Come over for a cuppa and a read at Lyana’s Place.
Come over for a cuppa and a read at Lyana’s Place.
Come over for a cuppa and a read at Lyana’s Place.
Picking up from within the story-line of ‘Lunacy and the Vampire’, Evie Jayne continues to build on her richly developed fantasy world in ‘Scar Tissue’. Introducing new powerful immortals and mortals Evie expertly navigates the turbulent emotions involved in cross-species relationships and the frustration of fate within a storyline that is consistent and engaging. The female warriors are captivating and oh so very sexy as are their powerful male counterparts. Rife with potent erotic experiences and the determination to overcome evil while battling the potential of evil within, this is a fantasy world that mimics human nature and desire while capturing your attention with a relentless pace. On a philosophical note, I admire Evie Jayne’s ability to weave multiple belief systems into her fantasy world without diminishing any of them. I was hooked from the first paragraph and am left wondering what next for the light Dominion as they battle the age’s long war against the dark Dominion.
I’m not that good at keeping things steady and my life seems to be a bit of a ride the waves experience. Ebbs and lulls, swells and silences abound. So I came up with the idea of doing a Friday posting of a snippet of my writing. This is a new thing to try to get me blogging a bit more regularly. Lets see if it works.
Today I’m going to give you a few sentences from my current WIP. This story is as yet un-named, though the series is called Kith and Kin and is an urban fantasy.
Penny slammed her down, throwing his weight onto her. Her knees hit the boards with a resounding crack and pain stabbed up through her thighs.
“If you want to survive this night, stay fucking still and keep your mouth shut,” he said.
“Who is he?” she said.
Penny’s eyes narrowed and his fingers dug even more painfully into her skin.
“Someone higher up the food chain than you and no one you need to worry about right now.”
“He’s someone,” she said.
Penny shook her. “You’re not fucking listening to me. You have no idea how much danger you’re in.”
“It’s pretty obvious,” she snapped, glaring up at him. Anger crawled around her gut like a rabid dog. Her spine prickled, the animal clawing to get out and savage the big bastards throat.
Come see me over at Carlene’s place
I’m over at Tardis scribbles for a visit today. I don’t usually post about visiting other bloggers sites, but I had so much fun answering Doris’s questions that I thought I’d direct you over there to check it out.
Today I’m taking a wee break from the push on Scar Tissue to welcome back fellow Author Raven McAllan and celebrate her release Double Jackson.
Take it away, Raven.
When I sat down to write this blog, I realized how lucky I am, doing what I love, writing stories. The fact people seem to enjoy them is a bonus, and one I never stop giving thanks for. I couldn’t not write, I feel as if something is missing if I don’t connect with my characters every day, even just for a few minutes. As my long-suffering hubby says, have lap top will travel. (It’s amazing how much you can write on long haul)
Double Jackson, or Jackson for short is one of those stories that hit you, and demand to be told.
I’ve no idea where the idea came from, I just know I woke up one morning and started to write it. It was very definitely character driven, and one of the minor characters, Tina the housekeeper, nagged me all the time I wrote. It was as if she were in the room with me, looking over my shoulder…
Not only does she keep all the characters in the book in their place, she very definitely did it to me as well.
I think it worked.
Jackson Carrick at Tits and Bum Club—gay in more ways than one.
As morning wake up calls go, those damning headlines made for a rude awakening. The renowned actor is a one man guy, thank you very much, so why would a doppelganger set out to discredit him, and more importantly, who is it?
As the mystery unravels and loyalties are tested, Jackson has to rely on his husband, housekeeper, and friends to keep his reputation from swirling down the drain.
Fortunately, Jackson’s husband Collum knows just how to keep his man from worrying. Only one thing to do when you’re stuck inside waiting for news—lots of mind-blowing sex.
(Fizz is Tina’s twin, and Jack’s agent.)
Jack took hold of the phone as if it were a time bomb about to go off. Which, Coll decided it might well be. He stared at Jack, and willed his positive thoughts to be heard as Jack connected the call.
“Hi, Fizz. Hold on, I want to put this on speakerphone so I don’t have to repeat it to Coll.”
