Lifespans

Time is a cruel unforgiving bitch.

It seems not long ago I was chugging along like the little engine that could -- writing, reviewing, blogging, tweeting -- but I became distracted, and time knocked my ass to the ground. A recent search of the followers listed for my webpage and blog, and yes, even other pages I follow, have gone dormant or defunct. It would appear my own website and blog has suffered the same fate.

Well, I'm not quite ready to hold the flowers and have lime thrown on me just yet. I refuse to entertain the thought that my author name may have fallen into the abyss of irrelevance. I know what I must do. I must start again from the beginning while still holding to my accomplishments of the past.

Time has a way of slipping beyond our forbearance, but I want to believe that even though lost for the moment, my place in time is recoverable.

The lifespan of a gnat is a mere seven days. But within that seven days, the little fly must sense that it has lived a lifetime relative to its own kind. In one week the gnat is born, changes from pupil to insect form, seeks food and shelter, seeks mates for the purpose of reproduction, and with all this achieved, it is reclaimed by the universe.

Therefore, I will no longer be complacent and satisfied. I will struggle and achieve as if my days were numbered. I will bring my time to heel and make it follow my desires. Yes, it will be a struggle and time will eventually unshackle herself and knock me down again -- but not without an earnest fight from me.

Coming Soon

I am pleased to give just a little tease to a new series coming out soon. Here's the concept for the first story, A Feast of Fools.

Keisha Sims has been a very bad girl. So bad, in fact, that she's left a trail of bodies and broken hearts all the way from Montana to Atlanta, Georgia. Leonidas, the pack leader in Ellijay, Georgia, suspects she's on her way to to settle a score.

He calls on Lexi and Joe to track her down and apprehend, or kill the rogue werewolf if they must. They are not too happy about the task being given to them before they even have time to consummate their union, but it is the job they signed up for as part of the bargain to allow Joe, a feral, to join the pack.

Will Joe and Lexi be able to track her down before she makes it to Ellijay and exacts her revenge? Will they even bother when they find out why she seeks revenge--and that her anger is directed toward Leonidas?

Stay tuned for a sneak peek at the next book in the series, A feast of Passions.

Beginnings

I offer this for your perusal and opinion. I will be publishing another work of short erotic fiction soon. The story is a continuation of my Sex in Public series. This series has become quite popular for reasons unknown to me. Well, I guess one reason is that it explores the world of exhibitionism and voyeurism. I try to get into the mind of my main character, Wendy Parker, as she embarks on a new experience, and grows increasingly dependent upon the rush of adrenaline, the excitement of risk and exposure that comes with engaging in sex in clear view of others or in public places.

Presented here is the draft for the first scene in the story I've tentatively named Center Stage. In this story, Wendy will take her experiences to a new level. Sure, she's already enjoyed engaging in a kind of competitive sex dual with the couple across the street but now she will be presented the opportunity to actually participate in sex for the entertainment of others. I've done some research on this and found the activity does exist.

Anyway, please read if you would like and do not hesitate to give me your thoughts; good, bad, or other than beautiful. Also, for those interested, I will be giving those on my mailing list a free copy of this when it is published.

"All the world's indeed a stage, and we are merely players, performers and portrayers. Each another's audience outside the gilded cage."

~Rush, Moving Pictures

 

 

My body stiffened from the jarring noise of the door buzzer--something I was not used to hearing, especially now that Rick was living with me. Even more bothersome to me was that someone was actually standing outside our door at such a late hour. Rick was startled too, his hand coming to a sudden stop just over the inside curve of my lower back. I gave him a couple of knowing pats on his shoulder and he withdrew from me with a sigh. I looked to the lighted apartment window across the street and saw Trip Tanner and his wife, who's name I still did not know, had stopped their lovemaking, probably wondering why we had stopped our own exhibitionist show.

"Just a minute," I yelled toward the door, as I slid off the back of the couch, my core already feeling cold and wanting of Rick's marvelous lips and tongue.

I grabbed my robe off the floor, glancing at our wall clock as I threw the robe around me and cinched it closed. It was nearly midnight and again I wondered why the hell someone was buzzing my door at such a late hour.

"Who is it?" I reached for the locks but held back, waiting for a response.

"Courier service, ma'am," sounded from the other side of the door.

I opened the door to find a young dark-haired man holding a rectangular box in one hand and an electronic signature board in the other. He thrust the box and the signature board to me at the same time, while mumbling "sign for the package ma'am." and staring at my breasts so hard I had to check to make sure my robe was closed. Rick slid in beside me, squeezing through the door frame to take the box, then disappearing again as he brought it into the apartment. The young courier broke from his stare and looked up at me. His eyes flashed disappointment, probably because I wasn't alone, and then sank back down to my chest again. The courier pulled a little plastic stylus from the side of the board and I signed for the box in an area too small to make my signature look anything but childish. When I was finished, he took the board from me, haphazardly throwing it under his arm, while cranking his stare up my eyes again. This time his eyes reflected impatient waiting.

"I don't have any money on me for a tip," I patted my bathrobe as if checking for hidden pockets full of money, immediately embarrassed at my own gesture.

He said nothing, only returning his gaze at my chest and shifting on his feet.

"Maybe this will suffice for a tip," I said, as I pulled the collar of my robe apart, slowly revealing my breasts to the courier. I felt a smile spread across my face, and a devious thrill raised the hair on my arms and pinched my nipples tight. I caught a glimpse of the young man's mouth falling open as I turned, allowing my robe to fall as the door eased shut behind me. As soon as I heard the click of the door closing, I scooped up my robe, nearly running to the kitchen table where Rick waited to open the mysterious box.

The box was a standard cardboard affair, brown paper wet and stick tape holding it closed. Rick pulled the tape free and opened the box. inside was another box but not of cardboard. This box was made of dark wood with a solid clasp on the front and two brass hinges on the back. It was the size of a large shoebox. Together, we swatted the cardboard box away and gently placed the wooden box in its place on the table. I rubbed my hands together at the anticipation of what might be inside the box. I could tell Rick was excited too by the way his tongue slipped out the side of his mouth and he held it in place with his teeth. The wooden box was stained dark with ancient-looking carvings on every side. There was no note or return address from the cardboard box. I began to wonder who sent the box, and why. Was this some kind of cruel joke, or an anonymous gift from some unknown past acquaintance?

