Posts Tagged ‘Samhain Publishing’
Hot Seat Interview with Jodi Redford
13 Days of Halloween Edition
Please Welcome Jodi Redford to the Hot Seat. Jodi is known for her scintillatingly sexy, sweet and funny stories that can touch your heart and have you reaching for the…ice.
I have the Cabana Men set up a comfy leather chair for Jodi, put out the peanut butter cookies and some coffee, and adjust the spotlight. Once everything is set up, I snap my fingers have the dragon Cabana Men lead her in and settle her in her seat.
Ready for the Q&A? Okay, here we go!
Okay, so you are trapped in a cave with a hell hound, demon, dragon and a space pirate who would you choose to help lead you to safety?
JR: What? I have to leave the cave?!? Whhhhhhyyyy? There’s a hell hound, demon, dragon, and space pirate in there! *clings to cave wall*
Okay, if I absolutely have to leave—I dunno, maybe the cave is being redecorated or something—I’d chose the dragon to lead me to safety. Because hello, dragon. Mr. Hot Breath is basically a walking Bic lighter. Will need him for igniting that fire for the search party to find…eventually. >.>
SI: Good choice and don’t forget he can bring you food and keep you…warm at night.
Hey! Stop staring at the leather clad butts of the Cabana Men, pay attention. Okay, you are given handcuffs, a piece of silk and a flogger what do you do with those items?
JR: *Stares a little harder at leather clad butts of the Cabana Men* Hm, I have NO IDEA what I would do with those items. I suppose I could turn the handcuffs into bracelets, and depending on how big the piece of silk is, make a snazzy sarong out of it. The flogger could probably make a nifty hair accessory. I foresee a fashion trend in the works here.
SI: You’d use it for fashion? Are you a pod person? You’re not thinking of using those items for anything dirty? *is shocked*
You are stuck on an island what five things do you hope is stuck with you?
JR: Assuming I still have the handcuffs, piece of silk, and the flogger…the 5 must-haves would be my Ipod (Because I need my music for Disco Night with the Natives), my IPad and perfect internet connection (Because more than an hour without internet and I turn into Jack Nicolson’s character from The Shining. Bad news for the natives.), coffee and my Keurig machine (See explanation for item #2. Very similar outcome.), and last but not least, chocolate. I know that’s technically 6 things, but making me forsake chocolate is cruel and unusual punishment.
SI: *makes mental note to keep axes away from Jodi* Chocolate is it’s own food group and I saw on the internet that it’s also a veggie cause it grew from a plant therefore it’s salad or something.
Space Pirates have kidnapped you. You manage to conquer the Captain and make him your man toy. You have to rename your ship and give yourself a moniker worthy of the Dread Pirate Roberts. What do you name your ship and what is your Pirate name?
JR: Aye, I get kidnapped by space pirates on nearly a weekly basis, so I’ve already put great thought into this one. My ship would of course be the Millennium Penguin, and my pirate name is Runs With Scissors Iron Britches LaRoux. If that isn’t worthy of striking terror into the hearts of pretty much everyone, then I don’t know what is.
SI: Millennium Penguin. We really do share a brain. Running with scissors is very dangerous.
You write some super sexy stories. What makes a hero sexy? What turns you on about them? Other than their dirty, dirty mouths.
JR: Hm, there are so many different aspects that go into making a hero sexy. For me, it has a lot more to do with his personality and how he treats the heroine than anything else. I like a hero with a bit of a wicked sense of humor. It shows that he has a fun side, and doesn’t take himself *too* seriously. I absolutely LOVE a hero who isn’t afraid to talk dirty now and then. But sometimes he doesn’t need to say anything at all. A naughty grin can speak volumes, and leave the heroine wondering exactly what raunchy scenarios are tumbling around in his deliciously dirty mind! Another major turn on for me when it comes to heroes is his ability to make the heroine feel like she’s the center of his universe. When they’re together, she is his complete focus. And I don’t just mean when they’re setting the bed sheets on fire, either. If danger is around the corner, his first priority is guaranteeing her safety. A fiercely protective hero is UBER sexy!
SI: Which is why your heroes are uber awesome!
Your heroines are so awesome, vulnerable but strong and funny and open minded. What inspires you to write such wonderful heroines?
JR: Oh man, you’re making me all sniffly here, Se. I’m so glad you like my heroines. ? Honestly, my main inspiration is probably all of the wonderful women who populate my daily existence and are true heroines in their own right. I truly believe as women, we’re all strong, weak, brave, scared, interesting, flawed, colorful, quirky, beautifully imperfect creatures. That’s a great character goldmine, amiright?
SI: *hands over the tissues* Absolutely! Hear! Hear!
You are a mischievous minx, you know that? What shenanigans has your hell hound gotten you into lately that will turn into a story?
JR: Oh my goddess, that hell hound is a handful, lemme tell you! I don’t care how cute his buns are, they’re getting smacked next time he digs out under my fence again. Do you have any idea the number of questioning looks you get posting a Lost sign for a hell hound? Good grief. Maybe I should just invest in getting an Invisible Fence and be done with it. Hm, as far as shenanigans go, he’s currently trying to talk me into signing up for boxing lessons at the gym. Probably because it’s a convenient excuse for him to hang around and ogle women in skimpy bra tops and shorts. We shall see what insanity brews with this endeavor.
SI: Boxing lessons? Is that a bit dangerous? Or maybe he’s trying to convince you to write a boxing hero story? Could be worse, he could’ve talked you into trying MMA!
What is your ideal unwinding day after finishing a story? Do you just veg out or get cracking on a new story ASAP?
JR: Usually an 18 hour nap sounds fantastic after wrapping up a story. Sadly, this rarely gets to happen. Instead I usually spend a few hours going over the million emails I’ve been neglecting during deadline. Once that’s out of the way, I’ll usually reread the story yet again because I’m obsessive that way. Once it’s deemed acceptable, I’ll shoot it over to my editor, and then immediately read the book again, whereas I find five typos and at least two unfortunate instances of using “balling” rather than “bawling”. Every. Frickin. Time.
Lately I’ve been working on back to back deadlines, so usually that means jumping right into the next book that’s due. This is actually good though, because I can rarely make my muse sit on an idea for more than a few days anyway.
SI: Don’t worry, I get taut and taunt mixed up. Ugh. Stupid n! That’s awesome, my muse is a scattershot, she’s all over the place with ideas.
What stories can we look forward from you that will go on our auto-buy list?
JR: Well, my next release is Three Ways to Wicked. It’s the first in a brand spanking new series, and features a scorching M/M/F romance between friends. One of which happens to be one of those gloriously dirty mouthed heroes I’m so fond of. Then sometime next year we’ll see Triple Knockout hit the cyber shelves. It’s another super smexy M/M/F ménage centered around two boxers and the little sister of their best friend. Forbidden love and men who know a thing or two about ropes. What’s not to love? After that, I’ll be working on the next That Old Black Magic book, as well as a super seekrit project with a certain someone. LOTS of fun stuff in the pipeline!
SI: So excited!
Please tell everyone where they can find you on the interwebs.
My author website: http://www.jodiredford.com
Author blog: http://www.jodiredford.blogspot.com
Thank You so much for sitting in the Hot Seat. I let the Cabana Men lead Jodi out to the spa. Hopefully they’ll give her some plot bunny worth inspiration.
