PHANTASM FRIDAY

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

One year ends and another begins. I hope 2011 is a prosperous, healthy, happy and dream making year for all of you!

Be safe and please don't drink and drive! Call a taxi!

Huggles,
Gracen

TWILIGHT THURSDAY

The Moonlighters Welcome Jess Anastasi

Please welcome Jess Anastasi into the Moonlight. Jess is the author of Sanctuary, which was recently released by Noble Romance Publishing. Jess also has another book, Dead Reality, coming out on the 10th of January 2011.

Now, it's time to create a little mayhem and get to the good stuff by revealing all of Jess's deepest darkest secrets in the moonlight. LOL Yeah, you wish! ;-D Grab your favorite wicked drink, sink your teeth into something decadent, sit back, relax and enjoy getting to know Jess Anastasi.


MLM: The holidays are fast approaching and things always seem to get busier during this time of year. Do you have a relaxing technique that helps you de-stress? If so, please share, because this is advice we all need!

JESS: My relaxing technique is to do my Christmas shopping in June, so I don't have to go anywhere near the shops at this time of year – people out there are crazy! This plan usually serves me well, except this year, the depart
ment store where I'd put all my Christmas pressies on layby had lost half of it when I went to pick it up last week. What have I been paying for in the last 6 months? That's what I want to know! Anyway, so this year it didn't work out so well because I had to go re-shopping for the items that were misplaced.


MLM: Not everyone celebrates Christmas, but most of us still have traditions we participate in, such as attending holiday parties, decorating your house, baking cookies, etc. What is your favorite holiday tradition?

JESS: We always put the Christmas tree up on the 1st of December. But other than that, my family doesn't have any traditions as such. I suppose it's more about all being together, since our lives are so busy these days. That’s probably what I love most about the holidays. It's like a 'time out' from real life. There's nothing to worry about except spending time with the family, exchanging gifts and enjoying good food.


MLM: In the south, holidays are centered around food, with huge meals and lots of baked sweets. Do you have a favorite holiday recipe you'd like to share with us? If not, how about an all-year-round favorite recipe?

JESS: We tend to cook up a roast pork (mmm, crackle…) with veggies - nothing very exciting. But, we do make up a big bowl of fruit punch that only gets made at Christmas. Except, it's my mum's recipe and I'm not a hundred per cent sure what goes in it, LOL!
My favorite all-year-round recipe is chicken, spinach and fetta pie. It's simple and very tasty. And, I'm sorry, but I only have Australian measurements:
500gm chicken (I usually use breast, but you could use thigh or something else if you want)
200gm Greek fetta (make sure its Greek fetta, other types tend to be too salty)
1-2 bunches of spinach.

Chop the chicken into bite-sized pieces and pan fry until cooked and starting to brown.
Wash spinach and throw into pan with chicken (I know this sounds odd, but it really is the best way to cook it. If you boil the spinach first, it tends to make for watery pie.)
Cook on low heat until spinach has wilted.
Turn heat off and crumble fetta into chicken and spinach mixture. Mix only a little until fetta is combined. If you mix it too much, the fetta will melt. It's ok if this happens, but I like to keep my fetta a bit chunky. You don't have to use all of the fetta, it's a matter of taste. Also, it can be nice to use half fetta, half ricotta, to give it a slightly different taste.
Line a pie dish with pastry. I use puff pastry, ready to use from the supermarket. But feel free to make your own if you're that good in the kitchen, I can only assume it would make it that much nicer.

Cook in a medium-heat oven until the pastry has turned golden brown and then serve with salad or veggies!



MLM: Have you ever made your own holiday presents and/or decorations? If so, what were they? Were they successes or failures? Did you have fun while making them?

JESS: One year I had a go at making hampers. I bought some soda glasses, colorful soda spoons a few lollies and other treats – turned out it wasn't as much fun putting them together as I'd thought and no one seemed very excited over them, so I never bothered doing them again!


MLM: If "Santa Claus" could bring you any gift you wanted, what would be your ultimate gift? (Please refrain from saying "money" because who doesn't want more of that!)

JESS: Can I say an agent? My one biggest aspiration is to get an agent. I'm hoping 2011 will be the year. If I had to pick something for myself, then I'd probably pass the choice onto my kids – and I'm sure they'd say something along the lines of 'a Barbie!' So, Santa, Barbie dolls all 'round!


MLM: Odd question, but my 9 year old thinks Rudolph and the reindeers "guiding Santa's sleigh" have GPS navigation. So, if you could give Santa and his sleigh any one modern technology, what would it be and why?

JESS: Shock absorbers? I imagine the take off and landing must be a bit rough.



MLM: Now, let’s get to your writing, Jess… what genre do you write and what is the draw for you?

JESS: I've dabbled in just about all sub-genres of romance. At the moment, I'm working on a series of sci-fi romances for Noble. Sanctuary is the first, and hopefully the second, Severance, will be coming out early in the New Year. I've also got a stand-alone romantic suspense coming out on the 10th of January. My WIP is another stand-alone rom sus, and then I'll start writing the third book in the Sanctuary series. I have a different sci-fi romance I'm trying to lure an agent with at the moment.

I think what I love about writing sci-fi is the ultimate possibilities – the future can be anything you want it to be! I feel like there aren't as many restrictions on writing sci-fi. As long as I've got a plausible way of explaining it, I can make just about anything happen.


MLM: If you could describe your writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

JESS: I find it hard to analyze my own writing! I suppose when it comes down to it, I want to tell a good story that will impact on people (doesn't every author?). The idea behind Sanctuary is a bit different, it's about a war between angels and demons, but its set 500 years in the future and everyone's flying around in spaceships. Sounds a bit silly when you look at it like that. So I'd love people to read the Sanctuary series and just think 'wow' because it is a little different, and for them to see that somehow, the idea does work.


MLM: With the current movement to encourage people to give books as gifts, what, in your opinion, makes your story unique? What makes it stand out among all of the other books out there?

JESS: Like I was just saying, I don't know that there are any other series out there at the moment that has angels and demons in a sci-fi setting, so it does make it a little bit unique in that sense. Otherwise, I really want people to get on board with the sci-fi romance movement. Paranormal romances have been big for a few years now, and I think the market is ready to move more into the sci-fi side of things. I've loved sci-fi romances (like those by Linnea Sinclair) for many years now, but we need some more great authors out there to give the genre some more oomph! There really is something great about sci-fi romance that other romances don't have.


MLM: Do you prefer throwing snowballs or serving hot cocoa? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

JESS: I prefer serving cocoa, but I actually think my writing loves throwing snowballs! My characters tend to go and do things on me I don’t see coming. When I was writing Severance, something was revealed about the heroine, Nakita, that I NEVER saw coming until it happened. I should have realized, because it made too much sense.

And yes, I do talk about my characters as if they're real, independent people. I'm serious when I tell you I have no control over them!


MLM: If you could give any of your characters a holiday gift, which character would it be and what would you give them? Why do they deserve this gift?

JESS: My favorite character at the moment is Rian, he's the captain of a ship called the Imojenna in the sci-fi series I'm trying to get an agent for. If I could give him something, it'd be to be able to see that he needs Elle, and it won't make him weak to admit that. However, Rian is nothing if not stubborn and very emotionally scarred. He's going to have to go through a lot of crap and face some hard truths before he gets his HEA. He does deserve it, though, probably more than any other character I've written.


MLM: Who decides what your characters do, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stuffing the stocking?

JESS: I have NOOOO influence over my story. I suppose you could say my muse is the one holding the reins, but I actually tend to think my characters are in control – all I'm doing is telling a story that's already happened. Or, is happening as I'm telling it. I know it sounds totally nuts, but that's the way I operate.


MLM: What character did you have the most fun creating and why?

JESS: The character I've probably had the most fun with is Bryce in Dead Reality. He could be such a smart-ass when he wanted, but when it came time to man up and do what needed to be done, he didn't hesitate.


MLM: If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why?

JESS: Wow, tough one! Probably Archangel Michael from my Sanctuary series. I'd like to meet him to find out what all the fuss is about! I'm getting feedback from readers who are just head-over-heels about him, wanting to know when he's going to get a book. He just keeps taking over every scene he's in! The funny thing is I didn't plan to write his story, because he's kind of apart from everyone else. I'm not promising anything, but if Michael comes across someone and I suddenly realize she's the one, I'll definitely go ahead with it. But I'm not going to force someone on the poor guy!


MLM: Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

JESS: The creepy serial killer in Dead Reality. I don't think anyone would want to meet that guy!


MLM: If you were interviewing yourself, what is the one question you would ask yourself and please give us the answer to that question?

JESS: What are my plans for the future?

World domination! No, not really. I'm going to spend the next 12 to 18 months working my butt off to establish myself with Noble and I'm hoping to have a whole bunch of books available by this time next year. I'm absolutely determined that at some point I will get an agent and a publishing contract with a bigger house, like HarperCollins of Ballantine. So really, I just want to say keep an eye on my webpage and blog, because things will be happening all the time.


MLM: Thanks so much for joining us, Jess! It's been a treat getting to know you better!

Website: www.jessanastasi.com or http://www.jessanastasi.blogspot.com/
Buy Link: https://www.nobleromance.com/ItemDisplay.aspx?i=204
Twitter: @JessAnastasi
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/pages/Jess-Anastasi/129441077081452


BLURB for SANCTUARY:

For four hundred years, angels have been at war with demons while humans fight both, trying to survive. As the conflict destroys world after world, there is a race to terra-form planets for colonization before humankind is wiped out altogether.

Toriane Cresol is part of a team leading the terra-forming charge. On assignment, she stumbles across a scribe and six warrior angels hiding sacred relics. Within a few hours, she comes face to face with A'albiel, an angel sent by Archangel Michael to protect her from the demons, who want to know what she saw.

