Erotic Gothic-esque Romance

It’s about to begin. This scary thing where I do an installments for the next foreseeable future. Not every month, but pretty close. I have the first one, it’s rough. I tried to edit, but my mind isn’t as clear as I’d like. Plus, you, dear reader, are my guinea pig. So, while you read this, know that the story might change, evolve, and become something different… because I am writing it almost as soon as you are reading it. So, the final version might be altered. But the basic sorry will remain. I don’t even have a name for it yet. It’s sitting in Scrivener as “erotic gothic.” I gave you two installments as the first just to get things going. Plus, I think October is the month that will see me the least able to post the next installment. So you get double– right now. And maybe nothing next month or something very small. Bear with me. Seriously, this is a good story. At least, I think so.

So, here goes.


The Beginning

The drive had been long and mostly quiet. The night noises were cut with the roar of the old engine. Both the quiet and the dark were uncomfortable. It seemed like they driven forever.

The moist air seeped in through the cracked driver’s side window. It was laced almost continuously with the scent of burning tobacco. The further they drove the wetter the air became. Her too small clothing shrank even further.

She thought that they might drive all night and watch as the sun rose over the eastern sky. But just as she came up with that possibility, the car turned. Not that they hadn’t turned off a road or two before this one. But the others were merges while this turn was abrupt. Sharp. The quality of the road had changed as well. The road wasn’t as smooth.

It was rougher. Slightly coarse.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she saw the house. It was huge. The only way to tell anything approximating size was the blurry background a structure made against the night sky’s light. But this night, the moon wasn’t bright. Still, the house took up a good deal of real estate even from the faint feeling it gave off by taking up what little light there was to be had.

It was quiet around the house.

She wasn’t sure when the animal sounds had stopped. The chirping of night insects had also ceased their singing as well.

Still no one spoke.

She wasn’t expecting it. She could count on one hand the number of times the man beside her had spoken to her. He didn’t speak much as it was. But to her that little amount was close to nonexistent. She was grateful for that, however. Every time he had chosen to speak to her, bad things had occurred. Mostly, he beat her. She preferred it when he pretended as if she didn’t exist.

The last time he’d spoken to her had been two nights before, after they’d buried her mother. He told her she had to go. She hadn’t understood what he meant then. She’d still been reeling from her mother’s sudden death. Well, sudden if you didn’t consider the history of the man beating her on the regular. Sudden in that it wasn’t natural causes. It was man-made. By the man who told her she had to go.

She understood now. She should’ve left when she had a chance. Left everything and walked away. But she hadn’t understood then. He was making her go and now she didn’t have a choice as to where she was going.

To this house.

He said she was being traded for a debt. Labor for debt. Her labor and his debt. Then he’d thrown her in the car and started driving.

He drove up the long driveway that had turned off the coarse road. They passed the front of the house and followed a smaller driveway to the side and finally to the back of the house. The car jerked to a sudden stop. The man got out and opened the trunk. A few seconds later, the trunk closed. He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door and pulled her out.

“Stay,” he said as he cuffed her upside the head.

He walked around t the drivers side, got in and drove away. All without another glance or word to her. She knew because she hadn’t stopped staring at him or the car. Even when he couldn’t be seen anymore inside the car. And even until she couldn’t see the car anymore after it turned back onto the coarse road. No doubt he was retracing his steps.

She stared for longer than she should have considering she was still in her pajamas. And although it was hot, it was still wet outside. And it was still dark.

She looked around and saw a door.

She walked up to it and knocked.

The door thudded. It wasn’t an insubstantial sound. There wasn’t a doorbell on the back door, either.
She had no notice when the door swung open. The door had dampened anyone’s approaching noise.

“Who are you and what do you want at this hour?” asked an older portly woman in a cheap robe covering incredibly furry slippers.

“Annalise,” she whispered.

“Who?” the woman asked again peering around to look behind Annalise.