Something dead this way comes…
That Old Black Magic, Book 1
For ten long years Griffin Trudeau has managed to keep his paws off Jemma Finnegan, best friend and leading star of his kinkiest fantasies. As her appointed cat familiar, indulging those fantasies with the delectable witch is strictly forbidden. But when Jemma shows up at his door with seduction in mind, control goes right out the window.
Too late he realizes making love to Jemma is the trigger that launches a zombie apocalypse.
Jemma’s been dealt a double whammy: she’s just discovered she’s a witch. And Griff has been hiding whiskers and a tail. Oh, and if her life wasn’t crazy enough, a dead voodoo queen needs her blood to raise a legion of zombies.
There’s one plan that might work to increase Jemma’s powers so she can put an end to the looming holocaust. A sexy threesome with Griff and Logan Scott, a werewolf familiar with a history of rubbing Griff’s fur the wrong way. A cat and a wolf playing nice, much less sharing? It’ll take a miracle.
A witch, tiger and wolf doing naughty things. A dead voodoo queen doing evil things. And zombies doing zombie things. Get your shovels ready.
http://store.samhainpublishing.com/that-voodoo-p-6116.html http://www.amazon.com/That-Voodoo-Black-Magic-ebook/dp/B0042P5I9W http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/that-voodoo-you-do-jodi-redford/1100397908 https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/jodi-redford/id411077972 http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Jodi+Redford
“So what’s going on in there?”
Logan propped his elbow against the frame, giving her a close-up view of his barbed-wire tat. Now that she thought about it, the symbolism seemed appropriate. Tangling with the lusty werewolf was bound to leave a few scratches. “Just Clarissa taking care of some coven business. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over, darlin’.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That managed to be both evasive and sexist.”
“Damn, and here I wasn’t even tryin’.” He chuckled. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she reached around him for the doorknob. He scooted sideways, forcing her hand to smack into his abdomen instead. His bare, firm-as-marble abdomen. Her fingertips brushed the warm hollow of skin resting just above the low rise of his button fly. Sucking in a sharp breath, she yanked her arm away and shuffled back several steps.
“Don’t stop now. Things were just getting interesting.”
“I, uh, just have to go and…um…yeah.” She spun and stumbled in the direction of the kitchen before she did something really stupid, like follow the silky trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of Logan’s jeans. With her tongue. That thought sent her tripping through the entry of the kitchen. She jerked to a halt when she spotted Griff in front of the stove, stirring the contents of a large stockpot. He was notably shirtless too, which put the mouthwatering expanse of his back on dazzling display. She stared at the muscles shifting beneath all that golden, velvety skin, her suspicions bubbling. It was too damn weird and convenient that both Logan and Griff were standing around half naked all of a sudden. Unless some devious shirt monster was making its rounds in the neighborhood, there was definitely something afoot.
And where was everyone else, anyway? She craned her neck, scoping the dining alcove for signs of Ms. Peach or Gloria.
“Hey, baby. You’re just in time for a taste test.”
She whipped her head around at Griff’s zippy tone. Now she knew something was up. Griff didn’t do chipper, particularly not thirty minutes after snarling at her like a pissed-off Tony the Tiger. “What the hell is going on?”
Griff tried for a guileless look. Oh yeah, he didn’t do innocent well either. “I’m getting lunch ready.”
“Without your shirt on?”
“It’s hot in here.”
Well…that was certainly true. Even without Griff’s muscle-icious torso making her girl parts all warm and tingly, there was no denying the temperature in the kitchen hovered between muggy and melt-your-panties-off miserable.
Griff dug a spoon out of the drawer and ladled some of the sauce he’d been stirring. “Tell me if this needs anything.”
Her intuition warning her to be on the lookout for any sneakiness, she hesitantly crossed to the industrial-sized, stainless-steel stove. She tried to wrestle the spoon from Griff, but he insisted on feeding her the concoction himself. Almost from the instant the tapestry of flavors met her tongue, a seductive ripple of heat unfurled inside her, tightening her nipples beneath the sundress’s snug, smocked bodice. Griff’s thumb traced the outline of her lower lip. Holding her gaze, he lifted his finger and slowly licked it clean. If the humidity didn’t melt the crotch of her panties, Griff demonstrating his perfect oral skills sure as hell would.
“What do you think? A pinch more salt and pepper?”
She stared into Griff’s dark-as-sin pupils. Clearly he was waiting for her to answer, but damn if she could concentrate on anything beyond the flush of arousal making her dizzy with hunger. Only it wasn’t food she was lusting for at the moment. Knees wobbling, she clutched the counter. “W—what’s in that sauce?”
“Butter, egg, milk. The usual Béchamel ingredients.”
Sure, and a liberal dash of horny goat weed and Viagra thrown in for good measure. She had no idea why Griff was trying to get her juiced up for sex. He knew damn well that all he had to do was breathe and she’d gladly tackle him to the floor and ride him until they were both properly yippee-ki-yayed out. Which left only one possibility.
He was about to spring some hellaciously scary sexual request on her. If a midget and a monkey strolled in right now, she was so out of th—
“Looks like the party is revving into high gear.” Logan ambled into the kitchen, his expression wicked and wolfish.
Her focus shifted between the two gorgeous specimens of male flesh on decadent display, and the puzzle pieces began locking together. Oh, sweet Jesus. Her heart frantically tap dancing, she snatched the embroidered dishtowel resting on the counter and blotted her perspiring forehead. Either the heat and the sauce were getting to her, or Griff and Logan. More than likely, all four.
She shot Griff an accusing glare. “Now I get it. You think the three of us having sex will fix everything, and I won’t have to worry about Nettie luring me to the dark side. Did it even occur to you to give me a say in this decision?”
Griff thunked the spoon on the stovetop before giving her his full attention. “Christ, do you honestly think you wouldn’t get a say? Damn it, you know I’d never force you into doing anything you don’t want.”
She plunked one hand on her hip and waved the other hand at the stockpot. “But you weren’t averse to a little cheating, courtesy of your pasta à la sex sauce.”
“I just wanted you to feel more comfortable. Relaxed.”
“Turned on,” she added, arching a brow.
A guilty flush spread from Griff’s jaw to his cheeks. Chuffing a laugh, Logan joined them at the stove. “Catman had good intentions, sugar. The potion in the sauce is designed to loosen inhibitions and supersensitize erogenous zones you didn’t even know you had.” He flicked a glance in Griff’s direction. “Maybe you better give her a demonstration.”
She snorted. “Trust me, he already did.”
Logan’s mouth curled in wicked devilment. “You only got a small taste of the potion’s capabilities. To truly appreciate its gift to the fullest, you need to ingest it in a more…intimate manner.” Before she knew what he was up to, Logan unlaced the ties securing the sundress to her shoulders and pushed the bodice down, exposing her breasts. Gasping, she shot him a startled look. He awarded her a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna enjoy this.”
Something warm and sticky stroked her nipples. She jumped at the unexpected sensation, her gaze shooting to Griff’s sauce-coated fingers as they painted her areolas with the creamy substance. He lowered his head and followed the path of his fingers with his tongue, sparking a new conflagration of fire inside her. She shivered and Griff peered up at her, his eyes blazing. Curving an arm around her waist, he stood and claimed her mouth in a hot, devouring kiss. He tasted of Béchamel and exotic spice. Of magic and sex. She wrapped her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, ravenous for more. Their tongues rasped in a mating dance and she wiggled against him, her nipples aching for the sumptuous devotion of Griff’s mouth.
