Friday, September 30, 2011

NOW you can get nekkid--It's Friday Flash Time.

Fire & Ice #9

A bitter taste filled Ryan’s mouth. Jagged disappointment unfurled in his chest. Without Simeon he and Joshua would soon fall apart. The prospect of eternity with neither man at his side was—unfathomable.
Ryan closed his eyes.
He couldn’t allow such a terrible thing to come to pass.
Pulling his arm out from underneath Simeon, Ryan brought both hands to frame the smaller man’s face. Simeon’s eyes turned to him, wide and wary, the pupils blown open so far they nearly swallowed all trace of color. Ryan drew upon every angelic power he possessed to infuse his words with an unquestionable stamp of believability.
“Simeon. We—Josh and I? We’ve been waiting for you. You’re the glue that holds us together. I know you may not see time the same way that we do. Elementals are sort of outside time, aren’t you? We haven’t had anyone else, not ever.”
Here his voice broke. Ryan pulled in a sharp breath before continuing. The sound of his words was lower now, tattered and rough.
“Please Simeon. Give us a chance.”
Over Simeon’s shoulder Ryan could see Joshua’s face go slack for an instant before his brows drew together in a fierce frown.
“Stop it Rye. Don’t you ever beg. Not me, not even Simeon. You’re too good to beg anyone for anything. He-you. I. Damn it—”
A buzzing noise interrupted.
Ryan knew that ringtone.
He shuddered, then extended his upper wing again, enfolding Simeon in it.
“Go on Josh. Answer it. He’ll get angry if you ignore him.”
Simeon’s forehead crinkled up, and his eyes squinted slightly. Josh folded the soft velvet of his wing against his back, and Simeon made a barely perceptible noise of distress. Josh exhaled shakily.
“Yeah. About that. Dad heard Simeon volunteer to take my place earlier. And he says if I don’t find the stuff on this crazy list he sent earlier he’s gonna call his marker in. I can’t stop him Rye.”
Joshua’s gold and amber eyes pleaded for understanding. There was no other word for it. Ryan gasped.
“No, Josh. He’d never survive.”
Ryan folded his wing more tightly around Simeon.
“No, Josh. We have to find the things for his list. Show us.”
Josh held his phone out to Ryan. The incubus’s hand trembled just before Ryan grasped the phone. Ryan set the device down and the latched onto Joshua’s hand. He caressed the silky skin at the base of Joshua’s wrist, and then pressed the other eternal’s hand back against Simeon’s hip, placing his own over the top.
“Together, Josh. We’ll keep him safe whatever it takes, and he’ll hold us together. The three of us were destined by the Fates. Nothing can change that. It’ll be okay. I promise.”
Simeon reached up, placing his hand over both of theirs.
“I haven’t got a single clue what either of you is talking about. Could someone kindly let me in on what in the world is going on?”

Keep Your Shirt ON!!


Just for a little while longer.

The Friday Flash is coming to a writing cave near about 1 hour.


Thursday, September 29, 2011

Thursday Think Tank: On Losing Your Grip

Today, I knocked my favorite mug off the top of the entertainment center. The cup, my beloved "Mom" cup, is ringed with a poem printed in a rainbow of colors. The poem is all about the varying states, struggles, and sheer overwhelmingness of Mommydom.

So, when it fell, I of course hollered out --Fuck--Fuck--Fuck--in a loud voice.
Eh, so sue me.
It's my fave mug, and I saw it heading straight for an early demise.

Miraculously, the cup itself did not break.
Well, not the part that makes the cup a cup. The hot/cold beverage holder part is fine, the wonderfully humorous and at times touching poem is unscathed.

But the flippin' handle broke off.

Which led me to think about the nature of things, and how we are (almost always) afforded the opportunity to look at things from more than one perspective.

So my choices were to view this as losing my grip, or as a unique chance to hold the thing I love more closely.
Develop a tighter connection. With whatever it is about the silly mug that I love so much.

I realized I love the silly thing because it makes me remember all the good things about being a mom, while I'm lovin' on myself by drinking a hot cuppa.


So, my cup's not broken.
Instead I have a coffee mug that always warms my hands while the words on it warm my heart. I know, total cheese fest. Still, I gotta call 'em like I see 'em.
My cup's better now, cause I'm closer to the action.


That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

So, as you giggle over that, also ruminate on this.
What in your life has been broken in some manner?
And, how can that bring you closer to what you loved about that thing in the first place?

Just something to think about.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Christie's Comrade: The Secrets Evans Keeps

An Unedited Excerpt from The Soldier, the Shaman, and the Siren:

