The Keys of Fate by Ashley Fontainne

Sweat erupted out of every pore. My entire body trembled, the terror rose deep from within. My eyes were frozen upon the silver choices in front of me, unable to blink while I stared into the blue abyss of my fate. In mock uniformity they each hung in silence. They waited for me to make my choice. The only distinguishable feature that separated one from the other was the room numbers intricately carved above each key.  

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. The pounding blood tore through me, perhaps for the last time. The enormity of my situation rendered me immobile, the words to form an answer locked inside my throat.  Over thirty unknown options intended to end my life were in front of me. The horrors prepared in the abandoned hotel rooms that each key unlocked were contrived by the man holding the sharp steel against my throat.

“Time’s up. Chose now or I will. I know what’s behind each door and I doubt you would enjoy the one I pick. Who knows? The fates may guide you to the room that will be the least painful, and over the fastest.”

Escape was not an option. I knew only seconds of life remained. I had to know what brought me to this dreadful end.

“Why?” my voice was strong, unwilling to show my fear.

The tip of the blade caressed my cheek with almost loving strokes, the stranger’s breath hot in my ear.

“You were today’s toy. Lucky you.” 

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Motel Truth or Dare by D X Luc


The rain was a sideways sheet of ruin. At least it was to Jamallah. Now she would have to stop at a motel.

It was several more miles before she finally came to a dank, run down hell hole.

“Black woman goes into creepy motel in no man land? Great idea!” Jamallah mumbled as she lugged her bags inside.

No one stood at the counter leaving her to ring the bell and when the shadow appeared from the back office, Jamallah began to reevaluate her decision to enter this God forsaken place.

“Can I help you, luscious?”

Blinking she stared into the stormy green eyes of the motel clerk, their glow partly obscured by his dusty brown hair.

Frowning she handed him her card and notched her chin. “Room for the night. Make it a clean one if you can spare it.”

Her insult didn't get her quite the reaction she hoped for. She frowned down at his name tag. “Your name is Spere? As in Spear?”

He opened a blue case, loaded with antique keys. Yup, horror movie was written all over this place and she was gonna die.

Spere presented her with a grin that would give the devil a hard on. “My name is quite proper for what I'm good at. Now no payment required here. Pick a key. Any key. Truth or Dare, my dear. Matters not to me. Either way, tonight I'm going to set you free.”

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Room 323 By Jamallah Bergman

“Room 323 please”

The young lady went to the Cobalt Blue wall where several old fashioned metal keys hung on their individual hooks. Taking the one that had the small plaque over it that said ‘323’, she smiled at the older gentleman who gave her a wink as he walked away.

He had anticipated their meeting all week for it had been years since he last talked with her, much less seen her in person. Pressing the elevator button up, the door immediately opened as he got inside and pressed the button number ‘3’ while they closed once more before him.

She was shocked when he contacted her and when they got to talking; he realized that he had been a fool for leaving her like he did. He got what he had wanted from her but left her with nothing but unanswered questions.  This time he told her he would make it right, he had thought about her way too much over the years.

Now he had her….and he wasn’t about to let her go from him again.

When the doors opened and he walked out onto the long hallway, he followed the signs that lead him to the door….door 323. Taking a deep breath, he put the key in the door and heard the click when he turned it. Walking inside the room, he saw a pair of long thick brown legs crossed at the foot of the bed.

He walked even further and said, “Hello my dear.”

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Key To The Past by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

            “I’d like my key, please.”

            Elise drummed her fingers with impatience as the desk clerk fumbled as he handed it over.  She wanted nothing more after a long day at the convention than a long soak in a warm bath, good red wine, and solitude. 

            When she opened the door to her room, Elise expected to see the modern décor featured in the hotel brochure.  Instead, a huge Victorian bed claimed a third of the floor space and dark red flocked wall paper covered the walls.  A man dressed in antique garments stared at her from his place beside the window.

            “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?” he asked.

            “Tell me why you’re in my room,” Elise barked back.  She noticed, however, how attractive he was in an old-fashioned style.

            “And I might ask why you’re in your petticoat.”

            Elise glanced down at her white eyelet sundress, rolled her eyes, and stared. “It’s a dress,” she said. “Why’re you dressed like the 1890’s?”