“Where are you? No don’t tell me if it’s too much information. Are you at home?” Her voice was loud and tinny in the room. “Do you have today’s paper handy? Is there a clock or three around? Are you decent?” The staccato questions came thick and fast. “Jack?”
Coll’s eyes widened and he shook his head at his lover’s silent question. He had no idea what the inquisition was all about.
“Kitchen? With iPad and phone?” Jack could be as brusque as the next person when it was warranted. “Naked.”
“That’ll do.” Fizz’s voice ebbed and flowed as the signal changed strength. “Well, not the naked bit. Clothed. Plus a paper or two and remember, decently dressed. Do it now and send it to me please. I’ll be with you as soon as I can. About ten minutes, I reckon.” The phone went dead.
Jack looked at Coll, who raised one eyebrow.
“Oh, fuck. Her ten is five. I don’t think she means in our birthday suits.” Jack pinched Coll’s left nipple and rolled of the bed to land on his feet.
“Bastard. I wish I was that agile.” Coll sat up, stretched and then stood up slowly.
“Ha. If you had to do the stuff I do in this series you’d be limber as well. Problem is at the end I’ll be arthritic and stiff as an excited cock everywhere, not just in my dick.” He jogged into the bathroom, and with a wry grin, Coll followed him.
Jack had the shower on full blast. As Coll watched he spun round under the water three times and got out.
“Over to you. I’ll go hunt up iPads and stuff.” Jack rubbed his hands over his hair and snagged a towel as he moved swiftly away.
“Cover up your jiggles then,” Coll called after him. “No cock rock on display.”
A whistle was his reply.
Coll wasn’t under the water much longer than it took to wash any traces of sex from his body, and soak his sweat-slicked hair. He flicked a towel across his body in the hope some water would be caught and absorbed and then pulled on a clean t-shirt before he ignored boxers, and thrust his damp legs into linen trousers and deck shoes. The material of the trousers chafed his skin and he wriggled uncomfortably. Maybe he should have donned underwear after all. The last thing he wanted was a rash on his cock from the nylon thread they used in his clothes.
It was too late. He heard the deep-throated rumble of a powerful motorbike and guessed Fizz had arrived.
Coll took the stairs two at a time. He arrived in the hall as the knocker crashed onto the wood with such force he wouldn’t have been surprised to see it emerge through the panel and an attached hand still thumping away.
He pulled the door open and Fizz almost fell into the foyer.
“Have you taken that picture yet?” she demanded in a breathless voice as she took off her helmet and put it on top of an old-fashioned hat stand.
“Good afternoon, Fizz. Not yet, sorry. How are you, Coll? I’m fine, thank you, Fizz, how are you?” Coll said sarcastically. “Would you like to take a breath before or after you hit me over the head for my tardiness?” The look he received would wither the hardest cock.
“Funny, ha, ha. I need that photo like an hour ago.”
“Difficult.” Jack had entered the hall unnoticed. “We didn’t know you wanted it, and it would have been a TMI photo.”
Fizz made a noise like a particularly upset wildcat. Jack sniggered. “Knickers in a twist, Fizz?”
“No, but your nuts will be in a nutcracker before you can say walnut or pecan if we don’t get stuff sorted out pretty damned quick. Let me take a damned photo.” She snapped the words irritably. “Where?”
“Kitchen. I was setting it up.”
“I don’t want a set up,” Fizz followed Jack into the kitchen, and Coll followed the two if them.
If he was a ladies’ man, then Fizz’s ass would be everything you could ask for. Not for the first time he wondered why she was single with no guy—or woman in sight.
Coll made a beeline for the coffee pot. “Coffee?”
“After.” Fizz didn’t look up from her phone. “Okay, it’s still okay. Get sorted. No, not like that. Who lines up three clocks and props a newspaper up for a selfie for no reason? I want natural.”
“If we’d known an hour ago you could have had au naturel.”
If you enjoyed the teaser and want to read more, Here’s the buy links
If you want to check out my and my other books, please pop over to
www.ravenmcallan.com where you’ll find all you need
Thanks for reading,
Love R x
The safe suburban life you lead is a lie. Your myths and nightmares are the truth. From the shadows and hidden places we watch you, stalk you, feed on you…
Caden James is a rare subspecies of vampire. That’s bad enough, but it’s only going to get worse. The 2nd maturation is almost upon him, when he will fall into the Dark Dominion. Unless he can find the female fated to save his soul. Sounds simple, find her and stop his descent into horror.