By the time dinner was over Mrs. Tarans had fed him half a peach cobbler. Then Sgt. Tarans had insisted on driving him back to the barracks—Evans wasn’t fooled, he knew the old man wanted his cigarettes back. On the way they’d had a surprisingly coherent discussion on the merits of Ethan Day’s writing between the three of them because Mrs. Tarans had insisted on coming along—and again, Evans wasn’t fooled, Mrs. Tarans had no intention of letting her husband get his hands on those cigarettes again. He said his goodbyes, and started across the quad towards his barracks, and instead ended up sitting in his car.
If it starts, it’s a sign, and I’ll drive back out there.
Naturally it didn’t start. Not the first time. It was still a sign even if it took twenty-four tries and shanghai-ing two guys to give him a push start to get it going, right? Well, that’s what Evans was going with as he drove back out toward Ryan’s house at eleven o’clock at night. He had a bad moment at a flashing red light intersection about half-way there when the engine stalled. Fortunately it was on a hill, so with a little muscle thrown in he ran and jumped back behind the wheel to pop the clutch and bang, the car was running again.
The lights were shining from the kitchen windows when he pulled into the drive. Evans parked carefully, mindful of the fact that his car might not start the next time he tried it. Either Pretty or Ryan could get called away at a moment’s notice. He shut his car off and got out. Walking up to the door, he felt the itch starting up again.
I won’t get any answers if I run away again.
At the door he laid his palm against the weathered wood. It felt oddly as though the house welcomed him, even invited him in. He moved to lay his forehead against the door as well but the added weight pushed the door slightly ajar. Evans pushed the door further open and stepped back into the house he’d left—run from in fact—only hours before.
Voices spilled across the living room with the splash of light from the kitchen’s doorway, one low and resonant, the other light and mellifluous. Evans’s heart started to pound as he carefully placed one foot in front of the other.
I can do this. I can.
Half-way across the living room he started to pant. The air felt thick and his breaths became uneven.
I want to know what he’s dreamed with me since that first time.
A low, rumbling laugh sounded in the kitchen. Evans froze for a moment, glancing wildly around. His eyes followed the warm yellow fall of light from above the kitchen table to where it ended aslant the wall directly in front of him. It fell across the Henry Avignon print like a purposely placed accent light.
I want to know why he didn’t come for me.
A higher laugh followed, tinkling gently, brushing against his skin like butterfly wings. He could almost feel the silken residue of their touch.
I want to know why I can feel Pretty’s anger and her joy.
He drew in a shaky breath and took a last step. Standing in the doorway, unable to move any farther forward, he hungrily drank in the sight before him. Pretty was sitting at the table, a ceramic mug the same shade of blue as her incredible eyes clasped in her hands. Little tendrils of steam wisped up from where she held it close to her face to curl around the high rounds of her cheeks in the dimly lit kitchen. Ryan’s broad back and shoulders were directly in front of Evans, their outline highlighted by the play of light and shadow. The rich red of his tee-shirt was a perfect foil for the gleaming, waist length ebony hair that lay in tangles down his back.
“Someone should brush your hair out, before those snarls get any worse.”

Psst. Don't forget about today being Silver Flash Day all over the Internet

Hey, don't forget to get yourself a little Silver Flash action today too.

Start at West Thornhill's blog (just click on the name) and make your way from there!

Work in Progress Wednesday-Another Installment of Fire & Ice

Fire & Ice #8

Simeon shivered as the low rough tone of Joshua’s voice slid into his ears. The vibrations rolled against the elemental’s skin in a warm rush of sound. Another layer of comforting warmth wrapped around Simeon. He gasped, unaccustomed to the deluge of sensation, hips jerking upward as his level of pleasure ramped up another notch. Ryan fluttered his wings against Simeon’s hands.
“Just like that. Oh. Yes.”
Ryan’s voice broke off into another wordless murmur. Then, apparently in response to Joshua’s statement about wanting Simeon on his side, Ryan folded the wing furthest from Joshua against his back, insinuated one strong arm under Simeon’s back with fingers splayed between the elemental’s shoulder blades, and grasped Simeon’s jaw with the other hand.
Ryan kissed Simeon. And while he sweetly poured what felt like an eon’s worth of feeling into the press of lips, he rolled to his side. Joshua’s hands grasped Simeon’s hip, lifting and pushing at the same moment. The whole movement, slick, sure and so very synchronized, gave birth to a niggling doubt in Simeon’s head.
Had they done this before?
Found some other lonely fool, whispered charming lies until they got the man naked, and plundered his flesh thoroughly before leaving him behind like a discarded toy?
A frisson of cold slid up Simeon’s spine. His gut clenched, the muscles at his center winding tighter and tighter as they attempted to draw away from the bleak, frozen despair of that thought. Joshua’s grip on his hip tightened.
“Simeon? What’s going on in that head of yours? I sweartagod—”
Ryan pulled back abruptly.
“Josh! You have got to stop using JC and his dad’s names in vain. How many times do I have to tell you?”
The air around Simeon crackled with tension. He felt hot waves of feeling beating at his back.
“Rye, we are not getting into that right now. Got it? The more important issue here is the way every muscle in Simeon’s back just tightened down so far it’s a wonder you can’t hear his bones creaking in protest.”
Ryan’s tiny frown and pursed lips softened as he turned his eyes from looking over Simeon’s shoulder to stare straight at the smaller man.
“Simeon? Are you okay? Do you need some more tea? A blanket?”
The angel’s hands moved as he spoke, one pressing even more firmly against Simeon’s back, fingers caressing the cool, pale skin beneath them. The other hand roamed up and down Simeon’s side. Simeon looked into Ryan’s eyes. Their silvery hazel depths beckoned him. Searching diligently, Simeon found no hint of malice in the warmth they offered him.
“I-I just. You were so smooth. When you moved me. Like you’d done it before. It—”
A harsh noise sounded behind Simeon. Like gravel on glass, the noise scraped across Simeon’s nerves, abrading them.
“He thinks we’re using him.”
The hand on his hip clutched him hard enough to bruise. With a snapping sound, a huge velvety wing curved up over Simeon. He was instantly enclosed in a magical cavern. The wing covered Ryan as well. Simeon turned his head up, reached up to touch the enticing surface of Joshua’s wing.
“So different…”
The texture, color and size of the wing was very different from the sleek, feathered appendages of purest white that Ryan sported. Joshua’s was more like something a bat would sport, softest leather covered in a thick layer of velvet. Simeon rubbed his fingertips over the rich texture, marveling at the color. The brown was dark enough to be mistaken for black at a quick glance.
“Never, little frost man, never. Rye and I just—things are easy with you. You fit us.” 

