Isolation

Wow, has it really been a year since my last post? I suppose I've been in some kind of self-imposed isolation.

Well, not really self-imposed. I must admit to the shallowness and self-doubt of authors, myself included. At the height of production for me, I was part of a small group of other authors gathered together in mutual support. That group has since dissipated and I, as with the other I'm sure, moved on to other more pressing matters in life.

One should know that I have not stopped writing. I'm still working on several projects. "Feast of Fools" is still in development and will introduce a new character into the Immortal Desires series. Her name is Kaliska, and even though she is rather small in stature, she may be the baddest, most deranged character yet. Of course, Azra is still growing within her story as she lives among a demon werewolf pack in northern Georgia and prepares for the coming war. I'm still kicking around a story that keeps calling to me and then running away about a woman that finds she is an integral part of greek myth after being swept through a portal to the land of Atlantis.

So, I'm still working but relying solely on my own will and motivation to move forward. Of course, it must be said that writers in general are not the greatest at providing their own motivation.

Anyone care to join me to provide mutual motivation and kick ideas around? Just find me on twitter or facebook, or leave a message here.

Free Book Offer

It's Here!

The New updated and expanded 2016 version of Lexi's Run has arrived and is available for purchase at Amazon. Click here to get Lexi's Run for Kindle.

But, wait. Didn't I promise a FREE book on the post title?

Why yes, I did. So, mark your calendar because This book will be available FREE on Valentine's Day! So, please, feel free to download your copy for a good romantic and suspenseful read with your significant other or all by yourself on this holiday.

I do ask that, if you enjoy the story, you might consider leaving a review.

P.S. Although many of my stories carry an erotic theme, this book is pure paranormal romantic suspense so it is safe, fun, and romantic for the entire family!

Be a Beta Get Free Stuff

It's True!

My Paranormal Romance Suspense Novel Lexi's Run is back from editing and nearly complete. I'm now in the process of rewriting the ending.

If you are interested in being a beta reader for this work, your efforts will be rewarded.

Here's what I'm offering:

• A chance to read this completely new, expanded, and revitalized novel before anyone else
• A signed copy of the novel when/if goes to print edition
• The opportunity to take part in making final tweaks to a story and satisfaction of knowing your opinion is valued
• My sincere thanks, gratitude and admiration for your help

Here's what I'm asking :

• Read the advanced copy of the novel and provide feedback to me on everything from missed grammatical errors to characters you love or hate
• Willingness to provide a review for the novel on Amazon when it is published
• Consider the opportunity of helping me spread the word of the novel to others that might enjoy this story

Although much of my work is erotic or may have erotic elements, this novel does not. The story does involve a blossoming relationship between the main characters hampered only by occasional threats to their lives. This story covers the development of a loving, emotional relationship while the development of their physical, sexual relationship will be discovered in other stories.

So, please, might you consider helping me make this the best story possible? If you are interested, please say so in the comment section below or contact me on my personal or author facebook page.

Back From the Nether

"Hello, It's me. I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet."

 

Lyrics from a popular song seem the best way to begin. I cannot believe how much time has passed since I last posted to this blog. Upon this realization I feared I'd been absent too long. And, in my absence, my readers and fans went elsewhere.

So, now I begin the journey anew. I will start from the great hole I've put myself into and claw my way upwards. Upwards towards the starry night. Upwards into the cool light of the moon.

Yes, I have been wandering but not without reason. Along with the writing I like in other genres, I've decided to make my way back to open-door fantasy. So, for those of you who've stayed with me, I thank you and will have more for you to read soon. For those new to my works, hold on--it's getting better and more fantastic, more romantic, more dark, more fueled by sensuous encounters, and even raw, unbridled lust.

There will be some changes and additions to this web page as well as my presence on other social media. So relax, pour yourself a cup of the blackest tea, and enjoy the ride.

Have You Seen My Book Trailer Video

Well, Have you? Just wondering. If not, here's a link. Yes, I know the video is rather old, and it was my first attempt ever at making a book trailer but I still like it. I hope you do too.

Phooey on Revision

To offer a revised addition or not, that is the question.

