Book Tour Stop: Mychael Black's Spiritori @ChangelingPress

   

Title: Spiritori

Author: Mychael Black

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Mystery /Suspense /Intrigue, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Themes: Dark Romance, LGBTQ+ Gay, LGBTQ+ Sex & Gender Shifters, MPreg, Vampires

Series: Splintered Bloodlines (#4)

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 71

Description

A death mage turns out to be the perfect mate for a human omega.

Lucas Krauss is getting used to being out of a nightmare and acclimating to life with Saridan Tower. His mate is a death mage, one of the deadliest kinds of vamps, and now they are sorting out their lives as a family.

Raphael Santos isn’t fazed by the looks and whispers he gets from passers-by. His status is unmistakable due to his pale skin and the aura that surrounds him. He never thought he’d find his mate, yet a sweet human omega is more than happy to touch him, unafraid of Raphael’s true nature.

But not all is well. House Lorthaen makes it clear that they are not going to leave House Saridan alone, and Raphael vows to protect his family, no matter what.

WARNING: Mpreg, Alpha/omega, Fated Mates, Hurt/Comfort.

Excerpt

Spiritori (Splintered Bloodlines 4)
Mychael Black
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2026 Mychael Black

Lucas

Everything hurt. Not as bad as when I’d… well… when a human cop had swooped in, ready to obliterate Gino Boone. Gino had the jump on him, though, and ate a bullet like a fucking coward. I was happy to be out of that nightmare, but I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about being here now. The head of House Saridan, Deacon, and another vamp had visited me in the hospital and brought me here to Saridan’s Tower. Outside this apartment, I still didn’t feel entirely comfortable, but when Raphael was around, that all changed.

He was my mate. I didn’t need any sort of test to tell me that either. My gut instinct had made it crystal clear the second the man had walked into my hospital room with Deacon.

When we’d arrived here at the tower, I’d noticed others gave Raphael a wide berth. I couldn’t fathom why, though. He’d told me what he was: a death mage. His magic was the kind that manipulated a being’s life force. There seemed to be a faint aura of… something around him everywhere he went. It didn’t scare me, though. He might’ve terrified others, even other vamps, but not me. In private, he was attentive, almost to the point of being a mother hen. He was soft-spoken and gentle, far more than I ever expected someone like him could be.

The wounds from the beating Gino had given me were healing, though I was still sore. The worst part, though, was not knowing how the rest would play out. Gino had whored me out to random bastards, and, at some point, I got pregnant. Raphael knew, but unlike most alphas, he didn’t seem upset about it.

As I sat on the bed, I put a hand on my still-flat belly. I had no clue whose kid I was now carrying, but I’d always wanted a family. I prayed Raphael didn’t want to get rid of it. We hadn’t had much time to talk since, apparently, there was a rival vamp House determined to bring House Saridan down.

The apartment door opened, and I knew who it was without needing to hear or see him. Of course, no one else would come in here, but Raphael didn’t even need to announce himself.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he stepped to the bedroom doorway.

He hurried over to the bed and crouched in front of me, his height putting us at eye-level. He ran his fingers through my hair, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes and smile. His touch was so gentle and loving.

“I’m okay.”

I caught his hand and brought it to my mouth to kiss the tips of his fingers. We’d only hugged, not even a single kiss in the couple of weeks I’d been here, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could wait for him to make a move. Aches or not, I couldn’t deny how attracted I was to him.

Raphael smiled. “Did you rest well?”

I nodded. “Slept like a baby, actually.”

His gaze shifted downward the slightest bit, and my breath caught. His smile was wistful. “We need to talk, you and I.” He looked back up at me. “Are you hungry?”

“I could definitely eat.”

Before he could move away and stand, I gripped his hand tighter. Raphael met my gaze, those almost white eyes mesmerizing. I didn’t need to say another word. He cupped the back of my neck with his other hand and pulled me closer.