            His eyes widened but he smiled. “1892 to be exact,” he said as he pointed to a calendar on the wall. “Are you the lady of the evening I requested?”

            Anticipation rippled down her spine. He’d named her secrete fantasy, to act as a courtesan for one night. “I am,” she said and kissed him. “I’m Elise.”

            “Ben,” he said. He took her in his arms and gave back the kiss with powerful heat.

            Morning, she decided, would be time enough for explanations.

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   Key To Hell – Barbara Watkins

Cassandra closed the door behind her to room 236 and placed the key on the nightstand by the bed. She had frequented this establishment many times over the past few months, reserving a different room each time. However, on this night, key 236 would either unlock the door to madness or free the way to enlightenment. Wasting no time, she reached into her purse, pulled out a mini recorder, and hit the record button.

“I blame no one for what I’m about to do. I have been living under a cloud of darkness for some time now – a life without meaning or purpose. I cannot find the strength to go on any longer.”

Hitting the stop button on the recorder, she pushed the playback button and cringed when she heard not her voice, but a beastly growl followed by a disembodied voice.

“Feed that hunger to drive your soul into hell. Unleash your earthly shackles – prepare to walk a carpet of black blood into my kingdom. For here, firelight will brighten your darkness and you shall have a purpose.”

Cassandra threw the recorder across the room. The existence of the ghostly evidence lay scattered across the gleaming wooden floor. Had she been given a foretaste of what her soul would encounter?

Concerned, after several days and unanswered calls to room 236, the hotel desk clerk ordered the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign be removed.

The desk clerk entered the room with the housemaid following close behind. “Don’t tell me it has happened again?”

“What?”

The desk clerk shook his head in disgust. “You think people would have enough respect to turn in the key and let us know when checking out early! And why does it always happen in room 236?”  

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Betrayal by Kassanna

Carnoman glanced behind him before entering the building. Staying vigilante was a must and now was not the time to get arrogant. The demons fought amongst themselves and the angels were threatening war. His plan couldn’t have gone any smoother. A chuckle escaped past his lips as he eased the door closed behind him. The old stairs he climbed creaked under his feet as he made his way up careful not to lean on the crumbling bannister. Yes, he would show them, those he called brother that dared to laugh. Soon enough he would have all the power and the denizens of heaven and hell alike would bow to him. He stopped on the landing.

His hand hovered above the crystal knob. A millennia, it had taken so many years and much careful planning but his time was almost at hand. Carnoman leaned forward and placed his cheek on the wooden panel. A slight thump, currents of anticipation traveled along his spine, he would rule the worlds. He wrapped his fingers around the knob and turned it. A faint blue light illuminated the room and everywhere he looked there were keys. They hung from the ceiling and were strung across the walls. He grazed his fingertips over the cool metal of a skeleton key as he entered the room and deftly shut the door behind him. He’d traded, smuggled or outright stolen every key in the room and when the time was right he would use them.


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Keys to submission, by Michel Prince

            The end of Jessica’s shift at The Longfellow Hotel was always quiet and allowed her a few minutes to flip through the pages of her latest vamp novel.  Lost in the world created by her favorite author a cold wind blew in from the door rattling the keys behind her, but the entry door was still closed.  Turning left and right she tried to see where the breeze could have come from.  The winter weather had negated the option of an open window.

            “Is there a vacancy?” A man appeared in front of her.

            “Um…yes, sir,” she replied while trying to regain her composure. 

            Had he been standing there all along?  She surely wouldn’t have missed a man of his stature.  Standing before her with broad shoulders the man had to be at least six-seven with long dark hair framing his chiseled face.  He was mesmerizing.  This fear she’d initially felt melted as his charcoal eyes seemed to dive into her soul. 

            Nervously she turned and fondled the key for room 214.

            “I require a room with western exposure,” he informed and she switched to room 247.

            “Yes sir.”

            “You seem very agreeable.”

            His voice washed over her and she felt heat wrapping around her whole body.  Jessica seemed to feel as if anything he said she’d be powerless to refuse.

            “Do I?”

            “If you reply yes sir one more time I might have to give that phrase a new meaning for you.”

           
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Freedom Keys W Lynn Chantale

“I got it!” Dustin exclaimed.