For the last few months I've been working on revising some of my older stories. Oddly though, the work I was revising (or, attempting to revise) was a work I offer free titled "The Fifth Beauty." Problem is this story has suffered an average three-star rating, and some of the comments for this story are just downright disrespectful.

Yes, I understand that, especially when a work is offered free, many people will download the story and read it without realizing just what kind of story they are reading.  It kind of puts me into a fix because I take these reviews seriously. I want everything I offer, whether it is for sale or free, to be the best I can create.

Well, after struggling with the thought of changing the aforementioned story, I finally gave up and said, poo on revising this, or any story.

I believe my efforts could be better directed working on new material  and making this the best I can. I believe all writers grow and change, and it shows in the stories they write. My writing style has changed but I'm afraid of putting out something new and having it seen as too different or not as good and other material.

This fear causes a kind of paralysis or stagnation in my writing. Of course, I do not want that to happen so this is my mantra from now on. When in doubt, I will just begin writing something new and exciting. I will hope that others will find my stories new and exciting but will write what I want to write without allowing myself to become mired in the sticky goo of trying to achieve mass acceptance.

What do think, readers? If an author you read offers a revised addition to a story, do you give it a read or pass because you've already read the original story? 

Genre Dilemma

Dear Reader

I need your help. You see, I've written something that I unable to classify into a specific genre. Is it Romance? Erotica? Maybe you can help me by read this short excerpt and posting your opinion. This is a story I've had on the back burner for quite some time. It is a kind of historical fantasy of sorts. The main character (Lucia) is swept into an underwater cave and knocked unconscious while diving off the coast of Crete. When she awakens, she discovers that she is 'somewhere else.' She is in a land filled with strange characters. One of these characters in particular (Evenor) helps her recover from her injuries (with a troop of servants) and insists she is a future queen preordained by some vision he's had.

Anyway, read the excerpt and tell me your thoughts. Should this be Young Adult? Or, could some of these words be changed to a more "purple" hue and still get the point across?

Smells of warm aromatic oils filled my senses. Jasmine, lilac, even menthol tickled my brain as I lay in a dark semi-conscious world. Soft hands gently caressed my body, gliding smoothly along all contours on a thin liquid ribbon of warmth. Not just a single pair of hands but several, all in different places and ever so gentle on my bruised and sensitive skin. One pair of hands glided over my face and rubbed little circles around my temples. Other sets of hands caressed and kneaded each arm and leg moving upwards and meeting along my torso. My body lay flat on a soft surface and the hands continued moving, caressing, and circling around my breasts in decreasing concentric circles until reaching the outer regions of my areoles and finally converging on my stiffening nipples.

I jerked into complete consciousness at the sensation and looked wildly up at the blurry figures surrounding me. There were five women standing topless around me, all dark-skinned and dark-haired. Ornate jewelry around their necks and in their hair flashed and twinkled as it reflective the light of endless candles within the tented room. They were rubbing my body with some kind of oils and taking liberties I wasn’t sure I welcomed. I tried to rise but found my pain forbid it and I fell flat again. I was on some kind of bed about waist high to the women and it was covered with a thick blanket of leather or animal skins. I squirmed about in a pool of the warm oil trying to bring myself to an upright position again but the women gently guided me back down. Two of the women parted and a man appeared between them. I recognized the man. He had been the one on the horse last thing I remembered seeing. He looked down at me with jet black eyes and matching shoulder-length hair that formed a curtain around the outline of his thin chiseled face. He said something to me but I could not understand the language. He spoke with a dialect I had never heard before. He frowned and looked around at the women surrounding me, saying something quietly to them. They backed away and he looked back down and stared directly into my eyes.

“I am Evenor. You were injured but are now safe. Trust my servants. Rest and they will heal you.”

I was so fixed on his dark piercing eyes that I did not even see his lips move when he spoke. In fact, I wasn’t sure that his lips did move. He quickly disappeared and was replaced by the five women who continued their massaging. The woman standing over my head presented a large gold goblet and raised it to her mouth making drinking gestures. Without waiting for a reply, she gently lifted my head and tipped the metal cup to my mouth. I drank the liquid. It had the sweet tang of red wine and it was cold as it glided smooth across my lips and down my throat. I emptied the goblet and relaxed into the slick warm surface. The women surrounding me moved in and continued massaging my body as the wine warmed in my stomach. I could feel my body relaxing as I responded to the drink. It seemed to relax my body more than normal and I felt like I was falling slowly. I was barely able to move my arms and legs but still felt every hand gliding along my skin.