“Annalise,” she said in a louder voice, or at least she hoped she had.

“How’d you get here?”

“Aaron dropped me off,” she replied.

“Why are you here?” the woman asked.

“Debt.”

She couldn’t say anything more. But saw some small spark of knowledge dawning in the woman’s eyes. And pity. Annalise saw pity before it was squelched completely out.

Annalise swallowed.

“Come,” the woman said. “I’m Margaret. Call me Maggie. I’ll get you a place to sleep tonight and we’ll sort everything out in the morning. It’s too early to try and tangle this out now.”

She wasn’t sure what worried her more. The strangeness of where she’d been dropped off or that the own who answered the door hadn’t hesitated more than a minute before letting her in… as if her arrival wasn’t unusual or out of the ordinary.

#MeToo

There is another thing happening on social media about women facing harassment or sexual assault. And as always the first couple of days are filled with solidarity and kumbiya moments. Further, as the days wear on, another group shows up.

This group is the THAT’S NOT ENOUGH group.

Without much effort, they tell the women who have been sharing their hash tagged MeToo that they aren’t doing enough. Just by speaking up.

It’s not enough that they bare their wounds to the world in open daylight.

Some how, again, they aren’t enough. Their response isn’t enough.

Which is what their attackers made them feel, of course. That they wren’t enough to be treated with human decency. That they weren’t enough to be given consideration to feel secure in the physical safety. That they weren’t enough of a human even to treat with basic decency. That they weren’t enough and everything they had could be taken without asking and without impunity.

At some point, they come forward. And join in a moment to show just how prevalent sexual assault is. Then they get told that they aren’t enough. They aren’t saying enough. They aren’t doing enough. They aren’t enough.

Fuck you and your enough bullshit.

Listen, the first step to fixing a problem is identifying it. I really wish these never enough bitches had taken some basic and rudimentary science classes, wherein they might’ve learned that they hypothesis is JUST AS IMPORTANT as the experiment. Sometimes, it’s the key. Because asking the right questions gets you to the answer faster. While wrong questions gets you more hypothesis and more testing and revisions and more work.

If every woman who has been sexually assaulted says me, too out loud, that is all that is needed to highlight the pervasiveness of sexual assault. It happens everyday to every women everywhere.

Because there are people- in positions of power, positions of trust, position to help- who don’t know. Who don’t understand just how all encompassing this shit is.

Once we can get everyone on the page with this shit happens everyday and maybe we should do something about, then and only then should the next step be asked about. The what have you done for it lately crowd gets to get in the spotlight. Until then, #metoo.

Best Women’s Erotica of the Year

Release days are always special days. And this year starts off with a bang. I have a short story in Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Vol. 1, called Date Night. The stories contained and curated by Rachel Kramer Bussel on behalf of Cleis Press are nothing short of brilliant. Go take a peek-see and I’m sure you’ll be as smitten as I am.

 

It’s a little steamy and a whole lot hot.

And here’s a little secret… the location I used is a pretty well-known Anchorage bar. One that I think has a cool, sexy vibe. So, for parents and lovers everywhere,  I hope that Date Night inspires one of your own.

Amazon

Romance on the Rocks

Martinis and Romance, Romance and Martinis. Which came first? And does it even really matter?

I don’t think so.

But what is coming first, middle and last, is Romance on the Rocks. It’s a new blog, yo. With some really great writers of all the things that are sexy and fabulous.

And the theme? You guessed it. Our favorite cocktails! Mine of course is the dirty martini. I love the olive juice as it cuts against the clear liquid. In the beginning, I began with vodka. Because it’s clear and tasteless. But I have since learned to love the gin. But… it has to be a softer gin. Like Boodles or Plymouth. Regardless, I am digging on regular martinis in addition to my dirty ones. Every once in a while, I still bust out the olive juice. But now, I use olives stuffed with blue cheese. I’ve heard of these being called dirty executives. I likey. So Dirty Executive, it is. Regardless of which martini drink you might favor, they are all delish.