Willow jerked her head up at the snap and jangle of manacles falling to the hard packed dirt. “Hurry. Time is running out,” she said. She stared at the large face of the clock. They’d been given a choice, find the key to free themselves or suffer an unspeakable death.

Shrieks of terror echoed through the ventilation shaft followed by the whirl of a chainsaw. Those screams increased in volume and pitch before the room silent again. The silence was just as frightening.

Dustin jammed the key in the lock. It didn’t work. He raced to the blue board, snatching the remaining keys from their hooks.

 “Leave me,” she whispered.

“I don’t think so.” Each key he inserted fit, but did not turn the lock.

Willow stared at the clock. The minute hand moved way too fast. They had less than five minuted to leave. The shackles loosened.

“Got it!”

She shook off the chains. Dustin grabbed her hand and they ran for the door, the bright light cut a swath through the dimness. Behind them a siren blared. Out of time. Footsteps pounded across wooden boards. Just a little farther.

Willow swiveled her head.

“Don’t look back!”

Sunlight danced on her skin. A burst of energy pumped her legs faster. Together they leapt through the opening and into freedom. Panting they held each and peered at the house. A shadowed figure stood on the threshold. He saluted them, glided backward and the door closed.

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Hotel Hell, Elizabeth Morgan

It was idiotic how easy it was to become uncomfortable. How stepping inside an establishment could cause unease to wash over you; leaving the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck standing on end within a single moment.

Knowing a building was haunted never helped, but the most people saw such a statement as a simple way of reeling tourists in. Then again most people were narrow-minded, something you couldn’t be in my line of work.

My footsteps were steady as I moved across the marble floor; not stopping for a second until I stood before the receptionist desk.

“Welcome to the Peak Hotel. Do you have a reservation?” The brunette glanced between myself and Jace; her blue gaze lingering a little too long on my partner.

“Yes. Hunter.” Jace replied.

A few clicks on her computer keyboard and her pleasant expression tightened. “It appears we have a parcel waiting for you, sir. One moment please.”

I let out a breath the moment the brunette disappeared.

“You feel it to?” Jace asked through clenched teeth. His focus fixed dead ahead.

I had no doubt that if he shifted forms every strand of his glossy coat would be stood on end. The energy in the building was pulsating.

“Feel it? I’m drowning in bad vibes over here.”

“It would explain why Keldar picked this location. What better place to open a door to the other world then-”

“A hotel with over four hundred guests and lord knows how many staff.” I finished as my gaze wandered over the large wooden key shelf that consumed the entire wall before us; noting the number of empty hooks.

“This amount of life force mixed with the energy already staining this premises  . . . opening the door is going to be as easy as breathing.”

I looked at him. “Then I suggest we find, gag, and bring him in before he unleashes a shitload of unwelcome visitors.”

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Layla Swanson grew up in the lazy, small town of Hollow Oaks and can’t wait to get out.  She has big dreams and big plans in the big city.  Layla has worked hard and her senior year is nearly at its end.  She can’t wait to go away to college.  And she’s one step closer to getting what she wants. Layla isn’t letting anyone get in her way. 

Taylor Scott may not be your typical country boy, but he doesn’t mind Hollow Oaks.  His dreams may not be marked on paper and set in stone, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them. 

A chance meeting between the two childhood friends may have Layla second guessing her longtime plan. Their rekindled friendship is leading them down a path neither one could have foreseen.  But with Layla leaving for college, many challenges face them, especially when she so stubbornly sticks to her solo plan.

Is Taylor’s love enough to convince Layla to let him in?  Or when everything falls apart, will Layla run away?    

Blurb:

Dom Sal is the star quarterback of his high school football team. His charming, earnest personality has girls tripping over themselves to be with him. Everyone knows his family lives in the St. Michael Charity Housing, but all that matters is how many touchdowns he can score. And Dom never lets them down. No one knows he hides a secret—he dreams about men.

Damion Adrik is the school freak. His gothic style and cold, biting sarcasm keep everyone at arm's length. His all-too-perfect family is a prison cell, and he's slowly destroying himself from the inside out. No one knows he has secrets of his own and that he's tormented by the darkness he takes comfort in. No one truly sees him, until Dom.

