Wednesday Brief: Your Hump Day Dose of Flash Fiction

Happy Wednesday! Time flies when you're having fun. And why am I having fun, you're wondering? Well, I started my driving lessons (which weren't really that much fun and which I found I'm not very good at, but yeah, *facepalm*), I am almost done with my current WIP (a dark erotic urban fantasy which started out as a brief) and I made it just in time to participate in today's Brief!

This is the last chapter of December Tingles.As a matter a fact, and I apologize in advance, I've gone 100 words over the limit because I just didn't know where to cut from anymore. (It didn't help that I started writing the brief and forgot to actually include a prompt in the story *facepalm*).
I might expand it some day, but right now with Christmas officially over I want to start something new.

If you haven't read chapters 1 to 3, you can either click here or on the tab above that says "Wednesday Briefs". You'll be redirect to my Wednesday Brief page where you can find the links to the chapters (titled December Tingles 1, 2 and 3). 

I hope you enjoy Anne and Daniel's final chapter! Have a great day and do visit the other Briefers, they've got some awesome stories going on!

December Tingles 4

“Please pass me the chocolate, Anne dear.”

Anne stood and handed her mother the porcelain pitcher, then returned to her corner near the window. Chocolate, the seventh gift. Her cheeks warmed and she furtively leaned into the cool windowpane.

“Like you, this is not any kind of sweet, my dearest Anne. This piece was made in Switzerland and it has to be eaten in a certain way. Close your eyes.”

Anne hesitated, glimpsing at the bonbon wrapped in bright green paper. Apprehension coursed through her and she looked over at the ballroom where couples danced to a gay tune, people chatted and drunk, oblivious to the two lovers on the terrace. Her mother was nowhere to be seen.

Her gaze focused on Daniel. He regarded her quietly, his silver eyes dark, by the shadows in the balcony or something else, she could not say. Anne closed her eyes. The sound of crinkling paper reached her ears and her mouth parted slightly, expectantly. Daniel moved closer, the heat of his body surrounding her and making her pulse go wild.

Daniel’s silken locks grazed her cheeks and she shut her eyes tighter. Tension seeped out of her as Daniel’s warm lips touched hers. The tip of his tongue skimmed over her bottom bow and she gasped, surprised. A moan lodged in her throat as his tongue swept inside her and entwined with hers, leaving in its wake the pleasant flavor of chocolate and liquor.

Anne tightened her hold on the book. Her eyes flew to her mother’s still figure on the armchair near the fire. She sat knitting, oblivious to her thoughts. Oh, the reprimand she’d received that night after returning from her “dance” with Daniel.

“You will not leave this house without my permission. You will not have visitors. You will never, ever see that man again.”

“Why?”

“Because I know the likes of him!  They are good for nothing men that will shower you with gifts, take your virtue and kick you out on the curb when the next young maiden appears.”

Anne gave her mother another glance. Had her father been like that? She didn’t remember much about him and her mother as a couple, but the times she’d seen them together she’d always been laughing, her eyes dancing with emotion.

 It wasn’t like her mother could stop Daniel. She smirked. For the past five days gifts kept coming in the most secretive and imaginative ways. Sticking her hand in her pocket, Anne traced the key she kept there. The 11^th gift. She’d received it the night before, tied with a red ribbon and waiting for her on her windowsill. Had Daniel put it there? Biting back a sigh, she shifted in her seat. With every gift, there had been a cryptic note except with the key.  Shaking her head, Anne returned to her book. Perhaps, tonight all would be cleared. 

Anne danced with all the suitors her mother threw at her. Waltz after waltz, she forced a smile on her face and politeness into her tone. It was Colonel Dermouth’s birthday, all his friends should be there, but Daniel was not. Her heart constricted painfully. Could her mother have been right? Had he tired of her and left to court another? Then why the 11^th gift? Why the key? Her mind churned with unanswered questions as her gaze travelled around the room, searching for grey eyes.

 

They were one of the last to leave. Her feet ached but it was nothing compared to the pain in her chest. Why hadn’t he come? She clambered onto the coach, her mother a step behind, when the Colonel called her.

“I’ll be but a moment.” Anne nodded, her gaze on her lap, afraid to look her mother in the eye and see the I told you so look.

