machinery and hydraulics.  The two words are clearly at odds with one another, so it is no wonder that a global conflagration is in the works.  And, as usually is the case, each sides believes their way to be right, while the other is totally wrong.  But when the two forces meet via the Leviathan, forced to become allies in the face of the common enemy that seeks to destroy them both, then there are indeed lessons to be learned, lessons in cooperation, and friendship and compromise.  By the end of the book, Deryn's secret identity is intact, but how long can that last when she had begun to have strange feelings about Alek?  What is she to do with those?  And how long will Dr. Barlow be clueless as to her actual gender?  And what is so important about the cargo that Dr. Barlow carries, that she is taking it to people who are professed Clankers?  Leviathan is categorized as teen fiction, but I think it possesses the same sort of universal appeal that the  Harry Potter  series does, and no one should be discouraged from reading it for that reason.  Teen Fiction is not what it once was, it has certainly grown, welcoming many excellent writers into its fold,  and certainly shouldn't be overlooked.  Scott Westerveld draws us into his characters' stories from the very beginning, and the skillful way he makes use of history is fascinating, bringing it very much to life.  After all, the things we do today are what the students of tomorrow will learn as history, and those who think it is a dead subject are sadly misinformed!   And lest I forget, the book is richly illustrated by Keith Thompson - his drawings take  my breath away, as he so wonderfully portrays the world which Scott Westervelt writes about!   I look forward to further installments of this series!

I wholeheartedly give Leviathan ★★★★★

Friday, October 28, 2011

Welcome to the Halloween Blog Hop!

Halloween is almost upon us, time to party hearty!  To that end, I'm having a contest! Want to win a PDF of my brand new release? My Fair Vampire? My first novel written with co-author SL Danielson.

You have until Midnight of October 31st, Halloween night, to enter - all you have to do is comment on a post between now and then, and follow this blog! Simple, right?

Then go for it! And click on the picture to see what Drea Becraft and the other writers on the blog tour are doing for their own Halloween pleasure!

Let me give you a little taste of what you'll get!

My Fair Vampire
by S.L. Danielson and Julie Lynn Hayes
now available from Silver Publishing 

In 1904, the world's spotlight shone brightly on St. Louis, Missouri—gateway to the West and host of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition. Visitors came from all points of the globe to wonder, to gape, to taste, to explore and to enjoy the marvels which the World's Fair had to offer. An ambitious young reporter from Utah, William Deming, sees his chance to not only visit the fair, but make a name for himself by reporting on its goings on. He takes a room in a boarding house, close to the Fair itself. What he doesn't count on is meeting Misha—a young and handsome Russian, whose aunt owns the boarding house.

Misha is something William has never encountered before—a vampire! As if that isn't enough to accept, when a man is discovered murdered at the Fair, William has to wonder if his Misha is involved. Especially as there seems to have been a connection between the vampire and the victim. Will an old flame cause new problems for William and Misha? Will they find love at the World's Fair? Or will theirs be doomed to be a fatal attraction?

May 6, 1904

The influx of new boarders was all due to the Louisiana Purchase Exposition, as St. Louisans opened their homes not only to friends and family who wished to visit the extravaganza, but to veritable strangers as well. Most had shortened it to World's Fair for the sake of brevity and lazy tongues. It was all anyone had spoken about for months, and Misha was sick to death of it already. He didn't find it wonderful at all. For him, it was a disruption in the quiet tenor of his life, and it was playing havoc with his nerves. Especially considering how close they lived to the hub of it all, to Forest Park itself—a mere short stroll away. The park had always been his haven, his place of quiet contemplation—and secret assignation. But for far too long now it had been the scene of noisy construction, and strange buildings with stranger purposes.

He would not admit, even to himself, to possessing a certain curiosity toward the whole thing. He tended to hold himself aloof from the people around him, and only associated with them on his own terms.

"Misha? Misha!"

He started, so lost in his own reverie he had failed to hear the voice of Mrs. Sims. He turned away from the window, the curtain falling back into place, obscuring the evening view, the strange glow of the unaccustomed electric lights which disrupted the night sky.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, although he had no real reason to apologize, the words falling automatically from his lips. His English was still flavored with his native Russian accent. Some of that had sloughed off as he had struggled to master this foreign tongue, but it remained thick. He would never be mistaken for a native, that much he knew.

