Sexy Snippets #1

I know it's a bit late on Sunday, and I promise to do better  next time, but better late than never, right? I came across Sexy Snippets, which is just what I've been wanting. Something to replace Six Sentence Sunday. Somewhere to post sentences, either from a WIP or a published book. So that's what I'm going to do. And I promise that next time, I'll do it earlier.

Today I'm going to post from my newest release, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, my first horror story. Don't forget to see who else is participating, and read their sexy snippets here


Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, now at Muse

Lightning sliced across the night sky like a jagged scar. It briefly illuminated the countryside, throwing twisted-limbed trees into momentary sharp relief. The thick ripe foliage of summer was long gone, and the land was left naked in the barrenness of winter. Several heartbeats later followed the thunder, a dull drumming in the background of the heavens that steadily increased in volume with each repetition.

The horse was skittish and pulled against the reins at the sound, but its rider pressed a reassuring hand against its heaving flank and it grew still once more; the clop of its hoofs echoed eerily in the momentary peace between the waves of sound. A second steed stood beside the first; it, too, pawed the ground in disquiet, its ears flattened against its head, expressive of its disapproval.

“The storm approaches,” the second rider observed...

Of Endings and Beginnings and Cliffhangers

I started a new temp job last Monday, one that's supposed to last two weeks, but I suspect it might last longer. One reason is because I didn't start to do what they actually hired me for until Friday because of corporate slowness. But all's well that ends well. The people there are very nice. I'm working at National Elevator Inspection Services, and it's been interesting so far.

This morning I watched two season finales - Californication and The New Normal.

First, Californication. ***SPOILERS AHEAD*** It's been quite the season. Becca dropped out of school

and decided to become a writer. Hank began to work for spoiled rock star Atticus Fetch and hooked up with a Muse by the name of Faith. Charlie pretended to be gay to get a client. Hank was in rehab (which is where he met Faith). It's been a wild ride, but everything came together in the finale. Hank went to the Greek with Atticus for his concert, where he (Atticus, being an ordained minister, thanks to the Internet) married Charlie and Marcy, and Hank camethisclose to asking Karen to marry him, but the moment passed. But he realized, while on the tour bus, where his heart lies, so he got a ride back, and knocked on Karen's door... and there is the cliffhanger. Damn. Have to wait until next season now! I sincerely hope Karen takes him back, and I'm so happy he left Faith. No offense to her, but I love Hank and Karen together. I think they're meant to be.

I had mixed feelings about The New Normal, I have to admit, and mostly because of Nana, but also because I felt that they were too stereotypical, and trying too hard to be funny. But over the course of the first season, a lot has changed, and I think the show has grown and developed and I really love it. ***SPOILERS AHEAD*** In the two part season finale, we watch David and Bryan plan their wedding, which isn't easy as they have rather divergent tastes. The task is compounded when Bryan's mother arrives, whom he hadn't really planned to invite, and she seems to take David's side in everything. They end up making their choices from a hat, but it all seems to go Bryan's way. They still haven't agreed on a name for the baby. David wants to name him Julius, after his grandfather, and call him Julie, while Bryan wants to name him Thomas. His mother questions which last name they'll use which opens another kettle of fish, esp when she points out that with Bryan's first name choice, he'll either be Tom Sawyer or Tom Collins. Then Bryan's priest tells them he can't officiate at the wedding, because of church policy, which saddens Bryan. Shania decides she wants a new name, so everyone please call her Sarah. The wedding day arrives, and the two mothers decide to walk their sons down the aisle, Clay proposes to Goldie, and Nana wants to talk to Goldie about Brice. But before the I do's can be said, Goldie's water breaks, so it's a mad dash to the hospital, where the baby arrives. Looking at a ultrasound of the baby, David and Bryan find his name, and he becomes Sawyer Collins. Nana, in a surprising turn of events, advises Goldie against accepting Clay's offer, and thanks her for bringing her to California and a new life. Shania - who has gone back to being Shania - runs away, and they find her on the beach, and in her inimical way she makes Goldie see what is important. And then David and Bryan actually do get married, and the priest shows up and officiates. By the end of the first season, I actually like Nana now, and I love Bryan and David together, and hope there'll be a season 2.

