Category Archives: Books
New from Evernight: Planet Alpha #planetalpha
Announcing Evernight Publishing’s exclusive series…
PLANET ALPHA
The year is 2050. Earth is quickly becoming uninhabitable. The seven continents are shrinking as flooding devastates the land masses. Crime and disorder are rampant among the dwindling human population.
There are only two safe havens in the galaxy capable of supporting humanoid life. Xyran is a world of power-hungry demons and Planet Alpha is home to a fearless warrior race.
The males on Planet Alpha need mates. Infertility has plagued their race for decades. The answer lies on Earth where tempting females are waiting to be saved. When their enemies attempt to claim the spoils of a dying world, only the strongest will get their prize.
The first book in this sci-fi ménage series is here:
BONDMATE by J.J. Lore
BONDMATE is now available on Evernight Publishing and most major online book retailers.
BROKEN by Erin M. Leaf
(Coming May 16)
PROPOSITION by Beth D. Carter
(Coming Soon)
Look for more PLANET ALPHA books coming soon to Evernight!
Evernight’s Book Boyfriend Blog Hop! #bookboyfriend
The Book Boyfriend Blog Hop is back and better than ever!
The authors of Evernight have a brand new team of swoon-worthy book boyfriend candidates. A sexy assortment of cowboys, Doms, detectives, millionaires, royalty, vampires, soldiers, and shifters are just a click away.
Get ready to find your next book boyfriend…
Hi there! I’m Nicola Cameron, and welcome to my website! Due to a missed communication on my part Evernight didn’t get the name of my chosen Book Boyfriend in time for the promotional material, so guess what? You get TWO Book Boyfriends for the price of one!
So, let’s talk about the romantic lead of my M/M paranormal erotic romance Trickster and my official Book Boyfriend, Delaney Smith. Tall, handsome, a coyote shifter and genius programmer, and currently CTO at Trickster Technologies, Delaney also dates shifters exclusively — humans are just a little too bland and boring for his tastes. Walking back into the office after vacation, he gets the shock of his life when he finally scents his mate.
Who just happens to be a male contract programmer hired by Trickster while Delaney was on vacation. The fact that Mark Fellowes is a man doesn’t bother Delaney. The fact that Mark is completely and undeniably human … and straight … and has a girlfriend … well, that’s a whole ‘nother story.
So yeah, their relationship starts out on a slightly rocky basis. And to prove it, here’s a teaser:
Delaney ended the call and tossed the phone on his bedside table. He understood the importance of finding out who was trying to hack into Trickster’s servers. But God, this was a shitty time to make him play Sherlock, especially with his mate as the target.
Leaving his bedroom, he headed to the guest room and knocked on the door. “Mark? Can I come in?”
There was no answer. He opened the door and peered inside. Mark’s open bag was on the bed, and the bathroom door was shut. Behind it, he could hear the sound of the shower.
His natural curiosity kicked into gear. Quietly, he slipped into the room and closed the door behind him, ignoring the faint flicker of guilt. Well, nosing around is what coyotes do, he reasoned. And Scott pretty much ordered me to check him out, so I’m just following my Alpha’s orders.
Mark’s bag turned out to hold nothing but a clean set of casual clothes, some underwear, and a dress shirt, suit, and tie. Delaney took a deep breath, savoring the warm, woody scent wafting up from the clothes. A powerfully attractive image of shucking off his clothes and joining his mate in the shower came to him. I could scrub him clean all over, yeah, then kneel down and rim him until he’s begging–
His enhanced hearing picked up a soft moan. He stepped to the bathroom door, listening. Another moan, almost muffled by the sound the falling water, and a familiar slicking sound.
Delaney went hot all over, and his cock sprang back to life. Oh, fuck. He’s jacking off. He’s four feet away and he’s jacking off. Fuck, that’s so not fair.
His hand drifted to the front of his slacks, massaging the thick ridge there as he listened to his mate pleasure himself. When Mark grunted hard and came, Delaney was almost right behind him. Gritting his teeth, he pulled his hand away, willing his heartbeat to slow down as the shower stopped.
The bathroom door opened and Mark stepped out, rubbing a towel over his hair. Another one was wrapped around his narrow hips, and Delaney wanted to take it off with his teeth.
He cleared his throat. Mark yelped and spun, bumping into the dresser next to the bed. The towel around his waist started to slip, and Delaney caught a glimpse of pale, muscled hip before Mark yanked the terrycloth back into place.
Panting, he glared at Delaney. “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?” he yelled. “Do you even know how to knock?”