Warm soft hands again glided over my oiled body with slick precision. Caring hands caressed the curve of my neck up to the lobes of my ears. Sensuous hands traced the curve of my breasts and gently pinched at my nipples making them rise and harden in response and sending small pulses of pleasure through me. Wonderful brave hands glided up my legs and ever-so-gently along my inner thighs. Gentle waves of pleasure accompanied every touch, and my mind drifted in warmth. I no longer concerned myself with the proprieties of catholic hetero-sexuality and gave in to the pleasure, trying to hold onto lucid thought as warmth and pleasant delirium invaded my soul. I thought about what had happened in the water and where I might be now. I wondered about the bronze-skinned man who rescued me. I opened my eyes only briefly as the women wrapped my body in some large leaves that had a slightly pungent smell and placed small white and blue crystals on my body over the leaves. I felt tingling energy and warmth in my chest from the crystals through the leaves. Through the veil of my closed eyelids I painted a palette of soft pinks and purples as sleep overtook me.

What are your thoughts?

Many Loves

Source: Wikipedia

 

Many cannot imagine being so lucky as to have a secure relationship with a thoughtful, caring, significant other. I, for one, know that this kind of relationship is not a given, and when found, must be nurtured and held on to through individual growth and disagreement.

Now imagine, if you can, having this kind of relationship with two or more thoughtful, caring, significant others. I've thought about this kind of relationship and pondered the possibilities and pitfalls of such an endeavor. Although my personal nature and personality would not bode well in this type of relationship, I know many who feel they would be right at home, and completely satisfied loving more than one and being loved by more than one, in a committed relationship.

What I'm talking about here is a lifestyle prescribed to by about five percent of our American population -- I'm talking about Polyamory.

Polyamory is a lifestyle choice involving numerous (or endless) loving relationships intertwined within a closed group. This could be just three individuals or more. It can involve any combination of lifestyles including: gay, straight, bi, or even BDSM.

I know what you're thinking. "But, what does this have to do with erotica?"

Well, it is something that intrigues me as a writer of erotica because of the dynamics of such a relationship. Whether we want to admit it or not, sex, love, and relationships are all intertwined. One often affects another. Yes, I understand that sometimes sex is just about sex but, as many of my readers know, I like to add these elements to my stories for exploration. Okay, so maybe I also like to add shape shifters and other supernatural beings, along with religious twists but hey, it"s all good.

Many, many years ago, I had a friend that confided in me her greatest sexual fantasy. She told me that this act was something she had always wished for, and would bring her sexual fulfillment, but she was afraid to actually make it happen. She thought that once this fantasy came to fruition, she would be left with no other fantasy in her mind. I assured her that, by the time this fantasy was fulfilled, she would already be craving another.

Her fantasy involved multiple partners. I think five was her number -- all men, and all at once.

Anyway, my story idea involves a woman with two men. I want to bring out the element of sexual fulfillment my main character finds in this relationship but also want to express why the character might find personal fulfillment beyond sexual in this style of relationship.

What are your thoughts on this type of relationship?

In researching this article, I found that most erotica seems to revolve around threesomes with one man and two women. I guess that is the belief held by the populace, or maybe the fantasy held by those reading erotic stories.

What about a woman involved with two men? I know this is the formulaic 'love triangle' but I would want the relationship to be open. I would imagine though, in real life, there might be conflict arising from such an arrangement.

Source: openexchange.org

 

If you would like to research this lifestyle, here are a couple of links to get you started:
 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polyamory

http://www.livescience.com/27128-polyamory-myths-debunked.html

http://www.examiner.com/article/polyamory-the-news
 
What are your thoughts on this? Would you read a story based on this type of relationship, or a story of the formation of this type of relationship? Please tell me your thoughts by commenting below.

How Do You Like It?

When you are reading a story, do you ever notice (on a conscious level) who is talking? If the story is written well, most readers don't even notice who is doing the narrating or telling of the story. If you do notice these things, who do you prefer tells the story.

