Author Archives: Nicola Cameron
Hoo boy
At 4:30 AM CST this morning I finished the first round of edits for Breaker Zone and sent them back to Evernight. This editing round was a particularly challenging one, mainly because 1) the edits arrived while I was on vacation, 2) I was also trying to maintain my NaNoWriMo word count (which I did — 62K on Deep Water, go me!), and 3) I had to write a short story for Evernight’s uniform fetish anthology. Meanwhile, I had three major dangling plot issues to resolve in Breaker Zone, and I probably wound up rewriting about 25% of the book in the process.
Sleep? What means this word, sleep?
But lo, I won NaNoWriMo, wrote the short story and had it accepted, and sent off the edited Breaker Zone MS at Oh Dark Thirty before collapsing into bed. By rights, I should be allowed to spend the day sipping absinthe and painting my nails while my brain decompresses.
Unfortunately, we have a house guest arriving tonight, which means that I’ve spent a large chunk of yesterday and today swamping out from NaNoWriMo-induced housekeeping fail. So far the guest room and guest bath are sparkling, and I should have enough time to clean the living room and kitchen before she gets here. As for the rest of the place, I’ll just have to hope my sparkling personality makes up for the dust rhinos.
My life. You know you want it.
If you ever wonder why I don’t write as fast as other writers
It’s something of a challenge to write with one hand while the other is keeping two grey tabbies from going after one another. This, my friends, is how I spent much of the morning sitting. I ask you.
It’s good to have inspiration
You may remember earlier this year when I was promoting a certain someone’s Indiegogo project “Colby Does America (And Canada, Too). I also contributed to the project, and yesterday I got one of my perks.
That’ll do, Colby. That’ll do.
It’s Black Friday!
And I have two completely awesome deals for you!
First off, all eBooks on the Evernight Publishing and Evernight Teen websites will be discounted 25% from Friday, 11/28 – Monday 12/1. In addition, all Evernight and Evernight Teen eBooks will be on sale at AllRomance eBooks for Black Friday (25% off)!
Secondly, did you know I’m also a jewelry designer? Well, I am, and I sell my OOAK and custom handmade jewelry through Belaurient Arts at Etsy (https://www.etsy.com/shop/belaurientarts). So if you need to buy some unique jewelry for the holidays and want to support a small business, please check out some of my pretties!
And yes, I AM running a Black Friday/Cyber Monday sale! From today until 12/1 use coupon code BLACKFRIDAY40PERCENT to get 40% off all purchases!
Mid Week Tease: Fine Dining #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. Here’s a tease from my short story “Fine Dining,” which will be appearing in Evernight Publishing’s upcoming uniform fetish anthology. James Fairchild has something of a crush on the elegant, handsome waiter Gustav, but is too shy to do anything about it. After an unfortunate mishap with some spilled soup, James learns to his delight that Gustav is more than happy to make the first move.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
A sharp rap sounded at the door. On instinct he dropped into the chair like a marionette with its strings cut, covering his briefs with the wadded trousers. “C-come in,” he called.
Gustav peered around the door, holding up a large soup bowl with a white cloth draped over it. “Ah, good,” he said, bustling over. “Once again, monsieur, I apologize for this. Luckily Marco is an expert at treating stains before they set, and of course I will pay for your dry cleaning.”
“Absolutely not,” James said quickly. “It wasn’t your fault. That boor bumped you on purpose.”
Gustav gave a most Gallic shrug. “Nonetheless, I insist,” he said, putting the bowl down on the desk before gently prying the trousers from James’s hands. He held them up, studying at the stain. “Quel salaud,” he muttered.
A Paris veteran, James was fluent in French and recognized the phrase. “Calling him a bastard is probably an insult to bastards.”
Gustav smirked. “Yes, I suppose. But it will be the last time that connard and his friends eat here. Un moment, s’il vous plaît.”
He opened the door, handing the trousers off to someone outside with murmured instructions, then came back in. “Now for you, monsieur.”
“I–” James choked slightly as Gustav knelt in front of him, taking the bowl of ice water from the desk and putting it on the floor. The choke turned into a gasp as the waiter matter-of-factly slid two somewhat chilly hands between his knees and gently nudged them apart.
