Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Save My Soul by Zoe Winters


From the Amazon.com product description:

"All he’s asking for is her soul.


After buying the antebellum home she’s fantasized about since childhood, Anna Worthington discovers Luc, a dangerously seductive incubus who has been trapped in the house by a fifty-year-old curse. To rid herself of her problem house guest she’ll call on a priest, gypsies, ghost hunters, and the coven of witches from lust bunny hell. All she has to do is resist him long enough to break the spell so they can go their separate ways. If she doesn’t, she could die. And that would be the best case scenario."
 
I had planned to read the first chapter and then finish another book in my to-read pile, but Save My Soul would not go down without a fight. It started as a haunted house mystery, morphed into a steamy paranormal romance, and finished strong with an ending that wrapped up all the plot threads in a nice, neat, sexy bow of snarky and surprising fun.


The plot is engaging. The sex scenes are hot and full of tension. The prose is tight and laugh-out-loud funny in places.

My only regret is that I tore through this book in barely two days and now have to wait for the next book in the Preternaturals series.
 
Physics. What a pain.
 
Forget the stars on this one. Remember that scene in Buffy the Vampire Slayer in which Buffy and Spike have crazy sex so hard that they destroy a fucking building? Yeah you do. That was a great scene. I give Save My Soul five of those.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Public Display - Flash Fiction Dare

Through an odd twist of events on Twitter, I found myself on the receiving end of a dare to write a scene containing an inappropriate bit of intamacy in a public place. This is my somewhat tardy entry for said dare.

Read this and let me know what you think. Then, be sure to visit the other guilty parties and their naughty short stories:

Anabel
http://nemone7.livejournal.com/

Monica
http://tinyurl.com/3cosltt



Public Display

Bruscetta’s was not an exclusive restaurant; it was an impossible restaurant. There was no sign outside, no number in a phone book, and a minimum one-year waiting list. Only twelve tables filled the dining area.


Lucky patrons met with the chef, Alberto, when they entered. He would speak with them for a moment and then bring them the best meal they had ever eaten with no guidance or menu whatsoever.

It was like magic.

On this particular evening twelve enchanted couples feasted on dishes of exotic duck, eggplant, steak, pasta, and seafood that had been swimming only hours earlier. They drank white and Merlot wines that were older than they were. They savored the food and tried to forget about the sobering bill to come.

It was a typical evening at an atypical restaurant.

That changed during the main course with the opening of the front door.

A woman stepped into the dim candlelight of the room. She was pale with long, black hair that flowed down her shoulders. Her simple yet elegant black dress draped just above her knees. She was beautiful with an air of fierceness that showed through her emerald eyes even in the darkness.

Her escort closed the door behind her and glanced around the room with the kind of steely indifference with which a wolf surveys a flock of sheep. Where she was beautiful and elusive, he was wild and aggressive. From his shaggy sideburns to his old leather jacket, he did not seem like the type to accompany the woman, especially to a place like Bruscetta’s.

Alberto greeted the pair with his melodic accent that had somehow remained unaffected by many years away from his homeland. He immediately placed a thirteenth table against the wall.

The two sat and stared at each other, oblivious to the rest of the room.

Given the usual difficulty in obtaining a table, there were a few murmurs of discontent among the other patrons at their arrival, but they kept their dissatisfaction as quiet as possible.

After a few moments, Alberto returned and placed a rack of lamb in front of the man and a single glass of blood-red wine in front of the woman.

The conversation among the other couples changed from delight over the food to open speculation about the newcomers. They weren’t famous. They didn’t seem to be foreign dignitaries or local politicians. It was finally decided that they must simply have been friends of the chef.

While reaching this consensus, the others continued to observe the couple. The pair spoke low and stared directly into each other’s eyes, smiling and laughing occasionally. The man ate the rack of lamb, quite savagely, never offering any to the woman.

She didn’t seem to mind his poor manners. In fact, at one point, she reached across the table and touched his hand while he ate. With her eyes closed, she giggled and licked her lips slowly. He chewed purposefully, savoring every taste of the succulent meat and watching her reaction. She closed her mouth and pouted, then touched her chest when he swallowed, urging him to take another bite.

She gulped a bit of the wine, spilling a little on her cheek. The man wiped it away with his fingers and she grabbed his hand and licked the wine from his skin while staring into his eyes.

A few of the other couples looked away.

She pulled his finger into her mouth and a drop of crimson ran down the man’s hand. Blood?

The woman’s surly companion groaned as if in reply to the unspoken question on everyone’s mind.

Yes, blood.

The couples who looked away before, now looked on without hesitation.

The man reached under the table and grasped the woman’s chair. She released his hand with a purr and he effortlessly dragged her chair around until she sat right next to him.

He put his arm around her and leaned closer. She looked away and took a sip of wine. He smiled at her avoidance and touched her knee. Fingers slid up her alabaster skin and under her silk dress. A hint of smile crossed her lips as he leaned closer, brushing his oddly sharp teeth against the nape of her neck.

She turned back to him and shifted her body to face his. She crossed her legs and then brushed the calf of her dangling left leg gently over his groin.

The man growled audibly.

Then, they kissed. It was no quick peck of affection. It was the long, slow, lingering kiss of two lovers who knew what they wanted and were prepared to take it if necessary, regardless of the audience.