Logan’s knuckles skated the length of her spine. “Noticing the effects yet?” She mewled a response and he chuckled. “Excellent.” He worked the dress over her hips and the garment floated to her feet. His feather-light touch skimmed above the elastic of her bikini, teasing the dimples near her tailbone. She arched against Logan’s hand, her knees turning to jelly when he palmed her ass and gave it a good squeeze. He snuggled close behind her, so close she easily detected the hard ridge of his erection suggestively rubbing into her. “I’ve got something for ya, darlin’.”
Oh yeah. No mistaking that.
Griff’s mouth trailed to the crook of her neck, and something soft and silky caressed her cheek. She reached for the fabric, but Logan swept it behind her head.
“Not yet. First I want something in return.”
She licked her lips, a hot liquid rush of excitement pulsing low in her belly. “What?”
“A taste.” Logan’s teeth scraped her earlobe, making her breath stutter. He moved lower and tongued the pulse point beneath her ear. “Same as you gave Catman.”
A whimper escaped her and Logan tilted her head, his fingers tunneling in her hair as his lips glided along hers. Sucking her tongue into his mouth, he gave her a sneak peek at the devastation he could wreak on her body. If she let him. The question was, would she?
Contest: Comment to win a book from Jodi Redford’s Backlist!
First of all, a big thanks and squishy hug to the awesometastic Selena Illyria for inviting me to come hang on her turf today so I can share a bit about my upcoming release, Lover Enraptured. For those who aren’t familiar with my Thieves of Aurion series, this is the second book, and it follows the complex, spark-filled relationship between fae thief, Jerrick Hunter, and his mentee and ex-partner, Avily Donahoe. Although Jerr and Avi were secondary characters in the first book, Lover Enslaved, they made it clear from the start that their story wouldn’t stay on the backburner. There’s big time unresolved issues between these two. And if there’s anything I love to write, it’s characters who create some serious friction—in more ways than one!
Looks like someone’s knees are going to get a workout.
Thieves of Aurion, Book 2
Avily Donahoe has dated way too many losers trying to get over Jerrick Hunter, the man who taught her everything about the life of crime she left behind. Now he has the balls to show up and ask her to pose as his sub, complete with skimpy leather outfit, to get inside a no-faes-allowed sex club?
Oh, hell no. If anyone’s going to be wearing next to nothing, it’s going to be Jerrick…as her bitch.
Five years ago, Jerrick realized the lonely kid he’d taken under his wing had grown into a tempting, desirable woman—and he’d cut her loose. If gaining her help now means hitting his knees with a leash and a collar, so be it.
But soon their front escalates into an all-too-real erotic game where the prize is the one thing that tantalizes him beyond reason. Their hearts aren’t the only thing they’ll lose if they fail. It could mean the end of everything—and everyone—they know and love.
Warning: This book contains male groveling, the occasional blindfold and feather tickler, wicked sex magic, and a fae thief who isn’t afraid to wear ass-less chaps when the job calls for it.
Jerrick was starting to come to the conclusion that the smaller the package, the more potential for testing his patience. Despite being half his size, Avi possessed the ability to drive him to the limits of his sanity.
After their showdown in the bathroom, she’d calmly ordered him into the kitchen—where he was currently making her a salad while she kicked back on the sofa. She was taking this whole getting-into-character to an exasperating extreme. He knew she was doing it to prove a point, and he even understood why.
What she didn’t understand was the dangerous fire she was meddling with.
There was a reason he desperately needed to be the one holding the reins in this charade, and it had nothing to do with some farfetched notion of refusing to kowtow to a woman’s demands. As long as he remained in control of himself, everything would be okay. He could treat this job like any other and stay cool and professional in the process. But with Avi pushing him and stripping his defenses, what hope did he hold of resisting the potent pull of her?
He had to. Giving in was not an option. Popping a cheese cube into his mouth, he squinted at her profile. “It’s bloody cold in here. Can I put my damn shirt back on?”
“The lower temp is good for your metabolism. We wouldn’t want you developing a spare tire around your gut.”
“I appreciate your concern for my health.” Somehow or other, he’d find a way to get her back for this. “What else do you want in your salad?”
“Maybe a few slices of the Nahimi melon.”
He opened her cooler and inspected the contents of the crisper bin. “Looks like you already polished it off.”
He waited for her to demand he drag his ass down to the grocer. Or perhaps produce some magical seeds and till her a garden so she could have her blasted fruit.
“Guess you’ll have to skip adding it. Chop up the rest of the cooked hen on the second shelf and toss it in instead. I need my protein, you know.”
Undoubtedly so she could keep her lungs nice and strong for bossing him around.
A minute later, meal completed to her exacting standards, he carried it to the sofa. She patted the cushion next to her. Before he even sat down he knew what her next request would be.
“You can feed it to me.”
Biting back a growl, he speared a serving of the greens and crispy poultry with the fork and held it to her mouth. Her lips closed around the metal tines with an mmm of pleasure that wrapped around his cock and refused to let go. Yes, she definitely drove him insane. In more ways than one. He battled the potent desire to suck the remaining few speckles of dressing from her berry-vinaigrette-glossed lips.
“Does it meet your approval, my precious?” His voice sounded strained and gruff to his own ears.
Her smile was as sweetly delivered as his endearment. “Color me impressed. Didn’t know you had it in you to cook. You’ve always avoided any domestic activity like it’s a fate worse than death.”
Damn sassy woman. Even if she was right. “It’s a salad. Not much cooking involved.”
She surprised him by snatching the fork from his grip. At bloody last, she was putting this ridiculous dominatrix stuff to bed for the night.
Truthfully, her roleplaying wasn’t the only thing wreaking havoc on his tightly strung patience. Sitting next to her and not running his hands all over her silky skin was killing him. Their brief contact in the bathroom only added kindling to the fire crackling between them. If he wasn’t careful, he stood a good chance of getting burned.
He needed to remove himself from temptation. Now. Desperately clutching the frayed strands of his willpower, he started to shove up from the cushion.
Avi stalled him with her hand on his thigh. His entire world narrowed to the distracting pressure of her splayed fingers. He didn’t immediately notice the fork waving inches from his face. “Wha—?”
She shoved the greens into his mouth, effectively shutting him up. He chewed the offering, his wary focus never leaving her face. She scooted closer and tucked her legs over his lap. A rush of familiarity swept over him. How many times had she curled into him like this? Too many to count. And just like those other occasions when he’d sweated through her need to cuddle, he questioned his ability to keep his hands safely out of the danger zone.
Popping another savory morsel of poultry into his mouth, she looked him square in the eye, her own twinkling with a devilment that put him on high alert. “Put your hand on my leg.”
He returned her stare for a long moment, attempting to decipher if this was part of her cover or something else. Something that’d ultimately prove a far tougher test to his control.
“Don’t make me punish you for your disobedience, Jer.”
The mock sternness in her tone did funny things to his gut. Or maybe the sudden stiffening of his cock had something to do with the lazy swirl of her fingertip along his abdomen. Hard to tell.
Extra emphasis on hard.
If he was smart, he would have called an end to their training right there and packed it in for the night, but apparently his intelligence had migrated south for the winter. “What punishment are you intending to dish out?”
“Well…” She set aside the forgotten plate of salad and straddled his lap. Her fingers drifted along the delicate swells of her hips, the soft scritch of her nails raking the supple leather providing an erotic soundtrack. “If you won’t touch me, maybe I should make you watch me do it.”