I know that most of the time, the story is told through the main character--either through the eyes of that character or a narrator that pulls you into the head of the main character. I've noticed that many stories nowadays are told in first-person with the use the "I" with all events filtered through that person. I've also noticed a trend toward telling the story this way and moving from one character's viewpoint to another at some point in the book. Use of the first-person seems very common in erotica.

Funny thing, very few of my stories are written in the first-person. If I recall, my Wendy Parker, Sex in Pubic series is the only thing written this way. Of course, for whatever reason, this series remains most popular among my readers.

I've written another story, Lexi's Run using multiple viewpoints and it seems (through sales, anyway) this the least favorite among my readers. Although this is one of the stories I personally enjoy the most. Of course, this stories lack of popularity could be because this story is not erotic, and it considered romantic suspense with the main character a virgin throughout. But hey, it is paranormal and the main character does end up with a mate of her choosing for life.

I personally think the reason for the popularity in the use of first-person in erotica is two-fold.

First, I believe it brings the reader into the main character's head--the reader sees what the character sees and feels what the character feels. Essentially, the reader becomes the main character through intimate identification.

Second, the nature of much of the erotic story is confessional. Confessional is best read through the person doing the confessing. Think about the popularity of the Shades of Grey series.

I've come to believe that the popularity of this series is due partly because of the confessional nature of the story. I mean, let's be honest, how many readers actually believe that this virginal college student just happens to meet a billionaire in a hardware store and then almost immediately agrees (by contract, no less) to his odd terms. I know it is a very romantic notion but I suppose, for me, anyway, I cannot be made to believe that this virgin's first time is the best she ever had (well, duh) and that her lover's appendage is now the biggest she's ever seen. Really? How many has she seen at this point? and how does she suddenly come into all this sexual knowledge to become such a sex kitten?

But I digress.

How do you prefer a story be told. Are your preferences different between say erotica and fantasy? Paranormal or suspense?

Or, does it depend entirely on the story being told? What say you?

Release Day

It's finaly here - Release Day.

It's official.

Center Stage is now available everywhere (almost.) Find it on:
Amazon,

Barnes and Noble,

Smashwords,

or at All Romance eBooks. (Shh, still free here for the day, maybe longer.)

May be few weeks before it is available at ibooks, Diesel, Kobo, and others.

Torrent Downloading

Credit: searchcopy.blogspot.com

A few days ago I received an email from google alerts with the keywords "Ellison + James" in the search criteria.

Upon opening the email to view the stats, I learned something new - there is a place where one can download material offered free or otherwise, called Torrent.

Now, it just so happens, the story of mine listed on this site is one I already offer free, so it was no big deal.

And now for the really weird part -- I wouldn't probably not care if I saw all of my work on this site. Sure, I want to be properly compensated for the work I perform in creating a story, the cost of covers, editing, or whatever other items I must pay for in order to sell my work on the open market, but am unaffected by someone coming into possession of my material unlawfully.

In fact, the way I look at it, I want to get my books into as many hands as possible. There is always the chance that just a few of those scammers will actually read my material. Still fewer might actually like what they read and want more. If this process gains me just one more fan, I'm happy.

Even if that one fan continues to obtain my work illegally, they might tell one of their friends about my work, and that friend may actually decide to purchase something with real money. So, in the end, a gain for me

So, if you've come across my work under whatever means, please do not hesitate to email me and give me your thoughts. Consider my free work payment in advance for the word of mouth advertising you will give me in the future.

Of course, like any other author working hard to protect their intellectual property, I loathe those that take my work and try to resell it, passing it off as their own. Fortunately, I have not personally had such an experience but know some that have.

One last thing. Okay maybe two. I love to hear from readers, even if they are not completely satisfied with a story (Praise makes me happy but criticism can make me a better writer) so write away. Also, I love to get my stories out there, so if you have purchased something of mine in the past, I would be more than happy to work with you in obtaining (free, if necessary) the rest of my library.

One last thing. I will post here on 26 February to make the announcement of the official release of my latest story, Center Stage, along with links for purchase everywhere. But, if you look for it at Amazon or Barnes and Noble, or Smashwords, or All Romance eBooks, you might find it now, as they are processing the book as of now.

