Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Silve Flash: Scent of a Wolf #1

Happy Wednesday! Hump Day, which means it's time for another bit of flash fiction, brought to you by the friendly authors at Silver Publishing! This week's prompts are all courtesy of our lovely leader/Prompt Diva Ryssa Edwards:  "We can't let this continue." or Use the following elements in your story:  a rainy day, an all you can eat cheeseburger buffet, a bulletin board with only two words on it


This week, because the prompts didn't work out with Lust Never Sleeps, I started something new, but never fear - Darryl and Sawyer return next week! This week, meet Jareth and Cameron in The Scent of a Wolf. I hope you enjoy it!


Scent of a Wolf #1





Cameron Lowell turned up the collar of his light-weight jacket. He knew it wouldn’t help. Water seeped inside anyway, dripping down his neck, chilling him. He didn’t mind getting wet, not if it was a good honest warm rain, but this cold drizzle stole into his bones and only served to plaster his long red hair against his skull. Definitely not a good look for him. It had all begun when he’d walked past the bulletin board which served as information central for his dorm. He’d glanced at it from habit—his restless mind demanded a constant influx of new data to process in an attempt to offset boredom. As he glanced through the assortment of ads which ranged from the ridiculous to the inane, everything changed before his eyes. He watched as every single word on every single note on the corkboard arranged and rearranged itself, until only two words remained—beef feast. Words that only he could see, but he knew what they meant, and he could do nothing less than obey the beast within which demanded that he be fed. Being a poor college student meant he had to seize every opportunity which presented itself to him. And this was one of the best.

Marco Polo’s was running its on-again off-again catch-it-when-you-can all-you-can-eat cheeseburger buffet. Like catnip tossed to a cat. Like a red flag waved before a bull. Like a piece of meat thrown at a hungry dog. That latter analogy was the closest to the truth, although Cameron was no dog and he’d be insulted if you even insinuated such a thing.

No, Cameron was a self-respecting werewolf. A great deal of difference between the two.

And if he had to run the risk of getting his fur wet—figuratively, not literally, as it wasn’t the night of the full moon—in order to satisfy the hunger of the beast within, then so be it.

There was one advantage to this infernal drizzle—it discouraged a great deal of the mindless throng who would otherwise be crowding him off the sidewalk. Not that Cameron was one to let himself be pushed around. But his innocuous appearance belied what he truly was—a werewolf of the greatest magnitude. Someone not to fuck with. Despite the pale complexion, the ridiculously long hair, and the soft dark chocolate eyes. You messed with this lone wolf at your own peril.

He could smell it before he approached it—the scent of cooking meat. Personally, he’d a penchant for having his meat raw, but he could certainly enjoy it in its various incarnations, from rare to medium-rare to medium. Anything more than that was burnt in his book, and therefore inedible. Meat fit only to be thrown to the dogs.

Pun definitely intended.

The aroma slapped him in the face when he opened the door, following his nose quite happily into the interior, his stomach making happy growling noises.

********

The building was composed of weathered brick, sandwiched in between others of its kind, nothing to distinguish it from its brethren. Lying as it did in the heart of the downtown area, it was perfect for business purposes.  Its proximity to the vast array of restaurants which spanned the adjoining blocks assured that no one who worked within walking distance would ever have reason to starve. Even the pickiest of gourmands could find food to his liking.

There was nothing on the three-story building itself to indicate its current tenant, but on the frosted glass of the faded green door letters had been etched which also gave no clue as to what business entity resided therein. Solarism Inc. Nothing more.

The man who emerged, briefcase in hand as he carefully locked the door behind himself and his companion, seemed out of place. He could have easily held his own on a business GQ cover, and still have stood out. Impeccably dressed in a grey-checked business seat, complete to gloves, he drew attention simply by existing. His jet black hair was immaculately coifed, every hair in place. He ran a quick hand over it, but the gesture was unnecessary, simply born of habit. His dark eyes were intent, almost to the point of being humorless, and his pale lips did nothing to dispel the illusion, not being upturned in any sort of a smile.

His companion was a marked contrast to his darkness. Dirty blonde hair with bronze tips, warm brown eyes and a ready smile, he was more casually garbed. More in tune with his surroundings.  “My sister keeps asking about you, Jareth.”

Jareth Hammond grimaced in annoyance as he stepped out into the lightly falling rain. The weeping clouds obscured all signs of the sun, giving the appearance that it was much later in the day than it truly was. “Of all the days to not bring an umbrella,” he muttered, half to himself, as the two men fell into step together. “What was that, Shaw? Oh yes, your sister. You know that she holds no appeal for me. At least you should by now. Tell her something that will satisfy her apparent need to couple with me, and get her off my case, will you please?”

“Like what? You’re getting married?” Shaw Cross couldn’t resist needling the other man. It was just too easy to get his goat. Mr. Serious.