The Borgias starts a new season Sunday, and I can't wait. From what I've seen in promos, this is the season when Cesare and Lucrezia get together. 'Nuff said.

Hannibal began two weeks ago, starring Mads Mikkelsen as Dr. Hannibal Lecter and Hugh Dancy as Will

Graham. I had to watch this, of course, as Lecter-obsessed as I am, although I admit to being apprehensive, as I have very high standards where Hannibal is concerned. I don't think Manhunter measures up, and the last time I tried to watch it, I ended up turning it off half way through it. But I was very pleasantly surprised. In fact, I enjoyed NBC's take on the character (which, alas, I cannot say for A&E's Bates Motel which I've already stopped watching). You may remember Mads as Le Chiffre, in Casino Royale. He plays Hannibal very well, and very interestingly, and not in imitation of Anthony Hopkins, but every bit as effectively.

I like Dancy's Will Graham, but Mikkelsen is undoubtedly the star of the show, and I find myself looking forward to seeing him appear in the story. In a twist from the original, Jack Crawford is being played by Lawrence Fishburne, and the Tattler reporter, Freddie Lounds (last seen in Red Dragon, tied into a wheelchair and flaming) is a woman, and just as despicable as her male counterpart. I'm not sure why the change, but maybe we'll find out later.

I watched the first two episodes and enjoyed them. **SPOILERS AHEAD*** In the last episode, they ran across a killer who buried his victims alive and used them to grow mushrooms. It was fascinatingly macabre. I love watching Hannibal and Will working together, also enjoy watching Jack and Hannibal have dinner. So much undertone! And no, not sexual. But we, who know and love Hannibal for what he is, can smirk when he cooks for Jack, knowing that we know what they're eating, even if Jack does not.  I recommend giving this series a try.


All for now, busy day - editing and writing. And errands to run.

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Beware of thin ice... and nefarious publishers

Imagine this scenario, if  you will. You know of a body of water that appears to be frozen, but appearances

can be deceiving, and you know from firsthand experience that it isn't as steady as it appears to be. Perhaps you've even fallen in, or know someone who has.

You hope that this water will refreeze, so that others may enjoy it, but you can't be sure, because you can't see everything, and you're sure something lurks beneath the surface.

The local citizenry doesn't want anyone to know about the thin ice because gosh darn it, it's bad for tourism, which is bad for them, which is bad for... Well, you get the picture. So you don't say a word, and you figure it'll all work out okay. Right?

But then you notice some newcomers, people who don't live around there, and don't know about these things, and they're venturing out onto the ice. Isn't it your civic duty to warn them of the dangers that they can't see? They're strangers in town, gosh darnit, won't somebody help them?

Well, that's how I see what's going on at Silver. There is a lot going on, and a lot of it has been made public knowledge, but still... not public enough. Authors not getting paid properly, deception, using royalties for other than their intended purpose, rudeness, lies... and that's just the tip of the iceberg. I won't go into details, but it's really bad.

And now these people are trying to lure in new authors? Writers who may not be aware of what is going on until it's too late, and they find themselves embroiled in the same morass?

There are authors at Silver who wish no one would speak about the problems, keep it inside, like the skeleton in the family closet. Because without a new influx of writers and income, how can they expect to be paid? They insist it's no one's business, but I disagree. I don't expect them to go around badmouthing their publisher, to cut off their nose to spite their face, so to speak. Then again, they chose to remain when others left.

No, I don't expect them to see the situation as objectively as someone else. They have too much invested in it to do so. But what I do hope and expect is that they would have the decency to warn new authors of the pitfalls of what they're getting into. Sub to Silver at your own peril. If you choose to, that's fine, but at least be aware that there's danger lurking in the water and don't go into it with your eyes closed.

In other words, give new authors the tools and the knowledge to make knowledgeable decisions. Not after the fact, when it's too late to do anything about it, when the contract is a signed fait accompli.

For myself, I advise against signing with Silver, but that's just my opinion. Everyone has to make up their own mind.

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Wednesday Briefs: Stan and Ollie #23

Happy Hump Day! Time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! Something to break up the work week, and something to look forward to!  This week, I used the prompt "you can't hurry love".

As you'll recall, last week  ended with Pastor Will Robinson holding Egbert in the creek, and today the plot is revealed!  Enjoy! And don't forget to visit the other Briefers to see what they're up to!