Now, crack open a bottle and grab a man or a book and drink, people. Alcohol is the lube of life. And when it comes to Romance, alcohol makes everything go down far more smoothly.

Here’s the link to the fabulous new blog. Romance on the Rocks

Being Asian Doesn’t Make Me ….

More like white women. It does statistically mean I will fall more within their range than any other women of color. Asians are punished less, in schools and by police. It’s part of the cultural stereotype.

But it hides a far more insidious comparison, one that most people don’t even realize. And it revolves around Asian sexuality. Isn’t it funny how Asian men are seen as emasculated or feminine or some other way softer? Even though we have ninja movies, karate movies, we know about Genghis Khan, mobs like the Triad and the like, we don’t see Asian men as testosterone-laden threats. And it shows up in arrest numbers and incarceration numbers. Cops just don’t generally pull over clean cut Asian dudes. Not like the black guys that drive.

At the same time, Asian women are highly sexualized. And not in a good way. We are desired because we look like prepubescent boys for far longer than any other ethnicity. Men go to Asia not just to fuck and marry little girls, they’re are those that just want a woman who looks like little girl. The mount of human trafficking of Asian women is out of this world. It seems the entire world of men are obsessed with women who look like little girls. And my Asian sisters bear the brunt of this desire.

Don’t get me wrong, other ethnicities are sexualized as well. Think of the media’s portrayal of the lush, overblown Latina. Or the strong, loud black woman who will break you with her punanai. But there is an insidious sickness when male eyes turn toward Asian women, you know those of us who look like we’re twelve even when we’re thirty. Subservience isn’t just expected, it’s demanded. And having a child-like or a real  girl child as your sexual partner means you can treat them as children all the while fucking them to death. In many parts of the world, Asian girls are discarded as unwanted only to be swooped up by the predators who know just who to  tap. I’ve heard there are entire travel industries set up for Western men to go a pick up a young Asian girl, whether in fact or in looks.

And when we finally get a voice to stalk about some stuff, are we heard on our own? No, we get lumped in with the white girls. Now, I’m not dissing my light skinned sisters, but seriously? Do you even know what it’s like to not know math in a group of math overachievers? And I say that tongue in cheek. But you have no idea how many stereotypes I have to wade through each day just to get to my preferred endeavor with words.

I get why so many of my feminist brothers and sisters tend to lump us in with the white girls. In many ways, we escape the stigma of having darker colored skin. As we’ve seen recently, being black in America can be a dangerous thing. Asian women  and men generally escape this portion of the discrimination our country seems to want to mete out. But I gotta tell you, as Asian women, we only get the benefit of being lumped together with the white girls… until we don’t.

We’re largely ignored in the larger feminist dialogue. So we’ve become the invisible women wanting to know when it’ll be our time to shine, to have our fears voiced and our concerns addressed.

Things Readers SHOULD Ask Authors

Look if you’re a reader, ask me anything. I don’t care. I want your questions. I want your insights. I want your responses. And I’ll respond back. If I don’t, it’s because I didn’t see it. Bring it to my attention. I love interaction. LOVE. It. Authors who don’t like to interact with readers are like dinosaurs. They’re gonna get extinct. Usually, by human action.

So, totally tongue-in-cheek. Because apparently, there are bitch writers out there. I’m a bitch. But not a bitch writer. Totally different, yo. So, totally tongue-in-cheek, here are 5 questions you SHOULD ask your (un)favorite author. 😉

1. Do you write naked? ‘Cause you laid some shit out in the book that maybe would’ve been better off covered. Author, cover they self so you can cover yourself in your work.

2. Did you steal that one great story idea, because all your other story ideas kinda suck?

3. You’ve never has sex have you? Because have you TRIED what you’ve written about? Only a total noob to fucking would write a sex scene like that.