“I didn’t say lie, now did I? Be gentle, but make it clear I’m not avail—“

Shaw waited for the rest of that word. When it wasn’t forthcoming, he glanced toward Jareth. The man seemed transfixed, nose up, inhaling intensely.

“What the hell’s got into you?” he asked, watching in amazement as the normally staid businessman seemed about to burst with something.

Jareth’s pace increased; Shaw had to trot to keep up. His eyes looked almost glazed. Was that the beginning of a smile?

Abruptly he stopped, Shaw almost running into him.

“Here!” he announced, pointing at a small restaurant before them.

Marco Polo, the window read.

 to be continued

Don't forget to check out the other fearless Flashers:

Sui Lynn     m/m
Ryssa Edwards     m/m
Catriana Somers     m/m
Lily Sawyer         m/m
Victoria Blisse      m/f
Chris Quinton       m/m
Freddy McKay     m/m

Hope  you enjoy our weekly offerings! Have ideas? Suggestions? Comments? Feel free to leave them, we'd love to hear from you!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie







Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Hell's Kitchen is Trying to drive me insane!

So I just watched last night's two hour Hell's Kitchen, and damned if I didn't think my wish was gonna come true, to see Elise sent packing, never to hear her big mouth flap again!

Ah, sweet dreams, gone too soon!


********spoilers ahead***********


At the end of the first hour, Carrie was given the boot. It didn't pain me to see her go as much as it pained me not to see Elise go. I could have thought of others that should have gone before Carrie. But I kept the hope alive that Elise would follow her at the end of the next episode.

No such luck. We lost Natalie. Now the teams are even again. I think, though, that before Natalie went, Tommy should go. He brings dumb to a whole new level. Ah well, I don't believe that Elise will run the course. My prediction for the final two, at least as I see it, is Jennifer and Will. I think they're the two most serious contenders.

Great news for Jim Longworth and The Glades - Callie has finally filed for divorce! I hope this means my two favorite people on the show will be getting back together again! Although judging from previews of next week's season finale, Jim's gonna have competition. Should be interesting. I really love that show and I hope they pick it up for a third season. Right now that's all I watch on A&E. It's fallen a lot in my estimation over the past few years. It used to stand for quality programming. Not so much now.

Sarah and I watched the first episode of Sandwich King, with Jeff Mauro. As you'll recall, he was winner of Network Food Star. And judging by his first show, their judgment was not wrong. He made a home-made Italian sandiwch, and a hybrid foccacia/panini, and something else, I forget what it was. But everything looked delicious. He went on location to a sandwich shop in Elmwood Park, Illnois, and we saw how this guy made his sandwiches. Jeff's version looked quite delicious, and easy for the home cook to make. The recipes are all on Food Network's site. Nicely done, Jeff! I look forward to seeing more from you.

All for now, got a couple deadlines to make. Tomorrow is Silver Flash Wednesday, and I have something new to show off. Hope you like it.

Got any questions or comments? I'd love to hear from you!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Sci Fi Sunday - Reality Check Continues

Another Sunday, another edition of Sci Fi Sunday from Sui Lynn and myself! This week we present you with another chapter of Reality Check. As you may recall from previously, Reno and Kay think they have a great solution to an otherwise insoluble problem. Can they make it work?  Enjoy finding out!


Reality Check



I stride with confidence, Swyddogh just behind me, into the throne room, which is also used as the reception room on days such as these. Already petitioners form a line to see my parents, waiting their turn to plead their case in one form or another. Clemency, leniency, munificence—everyone wants something from the King and Queen, that’s just a given. There is an order to the process, one that prevents chaos from ensuing. Nothing worse than chaos on an empty stomach.  But these have nothing to do with me, I’ve a mission all my own. I fix my smile upon my face, fix my arguments firmly in my mind, and make my way toward….

Oh great slithering bandicoots, there is something worse, and it stands before me now. Oily, greasy, and obsequious—in other words, Orm Schlangeleben, fucking vizier. I should’ve expected it, where’s my head? Oh yes, with Reno.

Never mind. I don’t intend to let him get to me. Not today. I’m feeling too good, my heart is full of Fellaxxian love songs, and Reno’s image fills my brain. I’ve a purpose in my life, a reason for being. Outside of my usual one, that is, which is simply because I’m me. But that’s beside the point.

Luci has yet to arrive; that’s a good thing. I think we can accomplish more without her bratty presence. She has this annoying habit of sticking in her opinion when it’s least wanted. Like ever. Seriously, women just need to shut the hell up most of the time, and… and do womanly things. Whatever. No, I don’t mean my mother. She’d wallop me good if she ever heard me say that. I’m not that dumb. Do I look that dumb? Forget I asked.

