Temptation of the Incubus Is Here! Read An Excerpt

Here's a first kiss for the Sunday Snog!

I'll say it; I love this book, I am proud of this book and everyone in the world needs to read about sexy, self-centered incubus Amando Renato. He wants to be your friend. Worry not, ladies, he leaves only his male dates a little breathless and confused, which means you're safe with him. Honest. He swears to act polite while he spins his tale about his perfect tail. Yes, Amando makes bad jokes. He reasons he's so stunningly beautiful he needs one defect aside from consuming men's life force.

You'll love him. He's waiting for you!

Order Temptation Here! 

Excerpt:

After I dressed, I hovered in the now deserted hallway, trying to act casual, not needy. This early in the new semester students rarely stayed late; there was no need to abuse their free time. Twenty-five tense minutes passed by in relentless boredom. Somewhere in the offices a clock chimed 6:00PM. Hmm, did the handsome handyman stand me up? Did he gain mental revenge against someone else by using me?

No. I refused to accept the damaged notion. Someone else might display such pettiness but not Mads. My senses told me the truth. I patiently leaned against a wall. I fidgeted. I nodded greetings at two professors who glanced at me in question but merely nodded in return. 
Rita bustled past and halted. "Amando? Is something wrong?"

"I'm waiting for someone who is running late."

She winked. "I hope you're going to enjoy the beautiful evening."

"If he doesn't arrive soon we'll enjoy full night." I pouted in high style.

"Naughty boy. See you next week."

What a cheerful soul. Three kids and a lawyer husband, eh? I wished Rita well.

Silence. 6:30 chimed at me.

Quickly moving footsteps approached me. Mads rounded the far corner and walked toward me, he now dressed in a snug aquamarine T-shirt which truly matched his eyes and well-worn tight jeans that left little to my happy imagination. I sighed in relief. It took considerable will not to drop and worship his thigh muscles.

His capable hands fluttered toward his shoulders in quick apology. "Amando, sorry for arriving late; the kiln turned into quite a stubborn old cranker. At least I managed to cram in lunch." He cocked his head in query. "Do we stroll right to your place? No wooing each other over fancy drinks and dinner in some clever little café I can't afford? I admit since I ate late I'm not hungry."

More subtle sarcasm. Instead of reacting to his arch words I shrugged, smiled and artfully shook my hair. "There's no need for such nonsense. If you wish, woo me as we walk."

Mads's piercing sea-soaked gaze drilled into me. He slowly shook his head and smiled in true confusion. "What is it about you, Mr. Amando Renato? I don't believe I've ever met someone like you before and that confuses me. Hey, since we're alone, may I kiss you right now? I always like to check if a beautiful guy appreciates the fine art of kissing. I am damned fond of the act."

Kissing thrilled me. During the past centuries I leaned numerous special lip tricks designed to conquer a man. I smiled and pursed my lips. "Come here, big boy, and pucker up." As he leaned close, Mads pressed his lips to mine. I opened in slight need, opened to capture his true spirit. Curiosity washed over me. Mint and maturity spiced his tongue. Sweet of him to eat a breath mint before we met. My lips parted further, there, glorious. My sparked allure refused to stand down, the force wiggling up like a curious puppy. No. Careful, don't…

My body convulsed in abject confusion.

Angels on High! I jerked back and slammed into the beige wall. Alarmed gasps ripped from my lips. My watery knees barely held me upright. A startled Mads stepped back, sucked in his breath and dazedly shook his head in slow disbelief. His silky hair haloed in slow-motion.

Fear rattled through my flesh.

I gave.

I GAVE my life energy to a human without even trying.

Why? Heaven Above, why? Who authorized that unhappy event? What the fuck happened to me here?

A chorus of startled male gasps flooded the moment. Mads blinked at me in further confusion until words stammered free. "A-A-Amando, wow… did you experience that weird zap? I-I felt like something… wow. Did we step on a faulty wire? No, that's completely impossible. There's nothing on the floor that would cause such a stupid short. But… shit… I don't understand what happened to us." Of course thinking he consumed my life force floated beyond Mads's comprehension; hey, anyone order a slice of my life force with a side of fries?

Seconds roared past. Poor practical Mads anxiously peered down at the floor as if seeking a dangerous, spark-spitting wire waiting to strike at us again. His thick blonde hair almost swayed in fresh vitality.

My shaking fingers drifted and touched my slack lips. Nothing abnormal happened. Crazy shock invaded every last cell. I gave my life force to Mads!

Why? How? Click tape loop: why, how, why, how…

Mads looked up from frantically examining the floor and shrugged in fresh confusion. He stared at me. His high forehead displayed worried webbing. "I don't know what… my God, Amando, are you sick? Do you need to sit down? You look real shaky and pale." His hands reached toward me.

No. I defensively held up my hands. My back pressed against the wall. Touching me was not a wise option, no, not until I learned what the fuck mondo weirdness happened to me. An instinctive lie tripped free. "Mads, I am fine, it's…you also suffered that strange, erm… surge."

Mads smiled in sincere wonderment. "I sure as hell experienced the surge. Damn, I kissed you and I swear a little zap entered me. Kissing your lips makes me tingly inside. I gotta say if that's what kissing you feels like, let's run to your place right now and resume the fun."