Surely she didn’t mean that the way it sounded. “Avi—”
She pressed a fingertip to his mouth. “No, you had your chance. Now you’re going to pay the price.”
Oh, he held no doubt of that. Particularly when her hands ghosted upward, tracing her rib cage and higher still to the fullness of her breasts. She rolled the pads of her fingers over her nipples, mimicking the motions he’d used earlier in the bathroom. His lungs suddenly felt equally as constricted as his damn briefs.
She licked her lips, the sultry haze of desire in her eyes nearly doing him in. “Did you like touching me? Do you wish you could do it right now? Would you caress my breasts, or maybe slide your hand up under my skirt and find out how wet I am?”
Sweet goddess. He hissed a breath between his teeth. “Don’t play this dangerous game with me.”
“Why? Worried I’ll crack through that legendary control of yours?” One palm swept lower and hovered temptingly near her mound.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. He’d never been more grateful for the hindrance of a skirt. Ironic, considering he usually cursed them to hell and back for slowing his seduction progress.
The heated glimmer in her eyes making him infinitely nervous and aroused, Avi lifted onto her knees and tiptoed her fingers along the creamy-smooth expanse of her thighs. Hypnotized, he watched the slow crawl of her hemline ascending toward her hips. The black lace triangle of her panties popped into view, and his shaky exhalation snuck loose before he could rope it into submission. Damn. He was a fucking sucker for sexy underthings.
Then again, he was a fucking sucker when it came to Avi. Period.
“Do you like what you see?” She leaned forward until her lips grazed his earlobe. “Or should I give you something even better to watch?”
His brain screamed one answer while his cock piped in with an entirely different response. Not trusting the words that might jog loose of his mouth, he swallowed hard. This close, he could smell the sweet heat of her. Beneath the luscious floral essence, he easily detected the feminine musk of her arousal. It was driving him out of his mind. He longed to hike her up into his arms and bury his head between her legs, fill his nose with the heady intoxication of her pussy, right before he filled her with his tongue.
She leaned back, awarding him some room to enjoy the show. He knew he was in some serious trouble the instant she hesitantly stroked over the fabric covering her crotch. She was soaked. The slick, succulent sound taunting him verified it. No need for him to see or feel her wet, velvety flesh firsthand.
But he wanted to.
Dear gods, how he wanted to.
To find out more about Jodi Redford hit up her website: http://www.jodiredford.com/
Can The Villain Really Be The Hero?
Of late, I’ve been a little obsessed with Megamind. Now here’s the thing about Megamind – he’s the bad guy. He’s a criminal genius determined to bring chaos and villainy to the world. Megamind is in constant battle with the hero of Metro City, Metro Man. Metro Man is the archetype hero – broad-chested, wide-shouldered, chiseled-jawed with an ego to match. Megamind is hell-bent on ridding Metro City of Metro Man and to this end, constantly kidnaps the city’s star reporter, Roxanne Ritchi (yeah, I know, it doesn’t make much sense but then, neither did Lex Luthor’s inclusion of Lois Lane in all his dastardly plans). I won’t give away the why and how of the end (for those that haven’t seen it) but Megamind become the hero and gets the girl. The villain no more.
Another villain I am totally enamored with who balances on the line of heroism is Dr. Horrible. Dr. Horrible is a wannabe villain who recognizes the world is a mess. Of course, he just wants to rule it, but it’s only because the status is NOT quo (and I just crammed as many quotes in those three sentences as I could). The thing about Dr. Horrible is he is basically a good guy with good guy intentions and a good-guy crush on a sweet girl, but (and thar be ***spoilers*** here) the actions of the hero—one Captain Hammer (“the hammer is my penis”)—pushes him to a place so dark he becomes the villain he thought he was. But by the end of Dr. Horrible’s Sing-A-Long Blog I can’t help but wonder if Dr. Horrible IS the hero: his bitter-sweet transformation highlights the superficial nature of society.
Professor Snape (Harry Potter’s universe) is a perfect example of a villain whose actions define him—eventually—as a hero. I won’t expand on Snape because to do so would ruin the story for those that haven’t read the books (and I’m sure there are at least a twelve people out there who haven’t read J.K. Rowling’s series yet), but the Professor is a mysterious, dark sometimes malevolent man with an ambiguous goal and equally ambiguous motives.
Villains quite often walk the tight-rope of heroisms and it is this tenuous walk that makes a large number of them so damn sexy. We never know where their actions are going to take them—we never know what they will do. They may truly be trying to bring about the end of the world, but they may just decide to leave the world alone because the girl of their dreams longs for a better place. They may however, decide to create utter anarchy when said girl misses a coffee date. You just never know.
I’ve written my fair share of villains. In fact, I once had a reviewer write, “The villain was, as always, reprehensible. Ms. Couper writes slime quite well.” Hee, I’m not sure what it says about my psyche that I’m proud of that snippet. But it does lead me to my latest villain, a bad boy I’m very very proud of: Asmodeus.
Asmodeus is very much a villain. There is little to redeem him. He is the Daemon of Lust and as such wields his power with an arrogant, charismatic charm that is capable of destroying a human’s life while giving them the most intense, never-ending orgasm of that life. Asmodeus however, has a wit sharper than a knife and a killer smile and if, one day, he truly finds the woman of his dreams (as twisted and rapacious as they may seem) he will no doubt show the worlds of man and daemon-kind alike just how damn heroic he can be. I don’t know whether that’s a good thing…or a scary thing.
Seven Deadly Daemons, Book Two
Cate Sinclair is ruled by lust. Day and night, awake and dreaming, an unseen force plies her with pleasure to the point of pain. Each orgasm wrenched from her exhausted body stealing her energy, her very essence, until insanity seems a sweet relief.
When Eamon enters her life, Cate’s uncertain if the gorgeous, enigmatic man is her salvation…or the cause of her worst nightmares.
Reader Advisory: Our heroine endures endless amounts of forced seduction. But how do you fight advances from an enemy you can’t see?
“Now now, Xander,” a new voice uttered, smoother than melting ice—and just as cold. “Surely you’re not so weak you’ll let a mere Muse influence you?”
Eamon stiffened, his head swiveling toward the speaker. A silent curse fell from his lips, his eyes flaring golden heat, and he let Xander fall to a heap on the floor. “The Daemon Form of Lust decides to make an appearance, does he?”
Cate’s gaze was riveted on the new arrival and her stomach knotted. The man stood beside Xander’s easel, his hand playing on the canvas, long, talon-tipped fingers stroking its edge with slow caresses. A lover’s touch, intimately gentle and knowing.
Even through the gray fog of her pain, she couldn’t miss the similarity. The Lust Daemon was almost a carbon copy of Eamon.
The name whispered through the deep reaches of her mind and with each syllable, her sex constricted. Consuming her with a horrific hunger unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
Asmodeus. The creature who’d given Xander power over her body.
Hate filled her. Hate and (God save me) desperate carnal need. She was going to kill him. She was going to—
She threw herself at the Lust Daemon, a raw cry erupting from her throat.
“Cate, no!” Eamon yelled, his voice like cracking thunder.
It was too late. Her body slammed into Asmodeus, her shoulder driving into his hard gut.
And the second her body touched his, a ravenous lust surged through her, mind, body and soul. She screamed, her sex constricting with such force her whole body shuddered.
God, she wanted to fuck. And be fucked.