Rick placed the wooden box ceremoniously on the table and unfastened the clasp, while I squeezed in beside him and wrapped my arms around his waist. My body warmed to a tingle with the thought of what might be inside the box. I was strangely excited, my skin bristling with nervous anticipation. I certainly was not expecting such a delivery, and I could not help but wonder if Rick's reaction was just part of some devious plan he'd conjured up--some surprise he planned. He'd already proven his ability to plan surprises of epic proportion with his proposal in Seoul. Now, the suspense and wonder had me standing on my toes until they cramped, and squeezing my arms around Rick so tight it had to be hurting him. He gave not indication of pain, only smiling at me as he opened the clasp, deliberate and painfully slow, to reveal the contents inside.

Inside the box was a simple envelope seated inside an elaborate frame atop a false bottom. On the envelope in gold was the word "Invitation" handwritten in a fancy script style.

"Do you know anything about this?" I gave Rick a probing look, knowing that I would see through him if he was keeping something from me.

He looked directly at me and said, "I know nothing of this. I'm as surprise as you."

His look and demeanor did not falter. I knew he was telling the truth. One thing I'd learned about Rick through our relationship was that he was too proud to properly hide his sly smile when he was trying to surprise me. I took the envelop from the box and turned it over. It actually had a wax seal hold the flap closed. Till then, I'd only seen an envelope sealed with wax, like in the movies. I broke the seal, opened the flap, and pulled the folded weighty paper out. On the paper was written:

 

An invitation from a friend.

Accept, and intrigue will soon begin.

So, join us on the morrow's night,

and immerse yourself in voyeur's delight.

From this, you'll find your only sin

is wishing it would never end.

Under the poem was an address and instructions stating that the masks must be worn throughout the night's events. Masks? I ripped at the false bottom of the fancy wooden box, pulling it away to reveal two stunning masquerade masks. They were both simple but elegant. They did not have brash feathering or long beakish noses. Instead they were both tasteful, with golden piping around the edges and eloquent scrolling. I felt Rick's hand moving down my side, over the curve of my hips before circling my ass and squeezing.

"Should we go?" He asked, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Of course we'll go." I turned and brought my hands up to his broad shoulders. "Sounds exciting, doesn't it?"

"Yes, I'm excited." a smile worked its way across his face and his eyes flashed devious. "Can't you tell?"

I could tell. I felt his hardness pressing against my stomach through my robe as he pulled me into him. I had a devious thought of my own, and pulled away from him, searching his eyes for sign of agreement before continuing with my request.

"Let's put on the masks." I watched as his smile stretched further and he moved his head slowly in affirmation.

We grabbed the masks out of the box, nearly running as we headed to our bedroom.

So, please tell me what you think of this opening. Does it pique your interest? is it sexy enough? Can you understand the characters even if you had not read the first two stories? Again, I'll provide this story free to those on my mailing list for those interested. Thank you.

A Novel Adventure

Yesterday, I attended my first author event. I was pleasantly surprised of the outcome.

You see, this was not the standard event where the author goes to some book store loaded with books and giveaway items hoping to snare passersby, it was something altogether different. Yesterday I set up a table at a local flea market.

I know, it seems strange and counter intuitive to do such a thing but I was quite surprised at the results. I sold more books than expected and most of all, met many new friends-wonderful people, some aspiring authors.

I was offered this opportunity by a friend of mine who attends this event on the first weekend of each month with their father who sells tools. Yes, I had my little table set up next to some guy hawking tools at a flea market. But I didn't go for the hard sell, instead, I simply drew passersby to my table with the offer of free mints and a free bookmark. Once they approached my little table, I would start with "my latest story takes place right here in Montgomery, Alabama." We were set up in a nearby city so that piqued the interest of many. From there, I simply answered their questions and asked questions of my own. I was surprised with how many people actually decided to buy a book but even more surprised with the number of people changed their minds after I mentioned the last little fact that the main character just happens to be a shape shifting werewolf.

Surprisingly, that was the clincher that sealed the deal for many.

They would respond with something like, "Oh, that's what I like to read" before offering up the names of all the authors they read in the genre.

But the most surprising of all was that I sold nearly as many copies of my first novel, Lovestruck Succubus when I did not even have it displayed on the table. You see, since I live in the South, and many outwardly shun the possibility of what they consider "ungodly" books, I kept those books in a cardboard box and displayed an alternate cover on my poster.

When people asked, "is Lexi's Run part of a series?" I would say "why yes, and I have some with me, but I can't display them because this book is very adult in nature." I could see their eyes bloom with that statement and, more often than not, they immediately wanted a copy.

I must say though, that I learned much from this event. I discovered the importance of offering something, like free bookmarks, to get people to your table. I discovered that more books are sold by simply engaging those you meet in meaningful conversation rather than pushing your products on them. Most of all, I feel I met many new friends throughout the day and I'm thankful for each and every one of them.

I keep going back to the bookmarks and I must express that these were not professionally made. I simply created them on photoshop and took that graphic to my local store to have two bookmarks printed on a sheet of 4X6 photo paper. I cut them in half and, viola, I had over a hundred bookmarks. The back of the bookmarks were blank whit paper and I used that to practice signing my name while waiting for potential customers to stroll by. Not only were people impressed that I gave them a signed bookmark and signed copies of my books, it also helped me add flair to my author signature. Because, let's face it, if it weren't for mechanical or electronic writing machines, my handwriting would be virtually unreadable.

For those customers and new friends that approached my table, I thank you. For those other authors that either are considering something like this or simply shun the thought as beneath the dignity of an author to sell their books at a flea market, I say just give it a try. Besides, it's not just about selling stories, it's about meeting the people who read your work. I am proud to say that not one of the people buying books at my table yesterday knew who I was even though I am local-now they do.