The older woman gave him an astute look from behind her spectacles. She was fond of the young man, and protective of him. She thought he had a beautiful voice, and had persuaded him to read to her, on those evenings when he did not flit out the door in order to spread his wings. Where he went, she could only speculate, but she was not one to pry. She enjoyed hearing him read, and she knew that the practice was good for his language skills as well.

"Would you like tea?" he asked her politely, although he already knew the answer. They had fallen into a proscribed routine. He would prepare the tea for the two of them—the black Russian tea of his homeland, sweetened with lemon or sugar or jam—and they would sit together in the parlor, sipping the warm brew. Sometimes he would serve little biscuits with the tea, but he never indulged in these himself. He would read and she would listen. His attentiveness to the older woman was pleasing to his aunt, who was kept busy with the boarding house during the day, at times when Misha could not help her. She understood why that was, the necessity of his absence, and she appreciated that he did what he could, when he could.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Silver flash; Lust Never Sleeps 13 - In an Octopus' Garden

Happy Wednesday and welcome to another Silver Flash, brought to  you courtesy of the Flashers of Silver Publishing!  This week's Prompt Diva was Heather Lin, who gave us:  "That boy is a monster." or "This is better than a bagful of candy."  (her tribute to Halloween!). I gave these alternate prompts:

Use these three words:  red, buoyancy, terra cotta or Lovers such as I (my Richard Harris tribute) or "How dare you toy with my affections?"

Be sure to visit all the flashers and see what they've been up to! Their links follow my flash fiction!

This week, I continue with the saga of Lust Never Sleeps. When we last left our heroes, they were under attack!

Lust Never Sleeps 13: In an Octopus' Garden

There’d been other casualties, Darryl noticed, as the roadster/flying machine careened through the emptying cobbled streets. People whose bodies were stuck at strange angles, limbs twisted, faces contorted in painful grimaces. No one paid the dead any heed, racing past them in a blind panic.  Everyone that could was running for shelter: ducking into the nearest doorways or through open windows, racing down the steps into the tube stations, hiding beneath the thickest bushes they could find. Anything was preferable to remaining in the open, a visible target for the enemy.

Whomever that might be. That was one point on which Darryl had yet to be enlightened. And now did not appear to be a good time to ask.

He sat up front, as close to Sawyer as he could get, one hand upon the other man’s muscular thigh. Amandine and Brushton were crowded together in the narrow backseat. Darryl turned his head to find Sawyer’s ex clutching at her top hat, which appeared in imminent danger of blowing off. She glared at Darryl, eyes narrowed.

“What is it, sister dear?” Brushton asked. He had filled his pockets with food he’d filched from one of the wrought iron tables, and now he nibbled at it, while darting fearful glances about them.

“That boy is a monster!” she shrilled indignantly. “I’m telling you, he burned my hand…”

“The beast!” Brushton added his glare to Amandine’s, playing the dutiful brother. Even as he stuffed another handful of food into his face.

Darryl turned around again, ignoring her nonsensical tirade, his attention focused on Sawyer. He cast pensive glances up into the sky, but there was no sign of the little beasts, whatever they were. He couldn’t get Sawyer’s words out of his mind though: That was just the first wave. First of how many? Were they all like those vicious flying things? Or did something worse lurk in the wings?

“Do you and this… Elias person… not get along?” He leaned in to Sawyer, utilizing his need to whisper as a reason to do so. But truth be told, he simply wanted an excuse to inhale Sawyer’s fragrance, to reassure himself with the blond’s scent.

“No, we get along fine,” was Sawyer’s non-responsive response. He turned his head, and his lips met Darryl’s and any other questions he might have had fled from Darryl’s brain.
It was impossible to maintain any sense of his bearings in this strange place, what with all the twists and turns that Sawyer took, in and out of an assortment of side streets and alleys and unsavory looking thoroughfares. It was enough work for Darryl just to keep his balance. The more the car veered, the tighter he clung to Sawyer. He wasn’t complaining, although he could have wished it were under other circumstances. Naked circumstances, to be precise.

It wasn’t until the car took an unexpected turn, squeezing between two tall buildings that seemed to loom ominously closely on either side that they emerged at last alongside a river. This must be the docks Sawyer had spoken of. Now to find the safe house.

Sawyer parked the car in the shadow of one of the tall buildings. On close scrutiny, it seemed old and abandoned. In fact, the entire area looked distinctly uninhabited, Darryl realized. What sort of safe house were they going to?

