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Glory Lands by Vastine Bondurant

Dreamspinner Press

Historical M/M

Available at Publisher / Amazon / ARe

A Texas Piney Woods Story

Rural East Texas, 1931. Preacher’s son Emory Joe Logan and a fiddler from Shreveport, Glory Lands, meet and form a tender bond. When they are caught and arrested for homosexual acts by Sheriff Elihu Bishop, the lawman’s sanctimonious bigotry threatens to rip the young men from their families.

Emory Joe’s father, Pastor Charles Logan, is brought to his knees in terror, confusion, and anger. He still regrets not standing up against Bishop when the lawman murdered a youth in cold blood nine years ago.

Now there’s no longer a choice for the preacher to stand up to the lawman. Cold-blooded justice, bigotry-disguised-as-religion, and hatred take on a whole new meaning when they’re standing on his doorstep, ready to take the son he loves.

Excerpt Teaser:

East Texas, 1922

Emory Joe

WEARING A giant smile—just as clear, bright, and happy as that very October morning—Othello “Ted” Jenkins stepped from Jousan’s Mercantile and out onto the crowded sidewalk. Against his shoulder rested a brand-new Winchester rifle, its shiny black barrel pointing to the sky.

A cluster of townsfolk, my Daddy and me included, who’d been milling in front of the store window stepped up to Ted to see his purchase, and he beamed like a proud mother with a new baby while they admired it.

Elihu Bishop moved slowly through the flock of people.

Even if Bishop hadn’t sported a stiff white Stetson or toted two—not one, but two—Colt .45s on his hips, his stride, with its perfect mix of statue-straightness and catlike grace, shouted City Marshal’s Deputy.

Just the sight of Bishop—silk and ice, all six-foot-four of him—scattered folks like kids, who, although they hadn’t done anything wrong, reckoned they’d best make themselves scarce just in case.

Nobody strayed far, though; they just sort of spilled away from Ted like a bunch of leaves flittering across the road on the breath of a soft wind.

Which left Ted alone in his own little spotlight as Bishop sauntered nearer.

Daddy grabbed my wrist, his fingers awful tight. I resented like hell his taking hold of me, right there in front of everyone, as though I was a squirmy toddler.

But right then, riled as I was, I sensed it. Something dark slithered through the crowd and settled tight as a fist of ice in my own chest—fear. Oh, at the time, I was too young to really grasp why this silent, invisible angel of darkness terrified me so. Maybe nothing more than me channeling my father’s tension.

Once he reached Ted’s side. Bishop blew a quiet, admiring whistle. “What you got here, Ted?”

Poor Ted’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his long skinny neck. His dark fingers toyed nervously on the butt of the rifle. “It’s a rifle.”

Bishop shot up an eyebrow and took his good time pulling a cigarette from his lips.

Ted gulped and amended his reply. “It’s a rifle, Deputy Bishop.”

“Isn’t that a beaut, Ted, isn’t that just a beaut.” A sneer pretending to be an interested smile turned up the corners of Bishop’s thin lips. He squinted and tossed the cigarette onto the pavement. Tucking his chin, he stretched out a khaki-sleeved arm to now-trembling Ted. “Mind if I take a look, boy?”

An acquiescent grin tried to reach Ted’s mouth, and he nodded, the rifle wobbling in his grip when he handed the firearm to the lawman. “Sure, sir. Sure.”

“Now would you just look at this nice piece of weaponry.” Nodding, his lips pursed, Bishop studied the Winchester. It didn’t shake in his hands as it had in Ted’s. “What’re you aiming to do with this fine thing, boy?” The deputy’s steely blue gaze shot to Ted from under the shade of the Stetson’s brim.

“I figured to do some huntin’, sir.” Ted shifted from one scuffed-booted foot to the other, and his glance danced around the crowd.

I recognized that familiar frenzy in his brown eyes. A desperate search for a place to run. I figured I’d donned that same expression many times in the classroom when I was about to be on the receiving end of the teacher’s yardstick.

“I see.” Bishop’s severe gaze narrowed. “Hunting what, boy?”

Ted shrugged. “Squirrels and rabbits, I reckon, sir.”

While being pinned under that stony scrutiny, Ted’s body went rigid, except for his shaking hands.