Sharp claws raked at her back, her shoulder. Long fingers knotted in her hair, yanking her head backward until she was staring up at Eamon’s smirking double. His lips curled, his eyes flashing every shade of red. “Oh she’s a responsive one, isn’t she?”
“Let her go.” Eamon’s growl stroked all of Cate’s senses, the menace in his voice making her heart thump harder and the dark lust possessing her vanish.
Asmodeus laughed, a smug, confident chortle. “Don’t think so, Muse. Her pleasure does belong to me, after all.” And with that, Cate’s body was once more on the edge of orgasm. Instantly. Painfully.
Lexxie’s not a deviant. She just has a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get darkly erotic romances with a twist of horror, sci-fi and the paranormal!
When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family: a husband who thinks she’s insane, a pony-sized mutt who thinks he’s a lap dog, and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.
Living in Australia makes it a bit tricky for Lexxie to pop by for coffee, but she still loves to chat! Contact her by email or find her at her website or her blog (http://lexxiecouper.com).
Grey is a Good Starting Place
He’s your knight in shining armor, handsome, wonderful, and there to do whatever it takes to help you out of a horrifying experience. Then, once you’re free, he’ll take you away for a happy ever after life together. Or he’s bad, gorgeous, and with evil on his mind. He’s there to kill you and your family, ending all thoughts of living a long and happy life.
Black or white, hero or villain, that’s the way it has to be, right?
No, it doesn’t, in fact those existing in the grey area end up following an interesting path to their end.
In Linda Howard’s “All The Queen’s Men”, the bad guy – Louis Ronsard – is selling a highly explosive material to the highest bidder. No question, that makes him beyond bad, right? What if I told you he was doing it to make money to help save his seriously ill young daughter? When the heroine, Niema, asks if that’s the reason he became an arms dealer, he says:
“Yes, I had to have enormous sums of money and quickly. The choice was drugs or weapons. I chose weapons.”
Not so cut and dry anymore, is it, at least Niema doesn’t think so.
There’s another type of neither good nor bad character and that would be the one who made a big, huge, ugly mistake. You know who they are, maybe they were the town toughie growing up or stole a car as a teen, and those are the ones in need of a second chance. Personally, as a writer, I like working with this type of figure. Perfection sounds lovely, but flaws can also be fabulous.
April 15th “Tied Up For Love”, from the Mythological Messes Redux series, will be released and it is the epitome of grey being a good place to start again. Marsyas, the hero, didn’t kill anyone, but he did insult a God and must therefore die. Before the sentence is handed down, he leaves to prepare himself mentally for the end of his life and people. As he comes to terms with the consequences of his actions, he finds himself falling in love, and is ashamed to share who he really is and disappoint his lover.
“I was stupid to throw down the challenge and once it was accepted, should have held back, flubbed a bit, but I was lost in the moment. It isn’t in me not to give my all.”
There is no place for the ipotane to go but toward being a hero or death. For Marsyas, the place in between being good and bad is where he needs to be in order to get a second chance.
A character who is either black or white, good or bad, are great to write and read. However, when it comes to romances, there’s definitely a place for heroes, villains, and those caught in between – in the grey area.
WARNING! Red hot romances ahead!
Tilly Greene Mythological Messes Redux Series
Hephaestus Lays Down the Law – paranormal erotic romance w/bondage
Together Again? – paranormal erotic romance
Cyra’s Cyclopes – paranormal erotic romance w/ménage
Double Punch – paranormal erotic romance w/ménage a trios
Tied Up For Love – paranormal erotica romance w/bondage – April 15 2011!
Primal, dark and dangerous. What’s not to love?
I was twisted early into favouring the anti-hero, the man with ambiguous morality, the man who isn’t afraid to walk—and possibly cross—the line into darkness.
Kerr Avon, one of the main characters from Blake’s 7 was my first, if improbable crush. A thief, a convict, a murderer…in the end Avon went completely to the darkside. He realised it in the final moments when he killed the only man he’d ever admired. And then the BBC went and killed him. I’ve never quite forgiven them for that.
So…jump forward more than a few years and the imprint of Avon is still with me. I look for it in books, in films in the heroes that often pull me to write their stories. Primal, sometimes bitter, tough, clever, not willing to play by conventional rules but following his own integral sense of honour. He will do what needs to be done. Regardless. And there’s a vicious charm there too, edged with a dangerous sexuality…
In real life, I’d run like hell from men like this. In fiction? I eat them alive.
I think the darkest hero I’ve written is John Ramius in Breaking Chance. He started out as an idea between friends. We wanted to write stories with a very dark hero…and a high body count. So enter Ramius, a criminally insane convicted mass murderer who’d killed fifty three men in as many minutes. Avon would be so proud!
Then I had the fun of making Ramius exactly what the heroine needed…
What a girl wants and what a girl needs are sometimes two different things…
For Melissa “Lucky” Chance, another stretch in Ganymede’s ice prison is nothing new. The flash-freeze that’s supposed to destroy her will only leaves her with an insatiable desire for the first hot body she lays eyes on. Except this time, she faces a death sentence. Her only hope of escape lies with the man known as The Butcher.
John Ramius understands the logic behind his conviction as a criminally insane mass murderer. No man should have been able to slaughter over fifty men in as many minutes, but no one sees the underlying curse that compels him to sense—and fulfill—someone’s deepest need. Chance’s skill will free him to kill the Sun-King; he will find no rest until he does.
As they run from the forces of the Jovian colonies, Ramius finds himself temporarily sidetracked, not only by Chance’s relentless desire, but by her underlying, unspoken need. Ignoring it—or his own compulsion to do every wicked thing imaginable to her—is not an option.
Only after all their defenses are stripped away do they discover that their meeting wasn’t by chance. Someone is manipulating them both, and the only way out is the path to their destruction…
This book contains explicit sex, thieves, murderers, a sentient ship and a hero who will give you exactly what you need.
Breaking Chance Excerpt
©2010 Kim Knox
“You have a kink?”
Ramius snorted and his fingers paused as they unfastened the second gun. “Yes, you could say I have a kink.”
“All right, now I’m curious.”
He met her gaze, and the warmth of humour left her. The cold face of a killer held her, all sense— possibly pretence—of banter gone. Her heart thudded in the endless, silent seconds and, damn it, his dark side tugged at her. A light shone in his eyes, and Chance recognised the quick surge of lust, felt it echoed in her own flesh. His change was palpable. Had her curiosity sparked something in him?
Ramius pushed himself up and her heart gave an excited jump. She was crazy, she was, to continue to push him. He was the Butcher and she’d seen the grisly evidence of his work…but… He was closing the distance between them with predatory grace. Blood pounded in her temples and her body ached. Sex made her feel alive, and every part of her burned right then.
Ramius took the mug from her lax fingers and put it behind her. His body blocked her and he gripped the edge of the counter, trapping her. Chance held his shadowed gaze, finding the familiar curl of lust and something else she couldn’t name. He leaned in, his mouth almost, almost, brushing her lips, and she drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t play games, Chance. I can’t.” His mouth moved and his whisper stirred the shell of her ear. She swallowed. “I’ve thought about fucking you, hard, fast, up against the nearest wall.” He paused, and in the short silence there was only the pounding of blood in her ears. “I know that’s the way you want it.” Ramius leaned in closer. “But I won’t ever do that.”