I approach my parents upon their royal thrones, make my usual filial bow of obeisance—no sense in pissing them off by being rebellious when I haven’t even gotten what I want yet. I can play the game with the best of them. Don’t forget who you’re dealing with here—Crown Prince Cailean, and none other.

“Good morning Mother, Father,” I greet them. Most kings and queens, at least in my experience, are content to hold their offspring at arm’s length, eyeball them now and then, pat them on the back, fund their higher education, and their extravagant lifestyles, and generally keep themselves aloof from most parental contact.

Not my parents.

Queen Kærlighed and King Liefde have these strange ideas about raising their children, one that favors interaction. I suppose I should be grateful; it’s probably made me the spoiled little princeling that I am today. No, that’s not my opinion, but I’ve heard it said about me, when people think I’m not paying attention. Some people are actually under the delusion that I’m some sort of an idiot. I’m sure they really mean idiot savant. I’m not sure if I like that word much better. Words. I know it’s two words, don’t tell me.

Alright, I’ll admit it, I do love my parents. There, I said it. Maybe Liusaidh too. When she’s not being incredibly bratty. Sometimes their hands-on methods are very beneficial to me. When they aren’t suffocating. Let’s hope today is one of those times.

As I was saying, my parents belong to the hug a child every day organization. No, it’s not a real group, that’s sarcasm on my part. As I reach their dais, they stand to meet me. My mother hugs me, then my father hugs me. Then we have a group hug. I glare at Swy, as if daring him to step closer, but he’s smart enough to maintain just the proper distance between himself and us, thus avoiding the dreaded hug.

When I manage to separate myself from them, I smooth down my skirt, and announce, “I would like a private audience if I may. Now.” Just in case they think I’m wanting to be put on the schedule somewhere, let there be no mistake that I mean at this very moment. I don’t intend to wait.

As if to illustrate the gravity of my intentions, I signal to Swy. “Tell the people to come back in an hour or so. And close the hall.” He nods gravely. I half hold my breath, but I hear no objections from my parents, so all must be well.

Unfortunately, Orm hasn’t taken the hint, and he’s giving me the evil vizier eye. I don’t press the point, for now. Perhaps I can think of some way to turn his presence to my advantage. We’ll see.

Of course I have a throne too. I’m the Prince, aren’t I? Luci has one too. I take my seat beside my parents, feeling a bit of one-upmanship because I know that Orm cannot sit in our presence. Score one for my side.

“Is there something you wished to discuss with us?” Father asks.

“Does it have to do with your university studies?” That from my mother.

“Yes. And no,” I answer them both. “Actually, it’s about Luci’s courtship by the… native….” I try to put my usual disdain into that one word, although I don’t actually feel it any more. Not after meeting Reno. My attitude seems to have turned itself inside out. Where once I wouldn’t deign to touch the hem of one of their garments, now I dream of touching a whole lot more than that. Well, of one native in particular. Reno.

Of course I don’t want them to know that, it’d spoil everything.

“What do you mean—”

“The arrangements have been made, permission has been given for Princess Liusaidh to be courted by Renophoatien Sameeleon—“

Two voices speaking at one time. My father. And him. The greasy odious one. I turn my attention to my father, ignoring the oily vizier.

“I understand that permission has been given, Father, and I’ve a proposal to make regarding that very thing. I wish to see that everything is done properly, and Luci is properly chaperoned during her courtship with… what was his name? Reno something? With him.” There, I think I’ve covered myself pretty well, and given no indication of just how familiar I really am with Reno’s name. Or how familiar I wish to become with his body.

My father seems to be smirking at me now. What does he find so amusing? I huff a bit, turning to Swy, who immediately pulls out my mirror so that I may admire myself. Every hair in place, beautiful as ever. I nod to him and he quickly stashes it away once more.

“And how do you propose to do that?” Father asks. My mother’s wearing the same sappy smile he is, what’s with them? I’m beginning to think they’ve hit the happy juice a little early today. Very early.

“I’ve decided I shall offer myself as a chaperone. In fact, I’ll go farther than that. I’ll actually go to the native’s home and make all the arrangements. And I shall make sure that Luci is well looked after.”

“Oh you will, will you?”

“Yes, Mother, I will.” Why is this so hard to understand? Is no one else as concerned for my sister’s honor as I am? So maybe my concerns are a little lower, and are all aimed toward Reno. Minor difference.

Are they going to give me trouble? I feel a slight tremor of panic threaten to overtake me at the idea that I might fail, that they will approve of my idea of chaperonage but disapprove of me, appoint someone else in my place. And then we’ll be sunk indeed. And I’ll simply die….

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Kay.” My father again. Oh praise the stars, he approves. I begin to breathe again. Of course I show no indication that I was ever perturbed or disturbed in any way. I’m a prince, after all. And a damned good one at that.