Werewolf Love

I would never have thought when I began my first novel that I would be writing about werewolves. I was attempting to write a character study (more or less) dealing with the dichotomous problem faced by a woman wanting a normal relationship but unable to sustain one.

Of course, what I came up with was a demon succubus. Hey, why not? Using a character such as this allowed me to explore the problems many face of wanting a lasting relationship, but somehow sabotaging themselves.

But, given the nature I invented for my succubus, how would she ever find a lasting relationship if she kills all her lovers? Who could possibly survive her love? That's when werewolves made their entrance into the story. I would just have my main character fall in love with a werewolf. In my mind anyway, a werewolf can survive a succubus. Oddly enough, I later found the very concept I dreamed up, was used in a television show called Lost Girl.

Of course, my werewolves were different. In fact, my werewolves were created eons ago by demons such as Azra and Tarmin. More about that later. The werewolves in my world are just like other humans, living among the rest of the population. They do tend to keep to themselves, and they have a definite hierarchy within their group. My werewolves also (for the most part) mate for life. Now there may be a rogue out there having relationships with more than one partner, but that will be another story. Also, my werewolves communicate just like married humans, oftentimes arguing or engaging in banter. Here's an example of this using Alexis and Joseph from the novel Lovestruck Succubus.

Joe Johnson sat in a darkened car next to his wife and mate, Lexi. The car was a rental and they had been sitting inside of it for nearly four hours watching Raif Lungren's apartment building. The air outside had cooled some but there was no breeze and now the day's heat radiated off the buildings and the concrete. Hot moist air filled the car making their skin stick uncomfortably to the seats. The windows were cracked open but they could not run the air conditioner for fear of attracting attention, even on the deserted street in the dead of night. The inside of the car stank of coffee, french-fries, and body odor.

They had watched Raif walk home from work. They had watched a woman follow behind him. They had watched her hide beside a tree for more than two hours. Now, they watched as she moved to the apartment entrance door, and they would wait until morning if they had to, just to see if the woman stayed in his apartment for the night. They had been watching Raif for more than two weeks. All of his activities had been noted and relayed back to their pack leader and alpha in Northern Georgia. But the woman was new, and why she was hiding outside his apartment building they had no idea, although the arrival of this new woman did bring some excitement to their normally dull observations. Lexi wrote notes on a small notepad. She listed the general characteristics of the woman approaching the apartment building, approximate height, hair color and length, and clothing worn. She noted the time, 1:43 AM, and wrote it down.

"Did you see that?" Joe poked at Alexis, and then pointed at the apartment entrance.

"See what? She just went into the apartment building." Alexis gave him a stern look through the darkness, peeved about his habit of poking her when he wanted her attention.

"No, Lexi, I didn't see her open the door." Joe always called her Lexi, and she called him Joe, unless they were mad at each other, and then it was Alexis and Joseph.

"What do you mean? I'm sure she opened the door and then went inside, you just missed it."

"I don't know. It looked to me like she went through the door."

"Maybe you need more coffee." Lexi held the thermos up for him. "I think all this stakeout stuff just makes you loopy."

Joe resigned the argument, thinking she was right and he was probably just seeing things that were not there. He lifted his Styrofoam cup out to her and smiled in acceptance of her terms. Lexi filled his cup, smiled back at him and settled back in her seat. They fell into silence, Joe slowly slurping coffee, Lexi huffing and shifting abruptly in her seat in annoyance at his loud, sloppy drinking.

They had sat in the car another forty minutes when the apartment building door flew open and a kind of half-human half-wolf creature came through at a full run.

This scene from Lexi's Run served as part of the introduction of Joseph and Alexis (Joe and Lexi) in the first Novel. It is told from Joe's point of view. It may seem strange to some readers that the second novel went backwards, but I thought this was a great way to highlight the relationship of Joe and Lexi. I thought it would show how they became so familiar with each other. They weren't always so informal. In fact, this next scene shows how they almost never got together.

Joseph walked across the old crumbling asphalt parking lot, and over patches of loose gravel in front of the abandoned auto parts store toward the bar. As he crossed the alley, he heard a voice and, looking into the darkness, he saw a man and a woman in the shadows by a garbage dumpster. The man said something, and the woman jerked her hand away from him. Joseph's body reacted before his mind even realized the two were not standing in the dark for romance. The woman was backing up, and the man was advancing toward her.

"You alright Ma'am," he heard himself say as he closed the distance between him and the assailant grabbing at the woman.

He made it to the man in five easy steps. The man was preoccupied with the woman, allowing Joseph the opportunity to wrap his arm around the man's neck and drag him away from the woman, making sure to jerk his knee into the man's back at every step backwards. Joseph kept dragging the man backwards until he was brought off balance and went to the ground. He rolled the man over as forcefully as he could and then knelt down with his knee in the man's back, yanking the man’s arms around his back to meet his knee. Joe grabbed his zip straps out from the left side of his waistband, and tightened them around the man's wrists before bringing his attention back to the woman.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Joe looked up at the woman, standing among the dark shadows of the alley.

He could only make out her general shape in the dark, but he was certain he saw her eyes, just for a brief moment, nearly glowing, something primal reflecting in them through the darkness. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley, and the two standing in front of him came into better view. He recognized the man as Lefty, the local sleaze ball, and the very skip Jake contracted him to bring in. His luck was certainly changing from earlier in the day. The thug wannabee down and secure, Joe turned his attention back to the woman again.

"It's alright, I got him under control," He said to the woman, as he jerked Lefty up by his cuffed wrists.

Standing closer to the woman, he got a better look at her. She was looking not too pleased that he stopped Lefty from doing to her ... whatever it was he was thinking of doing. In fact, the smug look on her face made her seem completely ungrateful that he just saved her life, or, at the very least, her honor. Her pale skin reflected the dim light from the crescent moon overhead, and contrasted sharply with her dark hair. Joseph didn't usually think much of women one way or the other since his mother died, but even in the dark, he saw something special in her, a kind of confidence, a deep, animalistic skill for survival. He was beginning to wonder if he hadn't shown up, if she would've taken care of Lefty herself. Then she spoke, and removed any doubt about her confidence.