Except with Parry O’Morrigan, nothing is simple.
Parry’s past has scarred her physically and psychologically, leaving her with a bone deep fear of vampires. Until she crosses the path of a fanged warrior who sets her blood on fire.
Thrown together, the pair track the creator of a new breed of zombie. As the hunt heats up, so does the passion between them. Can Parry overcome her past? Even if she can, Cade’s fate may yet destroy the only female he’s ever cared about.
Lust and aggression shifted under his skin. He needed to get her under him, to mark her and make her his. Her near death at the hands of the revenant had stripped away much of the control. Bloodlust roiled through him.
He fought to keep from baring his throbbing fangs at her. He had to be sane about this. His nature could not be the leader in this confrontation.
“You’re hurt,” he said and forced himself to take a step back from her, and then another. All he wanted was to close the gap between them. Her chin jerked in acknowledgment, but she lifted one black brow in a blasé arch.
He shifted forward, unable to stop himself, the pull towards her magnetic. Her blade rose, pointed straight at his throat. He was fully aware that with a flick of that fine boned wrist could part his head from his neck. The thought made him smile. Wild sidhe, dangerous female.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.
Memories of her body pushed hard against his in that alley three weeks ago flickered in his mind. The feeling of her small muscular back against his chest, her ass pressed into the ache between his thighs. He growled low in his chest.
“You sure?” she said.
With infinite care he lowered his own sword. When the bloodstained tip scraped on the ground he released the handle. It clattered on the gravel with a metallic ring. Sometimes actions were better than words.
“What else?” she said. He shuffled his left foot forward and let her see the hilt of the dagger in his boot sheath.
“Get rid of it.”
He bent slowly, feeling her gaze follow his movement. After tossing the blade at her feet he stood up.
“What else?” she repeated.
He had to smile, even though he knew it exposed his fangs to her. Not like she wasn’t fully aware of what he was anyway. Of course she knew he wouldn’t be lightly armed. Hell, her sisters had taught the Abstainer soldiers.
He pulled his coat back from his shoulders, exposing the harnesses that were strapped to his chest, hips and thigh. He unsheathed blade after blade and tossed them at her feet like a deadly offering. Apt, his bloodstained hands were all he had to give her. No gentleness, no reverence or refinement. Those things weren’t in him.
He was a curse, murder on two legs, death with a vampiric heartbeat. He didn’t deserve her, but he would have her anyway. He needed her to save what little was left of his soul.
As he laid the last blade at her feet she nodded, but one of her twin swords stayed pointed in his direction. Cade fought the urge to knock it away and cross the ground between them. Not the right time for that. He’d fucked it up the first time he’d met her, manhandling her body as if he had the right. Then losing it on the revenant tonight. Could he have done anything to make it any clearer what he was?
“I remember you, Abstainer,” she said.
His lips curled. Good, that was good.
My tenth installment in Weekend Warriors. That’s something to celebrate.
This little snippet is from my about to be released novel, Scar Tissue.
Their glazes met, luminosity flashing in his. He raised the mug
to his mouth and sipped, never taking his demanding stare off her.
Parry didn’t need the blood scent to tell her exactly what he drank.
Was he trying to creep her out? No, he was challenging her with his
hard gaze and the arrogant tilt of his stubble shadowed jaw. He
wanted her fully aware of what he was. As if she could ever forget
that. Or what it had felt like when the savage had kissed her that night
in the alley.
If you like what you read pop over and hit the buy now. http://www.evernightpublishing.com/scar-tissue-by-evie-jayne/
Book 1 in this series is currently on pre-release sale. Pop on over and have a look. http://www.evernightpublishing.com/lunacy-and-the-vampire-by-evie-jayne/
Jaysus. Just went to check on my Amazon sales rank and jumped from 867,210 up to 120,867 over night. If any of you bought my book from Amazon here’s a little bit of hot to say “thank you so much.”