My stomach is rumbling again. Normally, I’d listen to its less than dulcet tones and make some attempt to appease it, but I’m in a hurry. I want to see Reno. Very badly. I shall simply have him feed me there, once I arrive. I can’t believe that I’ve actually chosen to forego food. Who am I today?

I’ll tell you who I am—I’m a young prince in love.

Just thinking about Reno gives me pause, and I feel the same sappy smile my parents are wearing creep over my face. That means it’s time to go, before I give myself away in some manner.

I make my bows, and prepare to gracefully exit the room, and instruct Swy to see about transport to Reno’s house as quickly as humanly possible. Then the worst thing I can possibly imagine occurs—my sister walks into the room. She’s obviously not aware of the meaning of a closed door. Oh oh, she’s got that look in her eyes, the one that generally spells trouble for me. What is she up to now?

I’ve my back turned toward my parents, facing Luci, as I frantically try to signal to her to turn back, to stay away, and to generally get the hell out of here before she does something to spoil what I’ve just done. Without giving away the game, which took a great deal of finesse on my part.

She’s either blind, or oblivious, or both, barreling toward us with all the grace of a three-footed jintjant in heat. What do I have to do to get that damn girl’s attention?

Oh no, she’s opening her mouth, what is she doing?

“I have something to say,” she proclaims, as she gets too close for comfort—in other words, within earshot of our parents. “About this courtship thing, I want to….”

How very badly I wish to strangle my sister at this moment!

§§§§
How, how could I have… Of all the men at the reception, why’d I have to attract the most pompous of them all? His Highness Prince Cailean. I’ve gone and done it now, stirred the interest of the wrong royal and gotten my brother in as deeply as I am in the bargain. We’ve disobeyed our Mother, and our tribal leader, the First Mother. Which idea disturbs me the most—that I’ve attracted Kay, or that I’m attracted to Kay?

 I’m lying,  as I have all night long, staring blankly up at the ceiling. I try to sleep, but every time I close my eyes I see him—I can still feel him in my arms. Damn, he fits so nicely within my embrace. I shake my head and sigh. The Guardian has risen above the horizon. It’s early yet,  but I need to talk to Jaou. We’ve plans to make. If we’re to continue with this betrayal of our people, we need to be united before our parents, and especially our Mother.

I drag myself from my sleeping pallet, the soft rich soil having done nothing to ease my rest or my mood. I chose to sleep in my soil pallet instead of on a human mattress, which seems to be the current trend among our people. I’d hoped that the Earth Mother would grant me the respite that the mattress did not, but it mattered little where I lay my head as I still got no actual sleep.

I desire only Kay. My thoughts are filled with nothing but him. How beautifully annoying.

Jaou and I need to talk. We need to come up with a plan to fix things before our carefully built house of cards tumbles down around us. I step into my private bathing area and rinse my body in the shower. The cool water runs in trickles down my body; they feel refreshing against my fevered skin as visions of the handsome Kay float through my memory. I reach down and stroke my erection; my tender petals are tightly wrapped about my cock and haven’t opened. They won’t, of course, until I’m actually able to claim him—my chosen, my princeling, my Kay. How those very words tingle in my brain. My desire hardens and the need I have for him is almost painful, in an exquisite sort of way. I stroke my shaft and its sensitive petals, giving the three glans of the head a little twist as visions of my soon-to-be-lover dance through my mind. I can still smell him on my body; the cool water enhances his scent slightly before it rinses it away. My movements become more frantic, as I pant—the thought of his beautiful eyes, those long legs wrapped about my waist, and the wonder of his wood within my grasp… I moan as my seed splashes across the cool tiles. I lean forward, resting my forehead on my arm. The desire is no less, but the urgency presses less significantly against my libido, enough so I can safely seek out my brother and not be a cause for embarrassment, if  I’m seen. It wouldn’t do to walk around my family home in human dress, just to hide my enflamed state from them.

I emerge from the waters of the shower and I’m drying my skin when I hear the knock on my bedroom door.

“Enter,” I call from the bathing area as I finish my morning routine.

“Reno?” Jaou calls as he comes in and looks around.

“I’ll be right out. Make yourself comfortable. I was just about to come to you.” I chuckle as Jaou sits heavily on the made bed in the middle of the room.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Jaou asks.

“Slept in my earth pallet, not that it mattered… No, I didn’t sleep well.  How about you?”

“Not a bit. All I could think of was how sweet she smelled and …” Jaou sighs

“Shhh… You know better than that. It’s not like the walls here are made of stone like the castle,” I fairly snap at Jaou.

“I know but… Reno, what are we going to do?”

“I’ll go to Father one more time and beg him to speak to Mother. I can’t believe they’d force this on us. I’ll tell him that we all got along well enough but that there isn’t any attraction between us and see if it makes any difference.” I step from the bathing area back into my room to see Jaou lying back on the bed, his head in his hands.