Abruptly, the carriage moved. Anne lifted her gaze, shocked as the Brougham sped away from the house, leaving her screaming mother behind.

“Sir, sir,” Anne shouted to the driver to stop, but to no avail. Stunned she watched the figure of her frantically waving mother disappear as they reached a bend.

They didn’t travel far. About fifteen minutes later, the couch drove up a paved pathway and stopped in front of a large manor house she had never seen before.

“We’re here, miss.”

“Where?”

The driver said nothing as he opened the door and helped her out. Pointing to the front door, he climbed back aboard and left her, trembling slightly at the foot of an uknown house.

Nervously, Anne palmed the key in her pocket. She shook her head, thinking the idea that crossed her mind way too far-fetched.

“Crazy ideas are the best ideas, Anne.”

She gasped loudly, her hand coming to her throat as she spun to find Daniel leaning against a column, smiling at her.

“Daniel!”

He moved. His presence as commanding as usual, sending her heart on overdrive as it always did when he was near. Reaching for a lose tendril of her hair, he leaned into her.

“Aren’t you going to open the door?”

Pulling out the bronze key, she stared at it for an instance before inserting it into the lock. There was a satisfying click as the bolt released. However, she did not open the door. Instead, she faced Daniel.

“What’s  inside?”

“What do you want there to be?” he asked, grinning cheekily.

“You.”

Daniel wrapped his hands on her waist and pulled her roughly against him. Victoria breathed heavily, her corset dug into her ribs and she thought she’d faint at any moment at his proximity and the intensity of his gaze. Somehow, she managed to keep her composure as he bent to whisper in her hear.

“Are you insinuating that you will not accept my twelfth gift of Christmas?”

“Not if you’re not inside,” she said boldly.

Daniel chuckled. “Then I’ll just have to go inside with you, no?”

Anne hesitated. “And stay?”

Daniel paused.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

Anne shrugged.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” With a broad smile, he unexpectedly picked her up. Anne let out a startled squeal.  “I’ll stay as long as you want me.”

“Forever.”

“I was hoping you’d say that too,” he murmured, stepping over the threshold and brushing his lips over hers, sending delicious shivers down her spine. “Your mother will have a fit.”

“Let her.”

Daniel laughed. “Forever it is then. I’ll admit I was secretly hoping you’d accept my 13^th Christmas Gift.”

 “13?” she asked, blinking up at grey eyes she knew she’d never get tired of seeing.

 “You’ll see.”

The End

More Briefs?

Chris T. Kat   m/m

MA Church     m/m

Tali Spencer     m/m

Victoria Adams     m/f

Nephylim     m/m

Julie Lynn Hayes m/m

T n'T's Confidential: Interview with Tory Michaels

Welcome back to T n'T Confidential 2013 edition! *insert trumpeteers and cheerleaders here*

For anyone new that doesn't know what T n'T's are about, I'll explain. T n'T's Confidential are Tuesday and Thursday's dedicated to visiting authors. Sometimes they'll hop by with just a quick blurb and excerpt about their latest release, other times I will have had the possibility to interview them and delve into their devious minds and other times there will be a little of everything along with some extra surprises (such as giveaways).

My first visitor this year is Florida resident, Tory Michaels!  I've had the chance to interview Tory and find out more about her and her Dream Walker-War series of which book 3, Prophecy of blood just came out.

Originally from the Sacramento Valley, Tory packed up and moved all the way to Southwest Florida in 2004 with her husband (a Florida native) under the premise that ‘hurricanes almost never hit that part of the state.’ That year, 4 blasted the area. 4 more came the following year, and her husband blames her for bringing the hurricanes. She now resides in Jacksonville and is relieved that, thus far, no more hurricanes have followed her around.

She began writing in kindergarten when a turnip wished to be human and, other than a hiatus shortly after getting married, has never stopped. Her love of vampires began somewhere in junior high, and combining the two loves didn’t take long. She loves music, considers herself a ‘book slut’ whose reading habits would break her family financially if given free reign, and is (usually) delighted to be a mommy of twin Shrimpettes and a Shrimp.

Welcome Tory! You work in law, have three children a husband and a dog… Are you some sort of superhero in disguise!? How do you manage to find the time to write?