Her fingers curled into her palms, nails digging sharp into her skin, and she held her hands tight to her breastbone. If she pushed her hands against the hardness of his chest, felt the thud of his heart, the warmth of his skin…she would have to nip at his tempting earlobe.
His scent, spiced, seductive, wrapped around her. He was so tempting… Chance teased with the tip of her tongue, tasting his skin. She moaned. John Ramius tasted even better than he looked.
“Chance…” The soft growl forced her fingers to clutch at his shirt. “Stop now, and I won’t take this further.”
His words sounded reasonable, but she didn’t miss the need thickening his voice. A need that also spun though her blood. She nipped at his earlobe and his hiss burned her skin. “I think you will.”
Kim lives on an ancient boundary line, once marked by a Neolithic burial tomb. The tomb’s now a standing stone circle–thank the Georgians for that one–and stirs her mind with thoughts of history and ancient myths. She mixes the essence of the past into fantasy, along with the essential mix of magic and sex. She also writes science fiction romance, pushing out into the far future with effortlessly sexy men and the women who can’t resist them.
Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kim-Knox/100915259965690
What’s so good about being the guy in the White Hat?
As a western romance writer, I have all sorts of heroes in hats, the cowboy kind that is. Not all of them are honorable men though. *gasp* Yes, it’s true, sometimes my heroes don’t wear the white hat.
I am very much the kind of writer who tries to stay true to real life. I’ve had heroines who are homeless, disabled, bitchy and even scarred physically. I’ve had heroes who are drunks, suffer from PTSD, or missing a limb. Yes, the book is an escape from reality but in order to identify with the hero/heroine, I feel like they have to feel real to me, and consequently, to the reader.
So my heroes can also be bad guys, who find their way to a good place with the love of a heroine. I’ve had three heroes who are truly badasses, men you would not want courting your daughter.
The first was Hermano, who made an appearance in my first book, The Bounty. In the first scene, Hermano was torturing the hero, Tyler Calhoun, to give him information. Nice guy, eh? He pops up throughout the book, and the next, The Prize, dancing in the shadows in the periphery.
Well, what happened next was Hermano kept whispering in my ear while I slept, telling me he needed his own story, por favor. I couldn’t resist the pull of such a dark, sexy man, one who valued loyalty but would kill in a blink if need be.
Thus, my third book, The Reward, became Hermano’s story. He was Malcolm Ross y Zarza, a half-scottish, half-mexican man with a past of his own, one that thrust him into the role of a bandito.
He’s unapologetic for his actions and his choices – one of the things I love about him. He’s real, y’know?
The second hero with a gun and a dark soul is also from the Malloy family books, Kincaid. Oh, Kincaid, how I love thee. He first appeared in book five, The Gift, as a man hired to kill the heroine, Adelaide. Somewhere along the way he became friends with Brett Malloy, the most reticent and quietest of the brothers. So when Brett’s story, The Tribute, was published, Kincaid played a major role. He found a friend in Brett that he’d not found before. At the end of The Tribute, Kincaid disappears only to resurface in his own book, Hell for Leather.
A man who survived a wickedly awful childhood, Kincaid tries to start over, to emulate the man he wants to be like his friend Brett. He finds a place to be, and a new name, Cade Brody, and tries to keep his dark past buried beneath the roots of a pine tree. It takes a strong woman, Sabrina, to force him to confront that blackness and find the love he deserves.
My third serious badass hero is Grady Wolfe from Ruthless Heart, my first book published as Emma Lang. Grady is the penultimate bad guy – who will take any and all jobs for money. He’d been an assassin since he was fifteen, darkest of dark. It takes a scientific, brainy heroine like Eliza Hunter to smash through the castle of hell he lives in, and find the man he could be.
Who doesn’t like a dark, tortured hero? Each of these men personified what I want to see happen to all badass men, redemption.
My next release in print, Devils on Horseback: Lee, has the angriest hero I’ve had. Lee lost an arm and the rest of the world is gonna suffer for it. He’s unlikeable and snarly – so what do you think I’m going to do with him? Why yes, bring on a heroine who is as brassy as he is, Genevieve is going to tame that beast, just wait and see.
Beth has never been able to escape her imagination and it led her to the craft of writing romance novels. She’s passionate about purple, books, and her family (not to mention long cruises). She works full-time and writes romance novels evening, weekends, early mornings and whenever there is a break in the madness.
She is compassionate, funny, a bit reserved at times, tenacious and a little quirky. Her cowboys and western romances speak of a bygone era, bringing her readers to an age where men were honest, hard and honkin’ built.
For a change of pace, she also dives into some smokin’ hot contemporaries, bringing you heat, romance and snappy dialogue.
Why Being Bad Can Feel so Good
by Beth Kery
My upcoming print release from Samhain, Velvet Cataclysm, involves clones, one who is evil to root of his bones and the other who struggles against his vampiritic, parasitic nature.
We all have a selfish, ego-maniac residing deep, deep inside us—go on, admit it—which is one of the reasons it’s so fun to write and read about a truly nasty anti-hero. Especially when said anti-hero is a gorgeous, walking god. Teslar, the bad-guy in Velvet Catalysm, does bad things because it gets him what he wants…or it feels good. He accepts his nature without doubt, and you’ve got to love a guy who’s decisive.
His face may have been Saint’s, but his luxurious mane of blondish-brown hair hung down his shoulders and back. While Saint wore a neatly trimmed goatee that was a shade darker than the burnished hair on his head, this man was clean-shaven. He wore a pair of circular, mirrored sunglasses that hid his eyes.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?”
His voice was very much like Saint’s—resonant, rich, and mesmerizing. She felt his eyes on her even through the dark glasses.
Heat bloomed beneath the surface of her skin. (From Velvet Cataclysm)
Freud was the one to break down why the bad in us can feel so good. Those id-impulses are alive and well in all of us; that part that would to bare our teeth and claws when we’re pissed or let the clothes fly and get down to it following a passing sexual attraction. There’s a good reason we don’t let things fly, of course; things like morality, the law, loyalty, compassion, etc. Yes, these things are worth the struggle to damp down the beast in all of us.
Yes, we know the superego is good and necessary for civilization and individuals to grow.
BUT, it sure is fun to let that bad girl or guy out occasionally, and books or movie give us that outlet.
The thing that I like about Saint, my hero, is that he’s not the opposite of Teslar. He actually completely identifies with Teslar, and understand that Teslar is—in essence–him. He understands he has the parasitic nature, the bloodthirst, the nearly uncontrollable hunger and lust. Saint’s power is that he chooses to fight it to gain something higher. Sometimes he fails, but the friction of his struggle grants a damned, inhuman creature the unimaginable—a soul.
The soul in this context incorporates Freud’s idea about the ego. The ego negotiates the impulsive beast (id) and the stuffy authority figure (superego) in all of us. It represents something higher than a combination of both. This is the transformation that Saint must undergo to be worthy of a soul…and an amazing woman, Christina.
Do you have a favorite bad guy/gal in a book or movie, someone you secretly root for? If I were an actress, my ultimate role would be a brilliant, ruthless…busty villainess. What about you? Comment to win a print book OR ebook version of Velvet Cataclysm, the first book in the Princes of the Underground series from Beth Kery and Samhain Publishing.
Velvet Cataclysm, in bookstores, March 1
Beth Kery is the National Bestselling author of more than twenty novels. She writes for Berkley, Harlequin and Samhain Publishing, both as Beth Kery and Bethany Kane. Beth holds a doctorate in the behavioral sciences and spends a busy life balancing her family life and two careers.
