Category Archives: Books
Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day from the now-sweltering clavicle of Texas! Courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino, I’m sharing another teaser from Behind the Iron Cross, my delightfully kinky historical MMF romance set in 1923 Berlin. This teaser takes place after an unexpected meal reveals some truths between Sam and Friedrich.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
In the aftermath of World War I, Berlin has become a hotspot of decadent pleasures, and American millionairess Kat Tracy is determined to enjoy each and every one of them with Sam Hellman, her late brother’s lover and her convenient “fiancé.” But when the two of them meet Friedrich von Bader, a former German Army officer turned reluctant prostitute, their wicked games take on a new meaning.
Paying for the meal, leaving the restaurant, and summoning a taxi was a blur. They stumbled into the Adlon, barely able to stay apart in the elevator. The moment the suite door closed behind them Sam threw his cane to the floor and lunged at Friedrich, pushing him back against the elegant panel door and devouring his lips.
Friedrich didn’t so much yield to Sam’s assault as meet it head-on, tongues battling with each other while they yanked blindly at buttons and buckles. Sam slid a greedy hand into the German’s open trousers, finding hardening flesh and squeezing it. Friedrich moaned under his mouth, thrusting blindly into his grip.
Sam tore his mouth away and panted. “Hands over your head,” he ordered.
Something lit in those blue eyes as Friedrich obeyed, crossing his wrists and splaying his fingers against the paneled wood. For a moment Sam saw the appeal in Kat’s games of dominance and submission.
He locked his free hand around Friedrich’s wrists, holding them tight. “It’s just us now,” he breathed, loosening his grip on Friedrich’s cock and tracing along the veins and ridges. The German made low, hungry sounds, his hips bucking at each teasing caress. “I know what you want from me. I’ll give it all to you, I swear.”
Friedrich sucked in a stuttering breath. “I don’t know what I want.”
Sam kissed him again, catching Friedrich’s lower lip between his teeth and tugging it gently before releasing it with a soft pop. “You do. You will. Trust me.”
Friedrich’s pupils were blown, the blue of the iris a slender ring around pools of black desire. “Please.”
Sam waited but nothing else came. He stepped backward, careful to balance on his false leg as he tugged Friedrich from the door. “Come on,” he whispered. “We’re going to bed.”
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Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from Behind the Iron Cross, my historical MMF romance set in 1923 Berlin. After an unexpected meeting and an afternoon together, Friedrich and Sam are woken up by a tired, irritated Kat with bad news. Luckily Sam knows how to make his fiancee feel better, with Friedrich’s help.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
In the aftermath of World War I, Berlin has become a hotspot of decadent pleasures, and American millionairess Kat Tracy is determined to enjoy each and every one of them with Sam Hellman, her late brother’s lover and her convenient “fiancé.” But when the two of them meet Friedrich von Bader, a former German Army officer turned reluctant prostitute, their wicked games take on a new meaning.
“You two look comfortable.”
Friedrich cracked one eye open. The Fräulein stood at the foot of the bed, staring at Sam and him. Her face was in shadow, making it impossible for him to judge her expression.
Sam stirred next to him, giving her a sleepy grin. “Oh, hi, sweetheart,” he said, yawning and stretching. “Friedrich and I met up in town, and then we came back here after lunch. I guess we fell asleep.”
“So I see.” She sat on the end of the mattress, hunching over a bit as if in pain.
Sam sat up, more alert now. “What’s wrong?”
Those slim shoulders shrugged. “Not the best of days. Schoengraff still won’t talk to us, and we lost Gimmel. Brayburn got to them first.”
“Oh, Kat.” Unconcerned by his nudity, Sam threw back the bedcovers and scooted down to her, pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “We had the entire deal set up. All we needed were signatures on the partnership papers. And I walked in there this afternoon to see all of them smirking at me, ever so pleased with themselves as they gave me the news. Bastards.”
Friedrich felt out of place, watching the two of them cuddle. He started to get out of bed, and Sam glanced back at him. The American man shook his head, looking meaningfully at the pillows. Confused, Friedrich sat back, waiting.
Sam turned back to the Fräulein. “Darling, why don’t you shuck out of all this and let us take care of you?” he suggested. “We can give you a nice, long back rub, then pop you in the tub for a soak while we order dinner.”