I don’t sleep. Seriously, I routinely get by on 5-6 hours of sleep. It drives my husband CRAZY! I really need to get more sleep, feel better when I do, but I’ll lie awake trying to sleep and ideas just keep coming on how to either fix something already written, or what I might try.

Now if only my self-doubt wouldn’t paralyze me when I try to actually write them down…..I’d probably have 5 or more books beyond what I already have if I wrote as much as I think about my writing.

Where do you get the inspiration for your stories?

Every so often, something on TV or a movie will trigger an idea. I’ve got a new series idea brewing at the moment that’s sci-fi rather than paranormal. It’s bizarre, the idea of a book that doesn’t involve vampires.

Prophecy of Blood is the latest book in your Dream Walker War series and there’s still one more book to go according to your website. Why did you decided to write a series? How hard do you find the process?

There’s at least one, but probably more than that based on what I’ve been thinking lately about the series.

I didn’t actually originally intend to do a series. Dara’s story was intended as a stand-alone and stood up by itself for the first two versions (differing plotlines, with different titles, with only a couple of scenes that remained in every single version). And then…along came the plot that led to the title Blood Rage. Ares presented himself as the motivator behind the murders that brought Dara and Anthony together, and it was on from there.

Granted, there have been some hiccups along the way. There’s an entire book written that I can never publish that featured Chris (heroine from books 2 & 3) hooking up with an incubus named Marcelo. Unfortunately, there was more spark between Chris and Jordan than between Chris and Marcelo. So I pitched that book and wrote one starring Chris and Jordan. A couple of scenes from the Chris/Marcelo book found their way into Rising and Prophecy.

Writing a series can be BRUTAL, especially this third book. I’d been very vague about certain details in Blood Rage and Blood-Mage Rising, but as the war moved toward its first serious climax (the end of Prophecy), I had to lay out a lot of details to set up the rest of the series, however many books that ends up being. It also sucked that Rising & Prophecy covers the same time period as Rage because it meant I couldn’t use Dara and Anthony much, since they were off having their own dramas.

Out of the Dream Walker War series, which character thus far has been the hardest to build? Why?

Jordan. He’s my resident pain in the ass. He went from being a one-chapter, throwaway villain in the earliest version of what became Blood Rage (originally Love & Lies), to a minor character in the throw-away book, to demanding his own book (which turned into two). And he wanted to be a ROMANTIC HERO! He’s a freakin’ sociopath with a thousand years of torture, murder and mayhem under his belt.

Finding a way to make him a romance hero was a trick and a half. He’s still a sociopath, but I think he developed nicely in the end to be a villainous hero (and no, there’s no hidden heart of gold under that darkness).

What are you currently working on?

I’m between projects at the moment, though I’ve got a couple of ideas on the back-burner (book 4 of the Dream-Walker War, and a new sci-fi series that I’m keeping under wraps for the moment).

If you could change one thing from one of your novels, what would it be?

A couple of typos I found in Prophecy. Seriously, I’m psyched with how well they turned out and I have no real regrets/problems with them as they stand. Oh, Chris is reportedly a bit whiny in Rising, and I acknowledge she needed to grow up a bit, buuuut it served its purpose, I think.

Favorite:

Song – I Surrender, Celine Dion

Moment of the day – When I get up and no kids are around yet and I have a chance to drink that cup of coffee in peace.

Animal – If you mean real ones, orcas. Fantasy ones – Pegasus.

One wish for 2013? – An agent and traditional publishing contract! (okay, that’s two, sorry)

Blurb

One hundred ninety-eight seasons after the mushroom-shaped clouds first blossom to poison the humans of the Rising Sun, near the beginning of the Season of Inundation, Atlantis will return.

With those words ringing in their ears, vampires Christine Javert and Jordan MacNaught find themselves in a race against time to stop the return of Atlantis. As they hunt for the deadly Ares, they discover the true depths of his plot to incite a world-wide species war, turning the humans against all the non-humans, not just the vampires as they’d originally thought.

Excerpt

“Dude, next time just tap me on the shoulder.”

She needed to lodge the protest, though her body sang at the familiar touch. She and her body needed to have a good, long talk about this situation. He shouldn’t be able to make her go mushy just by putting an arm around her. Not when they’d sated their lust so recently.

