Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Party time!

Hello all!! This evening, CJ Ellisson
will be hosting the March Reader Party
on Facebook. If you get a chance stop by and check out all the great authors. Yours truly will be there. CJ hosts the event every month and it's always a blast. Stop by and check us us. You know you want to...

Friday, March 7, 2014

A tease?

Hello!  I've been working on the last part of the Perry Series and I gotta tell you... it's pretty awesome.  It's the last installment and you are going to love it.  Love.  It. 

Okay, I know I'm the author so I have no right to tell you how awesome it is.  You're supposed to tell me.  But I'm telling you!  You're.  Gonna.  Love It!  (In my best Samael voice)  And since I'm such a nice author I've chosen to share a few pages.

Whatdya think?  Here go the first few pages of  da da daaammmm... Becoming Angels!

Are you just as excited as I am???
 

Becoming Angels



           

“Perrian, you need to eat?”
“Haines, please go away.”
The door to my bedroom opens wider and I turn my face away from the light of the hallway.  I’ve been lying in the bed for the past day or so, only getting up to use the bathroom.  They’ve brought me food but, I can’t eat.  Part of me hopes that if I lay here long enough maybe I’ll wither away.  “Please, Haines.  Just go.  I don’t want to talk.”
 “You need to feed.”  The bed dips as he sits down behind me.  “It’s been two days.  I think you’re still bleeding.”
I shift and burry my face deeper into the pillows.  They smelled of dryer sheets for the first day.  “I can’t feed.  I keep thinking about my dad.  Anything sexual just…”
“You need to be strong.  The funeral is tomorrow and you can’t go with a hole through your body.”
After Samael killed my father Haines brought me and my mom back home.  Our home?  Aunt Rita took care of the body. 
My father’s body.
Aunt Rita is taking care of everything.  She put a ward around the house so that Samael couldn’t come in to do any more damage.  She’d figured it out the night my dad was murdered.  She was so excited that she finally managed to angel proof the house that she called at three in the morning to let us know. 
I lift my head and look at Haines.  “Did Aunt Rita ward Ryan and Trent’s house?  Your brother’s house?”
He lifts up my shirt to look at my stomach.  Samael used a bedpost from my parent’s bed to impale me to the wall in their bedroom.
“Yes,” he says, frowning.  “Rita sent the instructions to a local coven near my brother’s home.  She’s also working on a way to keep everyone safe when they’re not at home.  Especially for Roman and my new niece.”  He smiles.  “Her name is Riley.  Riley Marie.  She was born a few hours ago.”  His face lights up.
A ghost of a smile teases my lips.  “That’s beautiful.”  I flinch as he pulls the bandage off of my wound. 
            “My God.”  He gently returns the bandage and goes to the one on my back.  “You are healing.   I’ve never—”
“Demonic angel, remember?” I say, pulling my shirt down so he can stop gawking at me.  “Or would that be Angelic demon?” 
My mother is full-blooded succubus, a demon, and my father was an angel.  He wasn’t an angel when he died.  My mom and dad had some twisted, forbidden affair for the past few hundred years.  When my mother found out she was pregnant with me, my father fell from grace and became a mortal.  I’m what you get when an angel and a demon procreate. 
“You are amazing, Perrian.”
“I am useless, Haines.  I can’t do anything.”  As I lay back, a sharp pain shoots through my body where the wooden post once was.  “Samael is going to start killing people in less than a week if I don’t give in to him.”
Haines kicks off his slippers and lies down behind me, spooning me.  When did we get so comfortable with one another?
“You can kill him.”
“How?  With my bare hands?  Maybe I’ll seduce him and see if that’ll do it.  Drink him dry.”
He shakes his head.  “I don’t know.  Your aunt says there are ways.”
“Maybe he’ll stay still long enough for me to do it,” I say sarcastically.
I have no idea how to kill an angel.  A batshit crazy angel.  Maybe I should pray for God to take him.  Is that even allowed?  Dear God, kill this crazy angel to make him stop terrorizing me and my family because he thinks I am an abomination.  And I pray for world peace.  Amen.
“I’m sorry.  We can talk about it later.”  He scoots up closer behind me.  “You have to feed, Perrian.”
I sigh and wince. 
“Does it hurt to breathe?”
“Yes.  Hurts to talk, too,” I say, pushing him away.  “Leave me alone.”
 “No.” He moves closer to me.  “I’m not going to leave you alone.”
I pull my legs up to my chest.  “No!  I haven’t taken a bath.  And I’m pretty sure being impaled and having your blood ooze out of your body for two days doesn’t nice smell.  I just want to lay here and be sad!”
            “Perrian—”
Why won’t he give it a rest?  I’ve been listening to him and my mother and my aunt the past few days tell me how I need to be strong and keep my chin up and it all sounds stupid.  They’re trying to encourage me but it just makes me feel even worse.  Even more powerless.  I don’t know what to do and having them tell me that I am strong enough makes me feel even less so.
“I’m supposed to save my family and friends and the only way I know how to do that is to die!”  I sweep away my tears.  “And I’m not ready to die.”
“You’re not going to die,” my mother says from the bedroom door.  “We don’t have time for this.”  She comes in and kneels in front of me.  “I’m sad, too, Perry.  But we’ve got to figure out how to get rid of that crazy bastard, so let your husband feed you so you can be ready.” 
Dear God, please make them shut-up and go away.  Is that a mean prayer?
She uses her sleeve to wipe away the tears and snot (only a mother) that are about to ruin my pillow.  “Tomorrow morning, we’re going to have a home going service for your father.  Your aunt and I are going to the Wiccan shop to get whatever she needs to finish the satchels that will protect us from Samael.  And then we’re going to collect kindling for your father’s funeral pyre.” 
I look her in the eyes and shake my head.  “I can’t kill him.  I don’t even know how.  It’s not like I can cut off his head or shoot him.  Maybe I’ll impale him.”
She smiles.  “We’ll figure it out.  Rita will figure it out.”  She sighs.  “Your father—”
“Is dead, so please.  Don’t tell me what he would want me to do.  Auntie came in with that crap last night.”
“Perrian!”  Haines says.  “Don’t talk to your mother like that.”
I gather as much strength as I can and push myself up off of the bed.  “Just get out!  Both of you.”  I wrap my arms around my belly and double over as I stand.  “Don’t bother.  I’m leaving.  I’m going to take a shower to get this blood off of me and pick out the shards of wood that I can feel rattling around in my belly.  And then I’m going back to sleep.” 
Pushing against the wall for support, I look up and see bloody hand prints next to me. 
Yup, I’m still bleeding.
“I could have been prepared for this,” I say, looking at my mother.  “You and dad lied to me.”  This is their fault.  My mother and father tried to protect me and did nothing but set me up for failure.  My nose begins to tickle and I start panicking.  What the hell is that smell?  Rita’s fucking spices!
Dear God, please don’t let me sneeze.  The first time I sneezed the night my father was killed, I almost passed out.  The pain radiated out from my wound and I thought I would die. 
“Goddammit!”  I sneeze and everything looks fuzzy.  I fall to my knees and sneeze again.  “Jesus,” I whisper. 
Haines jumps up and begins to walk toward me.  “Perrian.  You can’t say like this.”
“Don’t you touch me!” 
I deserve to be in pain.  To feel like I’m being ripped in half.  This is what I deserve for letting my father die.  There’s nothing I can do to help them.  It’s not their fault.  It’s mine.  It’s my fault my dad is dead.  Not my mother’s. 
I sneeze again and see black spots as I begin to lose consciousness.
            Lilith, please, just let me die.   








Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Dirty Romance?



All things paranormal are my thing: novels, novellas, movies, flash fiction, tours.  I love it.  And by tours I mean the ghost tour in New Orleans (I love, love love New Orleans!).  I love paranormal stuff so much, I write paranormal fiction.  It’s my jam.  My lady jam.  Very rarely do I stray from speculative fiction books.  But an author has lead me astray.  
A few months ago I read a book called The Vampire Coalition by J.S. Scott.  I downloaded the first one for free and then I was hooked.  My new book boyfriend is Rory from The Vampire Coalition.  Hmm… Rory.  He’s so big and sexy and big.  I’ve never laid eyeballs on this fictitious dude but I know exactly what he looks like.  Hmm… Rory.  So big and…
I’m getting away from myself. 
Anyway, after reading the complete series I started checking out her other books.  The Billionaire’s Obsession series was one of them.  Even though I’m tired of the whole I’m-so-rich-and-sexy-and-I’m-going-to-save-you-and-make-sweet-love-to-you-gurl kind of books I completely fell in lust, I—I mean in love, with these dudes.  The women in these books are far from damsels in distress.  They are hard working, independent women who just happen to fall in love with large, muscled men that have like a gazillion dollars.  These ladies don’t allow these Alpha-males to push them around.  Maybe that’s what draws me to these books.  None of the women are helpless.  They know what they want, and what they don’t want, and go after it.  And the guys are pretty much putty in their hands.  The awesome descriptions of each of these sexy men are so vivid, they leave me theoretically clutching my pearls.   I love it!   
Erotic romance and contemporary romance.  Who would have thought I would read these books?  I didn’t!  Don’t get me wrong, I step outside of my comfort genre often but romance usually makes me gag.  Reading about ‘her sweet, heaving bosom’ and ‘passion-filled eyes’, yuk.  It just doesn’t float my boat.  I guess when it comes down to the romance genre I like it funny, interesting and dirty.  That’s the gist of it.  I like my romance dirty. 
Wow, does that say something about me?   Who cares.