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Tuesday Triumph's and Tasks

Today had a lot of triumphs.
The sun shone.
My daughter smiled at me before she got on the bus. I got the release party date I wanted from my publicist over at Author Island...but it also had a whole lot of sadness.

Because I was thinking about September 21st. My daughter came home from  school talking about bullying, and how some kid had just killed himself in Buffalo. I went online and found Jamey Rodemeyer's story. I listened to the whole thing.

And I cried.
Then I got mad, and started asking myself some hard questions.

Why are kids killing themselves?
Because they don't fit in. And they feel shitty about themselves.

Sadly, it's fairly common for any kid that is perceived as different to be bullied, and while part of that has to do with a developmental stage kids go through, where they all want to fit into their peer group, the bullying has gotten ridiculous.

And GLBTQ kids are especially at risk. So, that being said, I'm putting a spot in my calendar each month for the next twelve months to write a short story for those kids. Either one they can read, or one whose proceeds can go towards helping there be places they can turn to. Cause for sure this shit needs to stop. I'm going to call the series Twelve Tales of Rue.

Anyone who wants to join me is welcome.

Why are we as adults allowing an environment to flourish that this can happen in?
Are we really that freaking lazy? That...indifferent?
The answer seems to be, in far too many cases, a resounding yes.

Which--cliched as it sounds--just breaks my heart.

And I'm going to do something about it.

Starting next month I'll be posting one free read on my YA site, Tales of Rue and Woe.
The stories I post there will be for the kids who get bullied. And they will be free.
I'll also be writing a twelve installment serial to sell, that will tell the tale of Rue and Woe from an adult's perspective.

And 50% of the author royalties from that project will go to help fund crisis intervention for kids like Jamey, and preventative training for the adults who work with them.

It's a little drop in the bucket.

But if you'll join me, and spread the word, we might just get something amazing started. Something that could mean a lot less kids would end their lives simply because they feel they don't fit.

Because that?

Is just shitty.

And if I don't do something, I'll feel like it's my fault.

I'm gonna stand right here (well, over at Tales of Rue and Woe anyway)
and do my part. You can help in so many ways.
 Donate stories for the kids.
Send me links to sites they can contact.
Volunteer to mentor at risk kids.
I'm betting there's a way for everyone to help.
A little bit.
One drop at a time, until this ocean of tears is no more.
Cause being a kid?
Is tough enough without anybody telling you that you suck.


Monday, September 26, 2011

Manic Monday Update

Is it some kind of unwritten rule that Mondays have to be filled with all sorts of craziness?
I dunno, maybe that's just what I expect, so that's what I find.

This week I'm trying to get a minimum of 2,500 words a day. Gearing up for NaNo.

I know, color me crazy. But, I want the enforced discipline of writing a set amount each and every day, so I'm going to start with the 2,500 and try to work my way up to 5,000 a day during the work week. I'll feel a lot better about taking weekends off that way.

So, for the week?
Goal : 17,500 new words written in one of my WIPs.
Goal : Finish (finally) unpacking the house
Goal : Finish The sequel to the Soldier & the State Trooper. I need to get it sent to beta readers and then off to my editor.
Goal : Write more. And more. And More.

Squeeze the budget a bit more. Just to make it holler.

Right, there's also the regularly scheduled chores, and other stuff.

For now, I'm off to write.

And drink coffee.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

A Little Tidbit

Questions I was asked at an awesome LRC chat:

Among your own books, have you a favorite? Hmm. I think my favorite so far is Tian's Hero, my upcoming Silver Publishing release. 
A favorite hero or heroine? This is why the story is my favorite. Lewell'yn. Sexy, scary assassin/spy/reluctant hero/anti-hero
I love his sarcasm. Lewell'yn cracks me up. He's just so off his rocker.
Tell us about your latest or upcoming release. What is this masterpiece all about?
The first story I'll have coming out with Silver is a Christmas story. It's actually a sequel to the short I wrote for the M/M Romance Group's Hot July Day's event, and is called A Kiss & Tell Interlude: Christmas Rum Balls  The story is another little slice of Tony, Neil and Kevin's lives as they grow in their relationship which began in Kiss & Tell.
Which of your books has been the easiest to write?  
The Soldier & the State Trooper. Or the one I'm working on now, cause I swear the thing is writing itself.
The hardest?  
Tian's Hero, the first of my Akanti series. Because it was the first one, and writing it was scary.
The most fun? Hmm. Either The Soldier & the State Trooper or Christmas Rum Balls. 
Which comes first, the story, the characters or the setting? For me it varies. Usually it's the characters first, and then they tell their story. I'm just taking dictation. Sometimes a setting sparks off an idea, or (most rare) the story will come to me in it's entirety and I just have to try to not muck it up to badly as I get it put into my trusty laptop.