A'albiel rips Tori from her life and takes her on a flight across the galaxy. Their destination is Sanctuary, a planet protected by ancient pacts, and the only place the demons can't get her. Although hate for angels and demons alike is ingrained deeply within her, Tori can't fight the growing spark of attraction between her and A'albiel. Bit by bit, everything she once thought or believed is eroded away, replaced by the knowledge that if she and A'albiel don't make it to Sanctuary, the fate of the entire universe could be in peril.



EXCERPT for SANCTUARY:

Tori, my office. Now."

The message from Tio came through abruptly. No explanation. No niceties. Nothing but an order. Oh geezus. The angels. Tio must have found out, and now she would have to answer for it because she hadn't gone straight up to report the sighting herself.

She'd just gotten back to her cabin after doing overtime down on X-702. Now, long past dinner, she'd forgone the inevitability of Laranian stew and eaten a couple of protein bars instead. She'd been on her way to shower when Tio's command had come through. Which was probably why when she stepped on the elevator to go up to the administrative center, the two other occupants on the lift stood as far away from her as possible. No doubt, she smelled like a swamp.

Striding into Tio's office, she found Nakita already seated in front of their supervisor's desk.

"Sit down, Tori." Tio ordered as the door slid closed behind her.

She complied, keeping her expression neutral, while her insides quivered, and her pulse fluttered. People had been fired over less than this.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Nakita. I'm giving you one chance to tell me truthfully whether or not you saw anything, anything, in your sector this morning."

She took a deep, silent breath and glanced across at Nakita, knowing her closest friend wouldn't have said anything. It'd been such a dumb idea to keep the revelation quiet in the first place. Why did Nakita put up with her? "Since you obviously already know, there's no point in denying it, is there?"

"How many?" Tio's already tense form tightened up even further, making him look like he was about to explode right out of his uniform.

She shifted position, wishing Tio had something other than the utilitarian, hard plastic seats in his office. But her fidgeting went to waste since her butt and thighs still ached. Of course his chair>/i> looked more than comfortable. Releasing a breath and giving up on the idea of comfort, she related with brief words what she'd seen that morning. Might as well get used to it. Who knew how many times she'd have to repeat the story?

"Did you know about this?" Tio narrowed his gaze on Nakita.

Nakita shrugged and crossed her legs. "Only what Tori told me on the way back to the station. I didn't see any sign of them myself."

Tio's shoulders became even tenser, his knuckles white where his fingers were clasped together on the desk, as if Nakita's unconcerned attitude was tipping him further toward the edge.

"How did you know?" Tori asked, drawing Tio's attention from Nakita.

Tio tapped a few keys on his inset control panel in front of him.

"In the past month, we've had some new technology loaded onto the station, which can detect angels and demons. Some tech-head worked out they have different energy signatures to humans because of their supernatural abilities." A see-through holo-screen came up in the middle of the desk, showing various blobs of color on a scan of the planet's surface. "We're hoping this equipment will be able to prevent us losing anymore planets to the sons of bitches."

"Oh, come now. We're not so bad, are we?"

The voice behind her sent a jolt of surprise through her system. Tori glanced over her shoulder and took a swift breath as she pushed to her feet, away from the chair. She backed up until she bumped into the desk and then skirted around it. Not that she wanted to be any closer to Tio, but he seemed the lesser of two evils when put up against the angel who'd manifested into the room.
Like all angels, he stood over six feet tall, with broad shoulders, a trim waist and totally gorgeous. His black hair was cut short, almost military, while his blue eyes were crystalline in clarity. He wore a loose, dark shirt over dark leather pants, a luxury in this day and age. No doubt about it. If he'd been human, she'd be trying to work out the quickest way to get him naked. So much hotness wasted on scuzbag.

Tio pushed the security alert, causing the angel's lips to curl into a sardonic grin. "Inter-ship security, you really think I can't block that?"

"What do you want?" she demanded. A sickening chill swept through her, far worse than the apprehension she'd felt this morning. He didn't need to respond to her question, because she already knew the answer.

"I want you, Toriane." His sharp, blue gaze settled on her with disconcerting intensity.

For a moment, there was silence, and the chill turned into a full blizzard, numbing her from the inside out, causing fine tremors to spill through her.

"I think you forgot to finish that sentence. Like, I want you to answer some questions, or, I want you to pretend you didn't see anything." She gripped the edge of the desk, thanking geezus it stood between them. Though if he wanted, he could blast it into oblivion or even walk right through the damn thing. Despite that, the solid barrier gave her some measure of feeling protected.

"No, there was nothing else after that. Archangel Michael sent me to get you."

"And you are?" Though why it should matter, she didn't know. There was no way in hell she'd go anywhere with him, even if he'd been sent by God himself.

He made a small inflection, though it wasn't anywhere near polite. "I am A'albiel. And yes, you will come with me."

Tori felt heat bloom along her cheekbones. The bastard had read her mind. It wasn't surprising. An angel couldn't be trusted. And she hoped he got that thought loud and clear.

She crossed her arms, trying to stem some of the nervous quivers as she glared at him. "You can stop with the mind-reading thing right now."

Ignoring her, he turned his gaze to Tio and Nakita. "Leave us."

Both of their faces took on similar blank expressions, and they left the office with stiff, unnatural movements. The door slid shut again with a soft hiss, and then she found herself alone with someone who could smite her where she stood just by blinking.

"The smiting will come later." Dropping into the hard, plastic chair she'd abandoned earlier, he sent her a mocking smile.

Huh. An angel with a sense of humor. She'd never have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes.

For some reason, his sarcastic quip calmed some of her trembling. A sense of composure stole through her by small degrees. Either A'albiel was doing some mind-control thing on her, or her sanity had snapped. Neither prospect seemed agreeable.

"Stop reading my thoughts and tell me what you want."

"You're in danger, Toriane. We know you saw one of our scribe angels on assignment this morning and so do the demons. They've already sent Alastor after you, and if he finds you, it won't be pretty."

A shaft of fear shot through her, causing sweat to break out on her lower back. How could the demons have found out so quickly? "But I don't know anything."

"You know the location." His tone came out flat, devoid of emotion. He didn't seem concerned about any of this. And why would he be? She was probably just another job in a long line of jobs. If he failed, and she was killed, she doubted he'd even flinch, just poof himself off to his next assignment. The thought made anger stir, replacing the fear. He could go to hell. Her life and work was important. People depended on her and her team getting X-702 terra-formed so they had homes, not just rooms on over-crowded space stations.

"So move the damn thing, and then I won't know. Problem solved." Surely he didn't expect her to just go happily along with him?

"It's not as simple as just moving it—"

"Why not?"

Getting angry at an angel probably wasn't the smartest move she could make, but she didn't want to be dragged into the middle of some stupid four-hundred-year-long war she couldn't care less about, even if it was for the good of all people. According to the scuzbags, anyway.

A'albiel sat forward in the seat, clasping his hands together, his gaze hard on her. "Because it is complicated in a way a human cannot understand, and Alastor will still kill you, if only to prove a point."

The way he said human left her with no doubt about his feelings toward her. Less important than a space-roach squashed under his boot.

She straightened, antagonism making her shoulders tight. "Tell me what was in the chest then, and I'll think about complying."

His lips compressed into a thin line. "You're lying. You have no intention of cooperating, and even if you did happen to be telling the truth, I would not allow you that knowledge."

Not allow her the knowledge? Resentment turned into a full blaze of fury. Bastard! Treating her as if she was some sub-par piece of garbage. Did he really think he could deal with people like this? "You're an ass, you know that?"

It was possible she was more surprised than he was after the words slipped out of her mouth. He stood, unfolding from the chair in a slow, measured movement, his huge body somehow managing to take up more space in the office than it did before.

"You will show me some respect, girl." He took a step toward her and the desk no longer felt like any form of protection against six foot-plus of pissed off angel.

"Or what?" she countered. She might as well stick with the idiotic bravado. No doubt, he'd do whatever he pleased with her anyway. "You'll kill me? No need to get your shirt dirty; apparently I can just sit around here and wait for Alastor to do that for you."

An intent gleam lit his blue eyes to bright azure. "Yes, I am going to do whatever I please with you, but I can make it pleasant or it could be disagreeable. The choice is yours."

Time to call his bluff. "How about none of the above?"

Skirting the desk, she walked toward the office door, keeping as far from him as possible in the small space.

"Stop," he commanded.

She got to the sliding panel. He could go to hell before she'd do anything he told her.

"Stop."

Rolling her eyes, she reached for the door's control board since it hadn't opened automatically when she'd approached. Instead, her hand crashed into a solid, male chest.

Shock ricocheted through her, and she jumped back, feeling a strange kind of energy buzz up her arm. Cradling her hand against her chest, she looked up at him looming over her.

"I told you to stop."

He glared at her, an emotion that looked to be confusion on his too-handsome features. But that seemed dumb. Angels didn't feel things like confusion, did they?

"And I told you to go to hell. Or maybe I just thought it. Either way, I'm sure you heard."

The perplexed expression was replaced by one of annoyance, his lips pressing together as his brows lowered. She got a perverse thrill out of irritating him, which was stupid by anyone's standards. Did she have a death wish? It wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination to say he could kill her or banish her somewhere to die a slow death.

The door slid open behind him, and he took her upper-arm in an unyielding grip, hard enough that she'd probably have bruises later. His message was loud and clear—she wouldn't be getting away from him.

Rather than be dragged, she walked with him out into the corridor where Tio and Nakita were waiting, still with identical vacant expressions.