Thank you

A Little Taste

I wanted to start the new year with a taste of what's to come in the near future.

For those of you waiting patiently for the next installment in the Immortal Desires series, Demon Among Wolves, I'm currently working on this story and the next. I've struggled with this next story because it will prove to be a turning point in which the entire focus of the story will change. Some Characters will die while others are introduced, and the real main character to the series will be introduced.

Anyway, I continue to write short, fun stories full of intrigue and sensual naughtiness. Soon I will be finishing  the next installment in the popular storyline of Wendy Parker -- exhibitionist, voyeur, and fiance' to Rick. Here's an excerpt from the story. This is an excerpt from the upcoming story, Center Stage. Enjoy:

Trip and Fiona led us to our seats. I felt like we were in a grand processional with Trip in front of us and Fiona pushing us along from behind. Aside from the ushering, our seats were wonderful--right up in the front row and center stage. The theater buzzed with a kind of hushed expectancy as if all the patrons knew that something exciting was about to begin. I wondered if all the couples were given special invitations, or if there was some other means of gaining access to whatever event was going to take place here tonight.

The event started with all the fanfare and hoopla of a circus. A tall muscular man moved forward as the curtain opened. He wore an elaborate mask with long feathers curling over the top of his head, and a long beak nose extending in front. Other than his mask, he wore no clothing except for a small g-string that looked like it was made for a woman. The small pouch in front barely covered an enormous bulge. It could have been the minuscule amount of fabric covering him but he appeared extremely well-endowed--more than extreme--his size was such that he might have been best suited for a carnival, or side show. It suddenly occurred to me that this was going to be a grand exhibition, and I settled into my seat for something I knew I was going to enjoy.

The first act was a woman contortionist. She bent and stretched in unnatural but sensual ways that seemed to defy the limits of the human body. Another woman joined her, performing some kind of sensual Eastern style dance as the contortionist moved into the background and disappeared behind the curtain. Shortly thereafter, a man joined the woman in her dance. She was wearing a dress made of loose-fitting satin and sheer material, while the man wore loose pants and a vest. Their costumes made them appear almost like an Eastern Indian prince and princess. The couple joined in an embrace, and as they spun away, the man held a piece of the woman's dress. It unraveled as she turned until the remaining fabric fell from her body, leaving her completely naked on the stage. They danced around each other in a kind of mating dance one might see from birds, and on the next pass, the woman pulled the vest from the man's shoulders. When they again embraced and broke away, the woman carried with her, the man's pants. They must have been held to him with Velcro. Their dance continued, both of them now naked, until it evolved into a series of embraces and movements in which the man lifted the woman or she slid around him in some provocative manner.

Just as the act was ending, Trip and Fiona got up from their seats in unison. Trip whispered, "we'll be right back" as he passed in front of us. I wondered where they were going, hoping they weren't leaving us alone in this theater full of strangers. I looked around and saw most of the other couples getting very comfortable with each other. Although I would never admit it out loud, I'd secretly wished I was one of those acts up on the stage. Rick and I could sure find a way to entertain the audience.

Rick whispered, "look, the next act is starting," and caught my attention by placing his hand on my knee and moving it ever-so-cautiously upwards until he reached the hem of my short skirt.

A little shiver climbed up my spine and I mentally dared him to continue moving his hand up my thigh. Sadly, he didn't bite. He was preoccupied with the stage. A series of long ropes of fabric were lowering from the ceiling, and music began pumping through unseen speakers. It was the kind of music one might expect to hear in a strip club while men threw money at a woman climbing seductively up and down a brass pole. After the fabric stopped moving, falling into place a mere foot or two above the floor, a woman appeared through the curtains at the back of the stage. The woman was completely naked except for ballet shoes and a ribbon to hold her hair up. Her body was sleek and toned, and she moved onto the stage with a grace found only in well-seasoned dancers. I was drawn to the fluid motion of her tight muscular body as she wrapped her arms around both lengths of fabric and easily hoisted herself off the floor.