What part of a book has been the easiest to write? 
Hmm. Once, when I was writing Tian's Hero, I wrote over 6,ooo words in a day. It was like the story was just pouring out of me and the characters were just patiently waiting their turns to tell their bits of the story. Yum. I love it when that happens.
 The hardest?
The ending always kicks my ass. I just hate to say goodbye to the characters.
What are the elements of a great romance for you?
Sexy with and underlying sweetness. Tension. Real interactions (sex that isn't always perfect but still scorches) and of course a HEA. I'm all about the Hea. I don't mind putting my characters through the wringer to get there, but I figure real life can be harsh enough. I want my paper people to be spared that.
What is the hardest/the easiest part of writing for you? 
Writing on a time schedule. I need to get in the right head space to write, and Real Life dictates I have to do that on a schedule. That's tough for me.
Are you in control of your characters or do they control you?
I'm just telling their stories. If I listen hard enough, and write with enough skill their stories can be everyone's story.

The Sunday After...

Last week I was felled by a beast of a headache.


Haven't had a migraine like that in nearly fifteen years. I know, I must have been a child, right?

*waggles eyebrows*

I spent Sunday through Friday in bed.

Yes, sadly alone.

I wrote nothing, because the screen of my trusty laptop was stabbing me with white-hot shards of pain every time I did something on it.

So, basically, it sucked. Big Time.

Today, however, does not suck. Not even a little. The migraine has been gone for over twenty-four hours, I finished my pre-edits for the Christmas Story I'm publishing with Silver Publishing, and ...yah, life is good again. Non-headachy even.



The kidlet had a birthday yesterday, and my sister racked up an Epic Auntie Win by sending flowers. Every little girl should get flowers delivered at least once.

Sadly, I've nothing prepped for the Sweet Sunday, perhaps I put up another snippet of The Soldier & the State Trooper...hmmm.

Nah. I'm gonna go unpack some more. I swear the boxes are breeding. LOL.

You guys have a fabulous Sunday, and I'll get back to the regularly scheduled program first thing Monday.

Ta, luvs.


Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Tuesday Triumph

I managed, with a migraine, to get the kidlet to THREE doctor's appointments and back home.

I am author with a migraine, hear me whimper.


Someone, pass the industrial strength coffee please?

And a pair of real dark glasses?

Monday, September 19, 2011

Manic Monday

My head hurts too much to be clever today. Sorry about that. I'm working on Blurbs for my Christmas Short from Silver Publishing, and dealing with some other little tasks. As long as it's not too bright I may be able to manage. Or not. I may go try to sleep this headache away...

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Another Snog from The Soldier & the State Trooper

It's that time again. Sunday Snog Time. Get ready for a snogging good time! Start out here, or where-ever you find the first snog, read through the snog below, and then follow the links for more snogging goodness! And be sure to leave Victoria Blisse, the wise woman who started all this snogging business, a comment telling her that this is the absolute best way to spend a Sunday!

A Snog from The Soldier & the State Trooper 

    Christie came through the laundry room door, a brow cocked
in query as he started to unbutton his camouflage pants. His sleek
chest and gorgeous, taut abs had Robert’s ribbon quickly acting
as a very real cock ring. Robert was seated at the table, so Christie
hadn’t seen he was nearly naked yet. The hungry way Christie was
watching Robert’s chest promised there was a good chance he’d
be more than willing to fall in with Robert’s plans for the evening.
    Christie’s face lit up.
    “Present? You have a present for me? Where is it?”
    Robert grinned. He loved the way Christie got so excited
about little things. He brought the guy a cheap plastic toy from
a fast food restaurant where he’d picked up his lunch one day,
and Christie had been over the moon. It was cute. He’d never tell
Christie that, because then they’d probably fight over whether
or not Christie was cute—which he unequivocally was, and that
would be a waste of time.
    “I’ve got your present right here babe…and you’ve got all
night to play with it…I switched shifts with Evan Carrollton, and
sent Frankie over to Nikolina’s with Ally.”
    Robert pushed his chair back. Christie looked down. Robert
knew he was expecting a present to be hidden in Robert’s lap.
    Watching Christie’s eyes go smoky with desire, and his cheeks
flush with color, had Robert’s cock hardening even more. Christie
licked his lips. He continued walking forward. Robert waited
patiently until he got close enough and then—
    “Gotcha, babe.”
    Robert led Christie’s hand down to the end of the ribbon
the ring was dangling from. Christie’s eyes went from smoky to
startled. Robert had deliberately tied the ring loosely, so when
Christie tugged on it, it came loose in his hand.
    Christie brought his hand slowly up to his waist level and
clenched it shut in a fist. Robert took hold of his wrist, turning
his palm up toward the ceiling. Then he uncurled Christie’s
fingers one by one.
    “A ring, Robert?”
    “An engagement ring, Christie. If you’ll take it.”
    Christie swallowed hard. He didn’t answer.
    “Christie Collins, will you marry me?”
    Christie still didn’t say anything.
    Robert’s gut twisted up. He squeezed his eyes shut. Shit. He’d
gotten it wrong somehow. He’d pushed Christie too fast. He—
    “Yes, Robert. Oh, hell, yes.”
    Robert’s eyes popped open. He grabbed Christie’s hips, pulling
him in close. Air flowed into his lungs again, and along with it the
most delicious scent. Christie smelled hot, musky, and faintly of
the cucumber melon body wash he used every morning.
    “Shit Christie, you scared me. I thought you were going to
say no.”
    “Yeah, well. I couldn’t breathe for a minute.”
    Robert looked up into Christie’s eyes. Their blue-green depths
were glittering with a film of moisture. Robert closed his own
eyes to savor the moment, burying his face in Christie’s stomach
and breathing deeply of his fianc├ęs unique scent.
    Goddess, what the scent of cucumbers and melons did to
Robert was nearly cause for a charge of public indecency.
    Christie moaned when Robert nuzzled into the open vee of
the smaller man’s half unbuttoned cargo pants. Robert opened
his mouth to taste the faintly salty skin of Christie’s belly. He
nipped gently at the ridge of Christie’s hip, causing a catch in the
other man’s voice as he spoke.
    “Well, Trooper Lindstrom, what do you plan to do with me
now that you have me?”
    Robert groaned right back. Oh, he knew that tone. That was
the sound of slutty Christie coming out to play. He grabbed the
base of his cock to stop himself from coming too quickly.
    “Why Trooper Lindstrom, I think you like it when I talk
    “You know I do, Christie.”
    Robert pressed a moist kiss to the tender skin accessible above
the low riding cargo pants. Then he bit down, unable to resist the
heady feeling it gave him to leave marks on his man. Christie
shouted and tried to jump back. Robert held on, gentling the
bite into a sucking kiss, holding on until he managed to suck up
a dark mark. Then he allowed Christie to move back slightly. He
admired the visible proof of his connection to his soldier. Then
Robert released Christie’s hips, pulling the other man’s hands
from his shoulders and placing them on the partially undone fly.
    “Finish taking them off babe. I want to taste you.”