A'albiel glanced at them as he towed her past. "Be on your way." Both of them blinked, as if coming out of a trance.

"What did you do to them?" she demanded, looking back over her shoulder at Nakita's surprised face.

Hauling her along, A'albiel barreled down the hall, sending people scurrying out of his way. Nothing said move like six feet of determined angel. She almost had to run to keep up with him.

"Nothing serious, I just made sure they wouldn't interfere."

Tori opened her mouth to give him another piece of her mind when the ceiling above them exploded into a shower of flames and sparks. She ducked and A'albiel pulled her against his side, sheltering her from the worst of the blast. All solid muscle and heat, it left a strange sensation humming through her again. Must have been an angel thing. They did have all sorts of weirdo powers, after all.

"Geezus, what was that?" The wail of fire alarms sliced through her brain as people rushed past them, evacuating the area.

"Alastor."

BLURB for DEAD REALITY:

FBI Special Agent Ella Waverly is wrapping up one last assignment before heading off on her first holiday in five years. But flip-flops and cocktails are the last thing on her mind when she meets the new team leader, Special Agent Bryce Lain, and finds out her holiday is being scuttled for an undercover assignment.

Agent Lain is gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous that guarantees he’s an arrogant jerk. The news that he’ll be her partner in the dangerous mission is almost enough to make her head explode. Before the day is out, Ella finds herself at Little Palm Island Resort in Florida , masquerading as a contestant on the latest reality TV show – Lord Bachelor. The bachelor in question, a disgraced British peer, is suspected of raping and murdering several women back in London .

As humidity frizzes her hair beyond the help of any type of de-frizzing, smoothing, glossing product, Ella tries to wrangle working against nineteen husband-hungry bimbos, one suspected serial killer and one seriously hot agent who’s trying everything he can to get under her skin.

EXCERPT for DEAD REALITY:

"Ella Waverly, this is Special Agent Bryce Lain, the new team leader," Jim introduced. She automatically held out her hand, which Agent Lain shook in a straightforward manner, giving her a charming smile which all but yelled 'I'm-hot-and-I-know-it', making her civility slip yet another notch.

But then what Jim said sunk in. He was the new team leader they'd been expecting? She would have to work with him on a permanent basis? Worse, she was going to have to answer to him? She'd have to look at that movie-star handsome face and put up with his attitude every day? Her head was quite possibly going to explode from the mere thought of it.

"He wasn't supposed to start until next week, but a situation has come to our attention that we thought we could use him on," Jim continued as she fought to keep her expression neutral. "And I've been meaning to talk to you all day. I understand you're taking a few weeks off. Going to Florida, the La Playa Beach Resort?"

Her shoulders tensed, since her boss's interest in her holiday could only be leading to one thing. They were going to tell her she couldn't go, or needed her to postpone. There'd be some dire situation pertaining to national security they just couldn't resolve without her.

"Sir—" she began, trying to come up with a really good reason fast as to why they could put someone else on it. She didn't want to hear the details, because as soon as she did, her interest would be piqued and her goddamn sense of duty would over-ride her sense of self preservation. Self preservation meant holding onto her sanity by taking this holiday and not working with Mr. Intense until she'd had a few weeks to chill out.

Jim steam-rolled right over her. "We've made a slight adjustment to your reservations. You're going on our time, undercover. Don't worry; we'll still let you have your holiday after this situation is taken care of."

"Sir, I really think—"

Jim took a folder out of his briefcase and laid it open on the hood of the car. "You and Agent Lain here will be going to Little Palm Island Resort. There's a bachelor-type reality TV show being filmed there at the moment in which we've organized for you to participate."

Her brain stopped and snagged on the first part of Jim's announcement. You and Agent Lain. Of course, she'd guessed it was coming, but it still hit her hard. She'd been teamed up with a guy she didn't even know to go on an undercover assignment? Bad enough that on first impressions Agent Lain seemed so arrogant his ego would probably need it's own seat on the plane, but for all she knew, he could be a total maverick to top it all off. Then her mind ran over the rest of the statement. She would be participating in a reality TV show. Just what in the hell sort of messed up assignment was this?

Jim ran through the remaining particulars and then handed over the folder, plane tickets, and resort reservation details.

"Get back to the hotel and pack, Waverly. You've got a flight to catch. And I've got a meeting I was supposed to be at an hour ago." Jim nodded, giving a curt good-bye and then walking off.

"Let's go, Agent Waverly, I don't want to miss our flight."

She closed her eyes for a brief moment before turning to Lain. When had this day gone from run-of-the-mill cult take-down to Twilight Zone? Did that conversation actually just happen? Had her long-awaited holiday really been scuttled for an undercover assignment with Mr. Intense?

"Agent Waverly?"

Releasing a breath and hoping some of the stress would go with it, she turned and opened her eyes to see Agent Lain standing next to an old, dark blue car almost right where her rental car had been parked a few minutes ago.

"Where did my rental go?" Why did she ask when she could already guess the answer? Which if she thought about too closely would only add to the tension bunching up her shoulders and making her neck ache.

"One of the other agents took care of it. We don't have time to mess around."

"And you expect me to go anywhere with you… in that?"

Agent Lain gave a half smile, a dimple appearing in his cheek, which made her fume like sooty exhaust on an old car. He would have to have dimples. And her heart had not fluttered at the sight. No, more like she'd started having palpitations from bottling up all the pressure. Why couldn't he have a funny shaped mole or wart? Something to flaw his damned gorgeous face.

Standing next to him made her more aware of her current sweat and dust covered condition. Not that she could be considered anything beyond average when she wasn't sweaty and dirty. Her career had always meant more to her than looks. So she refused to start feeling inadequate about anything now, especially in front of Lain.

"By that I assume you're talking about my 1967 Pontiac GTO. There's absolutely nothing bad you can say about my baby."

His baby? Typical.

She sighed, approaching the passenger side where he held the door open. "Let's go then, the quicker we get this done, the sooner I can get away from you."

Agent Lain shut the door after she slid into the bucket seat and then he jogged around to the driver side.

"You mean 'get away from work'," he said as the car started with a roar, the revs from the engine vibrating right up from the ground and through her seat. A moment later the audio system kicked in and Metallica came blasting out near to deafening.

"No, I meant get away from you." She flipped open the folder Jim had given her, prepared to ignore Bryce Lain for the entire trip and duration of the assignment.

From corner of her eye, she saw Bryce smiling, as if he found her amusing. It went a little way to making up for the arrogance, but not much. Some of her discord went up in a puff of smoke as those dimples appeared again.

Hell. If only he wasn't so damn gorgeous.

**Disclaimer - This is not the final draft of Dead Reality, therefore, there may be some slight changes by the time this book goes to print. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Wistful Wednesday

In With the New

It's really hard to believe that we are just days away from the start of a new year. But I am trying to take a positive view of this, starting with how I worded that sentence. I could easily have written "the end of the year," but that has some negative aspects to it and I want to send a more positive message. And what could be more positive than new beginnings?

I used to dread this time of year because it's a time when you take stock of the things you did - or didn't do - in the previous twelve months and focus all of your attention on the things you want to accomplish in the coming year. That's a lot of pressure. What if you didn't do what you set out to do the previous year? Does that make you a failure? Worse, what if you did - how do you top that in the new year? And whose great idea was it to make New Year's Resolutions anyway? We are just setting ourselves up for failure because we often choose goals that are grander than our capacity to meet them. Yeah, what's not to love about that?

Well, a few years back, I made my final resolution and I'm happy to say that I've kept it every year since. That resolution is...to not make a resolution. Why say I'm going to do something that I'll only abandon six weeks into the new year because I set my standards way too high? Why start the new year off with a failure? I'd rather make realistic, attainable goals. So that's what I've been doing for the past five years or so. Setting out New Year's Goals for myself. The goals may be altered or postponed, according to circumstance, but never truly abandoned. Why? Because I don't put pressure on myself to achieve them like people tend to do with resolutions. Drop 40 pounds by bikini season? But there's still that big party on New Year's Eve, then the Super Bowl - what if my team makes it in, got to have a snack fest. And then there's Valentine's Day - chocolate! - St.Patrick's Day - love that corned beef - and Easter, all that ham and the pea soup that follows and, oh my gosh, I couldn't possibly start a diet until...May. Think I can drop 40 pounds in a month? Oh, why bother? June is the beginning of barbecue season, then there's the big 4th of July feast, and the next thing you know, it's Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas and you're making a resolution you're not going to keep for a new year you're beginning to dread because you didn't accomplish anything the previous year!

So that's why I don't make resolutions anymore. Are you with me? Let's start a revolution - the No Resolutions for the New Year Revolution! Let's start by ringing in the new year with no added pressure on ourselves - just enjoy it. Enjoy the people you're spending it with, remember the people you wish you were still able to spend it with, and be grateful you're still here to see another year ticked off the calendar of life.

Wishing you the very best in the new year, Margay

TANTALIZING TUESDAY

Thinking like Rosella Cartwright

The writing and editing process for Fallen from Disgrace really took me out of my comfort zone. Not only was this my first category romance, but for once, I didn't have bazillions of characters to keep track of, leaving me free to entirely explore one, namely my protagonist, Rosella Cartwright. Getting inside the head of a murderous strategic genius was certainly an experience, and it's scary to admit just how much I started to think like her in everyday life. Since not everything made it from the outline to the final draft, I thought I'd share with the readers a couple of Rosella-esque hacks for life that wouldn't fit plotwise. Now, I won't be explaining the subtle mechanics of how to keep an alibi straight or enumerating the poisonous properties of seemingly harmless household plants (and if I didn't tell you otherwise, you might believe I actually knew something about those things!) But for anyone looking to make mind games and chessmastery a part of your everyday life, here's a few things to try at home…under close adult supervision, of course!