Stan and Ollie #23

Everything’s starting to come together now and make sense. Well, in a twisted, convoluted sort of way. So Pastor Will Robinson is the father of the young thing that Consuelo’s father—Bodean Fairchild—is involved with in a romantic way. The same young lady about whom the rumors are circulating that she’s with child. False rumors, I might add. But stories that she’s apparently using to fan the flames of Bo’s desire and divert it into an altar-bound course.

New wife, new child... and even though she’s not pregnant now, well, that isn’t hard to do. I mean, before Bo has time to wonder why his new bride isn’t showing in all her pregnant glory, there can be the tragic miscarriage, and the promise to start over. By then there’ll be no rush, and Emmy’s young.

Only one obstacle to all this happily ever after wedded bliss ending—Bo’s already existing, inherit-everything daughter, Consuelo. What’s to be done with Consuelo?

Especially if Consuelo marries and ends up having children of her own. Can’t let that happen, now, could they? Best to nip that particular branch of the family tree in the proverbial bud. Permanently. And there is nothing more permanent than death. At least, as far as I know.

However, we’ve no proof. At this point, it’s our word against theirs. Not to mention, he’s got Egbert in a rather nasty predicament. Apparently he’s contemplating murder number two. Some man of God he is, I can’t help but think.

“You don’t have to do this,” Ollie speaks up. He takes a step toward Robinson, releasing me, but abruptly halts when the pastor tightens his hold on Egbert, who is already short of breath and growing a bit red for comfort. “I won’t hurt you. I only want Egbert.” He holds out his hands to show they are empty.

Of course, with Ollie, I know that means nothing. But I also know he abhors violence.

“I do,” the pastor exclaims. “For the sake of my daughter, I must.”

“Money isn’t everything, you know,” I interject. “She could have married him and had his babies and had a good life. Why did she feel the need to cash out to quickly? You can’t hurry love. I’m sure Bo would have taken care of her in his will. It’s what men do. Why does she need it all?”

“Never question the way of the Lord.” Robinson closes his eyes and I feel my muscles coil, ready to spring, but too quickly those eyes snap open once more, shining with an insane light.

Suddenly, a fierce cry fills the air, and all heads turn toward the sky, from the direction in which it comes. A large red bird with black-tipped wings is diving toward the water...

But not toward us. It’s downstream just a little ways, as if intent on something—or someone. A quick glance at the creek bank and I understand. Consuelo’s ghost has vanished entirely. That tells me her body has been found. And I don’t have to guess by whom. Which means that Consuelo herself will be free to join us momentarily, in a final appearance.

The pastor’s troubled gaze follows the bird’s flight path. He must realize what this means as well, though for different reasons. I’m willing to bet he hid her body there. And not very well.

“You lured her down here, didn’t you, Pastor Robinson?” I attempt to divert his attention from what is happening, focus it on our little tableau of imminent watery death. “You promised a private baptism, did you not, before the wedding? And Consuelo trusted you. She had faith in you, and you killed her.”

His brow furrows, and for a moment I think he’s going to release Egbert in order to gesticulate, but the moment passes and his hold continues. “The Lord’s mysteries,” he mutters. Beads of sweat pop out on his brow, and Egbert seems to be growing redder. Purplish even.

He looks uneasily from us to the bird. “If you had a child... you’d understand,” he mumbles. “You’d know what it means to love...”

“I do know what it means, and this isn’t it. You’re wrong, you’re so very wrong,” I argue. “And sick. You’re sick if you think this is what God intended. God’s about life and love. Not this twisted form of expression you seem to think passes for love.”

I glance at Ollie. His eyes are focused on Robinson, but I can tell he’s got a plan. Sure enough, the scarlet bird, aka Xylina, is winging toward us, screaming bloody murder. The reverend shakes at her approach.

“What is this devil bird?” he cries, instinctively throwing up his hands. In that split second, Ollie moves, faster than the eye can see. He snatches Egbert from the minister’s grasp, grabs me, and then suddenly we’re all on the shore once again.

Trans-location he calls it. Usually I refer to it as cheating, but right now it’s heaven-sent.