As expected, Jordan wore a suit that evening, and it suited him perfectly. No tie for a change though, and his crisp shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. So for him, he was going for a casual look.

The arm around her back drifted south until his hand rested on her ass and gave it a gentle squeeze. “My way’s more fun. Admit it, wasn’t it fun, seeing him slink off?”

He grinned. How a grown man frozen in his early twenties could continually look like a mischievous little boy when he grinned was beyond her. But it worked for him. Chris shook her head and groaned. Protest. Remember? You’re doing the whole friend thing, and friends don’t grab friends’ asses. Not even friends you bounce at every opportunity. With an effort, she leveled out her breathing. “I didn’t expect to see you here so early. I was heading out soon.”

Even with the attempt to moderate her voice, her words came out breathy. She cringed internally. If Jordan noticed, he didn’t comment. “You need a keeper. I’ve appointed myself to the task.”

Arrogant jackanapes. Rather than draw a scene by having a conversation in the middle of the dance floor without dancing, she sighed and looped his arms around his neck. At least she didn’t have to bother with the intricacies of a waltz. The last time she’d danced with him had been in London, the night before he buried her.

The hand on her butt squeezed again. “What was that thought? You just scowled.”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

He frowned, but let the matter drop. “You look smashing, Chrissy. Why were you wasting it on the dog?”

“It was a dance, nothing more. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Dozens of people surrounded them, but she saw only Jordan. Felt him as his other hand trailed lazily down her back. His lips brushed her ear as he leaned close. “After earlier, I might just make it my business.”

Her mouth went dry, and she blinked at him. “Huh, wha’?”

 “I make a lousy friend, as you well know.” He cupped the back of her head and kissed her. Her knees threatened to buckle. “And since I intend to be inside you again at the earliest possible moment, the ‘friend’ label doesn’t fit.”

Oh. Wowser. She licked her lips, saw an answering flare of arousal flash in the green eyes staring into hers. “You’re not serious. Like, you want to date?” He blew my mind, but it was that good for him, too?

“Such a dull word, but sufficient.” He drew her closer. Fire followed the path of his lips around the bottom of the dark-blue choker she wore to cover up the nasty scar from the attack that left her almost dead. He took a long sniff, no doubt smelling the Princess perfume she daubed on. “You smell good enough to eat, Chrissy. I could spend hours doing just that.”

The already warm nightclub turned scorching. Maybe it was just her temperature.

“In that obnoxious pink bed of yours.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, tried not to picture them in her room. It definitely was her temperature soaring, not the club’s.

Jordan’s voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Arms and legs restrained, holding you open for me. No escape, no retreat.”

Her non-existent imagination conjured the image up in startling detail, bolstered by the memory of the handcuffs around her wrists earlier. She whimpered, couldn’t help the moisture that trickled from her to soak her panties. Oh damn, no. That should not turn me on. Not him. Not like this, not again.

She moved with the music, turning to press her back into him. His strong, sure hands pulled her hips against his in a dance they’d done so many times together, one that had nothing to do with music.

“And the thought, being with me like that, excites you. Letting control go earlier like you did, gave you a rush you’ve never gotten before in sex.” Jordan pushed the hair at her neck to the side. Sharp fangs sank against her throat, not quite breaking the skin, his other hand drifting up to cup her breast. The fabric of her dress did nothing to shield her against the heat of his palm. “Did you sneak out afterward because of how it made you feel?”

Teasing touches trades down her sides until he reached the hem of her skirt. His hand slid beneath to caress the skin of her thigh just above her garter.

Take back control, Chris. You steam-roller. Men don’t do this shit to you. Nor did she want them to. Right? Except him, damn it all to hell. And he was talking about feelings? What the fuck? Struggling to keep her head against the sensuality he dragged out of her, she clamped her hands over his wrists to still his movements. With only a hint of her normal forcefulness, she said, “Knock it off, MacNaught.”

“Or what, hmm? Let go, Chrissy. You’d enjoy yourself more if you relaxed. Remember?”

He twisted his wrist, broke her admittedly weak grip on him, and the exploration of her leg continued. She colored, prayed no one was staring at them. The display, while making her hornier than a bitch in heat, was mild for the ‘Cor. It didn’t matter, because she flat out didn’t do public affection. None of her boyfriends crossed the line with her, knowing she’d flatten them if they pushed too far.