“Squirrels and rabbits,” Bishop murmured.

“Yes, sir.”

There went Daddy’s fingers again, squeezing me even harder.

Through the years, even when I’d grown old enough to recognize the face of hatred and its always-hovering dark cold cloud, I still wondered how I didn’t sense what was going to happen next.

With no warning, just offering a gentle “I see,” Bishop grasped the barrel of the Winchester and, with one fast-as-lightning movement, brought the butt of the piece down on the back of Ted’s neck.

The impact split the air and echoed off the buildings like a clap of thunder.

I cringed, the sickening thud jarring my innards.

Ted crumpled to the pavement, boneless as an empty potato sack.

With a deep sigh and a slow stare around the circle of spectators, Bishop stood for a moment, the rifle in his big fist

Then, like throwing a bit of stick into the garbage, he tossed the gun onto Ted’s still frame.

The Winchester bounced off Ted and clattered to the sidewalk.

The deputy shot one last glance at the stunned audience, sauntered to the wrought-iron bench at the end of the sidewalk, and commenced lighting a cigarette.

Daddy shuddered to life. Murmuring “Jesus, sweet Jesus” over and over under his breath, he started down the sidewalk, dragging me toward our truck.

Over my shoulder, I kept my gaze on Bishop while being hauled away from the scene by Daddy. I’d been mesmerized, terrifyingly so, by the image of the deputy lounging on that bench as though nothing had happened.

At one point, Bishop’s eyes met mine. He must have enjoyed the terror in my own eyes because, after a long drag on the cigarette, he exhaled and winked at me through the spiral of smoke.

 What are readers saying about Glory Lands?

"...But every so often a story comes along and absolutely annihilates me. Glory Lands is that story..." ~ Astrid (Amazon)

"...This story is beautifully written with charm and a very classy writing style..." ~ Cathy (Amazon)

About the Author:

I’m Texas born and raised, an old fashioned, bling-loving girly girl. I love to read and write stories of men and women and the sizzling chemistry that draws them together. Passion. My heart is helplessly bound to romance of a time long gone- gritty, sexy stories of men in fedoras and overcoats. Old Spice Aftershave, Lucky Strike cigarettes, fancy cuff links, hair pomade, mobsters. Clandestine whispers on Bakelite telephones from the shadows of cheesy restaurant phone booths. Stories of a time when sex was all the more sexy because it wasn’t plastered on every billboard—no naked Joes and dames in every ad in every magazine. Lovemaking—hot, sweet-and-naughty, a secret between lovers. My make believe world is sex and danger, hotter than Hades but wrapped up in a deceptive package—gals with soft skin, pretty lace slips, seamed stockings, satin peignoirs, powder puffs and Chanel No. 5. And the tough guys in dress shirts and suspenders who lust to get their hands on the garters they know tease just beneath those kick pleats. I’m a goner for the dynamics of testosterone meets sugar and spice.

Find Vastine online at:

Blog

Facebook

Pintrest

Twitter

Goodreads Author Page

Glory Lands Goodreads Page

Purly Gates Goodreads Page

Amazon Author Page

 
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Not in the Stars Blog Tour Stop

Talking with the authors from Not in the Stars Anthology....

Is there a genre you’d like to write?  Is there one you’ll probably stay away from?  Why?

A genre I would like to write? As in I don’t write in it now? I’d like to have the time for more historicals. Even if you’re a fan/student of history, fiction set in the past takes scads of research – material culture, sometimes speech patterns, street layouts that might have changed, so many little things and I don’t have the time for that right now. As for where I would stay away genre-wise? I’ll most likely never write a true BDSM story for publication. Just not something that appeals to me as a writer.

Please tell us about your newest release and where the idea came from.

Not In The Stars comes from a list of anthology options we compiled for ourselves. We had readers send us ideas and vote on them. We tossed ideas around and kept the ones enough of us could buy into. We snuck some in when no one else was looking…What? Don’t look at me like that.

This anthology, as a Science Fiction anthology, I think came about partly because I whined so much. I mean, um, my co-authors felt sorry for me. No! That’s not what I meant. But there were some topics that were out of my normal comfort zone, so I think they figured I got to have a turn back with my normal stuff. So we have four Science Fiction stories in four wildly different writing styles.