“It won’t matter. I’ve already approached him this morning, while he was doing his Guardian salutations in the garden. I told him that the Prince seemed to be attracted to you and although the Princess was cordial, that I wouldn’t expect any declarations to be made.” Jaou’s hands thumped to his sides on the mattress.

“What did he say?” I catch my breath as I sit beside my brother. From the dismal discouraged look on his face, I already know the answer, of course.

“He told me to stay out of it and be a good chaperone, guard the family’s honor and keep you in sight. That you know your place and will do as the First Mother bids and mate with the female.”

“Smatherrats!” My head falls forward into my hands, my hair hiding my eyes as well as the shame of my overwrought emotions from my brother. “Then we go with Kay’s plan and for the time being we play the game. I’ll approach the First Mother and ask what our next step in courtship is expected to be. You’ve been named chaperone so you might as well come with. I apologize now brother, if I seem forward with your chosen, but I may have to touch her to make this game realistic. I’ve no desire for her, I assure you. I only want Kay. Just so you know.”

“I know brother. I know…” Jaou’s voice sounds tired. And our game has barely begun.

We’re both startled from our reveries by the sound of shouting in the hallway. Together we bolt for the door. The commotion comes from the front of the house. Someone has arrived. For a moment I think it might be Kay, but from the distraught screaming of Mother and the keening sound of Father in distress, I know that can’t be the case.

Jaou and I burst through the front door to see two men leading a horse. Behind the horse, upon a litter our brother Dorianianetah lies unconscious, cradled between the poles in a layer of soil. His color’s grey, none of the natural green of our people’s natural pallor can be seen in his skin. If not for the faint rise and fall of his breathing, I’d have thought he was gone from this world.

“What’s going on here!” I ask the two men—they look almost as sickly as my brother. I run forward and take my brother’s hand as Jaou takes the reins of the horse;  it’s begun to spook as a direct result of my father’s 
keening.

“We were in the wastes,” one man replies. “Dorian decided he wanted to try and find out what was at the center, see what was creating the wastes. I told him not to. I tried to convince him it was a bad idea, but he refused to listen to reason,” The telling of this awful tale seems to draw the last of the man’s energy from him. When I look up from my brother to him, I realize the man is my little brother’s best friend, Thom. Only he looks so much older than his few years, that I almost didn’t recognize him.

“My brother can be very stubborn, Thom. You know that,” I try to sooth him as I lace my fingers with my brother’s, sending him as much restorative energy as I can, before Mother shoves me unceremoniously away.

“You will lose your coloring. I’ll do it!” she snaps, lacing her own fingers with her son’s, pouring her energy into him. I bite my tongue, knowing that Dorian’s body would’ve accepted the energy from me—his brother and another male—easier than from the body of a female, even that of his mother. But I can’t disobey her.

“Thom, what happened next?” I ask since Mother’s concentrating on healing Dorian.

“We waited for him for two days, but when he didn’t show last evening, Zeph and I went in after him and found him unconscious on the ground. Everything around him was dead. The very plant life about him sacrificed to keep him alive.” Thom starts to waver on his feet. Zeph, his older brother wraps an arm around him and braces him.

“We put him in a litter and headed home. When we were clear of the wastes we put clean soil around him and bared as much of his skin to the guardian as we could, hoping it would help purify him. We gave him an energy infusion, but we’re almost as contaminated as he is.” Zeph shakes his head, exhaustion flooding him.

I watch Jaou unhitch the horse from the litter and help Zeph put Thom atop the horse, then climb behind him. “I’m going to take them home,” Jaou says. “They need help. I’ll make sure they get to their families.”

“Yes, thank you, Jaou,” Mother offers my brother a grateful smile. “Reno, I’m sorry I snapped at you. Will you assist me and your father to get Dorian to the gardens? We’ll see to his energy infusion, but he’ll do better with you there also. The light of the Guardian will refresh your colors as well.”

“Yes Mother, as you wish.” I scoop my brother up in my arms and run for the garden before she can protest the skin to skin contact and the energy I send to my baby brother, without her permission.

to be continued


Thanks for stopping by! What do you think of Kay and Reno so far? Want to see the sweet faces that inspired them? You got it!



Here's Reno!










And here's Kay!  












We'd love to hear what you think of our two hotties!

Come back next week for another episode!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie and Sui



Saturday, August 20, 2011

Guest Blogger Kathryn Meyer Griffith

Today my guest is author Kathryn Meyer Griffith who is going to tell us something about her newest release, Egyptian Heart. Egypt, time travel and romance - who could ask for anything more! As she and I settle into the den, I'll let her get started, while I pour us some tea.








