Raif

For those who have read Secrets, you know the story is told from Leah’s POV. This page is dedicated to telling the beginning of the story from an array of characters…

~ Raif ~

Raif crouched between the lush, fragrant rose bushes and watched as David’s truck drove away. Not even the throne pulling harshly at his shiny blond hair could dampen the feeling of excitement raging through him. Raif was as ready to get David out of his life as Donovan was to get out of town.

David had been a throne in his side since he came to Serenity twenty-three years ago. Thanks to Judith, he’d become a permanent fixture while Raif had been busy in New York setting up a construction company for Donovan. Why a tantalizing woman like Judith wanted such a depressing man to be part of her life was beyond him. All the man ever did was brood and work.

He’d worked some much in fact, Donovan no longer trusted Raif to handle any of his financial affairs. Sure David was brilliant, but that didn’t mean he had to control every economic aspect of Donovan’s life. His total involvement in every venture Donovan invested in and Raif’s exclusion from it had become the main point of content between them.

Besides work, Donovan made it a point over the years to keep him close. He assured Raif it was only because he needed to retain David’s complete trust. Until a few nights ago he’d harbored serious doubts. Trust was overrated and no amount of butt kissing was worth what Donovan had been doing all these years.

Or so he thought.

All was explained the night Donovan finally came clean. David’s half-breed daughter was to serve as payment for the years her father had been in Donovan’s keep. With a mother like hers, Donovan knew she would grow up pure, capable and loving. He also knew she’d be completely ignorant to what she was. Once his plan was set in motion she’d need a savior. Donovan stood ready to be just that.

“Good riddance,” he mumbled as the taillights faded from view.

He emerged from his hiding place to find Judith. He knew getting Michael to listen wouldn’t be hard. Not many can resist a chance to humor the younger generations. Especially when the one listening made the one talking.

There was no doubt in Donovan’s or Raif’s mind that Michael would be able to ignore such a rare creature. Raif’s part was to keep Michael thinking he’d turned his back on Donovan, do whatever Michael asked until the girl was safely behind the doors of Serenity.

Time away from home was worth it if Donovan got what he wanted. David disappeared. And he would finally be able to claim Judith as his own.

Character from Secrets, Book One of the Serenity Series.

 

TAG!! You’re it!

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I was tagged in a blog post by a fellow author, Frantiska Oliver. The challenge is to answer the following questions and then tag other authors. This is how authors play tag and, since I don’t run unless it is life threatening, this is my favorite version of Tag! You’re it!   

What are you working on right now?

At the moment I’m working on three different projects. The first, rewrites for the fourth book in the Serenity Series, Consequences. Since the release for the third book, Tribulations is right around the corner I want to continue Leah and Raine’s journey ASAP. Their story gets more and more interesting as time goes on. The second project happens to be a tie into the Serenity Series if only in part. Bittersweet revolves around a creature previously unknown to the supernatural world and will make it’s debut within the pages of book four. The third has turned into so much more than I thought it could when I started work on it. Heaven On Earth will be the first in a chronicle of angels who have been tasked with death. The Afterlife Chronicles will follow a corp of Reapers, Hunters, Seekers and Sentries as they ferry souls to face their fates.   

 

How do your stories differ from others in its genre?

I try to ground my characters in reality as much as I can. Even my vampires and werewolves have one foot in the human world and one in the supernatural. I want each one of them to appeal to the readers, maybe remind them of someone they know or even see certain qualities in themselves. Being able to touch (for lack of a better word) the heart of the characters is a gift. I love it when authors make me care about the characters they create. I can only hope I’m able to do the same for those who pick up my work.

Why do I write what I do?

Paranormal has always appealed to me. I love being able to play with myths and legends regarding different creatures and bend them into the characters I’ve always imagined them to be. There’s a certain amount of mystery surrounding them. Picking through the mystery and creating beings who have heart beats, feelings, agendas (be they good or bad) has been the most fulfilling thing I’ve done so far. Being published is awesome, don’t get me wrong, but without those amazing characters my stories are nothing.

How does the writing process work?