When these two worlds collide and the spark of attraction pulls Dom and Damion together, both boys are faced with choices that will break their realities in two. While conflict with parents and peers drives them closer together, their inner battles threaten to destroy the relationship they fight so desperately to keep. In the end, they must choose whether to be true to themselves, and each other, or to drown in the lives they built before.

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Nancy LaPonzina

Nardi Point


Should the past make way for the present …

Stylish, brunette Laurinda Elliot is the type of accomplished business woman glossy magazines feature on their covers. Effectively managing a software product development team in Raleigh, North Carolina, Laurinda’s drive and savvy delivers all the perks: an upscale townhouse, Porsche Boxter convertible and designer clothing. Yet she now yearns for a different success—one that brings surprising first time experience with vulnerability. Her uber software code developer partner Dan Riser, can’t buy into the new direction she leads them, but goes along to keep the peace, and more importantly, beautiful Laurinda.

Or the present make way for the past—and love …

When prehistoric Native American pottery artifacts are discovered on the couple’s North Raleigh building site in the Nardi Point subdivision, the ancient past collides with the present and Laurinda and Dan’s relationship hangs in the balance. Laurinda must trump construction economics and greed to preserve commitment to her dream, uphold her friendship with holistic healing practitioner, Leyla Jo Piper, and answer to a new romance, all while attempting to conserve North Carolina history. Will digging up the past, bury her future? Nardi Point explores the thread of life that blends past, current, and future to recognize the importance of knowing who we are in the story of life.

#  #  #

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·      

DH Black


Another stop on the Rebel Elite Blog Hop Tour and I so hope you guys are enjoying. This has been such fun and remember there are lots of prizes.

     
I think because we are well aware none of us are perfectly sane or without a troubling past to some degree. We’ve all been there with a family member or work and some of us have had to deal with things we certainly either don’t want to talk about, can’t or refuse to let the events take over our lives. These are what I call the everyday heroes and my characters in The Retribution Collection all have something tragic in their past they can barely tolerate. Some are longing for retribution while others simply are trying to have a normal every day life.

     When we select a book to read some of us chose by the cover alone. They can be powerful in both their color and the title and sometimes that alone is enough to draw our interest. Then there’s the synopsis and if we aren’t certain and read and are drawn into the worlds then we’re hooked. For me personally I think when I read about the character who has something they’re hiding I want to find out what drives him or her. I want to know the ugly secret and when I find out I’m praying and hoping they’ll be able to get through their moments of anguish.

     Haven’t we all read books where we’ve been rooting for our hero or heroine and in the end we feel short changed? Perhaps the author provided a twist they thought was sensational or they were alluding to the possibility of another book but we were left with a sense of almost loathing and completely unsatisfied because our hero died or perhaps didn’t win the heart of the fair maiden. As writers we take a huge risk when we’re putting together the piece and especially the ending. Will the reader get what we’re trying to say?

     Try having a flawed character that you may or may not like initially and hoping the reader will be sympathetic enough to continue reading to learn why the guy acts like a jerk or the woman sleeps around. It’s because we want them to succeed. Since we all have flaws we also want to read about characters who have almost insurmountable issues because when they overcome them we’re elated and excited. Our heart races and we cry and sometimes scream for them. It takes us away from our everyday lives and reminds us we aren’t alone in suffering.

     In creating Inferno I wanted my hero to really experience being a hero and he does. He’s not only saving lives by fighting fires but he’s one hot guy who’s nice as can be and television reporters are drawn to him. While I didn’t want him arrogant I wanted you to know right up front he’s hiding something so traumatic for him he’s not certain he’ll ever get out of the dark place. And then tragedy strikes and he’s forced to face more than one demon buried inside. It’s erotic yes but very gritty and in the end I think it’ll give you pause. I do always place a twist in my pieces but I think you’ll enjoy the wild ride for my hero – my fireman and so I tip my hat to the men and women who serve and protect us every day. Without you our very worlds wouldn’t be the same.

     Take a taste of Inferno – the second in The Retribution Collection.