The minister has fallen to his knees, covering his head with his hands to protect himself from the assumed onslaught of the giant bird. But I know better. Ollie won’t allow Xylina to harm him. Whether he deserves it or not. That’s not for us to say. That’s up to the law.

But she can hold him at bay while we attend to other matters, anyway.

Egbert is breathing in short gasps, shaking like a leaf in a strong wind. Ollie puts a comforting arm about him, and he gradually gains some measure of control. Poor guy. His pain has only just begun, but at least he can start the slow road to recovery.

“He... he k-killed my Consuelo?” He looks back and forth between us. I can see tears glisten in his eyes. I feel sorry for him. It’ll get worse before it gets better.

Now comes the hard part. It’s time for them to say good-bye.

 to be continued

Now, check out my fellow Briefers!

Lily Sawyer     

MA Church    

Michael Mandrake  

Cia Nordwell    

Andrew Gordon

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Guest Blogger Eden Connor

Please welcome my friend and fellow author Eden Connor today! She's going to talk about her new release,

Breaking Glass, prequel to her Carmine Club chronicles. She's going to tell us a little bit about how it came to me. Eden, why don't  you start, while I make us something to drink?

Breaking Glass is the prequel to my upcoming series, Carmine Club. I wanted to blend baggage—the relationship wreckage we all drag through life—with an exploration of female sex fantasies. I’m a southern gal, born and raised in North Carolina and a resident of South Carolina since I showed up for my first day at Converse College. I’ve always felt southern women get an extra shot of shame about sex.

True story: After my husband died unexpectedly at the age of thirty-eight, my mother came to stay with me and my children for a few weeks. We’d taken my nine-year-old daughter to the movies. You know how kids delight in shaming you in front of your mother? Yeah, so mine crawls into the back seat, and while I’m trying to negotiate the mall traffic, she tells her nana a joke she heard at school… the punch line was “sixty-nine”. Yes, that sixty-nine. Before I could get my lips pried apart to dive into the damage control, my mother turns in her seat to pin my daughter with that look. Her tone had tines like October hoarfrost when she said, “Channing. I hope you know, men and women don’t actually kiss each other there.”

Here’s the real punch line. My mother believed this nonsense. To her, if a man needed that, he should pay a prostitute, no harm, no foul. (Actually, I suspect she’d have cried foul aplenty had my stepfather taken her up on this oft-repeated statement, but I digress.) Here she was, imprinting this garbage on my daughter. And I knew this was the moment I had to make a choice. Either I’d fall in line and start building that burden of shame on the head of the next generation, or let my daughter know, in age-appropriate terms, I believed oral sex between consenting adults is not only okay, but downright essential to a healthy relationship. What happened? Here’s a hint: My mother packed her bags and left for Charleston the next morning. I think it’s fair to say, no one can hold a candle to a southern mama when it comes to letting her offspring know they’ve stepped out of line. Doesn’t much matter if you’re four or forty.

Breaking Glass was my jumping-off point. The story begins after a young woman, Jillian Carmichael, confesses her desire for a threesome—to a husband raised by a woman you might suspect is my mother’s twin, if she’d had one. Jillian gets some divine assistance to put the pieces of her marriage back together.

I’ll admit, Eros is the character who speaks for me, because I wrestle with believing in the higher power who started the shame game with Eve, for daring to want to know all things.


The air in the narrow hall outside the deli's restrooms was stifling, making sweat pop out on Dylan's chest. The stage manager frowned, stroking his chin. "Can you unbutton the shirt? No, no, leave the tie knotted around your neck. Pull it out from under the collar."  The young guys out on the deli floor wore stiff collars and cuffs only, similar to ones worn by male strippers at a show Jillian dragged him to see a couple of nights before their wedding.

EXCERPT:

 Squeezing his eyes closed while fumbling to get his button-down collar loose, Dylan could almost feel her hair spilling over his thighs, recalling the way she dared him to pull down his pants, then leaned across the front seat to suck him off while he drove them home. The point here is not to shoot. Dismayed, he opened his eyes, looking down at the rising bulge in the front of the tacky red boxers they made him wear. All afternoon, he'd gotten hard for no reason. No, all afternoon, I've been thinking about Jill. He'd never met a woman who loved cock the way his wife did.

Ex-wife. Almost. Besides, wasn't that the problem?