"I'm alright," the woman said. "I didn't need any help." She crossed her arms, and moved into a stance that, even in the darkness, came off as arrogant.

"Yeah, I could tell, you had everything under control," he said, with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

She glared at him; a cold hurt showing in her eyes, even through the dark, and he regretted the words as soon as he said them. Truth was, the woman looked like she could take care of herself. She was taller than most women, with a solid build. She was more voluptuous and toned than stick-thin, and her eyes showed strength. Even in the dark alley, her eyes conveyed volumes. Joseph liked beautiful eyes, and he liked a strong woman. He decided to take on a different approach in talking to her.

"I didn't get your name."

"I didn't give it." She turned, and began to walk away. "Like I told you already, I had everything under control until you showed up."

"Sorry if I interrupted your ass-kicking, but I've been looking for this guy." Joseph left out the fact that he had just started looking for him.

"Well, you got him," she said, not even looking back as she walked toward the street. "Can I get back to work, now?"

"You work here?"

"No, asshole, I don't work here.” She turned and looked back at him, planting her feet at shoulder-width. “Not on the street. I'm a waitress at the Pink Pony." She huffed and turned again, walking toward the alley entrance.

"Oh, I didn't mean ...” But it was too late. She'd already rounded the corner and disappeared.

"Wait," Joseph yelled after her as he moved as quickly as he could toward the street, pushing Lefty in front of him.

He reached the crumbling parking lot just as the woman stepped into the building, the door closing behind her.

"My name's Joseph," he yelled as the door closed.

"Damn you, Lefty," Joseph yelled in his ear as he jerked him toward his truck and pushed him along, making him stumble across loose gravel. "You just cost me a date."

"More like, I just put the two of you together," Lefty countered. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Nobody really, Lefty.” Joseph told him as he opened the passenger door of his truck and threw lefty inside. “I'm just the guy that gets paid for collecting trash like you and bringing them to jail."

It seems these were just two normal people meeting for the first time but soon, it is revealed that Lexi, and her relationship with Joseph is nothing close to normal. I write all this because I am attempting to warn my readers and possible future readers that the direction of this ongoing story is going to change even more with the third novel. What started as a story about a lonely demon succubus is becoming a story of the relationship between demons of old and the shape-shifting werewolves they created in an attempt to rid the Earth of humans.

My werewolves are not demons but they are definitely paranormal. They have special healing abilities, advanced hearing and smell but they are not completely immortal. They do grow old, and eventually die, as shown in Lexi's Run. Nonetheless, they do have the ability to shift to any form between human and wolf.

When it comes to love, there is only one kind for my werewolves—everlasting. With few exceptions, they stay with their mate (chosen or selected) for life. I hope this article provides some insight into my personal world of demons and werewolves. I hope that you would make it your world as well. And, I hope you stay with me because, in the next installment of this ongoing saga, things are going to get a little bumpy.

Some Fine Tuning

It appears Lexi's Run is on track for a September release. With edits underway, I thought it would be a great time to take another look at something that I feel can make or break a novel before it has a chance to be read - the cover.

Since the second novel marks my commitment to the Immortal Desires series, it stands to reason that I should create a brand or some item that remains constant and identifiable throughout the series.

Enter the series banner.

Take a look at the covers below and comment with your opinion on whether this works as something that ties the series together.

I've also remade the cover for the first novel as seen below:

What do you think? Does the branding work?

The cover you see for the first novel comes from the ebook version. The paperback version still shows Azra's face behind the night skyline of Atlanta, Georgia. This cover will soon replace both version currently on sale.

As some of you may know already, I take great pride in being a completely independent author, even creating my own cover artwork. In the updated cover for Lovestruck Succubus, I moved the photo of the man and woman down to minimize the, uh, exposure of the woman's nakedness. Although this image may seem to risque for some readers, I feel it best depicts the main character of the story, Azra. As most paranormal readers know, the Succubus like to be on top.

The new cover above will likely be the final for publication of Lexi's Run. The new cover for Lovestruck Succubus will appear after the book goes through a late rewrite and the second edition is ready for publication.



For those who might be wondering, writing is underway for the next novel in the series, Demon Among Wolves, and will likely be ready for release next September.





A Little Taste



Photo from rogerblazic.com

 Holly made the connection. Her mind was transported to the room next door. There was a body lying on a bed and she felt her soul, open and ready for communication. Her mind was let into the person easily but maintaining the connection would take all of her concentration. She opened her eyes and saw Katrina standing at the edge of the bed. She nearly lost her concentration at the sight of Katrina's beautifully luscious body, closing her eyes again to flush the sight from her mind. Katrina was a hard vision to push away. Her dark skin and curvy form was like a neon sign flashing take me, I'm yours. Nonetheless, Holly tried to imagine her as the subject while waving her hand at the camera for Doctor Mueller to kill the lights.

She leaned forward, her eyes still closed, until she sensed Katrina's abdomen, inches from her face. She was close enough to smell the essence of Katrina's perfume. She breathed in Katrina's aura, and it brought a fire to her senses. Reaching forward, she drew her arms around Katrina and ran her hands slowly up her back as she stood.

The room lights dimmed and the darkness brought a great sense of Katrina's body into her soul. Embracing Katrina, she focused on the subject in the next room, trying to deepen the connection with her and get a sense of her body. She needed to feel the subject's body in her mind. Finally, Katrina became the subject to her, and she knew, from this point forward, she would hold that connection using Katrina as the surrogate.

Holly allowed her hands to explore Katrina's back and neck until her fingers became entangled in her hair. She pulled the scrunchy from her head and Katrina's hair fell to her shoulders. Holly ran her hands over Katrina's shoulders and down her arms before bending to let her hands fall down her legs to her knees. As she bent down her cheek brushed across one of Katrina's extended and rigid nipples. It was warm across her cheek, seemingly producing a heat from some unknown source. She circled Katrina's knees twice before inching her fingers back up her legs along her inner thighs, barely skirting the outer edges of her pubic hair and upwards along her torso. Katrina sucked in her breath as Holly circled her breasts until her fingers skipped across her nipples.