4. You paid someone to publish your book, didn’t you?

5. Did your mom buy all those books that Amazon lists as sold?

Now, I know I’m going to get some shit for this. But seriously? Being polite costs nothing. Being a dick? Everything. Don’t be a dick!

Spring Fling Blog Hop Winner & NIGHT BLIND Release Day

springflinghop

We have a winner, boys and girls!

BookLady is the winner of my portion of the blog hop and is getting an ebook copy of FARSEEN. Keep checking back to see who wins the big rafflecopter prizes.  Woohoo for her! 🙂

Thank you to everyone who participated and made the blog hop a fabulous success! I had a really good time and I hope all of you did as well.

***

And the goodness doesn’t just stop there. 😉 Today is the day that NIGHT BLIND is on general release from Totally Bound. They are a fabulous group of people and my book can’t help but to have some of that fabulousness rub off on it.

 

nightblind_postcard

NIGHT BLIND

Night Blind is Part 2 of the OtherKind Prequel. FarSeen is Part 1.  They are both standalone novellas in their own right. However, they are best read together.

 

Warning… maybe: One shifter new to manlove, one witch new to threesomes, and one vampire who’s been there and done that… a thousand times. At least. They’re all new to each other. Add in crazed bad guys unleashing diseases of mass destruction, and well… what happens in Dallas, it’s not gonna stay in Dallas. Light m/m action, some anal and LOTS of hot menage.

 

EXCERPT:

He walked toward her. Stalked would be a more apt description.

“Are you hungry, little witch?” he purred.

“No.”

“Good.”

He took her face into his hands. Slowly, so she had time to protest, he brought his mouth closer to hers. Um, yeah, she was so not going to protest. Her magic flung itself out and wrapped around Lucien, rubbing up against his power. She didn’t need to see to know what it was doing. The rubbing was shooting sparks all over her body.

He brought his hand to the underside of her hair at the nape of her neck. He twined his fingers into her curls and gripped. Not hard but very firm. Using his leverage, he kept her head completely still.

He covered her mouth with his, almost touching. She could feel his breath on her lips, warm and humid. She couldn’t move her head, not one millimeter, his hold on her was that firm. All she could do was wait, wait for him to make the next move.

She knew vampires were notoriously controlling. She hadn’t thought about what that meant in the bedroom. Lucien was the Lord of the East. How much more controlling would he be compared to others of his kind? She had a feeling she was about to find out.

He bit down on her bottom lip. Then he licked the bite as if to soothe it. It did the opposite and shot her arousal into the stratosphere. She’d always liked a bit of pain with her pleasure. She had a feeling, though, her boundaries in that regard were going to be tested.

 

BUY LINKS:

Amazon
AllRomance
Barnes and Noble

nightblind_banner

Autism Awareness Blog Hop

April is Autism awareness month, with April 2 as its official “day,” and there’s an autism awareness blog hop going on… so. Here we are.

Click the pic to go to the main hop page

I’m not sure why there’s been such a huge increase in incident of autism. Seemingly rational people become not so much when discussing the same. Still, I don’t remember anyone being diagnosed with autism when I was growing up. But I do know several children today who have one form or another. So to increase awareness, to bring attention, and to generally be supportive, this blog hop is taking place.

Perhaps the best known form of autism is Asperger syndrome. People with Asperger syndrome are often of average or above-average intelligence. They have fewer problems with speech than people with other types of autism, but may find it difficult to understand and process language. I have two friends with sons who have Asperger’s. They are bright, funny boys. And because they have Asperger’s many times people can’t tell. But even the milder forms of autism need help and therapy and to have other’s made aware of this serious condition.