Another sigh, heavier this time. “All right.”
To Friedrich’s surprise, she stood and slipped out of her tailored jacket and blouse without a second thought, tossing them carelessly on the floor. Her skirt joined them. Next was a cream silk slip that clung to her body in delicious ways, outlining the small, shapely curves of her breasts and hips. With Sam’s encouragement, this was pulled off and deposited on the floor, leaving her in a brassiere and flimsy silk knickers.
Friedrich’s mouth went dry. He knew the Fräulein was beautiful, knew it in the same way that the Venus di Milo was beautiful. It was a cool, unattainable beauty, something more to worship than hold in his arms. But now, she was a tired, aggravated woman who simply wanted to stretch out after a long, difficult day and be tended to.
And his cock swelled at the thought. He tugged the bedclothes higher, trying to camouflage his sudden desire.
Sam shot him a quick grin as he moved the Fräulein up the bed, encouraging her to stretch out on her stomach. “You relax, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Let us take care of you.”
She mumbled something into her pillowed arms, eyes already closed. Friedrich realized they were shadowed, soft smudges of exhaustion visible now in the cupped curve. A strange tenderness overtook him, making him want to care for her the same way he would have done for Greta.
He knelt on the bedcovers at her side, looking to Sam for guidance. The American man reached over to the bedside table, picking up the bottle of lotion there. He shook out a good palmful of the creamy liquid, then gestured for Friedrich to hold out his own hand and deposited more lotion in it.
Friedrich followed him, rubbing the lotion between his hands to warm it, then bringing it to the Fräulein’s pale skin. The men mirrored each other as they worked up and down her spine, rubbing the taut muscles there. Friedrich skirted the band of her bra, but Sam just shook his head and unhooked it, flipping the freed ends to either side. “Better?”
“Mm.” She wriggled between them, sliding the straps over her arms and slipping out of the garment entirely. Tossing it to the side, she snuggled back into her folded arms. “Now it’s better.”
Friedrich licked dry lips, acutely aware that she was nude to the waist. He could see the curve of her breast pressed against the sheet, plumping out to the side. It would be so easy to lean over, slide his hands underneath her and cup those beautiful mounds, feel her nipples harden against his palms—
His cock twitched, standing out from his groin now. He raised guilty eyes to Sam, who simply shook his head and grinned.
“Keep rubbing,” the American mouthed, slipping off the bed.
Obeying, Friedrich kept stroking the Fräulein’s back, using his thumbs to work into the knotted muscles around her shoulders and neck. He made sure to round his own back, keeping his erection away from her skin. She started purring in pleasure like her namesake, coming up to meet his hands.
“Go a little lower, please. My back hurts from those damned chairs,” she said.
“Ja, Fräulein.” He stroked down her spine, his thumbs dipping into the sweet dimples at the top of her silk-covered ass. It was perfect, two luscious curves that he wanted to touch, caress, hold in his hands while he—
“Lower.”
He stopped at the waistband of her knickers. Did she mean—
She wiggled her ass at him. “Take them off and keep rubbing.”
He couldn’t help smiling. She certainly knew what she wanted.
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Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day for the soggy clavicle of Texas! Courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino, today I’m sharing a teaser from Behind the Iron Cross, my historical MMF romance set in 1923 Berlin. This teaser sets up an important scene for my hero Friedrich von Bader, who has to make a difficult decision about loyalty. The sexy stuff will be back next week, promise!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
In the aftermath of World War I, Berlin has become a hotspot of decadent pleasures, and American millionairess Kat Tracy is determined to enjoy each and every one of them with Sam Hellman, her late brother’s lover and her convenient “fiancé.” But when the two of them meet Friedrich von Bader, a former German Army officer turned reluctant prostitute, their wicked games take on a new meaning.
Just before Friedrich reached the bus stop at Alexanderplatz, he noticed a well-appointed car trailing him on the street. For a moment, he wondered if it was someone trawling for a prostitute, then bristled at the thought of someone trying to pick him up on one of Berlin’s central streets. Christ in heaven, they can’t smell it on me, can they?
The car pulled up alongside him. “Excuse me? Colonel von Bader, isn’t it?” a gravelly voice said.