Brushton jumped from the car as soon as it stopped, reaching his hand to assist his sister out of the vehicle. She dusted off the back of her trousers, regarding Sawyer with a certain amount of impatience. “Well? You don’t intend to sit there all day, surely?”

“Of course not,” he muttered. “Sorry to inconvenience you.”  He stepped out of the car, drawing Darryl after him. He kept him close, one arm tight about his chest at all times.

“Fah!” Amandine muttered, stamping her booted foot against the cobblestones. She glared at Darryl, before stomping off, Brushton close behind.

“I say, wait up, Sister!”

“Is she this way with all your… I mean… with all your lovers such as I?” Darryl tried to find the right words, before blurting out his question.

“Only you, lovie, only you.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad I’m so spec—“

Sawyer interrupted his sarcasm. He pulled Darryl to him, pressing their lips together so tightly Darryl quickly forgot where they were and what they were doing, until a well-aimed missile caught him in the back of his head and he pulled back with a yelp. They both glared in Amandine’s direction, but she gave them a guileless look.

“Come, love,” Sawyer sighed. “Can’t put off the inevitable forever.”

Amandine turned on her heel, stalking toward the docks in high dudgeon, Brushton at her side, Darryl and Sawyer following close behind. Darryl’s eyes surveyed the docks. They were old and rickety-looking. And quite empty. He was having qualms about this safe house. Where the deuce was it? There weren’t even any boats about—not a dinghy or canoe to be seen—which left out the idea that maybe the safe house was actually a houseboat.

The nearer they drew to the water, the murkier it looked. “What river is this?” Darryl asked.

“It’s the Lost River,” Brushton answered.

The Lost River, inside the city of Lust. Interesting.

“Why do they call it Lost?” Darryl asked.

Brushton shrugged. “I forget.”

“Because those who drink its water become lost in their own minds,” Amandine supplied.

Don’t drink the water. Important information to possess.

Shadows seemed to lurk just beneath the surface. As well as something of an unknown shape and size. Darryl peered at it, but the shifting darkness of the water served to obscure his vision.
“What is that down there?” he asked.

“The safe house,” Sawyer replied, just as the water began to bubble and the object in question broke the surface, bobbing alongside the dock.

Metallic, somewhat spherical in shape. As Darryl stared, a hatch opened, and a strange figure appeared.

“Ahoy maties! Welcome aboard!”

to be continued

Now go take a look at the other Flashers!

LM Brown   m/m

Thanks for stopping by, hope you had a good time! See you next week for another edition!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Monday, October 24, 2011

On the endurance of the human spirit and more

I think that on the whole I'm an upbeat positive person, although some argue with that statement. I believe in the quality of life, in my children, and my friends, and I believe in myself as a person, and especially as a writer. It was I was meant to do - it's who I am. But life happens to all of us, and sometimes we reach lows, and have occasional bad days. I guess sometimes you just need to bottom out before you can soar again. But watching QAF today made me realize the true strength of the human spirit, and that if you want something badly enough, you can make it happen, if you work at it.

Sometimes it seems as though my career is stalled, but I think that's just me panicking, because of being unemployed for over a year, and not a job prospect in sight. Everything in its time, everything in its time.

***** spoilers ahead****

So today I finished watching the fourth season of QAF, only the bonus material left to view. The boys are in Canada, participating in the Liberty Bike Ride, a charity event to help the hospice, which is in serious trouble after the dickweek corporate sponsor backed out. Brian manages to get a $100k pledge from one of his clients - after he says he's participating. Everyone tells him he can't, because of his cancer, but being Brian, he doesn't listen. Although he tells Justin he's not going so that Justin will take the offer to go to Hollywood to discuss and pitch Rage.

Memorable things happen in Canada - just before they leave, Carl proposes to Debbie and she accepts; Mike and Ben get married, and as a surprise, Brian springs for a wedding cake with two grooms and a klezmer band; Ted and Emmett get lost and half their own twelve step meeting to celebrate Teddy's six month birthday clean and sober; and Brian falls while showing off for a hunk and breaks his collarbone. But he insists on finishing the race, despite that. Despite the fact that he's riding one handed, and in great pain. And Michael refuses to leave him, letting Ben and Hunter go ahead. Their journey and their crossing of the finish line made me cry. This is what it's about - setting out to do what you have to or want to do, and not letting anything hold you back. You're as strong as you want to be, and Brian showed me that. He might seem to people to be the most egocentric, selfish, narcissist on the planet, and sometimes he is, but it's also like what Debbie said about him - his biggest organ is his heart. By the time Michael got back, he was also a father. Wonderful episode, the ultimate capper of which was the renaming of the hospice to the Vic Grassi House. I bawled at that.