I felt Rick's hand slowly inching up my thigh as the truly talented woman on stage managed to get her legs wrapped around the sheets of fabric and perform the splits, exposing the entire audience to all her frontal assets. Although I would never admit it if asked, I found her not only talented in a physical sense, but quite sensual and artistic in her fluid movements along those threads of fabric. She slid slowly down the long sheets of fabric as the lights in the theater dimmed. Darkness enveloped the entire space as she touched the floor, and after she left the stage, a spotlight turned onto the curtains. I am still to this day not sure, but I think that when the curtain opened, my jaw actually dropped.

For those that may not have read the previous exploits of Wendy Parker, I will tell you that her adventure started not so long ago with a mistaken peek into someone else's apartment. Her decisions and actions led her into the exhibitionist and voyeuristic lifestyle. She soon drew her boyfriend, Rick into her activities. In her second story, Wendy continues her practices on a business trip to Seoul, South Korea, bringing Rick along, where her trip ends with a proposal of marriage.

Center Stage may be the last in this short series but fear not, there are others in the works.

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.

Fifty Shades of Fantasy

Wasn't that a catchy title? I wanted to title this post "Realistic Fantasy" but simply could not resist the temptation of the title above.

Truth is, I recently succumbed to all the hype over the E.L. James trilogy and to begin reading it for myself. About half-way through the first book, something struck me as profound--although the story uses a realistic backdrop, the situation is just far enough beyond reality to qualify as fantastic fiction.

I don't mean 'fantastic' as in 'great' (I'm sorry, but the quality certainly is not great) rather, I mean 'fantastic' as in beyond the realm of the realistic. That is, in fact, what attracts most readers to fiction.

When the word 'fantastic' is mentioned, I feel we've ventured into my territory. I would consider many of my stories in the realm of the fantastic, but at a polar opposite to stories such as FSoG.

Let me splain.

The premise of my stories are based in the fantastic. I like to take the paranormal existence of my characters and make them believable by grounding them in the real world. Realistic fiction takes normal (human) characters and attempts to bring their actions into the realm of the fantastic.

So, in a sense, many paranormal and fantasy stories must concentrate more on the realistic in order to help the reader suspend their inherent disbelief of the subject matter. I find this aspect of paranormal stories fascinating.

For instance, in my latest novel, Lexi's Run, my main character, Alexis, is a shape shifting werewolf living among an entire community of shape shifting werewolves.

How could I make her seem real?

First, I made sure that her community lives in secret among mere mortals. See, now I bet you're already thinking, "Yeah, this could be happening right now. In fact, this might explain the weird behaviour I've witnessed in my neighbor, Joannie."

Second, I made sure that Alexis lived as much of a normal human life as I could outside of her secret existence. She grew up in the small North Georgia town of Ellijay, Georgia, nestled at the foothills of the Appalachian mountains. He parents took her to all the local fairs, she attended college in Atlanta, and did all the things that a normal human would do. She just did them through the filter of werewolf royalty.

This way the reader gets to know Alexis as a person, and then is okay when I throw in that extra little fact that she just happens to be a shape shifting werewolf.

This is one of the reasons I like reading paranormal romance, and I'm hoping it is the reason other enjoy the genre as well.

You see, when one is reading a paranormal story a jumping off point must be provided, otherwise the story may be too unbelievable from the start. This is in direct contrast to a story such as FSoG where normal characters do things that, in real life, one might consider out of the ordinary. But that, in itself is a kind of fantasy. And isn't that what reading is all about? It is this ability to experience things as if we are the main character doing things we would never personally do.

But I still like it best when I can experience these things through the eyes of a demon, faerie, werewolf, or dare I say ... even a vampire.

Interracial Quandary

Opinions are strong and dissenting on the subject of interracial relationships.



I recently became part of a somewhat heated discussion on this subject on a social networking site. I learned that there still exists, those people that truly believe that each should keep to their own kind, and that relationships involving differing cultures, races, or ethinicities are still taboo, or in the case of a sexual relationship, fetish.

Should one consider the written expression of a relationship between people of differing backgrounds taboo, or fetish? I think that would depend on the context in which the story of the relationship is written. I believe that, in America and throughout the world, there still exists an element of taboo in such a relationship. But should it? I personally do not understand how some have come to a point in their thinking that they might believe that interracial relationships are akin to bestiality. Yes, there are those that believe this, even today.

First, a little background.