She couldn’t flatten Jordan though. To make it worse, she didn’t want to.

Goosebumps rose in the wake of his caresses over her thighs. His fingers inched upward, just brushing her mound, only blocked by the flimsy barrier of her soaked panties.

He laughed softly in her ear. “You say no, but your body, your oh-so-pretty pussy says yes, doesn’t it?”

Chris twitched. If she didn’t move away, didn’t break this off, the bastard would think he could maul her whenever he wanted. And what’s wrong with that? So what if he does the caveman thing? You read the trashy romance novels, and are surprised when someone acting like those alpha assholes turns you on?

A harsh blast of noise from behind her head where it plastered against Jordan’s suit coat worked as effectively as a bucket of water. 

Facebook Tory  *  Facebook Series  *  Twitter  *  Website  *  Blog  *  GoodReads

Buy Links

 All Romance  *  Amazon  * Amazon UK  *  BookStrand

Six Sentence Sunday with some exciting news!

Rejoice! Happy Sunday everyone! and Happy Three Kings Day! 

Remember Vincent from last week's Six? Well, I'm ecstatic to announce that I got an early Three King's present and he is now officially part of the Naughty Fairy Tales Evernight family! Yay! What's the title of the novel? What fairy tale is it based on?

*grin* Well, the novel is titled "The Golden Cock". Take your guesses on which fairy tale I used for inspiration... *wink*

And now, those Six Sentences....

Vincent glanced at his cock, his eyes widening in shock. Where was his cock? That, that thing, hanging between his legs couldn’t belong to him, could it? Had Soussanna passed on some illness?  The wheels in his brain turned furiously as he sought answers. Soussanna said that in exchange for his seed she’d gift him with something. 

More Six? Click here

2013...Resolutions and goals

Happy 2013!

Usually, around this time of year everyone is busy making resolutions and remembering the good and the bad of the year before. I'm running a bit late, but here I am. *grin*

 I don't usually make resolutions. As a matter a fact, I try not to make long term plans. (They have a tendency of going awry). That doesn't mean I don't dream. Heck, if I didn't I wouldn't be writing in the first place, but I try not to wander too far. (I have to admit a lot of the time it doesn't work - I have an active imagination *grin*).

Anyhow, there are quite a few things I want to do this 2013:

1. Get my Spanish driver's license. I passed my written test a few days after Christmas, so now all that's left is for me to actually learn to drive. *scary shiver*


2. Write, write, and write some more. I have three immediate projects that I want to finish:

• Edit my Nanowrimo and submit it. I'm half way through with editing, so I should hopefully be done with this soon. 
• Write the fourth story in the Mercenary Tales series. 
• Finish that Free Read I began writing back in November.

3. Related with writing is the idea of learning some more about certain periods in history such as the Medieval Era.

4. Blog more- not only write more but also interact more.. 

5. Keep up my Portuguese and French studies.  

7. Finally, what's probably going to be the hardest goal for this 2013: finding a media/communication job. If it were up to me I'd dedicate myself fully to writing but the economy is harsh and writing isn't bringing in enough money to survive and neither is my part time job-with no possibility of advancement.

And that's it, folks! My goals for 2013. There are certain things I haven't mentioned like caring, loving and spending as much times as possible with my friends and family, but that goes without saying. *wink*

What are your goals? Are you fond of making resolutions?

Wednesday Brief: Your Hump Day dose of Flash Fiction

Happy 2013! This is the first Wednesday Brief of the year! Wohoo! I'm still continuing the story I began a few weeks ago. If you'd like to read parts 1 and 2, simply click here and here.

The prompt I'm using is "If I thought you would..."

December Tingles 3

Anne snapped her fan open and took a moment to recompose herself behind the ornate object. She’d seen him. She couldn’t be sure he’d spotted her but she knew he was there. It was hard to miss him. Tall and broad, his presence commanded attention. Then, there was the matter of his hair. Unlike the other men who wore it slicked back he chose to tie his long locks with a ribbon. A red ribbon. Anne swallowed. He did what he said he would. “I’ll wear a ribbon the color of your gown that night.” What would he think of her gown tonight? It was a pale golden hue, gathered at the bottom into small bows.