I couldn’t recall the last time I’d kissed anyone. I certainly never let any of Boone’s guys do it. It was an act so intimate, so personal, that I’d fought to save it for someone special.

Someone like Raphael.

His touch was featherlight, and his lips were surprisingly soft. I opened for him without hesitation. He took his time, tongue stroking over mine, never trying to take control or push the kiss into harder territory. I could’ve kissed him for the rest of my life and never tired of it. He tasted like the peppermint candies I’d discovered he had an affinity for, and a slightly minty scent swirled in my head.

“If we don’t stop now,” he murmured on my lips, “we’ll never get out of here.”

I chuckled. “In all honesty, I’d started to wonder if maybe this attraction was one-sided.”

Raphael pulled back a little and caressed the side of my face. “Never. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you in the hospital. You needed to heal, though.” He raised one eyebrow at me. “You still do.”

“I’ll admit I’m a little achy, but… please? I promise I’ll tell you if I need to stop.”

“Tell you what. Let’s go eat. We can talk about us, including the baby.”

I swallowed and stared into his eyes, searching for a hint of what he was thinking. “I… I want to keep it. I’m sorry.”

“Never apologize for something you didn’t do,” Raphael said. “And certainly don’t do it with regards to our child.”

Our child.

I somehow managed to blink away the threat of tears. He wanted to keep the baby, too?

Raphael stood and helped me up as well. “Come on, mate. Food and talking.”

After I got dressed, I followed him out of the apartment, my hand held gently in his. I’d worried how he would react to my statement, and I kind of felt like I was in a daze as he led us to the elevator and down to the tower’s main dining room. According to Deacon, there were fifteen floors, with his place as the penthouse at the top. Then there were several floors for residents and the main dining hall. Raphael’s apartment was a single-bedroom and much larger than one would expect.

Until now, we’d had food brought up to us, but I’d told him yesterday I wanted to try to go out and be around others. I’d spent so long being terrified, but now that I was safe, I wanted my life back.

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Mychael Black has been writing professionally since 2005. He writes gay romance and erotica, but also het romance as Carys Seraphine and queer fantasy as Katherine Cook. He's an avid PC gamer with a love for RPGs, a horror fanatic, and a fantasy nut. He also has a weakness for anything relating to skulls, dogs, and Spongebob Squarepants. Mychael lives on the Eastern Shore of the US with his family. He loves to hear from readers, be it via email or Facebook.

Website | Facebook

   

Release Day Blitz: Dragon Forged by Donna Grant

 

Dragon Forged by Donna Grant

Series: Dragon Kings Book 10

Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, Contemporary romance

Release Date: July 8th, 2025

He is fire and fury. I am forbidden to want him. But some fates refuse to be denied.

I have seen the war that will tear our realm apart. As a seer, it is my duty to stop it, and the path to peace is clear—until him.

The Dragon King is dominance and destruction, a force of nature my gift didn’t foretell… and one I cannot escape.

He is dangerous—untamed, possessive. And the one man I cannot afford to want.

Yet every glance, every searing touch, threatens to unravel the future I’m fighting to protect.

Loving him could mean my ruin.

Wanting him could mean the end of everything.

But when betrayals rise and destiny shifts, one truth becomes clear: I saw the war. I never saw him.

And now, I don’t know if I can stop what’s coming… or if I even want to.

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant delivers a riveting tale of desire, danger, and passion in the next installment of the Dragon King series.

