Thursday, October 18, 2012


On a daily basis our characters’ unique personalities pull our thoughts toward the concept of perception.  “Fleas know not whether they are upon the body of a giant or upon one of ordinary stature,” wrote the poet Landor.  As a flea in the world of writing, I know that Angelica is giantesque.

Zi was immediately interrupted by Angelica asking, “Where are you going with this?  Is this about my weight?”

 Zi replies, “Weight?  You’ve weight?”  And he smiles. 

We understand that perception is reality and our job as writers is to take that word clay and prepare it for the kiln so when fired it creates images.  Some are thought provoking, others ugly, some funny.  But there are those days when we utterly fail to understand.  Thus, bringing to our humble attention one very simple fact, we like many of our manuscripts are works in progress.

Below is an excerpt from our upcoming book CHRISTMAS EVE...VIL.  We hope you enjoy it.


Resisting the fervent advances of Luke Calico while snowbound isn’t Anya’s only problem, she must also hide from the malicious preacher wishing to harness her power while withstanding the demonic spirit trying to lure her soul.


A familiar bark pierced the belligerent storm.  As Luke severed the distance between them, he could hear Smokey’s whimpers and experienced a sudden fear the dog might be hurt.  Fear departed as the dog bounced out of the white wind like ebony smoke.  He jumped on Luke’s legs, scratching and whining, then running a few feet ahead and coming back to jump up again, adding ferocious barks, demanding Luke’s absolute attention. 
Luke sensed this wasn’t just a game, something was wrong.  “Okay, boy, I understand.  I’m coming.”
Another few steps and Luke spotted a figure propped against a tree.  What appeared to be paw prints decorated a feminine light-colored parka. 
“Oh, buddy, what did you do?” he bemoaned. 
Leaning toward her, worried, he took in her scarf and mittens, thinking them inappropriate.  Insulated gloves would have been better.  Also, a hat rather than just a headband would have kept body heat from escaping.  A further concern manifested believing she wasn’t a local.  She probably didn’t know the weather could change abruptly and drastically this time of year. 
Where in blazes did she come from?  Could Sullivan have company?  Luke’s closest neighbor lived a few miles away and as far as he knew, Reverend Bradford Sullivan was as much of a hermit as Luke, probably more so.  A self-proclaimed, somewhat eccentric online evangelist, he had a regular flock visit his chat room and website for weekly sermons.  Bradford used to be an addict and felt living outside society, far from easy buys and sordid companions was the only way to ensure he stayed clean.  Somewhere along the line he equated being drug-free to a life of mostly isolation.   If his attitude changed, he had good taste, Luke sniggered beneath his breath.
All this blitzed through Luke's head as he knelt beside the still figure and checked for a pulse.  Though strong, she was as pale as the snow which was now nearly obscuring her headband.  Luke swallowed hard stifling concern as he ran fingers over the back of her head.  He didn’t feel any bumps, discerned no cuts were evident.  He hoped the apparent impact with the tree only knocked her out, totally unaware Smokey caused the ordeal. 
He was fully prepared to carry her whether awake or not considering the circumstance, but he would have preferred her to revive so he might ascertain more about her condition.  Unfortunately, several attempts to rouse her failed, except for a few eye flutters. 
He did not know her.  During his ministrations his subconscious absorbed her delicate countenance.  She wasn’t a typical beauty.  Her skin was too translucent and pale providing features that were too doll-like.  Her full well-shaped lips were far too pale.  She appeared as ethereal as a spirit from one of Alex Beland-Bernard’s fantasy realms, mysterious and distant.  With her eyes shut, he couldn’t discern their color, but long, mink-hued lashes insinuated they could be as dark as walnuts.  Yet her light brows and short cap of damp golden blond curls implied they could be as blue as a summer sky.  He’d have to wait until she opened them to see for certain, but that wouldn’t happen if he didn’t get her out of this weather. 
Effortlessly, Luke gathered her up then positioned her over his shoulder for the long arduous trek.  It wasn’t the most romantic way to rescue a damsel in distress, but Luke decided it was the most effective.  She rocked almost lifeless hither and twain as he trudged the rugged terrain.
He made it back to the cabin within eleven minutes, but it was a very long eleven minutes. He muttered appeals for strength.  The storm bludgeoned growing stronger with each passing second, forcing Luke to slow his pace.  Halfway, he shed his coat to cover the lady more fully.  Smokey kept running ahead as if to clear the way of barriers.


We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at (Write - Blog - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.

Angelica Hart and Zi KILLER DOLLS ~ SNAKE DANCE ~

Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane STEEL EMBRACE



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