Well, I am sitting here, so I guess you know what that means. Yes, I've been kidnapped by the blog hop fairies and asked to sit and answer all their questions. Mind you, it would be nice if they had coaxed me with chocolate, and not their whips and paddles! Who knew the little sprites could spank so hard, or love it so much! I guess the only sensible thing to do is to sit quietly and tell them whatever they want to know, before they follow through with their threat to erotically torture the answers they want out of my friends, Khul Waters, Evi, and Beany...oops! Too late! A couple of them just headed off rope and duct tape 0.o RUN GUYS!!!!! Oh dear, they weren't fast enough...
Perhaps if answer the questions, they might not go so hard on them?
Now, and for the rest of this year, I am heads down, bum up--such a lovely position!--writing further additions to the Preternatural Rescue Centre series. Fractured is my latest WIP, and will be released on the 15th of April, at eXtasy Books, followed by Betrayed on the 15th of May, and so on, for the rest of the year.
Krogan peered into the Well of all Tears, his brow furrowing into deeply grooved lines that showed the true depth of his concern. His fingers gripped the gold gilt edging of the pool that lapped with a gentle ripple from the gathering moisture far above, falling as a single teardrop at a time into the shallow waters below. The reflected image shimmered, quivering in a motion that matched the unsettled trembling of his churning stomach.
Tiona—the other half of his heart— wrapped her arm around his waist, weaving herself under his arm and against the breadth of his chest as she too peered into the waters, shivering as she watched the fragments of the future unfold before her. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and traced down her cheek, sliding down her chin and joining those shed by the heavens, into the pool.
Krogan's gaze swept around the great hall, so bleak and dark...as dark as the heaviness that weighed on the hearts of his gathered brothers, sisters, and their mates. Each wept, their souls crying out throughout the spiritual plane for the lives that would perish, if the world were to continue on the path it had been set upon.
Men, women, children, and preter...life held little meaning, as brother turned on brother, friend on friend, and lover on lover...while their enemies united in strength. Gathered like rats from a fire, the remains of mankind huddled within the vision, scavenging through the leftovers of war, while famine and pestilence extended their reach and claimed what little remained of a once flourishing land.
The dregs of society, skin traders and peddlers of misery, ruled those unfortunate enough to be captured and enslaved—their lives little more than added currency for those who could pay for the enjoyment of their pain, their blood.
With a fraction of the population left and a complete loss of humanity running rampant, Krogan knew what he was seeing was indeed the end of days, come to life in all its sickening glory.
Obeying the edict of the gods and simply letting this future come to pass...just the thought of doing so was unfathomable to both his mind and heart. The only prevention was action. As he looked around the hall, he knew that as the offspring of a god, they all had to step forth and join in his efforts. While they might not be able to physically move in and interfere, there were ways they could give humanity a chance, indirectly.
He straightened and rolled his shoulders, a new resolve firm in his mind as he met the eye of each of his brothers, sisters, and their mates. While his siblings were each unique in their spirits and abilities, they were born of the same father—a god who apparently loved variety, yet cared little for the responsibilities left to him by his choices in bed partners. It didn't matter. They didn't see shifter, vampire, warlock, and more, as they looked toward each other...they saw family, an unbreakable bond that tied them to each other for eternity. It was their father's careless ways—that had sowed the blackened seed and created the root of destruction that unfolded before them—so they would deal with it.
"We can all see the path that has been set. It is the end, the price each life will pay if we do not act. While we do not have the power to divert the disaster before us, we can deliver those who will.
"Join with me. Let our own blood repair that which is broken, before all life falls to pieces." A round of nods and determined expressions met his request.
Drawing on his shifter spirit, he focused on his life energy, pulling a single thin filament from within his soul and into his awaiting hands. Tiona did the same, holding the golden spark of her thread in her small, cupped palms. He guided her to slide her breathtakingly beautiful essence into his palm, to join with his own.
The threads swirled, Krogan's silver essence entwining itself against Tiona's gold. They writhed, rolled, until they blended into one. A bright flare of pure light, that heralded the starting spark of new life, blinded Krogan for an instant. The tiny new life felt warm against his skin, pulsing with a gentle energy, so fragile, yet bursting with promise, with hope.
He turned to his brothers and sisters, smiling at the rainbow of colours nestled safely within the hands of each new father or mother. They turned to the well, joining voices as they murmured the incantation that opened the veil between earth and their own higher plane of existence. The veil parted with a slight swooshing sound, and the men and women farewelled their offspring, before releasing them through the parting in the veil with hearts heavy, yet happy at the same time.
Their children would find a safe haven among the wombs of the worthy, those who would protect the new life with their own. They would grow, unaware of the heavy weight of responsibility that awaited them until each child's true spirit awoke to their destiny when the time arrived to act. Until then, Krogan and his siblings would watch, and wait...
PRETERNATURAL RESCUE CENTRE
Available at EXtasy books, and where all good eBooks are sold! - Fractured is set for release, April 15th 2014.
2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?
I love the underdog in a story, those characters who find they are unworthy of love, or unlovable. You will find one in each story I write, as they find the love they never thought they would, and overcome all odds to claim it and keep it for their own.
3) Why do I write what I do
I have always had my head in the clouds, a daydreamer even as a small child. Being the much younger and only female sibling, I hid away and resorted to my books for companionship. It was only a natural progression that I start writing those stories, and when I won 1st place in a writing competition at only 9, it encouraged me to keep going.
4) How does your writing process work?
Oh, now that is a hard one, but there are similarities in all stories that I write.
Firstly, I will get hit with an idea. Sometimes a photo triggers it, sometimes a song, other times a feeling. Whatever it is, when the idea hits you will find me diving for a notepad and pen, or jotting down details onto my phone, for later retrieval.
The idea will usually sit until I have time, but often they demand I act--also why I have a WIP folder stuffed full of partially written stories!
While some books are a breeze, almost writing themselves, others truly are a labour of love, and the dreaded writers block hits with almost every one, at some point in the story. It took me a couple of books, but I soon realized that when I become blocked, the only real solution is to stop stressing over that point in the story, and to place a mark in the manuscript so I can go back to that point in time, and to move on. Some stories become almost like a jigsaw puzzle.
Khul Waters: I am a 54-year-old Australian. I write to express the joy I find in life. I began with short stories and poetry that mostly seemed to focus on one theme—the nature of love between men and women. Specifically, I am intrigued by the nature of Dom/submissive relationships. Not the stereotypical leather and whips type, but the need for many men to take a dominating role in lovemaking and for many women to take a submissive role. My present stories feature this pre-occupation.
* * * *
Evi Asher: Evi is a die-hard romantic, who firmly believes in happy endings, and loves all things paranormal. She lives in South Africa, with her (very patient) husband, two children, and too many pets, including a cockatiel who loves to sit on her desk, and chew the pink rhinestones off Evi’s mouse while she’s trying to write.
* * * *
Beany Sparks: Beany Sparks lives in Western Australia. She first started reading romance novels in 2008, but it wasn't until January 2010 when her Kindle got delivered (which she had brought herself on Christmas Day 2009) that the world of erotic romance opened its doors to her, and she hasn't looked back.
Since English was never her strong subject at school she never expected to write a story, let alone try to get it published. With suggestions and support from friends, her muse—“affectionately" known as PITA—was finally able to break free, and in January 2014 her first story was written. Since she can’t put PITA back in his box—she's tried!—Beany has decided to give in and team up with him.
Together they’ve made plans to write both MF and MM stories. Why? Because love isnt gender specific, love is love.