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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. 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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Happy NaNoWriMo!
Of course I’m doing NaNoWriMo. And for all you Olympic Cove fans, there is reason to rejoice — not only is Breaker Zone coming out late this month or early in December, but this year’s NaNoWriMo book is Book Three in the series (the working title is Deep Water). I’m currently closing in on 7K and hope to have the entire 100K first draft done by November 30. So you might actually get Poseidon’s story early in 2015. I’m a giver that way, you know.
And because I’m in such a good mood, here’s a completely unedited teaser from Chapter One:
Three gods sat in a tidy cottage kitchen, sharing a bottle of rather fine wine.
This wasn’t an unusual occurrence for the cottage, or even the kitchen. With mid-afternoon sunlight playing on its rack of copper pots and aged wooden cabinets, the room radiated a certain welcoming homeliness that could make even a divine entity feel comfortable. No, the only odd thing was the *identity* of one of the gods currently sitting around the retro kitchen table.
If pressed, Poseidon (Ruler of the Sea, Earth-Shaker, Lord of Horses, et al.) was willing to admit that he felt surprisingly comfortable in his sons’ oh-so-human dwelling. And he definitely appreciated the vintage he was about to receive. He admired the play of sunlight on crystal and liquid as the level of wine rose in his glass, nodding when it had reached an acceptable amount.
The storm god across from him stopped pouring, putting the wine bottle back on the table. Poseidon found the simple act somewhat amusing. After millennia of being served by daimons, the invisible spirits of the air that tended the gods of Olympus, he wasn’t used to corporeal hands doing something as mundane as pouring him a glass of wine.
Especially when those hands belonged to Ian West, first of the new Atlantian Gods. *And, by an incredible concatenation of events that even I find hard to believe, my son-in-law.*
He covered his distraction by taking a sip of wine. The rich, earthy taste of an excellent Bordeaux rolled over his tongue, and he swallowed with genuine pleasure. “From your wine cellar, I take it?”
The other occupant of the table, a lean redhead with grey eyes, nodded. “I thought it would help, considering what we’re here to discuss,” the sea demigod Bythos said.
“Mm. So you have new information about the cause of Thetis’s madness?”
“We do. Nick was able to analyze some of her venom while she had him at her lair. He said it contained some kind of nanotechnology. That’s—”
“I know what nanotechnology is,” Poseidon said crisply. “That … is a surprise.” Thick red brows furrowed as he thought. “But it does explain how she has been able to turn various creatures into monsters.” He glanced briefly at his son, whose face had gone taut at the memory of being poisoned by the Mad Nereid’s venom. It had almost turned Bythos into a deadly monster, but Ian, guided by Gaia, had been able to purge him and save his life. “Do you know how she obtained this nanotechnology?”
Bythos shook his head. “If we still had a sample Nick might be able to study it in more depth, see if it had some sort of logo or marking symbol on it.”
“But Nick never physically had any of the venom,” Ian pointed out. His friend Dr. Nick Gardiner had arrived at the cove a week ago after fleeing a deadly lover, and had become the Bearer of the Rod of Asclepius in the process. “He did his analysis through Pythia and the Rod. As for Thetis’s lair,” Ian raised his hands and twitched both index and middle fingers at the last word, “it’s currently sitting under Barnard Whitfield’s yacht. I doubt there’s anything usable left.” The grim look left his face, replaced by sorrow. “I just wish I’d known—”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Bythos said, covering his mate’s hand with his own. “Thetis played us all cleverly, beloved. And there’s no guarantee you could have saved Claire. From what Nick said, the venom was much farther advanced in her than it was in me.”
Ian sighed. “I still wish I could have tried, dammit.”
Poseidon leaned back in his chair, long fingers toying with the almost full wine glass. Thetis’s latest move in their ongoing battle had been to go beyond the mutated mermaids known as ilkothella and turn more powerful creatures into twisted versions of themselves. Ideally these creatures would still maintain their original intelligence, but follow Thetis faithfully. With that in mind the Nereid had poisoned a sea goddess named Claire with the intention of turning the resulting monster into a leader of her army.
But the brave goddess had defied Thetis, choosing to end her life and return to Gaia rather than become one of the Nereid’s minions. A new coral reef had blossomed instantly on the site of Claire’s sacrifice, forever memorializing her courage. While this was a setback in Thetis’s plans, Poseidon had no delusions that it would dissuade the Nereid from her course of revenge.
Help Colby Do America (And Canada, Too)
As you know (Bob), I have the immense pleasure of knowing artist, blogger, and performer in Cinema Sans Culottes Colby Keller. In addition to meeting him in Baltimore last April, I also contributed to Cameron Stalheim’s merman sculpture that used Colby as the model, and participated in Colby’s poetry contests for National Poetry Month (and even won one!). He is an intelligent, talented, incredibly nice guy with an open mind and heart, and his mindset never ceases to fascinate me.
And yes, he looks nice naked. Well, it’s true.
Anyway, after becoming a casualty of gentrification and giving away almost everything he owned in a massive art project he called Everything But Lenin, Colby has left Baltimore and is about to start off on a grand adventure careening around this great continent of ours meeting his fans, making art, and having sex with hot guys (and recording it all for posterity). He plans to detail this adventure on his blog, but to do this he needs a reliable van, a decent mattress, video equipment, bandwidth, and funds for the occasional hotel room. Because sometimes you just want to sleep in a room with a shower and toilet, you know?
After much encouragement from his friends and fans (i.e. us screaming “DO IT!” at him on Twitter), he’s started an Indiegogo campaign called Big Shoe Adventure 1: Colby Does America…And Canada, Too to help raise funds for this endeavor. If you have a few spare shekels and like the idea of becoming a patron of the sexy arts, I highly encourage you to throw them his way. If you’re broke, spreading the word would also provide the support he needs. I guarantee you, the results of Colby’s adventure will be hot and thought-provoking.
What more can you ask for? Well, there’s something more! If you contribute to Colby’s campaign and send me proof (screenshot of your donation, confirmation email, etc.) I will add you as a character to my eco-thriller paranormal erotic romance series Olympic Cove (book one, Storm Season, is here). The best way I can describe this series is, “A rag-tag group of humans, gods, and mythological creatures must band together and stop an insane goddess from destroying humanity and remaking the world in her own diseased image. Oh, and there’s lot of sexy times, too.”
For you SF fans out there, you will recognize this offer as Tuckerization. Your character will appear in the M/M/M Breaker Zone or M/M/F Deep Water books (extending to books 4-6, depending on the popularity of this offer), and you can choose whether you’re a hero or villain, and what species you want to be (mer, triton, selkie, human, god, ilkothella, kelpie, satyr, nymph, oracle, etc.). Such a deal, people! So go, contribute, and become part of the adventure.
UPDATE: NINE! Nine donors have already signed up to be characters, and the first of them is going to get a very heroic death rescuing Nick and Aidan in Breaker Zone.
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.
Nicola Cameron Writes 