Captain Mal, The Ultimate Antihero
I love anti-heroes, men who make you question their motives and their morality but always come through in the end as men of honor even if their methods are a bit tarnished. One of my favorite anti-heroes is Captain Malcolm Reynolds from Firefly. Mal fought for the independents because he believed in a world where people could live free of the Alliance’s control. He did his best to care for the men and women who served under him. And later when he becomes captain of the Firefly class ship, Serenity, Mal truly cared about his crew even if he’s didn’t always show it.
Mal doesn’t behave as a traditional hero should. He prefers to shoot first and ask questions later. He takes jobs that put him on the wrong side of the law, content to steal when necessary to support his crew. He kills when he needs to and doesn’t spend time on remorse.
But “Bad” as he may be, Mal protects his crew even when he doesn’t like them personally, and he never leaves a man or woman behind. Once someone is under his protection, he’ll risk his life for them even if he thinks their predicament is their own fault.
Captain Marc Devlin from my Shifter’s Station Collection is a similar type of anti-hero. He served Terra Gov as a special forces officer until they chose to experiment on him and other members of his battalion, turning them into shape-shifting killing machines. A natural leader, he gathered a group of the genetically-altered shifters and helped them escape and form a mercenary company.
But he’s no do-gooder. He’s harsh and controlling, and he isn’t the least bit concerned with the legality of the jobs he takes on. As long as the money’s good and he can support his crew, he’s content. He’ll shoot any man or woman who threatens him or his crew without a second thought. He’s gruff and tough as hell on the men and women who work for him, but he has their loyalty, because they know he’ll do anything to keep them safe.
Captain Devlin is also not above abusing his power when it suits him like when Larissa delivers a faulty shipment of weapons to his station. He and his lover, Commander Kirlos Adesta, determine that she had no part in the sabotage attempt, but Marc wants her in his bed so he refuses to release her, eventually making her a wager he’s confident he’ll win.
Read an excerpt below of the meeting between Marc, Kirlos and Larissa and see if this anti-hero doesn’t make your pulse flutter…..
Silvia Violet writes erotic romance in a variety of genres including sci fi, paranormal, and historical. She can often be found haunting coffee shops looking for the darkest, strongest cup of coffee she can find. Once equipped with the needed fuel, she can happily sit for hours pounding away at her laptop. Silvia typically leaves home disguised as a suburban stay-at-home-mom, and other coffee shop patrons tend to ask her hilarious questions like “Do you write children’s books?” She loves watching the looks on their faces when they learn what she’s actually up to. When not writing, Silvia enjoys baking sinful chocolate treats, exploring new styles of cooking, and reading children’s books to her wickedly smart offspring.
Shifter’s Station Collection by Silvia Violet
Years ago, the Terran Government betrayed special forces officer Marc Devlin, forcing him to flee for his life. He rescued several fellow officers and built a new life as the head of his own mercenary force. When he captures a beautiful Cerian diplomat, he thinks to torture the man to learn Cerian secrets. Instead, he finds a lover. Months later, Marc and his Cerian lover, Kirlos, take a young woman captive, fearful she might be an agent of one of Marc’s oldest enemies. The two men strike a bargain with her that lands her in their bed for a month. As they dole out exquisite torment with their Cerian sex table, passion builds and turns to love. But Marc and Kirlos must fight to keep her and the life they’ve made for themselves.
This e-book collection contains the previously released Shifter’s Station series novellas Pilot’s Bargain, Pilot’s Heart, Loving the Enemy, and Eye of the Tigress.
Buy it at Changeling Press: http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1315
Buy it at All Romance Ebooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-shifter039sstationcollection-419034-144.html
Excerpt from Shifter’s Station 1: Pilot’s Bargain
The commander cut off whatever Captain Devlin was going to say. “I have the ability to probe your mind to determine if you’re telling the truth. And if you are lying, I can compel the truth from you.”
Larissa studied him for a moment. He seemed sincere and somewhat dismayed by the captain’s brusque manner. “Do it.”
She felt pressure on her head, as if someone were mashing the heel of their hand against her forehead. Then the pressure turned to pain. It grew sharper until it felt like a needle was boring into her skull.
She felt tension radiating from Adesta. “Stop fighting it.”
“I… can’t. I don’t –”
Then the pain spread as if her skull had cracked. She fell to her knees, panting. The world began to go black. But just before she passed out, the pain disappeared.
“Fires of hell, she’s strong.”
The captain snorted. “Did you get through?”
“Yes, she’s telling the truth.”
Thank the god. They would have to let her go now. Larissa heard the men speaking, but they sounded very far away. A dull pounding still echoed in her head. Nothing like the tearing pain of the scan, but she still wasn’t sure she could stand.
Then she felt a hand on her arm. It was the commander. She wanted to refuse his assistance, but she didn’t want to be on her knees in front of the captain. He was arrogant enough without her prostrating herself like a slave.
When the commander helped her to her feet, she stepped away and forced herself to focus on Devlin. His dark eyes were narrow and cold. “Who taught you to shield your thoughts?”
Devlin raised his brows. “You need this ability often on cargo runs?”
“When you take these kinds of jobs, you do.”
He laughed. “I suppose you are right. Federated Transport isn’t exactly a legitimate business.”
“And yours is?”
Adesta’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “You seem to be losing your touch, Captain. You usually have them trembling in their boots by now.”
Larissa just managed to keep from rolling her eyes. The captain might be one delightfully put together man, but she had no intention of rolling over for him. “Can I go now?”
Devlin scowled. “No.”
“The commander has established my innocence.”
“He has established that you were unaware that the weapons were faulty. But I still have one dead crewman and several more injured. Someone has to pay.”
“Yes. That someone is my bastard of a boss.”
“But he’s not here, and you are.”
“Captain.” The warning glare in the commander’s eyes gave Larissa hope he might convince his superior to let her go.
Larissa’s heart pounded. “You can’t be serious.”
He gave a cold smile. “I’m always serious.”
Larissa clasped her hands behind her back to hide their shaking. “You can’t just keep me here.”
“I can do anything I damn well please.”
The captain stepped toward her. She stabbed her nails into her palms, hoping the pain would dull her fear and help her hold her ground.
Devlin grasped the single braid that hung down her back and jerked her head to the side. “I am the law here. No one questions what I do. If I wanted to shove you out an airlock, that’s exactly what I’d do. No one would dare protest.”
She held her breath, and commanded her suddenly rubbery legs to keep her upright.
He let her go and stepped back. “Fortunately for you, I have something far more pleasant in mind as repayment for your crimes.”
Larissa’s lungs burned, but she couldn’t seem to fill them with air. She forced herself to look him in the eye. “I have no intention of letting you punish me for a crime I didn’t commit.”
Adesta smirked. “I like her spirit.”
The captain stared at her intently. “So do I. The spirited ones are so much more fun to break.”
Larissa’s heart hammered against her chest. She knew her eyes were wide and her fear shone all too plainly. She felt like a rabbit cornered by a wolf — a big bad wolf with plans to eat her.
Now why the hell did that thought make her body feel hot and tight? She was so damn wet she’d likely soaked through her flight suit. What was wrong with her?
Devlin took a long, deliberate inhale. “Mmm. I think she likes us more than she wants us to know.”
Shit! The last thing she needed was for him to be aware of how she was responding to them. She needed to convince them to let her go. But before she could think of anything to say, Devlin’s lips curled up in a wicked smile.