“I did,” Delaney said, trying to sound innocent. “You didn’t answer so I got worried. Didn’t know you were in the shower until I came in here.” And you were coming in there.
Trickster can be purchased from the following retailers:
Evernight • Amazon • Barnes & Noble • All Romance Ebooks • Bookstrand • Smashwords
Now, what’s up for grabs in his blog hop?
- One lucky hopper will win a $100 Amazon Gift Certificate sponsored by Evernight Publishing.
- Plus, I’ll be giving away a goodie basket of books, chocolate, and custom jewelry from Belaurient Arts.
How to enter? Answer this question in the comments below…
Question: If you could be any kind of shifter, what kind would you be?
Be sure to leave the answer and your email address to be eligible to win a prize. Each comment gives you an entry for the grand prize (one per blog hop stop).
Keep hopping to the next author or blogger. After you’ve met each hero click here to vote for your favorite book boyfriend. You’ll earn an extra grand prize entry!
You’re one step closer to meeting your next Book Boyfriend…
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My original boyfriend choice for the blog hop was the oh-so-sexy Scot Rory MacLellan, the romantic lead of my soon-to-be-published M/M SF erotic romance Two to Tango. Rory is a roguish intergalactic art thief who stumbles across suicidal archaeologist Dmitri Grigoryev during a heist and accidentally kidnaps/rescues him (it’s complicated). When the cops think Dmitri is Rory’s inside man on the heist, they have to go on the run together, and hijinks ensue!
I chose Rory as my Book Boyfriend because while he’s a thief, he also has a strong set of principles (as Dmitri quickly finds out). If you hurt someone Rory cares about, he’ll make damn sure you regret it. He’s also funny, quick-thinking, and empathetic despite a childhood that could best be described as “sterile.” Oh, did I mention he was a dyed-in-the-tartan romantic, too? You’ll understand what I mean when you get to the onboard dinner scene (who brings fine china and crystal into space, anyway? Someone who’s determined to woo a cranky archaeologist, that’s who).
I’m looking at a release date sometime in May, so stay tuned!
Mid Week Tease: The Art of Grant Management #MWTease #MidWeekTease
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 “The Art of Grant Management,” which was just purchased this week by Evernight for their Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition antho, woohoo!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
Peter sent the email, then started pacing his office, hoping that the (admittedly subtle) message would be received correctly.
His hopes were fulfilled as a sharp staccato knock sounded on the door. It opened and Quincy peered around it. “You bellowed?”
For a millisecond, Peter hesitated. The admin looked tired, which was hardly surprising after the day they’d all had. Then again, fortune favors the brave. The worst he’ll say is no. “Come in, please.”
The admin did, closing the door behind him. Peter very deliberately leaned past him and turned the lock.
Quincy glanced over his shoulder at the locked door. “Let me guess — you’ve snapped from the pressure and you’re going to strangle me with the tubing from a Bunsen burner,” he quipped, going for a joking tone and not quite making it. “I should warn you, three different people saw me walk in here. You’ll never get away with it.”
Peter wanted to smile at the other man’s obvious nervousness. I’m right, I know I’m right. “I just wanted to talk to you in private, that’s all.”
“Oh. Talk.” Watching Quincy’s face go from casual to worried, then back to a mock casual that didn’t hide the worry very well, would have been hilarious in any other situation. The admin shoved his hands in his pants pockets, squinting up at Peter. “Uh, yeah, okay. So, uh, what do you want to talk about?”
“This.” Moving deliberately, he closed the distance between them and pulled Quincy’s hands out of his pockets. In one smooth move he raised them over the other man’s head, pinning the admin against the door. “You, John Quincy, are a brat,” he said, allowing a strict sort of fondness into his tone. “You have been a brat since you started here, and I’ve decided to do something about that.”
Quincy tensed, and for one horrible moment Peter thought he’d misjudged the situation. His brain was already frantically putting together a stammered apology when the admin’s eyes went dark and he relaxed into Peter’s grip. “Finally,” he murmured. “Jesus, doc, I was wondering if I’d have to trip and fall ass-up across your lap.”
Peter smothered a relieved sigh. “Yes, well, you can hardly blame me for my confusion. You don’t act very submissive.”
“Have you ever heard of topping from the bottom?”
“Mm.” He leaned in, pushing a knee between Quincy’s thighs. “I have a confession to make.”
#
What’s Peter’s confession? I’m afraid you’ll have to read Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition to find out! Muwahahahaha!