Most of the time it starts at night. I do my best writing when darkness falls and the house is quiet. No kids, no phone calls to field. No interruptions. I gather a cold can of Coke, my BIC Atlantis mechanical pencil, paper and my laptop and get to work.  

 

Now it’s my turn and I get tag three (there are more, but they have already been tagged) talented authors I highly respect respect and look up to. Jason McIntyre, Rebecca Hamilton, John Hardy Bell and guess what? “Tag you’re it!” 

Water Lily

Water Lily

By Dawn Kirby

white_lady_by_reem_u-d34wyry

“Sanna is yours,” Henry said happily. He’d been waiting for this all week and now that the young Duke had finally asked he was elated. His wealth as well as his name was about to grow exponentially, but first he had to part with a piece of his own estate. He slapped his future son-in-law on the shoulder and led him to the table. “Let’s discuss the dowry with a little wine, shall we?”

“That will not be necessary,” Aidan said quickly. He’d spent weeks getting to know Sanna and now that she was his, he wanted nothing more than to take her and return home.

“The wine or the discussion?” Henry asked.

“Either.” Aidan looked past Henry and into the garden where Sanna sat waiting to hear her father’s answer. “I wish only to be the one to tell her you have handed her over to me.”

“Granted,” he chuckled. “And the wedding?”

“Not here.” Aidan watched as the air left Henry’s body. Only when color returned to his face did he continue. “I meant no disrespect. I have been away from home for so long I wish to return as soon as possible. My hope is that Sanna will return with me.”

“Who am I to say no?” Henry said, shrugging his shoulders. “I myself have been weeks on end away from home. It is most unpleasant regardless of the comforts one’s host may provide.”

“Aye. You have been more than gracious. My family will of course take on all financial responsibilities of the ceremony upon our return. You and your wife are welcome to travel with us.”

“Nonsense!” Henry almost shouted. Arriving with the newly engaged couple may well force him to part with a handsome sum of money. “Just send word. We shall make the journey then. I am sure your parents would like the opportunity to speak with her for a time without the interference of her own loved ones.”

“They may,” Aidan said, bowing his head respectfully. His gaze moved to the blond haired beauty, who now sat absently picking the petals off one of her stepmother’s favorite white rose bushes. “There are many layers I have yet to unfold.”

Henry saw the look in the young man’s eye and smiled. He himself had once loved like that. Sanna’s mother was the only woman he’d ever loved. After she passed he’d taken on the role of both mother and father until the day he realized his little girl was blooming into a woman. Several women came and went over the years. None could compare to the love he lost. Over the years he stopped looking for love and settled. Now he was content to have his needs met and his house in order.

“Go,” he said waving the young man toward the garden. “She’s waiting. I am afraid my wife may not have many blooms left if we draw this out any longer.”

Aidan bowed his head respectfully as his future father in law left the room. As soon as the man’s heavy footsteps faded, he hurried to the garden, kneeling in front of Sanna with a huge smile on his handsome face. She smiled back, dismissing her maid with a nod.

“It seems you are now spoken for,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

“And who pray tell has asked for my hand?” she teased, batting her sapphire blue eyes innocently. She brushed a lock of black hair from his forehead, revealing a pair of intense green eyes.

“Though many men have made the request during these past few weeks, your father has accepted mine.”

“I can think of no other man I would want.”

“Then it is a good thing I asked! I would not want such a beautiful young woman to be unhappy.” He stood up and looked around the garden for the woman Sanna had dismissed moments ago. He’d had an uneasy feeling when he’d met her for the first time. As he and Sanna grew closer, so did the uneasiness. “Your father has granted my request to return home as well as allowing us to host the ceremony at my parent’s estate. Will you still leave with me?”

“Of course,” Sanna answered, standing to look at him. “I understand your desire to return home. I’ll not request that you stay here a minute longer than you wish to.”

“Thank you,” he said kissing her delicate fingers. “I would like to leave within the hour. Can you say your goodbyes within that time?”

She smiled warmly. “If you so command it, I shall.”

“Good. I’ll go ready my men and my horses. You go ready yourself.”