This first one is bizarre, but it's an effective means of telling who your friends are. When you first show up somewhere--a new class or club, for instance, or a social event--feign a foreign accent. If you're slightly harder to understand then everyone around you, it will polarize the surrounding crowd. Those who like you for you will find the accent endearing, while suck-ups and opportunists will tend not to bother with you, annoyed with the inconvenience. (Let it be noted that I do not endorse the use of this technique in the workplace or in any situation where a lot is at stake.)

Next: how to get free money.

Well, not exactly. I'm no proponent of swindling the masses, and, as such, won't give instructions on how to do it, but if you're collecting for a worthy cause and would like to speed up the donations coming your way, here's how the professionals do it. Load your jar with some cash beforehand. People are more prone to donate if they think "everybody's doing it". Again, this should not be exploited for free cash. Just because my heroine almost ended up doing it doesn't mean you should.

To wrap it up with a bit of humor, here's a true account of a mind-game that didn't work out according to plan. When I took first-year psychology, my teacher told the class about this friend of his who tried to classically condition his girlfriend. He planned out his route so that when he drove her to dinner and back, he would have to take a lot of right turns. He took each turn sharply, throwing her towards the driver's seat, and as centripetal force propelled her towards him, he gave her compliments in the hope that she would associate the positive emotions induced by compliments with physical proximity to him. By the end of the car ride, all he managed to accomplish was making her sick.

Buy link: https://www.nobleromance.com/ItemDisplay.aspx?i=201
Author website: www.mindymackay.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Mindy-MacKay/127228420656362

PHANTASM FRIDAY

I know everyone is busy today with the holidays, so I won't keep you long. I received my first round of edits today on Christmas Eve! YAY! But that's not what my post is about...

This question is something I've been thinking a lot about lately. Do you as a reader prefer to read longer length novels (say 60K-100K words) or shorter length novels (anything under 60K)? I prefer the longer novels so I can really get to know the characters and if there's a sequel to them, even better! Sometimes I like the shorter length novels because it gives me something to read quickly and then I can get back to my own writing.

What about you? What type of novels do you prefer?

Thanks so much to all of our readers! You guys are what make this blog worth all the effort!

Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! And any other saying I've forgotten!

~huggles
Gracen

TWILIGHT THURSDAY

The Moonlighters Welcome Lydia Nyx

Please welcome Lydia Nyx into the Moonlight. Lydia Nyx is the author of Fire in the Desert which was recently released by Noble Romance Publishing. Other works written by Lydia Nyx are Merger and The Game in Spain, also from Noble Romance, and Impasto and Le Ankou, both from Torquere Press.

Now, it's time to create a little mayhem and get to the good stuff by revealing all of Lydia Nyx's deepest darkest secrets in the moonlight. LOL Yeah, you wish! ;-D Grab your favorite wicked drink, sink your teeth into something decadent, sit back, relax and enjoy getting to know Lydia Nyx.


MLM: The holidays are fast approaching and things always seem to get busier during this time of year. Do you have a relaxing technique that helps you de-stress? If so, please share, because this is advice we all need!

LYDIA: My stress around the holidays comes from my 'day job' (or in my case, night job). I'm a waitress in a popular upscale restaurant and December is always our busiest month: lots of Christmas parties! I love my job and getting to hang out with all the festive people around this time of year; however, we also have bands five nights a week and it's always a party, so my way to de-stress is the opposite of everyone else's—I DON'T party! There's nothing better to me than a night not on the town. New Year's Eve is the final hurrah and it's always such a relief when it's over, knowing things will go back to normal after one last, huge party. Customers always say to me, "this must be the funnest place to work!" I tell them it can be fun, but you only think a constant party atmosphere is fun because you don't work here!


MLM: Not everyone celebrates Christmas, but most of us still have traditions we participate in, such as attending holiday parties, decorating your house, baking cookies, etc. What is your favorite holiday tradition?

LYDIA: My mother was a big decorator—she would put garland and tinsel on anything that would hold still. I ended up being the same way, decorating anything not alive (and sometimes alive—oh the poor cats), but I only did this while my son was growing up. Now that he's an adult, I don't decorate at all and I'm not much of a holiday person. Not to say I don't enjoy other's decorations or the way they decorate the streets around here: I quite do!


MLM: In the south, holidays are centered around food, with huge meals and lots of baked sweets. Do you have a favorite holiday recipe you'd like to share with us? If not, how about an all-year-round favorite recipe?

LYDIA: Not a holiday recipe, but a friend once taught me how to make a Diet Coke cake and it's marvelous. It's quite simple: you need a box of chocolate cake mix, a 12 oz. can of Diet Coke, fat free Jello instant pudding, and fat free Cool Whip. Instead of making the cake according to the directions on the box, simply put the Diet Coke in the cake mix and bake. For the frosting, mix up the pudding (use skim milk), mix with the Cool Whip, and frost! It tastes incredible and it's very low fat and calories!


MLM: Oh, my, that's sounds wonderful and so easy to make with my kids! Have you ever made your own holiday presents and/or decorations? If so, what were they? Were they successes or failures? Did you have fun while making them?

LYDIA: I am not a crafty person at all, trust me! Everything is going to look much better if I just buy it at the store.


MLM: If "Santa Claus" could bring you any gift you wanted, what would be your ultimate gift? (Please refrain from saying "money" because who doesn't want more of that!)

LYDIA: Happiness, fulfillment, and (even though it's bending the rule a bit) financial security for all the people I love and care about.


MLM: Odd question, but my 9 year old thinks Rudolph and the reindeers "guiding Santa's sleigh" have GPS navigation. So, if you could give Santa and his sleigh any one modern technology, what would it be and why?

LYDIA: Laser beams! Then if he ended up in an area with a lot of snow (like here) and the roofs were covered, he could just melt it right off!


MLM: Fantastic gift! Now, let’s get to your writing, Lydia Nyx, what genre do you write and what is the draw for you?

LYDIA: I write male/male romance and erotica. I've yet to make a clear 'niche' for myself in that genre, but I'm starting to work my way toward being a rather rare species: I want to be an erotic horror author. I've always been attracted to horror novels and darker themes like gothic, noir, urban fantasy, and paranormal. My story 'Le Ankou' with Torquere Press is historical horror and I've just had a story accepted by Freaky Fountain Press titled 'Maleficent' which will be out in the new year and is erotic horror/noir. I like the darkness! Since I write male/male, I'll be in a niche within a niche. I've always enjoyed writing male/male over straight romance; it just appeals to me more.


MLM: If you could describe your writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

LYDIA: Differently twisted—it's the motto I use on my website. I adopted it because while my work can be considered 'twisted,' it also has many unusual elements coming together to—hopefully—make it interesting. Like I said above, if I'm writing horror, and making it erotic, and it's male/male—you've got a pretty differently twisted product there!


MLM: With the current movement to encourage people to give books as gifts, what, in your opinion, makes your story unique? What makes it stand out among all of the other books out there?

LYDIA: Continuing the theme above, I would say it's the blend of different elements. I may attract some readers just curious as to how I make everything work together!


MLM: Do you prefer throwing snowballs or serving hot cocoa? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

LYDIA: Definitely serving cocoa—I am not an outdoors person and I hate the cold! This shows in some of my characters, but oddly enough, I do write a lot of 'outdoorsy' elements. That's what research is for. 'The wild' is pretty to look at, but I don't want to be out in it!


MLM: If you could give any of your characters a holiday gift, which character would it be and what would you give them? Why do they deserve this gift?

LYDIA: I would give Keegan Richards from 'Fire in the Desert' a novel of his own, so he'll stop talking about how much he should have one! He really is interesting and he does deserve some spotlight time I suppose…


MLM: Who decides what your characters do, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stuffing the stocking?

LYDIA: I try to tell my characters what to do, and then they frolic about and do whatever they please, like a group of unruly preschoolers. I try to make just a general outline when I'm planning a story, because I know the muse will come along and fill in most of the details as I go—saves me a lot of wasted effort thinking I know what I'm doing!


MLM: What character did you have the most fun creating and why?

LYDIA: In my upcoming novel from Torquere Press, 'From Morocco to Paris,' one of the lead characters is a gregarious, saucy, infuriating man named Davey Alexander. He's everything I wish I could be: outgoing, confident, owns himself, and knows what he wants at all times. He was so much fun to write, especially since the other leading man was so opposite him they achieved sublime comedic interaction. I usually have two types of characters: ones I want to be when I grow up, and ones I want to grow out of being.


MLM: If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why?

LYDIA: I have a gay urban fantasy I'm shopping around at the moment, entitled 'Black Shore of the White City,' and one of the characters, Sam, I would love to meet if he were real. He's fierce and over-the-top and if he walked into a room he would probably knock you over with his very presence.


MLM: Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

LYDIA: Jordan Maleficent from my upcoming story 'Maleficent' with Freaky Fountain Press. He's a nightmare and if you meet him, you'll never be sane again.


MLM: If you were interviewing yourself, what is the one question you would ask yourself and please give us the answer to that question?

LYDIA:
Q: If you weren't a writer, what would you be?

A: An artist. I can't imagine life without creativity.


MLM: Thanks so much for joining us, Lydia Nyx! It's been a treat getting to know you better!

Website: http://www.lydianyx.com
Buy Link: https://www.nobleromance.com/ItemDisplay.aspx?i=175

Any other links/sites you wish to offer readers so they can find you on the world wide web, such as buy links for other books, Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, etc.