Sunday Snogs are always available from the originator of the Sunday Snog, Victoria Blisse.
This weeks offering is a Tasty Italian! Click on the words Tasty Italian to read Victoria's offering!
more snogging goodness can be found here:
1)Wild About that Thing by Lisabet Sarai
2)The Color of Your Sandrine Lopez
3) Double Strokes by Kat Black
4) When a Rose Blooms by Tarah Scott
5) Sunday Snog by Freddy MacKay
6) Pleasure Cruise by Aussiescribbler

Friday, September 16, 2011

Fabulous Friday Five: Five Reasons Why Friday Is Fabulous

1)Did you see the new review by Night Owl Reviews? Wowza!!
2)I got printer long last
3) It's friday, Fabulous Friday
4)I'm making progress in the great box war...the unpacking that seems without end may have an end finally in sight...
5)Tomorrow is chocolate festival day O_o, and it's happening not two blocks from me. Color me excited!

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Wip Wednesday


At the Doc's all morning...and then spent most of afternoon just getting home!


WIP post will be up later, sorry for the delay.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Tuesday's Tasks

Today is an exciting day.

I'm sending Elisa Rolle something I owe her...and it's always a good feeling to get work out of the way and into the hands of those who can take it to the next step, yeah?

You can find all things Elisa right here. Just click on the words, "All things Elisa". Got it? Cool.

Also, am endeavoring to make progress in the great box war.

Er, that would be the one where the moving boxes seem to be multiplying, and my living room/dining room area seems to be shrinking. Hmmpf. I'll get them today though.

Oh, and I get to mail out the print copy of The Soldier & the State Trooper won by Sxswann right here at the Cave. That, for me, is all kinds of cool. :)

I'll pop back in later and let y'all know how it's going.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Manic Monday

The tree I watch out my kitchen window is starting to turn. It's one of those with spinners, and the little helicopters are browning and readying themselves for take off.

I understand how they feel.

I'm waiting too, caught in stasis even though I'm working at breakneck speed.

Two stories to edit this week, three to finish up, and not enough hours in the day. Well, unless I stop sleeping altogether, and really, there's not enough caffeine in the world to make that happen.


In other news?

The kidlet decided a week or so ago that the kitchen window tree is really full of faeries. I think she may be right. And, if not, we're likely to get a helluva good YA novel out of the idea at any rate.

Right, so I'm off to edit/write/dream/unpack some more/clean house/whatever else needs doing.
Have a stellar week everyone.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Sunday Snogging With Evans, Doctor Ryan Bald Eagle and Nikki Lindstrom: an Unedited Excerpt from the next Soldier's Story.

Hey all.
It's that time again. 
Time for a Sunday Snog.
Check out the incomparable Victoria Blisse and the other snoggers by clicking on the words SUNDAY SNOG. 

Easy Peasy, lemon squeezy. 
Read my snog, and then find the others.
And by all means, snog someone, someway today if you possibly can!

Ryan could feel Little Hawk tensing against him. He cast Nikolina an urgent glance over the muscular curve of the smaller man’s shoulder. She cocked a brow at him.
“Nikolina…I bet Little Hawk would like it if you were to taste him. I did interrupt that earlier, didn’t I?”
Ryan pulled Little Hawk even closer, pillowing the other man’s head on his bicep. He curled his body along Little Hawk’s until they were touching at every point of contact possible in this position. Then he put his mouth against the younger man’s ear.
“Do you see, Little Hawk? Look at us.”
He caught the other man’s stormy gaze in the mirror. He sucked the edge of the ear he’d been whispering into between his lips, and then nipped it sharply. Little Hawk jerked against him. In the mirror he could see Nikolina just wrapping her hand around the base of Little Hawk’s length. Ryan pulled his mouth back to breathe more hot words into his lover’s ear.
“Do you see Nikolina? Do you see your Pretty with her hand on your cock, and the sweet curve of her spine where it meets her ass? Do you see her lush pink mouth puckered to kiss the head of your cock?”
Ryan saw Nikolina’s hand flex. Little Hawk moaned. Ryan thrust his hips forward, grinding his substantial erection against the smaller man’s taut ass. He reached forward with the hand that had been on Little Hawk’s hip. Winding his copper skinned fingers into her platinum tresses Ryan tugged lightly on Nikolina’s hair. She turned eyes burning blue like the hottest flame up at him.
“Take him in your mouth, Nikolina.”
Nikolina smiled like a cat eyeing an unwary bird. She slid her eyes from his to meet Little Hawk’s. As her agile tongue darted out to make its first pass across the head glistening with pre-come, Ryan spoke again.
“Do you see how she watches you Little Hawk? She sees you.”
Ryan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning when Little Hawk locked gazes with him. Then, from the corner of his eye Ryan saw Nikolina swallow Little Hawk down. The blue-grey eyes pinning Ryan in place widened, the entire body in front of him stiffened, shook, and then the other man was crying out wordlessly, his eyes falling helplessly shut.
The warm skin quaking against his own and the sounds of Nikolina’s greedy moans conspired to tip Ryan over the edge as well. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, to keep watching Little Hawk even as his orgasm had him howling and thrusting as he pumped out his seed against the other man’s fine ass.
The shaking of both their bodies finally stopped. Ryan felt Little Hawk relax into his arms as his own breathing evened out. In the mirror he could see Nikolina nuzzling Little Hawk’s hip like a cat leaving its scent. It was beautiful and looked almost content. Little Hawk sighed softly, and then his breathing slowed even more. Ryan realized he was asleep.