 

BUY LINKS:

✦ DG SIGNED HC → https://dgrant.co/3HhTBi3

✦ DG SIGNED PB → https://dgrant.co/DForged

✦ DG Store ebook → https://dgrant.co/DForged

✦ Kindle → https://amzn.to/4aiGbNk

✦ Nook → https://dgrant.co/3DVBxZk

✦ Nook Audio → https://dgrant.co/3RobPQR

✦ Apple → https://apple.co/4ae6dB3

✦ Kobo → https://dgrant.co/4gPdSYZ

✦ Kobo audio → https://dgrant.co/3E1HhAF

✦ Google → https://dgrant.co/42c0Q3l

✦ Audiobooks → https://dgrant.co/4jfEW5m

✦ Tantor → https://dgrant.co/4j3jgcT

 

 

WRITERS WRITE... WRITING PARTNERS FEUD ~ MAY-DECEMBER RELATIONSHIPS

There has been a phenomenon that has existed whereas unattractive men hook up with attractive women, often older men, with an age difference wide enough that it risks social disapproval. It dates back to the movies of the 40s, 50s and 60s. Perpetuated by the recent movies that depict May-December relationships, such as An American Haunting, Get Smart, Bulworth, Lost in Translation, Me Without You, Sin City, or Whatever Works.

A: What was the May-December relationship in Get Smart?
Z: Great question. My research gave me these movies. And I also thought about Get Smart. The only moment that might have fit the description was the baker clerk and Agent 86. They might have missed it by thiiisss much. (Shows thumb and pointer gesture describing the distance not the size of anything else)
A: Do you like the premise of those movies? (Hikes up her chin in a lofty manner)
Z: Was that implying I'm old? (He pulls downward his hiked up pants, showing boxer top to look hip)
A: Ouch! Maybe I was. Mia culpa. (She curtseys respectfully... rises and juts tongue)
Z: Bronson Alcott once wrote, "As we grow old, the beauty steals inward." I think I believe that relationships are what they are. Pigeon-holing love into age groups fails the logic test for me. (Looks in the mirror, moistens pinkie, smoothes eyebrows... Strikes a bon vivant expression)
A: To quote Bernard Baruch, "To me, old age is always fifteen years older than I am." (The two fist-bump in agreement... a gesture they both would not admit was stupid because that hurt)
Z: One older male friend who sadly was a widower for twelve years began dating and as the premise of this piece would indicate a much younger woman. (He adds three items to his Christmas list to be e-mailed as an amendment to previous Christmas lists)
A: Cradle robber?
Z: Not quite. When I asked him why, even though we were in the common room of church he replied, "The little head kept whining and whining that I have not taken him out in awhile."
A: Typical male behavior, but rephrasing Bob Dylan's lyrics, 'Everybody must get boned!'
Z: Angelica! Shame-shame. (He does the index finger over index finger tsk-tsk gesture) And the man used convoluted reasoning, he agreeing with the little head and realizing it only recognized younger women. That's all it knew.
A: What goes up and never comes down? (Offers a broad toothy grin)
Z: (Red faced thinking, something with Viagra in it) Ok, tell me.
A: Your age. (She laughs...he didn't) The Butler said it, "There's many a good tune played on an old fiddle." Maybe he needs music lessons, the classics are oft the greatest works. (Now she looks in the mirror and gives herself a thumbs up with a wink)
Z: You and Canetti get it. Elias wrote, "One part of him is old and another is still unborn." I think many men need emotional maturation.
A: Serrriousss overdoes!
Z: Sorry. The peanut went to the police station stating he was assaulted. Better?
A: Not much! Knowing men who have so engaged in this extension of a mid-life crisis, not being able to afford that Porsche, when asked, "Do you deserve such a trophy on your arm?" One fifty-five year old softball player I know replied, "Well... but I have arthritis, an enlarged prostate, and a receding hairline, and I don't deserve those."
Z: So I believe that relationships are hard to achieve. Life is far too short. My buddy Stanislaw Lec said, ""Oh to be old again," said a young corpse."
A: And this means what to me?
Z: I believe we should love who we love.
A: Proponents of the old man young woman dynamic argue that the man is bright and the women enhances his milieu. Rumor has it this was propaganda presented by old men and young women. And many have said that they will begat the perfect children. Having his profound mind and her stunning body.
Z: But what if, the child has his saggy body and her less than mature mind?
A: So I ask you, should people over fifty engage in physical relationships? (She thinks about the bald man who got a comb for his birthday and him telling his Granddaughter, "I will never part with it.")
Z: Whereas, for some fifty is the ultimate F word, I contend that a fifty-year-old is in fact an eighteen-year-old with thirty-two years of experience. To answer your question, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!
A: Should their partner be younger?
Z: Yes, no, maybe so. To quote one of my favorite authors Ogden Nash...
A: (Interrupts) "Candy's dandy but liquor's quicker."
Z: Same guy but this was more profound then profane. "How confusing beams from memories lamp are; One day a bachelor, the next a grandpa. What is the secret of the trick? How did I get so old so quick?"
A: We believing every boat has a right to float, and have chosen to be supporters of all relationship dynamics.