As he watched her disappear into the house a sense of relief washed over him. He’d been here long enough to see the lust that burned in the eyes of the men who looked at her. He’d also seen the jealousy in the woman who lusted after those men. Sanna was so naïve, so trusting she didn’t notice the looks of contempt they shot her when they thought no one was looking.

Once Aidan had announced his plans to ask for her hand one of his men had taken to following her while she rode into the village with her stepmother. When asked why he simply said he couldn’t ignore the warning signs. The signs being the catty whispers he’d overheard regarding Sanna’s expected life span. As soon as Aidan got word, he thanked the man, promoted him and assigned him solely to her, though Sanna still didn’t know.

“You’re leaving?!” her maid asked. “Now? Right now?”

“Right now,” Sanna answered happily.”Aidan’s ready to go home. He misses it so.”

“But that leaves you no time,” she complained. “There are so many things you need to gather.”

“Don’t be silly, Crete,” Sanna coaxed. “My trunk will hold my clothes. There’s no need to take much more than that. You’ve seen his tents. They’re more than suitable. Everything else will be provided once we arrive.”

“And the wedding?” Crete asked curiously. Would there be time to try to come between them?

“It will be held there.” She began folding her belongings into her trunk. Since most of what she owned consisted of clothes and a few pieces of her mother’s jewelry packing didn’t take long. “There now, all set. Would you please see that this gets where it should be. I need to go find my father and tell him goodbye.”

No sooner than she’d turned to leave the room than she felt a warm sensation spread across the back of her head. Something heavy fell to the ground behind her. Then came pain. Her head felt as though it had been split in two. She tried to roll over on her back, but she couldn’t move. Blood seeped onto the ground, surrounding her. She saw Crete’s small feet run past her and into the hallway.

“Good,” she thought. “She’ll get help.”

Minutes later four more sets of feet including Crete’s rushed back into the room.

“I can’t believe you did it,” one of the women said. Sanna thought she recognized the voice as Crete’s sister, but her head was now so fuzzy she couldn’t be sure. “How? Why did-”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Bea. What would you have done?” Crete asked coolly. “She was about to leave here forever with the man I love.”

“Don’t be silly,” Bea snorted. “He’s in love with her. Everybody sees it.”

“He just needs time to see all he feels for her is lust. Maybe with her head split open like it is, he won’t even feel that.”

“Maybe that’s all any of them need,” Another woman scoffed. The rough tone gave away her identity as her stepmother’s maid, Sally. “We should parade her out the gates and see if they still treat her like a queen.”

“Those men are dogs,” the fourth woman said. Her sweet voice belonged to Alex, Sanna’s new maid. “All they’d do is cover her head with a dirty old sheet and use her body. That’s all they want anyway.”

“Perhaps we should let them,” Crete squealed. “The tavern outside the village would be the perfect place for that!”

Mortified by what she was hearing, she forced herself onto her side. The four maids she’d come to trust more than anyone were standing over her with disgusted smiles on their faces; glad to see the pain, fear and confusion in her eyes. Where had all this hate come from? Why hadn’t she ever seen it before?

“Why?” was all she could get out.

Crete knelt down beside her and smiled. “Why? You act as though you can’t see the fire burning in their eyes when they look at you. You act as though it makes no difference to you that you have been promised to a man meant for me. Aidan may not know it yet, but he was destined for more than you. His future lies with me!”

“What fire?” Sanna cried. Her father had always told her NOT to look in the eyes of his men, of the people who inhabited the village. Regardless of how she felt, he believed they were beneath them and should be treated accordingly. “Crete, I don’t understand. What are you-”

Her question was cut short when Crete grabbed her by the wrists. Sally and Bea lifted her feet off the floor and motioned for Alex to open the door. As they dragged her from the bedroom something popped at the base of her neck. The warm sensation grew as well as the pain. It was so intense now she didn’t want to feel the left side of her face anymore. Sharp, tingly sensations, much like hot needles, coursed throughout her body. It felt as though fire was consuming her from the inside. Unexpectedly numbness took hold of part of her head as well as her throat, rendering her voice useless. Though it terrified her, none of the other women seemed to give the bright trail of blood the gash on her head left a second thought.