“Oh my God! The entire building is going to go! We got here too late. Where’s the fucking Goddamn ladder company? Shit!”
Lieutenant Troy Danton shivered as he stood on the street staring at the flames licking out of almost every window. Billows of black smoke towered above the building as the extreme heat had already melted the fire escape on the right side of the building. Liquid metal oozed down the brick in silent streams. “Fuck! Is this damn thing abandoned?” He eyed the fire team and sighed.

“I don’t know. I’ve heard the homeless use this one sometimes.”

Hearing Bart’s strangled voice Troy could tell how worried his buddy was. They’d seen this type of fire before and prayed no one was inside. “Look. Get the water started and I’m going to go floor by floor.”

“You can’t until back up comes and you know that!” Bart snapped.

“If there’s anyone inside I don’t think I don’t think we have time.” Troy scanned the perimeter of the building and snapped his helmet in place. His gut was telling him something wasn’t right.

Bart wrapped his hand around Troy’s arm. “You have got to stop playing the fucking hero. You’re going to get yourself fucking killed here. Wait on the other truck, man. Wait.”

Just then the sound of glass shattering above them drew their attention. Troy shaded his eyes from glimmer of the afternoon sun and hissed, ducking as shards rained over them. “Oh shit! Look!” As two more fireman ran forward Troy stood watching in horror as what appeared to be a man dart his head out of the window and scream, his arms flailing wildly.

“Help me!”

Crack! Boom!

As he gave another strangled scream, a horrendous sound of cracking timbers and twisting steel floated around them. Sparks of red-hot embers trickled down from the top floors showering the sidewalk.

“God. I hate this shit! These buildings aren’t safe. Okay Bart, go work on the water and Troy let’s go to the other side and see if we can contain the fire from there. Damn it they better get here fast. Who the fuck called this in? This is shaping up to be a Signal 2-2-2.”

Troy stole a glance at the man in charge of their crew and shook his head. Bart was right. The fire was much more than a single engine and ladder crew. His body shaking he made a decision and prayed to God it was the right one. “There’s no time, Michael and you know it. I’m going in.”

“Don’t you dare for God’s sake,” Michael hissed.

But Troy wasn’t paying any attention. His adrenaline kicking into overdrive he raced toward the building, securing his facemask as the sounds of sirens emitted a shrill scream in the distance. He’d been down this road more than once and knew the drill. Some called him fearless. Others called him stupid but on this day he was determined to make sure and keep any innocents alive.

He moved cautiously into the building knowing exactly how the hot the fire was. Contained on the one side, it was going to spread rapidly given the level of debris in what appeared to be an old warehouse space. From his experience there was too much immediate damage to be anything but a set fire. While the homeless sometimes lit fires to keep warm, the massive damage suggested something else. Damn it these places were supposed to have been cleaned out. There was no telling what types of combustibles were lying around. Hearing a series of pops and cracks he flipped on the flashlight and watched every step as he headed for what had to be the stairwell.

As the heat rose around him he heard the sounds of another truck approaching. Budget cuts had made all the departments thin in employees and any wrong moves meant lives could be lost. Troy crept along the wall hovering close to the floor as he made it up the last three flights of stairs. A booming noise sounded from the other end and he could tell a portion of the building was ready to collapse. This wasn’t the damn best place to be in. Sucking in his breath Troy said a silent prayer and listened intently for the sound of victims.

He searched from room to room as the smoke grew thicker until he could barely make out anything. Damn it! He couldn’t give up. Not when he was this close to finding the man. There were few places left to search and allow a window of opportunity to keep them both alive. Troy swept the powerful beam of the flashlight through an area that had obvious signs of temporary quarters. He’d found where the man was holed up. Crackles and pops met every step and the heat became almost intolerable. The whir of a ladder rising toward what appeared to be a bank of windows on the opposite side of the room meant the team was getting closer. But was it going to be too late?

Worried about a flash fire he could tell but the rising heat things were getting out of control. At least given the expansive open areas he didn’t think a backdraft situation was going to happen. Unable to call out he continued his sweep of the room worried the man had jumped and given the height of the building the man would surely fall to his death. Panting, he licked his dry lips and continued on until a floorboard shifted under him. He heard the splintering sound of the boards beneath his feet just as a strangled cry came from the other side of the room.