“This will cool the temperature of the burn and help it heal more quickly. It would be better if we could soak it in milk for a half hour, but I’m afraid that’s impractical considering the location,” Gustav said, wringing out the soft white cloth before wrapping it around an ice cube. “Brace yourself, monsieur.”
James shuddered as the wet cloth touched his burn, moving gently over it. Gustav clucked in apology, but James knew his reaction was equally due to Gustav’s free hand coming to rest on his uninjured thigh. The man was kneeling practically between his knees, so close that he could feel Gustav’s breath on his bare skin. He clasped his hands over his groin as camouflage for what promised to be a most inconvenient erection. “I’m all right, really,” he said thickly. “You don’t have to do this.”
Gustav eased back a bit, one hand still resting on his uninjured thigh. “It would be irresponsible of me to let you go while you are still in discomfort,” he said, dropping the cloth back into the bowl. “I should fetch some aloe vera lotion from the kitchen–”
“No, please,” James begged. “It’s all right.”
Grey-blue eyes narrowed at him, then glanced down at his clasped hands. A welter of emotions played across the man’s face, then; surprise, disbelief, acknowledgement, and finally an incandescent joy that shook James to his marrow.
“Ah,” Gustav said softly. His fingers left James’s thighs, gliding up so softly, touching his wrists, then the back of his hands. “I had hoped, but I wasn’t sure. Please, let me?”
Dizzy, James nodded, unsure of what he was agreeing to. He quickly found out what it was when Gustav pulled his hands away, revealing the long, hard shape of his desire under clean cotton. Already there was a spot of dampness at the tip, a faint grey shadow that spread as they watched.
Gustav bent his head and pressed a kiss to James’s pubic bone just at the base of his shaft. Warm breath gusted through the fabric, and James made a soft noise as Gustav’s lips closed around him, laying open-mouthed kisses up to the rounded head. A flickering tongue licked at the wetness there, savoring it.
“Délicieux,” Gustav murmured, glancing up at him with eyes that had gone dark. The waiter’s polite mask was gone, revealing the man underneath. “Please, James. Let me taste you.”
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Okay, I admit this tickles me
As you may know (Bob), when I’m not writing I like to make jewelry, particularly chainmail and wire-wrapped pieces. I know from experience that it’s always kind of a crapshoot when you make a piece as a surprise for someone — you can try your best but sometimes you don’t get the size right, it’s the wrong color, it’s just not something the person really likes, etc.
So I was very pleased this morning to wake up to pictures of the delightful and talented Colby Keller wearing the wire-wrapped malachite amulet necklace I made for him earlier this year. I feel the green of the malachite goes very well with the hazard orange of his hat, plus seeing my work on a torso that in itself is a work of art — yeah, Christmas came a little early this year.
Allow me to flail a bit, here
So Ramón and I were on a eagerly awaited Caribbean cruise to Grand Cayman and Cozumel last week on the Disney Wonder, courtesy of Disney Cruise Lines. If you’ve ever wanted to take a cruise, I strongly suggest that you go with DCL. Trust me, they’re not just for families and kids — all the ships have adult-only places including a coffee shop, pool, restaurant, and bars — and their food and service is phenomenal. This was our second cruise, and it was just as fabulous as the first.
During our five days at sea I wound up swimming with stingrays and dancing with dolphins at Grand Cayman (have I mentioned how much I love being able to write all of this off on my taxes as research? Also, I may have come up with a stingray shifter story — woohoo!), did some lovely souvenir shopping at Cozumel and accidentally wound up drinking at Hooters, hung out on our stateroom verandah and marveled at the color of the ocean (it really is lapiz lazuli blue), had an amazing dinner at the Wonder’s adults-only restaurant Palo, and generally had a whale of a good time relaxing and hanging out with my honey. And, er, we may have already booked a cruise for next year. Well, you get a 10% discount if you book on board!
Also, the Outlook Cafe on the Wonder is a great place to write because there are outlets everywhere, plus someone checks on you regularly and brings refreshing adult beverages. You don’t even have to get up and make them yourself. And yes, I wrote on my cruise — writers don’t get vacations during NaNoWriMo. In addition to working on Deep Water, my edits for Breaker Zone arrived on Monday while we were at Grand Cayman (I decided to pop for a Connect@Sea internet package which would allow me to check my email).