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Whoo, boy
So I finished a short story for an antho call yesterday and got that fired off, and woke up this morning to the delicious realization that all of my pending tasks outside my usual job load are done, dusted, and off my plate. I can actually take today off if I like.
Of course that doesn’t mean I won’t write — I do that every day (besides, I’m working on Breaker Zone now and having a hella lot of fun). But it does mean that the pressure’s off and I can just be leisurely after I get my word count in, maybe go see a movie (Transcendence is now playing, I still need to see The Winter Soldier with Ramón, and I am champing at the bit until Only Lovers Left Alive opens next weekend here), or maybe have myself a marathon with all the Hannibal episodes I have stacked up on the DVR.
Then again, I really do need to clean this place. It’s begging for a good thorough vacuuming. Then again, a clean house is the sign of a blocked writer. Yeah, Hannibal is definitely the better bet.
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.
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.
Friedrich followed the Americans backstage, still boggled by the evening and the spectacle he’d just witnessed. Heaven and Hell was just as glamorous and expensive as he’d heard, and their notorious stage show was just as debauched. How those girls could keep their balance so perfectly and dance while trussed up like that was a mystery.
And of course the Fräulein loved the show; he noticed the high color in her cheeks, and the way she kept licking her lips as she stared at the dancers. He was sure it wasn’t the beautiful naked girls so much as how they were bound that captivated his employer’s attention.
Sam guided them to a narrow hallway, where he indicated that they should wait. He knocked on a door, then disappeared into the room for a minute. When he stuck his head back into the hallway, he was grinning. “He said yes, Kat.”
“Oh, wonderful,” she purred. “Come on, colonel. We have someone to meet.”
Wary, Friedrich followed her into what turned out to be a small, pin-neat dressing room. The Japanese man from the show stood in the middle of the room, arms at his sides. He gave them a short, precise bow. “Konnichiwa,” he said.
“Konnichiwa,” Sam echoed, also repeating the bow. “Kat, von Bader, allow me to present Hajime Ito. Hajime-san, this is my fiancée, Katherine Tracy, and our friend Friedrich von Bader.”
Friedrich found himself giving the man a military bow. The man grunted acknowledgment, then gave the Fräulein a slightly deeper bow, which she returned in kind.
“We’re honored that you would speak with us, Hajime-sama,” she said, surprising Friedrich with the respect in her tone. “My fiancé spoke of your work in the highest of terms. Your artistry with the rope is amazing — I’ve never seen such beautiful patterns.”
“Thank you,” Hajime said in accented but understandable German. “Most people look at the girls, not at my work.”
The Fräulein shook her head. “I respect your work, Hajime-sama. I wish I could become your student and learn from you.”
A small smile split his craggy features. “I have never taught a woman the art of kinbaku. I only use them as models. It would be interesting to teach a woman, I think.”
“I would hope so,” she said lightly. “Speaking of men and women, I was wondering — have you ever bound a man?”
Friedrich tensed at her words, as Hajime shrugged. “Of course. The art began as a way of controlling prisoners during wartime. There are different patterns you can use with a man, different suspensions.” He eyed the ceiling. “A pity we do not have rafters in here. I could show you, if I had a model.”
She clapped her hands at that. “But you do have a model,” she enthused. “The colonel here would be happy to volunteer.” She turned to Friedrich expectantly.
He was surprised to feel hot and cold at the same time. Cold at the thought of being forced into yet another humiliation, but oddly hot at the thought of obeying her politely worded command. “I — Fräulein, please,” he muttered.
That sable gaze caught him. “I believe I gave you an order, colonel.”
Stiffly, he nodded once and stepped forward, holding his arms up. The rope master’s dark brows beetled at him in puzzlement.
“He can’t bind you over your clothes, colonel,” the Fräulein said, amused. “Strip.”
Gritting his teeth, Friedrich obeyed. Anyone with military experience quickly got used to being naked in front of other men, so getting out of his uniform wasn’t bad. Even Sam’s appreciative leer was more flattering than annoying.
The ropes, however — as the rope master began looping the jute rope over and around him, forming diamond patterns along the front of his body, Friedrich couldn’t ignore the gentle but insistent compression as he was tied up like a Christmas present. The strangest thing, however, was how the bonds made him feel. He’d expected a growing sense of panic, as if he was trapped in a jute cage, and didn’t know how the Fraulein would react to his need to escape.