I was standing guard duty. My company was already on deployment, a train-up for some soldiers getting ready to ship out to Kosovo. My relief was late, and frankly, I was pissed, because chow was going to close soon.
When he came, he was all flustered, not making sense. Finally, he just shook his head and told me to get over to the chow hall asap. Told me I'd find out there.

I walked into the tent, and into the complete suspension of reality as I knew it. People were openly weeping, or looking stoic...but not one of them looked unaffected. I hurried to the line to see if I could scrounge some breakfast.

One of the cooks, I don't remember his name, but can clearly recall the beautiful line of his chocolate skinned face,and that they collectively called themselves the Zoo Crew, turned ravaged eyes on me.

"We're under attack. They blew up the towers."

I had no idea what he was talking about.

"What? What towers?"

Within minutes, chow forgotten, I was back in my commanders tent, my platoon's command post.
He had scrounged a t.v. from somewhere, and I watched as the second tower fell. The female E-5 in my unit was from NYC. She had family there. The sergeant in charge of the laundry was from NYC. His brother, or nephew--someone from his family, worked in one of the towers.

A dark pall lay over the camp. Soldiers went about their assigned tasks, because, well that's what you do when you're a soldier. You just keep going. So the people back home could be safe, and never have to think about what you did, or worry about their safety.

And those utter bastards brought the fight to our soil.

Not cleanly, not honorably.

That wasn't a military installation they attacked.


The fuckers went after our heart.

They struck out at civilians.

Every soldier on the post knew what that meant, and I honestly can't recall a single one who didn't welcome it on that day.

We were going to war, and we were going to teach the dishonorable bastards to never bring the fight to our soil again. No matter how long it took, no matter the cost, they would learn to leave the heart of our nation alone, or we'd die trying to teach them that lesson.


We did die. Lots of us. Or we came back forever changed. But we stood up and said what American soldiers will always say to the people of this nation.

"Don't you worry. I've got your six."

We will always be ready  to protect and defend. That's what soldiers do.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Fire & Ice #5

The incredible heat in Josh’s eyes washed over Simeon. Plunged suddenly into the molten river of need pouring from the incubus’s eyes, Simeon gasped for air. His lungs immediately felt scorched. A frightened wail escaped him.
“Tone it down, Joshua. You’re going to kill him if you bring the heat up that fast.”
Cool tones slid across Simeon’s skin, easing the stinging sensation that had so quickly overwhelmed him. A soft white wing brushed his side. Goosebumps broke out over his whole body. The ferocious heat gentled to soothing warmth.
Simeon reached up across himself to pet the pure white wing draped over his side.
A dark chuckle drew his eyes forward.
Josh smiled, the expression somehow sweet and wicked all at once. His long thick lashes screened his eyes.
“Be careful, Simeon. Nothing gets Rye going faster than stroking his wings.”
Simeon’s breath caught in the back of his throat. He wanted to bury both hands to the wrist in the brilliant white feathers that lay against his side lightly as wisps of silk. His blood pounded in his ears. Simeon could feel each beat of his heart pulsing through his body, pooling hot and heavy in his groin.
“Is…is it allowed?”
Complete silence greeted his query.
Simeon’s blood rushed from his groin to his face. His burgeoning erection wilted while his face flooded with color.
“Say something to him Rye. I know most of your brain has melted down into your cock right about now, but Simeon’s starting to look like he kicked someone’s puppy by accident.”
Simeon’s fingers touched the first feather, slipped along its length caressingly and continued as far down the length of the wing as his current position would allow.
A shaky gasp sounded behind him.
“I-ah-by the sweet Lord-yes, right there…I. Yes. Okay. T-touch me. Touch me more. Please, Simeon.”
Wicked dark eyes laughed into Simeon’s for a split second.
“Turn over, luv. Give his wings a proper pet. You’ll see what I mean.”
Simeon nodded.
Turning over, he gasped at his first glimpse of Ryan. The angel’s face, transformed by the mask of pleasure encasing it, glowed with a cool white light. Josh’s voice rasped in his ear, the warm moisture of the incubus’s breath ticking Simeon’s ear.
“All that from one little pet. Imagine what he’ll look like with your cock in him, Simeon. He’ll cry out, begging you to fuck him harder every time you touch his wings. He’ll let you do anything, and thank you afterward.”
Simeon’s cock sprang to full hardness.
He sucked in a lungful of air.
A stinging bite nipped at his neck, and then Josh’s voice was whispering to him again.
“Do it. Take him.”
Josh’s hand reached over Simeon, grasped Ryan’s upper leg and drew it forward over both Simeon’s hip and his own.
“Look Simeon.”
Simeon looked. Josh’s fingers glistened suddenly, lube appearing from out of the air to coat them.
Josh laughed roughly.
“You mean Unholy, don’t you little elemental?”
Simeon tipped his head back. Josh’s eyes swam with some old hurt. Simeon turned his head further, kissing the underside of Josh’s jaw.
“No. I meant Holy. All things of beauty and love are holy to the Lady I worship.”
Josh shuddered.
Ryan’s eyes snapped open.
“If you two don’t stop philosophizing and start fucking, I’m going to lose my mind.”
Josh quirked an eyebrow upwards.
“Well. We can’t have that happening, Rye.”
Ryan cried out. Simeon glanced down to find that Josh had two long fingers buried in the angel’s back passage. Josh held them still for a moment, and then began to stroke them in and out with slow deliberate motions. Ryan moaned, long and low, and needy. Simeon shook. His cock was bursting with blood, droplets of pre-come leaking from the tip. His balls were snugged up  hard and tight against his body. Simeon blew out a shaking breath, concentrating on not coming.
“Josh, now, I need Simeon now. I’m stretched enough. I need him in me.”
Josh pulled his fingers out.
Simeon fit the head of his cock to Ryan’s loosened hole. This was the best dream he’d ever had.
A velvety black wing spread over his side as he pressed inch by inch into Ryan’s tight passage.
“You’re not dreaming this time, Simeon.”