When they stopped, the man placed a wad of hundred dollar bills on the table and stood, still staring at the woman, feasting on her with his gaze. She smiled, relishing in the power she seemed to have over him.

She stood as well and rubbed her shapely backside against the prominent bulge on full display in the front of his trousers, drawing another growl from him.

They quietly left, leaving a room full of gaping jaws. A husband growled playfully at the wife. A girlfriend crossed her legs and brushed against the boyfriend.

Alberto returned and asked if anyone was ready for dessert.

Instead, twelve different couples all requested their checks as they suddenly had far better places to be.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

India Drummond: Eight inappropriate questions with the Ordinary Angels scribe


Today, I have the pleasure of interviewing India Drummond. Her debut novel, Ordinary Angels, is now available in eBook form everywhere.


Poor India. She agreed to answer my questions. Little did she know how little I know. I took this opportunity to ask her highly inappropriate questions about the angels in her story. Let the awkwardness commence.



India: I said I’d answer anything, and I meant it! Bring it.

MT: Your book brings angels down to Earth and puts them in the dirt with the rest of us. Do angels get tired of being thought of as chubby little winged babies flying around in cloth diapers or do they, in a freaky way, get off on it?

India: Understanding what angels are is a big part of the story. Zoe, the main character, has all the preconceived ideas, and Alexander, the main angel dude, has to tell her to forget everything she’s been taught, myths and Bible stories. I intentionally made angels unlike any human mythology. They’re part angel, part demon, part dragon… they are their own creatures and what humans know about them are all wrong. I love this because it let me write my own rules.

MT: How do angels feel about vampires? Do they watch reruns of Buffy or do they agonize over whether they are "Team Edward" or "Team Jacob"?

India: Alexander would probably like television! He’s fascinated with all things human. In my books though, there are no undead. There are ghosts, but these are human souls who got lost when they should have transitioned back to where they came from. The Higher Angels frown on human souls not being where they’re meant to be, and sometimes round them up. Scary thought, especially considering some of those spirits are Zoe’s friends.

MT: Will you be revisiting the Ordinary Angels world, or is this a stand alone novel?

India: The next novel in the series (which I think will be a trilogy) is called Familiar Demons, and it’s on the books for a 2012 release. It’s outlined and has a few chapters written, so it’s well on its way. This won’t be my next release though! I plan to release fantasy books in a couple of other worlds before I get to this sequel. I’m mean that way.

MT: Do angels poop? Wait. Don't answer that. That's a terrible question. Do they have sex?

India: Oh, do they ever have sex. Smouldering, saucy, and delicious. And something quite… unusual happens when they, ahem, reach their peak. This is definitely not a book for kids. Strong language and supernatural sizzle. It’s not classed as erotica, because the language used isn’t graphic. But the scenes themselves are quite spicy!

MT: Do angels have sideburns or other facial hair? I picture the archangels as having Sam Elliott paintbrush mustaches, even the female angels. Is this accurate or wishful thinking on my part?

India: They can change their appearance, so yes, they could have sideburns if they wanted to. Their basic physical structure stays the same, but they can wear their hair long or short, and change superficial things quite easily. That said, it is most definitely wishful thinking on your part!

MT: What is your next project after Ordinary Angels?

India: On June 1st I’ll be releasing Blood Faerie, an urban fantasy set in Perth, Scotland. It’s already back from the editor, so it’s just waiting for the proofreading and formatting stages! Later this year I plan to release Haywire Witch, the first in a series I’m calling “The Charms of Gerda Graves.” 2011 is a very busy year for me!

MT: Fuck it. I have to know. Do angels poop?

India: I never address it directly in the book, but I suppose I can give you the scoop. Eww, I wish I hadn’t said scoop.

At one point Zoe asks Alexander if he eats. He replies that he can, but he doesn’t have to. His friend and lawyer, a fallen angel named Thomas, runs a bar in realm outside the human world. So, we know for sure they drink too. I would say it’s safe to assume that the answer to the poop question is the same as the food question: they could if they wanted to, but I doubt they’d have to. Eating, like sex, is purely recreation for them (since they reproduce with each other differently than humans do—you’ll have to read Familiar Demons to find out more about celestial procreation), so it’s safe to say pooping would be, erm, purely recreational?

You win. Weirdest interview question ever. But I said I’d answer, and I’m a chick of my word.

MT: That you are! Thanks for playing along and best of luck.

India: Thanks so much for having me here today. It was great fun!



Highly offensive image of India as a werewolf angel. Note halo.

Author Bio:


India Drummond knew from age nine that writing would be her passion. Since then she's discovered many more, but none quite so fulfilling as creating a world, a character, or a moment and watching them evolve into something complex and compelling. She has lived in three countries and four American states, is a dual British and American citizen, and currently lives at the base of the Scottish Highlands in a village so small its main attraction is a red phone box. In other words: paradise.


The supernatural and paranormal have always fascinated India. In addition to being an avid sci-fi and fantasy reader, she also enjoys mysteries, thrillers, and romance. This probably explains why her novels have elements of adventure, ghosts (or elves, fairies, angels, aliens, and whatever else she can dream up), and spicy love stories.


Author website and blog: http://www.indiadrummond.com/


Facebook Fan Page: http://www.facebook.com/india.drummond.author


Twitter: http://twitter.com/IndiaDrummond


To arrange an interview or contact the author, please email: author@indiadrummond.com