Her hair was pinned back with the ribbons he’d gifted her on the third day of Christmas. They were also red. On her ears, she wore his fourth day of Christmas token: a pair of matching red stone earrings. Oh, but the fifth day had been the best. She smiled. Her mother had almost had a fit when he’d presented himself on her doorstep, announcing he’d come to see her. Her poor mother had thought it was some suitor or another but she’d never suspected it was him.

“You’ve received my gifts.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Did you like them?”

She smiled. “Of course—“ she hesitated.

“But?” he enquired with a smile. She tilted her head, noticing for the first time the small gap between his two front teeth.

“This is the best gift yet.”

Surprise fleetingly crossed his features and he shook his head.

“You don’t know me.”

She laughed. “You haven’t given me that privilege.”

“Yet, you enjoy my visit,” he muttered as if he couldn’t comprehend what she was saying.

Anne shrugged. There was no plausible explanation.

“Do you have the sprig of mistletoe?”

Anne’s eyes widened. He wouldn’t dare kiss her. Right? Not with her mother so close… She swallowed and nodded. His grey eyes lighted with playful intent.

“Annette Marie Wilksmouth, I have heard you are fast on your feet but I’d love a demonstration.” With a wink and a mischievous grin, he set off at a run. Laughing, Anne hitched her skirts and followed him into the gardens. Her mother’s shrill voice rang behind them, ordering them to stop. Her hairpins tumbled to the floor, the trail of her dress muddied as she skipped over a puddle and her lungs burned from exertion but she continued to run.

“Wait!” He was much faster, his legs longer, his clothes permitting more ease of movement. She ran into a part of the garden composed by her mother’s favorite fruit trees. It was empty.

“Daniel?” she called hesitantly. Was that even his name? He showered her with gifts and now came to see her but his name was still a mystery. He was still a mystery.

She cried out as long fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist and pulled. She crashed against him, her other hand making contact with the hard planes of his chest.

“Show me the mistletoe.”

Reaching inside the pocket of her gown, she pulled out the dry branch. Breath failed to reach her lungs as his smile lit up the cloudy skies above as if the sun shun on a bright spring morning.

“Don’t ever be afraid to call my name, dear Anne. I am Daniel Lewis Smith and I have been at your disposal since I spotted you on that dance floor.”

He didn’t give her time to frame an answer before his lips found hers.

“Trying to hide from me, my lady?” Anne lifted her gaze to search into a pair of stormy grey eyes. She shook her head and smiled, offering Daniel her hand. His fingers had barely wrapped themselves around her when a voice cut through the air.

“Anne will not dance with you tonight.”

Anne turned to face her mother, shock zinging every one of her nerve endings.

“Mother?”

“I will not have my daughter dancing with a man who treats her like a mistress and makes her run and hide in her own house.”

Anne’s jaw fell. Treat her like a mistress? Was she referring to the gifts? The day they’d ran from her or… her eyes widened and she searched her mother’s face for the answer to that question she dared not ask out loud. Her mother returned her gaze. She knew. Oh God. She knew about Daniel’s other visits. For the rest of the week he’d come to see her only when her mother was absent or when there was no chaperone. Last night, he’d even climbed into her bedroom! Her mother knew and—Anne glanced up at Daniel. He looked as shocked as she did. However, he hadn’t released her hand and somehow that tiny gesture gave her strength. Lifting her chin, she turned her back on her mother and stood.

“I will gladly dance with you.”

As if reading her thoughts, Daniel didn’t lead her to the dance floor but to the terrace. A full moon shone from above giving the snowy fields around them a magical glow. She took in a deep breath. What had she done?

“Anne.” She turned to face him, her name on his lips like a balm to her tormented mind. “If I thought you would have to defy your mother to court me, I never would have—“

Standing on her toes, Anna planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Would you really have never chosen to court me?”

His eyes twinkled as his features lighted with a knowing smile.

“You know me so little and yet you know me so well. Come on. I have a seventh day of Christmas gift for you.”

To be continued...

More flashers? Click ahead: 

Chris T. Kat  m/m

Nephylim     m/m

Tali Spencer    m/m

Cia Nordwell     m/m

MA Church     m/m

Victoria Adams      m/f

Julie Lynn Hayes  m/m