Quite possibly, this attitude is left over from a time (I believe this thinking fell out of favor in medieval times) when peoples commonly subscribed to the practice of endogamy in marriage. This is when a community practices marriage among those within their own community. Communities prescribed to this practice in an effort to preserve the purity of their race, community, or culture. This practice was especially common among royalty.

It did not take long for people to begin to realize the ill-affects of inbreeding. Oddly enough, as much as many think that those of African descent are somehow less advanced than those of Anglo-European, communities within Africa discovered these problems long before Europeans and prescribed to the practice of exogamy or outbreeding. Villagers would sometimes travel for days to forge relationships and arrange marriages among those of another village.

Why all the hate?

Interracial relationships have always been considered out of the norm, or taboo. This belief permeates all cultures, ethnicities, and races. As our world moved more toward a global community, the occurrence of this type of relationship became more prevalent, but not commonplace. Relationships between those of differing backgrounds was normally one-sided, being a product of purchase, or even kidnapping.

During the colonization and increased exploration of America, new farms and a fledgling economy brought with it a voracious appetite for labor. The most cost-effective form of labor at the time was slavery. There existed some Anglo-European slaves and indentured servants in the country but the slave trade took off like a rocket with the discovery and transport of people from Africa. These new slaves were easily identifiable, inexpensive, and would not demand their freedom after their term of indentured servitude. The concept of rounding up entire tribes, sometimes against their will, and shipping them across an ocean in disease-laden conditions was made easier to swallow with the falsely perpetrated belief that these people were somehow less than human by those that might wish to purchase them.

Of course, many female slaves ended up pregnant by their masters. This was the beginning of ill-feelings toward relationships between those of differing skin color. Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't just African slaves that brought about this belief . It was perpetuated by those of all backgrounds. Many also demonized relationships between Whites and Indians, or Whites and Chinese during the Westward expansion.

In America, our strange beliefs revolve mostly between those of African descent and those of Anglo-European descent, or Blacks and Whites.

Even after slavery was abolished, there remained a deep-seated hatred of blacks from whites and an equally deep-seated distrust of whites from blacks. I will use the term "whites" and "blacks" from this point only for ease of distinction, although I personally find the term crude and misleading. More than any other race, ethnicity, or immigrant, those of African descent continued to suffer prejudicial treatment until, some would argue, today.

For a white man to have a relationship with a black woman was considered taboo. It was frowned upon. But for a black man to enter into a relationship with a white woman, could be deadly. In fact, in America and other countries, lawmakers commissioned anti-miscegenation laws. The very name of these laws expresses the long-standing misunderstanding of nature, and more specifically, the human race. The term "miscegenation" refers to breeding outside of a genus. This strikes me as odd since all of human race (emphasis on race) falls within the same genus.

On a more personal note, I find it difficult to understand how people can actually think that relationships between different cultures and ethnicities can be so wrong. After all, if we were really all so very different, one might think that nature would have accounted for our vast differences by making us incompatible.

For those of a religious background, I offer this. If God had not intended for us as humans, as diverse as we seem, to join together, then I would think that we would have been made incompatible. The fact that when those of differing "races" have sex they produce viable offspring, proves that we are compatible. So, in my belief, that is what God intended.

For those believing in evolution, I would say the same thing. We are an adaptable species and we know that, over time, many species have had to adapt in order to survive. This being the case, it is still true that the union of a cat with a dog cannot produce viable offspring. On the contrary, the union between humans of all backgrounds produce viable offspring. With this fact, I must surmise that all humans are close enough in their genetic make-up to be compatible. Therefore, the union is natural.

Although it is a well known fact that people of all backgrounds produce viable offspring, social fears remit a response quite different than one might think logical. In America, relationships between those of differing backgrounds was so frowned upon that laws were passed in an attempt to discourage people of different races to marry. The laws served only to strengthen the resolve of those in legitimate relationships and fuel the taboo and exoticism of sex with someone "different."

Yes, we actually had "anti-miscegenation" laws forbidding the marriage between whites and those of other backgrounds such as: African, Chinese (or any Mongolian or Asian) Indian, and even Mexican. These laws continued to exist, at least in Southern states, until June 1967 when Richard and Mildred Loving persevered in having the law rescinded after being married and discriminated against since their marriage in 1958.