Where did the individual ideas come from? Freddy wanted to do something steam-punkish. Mathilde had this fabulous idea about actual aliens at a SF convention. Toni wanted freaky alien sex. And I wanted Shax to have get a little creative.

What kind of research did you do for this book?

I tend to research some bizarre things. For “Shax’s War”, (my story in this antho and the third Brimstone story) I found myself having to research hedgehogs, molecular gastronomy, and certain eras of men’s fashion for inspiration. Then the Mischief Corner crew helped me construct (mentally) the typical trauma ball court. Everyone had a hand in that scene.

If this book was made into a movie, who do you see playing the main characters?

William Moseley would actually make a good Shax. He has the ability to look innocent and stalwart, but then that grin breaks out… For Ness, we’d need someone tall, exotic and sincere looking. Sadly, I can’t think of anyone who fits.

How do you come up with characters names?

Most character names for me have something to do with the character’s family, ethnicity, point of origin. Then they have to be names I like, that fit the character’s appearance and personality. For my Fae novels, for instance, many of the names come right out of old Celtic stories. For the names of demons and angels, I sifted through hundreds of references in online demonology listings and lists of angel names for appropriate ones. Shax was actually listed as the demon prince of thieves on one of these sites, and the idea appealed to me. Rather, it sank its teeth in and wouldn’t let the hell go.

What do you do in your free time?

Sadly, free time doesn’t really exist right now. I work an evil day job. I have family. In the evenings and on weekends, I do author stuff. This doesn’t leave much in the way of “free time.” I suppose I could always give up sleep.

How much of your own personality bleeds into your characters?

I’d say it’s unavoidable for personality bits and pieces to break off and land smack in the middle of the character soup. The writer is, after all, writing inside a closed system (the writer’s brain) and some cross- contamination is bound to occur. You see one of my characters having a smartass moment? Yeah, that’s me. You see one breaking down in sheer frustration? Yeah. You see one being all brave and self-sacrificing, heading out against impossible odds without a thought to… no, you would be wrong. That’s not me at all.

Do you have a list of movies like me that you are itching to see or have seen? What about ones coming up? Any that draw your eye to it?

Here we are back to that time issues. There are always tons of movies I want to see. I still have been able to see Elysium, for crying out loud. Or The Dark World. Or Frozen. *cries*

You are hosting a dinner party. If given the chance to invite characters from other series, who would you invite?

Oh, my goodness – I get to have my book boyfriends over? Roan and Dylan from the Infected series would have to come. I love those books to pieces. Paris could come as well, though I think that might be awkward. Tadashi and Berg (new or old incarnation) should be there, though we’d have to have someone keep a close eye on Kou the squirrel. I know Internment’s not a series, but I’d still want them there. Jonty and Orlando from the Cambridge Fellows mysteries. Adrien English – yes, I’d like a chat with him. Whyborne and Griffin, most definitely, from Jordan Hawke’s Widdershins series. Might have to keep some of these folks in separate rooms, though. Don’t think I’d like to see Roan and Percy Whyborne get into a serious argument.

If you only had twenty dollars in your pocket, what would you buy?

Books. Duh.

Of all your heroes that you’ve written, is there one that you love above all?

I think Finn will always be the closest to my heart. I love all my characters, male, female, human and otherwise, but Finn’s the one who walked out of the dark when I needed him all those years ago, who whispered in my ear and said, “You can do this. If you can believe in me, I can believe in you.”

What’s the most interesting way you got around a plot problem?

I don’t think there’s an “interesting” way. If there’s truly a plot problem, it needs to be fixed in a methodical way. Back it up. Take the plot vehicle back to where you first got lost. Start again.

Really, the way to avoid plot problems is to watch where you’re going in the first place. If writers didn’t just hare down the plot street without looking, we wouldn’t have all these accidents.

If you owned a bookstore, what book would you make sure was in stock?

Yes. All of them. Owning a bookstore would be a little slice of heaven (if you’re independently wealthy and don’t have to worry about pesky things like rent and utilities and such.) I’d want to keep everything in stock, probably specialize in fiction. The one book I’d always make sure was in stock? A Wizard of Earthsea. Should be mandatory reading.