Contest Winner

Hey Sxswann,
you won the contest...but I need a Snail Mail addy to send the book to! :)
You can email me cherienoel (at) yahoo (dot) com and give me an address to send your book to.

For the others who played, sorry you didn't win, but stay tuned, as there are sure to be more contests in the future.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Friday Five: Flash Postponed til after hand is X-rayed

Five reasons Fridays rule?
1)The Awesome Eric Goltz from Twisted Tiki Tattoo sat with me and answered some questions to help me get into the head of Phillip, the tattoo artist MC from my upcoming novel, The Flight of a Thousand Cranes.
2)The Stupendous Anne Kwitchoff, Landlady extraordinaire, answered my clogged toilet distress call within an hour and had the plummer here ASAP. She rocks as a landlady.
3)The suspiciously bruised place on my right hand is on my right hand, and not my left...I am left handed.
4)My critique group is fully amazing.
5)I received my author copies of the print edition of my book today.

Okay, I'll check the entries in the contest for a print copy of S& ST in the morning before I head off to the hospital, so the winner can contact me with email/snail mail information.

And by the way?


My hand flipping hurts.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Thursday Think Tank:Organizing Creativity (pfffffft.) Organized Chaos


So, besides the fact that I am the proud room-mate(?), or, er...den mother to both the world's cutest kidlet and the world's freakiest/cutest hamster...I gots stuff to talk about today.

Serious stuff.

No, really.

I've been pondering (heh, do ya like how I slipped that evocative word in there? I do.)...where was I?

Oh yeah. I've been pondering the nature of the whole writing thing, and I can to a conclusion.

Yeah, one besides me needing more coffee.

A smart writer is one who can either deal with the business aspects of writing, or, if that's not their cuppa, has the good sense to hire someone else to do it...and then gets out of the way.

I love hanging out with my muse. I love characters who bug me to tell their story. I love stories that grab me by the throat and just will not let go. Stories like that rock, both as a writer and as a reader.

So, I try to deal in Organized Chaos.

Writing Time and Family Time.

I have a plan of sorts for what to write when...and then the muse whispers, or the kidlet is home from school and pttttft, the best laid plans of carnivorous hamsters and highly caffeinated writers go right out the window. Heh. There are just a few things I cling to to keep the general structure sound.

!1! The kidlet comes first.

!2! Then anything with a deadline.

I like to keep things simple.

How do you organize your creativity?

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Work in Progress Wednesday: Fire & Ice # 4