Sarah and I are into the third season of Dexter at last, and I'm really enjoying the relationship between Dexter and Miguel Prado (Jimmy Smits). No, it's not like that. They have found kindred spirits in one another, and what begins as Miguel's accidental discovery of Dexter's killing of Freebo has become a meeting of like minds. Miguel accompanies Dexter, and even does the deed himself. However, Dexter worries that perhaps he isn't following the Code. He's only partially explained it, and not where he got it - from his foster father - but perhaps that time is coming. He and Rita (well, mostly Rita) are making plans for the upcoming wedding, and Rita has a new job working for Silvia Prado, who thinks her husband's having an affair. Is he? I'm not sure. Deb is dealing with a new partner who's something of a dick, and having an affair with a CI who isn't even really a CI, and who just might have gotten himself into the hands of the serial killer nicknamed the Skinner. Good season so far.

The Walking Dead began its second season on the 16th, but we just watched the first episode last night, so we're a week behind. So far so good, not much happening other than being beset by a group of zombies while stalled on a blocked interstate (still haven't figured out how they popped up so quickly, as slowly as they move and as disorganized as they are), and a little girl is missing. Also, Rick's wife and his partner are at loggerheads - Rick's unexpected survival after he'd told his wife her husband was dead put a bit of a crimp in their affair. Rick still doesn't know, but I expect that's just a matter of time. This show has a lot of gore, so if you're not into seeing zombie guts, and watching people be dismembered, you might want to pass this one by. I did notice a preview for what looks to be an interesting new show on AMC - Hell on Wheels, starting November 6th. It's a western, and one of the guys I saw looks really hot. I think I'll check it out. I recorded Once Upon a Time Last Night, but haven't watched it yet. I'll let you know.

This week is the finale of Just Desserts, then Top Chef Texas will begin. While I like Just Desserts fine, I'll be glad to see the return of Top Chef. I'm enjoying Sweet Genius immensely, though, even if Sarah keeps tweeting about my obsession with hot men with foreign accents. I'm especially warm for Chef Ron Ben Israel, the host of the show. What I wouldn't give to be a gay man! What can I say? He's utterly adorable!

Tonight is a new Hawaii 5-0. From the previews, I see that Wo Fat (aka Chairman Kaga's nephew) is involved, so I'll wait to talk about that after I see the new one. Need to get back to editing and writing, doing the things that I love.

Also, one more thing - I'm now in charge of the Silver Flash. Ryssa has passed the torch on to me. I'm very honored to carry it and hope that I shall make her proud. Even if there are probably people who read that and said to themselves Oh fuck. So, it'll be business as usual every Wednesday. Stay tuned to this station for all the details!  lol

Love you all! Thanks for stopping by!  Til next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Thursday, October 20, 2011

A Whale of a Contest - or should I say merman?

Everyone is familiar with Hans Christian Anderson's Little Mermaid. As well as Disney's musical film of the same name. But have you ever considered that where there are mermaids, surely there must be mermen?  Stands to reason, eh?

Lets catch one!

My friend and fellow author Lily Sawyer is inviting us to cast our nets for that elusive creature - the merman! 

Hello everyone,

Want to catch a Merman? 

I thought I'd give you a chance to catch Jaran.    All you have to do is leave a message on my blog along with your e mail addy.     I'll be picking a winner tonight. 

Here is my blog

Isn't he yummy?

Happy casting!

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Silver Flash: Scent of a Wolf 6

Happy Wednesday and Happy Hump Day and Happy Silver Flash Day! This week we have received a prompt from our acquisitions editor, Alison Todd who told us to use: The moment I opened my mouth, I knew I would regret it. I wrote the alternate prompts, which were: Use these three words in your story: sunshine, stereo, ambulance or cold hands, warm heart or In for a penny, in for a pound". For my story, I used both Alison's prompt and my cold hands, warm heart prompt. Be sure to check out all the Silver Flashers, whose links appear at the end of this post!