What is next for you? Anything you want to mention?

Mischief Corner has tons of things in the pipeline – watch the site for more re-releases and new releases coming this summer.

For me, I would like to mention that MCB will be handling the re-release of my M/M SF fairytale, Vassily the Beautiful, later this summer. 

Not in the Stars Anthology

with stories by Angel Martinez, Freddy Mackay, Toni Griffin, Mathilde Watson

Since the dawn of human expression, man has gazed up at the heavens in wonder, inspired by the wheeling of the stars to explain his surroundings. While our perception of those surroundings have changed, from thinking of the Earth as a flat, stable plane to realizing we’re falling through space in a tiny atmospheric bubble, our wonder remains constant.

Space stations, alien races, far-flung planets—join the Mischief Corner authors as they explore the possibilities the stars might offer. The catch? Returning to mundane old Earth might be harder than you think. 

Shax’s War: Brimstone 3 Angel Martinez M/M Science Fiction Humor Teaser Excerpt Chapter One Shax yelped as the trauma ball hummed against his palm, the surface shifting from swirling orange toward yellow. Before it could deliver its nastiest shock, he flung the thing at Verin’s head. “Bastard!” Sparks flew as Verin swung his horns and batted the ball away. He aimed right for Ness, who sidestepped and caught the ball as it powered back down to blue. Wings spread for balance, tip of his tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth, Ness spun and ran the three steps up the ramp at the court’s far end, aiming for the hovering sphere goal. At the last second, the goal moved left and Ness’s shot caught the magnetized lip, which hurled the trauma ball back at him at some ridiculous, unsafe speed. Shax winced at the sharp crack when hard ball met angel head. “Ow.” Ness flopped down at the top of the ramp, rubbing at his temple. “Someone gonna explain to me again how this is fun?” Corny called from where he balanced on the swinging planks that made up mid-court. He’d been stuck on the water hazard for several plays, his muscular body and high center of gravity an indisputable disadvantage since the wrong move would send him into the water and cost him a five minute penalty. Their cowboy had figured out the hard way in the first quarter that the pool itself enforced the penalty and didn’t let the penalized player out a second before. Good thing he can tread water. The ball was now happily rolling along the elevated sidewall ramps and Shax prepared to jump for the rings that would put him at the right height to catch it when it rolled free. Had they been playing teams…but no one could agree on a fair way to pair the four of them up, so solo it was. Shax cocked his head, listening to the rumble of the ball as it trundled downward. Ness was still on the ramp. Corny was stuck. Verin was navigating the sponge quadrant where his claws were sticking. Perfect. He leapt, caught a ring in either hand, got a good swing going, and let go with his right hand just in time for the ball to drop from the chute. With a whoop, he swung free and dropped with the ball clutched to his chest, only to be hit from behind with the force of several megatons. Wind knocked out of him, he could only watch as Verin snatched up the ball. “Attempted murder isn’t supposed to be part of the game,” he wheezed as Verin took his shot. It seemed to be too far right, but the sphere turned and the ball shot inside. “You’re all right, you baby,” Verin growled. “Get up before you really get fucked up.” Shax heaved himself to his feet, staggering a few steps before the floor decided he’d been in one place too long and started bucking. Ness had moved now, too. “Shax? Sure you’re all right, love?” “I’m good. There are two of you right now. Don’t mind. Two of you are nice.” All four of them managed to reach the sand quadrant closest to the near goal where they crouched in anticipation, waiting for the sphere to spit out the ball. Shax got Verin’s elbow in his ribs and a playful shove from Corny as they jockeyed for position but they might as well have stood still. The sphere rumbled and disgorged the trauma ball with a hacking cough, sending it high and wide. Ness, with his superior height and reach, snagged it easily, holding it up to keep it out of reach. Any second, Verin and Corny would charge him and then Shax wouldn’t have a chance. An evil thought percolated in his mind and he sidled up close to Ness, blew a breath across his bare nipple, and reached down to cup Ness’s balls through the tight game shorts. A strangled whimper caught in Ness’s throat. His jaw slack, eyes saucer-wide, he fumbled the ball and dropped it. Shax caught it before it hit the sand, snatched a quick kiss, and bounded away toward the far goal. He slammed the trauma ball into the sphere just as it hummed over to yellow again. “Ha! That’s three for me! Game!”