Friedrich stumbled in shock. He turned to the man leaning out the car window, just stopping the automatic salute. “General Hauptmann?”
General Reinhart Hauptmann had been one of his father’s colleagues and, briefly, his own commanding officer just before the end of the war. He had a reputation for being clever, both on the field and in the political arena that was the upper echelons of the German military. “Ha. Yes, I thought that was you,” Hauptmann said, giving Friedrich an approving smile. “What are you doing wandering around Unter den Linden at this time of night?”
Trying to deal with the fact that a strange man fucked me and I enjoyed it. “I’m heading home,” Friedrich said instead, stepping to the curb. He noticed the other man wore his army uniform, replete with medals pinned along the breast front. “I take it you’re still in the army, sir?”
“For my sins,” Hauptmann said easily. “Apparently they needed an old war horse around to march out in front of the damned French every now and then. I almost didn’t recognize you out of uniform.” He sniffed the air, grimacing a bit. “Rather chilly out, isn’t it? If you’re heading home, my driver would be happy to take you there.”
Friedrich felt a flush of shame at the thought of Hauptmann seeing where he lived now. “I’m sure it’s out of your way, sir. I don’t mind taking the bus—”
“Nonsense, man,” Hauptmann said briskly. “Christ knows I’m in no hurry to get home. Get in, please.”
He opened the door, moving to the far side of the seat. Friedrich forced a smile and climbed into the car, trying not to wince as he sat down. “Thank you, sir,” he muttered.
“Where do you live?”
“Friedrichschain. Tilsiterstrasse 5, across from the St. Georgen cemetery.”
“Ah, I know the area.” Hauptmann leaned forward to give the address to his driver, and the car rolled forward. “For God’s sake, von Bader, sit back,” he added, chuckling. “You’re not on review here, I assure you.”
Friedrich made himself relax. “Thank you, sir. Force of habit.”
“Old habits die hard, eh?” Hauptman said. “I heard through the grapevine that you were discharged. Damned shame, that. You were a fine officer—I was proud to have you in my command.” He sighed, shaking his head. “That blasted treaty was a complete and utter farce. Too many of our best men were cashiered, and now the rest of us are left trying to run an army on a shoestring, with the French peering over our shoulders if we so much as twitch.”
Friedrich tried to ignore the tiny spark of hope in his breast. Perhaps all this meant that Hauptmann had some sort of work for him. “It was an honor to serve the Fatherland, sir,” he said carefully.
“Such as it is, these days,” Hauptmann growled, watching the buildings roll by. “Once, we were an empire, feared and respected by everyone. Now, we’re a republic.” He spat the last word, as if it tasted foul. “Run by men who wouldn’t know what to do with a bayonet if it was stuck in their guts. And meanwhile the British and French look on our poor Fatherland like it’s their own private playground and treat our people like whores. It’s a disgrace.”
“Yes, sir,” Friedrich said, his stomach knotting at the general’s comment. “As you said, a disgrace.”
“Hmmph.” The general waved a weary hand. “Well, what’s done is done. All we can do now is help Germany through these difficult times. Which brings me to you, von Bader. I was at Heaven and Hell last night. I noticed you over on Heaven’s side.” Hauptmann gave him a shrewd look. “I didn’t know you could afford that kind of entertainment.”
Friedrich worked to keep his expression neutral. “I can’t. I’m working as a guide and translator for an American couple,” he lied.
“Ah, of course. And this couple, would they be named Tracy by any chance?”
The second shock of the night made his skin prickle. “You know them?”
The general snorted. “Not personally, but I know who they are. But it’s a happy coincidence that you’re working for them, von Bader. That could turn out to be very useful.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“I’m sure you’re aware that Fräulein Tracy and her fiancé are here on business, ja? She’s representing her uncle’s company, which wants to buy out certain German manufacturing companies. Perhaps you overheard them discussing this at dinner, or during drinks?”
Friedrich’s cheeks flamed. He wasn’t about to tell a former commanding officer what they’d actually been discussing. “Yes, sir,” he muttered.
“Excellent. Needless to say, certain officials in the War Ministry are concerned about losing valuable resources and manufacturing centers to foreign companies. Especially as those resources have a certain military value and would be better used here at home, rebuilding what was lost during the war.” The general’s face was in shadow, but the passing streetlights lit his eyes with streaking glints. “Do you understand my meaning, von Bader?”