But to his surprise, the ropes made him feel…secure. Even safe, in a bizarre sort of way. He found himself relaxing as the rope master finished binding his torso, slipping ropes between his legs and pulling up the slack along the crease between thigh and hip. The tightening sensation was acutely sensual, and he wondered if the ropes would be used on his cock and balls as well. He felt a combined mixture of disappointment and relief when Hajime-san glanced up at him and nodded briefly in satisfaction, tying off the ropes at one hip.
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Look what arrived in the mail today!
I stepped out to check on a storm in the distance, and found a storm on my own doorstep! The back has a blurb from The TBR Pile and the standard description of the story, and it all looks so great! Even better, I’m having lunch tomorrow with the woman who’s in the dedication so I can give her a print copy of her very own. Hmm — I’ve never autographed an erotic romance before. Better come up with something clever toot sweet.
In other news, Breaker Zone and “The Art of Grant Management” continue apace — I’m hoping to have the short story finished and submitted to the Executive Assistant antho by Monday, and I’m really pleased with the way I’m revamping Breaker Zone. In a way, having to take such a detour on it has been a good thing because it’s made me look at the three leads more closely and adjust their personalities in a more realistic fashion.
Luckily that won’t be necessary for Book Three (tentatively titled Deep Water), since the main characters in that one will be Poseidon (yes, the big man gets his own book), his consort Amphitrite, and someone who is going to turn out to have a very interesting past relationship with both of them. I hope people don’t mind that 1) I’m changing lead characters with each book, although Ian, Aphros, and Bythos will play a major role in each book, and 2) not all of the books will be M/M/M. Only the first two will be M/M/M — Book Three will be M/M/F, Book Four M/M/M/F/F (yeah, that’s gonna be interesting), Book Five M/M/F, and Book Six M/F. It’s just the way the story is working out in my head.
Happy April 1st!
Well, it took me a week but by gum I did it — I got the taxes done and off to the accountant (yes, we use an accountant — between my multiple income streams and Ramón’s job, it makes much more sense for us to let a professional crunch the numbers for us), finished four covers and sent them off to their respective publishers, helped a former web design client move all his stuff to a new system, got the latest podcast episode up and out, and even upgraded my laptop to Mavericks. All of this by today as planned. I rule.
Now, all I have left to do today is add 3K to Breaker Zone, add some more wordage to the short story I’m submitting to Evernight’s Executive Asssistant anthology, do my hour in the gym, and wash clothes so that I’ll have something clean to wear tomorrow, and then I can … um, pretty much go to sleep, I guess. Never mind — I’ll have some free time tomorrow.
Oh, and I need to eat. I keep forgetting to eat. I’m not tooting my own horn here — I’m an idiot about it who gets wrapped up in a project, and doesn’t realize until 12 hours later that I’m practically crippled and my stomach is screaming at me.
On a closing note for all you poets out there who enjoy the bawdier side of the art form, the inimitable Colby Keller and his peripatetic partner Karl Marxxx are hosting a Big Shoe Diaries Poetry Contest (NSFW) to honor April as National Poetry Month. Head on over there to find out all the details and see Colby read Robert Burns’s poem “Nine Inch Will Please a Lady” in an amazingly good (and astoundingly sexy) Scottish accent.
So I’m sitting here crying
I’m of an age where seeing my work in print is still very important to me. I love and am very grateful for e-publishing, don’t get me wrong — it’s a totally awesome publication avenue, and I take advantage of it all the time. That being said, as a writer born in the 1960s there’s still a part of me that wants to see a book in my hot little hands with my name on it in order to feel fully validated. When my first shared novel came out, I wanted to dance around Dallas in utter glee, waving it over my head like a flag, and immediately added it to my book shelf that held various anthologies with my short stories.
So when I published my first standalone novel Storm Season with Evernight last year, I was immensely proud. But there was also a tiny twinge that it would never be tangible, printed words on a page with my writing name on the cover that I could put on my bookshelf. Oh, I knew there was a chance that Evernight might add it to their print collection if it sold well enough, but it was my freshman novel, no one really knew me, and so I put it out of my mind and just concentrated on writing more stories and becoming the best damn writer I could be.
And then, this morning, I opened my email and saw something from Evernight with PRINT in the Subject line. I tell you, I felt like my heart stopped for a moment. Part of me was scared to open it, thinking that it couldn’t be what I thought it was. I was scared to hope, silly as that sounds.
But I opened it. And started crying when I read, “Your book Storm Season is now available in our print store…”
So, yeah, Storm Season is now a print book. It’s currently available directly from Evernight via CreateSpace, but will be available at Amazon in a week and other online booksellers in 6-8 weeks. I’m not saying this so that anyone feels like they have to buy it — I figure anyone who enjoys this particular genre already bought it as an ebook.