Oh, and I got my cover.
I cannot begin to tell you how much I love this one, especially with the almost sculptural look of the guys in back. Once again, the Evernight graphic design team delivers in spades. Now I just have to finish round one of edits and get them back in…
Time to don the evening gown!
The first round of votes are in, and now it’s time to vote for your favorite Evernight books. I want to send out a huge thank you to EVERYONE who nominated Two to Tango in “Best in Category: Gay” and Assassin in “Best Planet Alpha book” — it’s an incredible honor to be nominated, and you people rock! I’m also thrilled that two anthos with my short stories (Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition and HIS: Manlove Edition) are also in the running for Best Antho.
Now go vote for your favorites!
Mid Week Tease: Deep Water #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. Here’s another unedited scene from Deep Water, where Poseidon has taken Griffin to a local barrier island for an impromptu picnic, and is desperately trying to remember how to seduce a man.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Poseidon, God of the Sea, has spent millennia alone due to a single terrible act — a drunken assault on his agapetos, or fated mate, shared with his consort Amphitrite. His queen has sworn never to forgive him for his actions, and he must live with the knowledge that he drove an innocent girl to a dreadful retribution.
But when one of the Olympic Cove cottages gets a new occupant with an all-too-familiar soul, Poseidon discovers that the Fates have given him a second chance. Now he must try to right the wrongs of the past and win back both his beloved consort and the mate he betrayed.
Assuming, of course, that the Mad Nereid Thetis doesn’t interfere…
Poseidon accepted another beer and settled back into the shade of the loblollies. It had been so long since he’d seduced anyone, man or woman, that he suspected he’d forgotten how to do it. Simply appearing in his divine guise was more likely to send Griffin into convulsions than ardor. Should I send a nice array of weapons? Compliment him on his manliness and strength?
He glanced across at the pale form. No, he’d take that as an insult. Gaia, why does this have to be so difficult?
A vague recollection of something called a women’s magazine flickered through his memory. It had recommended that women talk to men and ask them about their interests in order to tempt them into relationships.
He cleared his throat. “So, er, what are your interests?”
The look Griffin gave him was memorable. “You mean, apart from getting through the next two weeks without collapsing, pissing on someone’s living room floor, or dying?” he said drily.
The words were meant to be humorous, but they scored the god’s heart. “Why do you keep joking about that?” Poseidon said harshly.
Griffin suddenly looked abashed. “Probably because there’s nothing I can do about it, and I’d rather laugh than cry. Actually, I’d rather not talk about it at all, but it’s the bloody elephant in the room, isn’t it?”
Poseidon flushed. He had no right to rebuke Griffin, especially on a subject that he would never personally face. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I just wanted to know more about you.”
“Why?” Griffin seemed genuinely puzzled. “I’m dying, Dunn. That doesn’t make me interesting.”
You have no idea how wrong you are, love. He cleared his throat. “I suspect we have some common interests. Oceanography, for one. And then there’s the Sea Shepherds. I did see your shirt the night of the cookout.”
“Oh, yeah?” The mortal brightened. “Yeah, I think the Shepherds are fantastic. I’ve actually gotten to work with them on a couple of projects. I know some people think they’re confrontational, but you can’t be afraid to kick arse now and then when it’s necessary, you know?”
To Poseidon’s relief that led into a spirited discussion about favorite conservation projects. Griffin admitted that he was especially fond of octopuses and squid, and had Poseidon laughing with a story about an octopus Griffin had nicknamed Phil. The cephalopod had learned how to break out of his locked tank, wandering across a hallway to another tank full of shrimp and helping himself to the occupants. “All I had to do was fit him with some sort of reverse scuba gear, and we could’ve knocked over any jewelry store in the country,” Griffin said.
“I could’ve told you that,” Poseidon said, chuckling. “They’re wonderful creatures, but never turn your back on an octopus or they’ll pick you clean.”
“Too right, mate.” Griffin lifted a bottle in salute, and Poseidon joined him. “To octopuses — the best sneak thieves I’d ever seen.”
A breeze rattled overhead through the limbs of the loblollies, and Poseidon realized with a start how long they’d been on the island. He reached out to the tide and noted its position. “Tide’s going out,” he said. “We’d better get back to the ship if we don’t want to be stranded here overnight.”