Simeon snuggled deeper into the warmth surrounding him.
“Jus’ ‘nother minute.”
A hard hand clamped down on his left hip, pulling him into full contact with the heated form at his back.
Simeon sighed.
“So warm…”
The deep, rich voice he recalled from earlier fell like liquid sunshine against Simeon’s ears. He shivered, an electric prickle sweeping across his skin.
“You see, Rye? I told you it needed the both of us.”
The other voice spoke from in front of Simeon. A second, equally strong hand gripped Simeon’s hip, just above the first. His leg was lifted, and a muscular, hair roughened thigh pressed between his. Amusement laced the hypnotic tones of the man’s lilting voice.
“Yes, yes, Josh. You’re right again. Be a love and give me a sip of the tea so I can feed it to him.”
Simeon heard a muffled clink, followed by a slurping sound, then blazing hot lips were pressed to his. He pressed forward, his mouth opening under the gentle pressure exerted against it. The voice behind him sounded right against his ear.
“Get ready to swallow Simeon. Rye is giving you a sip of his special tea. Nasty stuff, but it’ll help you feel better.”
Laughter echoed in the voice.
Warm liquid poured into Simeon’s mouth.
This was ambrosia.
It tasted like the tea Simeon had once when—
He opened his eyes, swallowing the delicious sweet and salty fluid in his mouth.
Simeon’s mouth opened again.
“You’re an angel.”
He blinked at the being in front of him.
Feathery softness brushed his cheek. Simeon turned his head, breaking eye contact with the angel. Arching above him in a sheltering arc were two huge wings. One pure white, the other so black hints of blue gleamed iridescently along the curve. Simeon reached up, running wondering fingers over both.
“Angels? What are angels doing in my bed?”
A sharp crack of laughter boomed out behind Simeon. The callused hand at his hip ran up his side, over his shoulder and around his neck. Long fingers curled around his chin, pulling him further around. Simeon looked into the eyes he’d yet to properly capture in a drawing.
“Oh, Sweetness, I’m no angel.”
Simeon’s heart hammered in his chest.
He feasted his eyes on the most wickedly beautiful face he’d ever beheld.
No. This was no angel.
A hand reached over his shoulder to smack the speaker sharply on his shoulder, just where a star shaped tattoo graced it. Simeon wanted to lick that tattoo. His mouth watered.
“Ow! Dammit, Rye, I’ll ask JC to revoke your angel status myself if you keep beating me!”
Husky laughter answered that outburst.
Simeon leaned closer, wiggling around to fully face the black winged creature.
“W-what are you? You look like…a dangerous angel.”
A burning, knowing smile insinuated itself on the beings face.
“I’m an incubus my pet. Part angel, part demon.”
Simeon swallowed rapidly.
“That explains the dreams then.”
Fingers ran up Simeon’s spine. A soft kiss brushed the nape of his neck.
“Joshua, stop trying to frighten Simeon out of falling in love with you. He won’t be able to help doing so any more than I could, and speaking from experience, life is a whole lot more pleasant when you don’t.”
Joshua’s eyes flared, filling with flashes of yellow.
He turned them back to Simeon, and the little ice elemental thought he might faint again. 

Don't forget the Flash!

Hey folks,
don't forget the yummy goodness going on all-over the web, via the Silver Flashers.
Here's a list of where you can find them.

West Thornhill (m/m)

Chris Quinton (m/m)

Victoria Blisse (m/f)

Elyzabeth M. VaLey (m/f) <<<virgin!!!>>>

Monday, September 5, 2011

Wanna Win a Signed Copy of The Soldier & the State Trooper?

Be one of the first 15 people to read both  my free read Kiss & Tell, and at least the free sample of my novel The Soldier & the State Trooper, and then leave a (preferably positive, lol) comment for Kiss & Tell on the Allromanceebook site , and one for The Soldier & the State Trooper on Amazon's site  and you're entered.

Easy, Peasy, Lemon-Squeezy.

No purchase necessary to enter, lol.

Kiss & Tell is also available as a free download over at Goodreads.

The links to the sites you need to leave the comments on are right in the body of this blog. Just click on the words Allromanceebooks site or Amazon's site, leave your comment there, and then let me know that you did so by leaving a comment here on my blog with your email addy so I can let you know if you win.

The contest will be decided by a random drawing of those who enter, and will be open from today, Labor Day, until Friday September 9th. Good Luck, and if you have any problems leaving your comments at either site, just drop me a note here with your email, and I'll give you a shout to explain!

Monday Again

Hello, everyone. Well, here we are, Monday again. Today (for those of us in the US) is a holiday, so not quite as manic as some of my Mondays are. As always, a lot of things on the agenda, but good stuff.

Family time, and if the universe smiles on me, finishing the unpacking.

However, due to some unforeseen circumstances cropping up in my personal life, I'm not going to be able to keep up with writing the weekly Silver Flashes.

Don't worry, I will keep  up with Ryan, Joshua, and Simeon's story, though it may go bi-weekly, depending on how my schedule falls out after this week. I'll simply go back to posting those bits of flash fiction on Fridays, under my Fabulous Friday umbrella.

Also, if you managed to get around to visit the other Flashers last week, and especially if you didn't, please be sure to pop in on them this week, and keep checking them out each Wednesday as they going about creating amazing stories for you. I'll try to remember to post their links once I see them posted. If I forget, feel free to leave me a comment on that day's blog asking for the links. I'd hate for any of you to miss out on the Silver Flash fun just because I can't keep up with it right now.

Oh, just had a moment of semi-lucidity. If I should forget to post the links, you should always be able to find them on Ryssa Edwards site. It's a nifty way to spend a little time on any given Wednesday, and Ryssa's site is well worth visiting in it's own right.

Have a happy Labor Day!

Cherie Noel

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Saturday...hangin' with the Rhinoman

Rhinoman, for those of you in the know, is my main squeeze these days.

Er, not really.
He's freaking tiny, and if I squeezed him he'd prolly pop.
And not in a good way.
Rhino, aka the Rhinoman, is my daughter's pet dwarf hamster.

He's so frickin' cute it's ludicrous.

That is exactly almost what he looks like. Except his butt is pink and naked like a baboon. I know, I laugh every time I look at him. So Rhino man and I are hangin' and he is telling me to hurry the freak up and write a story with a hamster shifter. O_o



How do you tell a face that cute that small animal shifters aren't sexy?

So now I gotta come up with a hamster shifter story. 

*rolls eyes*

Oh well.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Fabulous Friday Five: Five Reasons Why Friday Is Fabulous

1) My new story is writing itself.
2)  My Christmas Story got done on time for the submission deadline!
3)It's sunny and I'm taking my daughter shopping.
4)I just finished paying the bills / one icky chore out of the path that leads to the writing cave.
5) My daughter is too cute for words. Be jealous, cause she is covered in awesomesauce, lol, and sparks many ideas for my YA series.