Twitter: http://twitter.com/lydianyx
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/people/Lydia-Nyx/100001226228308
My currently published works: http://www.lydianyx.com/?page_id=48





BLURB:

Garrett Thomas is one of the world’s leading cryptozoologists. When he gets a tip a dragon—the holy grail of his field—has been spotted in the Sahara desert, he jumps at the chance to locate and document this elusive creature. As further incentive, his old college friend—and lover—Keegan Richards is currently on an archeological dig in Egypt.

Keegan possesses a powerful supernatural ability called the Mystic. When Garrett sees his old flame after a year of separation, he finds not only has Keegan’s power increased so he has full command of the element of fire but he’s grown a thousand times more beautiful and exotic. After Garrett has a strange and erotic dream about him, Keegan inexplicably grows cold and tries to send Garrett home with his mission unfulfilled. Garrett stays in Egypt, however, and when he finally enters the dragon’s lair, he finds what he’s looking for—but not the way he expected.


EXCERPT:

Two weeks before venturing to the desert, Garrett received an email from a colleague who told him a group of nomads saw what they claimed to be a dragon in the Egyptian Sahara. Garrett, one of the world’s leading cryptozoologists—a title meaning little, according to his father—jumped at the opportunity to investigate such a claim. No known lizard-like creatures in deserts grew to the size described, so even if the animal wasn’t a dragon it was certainly a new species. In a magnificent coincidence, he received a letter from Keegan a week before the email saying he was on his way to Egypt. Garrett hadn’t seen him in nearly a year and hoped he could contact him when he arrived in Cairo. Contact him he did, and Keegan agreed to lead him into the desert with a band of nomads who had taken him on as a sort of shaman. Garrett was ecstatic at the news. His own adventures with strange creatures paled in comparison to Keegan’s tales of the world—though, the strangest creature Garrett ever met, really, was Keegan.

By evening, Keegan had bathed, eaten, and spoken with the people, who’d gathered around him like children around a storyteller. As Garrett sorted through his pack—carefully examined for scorpions beforehand—in the tent he and Keegan shared, Keegan entered. Garrett wore a sweatshirt and jeans, as night in the desert could get very cold. Keegan seemed unaffected by the temperature. He wore linen pants, a pair of sandals, and nothing else. Garrett wondered if his power kept him warm.

“Cold?” Keegan asked with a smirk. He knelt by his own pack, his back to Garrett. A tattoo crawled down his spine, starting somewhere beneath his long, sun-bleached hair and extending downward to the top of his pants, the work exquisitely intricate, an interwoven design of many colors. A torch outside the tent flap cast flickering light on Keegan’s skin, making the colors shine iridescent. The lines moved with the subtle flexing of Keegan’s muscles.

“That’s new,” Garrett said.

Keegan looked over his shoulder. “Huh? Oh, my back?” He looked away. “Yeah.”

“When did you get that done?”

“A few months ago.” He rose and turned. He held a shirt but didn’t immediately put it on. The torchlight twinkled off the twin rings through his nipples. Those were new too. Garrett tried not to focus on how attractive he was, even more so than when they were in school together. Garrett had a job to do, after all—even if he had come there hoping for a little something else.

“Still working on your canvas I see,” Garrett said. “Every time I see you it’s a new tattoo or piercing. You’ll never get a job in the real world.” He said the last bit with a mock-fatherly tone.

Keegan rubbed a hand over the snake around his arm. “I don’t think I’m going back to the real world. As much as I love archeology, I’m leaving the field.”

Garrett looked at him in disbelief. “You are?”

“There’s much more to this world than we ever imagined at Cornell.” Keegan pulled his shirt on, a plain white t-shirt, so tight it clung to the sculpted landscape of his chest and abs. “I think you know that better than anyone, Garrett. I can’t work in a structured system anymore.”

“What about your travels? Your adventures? You couldn’t give those up; I know you! You want to see the world.”

“The world is bigger than what I can see now, working under measly grants.” Keegan grew stoic. “You shouldn’t have come here, Garrett.”

Garrett’s bewilderment increased. “Why not? This is what I do. And besides, I get to see you. I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“It’s dangerous.”

Garrett laughed sarcastically. “I’ve been handling dangerous creatures for a long time, Keegan. A dragon? That’s the holy grail of my field! My grants come from people with “special interests,” but if I found a dragon and could document it? The scientific community would come crawling back to me to apologize! I wouldn’t need to beg on the doorsteps of eccentric millionaires.”

Keegan shifted his jaw. His gaze met Garrett’s, the gleaming blue depths of his eyes capturing the torchlight, and then he looked away. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said.

“Keegan, I know what I’m doing.” Garrett rose, smiling, and grasped his shoulders. Indeed, he felt warm. “Trust me.”

Wistful Wednesday

Happy Holidays!

Since it is the Wednesday before Christmas (how did that happen), I thought I'd treat you to some nice holiday videos to get you into the spirit. Hope you enjoy them!

TANTALIZING TUESDAY

The Moonlighters Welcome Deena Remiel

Please welcome Deena Remiel into the Moonlight. Deena is the author of Trinity, A Brethren Novel, which will be released by Decadent Publishing. Other books written by Deena Remiel are Relic, the second in the Brethren Novel Series, soon to be released by Decadent Publishing, and Brethren Beginnings~ Rise of the Brethren, Volumes 1 and 2, free reads at Decadent Publishing.

Now, it's time to create a little mayhem and get to the good stuff by revealing all Deena’s deepest darkest secrets in the moonlight. LOL Yeah, you wish! ;-D Grab your favorite wicked drink, sink your teeth into something decadent, sit back, relax and enjoy getting to know Deena Remiel.


MLM: The holidays are fast approaching and things always seem to get busier during this time of year. Do you have a relaxing technique that helps you de-stress? If so, please share, because this is advice we all need!

DR: Well… lists. Lists are good. Whenever I get stressed over gift-giving I make lists. Once it’s on paper the stress level immediately goes down. Then, when I get to cross someone OFF my list, well that just makes my day and I feel 10 pounds lighter. If only those 10 pounds were real!  I also buy extra gifts just in case we have an unexpected guest with an unexpected gift of their own. Not a technique, but a proactive de-stressing strategy. Now, deep breaths, hot cocoa, and a great story help to ease me into a wonderfully relaxing evening.


MLM: Not everyone celebrates Christmas, but most of us still have traditions we participate in, such as attending holiday parties, decorating your house, baking cookies, etc. What is your favorite holiday tradition?

DR: My family loves decorating the interior of the house in shiny silver and blue. From garlands to obnoxious hanging paper lantern-like hangings, we have on occasion given the Griswalds of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation fame a run for their money. We love celebrations, so we usually invite all of our friends over to celebrate Chanukah, with potato latkes, donuts, falafel, chocolate money, and presents. Then we go over to their houses to decorate their Christmas trees and watch the kids open presents on Christmas Day.


MLM: In the south, holidays are centered around food, with huge meals and lots of baked sweets. Do you have a favorite holiday recipe you'd like to share with us? If not, how about an all-year-round favorite recipe?

DR: I’d love to share my potato latke recipe with you. It’s a meal that we eat often, but especially during Chanukah. So, if you’re like me and enjoy semi-homemade cooking, you’ll appreciate this recipe.

Ingredients:

1 bag Simply Potatoes, shredded 2 eggs
1/3 cup – ½ cup of flour 1 tsp salt, ½ tsp onion powder, ½ tsp pepper
Vegetable oil

Mix all ingredients together in large bowl. In large skillet, heat ¼ inch of vegetable oil on medium heat. Use a large serving spoon to scoop out some of the mixture and mold it to the spoon. Gently turn mixture into the heated oil. Repeat until skillet is full. Put spatter cover over skillet. Turn latkes over when the bottoms are golden brown. Remove from skillet when both sides are golden brown. Place on a cookie sheet covered with paper toweling to drain. Lightly sprinkle a little more salt over the latkes. Repeat process until mixture is all used up.
Serve with sides of sour cream or apple sauce. Enjoy!


MLM: There's another way to cook that's not semi-homemade? ;-) Have you ever made your own holiday presents and/or decorations? If so, what were they? Were they successes or failures? Did you have fun while making them?

DR: We are not particularly crafty people over here, but I can think of one or two things we’ve made for the holidays. On a couple of Thanksgivings, when my girls were much younger, we actually made name card holders that looked like Pilgrim hats and decorations that looked like ears of corn, but were made with candy corn. We had a blast making them and setting them on the table for all to enjoy. We also made real butter for many years. That had its ups and downs. We’d laugh hysterically because we looked like idiots shaking the jar. Sometimes, the jar wasn’t so good and we’d get splashed with the liquid that had separated from the solid. Yuck! But when we got it right, mmm, that butter was the most delicious butter we’d ever eaten.


MLM: If "Santa Claus" could bring you any gift you wanted, what would be your ultimate gift? (Please refrain from saying "money" because who doesn't want more of that!)

DR: Oh please, oh please Santa, I’d love a vacation home in Hawaii, and the means to get there anytime at all.


MLM: Oh, me too! Somewhere warm and sunny and out of this freaking arctic chill that's gripping my southern state! Brrr….Odd question, but my 9 year old thinks Rudolph and the reindeers "guiding Santa's sleigh" have GPS navigation. So, if you could give Santa and his sleigh any one modern technology, what would it be and why?

DR: Ha! Love it! I think I’d like to get his sleigh on the show, Pimp My Ride. They’d pimp out his sleigh with the latest in stereo systems, tv, gaming and dvd systems. Then they’d put a sick paint job on it.


MLM: ROFLMAO Too funny, Deena! Now, let’s get to your writing, Deena...what genre do you write and what is the draw for you?