 The Story of Egyptian Heart
A backstory and other tidbits from an old writer’s life
Digital ISBN: 978-1-61572-443-7 * Print ISBN: 978-1-61572-444-4


Let me start with this: I have always loved ancient Egyptian stories since I was a child. I remember I wrote one of my first school papers at around eleven years old in pencil on the ancient Egyptians after dragging home an armful of musty smelling books from the library. I don’t recall exactly why I loved this particular time period and the people that lived in it but it might have had something to do with the movies The Ten Commandments (I was raised a Catholic), the horror mummy movies of the 1960’s and the early TV shows on Nefertiti and Cleopatra. I just had this affinity for the period.   
It was February 1994 (I noted it on the outside of the manila folder where I keep a running book history on each novel) when I began Egyptian Heart. Originally I called it The Cursed Scarab. Later, I retitled it Egyptian Heart because I wanted it to more reflect the romance tale it had become.
I still had my agent, Lori Perkins, who’d sold four earlier novels for me to Zebra Books (Vampire Blood, 1991; The Last Vampire, 1992; Witches, 1993 and The Calling, 1994…after I’d sold my first three novels on my own to Leisure Books: Evil Stalks the Night, 1984: The Heart of the Rose, 1985; Blood Forge,1989) and she’d told me about a new romantic horror line that Silhouette was starting called the Shadows Line. They wanted to tap into the darker romantic paranormal market. Lori said they wanted the kind of story I wrote but with more romance. It was Silhouette after all.  I’d been labeled as a horror writer from the get go, though all my novels blended genres; usually I wrote a romantic horror mixture with dashes of adventure, suspense and sometimes threw in a little history or mystery as well…but in those days the big publishers felt the need (and I think they still do) to squeeze a writer into one narrow slot. So I was a horror writer.
But my 1994 I’d lost my sweet editor at Zebra and a new one took her place...and over the next year he didn’t like anything I wrote for him and later that year Zebra unceremoniously dropped me and my latest book (Predator, a story about a dinosaur in Crater Lake…which never came out but still lingers like some weird ghost book in every computer on the global Internet) only six weeks away from going to the bookstore shelves. I’d begged the new editor not to call it Predator, bad title since there was a popular movie out of that name and it was nothing about a dinosaur, and the cover was awful, an empty boat on a lake…what!!! Having that book – my first ever – dumped like that was a crushing experience, let me tell you. I had a stack of finished, printed covers and had already done my final edits! I got to keep my advance but the book was officially dead. The new editor-that-didn’t-like-my-writing explained: “No one wants to read a book about a dinosaur.” And six months later Jurassic Park came out! The book is still sitting in a drawer somewhere (perhaps one day I’ll resurrect and finish it as well).
At that point, my agent wanted me to branch out so I wrote two manuscripts for the Silhouette Shadows Line or tried to.  Egyptian Heart and Shadow Road (a romantic suspense about a woman truck driver driving a dangerous wintry route with a murderer on her tail, which later I retitled and sold as Winter’s Journey). To make a long story short, Silhouette Shadows turned both down. Seems I had too much horror in them; not enough sex. I didn’t follow the formula. Sheesh. I’ve never liked depending too much on sex in any of my books or writing a book too predictable. The originality of the novel and the characters make the story for me.
After that my agent dropped me. Ah, the life of a writer.
So, then life (as it has many times in my 39 year writing career), family and job problems, and my other novels (I was into murder mysteries for years and sold two to Avalon Books), got in the way and Egyptian Heart and Shadow Road went into drawer hibernation until, oh, about 2004, when I rediscovered them, dug them out, rewrote them and began trying to sell them again. Sometimes, I’ve found, a book left alone in a dark cubbyhole ages like good wine. (Or sometimes it just turns to vinegar.)
Fast forward three years to 2007 and a new e-book (e-books still being considered a risky new-fangled craze at that time!) publisher called The Wild Rose Press contracted both and eventually a third called The Ice Bridge, a ghostly romantic murder mystery set on Mackinac Island, and published them. Good publisher. They treated me well. But in 2010 when I contracted my two newest novels, Before the End: A Time of Demons and The Woman in Crimson (both romantic horror) my new publisher, Kim Richards Gilchrist at Damnation Books wanted to bring out all my old out-of-print novels again (going back to those early Leisure Books from the 1980’s) in print – and e-books for the first time ever.  Seven old paperbacks. I’d rewrite them all, get new covers and they’d all live again. I was thrilled. And grateful. It would take a lot of work on both our parts but when we were done ALL my old novels would be in print again and in electronic form out in the world. I jumped right in.
Then when my two year contract (I was lucky, e-books still being new, it was only for two years; now most e-book publishers contract for five years or longer) ran out with The Wild Rose Press I happily switched Egyptian Heart, Winter’s Journey, The Ice Bridge and a novella Don’t Look Back, Agnes to Eternal Press (Damnation Books sister company). Kim Richards, and her husband William, had just brought Realms of Fantasy Magazine into the fold, as well.
So. Egyptian Heart has had a very long history. Simply put, it’s a romantic time travel paranormal romance set in the ancient times of Nefertiti and her heretic Pharaoh Akhenaton.  It’s more romance than history, though I did a lot of research in 1994… originally for my 1994 Zebra horror paperback The Calling. I thought: why waste all this hard worked for research on just one novel? So I also used it for Egyptian Heart and an erotic short story, The Nameless One, one that Zebra had placed in their 1994 horror anthology Dark Seductions
The new cover for Egyptian Heart by Dawne Dominique is amazingly beautiful and Kim Richards herself was my editor. Thank you both.
So from a child’s love of ancient Egypt to the finished book, it’s been a long journey and goes to show all you writer’s out there that, yes, persistence does sometimes win out.  And a good book never dies. It just ages like wine in a dark drawer.
I hope you’ll give Egyptian Heart a look and a read. The best way to describe it is through its blurb and so here it is:  
Maggie Owen is a beautiful, spirited Egyptologist, but lonely. Even being in Egypt on a grant from the college she teaches at to search for an undiscovered necropolis she’s certain lies below the sands beyond the pyramids of Gizah doesn’t give her the happiness she’d hoped it would.
There’s always been and is something missing. Love.
Then her workmen uncover Ramose Nakh-Min’s ancient tomb and an amulet from his sarcophagus hurls her back to 1340 B.C – where she falls hopelessly in love with the man she was destined to be with, noble Ramose, who faithfully serves the heretic Pharaoh Akhenaton and his queen Nefertiti.
She’s fallen into perilous times with civil war threatening Egypt. She’s been mistaken for one of Ramose’s runaway slaves and with her light hair, jinn green eyes and fair skin she doesn’t fit in. Some say she’s magical and evil. Ramose’s favorite, Makere, tries to kill her.
The people, angry the Pharaoh has set his Queen aside and forced them to worship one god are rising up against him.
Maggie’s caught dangerously in the middle.
In the end, desperately in love, will she find a way to stay alive and with Ramose in ancient Egypt–and to make a difference in his world and history?
Because Maggie has finally found love. ***
                                                                 Thank you all! Kathryn Meyer Griffith