“Help me…” The voice was barely audible as the man coughed and cried out. “Please…I don’t want…to die here…”

Calculating his next move Troy took a single step and immediately dropped through the floor as the area in front of him gave way. “Fuck!” His voice muffled, Troy was able to catch himself with his arms but lost the flashlight in the fall. The light bounced in front of him and rolled, stopping precariously close to what Troy could easily see was a drop off point into nowhere. Gasping for air he controlled his breathing as the flashlight shifted again and the beam pointed on the man who stood frozen in far corner of the room, a look of sheer terror riding his face. This was so not good.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Troy hissed and willed his upper body into action. Using the strength of his forearms he was just able to drag himself out of the hole, grateful nothing appeared to be broken but he sure as shit wasn’t out of the woods yet. As he eyed the rolling smoke he knew it was just a matter of time. Every move calculated he maneuvered around the hole and was able to snag the light. Losing his balance, he almost tumbled forward into the blackness.

Troy stopped for a second to catch his breath just as an explosion rocketed the back of the building. A shower of debris exploded over him sending Troy pitching forward. Hitting the floor with a hard thud the wind was knocked out of him. This is nuts. What the hell are you doing? But he pushed the ugly voice in the back of his mind. He could do this. He could save the man.

“Help…me…”

The man’s voice was getting weaker and as Troy struggled to his feet he blinked furiously. The damn smoke was so thick he could barely see anything but he pushed forward and with each step his took terror oozed down his spine until he was nearly paralyzed. Think. You can do this. Move forward. But he couldn’t. Remaining rooted to the spot he shook violently and swung the light around to where he thought the man was. Had he moved? Unable to see anything he was determined to get to a window and get the hell out of here. Light burst into the sweltering room as glass exploded spilling allowing him to see just a glimmer of the man. Suddenly he didn’t want to do anything but get out and save himself.

“Please…”

Troy heard not only the sound of the man’s almost breathless cry but also those of others who were just outside. Hissing, he willed himself to move forward taking two small steps and then was rocketed forward by a series of hard blasts. Landing several feet in front he stole a glance over his shoulder as a ball of fire roared down the hallway toward them. Something snapped in his head and he jerked to his feet, pummeling his body toward the man. He managed to snag the older gentleman around the waist and tug his frail body toward the window just as a rush of white-hot heat enveloped their bodies. Troy wrapped his body around the man in a cocoon formation and raced toward the window praying to God the crew had maneuvered the air mattresses in place or they were both toast.

He had one chance to save them and Troy knew it. As he made it to the window, kicking remnants of glass shards to widen the space he took one look down as the searing heat took his breath away sucking at the air. Saying a silent prayer he took a giant leap out of the window.

Hope you enjoyed…

DH

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My guardian angel hovers over my shoulder on a lazy Saturday afternoon and whispers in my ear, “Get off your lazy ass and write.”

            My inner slug replies, “Back off, I’m tired and I don’t feel like it.”

            That’s when a voice from the past adds his two cents.

            As a young submariner I took on responsibility for a division and felt confident in the execution of my duties. We kept our tempo pretty high and maintained a record performance amongst those in our squadron. A new chief arrived and challenged us all to do more, to work harder and to make and achieve more personal goals. Amidst the chaos I declared, “I can’t do what you ask; too many other tasks take higher priority.” He shoved a gnarly finger in my face, yet with no malice he threw down the gauntlet. “If there was a million dollars on the line, you’d get it done.”

            At first I stood there, stunned. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard. Only later, as my work day came to a close and I crawled into the sheet metal coffin that was my bunk, it dawned on me the point he clumsily made. It’s not about whether there’s money or not, but the realization, that I’d make sacrifices and find those extra ergs of energy within me, if only I found enough value in his challenge.

            Only one thing stood between meeting the higher goals he’d set or succumbing to my own tired logic; trust. Did I trust this man’s assessment? Is this extra mile worth so much that stretching myself thinner made sense? My short time with this powerful motivator, this man with a warrior’s heart, a mentor’s wisdom, and a child’s enthusiasm instantly gave me the answer I sought; of course I trusted him.

            In the end my chief showed me resources within myself I hadn’t thought possible and taught me a new way to view every step forward from there. Those memorable and rewarding days in my military career still serve as fuel for the fire that propels me forward.