But damn. My first novel is now in print. And so, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go flail like a Muppet around the house for the next hour or so.
Cut-ting and pa-sting, cut-ting and pa-sting…
Want to know the easiest way to drive a creative person crazy? Make them do a dull, repetitive activity for hours. They’ll be gibbering in no time. I remember how my ex-boss at the major telecommunications company talked me into coming back for a short-term contract back in 2012 — I got to the office, and was handed PowerPoint docs to fill with cutting and pasting from other docs, the exact same thing that drove me utterly crazy about the job in the first place. Came home, burst into tears, called him that night and told him I couldn’t come back. Luckily he understood.
That being said, two more hours and I have my hotel for my upcoming Baltimore trip all paid for, so I suppose I’ll just shut up, cut and paste. Crap. I still have to do the taxes tonight, too. Hello, darkness, my old friend…
That being said, there is good news on the way. Once I have confirmation, I’ll post it here, promise. And I started work on Breaker Zone again, and frankly I’m glad I took the break I did because hoo boy, I’d say a good 50% of the 27K I already have written has got to go. I’ve completely redone Nick’s and Aidan’s characterization in my head and that’s going to require a different (and better, hopefully) approach to the story. Which is fine, live and learn, yadda yadda, but it always kind hurts to cut wordage. Needs must, however, and while my goal is to have it finished by the end of April, I also know what happens when I announce goals, so — sometime this spring? I’ll get started immediately on Book Three in the series after that.
And yes, I’m working concurrently on Behind the Iron Cross, because I’m insane that way. This is the one I’m sending off to an agent (it seems like all my friends are getting one, so I figure why not), so it’s got to be polished until it shines like the top of the Chrysler Building. And I just outed my age with that comment, didn’t I? Oh, well. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Gramma has to take her Geritol and get back to work.
(On a completely separate tangent, apropos of nothing, I wonder if Charlie Day knows how much slash is being written about Newton and Hermann from Pacific Rim? Burn Gorman is probably used to it by now from Torchwood, but I think this may be a new thing for Mr. Day.)
Mid Week Tease: Breaker Zone #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! Now that Two to Tango has finally been submitted, I’ve gone back to work on Book Two in the Olympic Cove series, Breaker Zone. Here’s the opening scene of the book.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
When Dr. Nick Gardiner goes on the run from a psychotic ex and ends up at Olympic Cove, the last thing he expects to find is his friend Ian living with two redheaded demigods and learning how to be a storm god. Adding to the confusion is a wounded merman named Aidan who washes up in the cove, requiring Nick’s professional help. As it turns out, the handsome mer and his partner Liam have other plans for the ER doctor — to claim him as their agapetos, their destined mate, and fulfill his need to submit.
A chance encounter at a local junk shop reveals that Nick has his own role to play in the battle against the insane Nereid Thetis. Under the reluctant mentorship of Chiron, Nick must master the use of the Rod of Asclepius if he wants to rescue his mates from a ghastly fate and help Ian save the planet.
###
Ian West, God of Storms, stared at the cloudless blue sky over the cove. He hefted his trident, sighting up the shaft as he aimed the dark grey tines upwards, and concentrated.
Nothing happened. He concentrated some more.
Still nothing.
There was a small sigh behind him. “I believe the human phrase is, put your back into it.”
Ian gritted his teeth. “I’m trying,” he said. “It’s not working.”
Another sigh. “Three days ago you were able to defuse a hurricane with no focusing agent or any sort of training. And now you expect me to believe you can’t condense a single small cloud on a bright day?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I expect you to believe.” He jammed the butt of the trident into the sand, turning to glare at Poseidon, God of the Seas. “I don’t know how I defused the hurricane, all right? You want to know how I did it, go ask Gaia.”
“I don’t have to,” Poseidon said calmly. “She already told me. She may have helped you with defeating Thetis, but she said you dismantled the hurricane all by yourself.”
“Then it was instinctive.”
One auburn eyebrow raised at that. “Instinctive? For a former human to control the weather? Another human phrase just came to mind — ‘Pull the other one, it has got bells on.’”
Ian swallowed a few choice curse words. Telling his new father-in-law to go fuck himself wasn’t the most intelligent move in the world, no matter how satisfying it would be. “I know you don’t believe me, but it was instinct,” he said. “I knew how hurricanes worked, knew I had to shut it down, and just did what felt right. I don’t know how else to describe it.” He pointed his free hand at the turquoise cove. “This is something completely different.”