Snatching the last piece of his costume from the show organizer's hand, Dylan raked his hair from his eyes before he yanked the perforated leather hood over his head. The mask limited his field of vision and made his face hot, but he could tell from his reflection in the mirror visible through the open door of the men's room, it obscured his identity. Turning to peer through the doorway again, he watched the younger performers strutting between the tables full of chattering females as casually as if they’d been delivering sub sandwiches instead of their personal salamis. Tugging at the waistband of the silk boxers, he wished the elastic was tighter. These things were made to come down.

He couldn't figure out what made him agree to this nonsense. The memory of the bastard's taunts were damn sure what kept him here. He didn't have trouble getting it up. Maybe he’d buy a new watch from Teague when he took Joe’s money, something he could rub in the man’s face several times a day.

"The bride’s the one in the red dress," the show manager whispered, tying the laces on the back of Dylan’s hood. "Be sure you pose for photographs with her and give her a lot of attention." He patted Dylan on the shoulder. "They’ve been drinking for about ninety minutes, so they should be ready drop their inhibitions along with your shorts."  His laughter tickled the back of Dylan’s neck. “If you’re lucky, maybe a few will have cold hands. My boy here’s undefeated.”

Dylan cast a look at the other half of the finale, a dark-haired guy about his age, wearing dark-rimmed glasses. He looked like an accountant. Pulling off the glasses, the guy folded them. The stage manager slipped them into his shirt pocket while the performer pulled the leather mask over his head.

"Good luck dude. Nice suit. Try not to get cum stains on it." The other man held out a fist while the stage manager scurried behind him to tie his mask.

"At least I can afford to get them cleaned if I do." Dylan gave the performer's cheap suit a scornful glance, bumping his outstretched fist harder than necessary.

Hard pressure at the base of his spine propelled him into the room. A smattering of applause and a few shrill whistles greeted him above the music crackling from cheap speakers. He'd made too many public presentations to suffer from stage fright, but he hadn't taken many steps before he froze, blinking in shock. More than one woman had bared her breasts. Moving resolutely toward the bride-to-be, he couldn't help staring. Soft hands stroked his thighs and chest. One woman grabbed his necktie, but Dylan didn't stop wading through the crowd, determined to get to the table where the bride sat.

Speaking of brides. Holy hell. Dylan blinked. And blinked again.

While the bleached blonde in the scarlet dress seemed to be trying to decide if she wanted to touch Dylan’s cock, he gaped at his wife. His wife. She lifted the Nikon he’d bought her, pointing it at him. There was no way Jill could know it was him underneath the hood, but his heart pounded furiously. His cock reared up, as if that part of him wanted its own look at her and his racing pulse thudded in his groin.

"C’mon, Steph, get these new soldiers standing at attention," Jillian urged, laughing. Her glossy hair swung round her shoulders when she tossed her head. "Make that cock sit up and beg, girl."

Dylan didn't have time to wonder whether or not the groom would mind if he knew his bride-to-be bride was sliding her hand under the leg of his shorts. He was too busy staring at the leather bustier Jillian wore. I damn well better not have paid for that. Three straps connected to a black leather collar with sturdy silver rings. The snug leather around her rib cage was impaled by bright silver studs. But when she shrugged out of the short sweater she wore over the mind-blowing garment, Dylan got hard in a hurry when he saw the corset had no cups.

Sometime since he’d last seen his wife’s breasts, Jillian had pierced her left nipple. Dylan was struck by the urge to suck the ring dangling from the sweet tip into his mouth. His fingers itched to slide under the trashy skirt.

He was positive she’d be wet.

*****
Breaking Glass led to Carmine Club, not surprisingly, a story about a southern woman. In fact, there are stories about many southern women throughout the series, and when we leave each one, we’ll be assured the main characters are well on their way to falling in love. But running in the background is the story of Willa Davis Seachrist. Willa’s father is Judge Brockman Davis. Her mother was Brock’s scandalously younger second wife, Stella. Before she can walk, Willa already senses there’s a price to be paid for stepping out of line in society. Following your heart is a rocky road, particularly in a society where tradition is prized above all. It’s a theme I poke at a lot, being both sexual and southern. Willa takes a poke at tradition too. She becomes a pimp. Once a month, behind the locked gates of her antebellum home, she auctions her female friend’s sexual fantasies to her cadre of male members, satisfaction guaranteed.