Available at:

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-notinthestars-1466490-166.html?referrer5314fed11fb4f

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00JHITVHE?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creativeASIN=B00JHITVHE&linkCode=xm2&tag=pridepromo-20http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/not-in-the-stars-toni-griffin/1119119990?ean=2940149457076

https://mischiefcornerbooks.weebly.com/store/c30/Not_in_the_Stars_Series.html

Tour Stops.... 

 About Mischief Corner Books

Mischief Corner Books is an organization of superheroes... no, it's a platinum-album techno-fusion group...no, hold on a sec here...

Ah, yes. Mischief Corner is a diverse group of authors who met on a mountain in Tennessee and decided since we probably were too easily distracted to rule the world that we'd settle for causing a bit of mayhem instead.

In addition to making mayhem, we are releasing books as a consortium. The books cover a diverse range of genres and topics... we live to break molds. Our books are available through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, ARe and other outlets.


Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amartinez2
Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/MischiefCornerBooks
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MischiefCorner

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Win Vastine Bondurant's New book, Glory Lands today!

Win an e-copy of Glory Lands by Vastine Bondurant from Mrs. Mrs Condit & Friends Read Books Reviews today!

Plus check out the great review for this wonderful historical M/M story that will steal your heart...

FIVE Sweet Peas & a Recommended Read from Mrs. Condit's Reviews

"....Vastine Bondurant is on my must read list now and I look forward to anything she cares to write..."
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Book Spotlight~ To Know Your Wild Heart by Samantha Singer

To Know Your Wild Heart by Samantha Singer
M/M Paranormal
JMS Books
Available at Publisher

Orphaned in the forest as an infant, Kai grows up the only human among a pack of werewolves. When the pack learns that Marcellus, a renegade Skinwalker with an insatiable thirst for carnage and an unreasoning hatred for humans, has returned to finish what he started with the murder of Kai’s parents, for both Kai’s safety and that of the pack it is decided that Adair, the aloof and amiable werecat, will lead Kai to the safety of the human settlement nearby. With danger closing in and the attraction between them growing can either survive with their lives and hearts intact?

Teaser Excerpt:

Kai was more confused than ever. “What? Why? I don’t even know anyone named Marcellus.”

“It doesn’t matter if you know him or not. You’re human. That’s enough. I’m sorry you got the wrong idea about us. If you calm down and think rationally, you’ll realize that the best place for you in the human village. They can protect you. You’ll be happy.”

Kai shook his head and looked up at Adair. How was he supposed to calm down? His entire life was crumbling around him. “I’ll die there.” It was true. Kai wouldn’t know anyone. He had no idea what it meant to be human. In the pack, in the forest, he was free. The village would be a prison.

“If you stay in the forest you will die. The pack won’t protect you. Even I can’t protect you. In all probability Marcellus is the one responsible for the deaths of your birth parents.”

How dare Adair bring his natural parents into this? He knew how much Kai thought about them, how much he missed them sometimes. Just when Kai thought Adair couldn’t sink any lower.

“I hate you!” Kai screamed in helpless anger and pain. He saw Adair blanch before he turned and took off running as fast as he could, tears blurring his vision and hurt tearing his heart to shreds.

* * * *

Adair stood there stunned as Kai ran away. He had never seen Kai look the way he had. Heartbroken, devastated. The fact that he had put that expression on Kai’s face left him gasping. He wanted to go after him, knew that he should, but he couldn’t seem to get his feet to move.

I hate you! The words echoed in his ears, slicing into him like a blade. He just wanted to keep Kai safe from Marcellus. He should have also kept Kai safe from himself as well.

He should have realized what Kai thought was happening between them when he used the words ‘mate me’. Kai had been raised with pack values and would see their coupling as a sacred rite, not as an act of mutual pleasure as Adair did. He was a damn fool. He knew better, yet gave in to his baser instincts and desires to have Kai just one time. He let his judgment be clouded and now all hell had broken loose.

“Kai!” He called heading off after the human. It felt awkward to walk on two legs. “Kai! Come back here!”