DR: I write paranormal romances. I absolutely love the idea of creating a new world and a group of characters with compelling backgrounds. Fantasy stories and romance novels have always been a part of my life, so putting the romantic and the fantastical elements together in my writing seemed destined to be.


MLM: If you could describe your writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

DR: Ferocity of spirit. At the core of all of my writing, whether novels, short stories, or poetry, is the desire to empower others, to send the message that no matter how bad things get, we are not alone and Good will prevail. In addition, we are our own advocates and responsible for making our own choices that lead us through the hardest of times to the definitive, desired outcome- success.


MLM: Ooo…I like that! With the current movement to encourage people to give books as gifts, what, in your opinion, makes your story unique? What makes Trinity stand out among all of the other books out there?

DR: Well, when was the last time you prayed for help, and wound up falling in love with the very angel sent to help you? Trinity is a story of love’s loyalty and faith tested, of forgiveness, and of ultimate sacrifice.


MLM: Do you prefer throwing snowballs or serving hot cocoa? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

DR: I prefer serving up the hot cocoa, for sure. I’m a nurturer by nature, so there’s nothing I enjoy more than watching everyone playing in the snow, then suddenly seeing they’re snow-caked bodies rush toward the house. They can’t peel off they’re sopping wet snow coats fast enough. The droning hum of the dryer harmonizes with the yummy sighs of people as they sip on their steaming mugs of hot cocoa. This definitely shows in my writing because I’ve given Emma, my heroine, those nurturing qualities as well. The Brethren Protectors send energy surges of comfort and peace. The Brethren Saviors heal not just body, but mind and soul.


MLM: If you could give any of your characters a holiday gift, which character would it be and what would you give them? Why do they deserve this gift?

DR: Hmmm. I think I’d like to give Michael a Nikon digital camera. He seemed so taken by the photographs on Emma’s fireplace mantle that I bet he would appreciate the opportunity to take some of his own and to be in them as well.


MLM: Who decides what your characters do, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stuffing the stocking?

DR: Ooh, great question! I decide and my characters laugh! Ha ha! Actually, my characters and I work as a team. I start the ball rolling with some key ingredients and ideas and then my characters chime in and take over for a little while. On rare occasions I have had to take control back, but they’re pretty terrific about discussing and deciding what should happen and why.


MLM: Dear Muse…I want Deena's Muse, so take notes! What character did you have the most fun creating and why?

DR: No doubt about it, Agremon! What an evil, sarcastic SOB! Whenever I had to write a scene with him in it, I would have to physically and mentally change myself. My relaxed sitting position changed to one of aggression. I had to let all good thoughts out of my head and let creepy ones enter so I could think and speak like him. He reminds me a bit of Freddy, from Nightmare on Elm Street, with his sarcasm and his ability to create nightmares that people don’t usually come out of alive.


MLM: If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why?

DR: I’d like to meet Michael because I believe in angels, but I’ve never met one.


MLM: Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

DR: Both Namirha and Agremon can stay good and far away from me! I don’t ever want to come face to face with pure evil, and they, my friends, are pure, unadulterated evil.


MLM: If you were interviewing yourself, what is the one question you would ask yourself and please give us the answer to that question?

DR: Question- Are there any authors who have inspired you along this writing journey? If so, who are they? Answer- Yes, Sherrilyn Kenyon and Jayne Ann Krentz. Before I embarked on my own writing career, I came across their books and never looked back. Sherrilyn has inspired me to create my own world, the world of the Brethren, where angels really do exist on Earth. I’ve created a whole team of Brethren with a solid purpose and compelling stories. Jayne Ann’s romance and depth of emotion, in any time period, squeezes my heart and takes my breath away. So I look to these authors as mentors.


MLM: Thanks so much for joining us, Deena! It's been a treat getting to know you better!

DR: Well, it’s certainly been a pleasure being here and chatting it up with you. Thank you so much for having me here today. Before I go, I would just like to add that one reason why I love my publishing house so much, Decadent Publishing, is because of the vigorous fundraising they do for the American Cancer Society. I am part of the team for Relay for Life, and I’d like to ask your readers to join me in our efforts to help cancer patients see their next birthday, and the next. All we need is a moment and a donation of any amount. It would be so appreciated! Just click on this link, and it will take you to my page. Thank you all! =D http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR?px=18312701&fr_id=31130&pg=personal

Website: http://www.deenaremiel.com/
Buy Link: to be announced
http://plotmamas.com/
http://brethrenbeginnings.wordpress.com/
http://www.decadentpublishing.com/
www.facebook.com/deenaremiel
www.twitter.com/deenaremiel




BLURB:

One way or another, terror will reign tonight.

Emma Livingston, a single mom, has been through hell—and back, so she thinks. While dealing with her five year old daughter’s night terrors, she attempts to live a normal life. That is, until the being from those very nightmares comes to visit her. Has her child been dealing with a real demon while she thought he was only a figment of an active imagination?

Michael D’Angelo is known to everyone in Prophet’s Point, Arizona, as their loving elementary school principal. But to The Brethren, he is known as the most powerful Protector. Immortal and angelic does not mean he’s without doubts or fears. While trying to protect Emma and Hannah, his tortured past comes back to haunt him. Can he overcome it? Or is he doomed to repeat a failure he has lived with for what seems like an eternity?

As Emma and Michael come together to protect Hannah, ancient secrets are revealed and faith is tested. When a prophecy is exposed, questions must be answered… Can Emma learn to trust enough to love again? Can Michael believe in himself enough to show Emma how? And will they be able to protect an innocent child, not to mention save the world as they know it, from total annihilation?


EXCERPT:

A blood-curdling scream shattered the peaceful silence of the wee hours. She roused, instantly alert. Her soul, rocked by the echoing scream, seized up like a blown car engine.

“Ow! Son of a bitch!” Emma swore under her breath. She kicked aside the inconsiderate Malibu Barbie. “Hannah, I’m coming! Mama’s coming!”

Her stomach roiled at the terror and desperation in her daughter’s panic-stricken voice echoing through the hallway.

“I won’t go! I won’t go! No! I’ll never let you take me! I won’t do it! You can’t make me do it! Mama! Help me! Mama!”

Well hell, this is something new. Usually, when Hannah was having one of her nightmares, she shrieked until Emma talked her out of it and put her back to sleep. Now she’s talking in her nightmare, too? Completely at a loss, she raked her hands through her hair as she rushed to her daughter, writhing on the bed.

“Hannah, I’m here. You’re ok. Mama’s here. Wake up, honey. Sweetie? Mama’s here.” She repeated these phrases like a mantra, trying to keep her voice as calm and soothing as possible. But who was she kidding? This newly added dimension of these nightmares was sending her over the deep end herself. She hoped her little one couldn’t sense it.

“Mama! He’s got me! Save me, Mama!” Hannah pleaded in a frenzy of emotion. It looked as though something was tugging on her arms and she was trying to pull them back. And her eyes were open.

Crap! She’s never had her eyes open before, either. What the hell was going on?

She sat next to her frenzied body and waved a hand in front of her face. Hannah looked at and past her, as though there really was someone else in the room; as though this someone was seated right next to her. Crap, crap, crap! As she turned to look beside her, she saw a hint of a shadow, but then figured it to be her own. Get a hold of yourself.

“Honey, wake up. It’s only a dream. You’re ok. You’re safe.”

Hannah looked back again at her, and foretold in a chilling tone, “I’ll never be safe, Mama. Not anymore.”

Starlight Saturday

Coming Soon. Right now this is a test to see if scheduling a blog works.

PHANTASM FRIDAY

You may or may not be aware that I contracted the first book in my Road to Hell Series, Pandora's Box, with Decadent Publishing. I'm presently awaiting the first round of edits on Pandora's Box, I have completed book two and have started writing on book three in the series. In the meantime, I'm writing a prequel to Pandora's Box, so that those who read Pandora's Box will understand how dysfunctional Madison's relationship with her father was and how much it shaped her life...for the good and bad. So, I thought I'd share Madison's First Life Lesson...If you enjoy it, please click over to the blog that's dedicated to Madison's Life Lessons (HERE). A second Life Lesson is already up, with a third one coming next week. To learn more about Pandora's Box, please visit my website by clicking HERE.

WARNING: The content of this prequel may be considered highly inflammatory to those with a sensitive nature. I do not endorse or reject Christianity in any manner whatsoever. This is a fictional story only and does not reflect my personal beliefs as it relates to Christianity. If you have a question about my belief in Christianity, I'll be happy to discuss it with you in a civilized manner through e-mails at gracen.miller@yahoo.com.

LIFE LESSON ONE…

“You’re morally damned, Madison Grace Wescott!” Bruce Wescott screamed the outraged whisper into his daughter’s face. “It shames me to recognize you as my daughter.”

Madison shrunk further into the corner of the church bench, wishing she could shrink out of sight. Maybe if she were out of Daddy’s sight, she’d be out of his mind too, she thought as she blinked back the stinging tears. A hurried peek around the church sanctuary confirmed no one else witnessed her setback.

Unsure what she’d done to receive his censure this time, she offered a weak, “Yes, sir, I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Not that an apology ever appeased him.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing too, young lady, but the Lord,” he snapped drawing to his five-foot six stature. “If you don’t repent and alter your ways, God’ll see you burn in Hell.”

“Yes, sir, I understand.” She hoped she sounded meek enough to suit his temper or she’d find herself on her knees after church service praying for her soul. Depending upon his mood, she could pray for hours without a restroom break or a knee break. And boy, oh, boy, could her knees suffer brutal agony in that position.