Scent of a Wolf continues this week, and we learn a little bit more about what has happened to Cameron. Enjoy!

Scent of a Wolf 6

Shaw suspected that it wasn’t a good idea the moment he watched Jareth mount his sleek, black, custom-built motorcycle. The one with the ridiculously obscene price tag. But when money was no object, it was easy to throw it about in ostentatious ways. And Jareth wasn’t the only one guilty of that particular crime.

Talking to his obstinate friend had been futile.  He’d known it the moment he tried to talk him out of going. He’d kept trying up until the point at which Jareth donned his helmet, standing astride the powerful machine, and then took off. Now it was time to go to Plan B. Shaw’s phone was in his hand before Jareth was even out of sight.

“Gavin? It’s me. We may have a slight situation on our hands. Yes, I’ll be right there. For right now, though, can you activate the homing device on Jareth’s bike? Thank you. See you soon.” He slid the phone back into his pocket. That was the most he could do, at least for now. It was imperative that he bring Gavin up to speed, and quickly. If anyone could get to the bottom of this mystery, it was Gavin Hawkins. And hopefully keep Jareth out of serious trouble. That was usually not a problem with the normally staid businessman. But ever since he’d gotten a whiff of the redhead, Jareth had not been himself. Shaw didn’t even want to speculate on what that might mean.

Eyes the color of midnight. Arms that held him close. Strong arms, possessive arms. Holding, supporting, protecting.  Something Cameron had never expected or asked for. But they felt so very right that he could not complain.

“Who are you?” he murmured to the stranger. He received no reply from the dark haired man. Not a word did he speak, their bodies pressed together so tightly in the intimacy of the dance that it was impossible not to feel their mutual desire.

His lips—Cameron couldn’t help but be drawn to them. His own parted in expectation of the kiss, as the other man’s face came closer to his own. Cameron held his breath in anticipation, aching for the touch of those lips. Needing them more than he’d thought it was possible to need or want a kiss.

Almost there now… almost there…

Cameron’s eyes snapped open into a world of semi-darkness.  The man had disappeared; he and his lips both gone. Cameron strained to see into the gloom.  He forced his eyes to focus on the indistinct shapes that loomed before him, tried to make sense out of what he was seeing, but none seemed to exist. He struggled to sit up, fighting the cobwebs which clogged his brain and slowed down his thinking processes. His movements felt very slow and exaggerated, as if he were swimming through molasses.

The moment I opened my mouth, I knew I would regret it.” A voice spoke from the darkness. A figure emerged, etched in silhouette. A man, judging by the deepness of the voice.  He reached beside him. Cameron heard a 
click, and light flooded the room. The brightness stung his eyes; he held up a defensive hand against it.

“Where am I?” Cameron asked. A strange lethargy gripped his limbs. He fought against it, tried to rise, but fell back again.

“And yet I could not help myself,” the voice continued, as though Cameron had never spoken. “The moment I saw you, I knew you for who you were. And when I caught your scent… well, there was nothing more to say.”

Scent?  What did that mean?

Cameron’s eyes began to adjust, focusing on the speaker. Long dark hair and golden skin, and dark eyes. Cold eyes. Cameron wondered if it was his dream man come to life, then realized they looked nothing alike.

“Who the hell are you?”Cameron demanded to know.   

The man leaned toward him, eyes glittering ominously in the lamplight. Cameron felt his hands cover his own; he shivered at his touch.

“Cold hands, warm heart,” the man said. His smiled seemed… inappropriate.

Cameron pulled his hands away, but even that simple movement took great effort. “What is this place?” he asked the madman. That’s what he’d decided this man must be—a certifiable, card-carrying escapee from a loony bin—for nothing he said made any sense. Neither did any of the objects that he was seeing in this strange room, as they began to take shape. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he’d been kidnapped and taken to a Museum. But that didn’t make any sense.


It was coming back to him now. The lunatic, and his keeper, who’d followed him from Marco Polo’s into Stolen Hours, having taken a keen interest in him—in his scent, to be precise. Then the two odd men who’d pursued him for no apparent reason. And now this madman. Who was also interested in his scent.

Had the whole world gone mad?

He really needed to find new places to hang out, Cameron decided. Although he didn’t see himself giving up the cheeseburger buffet. Or Sarah’s company.

