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.
My cover has arrived from Evernight! This is a fraught moment for me. If you’ve read earlier posts from me you might have caught on that I’m not a fan of the bodice ripping, heavy make up or overtly erotic cover, so waiting for a reveal can be a little tense. What am I going to get, will I hate it, how much will I hate it?
As you can probably imagine, I opened the image with my breath bated and my eyes half shut. I needn’t have bothered! There is so much I like about my new cover. The colours and look follow on in theme from the first book in the series, which I’m thrilled about.
No nail polish, no bright red lipstick! My girl is a warrior, not a beauty queen. I love the tattoo, it’s primitiveness and the blending that makes it look like it belongs on his skin. The models they have used have caught the gritty feel of my characters. The backdrop is perfect, letting the reader know that they’re in for a darker read. I love that it’s obviously a romance and obviously paranormal.
Sour Cherry design and Evernight Publishing. Thank you. I wouldn’t change a thing.
Release day has been set for Sept 12. In anticipation of that here’s a little teaser. Oh and an image, just coz I like it. 🙂
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.
I haven’t done this for a couple of weeks. Life has been a bit frantic with children, dogs, goats and horses. Sometimes I think it’s odd that such a country girl writes such urban stories. Don’t ask me why. Maybe it’s because I can’t imagine my world of monsters staying hidden in less populated areas.
Anyway this one is once again from my WIP.
Something fluttered in Parry stomach. A warning? “How come?”
“His kind, they need to find their Ves’ tacha. She’s like this fated mate or something. Meant to save him from the final fall.” Quinn’s voice was conversational, light and easy as if she wasn’t saying something so frightening. As if her words weren’t making a cold sweat break out over Parry’s skin and her throat close tight in a fisted knot. This wasn’t happening. No way, no how. Abso-fucken-lutely not.
My sixth 8 sentence installment, well nine in this case, but I’m counting the dialogue as one because this snippet needs the last sentence. So, this is from my WIP, very early in the budding relationship between my two main characters. Hope you enjoy.
Just when she was thinking he might be…safe…he reached forward and dipped his finger in the blood and lifted it to his mouth. Her gut rolled when his tongue darted out and he tasted it. His jaw clenched and a subtle shudder ran through his body. Her panic was almost instantaneous and it was all she could do not to take a step away from him. Hell she wanted to run as fast and as far as she could. She forced herself to stand still, to not react to the fear hammering through her body.
“It’s human,” he said.
“Oh.” What was she supposed to say? Thanks for the info, dude, but could have lived without the visuals?
In the world of the Dominion,
which side you’re born
on defines who you are.
The world is not what you think. Beneath the skyscrapers with their glittering windows, the factories and their throngs of mortal workers and the streets of look-alike homes, lurk creatures you refuse to see.
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.
Don’t swallow. He forced himself to let go and spit the mouthful into the bowl he’d used to carry the first aid supplies. His whole body shook with the strain of controlling himself. Over and over he repeated the process. Latch, suck, spit. And then the taste changed, it got deeper, complex. A flavor that was both sweet and savory. Earth and magic and thunderstorms. Her taste, unmuted by revenant poison.
He tried not to, but… A mouthful of her blood slid down his throat and pooled in his belly.