Worry clawed at him. Kai was alone. Marcellus was somewhere in the forest. Marcellus who hated all humans and was hunting Kai. Adair had to find him. He stopped and sniffed the air, trying to pick up Kai’s unique human scent, but Kai had just bathed and his scent wasn’t discernible. Kai could have run in any direction. With no hint of scent, Adair had no clue which way to go. Any way could be the wrong way taking him farther away from Kai and bringing Kai closer to Marcellus.

About the Author

Sam Singer first discovered her love of writing in grade school, and it’s an affair that has continued to grow and flourish.  She dabbled in traditional romance before finding her one true love:  male/male erotica and romance.

 When not writing about beautiful men getting hot and sweaty, she works part time as a librarian and enjoys baseball, feeding her caffeine addiction, and watching classic movies.  She lives in a small town in the Midwest and is owned by her fickle Muse and insane cat, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

You can contact here her via her blog: http://sam_singer.livejournal.com or e-mail her at samsinger67@gmail.com.

Talking with author Evelyn Shepherd

Thanks for having me, Dawn. I'm very excited to be here tonight. I admit that I took a while to consider what I wanted to discuss on this blog, as there are many topics I could touch upon, such as writing advice regarding style or plot development. However, as of late, I have been thinking a lot about fanfiction and I've decided that this would be a great place to talk about it.

            Within the last few years, fanfiction has become more of a mainstream topic. We are seeing it more and more in the media, especially after the success of fanfiction-turned-novel Fifty Shades of Gray. On the Internet, outlets such as AO3 (Archive of Our Own), Fanfiction.net, and Tumblr have provided spaces for fans to enjoy and share their fandoms with others.

            But not everyone agrees that fanfiction is “real writing” or that it should be allowed. Prominent authors such as Ann Rice, Laurel K. Hamilton, and George R.R. Martin have all spoken out against fanfiction and taken strides to protect their stories. In most cases, authors who are against fanfiction view it as a form of plagiarism and an invasion of their characters/worlds.

However, authors such Neil Gaiman and J.K. Rowling have endorsed and encouraged fans to express themselves through fan stories. I personally, am in favor of fanfiction. As a former fanfiction author myself, I see it as a community that nourishes new and budding authors.

Some consider fanfiction to not be "real writing", though this is far from the truth. As someone who continues to read fanfiction, I can say that I've come across some extremely talented authors.

"But if they're so talented, why write fanfiction and not something real, like short stories and novels?" This is something that we all have thought before, but we must realize that not everyone is ready to take that step, or that they may not want to. Fanfiction provides writers a chance to exercise their writing skills and help shape them in an environment that they already know and with characters whom they are intimately familiar.

I grew this way myself: using the characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Final Fantasy VII, and Harry Potter to create new stories of my own. That eventually inspired me to make my own characters and stories!

Fanfiction is a growing process for many people, which is why I am a supporter of it.

I’m not saying every story is amazing. Like all writing, there will be bad and good. Some of my first stories (fanfiction and original) make me cringe when I think about them. But they gave me the tools to help build my craft.

Many of the authors, some of whom I know personally, will spend countless hours researching, plotting, and writing stories—for free—and sharing them with the world, but because their stories are rooted in fan culture, they are looked down upon by society. These authors work just as hard as published authors in creating amazing tales for fans to enjoy, and their passion lies in the same place as every published author: writing.

Fanfiction is a regular part of media. It comes in many forms, sometimes ones we don’t even realize. The BBC Sherlock and Elementary can be characterized as a ‘modern day AU (alternative universe)’. Fifty Shades of Gray began as a Twilight fanfic that was edited into an original story. The Great and Powerful Oz is an origin story for the Wizard of Oz written by L. Frank Baum. All of these are based off of pre-existing worlds and characters. They’re works of fanfiction in their own way, though the media won’t admit that (well maybe Fifty Shades…).

I’m not here to step up on my soap box and instill a belief that fanfiction is okay. Ann Rice isn't wrong in disagreeing with it. Those are her views and her characters, so she has every right to feel that way. We are all entitled to our views. The point I’m striving to make is that as a literate community (both writing and reading), we shouldn't turn our nose up at fanfiction authors. They are writers, whether they dream of publishing or not, and as fellow writers we should send our support to them and encourage them to continue to write.