Holly concentrated on maintaining her connection with the unknown subject in the next room. She projected the feel of Katrina's smooth skin through the air along a fragile, invisible string to her subject. She could not be sure the actual feeling was making it into the next room but was sure her connection remained intact. The thought of actually being able to influence this subject on such a personal level spurned her on. emboldened by her initial success, she leaned in and found Katrina's lips.

Just thought I would post a little taste of an upcoming story.

A Little Help

Above is a mockup for my upcoming novel. I'm considering giving the book the title: Lexi's Run and liked the concept of the woman getting on the bus alone.

I'm looking for opinions, advice, ideas, or just suggestions on this possible book cover. Let me know what you think about the fonts used. Or, the font size or color. What do you think about the map superimposed on the ground below the bus?

I have my thoughts and reservations but truly would value some outside opinions. Please give me you comments, good, bad, or ugly on this mockup.

Of course, the quality of the picture would be better if I was not using a comp but I'm not sold enough to purchase the stock photo yet.

Again, please help me out and comment or email me with your opinions on this possible cover and title.

14 May 2012 upate

I've worked on the cover a little more and posted another mockup below. The title: Lexi's Run is kind of growing on me now but I'm still not sure if it completely fits the story.

Funny thing about how my mind works. Once I find a title for a story, it usually greatly affects the direction of that story. For instance, until now, I was the only one that knew this but Lovestruck Succubus actually started out as an attempt at a mystery. I was really going to showcase a police detective. As the story progress though, I thought of the title and that changed everything. The story became more about Azra, and her plight. At the Time, Raif could not possibly survive her charms so I made him into something that I believed could. And it just kept changing from there.

Anyway, please give this a look and post your thoughts in the comments section or simply drop me an email at: author.ellison.james@gmail.com

Thanks.

Dabbling in the Dark Side

Many of you have done it, if only in your fantasies. I'm talking about all things encompassing the BDSM lifestyle.

I use the term 'lifestyle' because I've found through my research that those practicing this with the highest level of commitment, are into the entire lifestyle. For most of us though, this phrase is often thrown around with the act of tying your partner up, or spanking them to spice things up.

I've been researching this for quite some time now because I've wanted to learn about this lifestyle in order to write a story about someone involved in BDSM or getting involved in it at some level, from simple spanking all the way up to becoming a live-in Dom or Sub.

For those of you like me-on the fringes, looking at this lifestyle-peering in for just a sample of what it's all about, let me explain some things.

The term 'BDSM' really encompasses six things, not just four, as the acronym would imply. First there's bondage and discipline. Of course, bondage is the tying up part but the lifestyle goes beyond that. For the true BDSM aficionado, bondage is about control-ownership. Discipline goes along with bondage as a means of supporting that control and ownership.

The 'D' and 'S' in the acronym also mean 'Dominance' and 'Submission.' This means that, in this relationship, one partner plays the dominant role, while the other plays the submissive role. Some people are good at (or enjoy) one role or the other. A person that can play both roles is called a switch.

The 'S' also stands for 'Sadism' along with the last letter 'M' for 'Masochism.' This deals with the blurry borders between pleasure and pain. Specifically sadists gain pleasure (most often, sexual pleasure) from inflicting pain upon others, while masochists gain that pleasure from receiving pain.

Keep in mind here that the key to this lifestyle is consensual participation.

There is so much more to BDSM than I can possibly discuss here but know that it is mostly about power play, ownership, and control by all parties involved. The entire lifestyle is very psychological in its very nature, and explores what some might consider, some very Freudian issues.

It is important to understand though, that when you read, or write in my case, about tying up a partner, or spanking, or even some taboo issues such as daddy/teacher play, you are dabbling in the realm of BDSM.

Is that necessarily a bad thing? No, I don't think so. I just find it interesting how all these practices are considered so taboo by many, yet so worth exploring if for no other reason than self awareness.

What are your thoughts?

Note: Thank you to anonymous for pointing out that I had originally written the definition of sadist and masochist backwards.

Amazon KDP Select - My Thoughts

For the last ninety days I've had two books listed in Amazon's KDP Select program. This post serves as a short analysis of my experience with the program.

My analysis will, of course, be short and without a bunch of graphical data. I choose to just post my own personal experience.

The two books I selected for the program were: Window Treatment and All the Right Places.

The number one advantage to enrolling in the program was it allowed me to list my books free for a total of five days out of the ninety day enrollment period. While I saw a marked increase in purchases while the books were listed as free, they also fell under the free ebooks category for sales standings. When they reverted back to their ninety-nine cent price, they saw only a temporary rise in position.

As most of you know, position is everything in marketing ebooks on Amazon, or any other online sales channel. Once a book climbs to the lofty top one hundred position, it tends to stay there awhile. I've yet to see any of my books (except The Fifth Beauty, offered free) make it into this top one hundred position. My sales tend to be slow and steady.

The major downside to enrollment in the KDP Select program is the exclusivity clause. Books enrolled in the program cannot be marketed through any other sales channel. For me, this one disadvantage far outweighed any positive the program may have provided.

I believe the potential sales I lost at Barnes and Noble, ARe, Apple iBooks, Kobo, Diesel, Smashwords, and other markets were more than any possible gains through Amazon, Although their literature made it seem as though my sales would skyrocket because of the the ability for their Prime members to "borrow" books in the program.

I think it was a sham. I had less than ten books borrowed throughout the ninety days of program enrollment.

For this reason, I will not continue with this program, and republish my two test books into their previous channels.

Now, I must ask the readers out there, How does Amazon's Prime program affect you? Is it worth the money to enroll? If you have enrolled, do you borrow many books?

I believe it was worth it to try this program with a sample of my work, but was not overall impressed with the results. Although, I certainly liked the ability to offer my work free for a limited time, the results did not justify the effort.