******************************************************************************
A word about Kathryn Meyer Griffith, August 2011...
Since childhood I’ve always been an artist and worked as a graphic designer in the corporate world and for newspapers for twenty-three years before I quit to write full time. I began writing novels at 21 and have had fourteen (nine romantic horror, one historical romance and two mysteries) previous novels published from Zebra Books, Leisure Books, Avalon Books, The Wild Rose Press, Damnation Books and Eternal Press.
I’ve been married to Russell for thirty-three years; have a son, James, and two grandchildren, Joshua and Caitlyn, and I live in a small quaint town in Illinois called Columbia, which is right across the JB Bridge from St. Louis, Mo. We have two quirky cats, Sasha and Cleo, and the four of us live happily in an old house in the heart of town. Though I’ve been an artist, and a folk singer in my youth with my brother Jim, writing has always been my greatest passion, my butterfly stage, and I’ll probably write stories until the day I die.
       
Novels and short stories from Kathryn Meyer Griffith:
Evil Stalks the Night (Leisure, 1984; Damnation Books, July 2012)
The Heart of the Rose (Leisure, 1985; Eternal Press Author’s Revised Edition out Nov.7, 2010)
Blood Forge (Leisure, 1989; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out February 2012)
Vampire Blood (Zebra, 1991; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out July 2011)
The Last Vampire (Zebra, 1992; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out October 2010)
Witches (Zebra, 1993; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out April 2011)
The Nameless One (short story in 1993 Zebra Anthology Dark Seductions;
  Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out February 2011)
The Calling (Zebra, 1994; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out October 2011)
Scraps of Paper (Avalon Books Murder Mystery, 2003)
All Things Slip Away (Avalon Books Murder Mystery, 2006)
Egyptian Heart (The Wild Rose Press, 2007; Author’s Revised Edition out again from Eternal Press in August 2011)
Winter’s Journey (The Wild Rose Press, 2008; Author’s Revised Edition out again from Eternal Press in September 2011)
The Ice Bridge (The Wild Rose Press, 2008; Author’s Revised Edition out again from Eternal Press in November 2011)
Don’t Look Back, Agnes novella and bonus short story: In This House (2008; ghostly romantic short story out again from Eternal Press in January 2012)
BEFORE THE END: A Time of Demons (Out from Damnation Books June 2010)
The Woman in Crimson (Out from Damnation Books September 2010)

Her Websites:
http://www.myspace.com/kathrynmeyergriffith (to see all my book trailers with original music by my singer/songwriter brother JS Meyer)
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/profile.php?id=1019954486
http://www.jacketflap.com/K.Griffith
http://www.shoutlife.com/kathrynmeyergriffith
http://www.goodreads.com/profile/kathrynmeyergriffith

E-mail me at rdgriff@htc.net  I love to hear from my readers.