Friedrich did. The German military had taken the Treaty of Versailles and the forced reduction of their ranks as a deeply personal insult to their national pride. He could still remember the fierce arguments in the officers’ messes about continuing the fight despite the cease-fire, taking it to the victors and making them work for their so-called “peace.” “The War Ministry wants to rebuild the army?”
“Well, some of them do. Some of them are content to roll onto their backs and expose their bellies.” Hauptman made a disgusted noise. “Luckily those dogs tend to be in the minority. Those of us who are loyal to the Fatherland need to know everything we can about companies like Tracy Electrics. That way, we can make sure that any business arrangements made with German companies will be of benefit to Germany.” A nod towards Friedrich. “Which is where you come in, my boy. One of Tracy Electric’s targets is Schoengraff Metals. You may have heard of them?”
“Of course, sir.” Schoengraff had supplied the German weapons manufacturers with armor-grade steel and iron during the war.
“Unfortunately, Schoengraff suffered a heavy number of losses during the war,” Hauptmann said. “Bombed factories, loss of raw materials, lack of workers, et cetera. Now that the war is over and they have access to their mines in Africa again, they’re trying to rebuild their infrastructure and expand into rare minerals mining. To do this, they need the help of foreign manufacturing companies that can provide financing. One of these companies is Tracy Electrics. Fräulein Tracy has apparently been sent here as the personal representative of William Tracy to oversee negotiations.” He shook his head. “Which is ridiculous, of course. Tracy’s lapdog Arthur Carslyle is running the negotiations, just as he always has. I assume he’s grooming Fräulein Tracy’s fiancé to take over for him.”
Friedrich tried to picture the fun-loving Sam spending hours in a conference room. “I wouldn’t discount Fräulein Tracy so quickly, sir,” he said. “She’s very…unusual.”
Hauptman shrugged. “Unusual or not, she is still just a woman, and a woman’s place is in the home, not in the board room, nicht wahr? Even the Americans aren’t foolish enough to allow such things.” He dismissed the Fräulein with a shake of the head. “Now, the War Ministry wants to know Tracy Electrics’s plans for Schoengraff, and you are ideally placed to obtain this information. We need you to find out as much as you can about what they want to do with the company, if they’re trying to buy it outright or partner with it, and how much money they’re willing to spend.” He leaned over, fixing Friedrich with a gimlet gaze. “Will you assist the Fatherland in this, colonel?”
Friedrich stopped the automatic “yes,” his ingrained instinct to obey a superior officer slamming up against memories of his recent poverty. “If I help you, and they find out, they can fire me at any moment,” he said. “What do I get in return for my assistance?”
Hauptmann stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. “I’m to assume that the gratitude of the War Ministry and your country means nothing to you?”
Friedrich ignored the wintry tone and the even colder disapproval, although he knew it would eat at him later. “I have a sister-in-law and a nephew to support, sir,” he said. “I have to think of them. If I get you the information you need, what do I get in return?”
The general slowly nodded. “Yes, I suppose you have a point. I can’t get you back into the army, but I have connections with Schoengraff. I can get you a manager’s post at one of their refineries near Ingolstadt, and a salary commensurate to the one you received as an active colonel. You should be able to support your family quite handily on that.”
Friedrich ignored the mild contempt in Hauptmann’s voice, buoyed by a sudden, aching wave of hope. The offer was dizzying; a real job, a safe home out of Berlin for Lilli and Rudi, respect and security.
Hauptmann gave him a thin smile. “So, what do you say, colonel?”
He understood the vital need for intelligence during wartime, and how spies could provide information that turned the tide of a battle. But this was no longer wartime, and he felt uncomfortable with the idea of spying on the Fräulein. She had demanded honesty from him, and offered blessed respite in return. Taking business information from her and passing it on to Hauptmann and his cronies at the War Ministry made something in his soul ache with shame.
But there was Rudi and Lilli. They were more important than anything. And in the end, he thought with some bitterness, he was only a hired whore to the Fräulein and Sam. They would leave soon enough, taking their money with them. He was the one who had to stay in Berlin. And a real job outside of the city, where Rudi could grow healthy and turn into the sturdy little boy he was meant to be? How could he pass something like that up?