Next, I may try offering my books (and maybe a select few others) for sale from my website.

Oh, and by the way. Here's a sneak peak at my next project, available soon

Back From The Nether

I Bet you thought I was gone to never return. It is somewhat true. I've been 'out of sorts' in more ways than one these last few weeks. I only hope my small following hasn't given up on my, and left me for dead because I'm still very much alive and kicking.

I took some time for a short vacation, driving nearly thirteen-hundred miles to see my son in the West Texas town of El Paso. We stayed there for a week, visiting Carlsbad Caverns and a small Winery in New Mexico. We toured El Paso pretty extensively, and even ventured to San Antonio to see the Alamo while visiting. We made a couple stops in Louisiana on the way back home. We visited the Tabasco headquarters on Avery island and ate a feast of a lunch at a great Cajun restaurant in the city of Lafayette. We also hiked up a very steep mountains to visit some old Navajo caves that turned out to be little more than depressions in the side of a cliff, but the walk was nice. We went to a Brazilian steak house where we were fed so much meat, we were all sick to our stomachs. It was a fun time had by all!

It was a great little vacation - and much needed - but it ended too soon. Also, we kept so busy, and the hotel was so nice that I barely got any writing done. I know, it's strange for me not to write on the road as I usually do my best writing while tucked away in some raggy little hotel somewhere.

But not this time.

Although my laptop remained plugged in, turned on, and perched on the granite table top in the lavish hotel room, I only managed to pound out about thirty words the entire week. THIRTY WORDS! What's wrong with me?  Well, nothing, really. I just stayed too busy and was so exhausted each night upon returning, I would simply fall to the bed.

I decided to suspend my weekly work in progress post. I realized that by posting work in a draft form, I was doing myself, and my readers, a disservice. Plus, I've struggled with the current major work in progress, and I'm beginning to wonder why, from a psychological standpoint, why I am still unable to come up with a title for the story. Those who know me will understand that psychology goes into much of what I do ... or do not do. I think that's true of most writers.

Anyway, to rest my mind and unfurrow my brow, I'm working on some shorter stories while I gather my thoughts. Expect to see some short, more-or-less plotless, fun, sexy stories out soon. The first, I've tentatively titled, Surrogate for now. Another, which is still stewing around in my head, I will title, Threshold.

Surrogate concerns a woman agreeing to take part in a scientific study revolving around the theory and/or practice of remote viewing/remote influence. She is given instructions to simply go into a dimly lit room, undress, and get comfortable. In another room, a woman, advanced in the art of remote influence will attempt to physically manipulate the unknown subject in the room next door. She will attempt to influence the subject sexually. In order to do this, she needs a surrogate - a real physical person with whom she can physically touch and pleasure in order to project her tactile feelings onto the unknown subject. The story will be told through the point of view of all three participants individually.

Threshold will involve a woman into the BDSM lifestyle. she will come to the same clinic as the previous story to take part in a study on determining the threshold between pleasure and pain. She intends to prove the threshold lies far beyond conventional wisdom. But, the clinic has found just the man willing and able to take her to that threshold, and beyond.

I haven't worked out all the details of the second story yet, but I've had other ideas that dabbled in this realm and have done much research on the subject.

Hope you all haven't forgotten me in my absence. Thank you for your patience. I'm now back in the game again.

WIP Wednesday

In this scene, Joseph decides to go to the Pink Pony and see Paulina (Alexis). He's still confused about her pushing him away the night before when he thought they were making progress and getting ready to become intimate.

Now, he walks right into another situation because Norman "Knuckles" Taylor is at the bar, and he wants desperately to take the man in. I'll explain here in case I did not post the prior scene. Previously, Joseph went back to the bond office and was given a skip ticket for none other than Norman "Knuckles" Taylor. Only thing is, Knuckles is a big time player in the local crime underworld, and noboby really thinks he can be brought in. Joe takes the skip because Knuckles' bail is set at a cool million dollars. This means that Joseph's cut would be one hundred thousand dollars.

By sundown the next day, Joe couldn't stand it any more. He had to see Paulina. He had to know why she suddenly pushed him away the night before. Was it something he did? He wasn't ready to confront her at the Pink Pony, but figured she'd be working, and besides, he may just find Knuckles there. He needed to make some progress on cornering the thug, and he wasn't going to do it chasing some woman around.

He saw Knuckles as soon as he walked into the Pink Pony. The man sat at a large round table in front of the stage, surrounded by his bodyguards. Paulina stood in front of him with her order form in her hand. He said something to her, and she held her hand up, shaking it as a gesture of saying no. He said something else to her, Joe couldn't quite make out through the noise in the bar, and she put a hand on her hip while pointing a finger at him. She looked upset, but she wasn't yelling loud enough for him to make out her words. Knuckles said something else to her and she flipped him off.

"Fuck you," Joe heard her say this time, over the din in the bar.

She turned to walk away, but she must not have seen Knuckles' cronies get up from the table and walk around behind her when she flipped him off. Sam stood behind the bar, watching everything but not doing a damn thing. Knuckles reached forward and grabbed Paulina's arm, yanking her violently into his lap. That's when instinct took over, and Joe sprung to action.

He ran directly to the table using his momentum to smash his arm into the head of one of the thugs moving in on Paulina. The thug flew into the man beside him, their heads clunking like empty coconuts before they both fell to the floor with a thud, like a fifty-pound sack of flour. The third man was pulling his arm back, getting ready to pop Joe in the head, but it was too late, Joe swept his leg around and caught the man at the knee. He went down like the other two, falling into a table and breaking it, sending glasses and customers flying. He turned and prepared to face down Knuckles. He was already moving when he heard the faint but distinct sound of a hammer being drawn back and clicking into place. He stopped, dead in his tracks. Knuckles had one hand around Paulina's neck, and the other around a handgun. Oddly enough, Paulina didn't look scared in the least little bit. She looked angry, something animal in her eyes. She had the same look he thought he'd seen from her in the alley the night he brought Lefty into the station. Only this time, fighting back could get her a bullet in her chest, and Knuckles' file suggested he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. On top of all that, he was smart enough to lawyer up and claim self defense. If he hadn't already jumped bail, he'd probably walk, but Paulina wouldn't.