Is it taboo? Fetish?

Yes and no for both. Taboo is based on community or societal norms, while fetishism is something more personal. But is reading about interracial relationships titillating? Again, the answer is yes and no. Some writers specifically put interracial relationships into their stories for the benefit of their readers. They do this because they are catering to the group of readers that enjoy reading about those of differing backgrounds engaged in sexual acts. Some focus specifically on physical differences to gain the arousal of their readers. But is that necessarily a bad thing?

I might ask, should we think it bad to think about, or dare I say, fantasize about having sex with someone different from ourselves? Why should it be shameful or prejudicial to think of such things? How many of you can honestly say that you've never had the slightest fantasy about someone different from yourself, and the fantasy revolved around, and was perpetuated by those differences? Again, I don't understand the problem in this.

I have an erotic story on the market right now called Pleasure Doing Business involving a three-way relationship between a white man, a black woman, and a Hispanic woman. They are the best of friends and astute business professionals. They join together to help their friend expand her fledgling business and their old feelings boil up until they must express them in a most physical way.  Did I put these three people together on purpose? In the case of this story, the answer would be no. These are just the personalities that came out of my head as I wrote the story. Is is possible that it was my own fantasies fueling the creation of these characters? Of course, and I would hope that it would be something readers would fantasize about as well.

Anyway, not more that two months after the publication of this story, I received a review accusing me of being "racial" in naming my one of my characters Reshonda. I think the reviewer wrote something to the affect of "using the name Reshonda reeks of prejudicial beliefs." Well, just in case you're wondering, Reshonda may be considered a stereotypical, even racial name elsewhere, but down here in the South, it's fairly common. And by the way, there are plenty of white girls named Reshonda too.

While I like to use diverse characters in my stories, I also like to write them in as if the relationship, whether it be only sexual or long-term loving, happens in the natural course of of their lives. I try to be honest and have my characters make the same considerations as they would in any relationship.

In Lexi's Run my lead character Kyle Frost, a black man, meets his future leading lady, a white woman. The original manuscript contained a small section where Kyle considered his budding relationship with Alexis. He actually had some self dialogue about about how his mother would be turning in her grave if she knew he was falling in love with a white woman. It may seem bold, but people of color have these issues about interracial relationships too. White folks do not have a monopoly on prejudice. After harsh prompting, I removed all references of his consideration as more than one beta reader stated their concern that some readers would not understand his actions.

But, is the relationship between Kyle and Alexis fetishism? Does their coupling explore something considered taboo? I would hope that I wrote the story in a fashion that the reader will hardly notice their "racial" differences. That is not to say Kyle is completely free from prejudicial treatment. He is still considered a "feral" by the rest of Alexis' werewolf community.

The question remains with Kyle and Alexis, are they a contrived relationship, put into the story for the purpose of satiating reader's desire for an interracial relationship? Well, kinda.

Kyle and Alexis originally appeared in my novel Lovestruck Succubus. They had to work and live in close quarters for great lengths of time while hunting down rogues. Even though they are recently married or "mated" they bicker and then make up like an old married couple. This provided an avenue of dichotomy for me--a kind of yin and yang within their characterization. I wanted others to see this dichotomy so I took it a step further making Kyle a very dark-skinned black man with a bald head, while in contrast, Alexis was very pale-skinned and of obvious Eastern European descent. Yes, they have sex in this novel but it was written as erotica, what else would one expect?

Now, was their sexual encounter derivative of their differences? No, and any thought that I planned it that way is only in the reader's mind. While I like to show diversity within my stories, I also like to make these relationships seem natural. Does that mean it is not alright to write or read material that glorifies a person because of their background? Of course not. I believe it is perfectly okay, normal even, to show loving relationships between people of different "races" and think is is just as natural if we want to go a step further and celebrate, or even provide taboo or fetish titillation for someone different from ourselves.

Why not celebrate and relish our diversity rather than discourage such openness? What are your thoughts on interracial relationships, whether they be in a story or in real life. Certainly we've made advances in our civilization in order to understand that this is natural--something that should be accepted as a natural fact. It is the perceived prohibition of such a relationship that makes it into a subject of taboo and fetish, and that is something I would hope that we as humans could certainly rise above.

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.