He ignored the twinging of his conscience. All he was doing was making sure that Schoengraff and Germany got information that would allow them to cut the best deal possible with Tracy Electrics. The Fräulein would still get what she came for, just at a somewhat higher price. Surely there was no dishonor in that.
He took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”
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The high points of RT 2015 to date
So this is what I’ve been doing this week at RT 2015:
- I had a good editor pitch and a spectacular agent pitch (when the agent’s eyes get wider and wider as you go through the pitch, you know you’re on to something). Behind the Iron Cross will be sent off next week with fingers crossed.
- Got to have a handful of meals with the delightful J. Kathleen Cheney and Diana Pharaoh Francis. Diana and I are both into rocks and gems, and I was thisclose to dragging her off to the Rock Barrell for a rummage.
- FINALLY got a chance to chat with Tiffany Reisz, who is as warm, funny, and down to earth in person as she is online and in podcast interviews. And her husband Andrew truly does have spectacular hair.
- Also got to spend some time with the spectacular and award-winning Cecilia Tan, who gave me my start in publishing (thank you, Cecilia!).
- Cover models. All over the con. Charming, flirty, gorgeous cover models. And FRIENDLY. And they smell good. Be still my beating heart.
- Got to meet a variety of movers and shakers in the romance field, which is awesome. I’m coming from the SF/fantasy field, so it’s a whole different world in romance and learning the lay of the land is very useful.
- I’ve been handing out business cards like candy, as well as copies of Storm Season. I’ve also been ASKED for bookmarks. Got to make those and postcards for the next convention I do.
- Speaking of Storm Season, I met the woman who arranged the cover shoot of the model! Apparently his name is Andrew and he’s a Swedish football player. God bless the Swedes.
- I’m getting used to answering to Nicola. True story: a number of years ago I had an account for research purposes (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it) on a small gay porn site that is now sadly defunct. I used the screen name Nicholas Cameron for the forum section because I didn’t want to freak out the other subscribers, and when I started writing erotic romance I decided I liked the name and just feminized the first name to Nicola. For future reference, it’s pronounced the same way as Nicholas, only without the terminal s (NIK-ola, not ni-KOH-la).
Finally
At 2:46 AM this morning I finished the second round of edits on Deep Water, wrote up the synopsis, and sent it off to Evernight. This was after a MAJOR restructuring of Act II that made the book much better but required one hell of a lot of cutting/pasting/tweaking/patching/rewriting/etc that took up a goodish chunk of last week.
See, for me writing is actually the easy part. I turn off my internal editor and just splash words on the page. It’s the editing stage where I actually have to make those words make, you know, sense, that things get hairy and my housekeeping falls by the wayside while I try to figure out how to fit this 98K word puzzle together in a way so that you actually see the story.
But it’s done and off. And yes, this is going to be an MMF story with MM, FF, and MF scenes in it. I never claimed to color inside the lines. Hopefully I’ll hear from Evernight sometime in the next few weeks or so; in the meantime I still have to finish the short story for their Alpha Shifter antho, finish and polish Iron Cross for RT2015 next week (I have an appointment with an editor and an agent and need to have a completed manuscript waiting at home in case they say, “Why, yes, this sounds fantastic, send it to us right now”), then finish the Trickster sequel, then start plotting Olympic Cove Book Four (working title Cross Current).
Sleep? What means this word, sleep?
For those who like flair
My first batch of RT2015 swag has arrived, and I am VERY pleased with these 1.5″ buttons. Next up will be magnets and pens, plus a few t-shirts for interested folk, muwahahahaha…
Mid Week Tease: Deep Water #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Hello, darlings! This will be the last teaser from Book Three of my Olympic Cove series, Deep Water, so I decided to go out on a high note with a scorching three-way between Poseidon, Amphitrite and Griffin. No, don’t thank me — I live to serve. 😀
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Late afternoon found the three of them naked and in bed, languidly kissing and touching. When Poseidon nudged Amphitrite’s thighs apart and slid between them she was more than ready, sighing happily as she worked to take all of him in. He started a slow, deliberate stroke, making minute adjustments each time until he found the angle that made her gasp in pleasure.