My normal kissing style did not involve passing out life force in gay mad abandon. Glad Mads enjoyed the unique sensation. I enjoyed our sincere kiss until I released life to this unknown human without logical reason. What in Belail's Flaming Chariot happened to me? Why? As my frantic thoughts tripped over each other, I offered Mads a tight smile. My right hand stiffly gestured toward the empty hall. "We can walk there now. It's not far, over at A and 11^th."

Anticipating Rejection

Sometimes I swear anticipating rejection is worse than the actual rejection. I keep checking my email wondering if said novel will receive the ax or, by a bright miracle, be accepted.

Of course I start the downward slide early to avoid the mental ouch, ouch, ouch!

It doesn't help.

Read About Me!

Hey, if you really want to read about me as a writer, I am spinning my story over at Novelspot for the next few days. It's strange, silly stuff. I went crazy.

http://novelspot.net/behind_the_scenes_index

New Cover for Temptation of the Incubus

I'm pretty damned excited about this cover. Reese Dante sent me the initial cover last night. I asked for a few changes and she made magic for me.

Here it is! The novel will be released by Silver publishing on October 22, 2011. Excited!

Garden vs. Code Enforcement

I haven’t enjoyed a good rant lately. That ends tonight.

The day before Hurricane Irene hit, we received a letter from the City of Burlington Zoning Official/Municipal Code Enforcement folks.

Nature of Complaint: Must maintain any lands within the city from filth, brush, brush, [ their repeat] garbage, weeds, obnoxious growth [no period]

Compliance Remedy: Cut high grass/weeds in the rear yard, trim overgrown bushes. Any further grass violation will result in a summons.

This is the third or fourth time our fair city has tried this silliness with us. Yeah, there must be a new code dude in office. Here’s the kicker: we do not have a back lawn. The entire plot is a flower and herb garden. No weeds, no out of control grass. Yes, we have bushes like Rose of Sharon, lilac, trimmed trumpet vine and a stately pyracantha. Dahlias, tansy, yarrow, bee balm, phlox, false sunflowers, rose bushes, zinnias, tomatoes, basil, sage, four kinds of mint, tarragon, sage, lilies, carnations, sweet woodruff, New Jersey tea, legal white loosestrife, native bittersweet, three kinds of ferns, three kinds of ivy, six varieties of hosta, vincas, verbena, and nasturtiums round out the garden. I know what grows there. I planted my green babies.

Best of all, our yard is not visible from the street, which means either a neighbor complained or a code enforcement dude came onto our property. Entering our property is illegal. Code Enforcement is NOT the police.

I know our neighbors did not complain. The one dude is in the Army reserves and sometimes his grass is like three feet high until he can attend to it. The other neighbor doesn’t care.

I confess I let a few Virginia creeper vines get a little happy since they provide the birds berries. In my desire to comply, I cut them back and trimmed away a spindly honeysuckle vine.

The term obnoxious growth slays me. Odiously or disgustingly objectionable: highly offensive. Yeah, right. A blooming Rose of Sharon bush is so offensive. Bad bush. Stop showing those lively pink, white and purple blooms.

I can’t wait to call their office tomorrow.

#1) We don’t have grass, we have a garden

#2) You aren’t allowed on the property.

#3) Care to come back and tour the garden for free?

Wish me luck.

AAD Convention in Philly

Just a little overview from a newbie's POV. 

Despite Stella's worries due to the hotel's last minute nonsense, the con seemed to run smoothly. Then again I wasn't in her boots and glad not to be.

The seminars were more entertaining than enlightening. Not a bad thing, since knowledge fell amongst the laughter.

One small detail; every session needs a moderator, someone to reel in other authors when they begin talking about their own work and not the topic at hand. The authors at this con were so polite they didn't want to reel in certain offenders. And fuck, there was a serial offender. Yeah, there's always one in the crowd.

The con is an interesting concept, since readers mingle with their fave romance authors, even to the point of eating dinner with them. Even Readercon in Boston doesn't allow this level of interaction.

Ethan Day and A.C. Mason made my first booksigning experience a delight. I knew no one would want my sig (pleasantly surprised to have a few takers), so I expected to be bored out of my mind. If not for their support and funny conversation I would have fallen asleep.

When I owned my indie music mag, we attended two major conferences a year. Thing is then I had a staff, writers and plenty of record company drinking buddies ready to cover any tab. When in the business realm, I went to conventions surrounded by staff and drinking buddies.

This was little old me on my own, a much older and hesitant me, trying to promote only me. I failed on the promotion part but at least it was lovely to meet authors I only knew by name or through blog posts.

Cheers to Gus, Eon, Rowan, Pearl, Ariel, Andrew, A.C. and Ethan.

The Eyes Don't Have It

Amazing. It's simply amazing. 

Why do established writers still insist on "eyes" performing odd physical acts?

"His eyes rolled across her face."

EEEyyyuc, no they did not!

"Her eyes fell to the floor"

OUCH!

Really, play this game while reading. Not sure if it's a drinking game since I suspect most people don't drink while reading, but seriously, keep an "eye" out for the hilarious possibilities.

"His eyes met Mark's." Guess they "boinged" out on their stalks. Splat.

I feel sure I have slipped, but ever since this problem was pointed out to me, I aim to eradicate eyes performing unnatural feats. Hell, come on, you gotta get something right in your writing, correct? No roaming eyeballs!