            We all have dreams, but how many dreams become reality through persistence, hard work and the necessary focus? And how many more bear the bitter fruit of regret? The dreams come easily but the accomplishments often seem insurmountable before the first step is taken. A novel is a collection of chapters, the chapters, paragraphs, and the paragraphs sentences. Not everyone’s a writer, just like not everyone’s a carpenter. We all must find a marriage of passion and patience in a craft that doesn’t drive us nuts when the rubber meets the road.


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Karen Spencer was a habitual daydreamer. At night her dreams where filled with the image of a man and a creature, a large, magnificent tiger roaming the wilderness searching for something. Or someone.

Karen wanted love, earth shattering kind of love. But Karen wasn’t your average single woman. She was a shape shifter, a sleek black panther.

Victor Cummings might fit her image of tall, dark, handsome, rich and not at all human but how can a woman like Karen find love? Victor lurked in the shadows of humanity, concealing deep dark secrets. Vampire? Shape Shifter?

Love comes to those who wait, to those who give of themselves freely, willing to be what nature intended them to be. But in broad daylight, another deadly creature will seek revenge and take what belongs to the beautiful shape shifter

           

Karen Spencer will find the nemesis and be willing to fight to the death to save the love of her life. Will love be her strength? Is the man of her dreams worth the greatest sacrifice of all?

Excerpt:

Chapter Three

Karen wondered if Victor could be the man of her dreams. Could his face be the face she’d trouble seeing? Was his love the love she craved? Karen knew him, even though she’d never met him until tonight. Could he be the man she’d been waiting for all her life. He picked her up letting her shoes fall to the floor as he put her down on his bed.

“Wait,” Karen said, stopping Victor as he put his knee down on the bed.

“What is it?” he said, patiently easing himself back from her.

“Have you any idea what I am?” Karen said as she inched slowly from him.

Victor’s fangs snapped down, Karen gasped.

“Do you have any idea what I am?” he said, smiling broadly, his fangs large and ominous.

She didn’t turn from him but looked at him with blatant desire. Karen stared at him her eyes wide and on her face, she wore a very wicked smile.

He was a vampire!

That explained a lot. She knew when she saw Victor the draw was magnetic, the trust factor high. Karen edged closer to him and let one of her slender fingers run the length of one of his fangs. She heard Victor growl, it was soft and low and it vibrated deliciously through her. Her hand then came up to caress his face, his skin now taunt across his cheekbones, his eyes the color of blood.

How she loved vampires!

Karen could only see the beauty of the creature before her and she felt no fear. She’d never been so hot in all her life. Karen let her hand slowly drop away from him and she continued to slowly back away. She finally wasn’t afraid of discovery. She’d show him now her other self.

“Vampire, do you know what I am?" she said, running her hands seductively over her body. She watched his crimson eyes stare intently on her, waiting to see what she had to unveil.

Releasing her mane of dark curls, she let them fall around her face and shoulders, giving him a glimpse of the wildness within her. The awesome tingling sensation rippled through her body, informing her shifting was about to begin. Then she felt it, the heat, the gripping onset of pain. The renting of fabric, a heavy purr, and she sprawled her sleek feline body across the bed. Karen had completely transformed to her other self a beautiful sleek black panther. For the first time in her life she shifted and wasn’t afraid to.

She gazed at Victor’s crimson eyes.

“Magnificent,” he said, under his breath. He crawled onto the bed with her his hands coming to her head. “Beautiful,” he murmured as he petted the sleek black fur. “It explains your scent, at first it confused me then I realized there was more to you than met the eye. You’re a thing of beauty. How easily you change, to observe you is inspiring, your control is flawless. Karen I crave the woman you are, and harbor no fear of what you can become. But tonight I want to make love to the human, not the feline that my love may come in time. Thank you for showing me your sleek black inner beauty. Now be a good girl and change back,” he said.

Karen purred, rolled to her side, closed her eyes, and emptied her mind. She felt her body shifting back. She saw Victor’s eyes intense on her as she lay before him naked and again purring, this time mimicking the large cat that was her other self. Karen always ruined her clothing when she shifted. The seams rented and the material shredded, but tonight she didn’t care.