Griffin stretched out beside her, kissing and nibbling her neck while he played with Poseidon’s flexing ass. “Christ, I love watching you two,” he said, brown eyes glowing with desire.
“I know,” she gasped, abruptly breathless after a deep thrust. Griffin’s cock pressed against her hip and she slid her hand down between their bodies, just managing to wrap her fingers around him and stroke the tip. “I want you next.”
Poseidon chuckled, pausing in mid-stroke to kiss her chin. “Not if I wear you out first, beloved.”
She grinned up at her husband, flexing her inner muscles and wringing a moan out of him. “That’s the lovely thing about being female,” she said. “I’m multi-orgasmic. You’re going to have to make an effort to wear me out.”
Poseidon gave Griffin one of those amused male looks. “I do believe we’ve been challenged,” he said.
“Challenge accepted,” Griffin said, gleeful.
To Amphitrite’s delight they proceeded to do wonderfully wicked things to every erogenous zone on her body that they could find, and a few new ones that she didn’t even know she had. She had two orgasms before Poseidon finally came with a lovely groan. He switched places with Griffin, who was currently teasing her with a slow, shallow stroke while Poseidon used his mouth to map every inch of her torso.
“Wait, I’ve got an idea.” Griffin pulled out and shifted until he was sitting back on his heels. Sliding his hands under her thighs, he pulled her up into his lap until her head and shoulders were the only parts still resting on the mattress. He slid back inside her, hands splayed over her hipbones as he started the same shallow thrust. In this position, however, it rubbed directly against that lovely spot behind her pubic bone. “How’s that, love?”
Pleasure burned through her, sharp and pure. “Don’t stop.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“Mm, perfect.” Poseidon turned, getting on his knees and kissing his way down her stomach. The soft prickle of his beard added an additional layer of teasing sensation. She felt him kiss the curls on her pubic mound, and then his tongue lapped at the junction where Griffin entered her, finding her clit and going to work on it with ravenous eagerness. She wasn’t sure what turned her on more, that her formerly staid husband was eating her out with such abandon or that he was tasting both Griffin and her while he did it.
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Mid Week Tease: Deep Water #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Hello, darlings! Let’s get over Hump Day with a teaser from Book Three of my Olympic Cove series, Deep Water. After all the sex of the last few weeks, let’s have an action scene where Poseidon and his sons are taking on some mutated whales while Griffin and Amphitrite watch. Of course, things aren’t going to stay that simple.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Griffin could feel his jaw muscles bunch as he watched Poseidon face down and kill the mutated whale. The thought of his mate so near to something that huge terrified him on a primal level.
“Does he have to get that close?” he asked Amphitrite. “Can’t he kill them from a distance?”
“Yes, but that takes more effort on his part, and its messy,” she said, her hands clenched around around the chariot’s reins. “This way, the deaths are quick and clean. He doesn’t want them to suffer.” Her tone made it clear that she’d be willing to live with more suffering if it improved Poseidon’s safety. Griffin agreed wholeheartedly with her.
Grimacing, Amphitrite clucked at the seahorses. “Come on, we have a job to do.”
Under her guidance Sthenios and Skylla pulled the chariot around to the area where the right whale had first appeared. Griffin was able to adjust his visor until he could see turbulence patterns in the water. “Looks like some massive displacement there.”
“Yes. That whale was definitely not alone. So where are the others?” With a flick of the reins she guided the seahorses lower towards the ocean floor. “There should be—”
Something massive slammed into the bottom of the chariot, shoving them upwards. Cursing, Griffin clung to the chariot’s rim while Amphitrite fought to keep control of the vehicle. The seahorses screamed in rage, surging forward and pulling them along. He risked a look back and almost pissed himself when he saw a yawning mouth lined with saw-like teeth snapping closed just inches from the back of the chariot.
Amphitrite yelled something in Ancient Greek to the seahorses, and they lunged forward. Griffin held on, wishing desperately that chariots came equipped with safety belts as Sthenios and Skylla raced away from the second whale. He looked back again and noticed to his relief that they were pulling ahead of the beast.
Then he spotted something behind the bullish, mottled head. Oh, my God. That’s impossible.
There was no choice. He had to get a closer look. “Can you get around to its side?” he yelled to Amphitrite. “I need to look at its flippers.”