“Yeah, not really up for camping.” Groaning, Griffin got into a crouch, then stopped, wobbling slightly. “Bugger. Dunn, a bit of help?” he said through gritted teeth.
Poseidon stepped over. “What’s wrong?”
“Legs went to sleep. Too much time on my arse. Give me a hand up.”
Cautiously, he took the outstretched hands and hauled the mortal to his feet. He expected the sudden barrage of memory now, but it still stunned him with its intensity. Lips and thighs and long hair that smelled like green growing things and huge brown eyes—
With a start, he realized his agapetos’s eyes were still the same. Lit with sunlight, they were the color of whiskey and utterly entrancing. Spellbound, he leaned forward, watching them widen at his approach. Just a kiss. Please, my love, it’s been so long.
“Tide.”
“What?” The spell was broken.
“Tide,” Griffin repeated, eyes still wide. “We have to go, remember?”
“Oh.” Cursing his lack of control, Poseidon stepped back. “Yes, sorry. Let me just get my knapsack.”
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Mid Week Tease: Deep Water #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. We have another scene from my NaNoWriMo novel, Book Three of the Olympic Cove series Deep Water. In this scene Poseidon has received an unexpected summons from the Oracle of the Waters. However, once he finds out that the Fates are expecting him to reconcile with his estranged consort Amphitrite, things get a little…difficult. Yeah, that’s good word for it.
Next week I’ll have something tasty for you, but right now there just hasn’t been a lot of sex. Yet. Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Poseidon, God of the Sea, has spent millennia alone due to a single terrible act — a drunken assault on his agapetos, or fated mate, shared with his consort Amphitrite. His queen has sworn never to forgive him for his actions, and he must live with the knowledge that he drove an innocent girl to a dreadful retribution.
But when one of the Olympic Cove cottages gets a new occupant with an all-too-familiar soul, Poseidon discovers that the Fates have given him a second chance. Now he must try to right the wrongs of the past and win back both his beloved consort and the mate he betrayed.
Assuming, of course, that the Mad Nereid Thetis doesn’t interfere…
The Oracle of the Waters resided in a remote grotto just off the Orkney Islands. Skylla and Sthenios headed unerringly to the hidden entrance, neatly skirting a loaded tanker trundling its liquid cargo from the oil rigs in the North Sea. Poseidon briefly extended his godsense, reading the humans who crewed the tanker. Nothing struck him as out of the ordinary; there were the usual amounts of grudges, violent thoughts, and plans of vengeance, but those existed wherever mortals gathered. He absently bestowed a blessing on them as his chariot landed neatly on the rock-strewn sea floor.
His steeds started cropping seaweed as he stepped out onto the sea floor, holding up his trident. The three-tined head began to glow, illuminating his approach to the craggy rock face that, far above, would become the seaward side of an island. What appeared to be a dark streak in the rocks turned out to be a rough entrance, and he pushed through it.
Inside the narrow cave the footing was rugged and climbed steeply. Soon he emerged from a glassy cave pool, noting the familiar glass globes hung suspended from the dark walls. Each globe contained a liquid that gave off a soft white glow, reflecting on the water’s surface with a ghostly shimmer.
Drying himself with a thought, he headed deeper into the cave, cradling the bottle of wine in the crook of his arm. About thirty feet from the water the cave narrowed abruptly, slabs of rock forming a roughly rectangular doorway. A tall, white-haired man in an old-fashioned linen shirt and homespun breeches appeared in it now, pale blue eyes gleaming.
“Welcome, old friend,” the Oracle said, his voice low but still retaining a faint Irish lilt. “I see you got my message.”
“I did.” Poseidon raised the bottle. “And I bring tribute. From my son’s private wine cellar.”
The Oracle’s eyes brightened. “Bythos? Aye, that lad always had a knack for picking vintages. Come in, then, and be welcome.”
Poseidon followed him into the back part of the cave. The anteroom was where the Oracle met those who traveled to his cave to learn the will of the Fates. From there, he accepted tribute before giving them their pronouncements. Behind the doorway, however, was the Oracle’s private chambers.