Sanna’s father’s voice rang through the air as they passed the dining hall. She tried desperately to call out, but no sound would come. Before she could try again Alex ripped a piece of cloth from their tunic and shoved it in her mouth. Soon they were headed out the back door. Sanna glanced around frantically looking for anyone who could help. No one was there. No doubt they were all in the stables making sure Aidan’s horses had everything they would need before they left.

The women dragged her further away from the house. She watched in disbelief as they passed through the back gates and onto the rough dirt road that led to the lake on the far side of her father’s property. She tried to will her body to fight back, but whatever Crete had hit her with had left her head swollen and her body unable to move. The pain however was ever present.

Crete wasn’t going to stop. Not now. The girl was alone and helpless for once in her life. Not to take full advantage of this amazing opportunity would be a sin. Who’d miss her besides her father anyway? Certainly not his wife. That woman hated Sanna from the moment she stepped foot into his house. None of the women she knew here or in the village would miss her either. In fact, they’d be happy to see her gone. The men would finally see them instead of comparing every female who crossed their path to the rich bitch she had incapacitated. There was Aidan of course, but given time and a little extra effort on her part he’d forget all about his beautiful intended.

Sanna’s upper body was dropped carelessly to the ground as Crete’s head turned right then left, scanning the area for any sign of prying eyes. The maids released Sanna’s feet to do a quick search of their own. When Crete turned to face her, a wicked smile gracing her thin lips, she knew there would be no one there to help. That’s when her doomed fate hit her in full. Tears sprang to her eyes. Her insides began to shake uncontrollably. She was at their mercy.

“Shall we?” Crete asked, placing a hard kick directly to Sanna’s temple.

For what felt like hours Sanna endured a horrific beating. Her eyes were so swollen she could no longer see. Crete had made sure of that. Blood had pooled in her ears so thickly thanks to the repeated hits to her face and head she could only hear the sound of her own gradually slowing heartbeat. Huge clumps of her long blond hair lay on the ground around her. Pieces of her dress were either stuck to her bloody body or left to blow into the field behind them.

She knew without a doubt the rock that had been dropped on her ankles so many times had broken bones. Before her hearing had been cut off she’d heard them crack. Her ribs were cracked, making what breath she could manage to draw feel painfully un-necessary. Short gasps were her norm now. Sally’s little knife had come in handy for them. Sanna had felt every cut they made across her torso and chest. Thankfully shock had taken over and the sensations of the blade sliding into flesh were merely a dull ache. She hadn’t even flinched when they tried to slit her throat.

Only when the women were satisfied their work was done did they drag her body into the water to die. They knew she was broken beyond repair. It may take hours for her to succumb to her intended tomb, but she would eventually give up. What did they care how it happened? Drowning, exhaustion, simply giving up.

Sanna watched them go, relief and regret filling every fiber of her being. This was her future? To die alongside a lake she and her father used to come to for peace? The same lake Aidan had let his love for her be known? This lake, where so many wonderful memories were made was to be her deathbed?

With her last breath she pleaded to return, begging the powers that be to let her stay, if only in spirit. Her body may not be of use to her now, but her soul could live on. They had had no qualms about killing her, what if they decided another woman was a threat? What would become of those poor souls? What would become of her father; of Aidan?

“You may stay,” a soft, melodic voice whispered. “But know this. Your home is the water. Your boundary the fields. You may never again set foot inside your father’s home. Your wish is to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Do so. Walk these shores whenever you like, but do not abuse the privilege my dear Water Lily. Revenge was not a part of your request.”

 

Originally posted @ www.paranormalutopia.com – May, 2011 http://paranormalutopia.com/2011/03/water-lily311/

Not Your Traditional Book Club

Guest post by David Lowry

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Have you ever been so busy that you don’t have time to attend every book club function you want? Do you love to read but haven’t in a while and don’t even know where to begin when looking for a new book? Do you like fantasy, science fiction, paranormal, erotica or anything in between? Do you want to find others that like the same types of books you do or discover new authors?