“Since you seem so interested in the issue of fairness, why don’t we strike a bargain?”
“What bargain would that be?” Larissa mentally cursed the quaver she heard in her voice.
His smile widened. “I will spend the next two hours convincing you that you want to stay. If you can resist, you go free. If you can’t, you agree to remain on the station as my servant for the next month.”
Larissa took a deep breath. Her initial reaction was to tell him to go to hell, but something told her this might be her only way off the station. “How will you convince me to stay?”
“That’s my secret, but you have my word you will come to no harm.”
“Why should I trust you?”
The captain’s face froze, and a sound too like an animal’s growl rose from his chest.
Larissa glanced at Adesta. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t go down that road if I were you.”
“Fine. If I were to lose, which I have no intention of doing, how would you expect me to serve you?”
The captain’s smile returned instantly. “With every last inch of your naked body.”
Purchase Link: http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1315
Contest: Comment and be entered to win a book from Silvia’s Backlist! Good Luck!
Silvia’s Website: http://silviaviolet.com
To watch episodes of Firefly online go to Hulu here: http://www.hulu.com/firefly
Ah, Villains. My favorite. They add tension, conflict, danger, and suspense to any story. And in the case of The Zero Dog War, they bring the humor by the busload.
Yes, I just finished writing a comedy Urban Fantasy. It stars a heroine who is a mercenary captain trying to save her team from bankruptcy and save her heart from a potential rival—Green Beret Jake Sanders. But the craziness really ramps up when the villain strolls onto the scene. Meet Jeremiah Hansen, capitalist necromancer whose business plan involves using the zombies he controls to work in a factory that produces powdered gelatin. The Zero Dog mercenaries are ordered to stop him, and wild zombie-fighting mayhem ensues.
And if that scenario wasn’t wacky enough, Evil Overlord Jeremiah has a few odd personality quirks that sometimes hinder, sometimes advance his plot for world domination.
1) Jeremiah is a necromancer overlord and entrepreneur who hates golf. Hates it. He’s horrible at it. And despite the golf course being the “green boardroom,” he still can’t get a handle on the game. When he rules the world, golf will be banned.
2) He transports his zombie hordes around in a yellow school bus. This is by necessity, and not a stylistic choice, as school buses generally score low on the Villain Cool Scale.
3) He robs banks. With zombies. Enough said.
4) He has a crush on the heroine. And I think we can all guess this can only end badly.
5) Keeping zombies in line is a thankless, 24 hour a day task. Yes, when your employees are largely hungry mindless undead, it can be a struggle dealing with HR issues, productivity challenges, and manufacturing safety. If a few zombies end up in the powered gelatin mix, he’ll never be able to get the factory ISO 9000 certified—not to mention it throws off the color and taste of the lime flavor product.
6) All this and more! Seriously, there’s a ton more jokes/humor/comedy in this book. Everything from nudist-inclined werewolves to mages who can summon alien ferrets and demonic kittens.
Also includes: Action, romance, more action, forklift accidents, dark elves, and fire.
Here’s the blurb:
The first bullet is always free. After that, you gotta pay.
Zero Dog Missions, Book 1
After accidentally blowing up both a client facility and a cushy city contract in the same day, pyromancer and mercenary captain Andrea Walker is scrambling to save her Zero Dogs. A team including (but not limited to) a sexually repressed succubus, a werewolf with a thing for health food, a sarcastic tank driver/aspiring romance novelist, a three-hundred-pound calico cat, and a massive demon who really loves to blow stuff up.
With the bankruptcy vultures circling, Homeland Security throws her a high-paying, short-term contract even the Zero Dogs can’t screw up: destroy a capitalist necromancer bent on dominating the gelatin industry with an all-zombie workforce. The catch? She has to take on Special Forces Captain Jake Sanders, a man who threatens both the existence of the team and Andrea’s deliberate avoidance of romantic entanglements.
As Andrea strains to hold her dysfunctional team together long enough to derail the corporate zombie apocalypse, the prospect of getting her heart run over by a tank tread is the least of her worries. The government never does anything without an ulterior motive. Jake could be the key to success…or just another bad day at the office for the Zeroes.
Contains explicit language, intense action and violence, rampaging zombie hordes, a heroine with an attitude and flamethrower, Special Forces commandos, ninjas, apocalyptic necromancer capitalist machinations, absurd parody and mayhem, self-deluded humor, irreverence, geek humor, mutant cats, low-brow comedy, and banana-kiwi-flavored gelatin.
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Anyone Want a Slightly Damaged Hero?
N. J. Walters
We all love a hero, that brave stalwart soul who will stand side-by-side with the heroine to face down any foe. He’ll use whatever weapons he has at hand—a clever wit, sword, gun, tire iron—to rescue the heroine and vanquish the villain.
Then there is the everyday hero, the man who does what needs doing whether it’s taking out the garbage, changing a tire, or helping the single mom with her kids. Maybe it’s the corporate raider who reforms for just the right woman. There are all kinds of heroes and each of them has a place in romance literature.
I don’t know about most readers, but I’m partial to the anti-hero, that brooding, dark male who is reluctant to help but does it anyway. In spite of his penchant for being a loner and not caring about the world, he is drawn into the heroine’s problems. He may grumble and complain, but he does it because of his own code of honor.
This guy is a hero in spite of himself. He doesn’t think of himself as a hero. He doesn’t want to be a hero. Yet, somehow, it happens as he becomes more and more entangled in the heroine’s life.
I’ve written a lot of these men. What can I say? I can’t help myself. These men are fascinating to watch as they evolve.
My latest in a long line of dark heroes is Isaiah Striker from my newest Legacy werewolf book, Isaiah’s Haven. His past has made him turn his back on the position of enforcer with his pack. He feels he doesn’t deserve the position because of his sister’s disappearance years ago. All he wants is to be left alone. (Brooding hero anyone?)
His downfall from his self-imposed solitude comes about because of one underlying reason—his loyalty to his family. That character trait sends him on a mission to Chicago and it is there he meets the beautiful and independent Meredith Cross. She’s not looking for a male to handle her problems. She’ll take care of them herself, thank you very much. But when she and her family are threatened, Isaiah can’t make himself leave. In spite of his determination to stay away, he’s drawn to her and the plight of her small pack. He’s willing to sacrifice everything and to face his own demons to ensure their safety.
Thus the slightly battered and worn male becomes a hero in spite of himself. His true self emerges from the darkness as he embraces his future.
Isaiah Striker puts family first, the pack a distant second. Which is precisely the reason he’s in noisy, crowded Chicago instead of alone in his beloved woods. One look at the owner of Haven nightclub, however, and a simple favor for his brother turns into something else entirely.
Meredith Cross holds her small pack together with sheer determination. After years on the run, they hide in the glare of the city’s nightlife. Isaiah may heat her blood, but she can’t afford to risk the lives of the outcast half-breeds in her care. Once exposed, every bounty hunter and werewolf purist in smelling distance will hunt them down.
But when their sexual attraction spirals out of control, a moment’s distraction is all it takes to lead danger right to Meredith’s door. For Meredith there’s only one choice: her pack.
But Isaiah knows his mate when he sees her. And he’s not giving up without a fight.
Read an Excerpt: http://store.samhainpublishing.com/isaiahs-haven-p-6034.html
Buy the Book: http://store.samhainpublishing.com/isaiahs-haven-p-6034.html
N.J. has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.