The light dimmed a bit, but the sea god could still clearly see the amazing hodgepodge of items collected by his friend over the centuries. Gold and jewels poured out of numerous wooden chests, some of them rotting with age and the ever-present moisture. Salvaged planks and driftwood sat piled in neat stacks, and various pieces of statuary were dotted here and there. In one corner, a peeling but still beautiful figurehead in the shape of a topless mermaid smiled at him in welcome.
The room was comfortably furnished with rare old pieces of carved furniture, rescued from the deep and carefully cleaned for their new owner’s use. Two chairs were arranged now around an elegantly chased brazier that filled the room with welcome warmth. He was waved to one seat, and the Oracle took the chair across from him.
“I’m glad you got here quickly,” the old man said, taking the bottle and deftly pulling out the cork. “I had the feeling that there was some urgency behind the Fates’ words.”
Poseidon accepted a filled golden cup. “Does this have something to do with the events of the past few months?”
The Oracle shrugged. “I’m simply the messenger. Only you can put meaning to the words.”
“Which are?”
Pale eyes focused on him, as if seeing into his soul. Poseidon repressed his discomfort. Once a mortal man named Donald, the Oracle’s association with the Fates have given him a gravitas that would give even Zeus pause.
“The wheel turns, and in its turning presents a gift,” he intoned. “To earn this gift, you must heal old wounds and regain the trust of those you betrayed. If you fail, you will never defeat the Maddened One.”
Poseidon waited until he was sure there was nothing more. “I assume the Maddened One is Thetis.”
The old man sighed, settling back in his chair. “Can you think of another crazed creature who needs to be defeated?” he said. “Do you know what the rest of it means?”
It was Poseidon’s turn to shrug. Healing old wounds could apply to any of the beings he’d quarreled with over the centuries. Gaia knew there were enough of them; he had a difficult, argumentative nature, and had made more than enough enemies in his long life. But he could see the point of having powerful beings on their side in the fight against Thetis. Have Bythos make a list of those who may be useful. The corner of his mouth twitched. Even the ones who currently loathe me.
As for a wheel that presented gifts, that would require some thought. The betrayed trust, however, could only refer to one thing. “It seems the Fates have decided to move into the field of marital counseling,” he muttered, taking a deep gulp of his wine.
“Ah.” Donald nodded over his own cup. “The lovely Lady Amphitrite. I take it you still haven’t reconciled with her.”
“I don’t care to discuss it.
Donald waved it off. “As you wish. But if the Fates say that you’ll need Amphitrite at your side to defeat her sister, then you might want to pick out some nice posies and work on your groveling.” He saluted Poseidon with a golden cup. “Just a suggestion.”
The sea god grunted at that. “Groveling didn’t work. Neither did flowers,” he muttered, taking another sip. And then another. “My head on a pike — that might do the trick.”
Donald made a deep, throaty sound that could have been agreement or censure. “Aye, and there’s some that say the lass deserves just that. But you can’t be lopping your head off now, friend. It needs to stay on your shoulders, where it’ll do the most good against Thetis.”
“Oh, will it? I can’t stop Thetis, you know. I tried.” The admission pained him, and he waved his cup, grimacing. “After her minion poisoned Bythos, I tried to hunt her down. I couldn’t find her. I’m the bloody God of the Sea and she’s a Nereid, part of my demesnes. I should have been able to find her.” He shook his head. “But now she’s…something I’ve never seen before. She’s been removed from my control, somehow. And that disturbs me greatly.”
The Oracle’s eyes narrowed. “How could she have moved beyond your control?”
Poseidon grimaced. “You know very well how. And if that’s the case, then this entire planet is in the gravest of dangers.”
“Have you talked to Gaia about this?”
“I tried. She’s not speaking to me, either.”
“Hm.” Donald fell silent, and Poseidon could hear the sound of dripping water and the ancient stone around them murmuring to itself. He’d always assumed that the position of Oracle must be a lonely one, but dwelling here in the living bedrock, his friend might have far more company than he’d ever assumed. “Well, then you must rely on your own counsel, and fight Thetis as best you can with the allies at hand. And from what the Fates say, that includes Amphitrite. I would suggest you go find her and tell her what I’ve told you. It might help.”
Poseidon drained his cup, placing it on the floor. “You’ve set me a difficult task, my friend. Almost Herculean, if you’ll pardon the phrase.”
The old mortal chuckled. “Better you than me, lord.”
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Nicola Cameron Writes 