Joe backed away, bringing his hands up over his head. The other three thugs were getting up, and he knew they were going to get some retaliatory punches in on him since Knuckles had a gun aimed at him. He could take the three of them out. Knuckles held the gun in his right hand, to the side of Paulina, exposed, and vulnerable to attack. He could reach his left hand forward with his finger extended, catching the hammer in the webbing between his finger and thumb. He could follow it with his right palm into Knuckles' nose, rendering him useless, or possibly, dead. He couldn't do dead; he needed the money for bringing him. He knew he couldn't stop Knuckles and his three goons at one time. No, he was going to have to take a few punches, and try to snatch Paulina away somewhere in the confusion, shoving her safely away from the gun poking into her side.

He looked at Paulina, trying to send her some kind of mental message, hoping she could see his plan in his eyes. She didn't look scared in the least little bit. In fact, she had a look in her eyes that was predatory. Her eyes even seemed to glow, as if they picked up some unseen light source and reflected it back. He wondered if she had a plan, although, if she did, he feared for her even more. Especially, if her plan was anything like the one she had with Lefty.

The first blow came to his midsection. They were going right for the kidneys, but he reflexively bent over to absorb as much of the punch as he could. The second punch landed squarely on his jaw, just as he anticipated. With that, he stood back up, straight into the arms of the two thugs standing on either side of him. As they grabbed onto his shoulders, he used them as leverage to kick his left foot up, knocking the gun out of Knuckles' hand. The gun flew off somewhere behind him. Another punch came to his kidneys, and he wasn't quite ready for it, a deep grunt escaping him.

Knuckles suddenly released Paulina, pushing her off to the side as he moved forward to get his licks in. Joe took the two punches to his ribs, but he was more concerned with Paulina. The punches made him bend forward, more grunts surely giving his opponents a thrill, but he straightened after each punch and looked for Paulina. She had moved out of sight, probably standing beside the bartender behind the bar. Knuckles squeezed his hand around Joe's neck, and moved close to him, talking in a whisper.

"If I ever see you again, I'll fuck you up." His breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes. "You understand me, boy?"

Joe said nothing, and it took all of his restraint not to head butt Knuckles, and lay out his thug buddies. No one called him 'boy' if they wanted to live. Besides, there were only four of them, all bunched up against him. Hell, he could take them out two at a time, but for now anyway, he needed to just stand there and take an ass whooping. He couldn't take a chance on this thing turning into a gunfight, and there was no doubt, they'd all go to guns if he started kicking their asses.

Knuckles stepped back, looking at him, sizing him up. Joe gave him nothing except some feigned struggling against the two losers holding him by the arms. Knuckles slapped him hard across his face, another thing that would get him killed if the situation were different. The sucker punch landed next, right to his midsection. Joe absorbed the punch but exaggerated the pain, allowing his knees to buckle. Knuckles turned to retrieve his gun, and his two goons dropped Joe to the floor, stepping over him as they followed. The third goon got one last kick into his gut as he stepped over him. His posse reassembled, Knuckles left the bar.

Joe waited until the door shut behind Knuckles and his gang to stand up. Paulina ran out from behind the bar and toward him. He was happy, thinking his act of heroism would convince her to finally explain herself to him, lower her guard and admit her feelings for him. He was certainly ready to admit his feelings for her. He opened his arms as she approached, waiting for to jump into him with a big thankful hug. Instead, she stopped short and slapped him over the same cheek Knuckles slapped earlier. Her slapped stunned him. He stood motionless and confused as she pointed a finger at him, and started a rant he would probably never figure out.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Paulina seemed genuinely pissed, not at all thankful. "They were giving me great tips."

Joe could do nothing. There simply was no way to respond.

"I'm so sick of you showing up and trying to play hero. I'm sick of you walking around thinking everyone needs to be saved."

Something gave Joe the sinking feeling she was just getting started.

"I can take care of myself, you know. I had the situation under control."

"Yeah," he said. "I like the way you controlled that gun pointed at you, and some thug practically having his way with you right in the middle of the bar." He realized it was wrong to say it, but it just slipped out.

Paulina fell silent. The whole bar became silent, even the music had stopped, as if they were in some surreal spaghetti western, and the gunfighter just challenged someone in the saloon. Paulina opened her mouth to speak, her finger still pointing at him, and he prepared himself for the onslaught.

"You know, Joe, you’re an asshole." Paulina didn't look mad anymore, she looked like she was about to cry. "Just get out," she said. "Get out the bar, and get out of my life." She turned, and ran behind the bar and through the doors to the kitchen.

There was nothing left for him to do, but leave. The entire bar was silent, every eye upon him. Without another word, he left the bar, half-expecting Knuckles and his thugs to be waiting for him outside. May have been waiting for him but luck was on his side. They were too busy discussing something in the parking lot. Joe found, in his experience, every failure presented in itself, opportunities for future success. Joe stepped into the shadows and quietly waited. With luck, Knuckles would give him the opportunity he was looking for.

Hope you enjoyed this week's work in progress post. I may skip ahead in the coming weeks as I complete the draft and begin the initial edit. After finishing the first edit, I'll send the entire manuscript out to anyone willing to read and comment on the project. I'm willing to take whatever feedback I can get, from grammar comments to story concept, character development or overall feeling of the story. Thanks for joining this week.

Until next week, then...

WIP Wednesday

This week's work in progress post is a short scened building suspense before Joseph and Alexis officially meet for the first time. I would guess, you'll realize this is not love at first sight, which will become even more evident by next week's scene.

One thing I want to express in this scene is Lexi's vulnerability. I know she's all tough on the outside, and she can take care of herself but, whether she likes it or not, sometimes she needs to be rescued, not necessarily from others, but from herself.