It would be great if she knew what to repent so she could avoid the burn of Hell. She didn’t want to burn any more than he wanted her to burn. A typical complaint centered on her appearance. Her hair was too blonde, her eyes too blue, her boobs too big and her figure too lush for her too-tall frame. At 15 she was already three and a half inches taller than him. All these complaints apparently forced men to sin against God by lusting after her. Not that she encouraged men to lust after her, mind you, but on the off chance that they did, it was still her fault in Daddy’s eyes.

“Brother Wescott,” Becca Slayter said with her hand extended to her father, cheap red lipstick smeared outside the lip-line of her saggy mouth. The over-abundance of lipstick did not give her the appearance of fuller lips. Reminded of another one of her father’s complaints—her lips were too full and sensual—Madison pinched her lips together. “I wanted to extol how much your sermon last Sunday enriched my life this week. Why I was telling Cynthia Jones…”

Madison stopped listening to Becca Slayter’s conversation with her dad because she didn’t much like ‘Sister’ Becca or her high-pitched annoying voice. And she was old, like thirty or thirty-five, and all Sister Becca ever did was brag about some new object she’d received.

She peeked around the sanctuary and took special care not to openly snag the gaze of any man. Opening her worn leather-bound Holy Bible to the Gospel of Luke, she began to read and mentally pray God would forgive her for whatever sin she’d committed. If she were lucky, by the time Daddy finished his morning sermon he would forget all about her morally damned soul. She sure didn’t want to spend the afternoon praying on her knees.

TWILIGHT THURSDAY

The Moonlighters Welcome Kari Gregg

Please welcome Kari Gregg into the Moonlight. Kari is the author of Spoils of War, which was recently released by Noble Romance Publishing. Other books written by Kari are Lovely Wicked and Blood Oath: What Rough Beast (to be released by Loose Id on January 25, 2011).

Now, it's time to create a little mayhem and get to the good stuff by revealing all of Kari’s deepest darkest secrets in the moonlight. LOL Yeah, you wish! ;-D Grab your favorite wicked drink, sink your teeth into something decadent, sit back, relax and enjoy getting to know Kari.


MLM: The holidays are fast approaching and things always seem to get busier during this time of year. Do you have a relaxing technique that helps you de-stress? If so, please share, because this is advice we all need!

KARI: When I’m fed up and need a break, I turn off the phones, the TV, the laptop -- everything. As far as the world is concerned, I’m Out Of Order. The silence, even if it’s only for a few minutes? WONDERFUL!


MLM: Not everyone celebrates Christmas, but most of us still have traditions we participate in, such as attending holiday parties, decorating your house, baking cookies, etc. What is your favorite holiday tradition?

KARI: We, as a family, attend a candlelight service every Christmas Eve and then go home to take turns reading from Twas the Night Before Christmas and the biblical narratives of Jesus’ birth. Even my grown daughter (who is an atheist) goes to church and takes her turn reading. (When she first professed to not believe in the existence of a god, forget my Judeo-Christian God, my husband and I told her she was off the hook, but she insisted, LOL.) It’s a nice, soothing evening for us to pause and reflect before the gluttony of commercialist greed the next morning. :D


MLM: In the south, holidays are centered around food, with huge meals and lots of baked sweets. Do you have a favorite holiday recipe you'd like to share with us? If not, how about an all-year-round favorite recipe?

KARI: Nothing says “holidays” to me like my cranberry pumpkin bread! Probably because I only make it during the holidays.

Cranberry-Pumpkin Bread
3 ½ c all-purpose flour
2 c brown sugar
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
¾ tsp salt
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground cloves
4 eggs
1 (16 oz) can of whole cranberry sauce
1 (15 oz) can of pumpkin puree
1/3 c vegetable oil

Preheat oven to 350 and spray 2 loaf pans with non-stick cooking spray.

Combine: flour, brown sugar, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon and cloves.

Mix eggs, pumpkin and vegetable oil. Gently fold in cranberry sauce.

Add cranberry-pumpkin mixture to flour mixture & mix until just moistened. Pour batter in prepared loaf pans.

Bake 1 hour or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.


MLM: Mmmm…that sounds delicious! Have you ever made your own holiday presents and/or decorations? If so, what were they? Were they successes or failures? Did you have fun while making them?

KARI: Oh my. When we first married, my husband and I were economic vegetarians -- we couldn’t afford to buy meat, LOL, so every holiday/birthday gift was handmade. I quilted and sewed. I crotcheted (yarn and thread). I painted ceramics and learned to make temari balls (Japanese thread balls -- Google it, I guarantee you will lose your minds at how exquisite they are). I cross-stitched and embroidered…I adored it all, really. Some projects turned out better than others, of course, but I think the holiday-themed appliqué quilted wall hangings I did one year was everyone’s favorite, a keepsake both sides of our respective families drag out year after year after year. That, or an Irish lace table runner I made for my mother from a very thin thread…That one’s still going strong and it’s out year-round.


MLM: If "Santa Claus" could bring you any gift you wanted, what would be your ultimate gift? (Please refrain from saying "money" because who doesn't want more of that!)

KARI: My twelve year-old second cousin is dying of a rare but aggressive cancer. Barring a cure and full recovery (which is #1 on my list), I’d want him to make it through the holidays. My cousin and older son were born within weeks of each other so watching him going through this and how the whole family has pulled together even in their suffering…It really hits hard and reminds me what’s truly important.


MLM: I'll pray he makes he through the holidays as well! Odd question, but my 9 year old thinks Rudolph and the reindeers "guiding Santa's sleigh" have GPS navigation. So, if you could give Santa and his sleigh any one modern technology, what would it be and why?

KARI: An iPhone. Because the idea of Santa using the Farmville app just cracks me up.


MLM: LOL I can just picture him now playing Farmville in-between house stops!! Now, let’s get to your writing, Kari...what genre do you write and what is the draw for you?

KARI: I write m/f, m/m & ménage contemporaries, fantasies and paranormals. The draw? Building the storyworlds. As I flesh out the worlds these characters move in (and even in the contemporaries, I’m world-building), the characters come to life, but for me, it almost always starts with the world my characters will move inside first. How each of these worlds work (and don’t work) fascinates me endlessly.


MLM: If you could describe your writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

KARI: I’ll have to defer to my tag line: A World More Extraordinary--Intense, Erotic Romance. Why a world more extraordinary? Because even in my contemporaries, the worlds my characters move in or the way these characters relate to their story worlds are unique. Intense? Well, you’d have to read one of my books, but a reviewer called one of my books “emotionally wrenching in places.” I agree. If the book doesn’t make you squirm or stir your heart? As far as I’m concerned, I’ve failed to deliver the goods.


MLM: With the current movement to encourage people to give books as gifts, what, in your opinion, makes your story unique? What makes it stand out among all of the other books out there?

KARI: It’s not just a love story, although the romance is the focus of the story and the book’s key. But in telling the love story, Spoils of War also shows the endurance--and triumph--of the human spirit. Micah is so emotionally damaged at book’s start. He has to work his way through that to grow in his relationship with not only Eli, but also how he fits in his world. The reader will see more of that in the sequel, but in Spoils, we see Micah’s strength in surviving the horror of his childhood and watch him take his first steps (with Eli’s love and support) toward healing. It’s a love story, yes, but it’s a love story that shows us that love finds us where we are and helps us along to a better place.


MLM: Do you prefer throwing snowballs or serving hot cocoa? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

KARI: Oh, I’m a hot cocoa woman. Turn down chocolate? That’s an alternative that just does not exist in my universe, LOL.

Does it show in my writing? Hm. Perhaps. Really, it depends on my characters. When I’m writing, I more or less crawl into my character’s head and breathe in their skin for a while. If my character declares merciless war with snowballs? I become a heavily armed snow fiend, too. If my character rolls his/her eyes at impending snow-pocalypse? My eyes are rolling, too. Depends on who I’m writing and who that character is.


MLM: If you could give any of your characters a holiday gift, which character would it be and what would you give them? Why do they deserve this gift?

KARI: I’d give Micah his voice back. He has slowly, painfully begun to speak again at the close of Spoils, but he’s nowhere close to reclaiming it. Micah’s voice, his willingness & ability to speak, operates as a metaphor for Micah reclaiming who he is and who he wants to become so I really, really want him to feel comfortable speaking again. Unfortunately, at the start of the sequel, he’s regressed due to the stress and pressures of his new life in “freedom” and I’m working on that now so how badly I want him to speak is absurd. Micah is such a sweetheart. He’s suffered enough. He’s earned his happily ever after with Eli--and then some. ;-)


MLM: Who decides what your characters do, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stuffing the stocking?

KARI: Muse? I kicked that bitch to the curb years ago, LOL. My characters decide what they do. I start every book with an outline of how I expect the story to progress, but the characters declare mutiny at some point. I’m more than happy to let them. I consider it a good sign that I’m on the right track. I can’t say that I’ve ever had a character totally derail a plot or the basic flow of a book, but how my characters move within that basic framework tends to be fluid.


MLM: Hmm…*taps chin*…I want the courage to kick mine to the curb too! =D What character did you have the most fun creating and why?

KARI: Oh my. It seems like my favorite is always the character whose story I’m working on at the time is the most fun. So much to explore, so many lovely possibilities. And when the book’s done? I adore them all, for their strengths and especially for their weaknesses. Impossible to pick only one. Very like picking a favorite among my children. There’s no such thing as favorite or most fun because I love them all, each of them, in different ways.


MLM: If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why?

KARI: I’d want to meet Mitch from Lovely Wicked. He is so unabashed about what he likes and relentless in his pursuit of what he wants. And of all my characters, his sense of humor is the closest to mine. I think we’d laugh our fool heads off. :D


MLM: Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

KARI: Oooh, Zechariah, the Dark Master vampyr who is determined to win the hero, Garrick, back from the Rebels in Blood Oath: What Rough Beast. Zechariah is chillingly sociopathic.