Egyptian Heart


Blurb:

Maggie Owen is a beautiful, spirited Egyptologist…but  
lonely. Even being in Egypt on a grant from the college she
teaches at to search for an undiscovered necropolis she’s
certain lies below the sands beyond the pyramids of Gizah
doesn’t give her the happiness she’d hoped it would.
There has always been and is something missing. Love.
Then her workmen uncover Ramose Nakh-Min’s ancient tomb
and an amulet from his sarcophagus hurls her back to 1340
B.C – where she falls hopelessly in love with the man she
was destined to be with, noble Ramose, who faithfully serves
the heretic Pharaoh Akhenaton and his queen Nefertiti.
She’s fallen into perilous times with civil war
threatening Egypt. She’s been mistaken for one of
Ramose’s runaway slaves and with her blond hair, jinn
green eyes and fair skin she doesn’t fit in. Some say
she’s magical and evil. Ramose’s favorite, Makere,
attempts to kill her.

The people, angry the pharaoh Akhenaton has set his queen
Nefertiti aside and he’s forced them to worship his god,
Aton (instead of their many Egyptian gods), are rising up
against him.

Maggie’s caught in the middle of it in a dangerous land
and time she doesn’t belong in.

In the end, desperately in love with Ramose, will she find a
way to stay alive and with him in ancient Egypt–and to
make a difference in his world and history?

Because Maggie has finally found love. ***
********************************************************************************************************

EXCERPT:

The old woman had disengaged herself from me and stepped
away to stand behind someone else. Smart woman. The soldier
was still looking at me.

All I could do was appeal to his humanity. “Hello, perhaps
you could help me? I do not belong here. My name is Maggie
Owen. I am an archaeologist working at the Boston University
dig a distance past the Khufu Pyramid.” I put my hand out for the man to
shake, but he merely looked at it and then at me and stepped
back.

My nervous uncertainty and hunger made me start babbling and
I couldn’t stop myself. “I am here by mistake. I am not
a slave. I was lost out on the desert last night when you
rounded all these people up. I am so glad to finally be able to talk to you about this. But, truth is, I guess I need to speak to your
superior.”

“Enough! Be silent! You never speak unless asked to
speak,” the soldier hissed at me, reached out with the
butt of his whip and slammed it against my head. I went down
like a dropped sack of rocks.

I must have blacked out because when I came to other
soldiers were standing around staring at and talking about
me as if I weren’t lying on the ground in front of them,
my mouth hanging open and my hands cradling my head. Blood
trickled down along the side of my face and was sticky
between my fingers. I couldn’t believe what had happened,
my mind was still trying to process it, but I wasn’t
talking without permission again anytime soon.

One of the soldiers stooped down and grabbed a handful of my
blonde hair. I tugged the strands away from his dirty grasp
and hoped it wouldn't make him angry. It didn't. He seemed
confused and then I saw the apprehension in his eyes.
“She is different from the others,” he said, “look at
what she is wearing and look at her skin, so fair and
untouched by the sun... her hair... as silver and pale as
moonlight—”

“Could be she is a house slave,” replied another heavier
soldier with darker skin than the others, she is dressed in
nightclothes...”

“A bed slave is more like it,” another one snickered.
I didn't know whether to be offended or frightened. This
wasn't happening.

“Please?” I tried again, dragging myself to my feet and
trembling. My head hurt and the world was spinning but I had
to make them understand I wasn't one of the runaway slaves.
My life might depend on it. This time my voice was more
respectful. “There has been a mistake. I am an American,
not anyone's slave. Can I please see the man in charge—”

The whip handle lashed out again and would have caught me on
the other side of my head if I hadn't jumped quickly out of
its way. I lost my balance and went down. I stayed. The
ground seemed safer. This time I couldn't stop the tears and
looked up through them at the three men tormenting me as if
I was some circus freak.

Had they no heart or compassion and why couldn't I get
through to them?

One of the soldiers prodded at me with his boot and I
recognized lust in his eyes. Shuddering, I realized I could
be beaten, raped or worse. Anything they wanted to do to me,
they could do. This wasn't my time, my safe world and there
was no one to help me. To them I was a no one, a worthless
slave.

“Look at those eyes of hers...that evil green color,”
the man who'd pushed me with his boot said.

The soldier with the whip breathed, “Jinn eyes.”

“She came from the desert,” another soldier offered.

“She could be one. I have heard men talk of the desert
jinns that appear out of nowhere to bewitch and destroy a
man.”

“We should kill her now before she puts a spell on us.”

“No, she belongs to Ramose.”

“She is trouble.”

“Jinn eyes. She is evil.”

And all three soldiers edged away from me.  ***