In honor of this month and all the fabulous people who are so supportive, I’m giving away an ebook copy of either FarSeen or Hat Trick, the choice is yours. I would supply a copy of Night Blind, but it’s not released yet (hint: I will be doing a hop later this month giving away an ebook copy of Night Blind). So if you pick FarSeen, and then Night Blind sometime later, you’ll have both parts of the OtherKind Prequel. So leave me a comment about anything, even if it doesn’t have anything to do with autism. I’ll draw the winner on April 15- TAX DAY! You know, cause SOMETHING good should happen that day. lol

 

 

Saturday Snippet: More Night Blind

NIGHT BLIND is available for immediate download over at the Totally Bound website. Click on the pic and it’ll take you right on over there. General release will be April 25, 2014. But why wait until then? Sheesh… instant gratification, peeps. ‘Nuff said. 😉
nightblind_800_2

Preorder: 14th March 2014 (preorder through TEB website)
Prerelease: 28th March 2014 (available to buy on TEB website)
General Release: 25th April 2014 (available everywhere)

BLURB:

As Lucien, Rory, and Ellie navigate the intricacies of a full triad, including one man new to man-love, they also have to seek and destroy the source of the sickness afflicting witches.

Every Vampire Lord needs a shifter bodyguard. Rory has been Lucien’s for a while now. And although Rory’s been protecting Lucien’s body, Lucien has been just plain lusting after Rory. Unfortunately, Rory’s been rebuffing Lucien’s advances. That is, until Ellie comes along with her witchy bad self. The Witch Council is sending her to Dallas in her capacity as Enforcer. And to make matters more interesting, they’re also sending Lucien and Rory.

Ellie’s mission is to find and destroy the source of the witch sickness. Along the way, she uncovers Rory’s reason for hesitating in accepting Lucien’s advances. Rory’s never been with a man before. As a result, Rory and his wolf are confused when Lucien comes on to him. But with Ellie’s help, Rory’s not confused anymore. Now, what happens in Dallas… Well, it’s not going to stay in Dallas.

As Lucien, Rory, and Ellie navigate the intricacies of a full triad, they also have to navigate the treacherous home of the Dallas Vampire Lord during the winter solstice. Because something is rotten. And Ellie’s pretty sure it’s the Dallas Vampire Lord.

 

Warning… maybe: One shifter new to manlove, one witch new to threesomes, and one vampire who’s been there and done that… a thousand times. At least. They’re all new to each other. Add in crazed bad guys unleashing diseases of mass destruction, and well… what happens in Dallas, it’s not gonna stay in Dallas. Light m/m action, some anal and LOTS of hot menage.

EXCERPT:

“Get the fuck out of my way,” she snarled at the bloodsucking asshole who had stepped in her path.

Christ, she hadn’t signed on for this. She needed to find who she was looking for then get the fuck out of this pit. Before she did something stupid. Like taking out a bitch not on her kill list.

Blood dens were a crap shoot at the best of times. Some were all about the sex. Drawing humans with the lure of the best sex they would ever have in exchange for a little blood during the act. In well-run dens, most of the humans were left alive, and mostly intact. This one was all about exploitation, however. So not a good time for her. She wouldn’t be surprised if some of the humans here, who had signed the liability waiver, didn’t end up dead in this joint.

What flowed through her veins called to vampires. Her blood was sweet and it smelled that way. Almost like catnip for bloodsuckers. But more than that, hers was strong. Given the choice, most of the vamps in the den would have opened her vein and drained her dry—with or without a liability waiver.

Initially, it was her sword holding them back. As well it should. She wasn’t carrying it for looks. It was for killing. And everyone who saw her and saw it, knew it. In a race of killers, her blade was well respected.

Most of the vamps, even in the throes of blood glut, got out of her way. Self-preservation was a miraculous thing. As high as they were, they still knew death’s scent. Permanent death, not the kind that made vampires. The kind that sent them over to the other side. For good.

She felt the power of an older undead before she saw him. Not too strong, but still old. There was enough power in the approaching blood drinker to be the one to run this place. The power signature pressed closer and closer.