If so then Club Fantasci is the book club for you.  A little different from your average meet once a month at the coffee shop book club, Club Fantasci meets once a month on Google+ and we talk about the Book of the Month, Wine of the Month and the music that each host feels best relates to the book we are reviewing that month.

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In Club Fantasci we will discuss speculative fiction and it literary merits. The marketing of it, its effectiveness, and whether or not it shifts to much from it expected outcome from it genre. We wants to bring our members a deeper understanding of not just story telling, but what goes into the book itself on every level.

Our first Google+ hangout is August 31st at 7:00 pm CST. You can interact with us on our individual twitter accounts @lowryagency, @ciaraballintyne, @dionnelister and @ShannonMillion to discuss your views on the book or just to have fun with us live. The video feed will be live on the Club Fantasci website.

More about the club:

Club Fantasci is a book club taking the stigma out of speculative fiction. We want to expose you to the full gamut of the speculative fiction genre, including science fiction, hard SF, militaristic SF, high/epic fantasy, dark fantasy, dystopian, cyberpunk, steampunk, space opera, paranormal, urban fantasy, SFF romance and erotica, and everything in between.

We want to educate readers on good writing in speculative fiction, entertain with witty banter, and above all have a fantastic time. Fiction need not be literary to be well-written, and good writing need not be boring or mundane! We promise you we’ll do our best to bring you a good book every month, and if not, we’ll tell you why it’s not! For a bit of light fun, we’ll also be featuring a wine of the month and picking a song that best fits the book. So bring your book, keep that wineglass topped up, and don’t forget your i-pod!

Your hosts are David Lowry, Dionne Lister (author of Shadows of the Realm), entertainment personality and model Shannon Million, and Ciara Ballintyne – your resident fantasy writer/lawyer extraordinaire combo!

Club Fantasci is also featuring a ‘Wine of the Month’ – August’s pick is a 2011 ‘Suited Muscat’ from Sort This Out Cellars Winery in Solvang, CA. Club members are entitled to a discount – check out the club website for more information.

You can learn more about us by:

Joining our group on Goo dreads

Liking our Page on Facebook

Checking out our Website

 

***Thanks so much to David for allowing me to help spread the word!*** 

Blessing Within Sin

“How does one put true excitement into words?”

For days now I’ve asked myself that question. My ultimate conclusion has led to this inevitable answer; it’s virtually impossible. No matter how many clever quotes I pull up, exclamation points, fancy words or all caps I use none will ever suffice to truly express my emotional state as it stands at this very moment.  

Why so excited?   Because I’ve been asked to be a part of something amazing.

What could that “something” be?    A multi-genre collaboration encompassing each of the Seven Deadly Sins. That’s right…No story will be the same. No intermingling characters will weave their way through each individual sin. Each story will be told in a Voice unlike the one that came before. Each Voice as unique as the writer behind the words. 

Who might these “Voices” belong to?    Six of the most gifted and talented writers I have had the pleasure of “meeting”. Though we’ve never met in person, their individual love for words shines through in every story they write. They embrace the art with a level of passion I can only hope to one day achieve. 

How did I get so lucky?   Lord only knows. 

When?   In the months to come…

I ask you now to take a few minutes out of your day to meet each of these Literary Wonders…. I could wow you with flashy words, but I assure you these six writers can, without a doubt, stand on their own.

Michelle Picarella…Sloth http://shellypicarella.wordpress.com @ShellyPicarella … South Carolina

 Stephen Penner…Anger/Wrath http://www.stephenpenner.com @StephenPenner …Washington      

Phlegyas, the Mind Juggler…Gluttony http://www.phlegyas.com @theMindjuggler … Athens/London

Vickie Adair…Pride http://www.vickieadair.com                      @Vickie_Adair …Texas

A.T. Russell…Greed http://www.atrussell.com             @ATRUSSELLWRITER …Illinois

TymothyLongoria…Envy http://tymothylongoria.wordpress.com @TymothyLongoria …Texas

And then there’s me…Lust …@SecretsWriter …Texas

Thank you Shelly for allowing me to be a part of this outstanding group of writers.