This scene is, by far, the one most likely to be rewritten. I'm not sure I like it yet, and feel there is much to be removed, and maybe even some things added for clarity.

Enjoy.

Business at the bar was relatively slow most of the night, although the pace was steady. Customers came and went, creating a rise and fall in activity, rather than a steady flow. One lonely dancer graced the stage, moving suggestively to old worn out rock and roll songs. Lexi wanted to talk to the woman, but stayed just busy enough to be serving drinks each time the dancer took a break. Besides, during every break, the dancer went into the small crowd sitting with a customer.

She finally caught the dancer leaving the stage after a short set. Business in the bar was in a slow lull, so Lexi decided she would take a short break, and get to know only other female employee in the bar. She gave the woman a smile as she left the stage, and followed her to a table along the outside wall of the bar.

"Mind if I sit with you," Lexi said as she pulled out a chair. "By the way, my name's Paulina." Lexi gave her the name she gave everyone else since arriving in Montgomery.

"Sure. Be my guest," the woman said, not mentioning her name, instead taking a tube of cherry chap-ice chap stick off the table, and running it in a circle across her lips.

The woman lifted a container of bottled water up, snapping the cap open, and bringing it to her lips. Lexi watched, as she tipped the bottle up, drinking about half of it in one long pull. Lexi wondered why a dancer in a shady strip club would choose water over any of the harder drinks probably provided free to her while she worked. The woman suddenly stopped, looking at Lexi through her uplifted water bottle.

"What, you never saw a dancer drinking water on her break?" The woman sat the bottle back down on the table, screwing the cap on, a wry smile forming as she stared at Lexi. After what seemed a lifetime of staring, the woman finally broke her gaze, picking up the tube of chap stick again for another two laps around her lips.

"Becky," she said, as she pushed the cap onto the chap stick tube. "My name's Becky."

"Nice to meet you, Becky." Lexi watched her stand the chap stick tube upright on the table, and slide her water bottle toward her. Becky moved with a grace and fluidity that Lexi thought was beyond that of a dancer in a club. She wondered if Becky had some other professional dancing experience. Lexi asked. "How long have you worked here?"

"About a year or so." Becky stared at her again, as if trying to see beyond her eyes, and into her soul. "I started out in the New York ballet. After an injury, I moved to Vegas. I did the circuit there for awhile, and then ended up here."

"That's a big jump, Vegas to Montgomery, Alabama. How did that happen?"

Becky grabbed at her chap stick again. "Let's just say, a relationship brought me here, and when it ended, I was stuck." She uncapped the chap stick tube with a pop, and ran it around her lips again, like a car racing around a track.

Lexi decided not to press the issue any further, afraid of what might have happened to Becky that she couldn't leave. She looked away, not wanting to go any deeper into conversation. Across the dark room, she saw Lefty raising his glass and shaking it until ice cubes spilled out the sides onto the carpet.

"Looks like you've met our resident sleaze ball," Becky said as she pushed her chair back, and got up from the small round table.

"Yeah, he's been making me nervous all night." Lexi got up, and extended her hand. "It was nice meeting you, Becky."

Yeah, same to you. Take care of yourself ... Paulina. Don't let guys like Lefty get to you. If you do, you won't last a week here."

"Thanks," Lexi said. "I'll keep that in mind." She glance over to him and saw he was still holding his glass up, an expectant look on his face. "I guess I better go fill his drink before he has a fit."

Becky strolled seductively back to the stage, grabbing the pole, and beginning a slow dance in the middle of a song. Lexi waited for another minute before making her way over to Lefty's table, just to make him sweat a little.

It didn't take long for the bar's crowd to dwindle down to nearly nothing. By nine o'clock, the bar was empty except for the creepy, greasy-haired man, Sam called Lefty. Lexi wanted to show Sam that she was a valuable employee, willing to take initiative and get things done. She found some plastic trash bags behind the bar, and walked through the bar, emptying ashtrays and garbage cans. She filled both bags by the time she worked her way to the side door, leading out to alleyway, and the dumpsters.

She hoisted the heavy plastic bags up, and backed into the door, moving into the alley backward. once outside, she dropped the bags and jumped for the door, but it closed before she reached it, leaving her stranded and alone in the dark alley. After throwing the bags into the dumpster, she turned to walk out of the alley to the front of the building, and he was there. Lefty's dark shadow filled the small alley space as he double-stepped, closing the distant between him and Lexi.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here alone," Lefty said as he reached over and grabbed Lexi's arm at the elbow.

Lexi said nothing, giving him a nasty look as she yanked her arm away. Undaunted, Lefty moved in closer, gripping her elbow again. She felt the hairs on her arms tickling her skin, and a primal urge to attack flash through her mind, as he pushed her against the side of the dumpster.

"Leave me alone," she said, as she did her best to will the shift away. This was the last thing she needed on her first night of work. She couldn't afford to bring attention to herself, but she couldn't just let this creep take advantage of her either. Lefty moved in to her so close, she could smell the bourbon on his breath. His lips were parted, not in a smile, but in that way a child or an unintelligent adult might let their mouth fall open when the attention is required for some mundane task overruns their brain's ability to manage other bodily functions. Lexy clinched her jaw and balled her hand into a fist as she slid across the cold metal of the dumpster, choking back her rage against a flood of memories. It didn't help that Lefty kept moving against her, his open mouth venting a putrid cloud of alcohol and stomach bile.

"Come on, Baby, I saw you looking at me in the club." Lefty leaned into her, pushing his nasty body against her, running the stub of his half-finger across her cheek. "I know you want it."

That was it. Lexi felt the hair on her arms thickening, her canines growing painfully in her mouth. She yanked her arm out of his grip again, and let a low growl build within the depth of her throat.

"You alright ma'am?" A voice came from the alley entrance.

As always, your comments and critiques are welcome. I will add that I may skip ahead a few scenes at a time in the near future. It seems my draft will be complete soon, and after the first edit, ready to go out to beta readers. Once changes are made suggested by betas, I'll send it off to the editor for another few rounds with the machete.