“I really gotta go,” he said, sitting straight up. Only then did he realize he’d been reclining on a chaise lounge. A not particularly soft one.  He swung his legs over the side, his feet hitting the floor with a quiet thud. Where had his shoes gone?  And why was he clad only in some sort of a skirt?

“You must not exert yourself, Upuaut, my love. You’ve had a long journey. Rest now.”

Cameron felt himself being pressed back against the firm couch. His muscles would not respond to his command. Even the wolf seemed strangely dormant.

The dark haired man buried his nose in Cameron’s neck, inhaling. “You have returned to me… to your Seeker…” he exulted. “My lover… my wolf…”

What the fuck was Cameron’s last coherent thought before darkness claimed him once more.

 to be continued

See what the other Silver Flashers are up to this week!

Come back next week and see what we're up to then!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Guest Blogger Iris Deorre

Good morning! Welcome my guest, author Iris Deorre. A journey begins with a single step, and she's going to tell us about her journey to becoming a writer. She's also going to share some of her latest release! While we get comfortable in the den, why don't you see what she has to say?

My Writing Journey

My writing journey began when I was seventeen. I wrote a short story about a young teenage girl who was struggling with that stage of her life. It helped me personally to get through some things I was going through at the time.
English Literature at school also encouraged my journey to write. I remember studying our first novel (Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare) and thinking wow! If only I could write like that. Not necessarily the old English, more of the creativity the meanings behind words.  I tried to string beautiful words together but never felt that they came out sounding like Shakespeare. I came to learn and accept that each writer has to and must develop their own style.

Life happened; I had a baby and later a divorce. During that period I wrote a novel about a young girl with supernatural abilities who was misunderstood by her peers. It’s a story I never developed, it sits dormant on a memory stick. Perhaps one day I will go back to it and publish it under a different name.

Life really began to get interesting when I sent a short story to a women’s magazine. The story was about a woman who left her country in search of a better life with a small child. I didn’t even know I’d been published except for the cheque that arrived in the post a few months later.

My writing took a huge turn in 2005. One evening I was surfing the net and came across a call for new writers who wanted to try their hand in script writing. The course would be run by a well known Theatre house and only 20 places where available. I sent in my application and to my surprise I was accepted into the course. The course ran for five weeks, with the end result to showcase a play to a live audience. Even though my play was only five minutes long it was nerve wrecking sitting in the audience hoping that people would laugh in the right places and hopefully understand my play.

A year later I got a call from the literary manager from the Theatre and was told that I’d been selected as one of the new writers to write a short play for radio and the internet. I couldn’t believe it; this was validation of my work. It was the first time I began to take myself seriously as a writer.

Later I turned from script writing to novel writing. In November 2007 I joined Nanowriters and achieved my 50,000 words the night before the deadline. The book was never published, another one that lies dormant on my PC.

I wanted to learn more about writing skills so I enrolled onto a writer’s course. This was run by a well known erotic author who not only encouraged me but was genuinely excited about my work. She believed in me and I began to believe in myself a lot more. I turned to writing erotica. There was something about the freedom of expression that was the most exciting about this type of writing. Also my love for Horror is what makes me combine the two.

I love to write no matter what genre it is or what type whether it’s script or novel. It’s what I love to do and it’s a part of who I am. As far as I see it my writing journey has only just began.

Tell us something about yourself, Iris, and about your newest book!

Iris Deorre started to write when she was seventeen. At the time it was a form of escapism. By the time she hit her twenties she was writing short stories and got one published in a women’s magazine. She went on to write short plays but after meeting a well-known author who taught a writers class her focus changed to Erotica. Her love for paranormal is what makes her combine the two.

She resides in the UK with her little girl.

The Whitby Ghost is the latest story from Iris Deorre.

Roy has a past he'd rather forget. To overcome it he takes his girlfriend Melisa to Whitby, the very place of his past that he is trying to forget. Roy believes it's the only way to move on and to forget it by moving on with his future, Melisa.

But something is lurking in Whitby, something that Melisa becomes sensitive to the minute they arrive. What she discovers is hard to swallow. What follows is a journey to the other side. Something she'd rather forget.

Will Melisa marry her boyfriend who refuses to talk about his past? Or will his past bring them closer?

Buy links

Have any questions or comments for Iris?  She'd love to hear from you!

Thanks for coming! Take care and see you next time!

♥ Julie