And to answer questions that may pop up: yes I support fanfiction and would not be upset if someone wrote it about my stories. I also support fan art.

            What are everyone’s views on fanfiction (or even fan art)? Do you support fanfiction or are you against it?

White Bone, Red Sky by Evelyn Shepherd

A Theo Bourne Novel

Loose Id

Paranormal, Vampires, M/M

Available at Publisher / Amazon / Omnilit

Theo and Carlos are called out of vacation when a madman called the Bogeyman begins to butcher small children. It's a race against more than the clock as a third victim is abducted. The FBI has stepped in to put an end to the terror that has seized Columbus, but with very few clues to go on, Theo and Carlos are left scrambling for answers. Rhett Bishop just might be the help they've been looking for, but it comes with a price -one Theo isn't sure is worth paying.

The deeper they delve into the bloody massacre rocking Columbus, the more things spin out of control. Theo struggles with his own crippling fears and tries to build the courage to ask Carlos one of the most important questions of his life. But things can never go easy for the two detectives, and as they sort through their case, Carlos begins a battle of his own. A contender has stepped up to take Carlos's place as Alpha of the local werecoyote pack. If Carlos isn't careful, he may lose more than his position as pack leader.

EXCERPT

I stepped off the airplane and followed the flow of traffic out of the terminal. The world felt unsteady after being twenty thousand feet in the air, as if the ground were as soft as a cloud and I’d sink straight
through. I looked around. Port Columbus International Airport was a hive of rushing civilians. My grip tightened around my carry-on as a man in a cheap-looking suit slammed into my shoulder. Someone’s hand caught my arm and steadied me. I looked back and flashed Carlos a grateful smile as he steered us out of the stream of bodies.

“You got everything, corazón?”

“Yeah. Let’s get our bags and head home. I’m exhausted.” A yawn escaped me, almost as if to emphasis the fact. We were both jet-lagged, in need of a shower, and stiff in every way but the good one. All I wanted was some food and our bed.

For the last two weeks we had taken a much needed—and painfully earned—vacation to Madrid, Spain. It was a long-overdue celebration of our anniversary. I still had trouble believing that in four months, we’d be celebrating two years together. It was a feat I had never thought possible.

“Come on, baggage is this way.” Carlos dropped a quick kiss on my lips and started moving toward the luggage carousels.

I quickly caught up with him, letting my shoulder bump his as I passed. Warmth unfurled in my stomach and pushed away my fatigue when I looked over my shoulder. Carlos had loosely braided his black hair from his face; the pleat draped down his back to just past his shoulder blades. He had become disheveled during the flight, his black tank top wrinkled and his poured-on jeans riding low on his narrow hips.

We had come a long way since we first met. It had been a rocky beginning, filled with denial, then followed by hesitation. That rocky beginning, which had become stronger and more cemented during the past two years, had laid our foundation. Somehow, between almost dying and all our fears, we had found happiness. Now I was terrified to think of a life without him. 

“Try to keep up, mutt,” I goaded teasingly.

Carlos’s smile deepened at my challenge, and we all but ran to the baggage area, making our way down the escalator without mishap. I slid my cell phone out and powered it up as we waited for the baggage carousel to start. The flight had been a taxing ten hours with a layover in New York City. We had made it in on the 742 by eleven, but I didn’t think we’d make it home officially until after midnight.

About the Author

I live in Columbus with my dog Sunny and cat Geronimo, though I'm originally from South Carolina. Writing has been a major part of my life, one of my greatest outlets. In high school I churned out half-finished stories all the time, most of them not very good. After a short stint in college, where I pursued a major in criminology, I decided to throw in the towel. For financial purposes I gave up that life and with a bit of soul searching, decided to turn back to my outlet. Now I'm a full-fledged author.

Of course it wasn't as easy as just saying "I'm a writer"! It took a lot of sweat, blood, and twice as many tears to get to this point.

I've been a fan of the fantasy genre for as long, if not longer, as I've been a fan of writing. Though I'm an avid reader in all genres, I have a particular soft spot for it. So it only made sense for me to turn to urban
fantasy/horror as a genre I wanted to write for. Erotica was just an added bonus, because as I always say, the best things to write about are sex and violence!

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