The other god studied him, then finally shrugged. “Perhaps we’re approaching this from the wrong angle. Whereas it would simply be an effort of will for me, it seems to be more of an intellectual process for you, most likely due to your common origins.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“It’s the truth,” Poseidon said, unperturbed. “So. How would a cloud naturally form over water?”
Still annoyed, Ian thought about the meteorological processes he’d researched for his eco-thriller Greenstrike. “Sunlight warms the water and causes it to evaporate, and that creates a layer of warm, moist air,” he said. “Since heat rises, this gets boosted up into the atmosphere. When the layer reaches a certain point, it starts to cool, and some of the water vapor molecules starts clumping together. Get enough of them condensing, and you get a cloud.”
“Simplistic but accurate enough for our purposes,” Poseidon said. “And of course when large amounts of water vapor condenses, you get rain or snow. And if that warm air mass meets a cooler, drier mass, it can precipitate water vapor condensation over a large area, causing widespread cloud formation that, under the right circumstances, can become a storm.”
“Thank you, Bill Nye.”
Poseidon frowned. “Who?”
“Never mind. So what am I trying to do?”
The sea god gave him a long-suffering look. “Focus on the surface of the water. Gather the vapor, forcing it to coalesce as it rises into the air.”
Grimly, Ian turned back to the water. He pointed the titanium trident at the space directly over the waves and narrowed his concentration. One of the more useful things about his new godsight was the ability to zoom in and out on objects. Within moments, he found himself watching shimmering spheres of water vapor separating from the tops of the waves, dancing up into the sky.
Reaching out with the new powers granted to him by the earth goddess Gaia, he tried to gather the vapor droplets together as they drifted upwards. It was somewhat like herding fireflies, but after awhile he managed to shove enough of them together to form a wisp of cloud over the cove. Pulling back his concentration, he discovered he was breathless and dripping with sweat. “Shit. Is it always going to be that hard?”
“No. You’ll get better with practice.” Poseidon’s eyes narrowed as he studied the small drift of water vapor. “Not bad, not bad at all. Now dissolve it.”
“What? Why?”
“You can’t randomly create weather and then just leave it to its own devices. That’s how natural disasters get started.”
Ian wanted to throw the damn trident into the ocean and head back to the cottage for shower. “I’ve made bigger steam clouds than that cooking spaghetti,” he said, waving at the wisp. “What the hell is that going to do?”
“At the moment, nothing,” Poseidon said. “But it could drift further inland, gathering water vapor and increasing in size as it goes. It’s a warm, sunny day — plenty of moisture in the air for it to feed on. Next thing you know, it’s grown into a cloud bank, sucking in more water and expanding even more as it drifts over the land.”
He cupped a hand, bringing it to the one holding his golden trident. “And then it meets a cooler, drier mass of air, and tries to rise to get over it. But when it reaches its expansion point it starts to cool and its load of water vapor condenses, turning into rain. The masses of air also create charged ions, so now you have a thunderstorm. The storm moves even further inland, meeting yet another mass of cooler air.
Both hands now drew parallel circles in the air. “The masses churn, violently shearing over each other. A rotating vortex of air is created this way, and one end slowly falls to earth. When it reaches the ground, it begins to suck up dirt and debris, turning the vortex dark and visible. The new tornado proceeds to rip apart trees, throwing cars around like toys, erasing homes from their foundations. It kills people and animals, demolishes property, and leaves a raw scar of destruction in its wake. All because you couldn’t be bothered to stop it when it was just a small cloud.”
Ian flinched in horror. “Jesus. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I wish I was.” Poseidon leaned on his trident, giving him a grave look. “I’m not teaching you how to control the weather for the fun of it. I’m here because the weather is one of the most important planetary control systems Gaia has, and since you now have control over it you must be taught what you can and cannot do. For all their size, weather patterns are actually quite fragile, and can be changed in monumental ways by relatively small things. I suspect you’ve heard the phrase ‘the butterfly effect?’”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s quite apt. A small waft of vapor here can spawn into a killer tornado a hundred miles away. Which is why I’m now asking you to dissolve that cloud. Please.”
Dry-mouthed, Ian nodded and lifted his trident again, concentrating on driving the vapor particles apart. Slowly, the cloud melted away, leaving nothing but clear air. “Okay?”
“Perfect.” Poseidon eyed him. “Well, I think that’s enough for today. You need a shower, and I’m in the mood for lunch.”
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