MLM: If you were interviewing yourself, what is the one question you would ask yourself and please give us the answer to that question?

KARI: What one piece of advice would you give to pre-published writers?

KEEP WORKING. Keep writing. Keep submitting your books, novellas and short stories. Continue honing your craft and learning the business side of the industry. Your day is coming.


MLM: Excellent advice! Thanks so much for joining us, Kari! It's been a treat getting to know you better!

KARI: Thanks for having me! It’s been fun. :D

Website: http://www.karigregg.com/
Buy Link:
Noble Romance: https://www.nobleromance.com/ItemDisplay.aspx?i=192
ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-spoilsofwar-478622-143.html
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Spoils-of-War-ebook/dp/B004AYDHHA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1291414838&sr=8-1
Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/karigregg
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/Kari.M.Gregg
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4366316.Kari_Gregg

Lovely Wicked at…
Noble Romance: https://www.nobleromance.com/ItemDisplay.aspx?i=181
ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-lovelywicked-471842-144.html
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lovely-Wicked-ebook/dp/B004AHKCW0/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1291414838&sr=8-2

BLURB:

Enslaved during the invasion of the rival King of Herra, Micah cut off his emotions and adapted to his new life in servitude. Xerxes, the Herran King, abuses his captive to keep the neighboring kingdom of Alekia under his yoke, but after Micah nearly dies when plague sweeps Herra, the Alekian King sends Eli to bring his beloved son home.

Institutionalized by his slavery, unable to cope with his freedom, Micah seeks to please the new master he's found in Eli throughout their harrowing journey to a homeland he no longer remembers. Eli protects the young man and introduces Micah to the pleasures denied him as a prisoner.

Will Micah accept his noble birthright when they reach Alekia, and more importantly, can he accept Eli as the devoted slave his father has given him rather than the master he's come to love?


EXCERPT:

Eventually, my abductor shifted me behind him, stringing my thin arms around his neck and clasping my thighs about his thickly muscled waist. My body felt frozen, like the blocks of muddy ice stored in the kitchen cellars, but I could not swim so I hung on as best I could. He pushed away from the protective cover of our tree, striking toward the dark riverbank with supple and efficient strokes. When we'd almost reached it, he rose up out of the water. I clung to his back as he strode onto dry land and into the veil of trees skirting the shoreline.

"Can you walk?"

I shook my head against the blade of his shoulder, shivering again as a night breeze skimmed over my wet skin, spiking into my bones through the wet layer of clothing he'd provided me.

He marched through the trees, his steps sure. Certain. I both envied his self-assurance and feared it. Envy, because I'd never been confident of anything except my servitude. Fear, because . . . I knew not how to please my new master, and I desperately needed to please him. I could accept this change and my new lot with the hulking stranger. I could wrap my mind around it, but only if I satisfied what he required of me. He'd demanded so little, and the lack of instruction balled my stomach.

He abruptly halted and stooped to a crouch, untangling my arms from his neck. My thighs sprang open. My backside settled to the hard ground. I lolled, the sparse reserves of my body depleted by the harrowing journey.

"Xerxes will not expect his own people to hide you, so we travel with a band of merchants to the border." He pivoted and yanked at my sodden clothing. "But we dare not enter camp wet."

I could not force my leaden arms and legs to cooperate, but he made short work of stripping me until I sprawled under him shivering and naked. Gooseflesh pebbled my fair skin, which glowed in the miserly light cast by the fingernail moon. He stretched to the side and unfolded a blanket, tucking it over my nudity before his hands rose to remove his own drenched clothes.

Ah.

He'd plow me.

My curious eyes watched him peel his shirt over his head and kick off his boots. I admired the bunch of muscle, his broad shoulders, the sculpted expanse of his absurdly large chest. My glance darted from him, heat creeping into my cheeks, when his fingers plucked at the laces of his breeches. Even I, practiced whore that I was, would never be so bold as to examine his prick until bidden to do so.

When his hands fell to the wool blanket covering my thin chest, I startled nonetheless, my stare returning to him. Rather than groping for me, those hands set to a brisk rub. He scoured the blanket over my chilled skin, throat to groin, then back again. The touch wasn't unpleasant. The impersonal caress was actually rather . . . enjoyable. My wicked heart skipped a beat at the forbidden delight of his big hands warming me, but I resisted the urge to squirm.

Immobile.

I must forebear.

I must do as my new master willed of me.

His attention focused to the left, his fingers yet working the blanket over my flesh. "Miriam comes. She will tend to you."

I stiffened.

Blood roared in my ears.

A woman?

I was to be given to a woman?

Shrieking anguish lanced through me, locking the air in my chest. I had never been bedded by a woman, never been touched by one. I'd seen them in the kitchen, of course, but I'd been commanded well away from them and they from me, which I'd been secretly glad of. Females perplexed me. I knew men shoved their pricks inside them, that they were plowed as I was, but I'd never wanted to do the plowing and the idea of placing my mouth to them made me shudder in revulsion.

Surely, my new master didn't expect me to—

The stranger's eyes softened at my quick sound of distress. He smiled and playfully tugged the fat, yellow braid that slid and dripped down my shoulder. "To tend to your hair, little prince. Only that."

Fresh worry curled in my gut.

My hair?

What of my hair?

I had no rights, no privileges. None knew that better than I, but I had never been able to squash vanity over my unique coloring. Everyone else's hair was as dark as their eyes, either brown or black, their skin tan and swarthy. Not me. I was a novelty, every hair on my body a rich yellow the same shade as honey, and my eyes shone with the sparkling luster of emeralds. I knew this to be so because my masters often told me. They unplaited my hair and fisted it in their hands as they rutted with me, fanned it over their chests and stroked it when they'd finished. They kissed my eyelids and praised my odd coloring. They enjoyed stroking my creamy skin, murmuring in wonder at the stark contrast of my small, pale body against theirs.

I was a slave and the lowliest among them, but I was also prized by my masters, my physical weakness forgiven by virtue of my exceptional coloring and my compliance to the demands of their pricks.

My stomach churned.

The threatened woman eased from the surrounding trees, short like me but very round. She carried a crude basket. She stared at me, and this time, I did wriggle under my blanket, though the stranger's hand patted my bony arm, as though to soothe me.

The woman's mouth thinned. She spoke to the man in a tongue I did not understand. My eyes narrowed as they conversed in low voices, the rolling cadence of the words familiar yet at the same time foreign. It seemed I should know this language, and indeed, a niggle in the back of my mind suggested a translation for a word or two. But when the female looked at me, spoke, I could only stare at her, mystified.

"She needs you to sit up, my lord," the stranger supplied.

I sat up.

She scurried to my rear, twitching my braid over my shoulder, and when my eyes focused with alarm on my abductor, he lifted a palm to cup my cheek. "Easy, little one. It will grow back."

Terror squeezed my belly. My hair had never been cut. But if my new master bid it then cut it would be. He could shave me bald, advertising my whore's body to the world if he chose, and I concentrated on my gratitude that he didn't require that much. Tears burned my eyes, though, when I felt the gentle tug on my braid and I whimpered at the lightening pressure on my scalp as the woman cleaved the thick hank of my hair through.

Wispy ends escaped the ravaged tail of my braid to brush my neck.

A single tear slid from one eye.

He threaded his fingers through the hair above my temple, helping the woman free what remained of my hair from the loosened plait. "It will grow back," he repeated when I opened my eyes.

My gaze lowered.

I nodded.

The woman spoke again and the stranger translated once more. "Lean back."

When I did, a horrible, rancid scent clogged my throat and a hoarse, pained moan worked from my chest because I knew that scent, too—dye.

"Only temporary." My abductor stroked the line of my jaw and smiled at my cringe as the female worked the foul mixture into my newly shorn hair. "After we've crossed the border, we'll wash it away. I swear to you."

"Keep him dry or the stain will run. Xerxes' soldiers will search for the yellow-haired boy-man first, but they'll arrest anyone small enough who's leeching dye onto their clothes."

I blinked in surprise, momentarily shocked from my misery.

She could speak Herran.

Oddly, that made me cry harder.

"He'll be fine." The man switched to the other, almost-familiar language, and the two of them talked while her fingers kneaded the stain into my shorter hair, bunching it in her fists to evenly distribute the color. My abductor's fingers stroked my tears from my face as soon as they fell, silently comforting me, though his resolution as to what the woman did to me did not falter.

I let the sounds of their conversation roll over me, a soft buzz in the back of my mind as I wept. I wanted to stop. Eventually, my new master's patience would wane, and he'd tolerate my sniveling far less now that I was ugly. But the horrible pressure in my chest didn't loosen. Every caress of the woman's hands in my hideous hair lashed another stripe into my heart. My exhaustion married with my grief and both overwhelmed me.

The woman disappeared into the trees when she finished. The stranger retrieved dry clothes from a neat pile nearby, and he dressed me like a child's doll, cinching me into thick robes. I wept, though the material brushed sinfully indulgent against my skin, and the sleeves draped to my wrists and ankles instead of dwarfing me as my wet tunic and breeches had. I wept while my captor shrugged into his own robes, belting the sash around his waist, and I wept when he bent to scoop me into his arms, cradling me against him.

He tucked my head into the crook of his shoulder and carried me through the trees into his camp. He dropped to one knee next to a crackling fire and laid me upon a pallet of blankets beside it. He stretched out behind me, pressing his front to my back. "Now you will be warm."

I squirmed when his breath tickled the sensitive skin at my exposed nape, but the heat of the fire felt so good. His warmth to my back sandwiched me in a delicious cocoon of security.

I sniffled.

His heavy arm settled over my hip. "Sleep."

I slept.

***

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