Eden’s links: Blog |Twitter| Facebook
Breaking Glass: Amazon| Kobo

Thanks for stopping by, Eden, come back soon!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

More good news

I intended to post this morning, but I received an unexpected call from my temp agency, at 7:40, as I was just getting on the computer, asking if I wanted to work for two weeks. Of course I said yes. The job is from 7 to 3:30, and they want you there today, she says. Well, needless to say I couldn't get there at 7, but I made it by 9 and all was well. I'm working for an elevator inspection service, looking up zip codes to put in their database. Not hard at all lol

In other news, Revelations got a 5 angel review from Fallen Angels!  I am beyond excited!




"I will always remember this book!"


An awesome review of Revelations from Theresa at Fallen Angels Review! I'm on Cloud Nine and jumping for joy!


http://fallenangelreviews.com/2013/March/teresa-revelations.htm#.UWHKPKKBg-A

Check it out!

Gotta catch up with editing now, since I was gone all day!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Guest Blogger Killarney Sheffield

Please welcome back author Killarney Sheffield, who's going to talk about the inspiration for her newest release, Through Gypsy Eyes.

Hello, let me introduce myself. My name is Killarney Sheffield, the author of ‘Through Gypsy Eyes’ releasing from Crimson Romance on April 15^th 2013. ‘Through Gypsy Eyes’ is my 8^th published novel.

Many people have asked me just how I came up with the idea of a blind heroine and a guide animal in the form of a seeing eye pony named Jester. Like many authors, I sometimes struggle with ‘showing’ vs ‘telling’ and developing the sensory dimensions in a novel. I started writing a short piece from a blind woman’s POV. Obviously my character could not ‘see’ the world around her, but had to interpret it through touch, taste, smell, and the sounds around her. It is a wonderful exercise that really helped me connect with Delilah. The story just took off from there and refused to stay quiet until I seriously wrote her story and for me, as a Canadian farm gal ,a book is never complete without some kind of animal sidekick. Most people would have gone with the guide dog approach but, I hate to offend anyone here, I am just not a dog person. My whole life has been spent around show horses of various breeds and disciplines. As I was thinking on an animal sidekick, I remembered an old show I saw once on ‘Animal Planet’ about a lady in the USA who trained miniature horses to be guides for the blind. She used a harness similar to a dogs, put cute little sneakers on the pony’s feet for traction and house trained them. These remarkable little creatures could do everything a guide dog could and posed less allergy problem. From this simple show the idea behind Jester was born and he quickly became a most endearing character who threatened to steal the story in more than a few scenes! You can view a quick teaser of the tale here: http://youtu.be/S6qfLlbIkxA

True to my love of critters big and small, I am currently polishing another historical romance novel with suspense, adventure and paranormal aspects to it titled ‘Love’s Magic’. It is the story of a female magician and her unusual sidekick, a black Holland rabbit named Dexter. 

Pre-release review for Through Gypsy Eyes.

Through Gypsy Eyes is not your usual romantic novel, and is all the better for it. The author has a compelling way of writing her stories. She is a master at choosing the few words that make a character come to life for the reader, of offering you people and situations larger than life but with the ring of truth. Ms. Sheffield's characters have virtues, flaws, and challenges, traits that make you want to read on into the night.  And of course, in Through Gypsy Eyes, there is the pony, a very endearing addition.

Heather Haven, author of The Alvarez Family Murder Mysteries and The Persephone Cole Mystery Series.

Blurb for Through Gypsy Eyes

Delilah Daysland doesn’t see herself as marriage material. After all, who could love a woman locked in darkness?Try telling that to Lord Tyrone Frost. He’s determined to do his duty and see her wed to a suitable gentleman, as the King commands.Delilah has other plans. Convinced her father’s death was no accident, she must depend upon her pony Jester to guide her through everyday challenges as she seeks the truth behind mystery, murder, and deception. Though drawn to Tyrone she’s afraid to trust him, until she sees the world and love through gypsy eyes.
Buy link/publisher link

http://www.crimsonromance.com/upcoming-releases-romance-ebook/through-gypsy-eyes/