The Nereid gave him an “Are you shitting me?” glance but hauled on the reins. Sthenios and Skylla abruptly slewed to the right in a tight turn, flinging Griffin bruisingly hard against the side of the chariot. Holding on like grim death, he stared back at the whale, tracing along the creature’s midline to where its flippers should have been. Fuck. I was right.
“Get us out of here!” he yelled.
“I’m trying to!” Amphitrite yelled back. They had dropped down to mere feet above the ocean floor now, racing along it with the right whale in pursuit. The seahorses arrowed through the dark water, swerving through rocky outcroppings and seaweed stands like rats running through a memorized maze, but the whale stayed with them.
The grim expression on Amphitrite’s face made it clear she knew about their tail. She steered the chariot down even further, angling them towards a jagged outcropping of coral growth. “Hang on!”
Griffin did, gut going cold in horror as they headed straight for the hill-like outcropping. At the last moment the white seahorses plunged through an opening that he hadn’t even seen. It was barely wide enough for them and the chariot followed with a horrible grinding noise, shattered bits of rock dancing in its wake.
Panting, Griffin stared up at the underside of a covered coral lagoon. The lacy structure appeared to be solid from the outside, but allowed dim light and water to flow freely through it.
A loud crack sounded behind them. He turned and saw the right whale’s snout pulling back from a hole it had broken in the coral. “Can it get in here?”
“With enough time, yes,” Amphitrite said, handing him the reins. “Here.”
“What are you doing?”
She plucked her trident from its holder, glaring at the tines. They collapsed inward, forming a single vicious-looking barbed blade. “I’m going to kill it.”
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Well, that was unexpected
It’s funny, the things that writing can dredge out of your subconscious. I was sitting there yesterday afternoon working on character outlines for Behind the Iron Cross and listening to The Best of Sade to block out the sound of Ramón chewing on a scone in the kitchen (I love him dearly but my, that man can wake the dead when he eats).
About Sade: I’ve loved their music since I first heard “Smooth Operator” in 1984, and I’ve always associated the song with an individual I met when I was a young and innocent flower (you have my apologies for my vagueness, but I’ve since learned that this individual is somewhat litigious and I don’t wish to poke the bear). Not only did he pretty much crystallize my physical preferences in men, he also carbonated my hormones so badly that I don’t think I shared more than 20 words with him in my lifetime. I literally couldn’t talk to him; the speech center of my brain would go into vapor lock and I’d just stand there blinking at him even as the rest of my brain was screaming at me to do something, you idiot! I’m quite sure he wondered what the hell was wrong with me, but that’s neither here nor there.
So there I was, working on Kat’s backstory and trying to figure out where and how a nice society girl in the late 1910s would get Dominatrix training (a friendly madam-cum-Dominatrix in Paris, as it turns out), listening with half an ear to Sade croon, “Coast to coast, LA to Chicago, Western male,” and suddenly this individual popped into mind while I was thinking of my baby Domme.
And I had the most astounding epiphany about why I had such a hard time talking to him — my young, innocent flower of a self had no idea that she really, really, REALLY wanted to do delightfully debauched things to this smooth operator. Which was somewhat disconcerting to figure out *mumble mumble* years later, but damn, it gave me the key to Kat’s backstory. I swear, writing is way better than having a therapist!
So, about Deep Water
These are quite possibly the most beautiful words in the English language:
And with that, Draft One of Deep Water is finished. I’m going to let it sit over the weekend while I do useful things like pay bills, do the taxes, and wash our increasingly adhesive kitchen floor. I may even lure Ramón out to a movie, seeing as he’s not gaming on Saturday and I I haven’t seen Kingsmen: The Secret Service yet.
On Monday I go back to Behind the Iron Cross (because I have received death threats from my sister from another mister if don’t put it into her hot and sweaty hands soon). The goal is to have it finished and polished in time for RT 2015, as I have agent and editor interviews scheduled. Sometime late next week I’ll pull Deep Water out and start Draft Two. Beta readers (you know who you are), you can expect it in YOUR hot little hands by April 6 if not earlier, so be warned.
Oh, and I bought myself this little sterling silver, moonstone, and blue topaz bauble as a reward for finishing the book. The octopus-like beaded scrolls are VERY apropos, trust me.
Nicola Cameron Writes 