She ran her hands over her naked body, reassuring herself she’d turned back. Her actions made Victor smile. Karen’s body was on fire and she wanted the vampire on the bed with her to fuck her. She wanted him and her need for him overwhelmed her causing her body to ache.

Karen watched as Victor tore his shirt from his body revealing a masterpiece of male beauty. Before her, he revealed his chest, a mass of muscle, hairless and he sported the best six-pack Karen had ever laid her eyes on. Pale and flawless his smooth skin was cool to her touch. He was the first vampire she’d ever encountered. Karen was aware they existed and knew they were hesitant to show their true nature. Karen believed she also wasn’t alone and there were other creatures like her, not human and not completely Homo sapien, hiding under a human guise.  

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            Ha!  You saw the handcuffs and thought…Michel’s gettin’ into BDSM.  Not today my friends…tomorrow maybe, but that is another day.  Nope, I’m here talking about rule breakers.  You know those people that have the nerve to stand up to the establishment and say, no, it isn’t right, it isn’t fair, I want it my way and I ain’t talkin’ about Whoppers here.

            Alright, some rule breakers end up in handcuffs and if that was the road I’m taking I’d be glad to take the chastisement.  No, I’m going a different route.  The route of bucking the writing establishment.  If you’ve been a fan of The Chrysalis Series I’ve made no bones about the fact that it is a cross-over series.  That being said the series follows Ellie and Oscar through adulthood and into adult issues. 

            From a reader/fan stand point it’s a risk.  I say a calculated others say naive…uninformed…ignorant…blah, blah, blah.  Here’s the deal.  I love my Chrysalis Series, but we can’t stay children forever.  I never wrote the series for eleven and twelve year olds…they have Percy Jackson, Twilight and thousands of other series that are for them.  Chrysalis is for those who legally can drive a car.  Yep, I think that kids in middle school and kids in high school have different interests…I’m weird that way. 

            Bucking the establishment never got anyone anywhere I know…But it’s not like I wrote a book about teens killing each…oh…wait…huh?  Was Suzanne Collins really taking that big of a risk?  It’s not like William Golding ever had any success with Lord of the Flies right?  Okay, so it was different and she got some success from it, but come on it’s not like I took a time honored, never touch tradition and changed it like making something sparkly or any…oh, wait. 

            Here’s the deal, my characters write the stories.  I have as much influence on them as a replacement ref and a seasoned coach.  Sure I can tell him what to do, give him a penalty and everything, but he’s still going to bend and even break the rules if it’s to his advantage.

            I recently got a contract for the third book in the Chrysalis series called Not Even Death.  You’ll get to hear Oscar in parts of it as well as the grown up Ellie.  Written in first person (cuz who does that…oh yeah) they aged and they wanted to share their story with you.  Because although some people wish life would never move past high school, it really does.  The content is going to be more mature, but the characters you’ve become attached to are still there.  Their hearts and souls ready to meet with yours.  Plus who didn’t want to date the bad boy or girl at one point in their life or another?  That’s me…the bad girl of writing who listens to her characters instead of the rule makers and lucky for me I’m with a company that believes in their writers and is willing to take the risk.  What can I say?  I’m a Rebel, but at least I have a cause, giving you a world to escape into and want to return.

            

Not Even Death

In one tragic moment Ellie Jeffreys’ perfect life ended, the devastation of losing the only man she believed she could ever love and their beautiful child, causes the hopeless resignation that life shall never again be worth living.

Bound by a decree from On High the demons who tormented Ellie for years have had to leave the Jeffreys alone, but they grow restless, sensing Ellie's despair and vulnerability. They lust for her...and they are extremely resourceful...

Dr. Luke Page’s inability to save Ellie’s husband and son has him hoping to recover her crumbling mind and show her love does still exist in the world.  Dr. Page feels immense pressure to be her security blanket in the concrete world, but thoroughly healing her presents a challenge that raises questions about his ability as both a physician and a human being.

The sheer strength of Oscar's love and devotion had always fortified a barrier around Ellie, shielding her from the effects of the world's iniquities. Ellie’s depression now leaves her susceptible. 

But Oscar Jeffreys is much closer than Ellie realizes and he determined to not allow anything to stop him from protecting her, not even death.