“Morrie,” she greeted him, even though she couldn’t see him.

He was approaching her from behind. It was done on purpose. To check her blind spot. Now he knew. They all did.

“Lady,” he gave her the respect of her title. Smart man.

Even if his obeisance came after he had felt how much more powerful she was, she didn’t comment on the hesitation in his greeting. Mostly it was the magic in her sword. But she wasn’t without natural power. She was a witch, after all. Her goddess’s arm of justice. Maybe not as strong as Ellie. But Ellie’s talent lay in healing. Hers lay in enforcing the laws and hunting down those who broke them. Witch rogues, vampire rogues, shape-shifter rogues, elven rogues. All of them. If they broke the law and stepped beyond redemption, she hunted them down and killed them.

She was on the hunt tonight.

“There’s a diseased vamp in here, Morrie. Find him. Bring him to me and I’ll leave the place standing,” she ordered.

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, Enforcer,” Morrie shot back.

“Morrie, I’ve been chasing this bastard all over town. I followed him here. I can feel him in here. Find him, bring him to me before I tear this fucking place apart trying to find him myself.” She knew he was lying. He knew she knew he was lying.

Time to find out why he was lying later. Right now, she had other things to do.

Morrie looked set to argue with her again. She let some of her magic out. Electricity started sparking from her body. Morrie’s eyes got big. He took a step back, throwing up his hands in supplication.

“If you don’t bring him to me immediately, I will burn this den down,” she said. Her sight developed a slight film as her power filled her. “You make me burn this place down, I’ll do it with everyone inside. Then it’ll be known that you were harboring a rogue and refused to give him to me. You won’t be well liked, Morrie. I won’t even have to hunt you down myself. Your lord will do it for me.”

“Yes, Lady.” Morrie scurried off to do her bidding. “I shall endeavor to find the one you seek immediately.”

nightblind_banner

Smutty Sunday: Reviews Catch Up

Today’s reviews will have a mix of bought and NetGalley books. I will let you know which is which in the body of the review. I know I’ve got quite a few book reviews to get through. And I will. I’m not going to download anymore books until I get my backlog caught up completely. Hopefully, getting new books will be the carrot that makes me get these damn reviews out.

First up…

1. Beneath the Patchwork Moon by Alison Kent

This was a NetGalley read. Thank you for them, Ms. Kent,  and Montlake for the opportunity to read this work.

Now onto the review…

This book just confused me. I just didn’t understand the whole premise. Three friends are driving. There’s a wreck. One of dies. Ones in a permanent vegetative state. And one broke her hip, was hospitalized and got better eventually.

Everyone hates the one with the broken hip.

Even though she wasn’t driving. Even though the accident wasn’t her fault. Even though all this happened when they were stupid teenage kids. And to top all this off, no one will talk about anything. They just hate the broken hip girl, umm, just because she’s alive and can be hated. By her surrogate family, even. People who’ve known her since she was little. Did I say the accident isn’t her fault?

And then there’s the weird, bizarre love thing. With the dead kids brother. Who just kinda deserts her after his family turns their back on her. So she loses both her best friends, everyone hates her, dead girls family hates her the most and then to top it all off the boyfriend bails.

And the whole thing with the vegetative state kid’s family? More strangeness. I did not get this book at all. I kept waiting for it to make sense. I’m still waiting.

 

2. Dark Witch: Book One of the Cousins O’Dwyer Trilogy by Nora Roberts

I picked this book up on Amazon when it was on sale for like $3.99 or something. Figured I couldn’t go wrong at that price. Boy, was I mistaken.

Sadly, I neither liked the characters nor the story here. Roberts writes well. I just didn’t connect with the characters. I didn’t give a shit about the love story OR the paranormal one. It was all very blah. And I found myself skimming huge chunks of this book.

I will not get the rest in this series. That’s the way it is for me with this writer. I either love it–Witness–or I hate it–this.