When writing this, we recalled a story told us at a party by some friends when we asked about role-playing for the purpose of spicing up their romance, and when we say romance we mean... well, you know what we mean. A husband related that one evening he asked his wife if she'd like to play boss and secretary. This was after the most noted movie with the title, Secretary, and if you haven't seen it, well, see it. James Spader was, well... you gotta see it. Back to the couple, she as he described found a huge smile on her face and responded with an enthusiastic, "Yes!" This husband related at that instant he knew role-playing would amp up what was becoming a little same ole same ole. But as we all know, life provides a twist or two and as the wife began to play out the script, she grabbed a prop and extended a hand to him and stated, "Here's your steno pad, dear."

A: In a recent manuscript, LOVE LETTERS, three of the relationships are in fact ones where the females are older. They were the most fun to create and provided much fodder for sensuality, motivation and some amusement.
Z: So the older woman gets the young hunky... wait a second... (Zi thought... MILF... shook his head cleansing offensive references... old woman-young guy, that was Angelica's idea... was I manipulated? I've some research to do. Be right back. Ah-ha, I have returned. She told me it was my idea, though Angelica really liked it. Thought so. I adore women and want them to be happy. Oops... far too much information.)
A: Old is a state of mind. Weaver wrote, "I'm not as old as I used to be."
Z: And Mark Twain gave us, "Wrinkles should merely indicate where the smiles have been."
A: Last year my birthday cake looked like a field fire.
Z: I remember it set off the smoke detector.
A: Stereotyping gender age?
Z: Yes, I am.

***
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a free ebook (choose erotic or romantic thriller) and add you to any future mailings.



Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com

Cover Reveal for Fall, Jump and Step by Cindy Paterson

Books: Jump, Step, Fall

Author: Cindy Paterson

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Release date: Currently Available

Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

JUMP
Buy at: Amazon  / Apple /Barnes & Nobles

Centuries of loyalty

His code of honor was respected without question, until he consumed the blood of an enemy in exchange for a mortal woman to be set free from certain slavery.

He can’t forget her

Despite knowing, he will be imprisoned and put to death if caught, Balen, a fierce Senses Tracker, returns to Toronto to find the mortal woman, Danielle, he left behind two years ago. Haunted with memories of the torture they endured in the hands of a Senses enemy, Balen’s determination to see her again, drives him to risk everything. But when he does, a new enemy comes into play, one he can’t defeat. 

To conquer the wrath of fear

Determined to find some sort of peace after her abduction, Danielle finds solace in painting a man from her nocturnal unconsciousness. When he comes knocking on her door, her world is shattered and Danielle must face her worst fears in order to survive what is coming after them. It won’t stop. It can’t. For the ancient spell has no compassion. 

A journey of tenacious desire that refuses to fade even though that is what will destroy them. Because—in order for Danielle to live, first she must die.

STEP
Buy at: Amazon /Apple / Barnes & Nobles

‘Only her love can restore his trust—only with his trust can she win her battle.’

Kilter, an immortal Senses Visionary, excels at being rude and crass with little hope of finding peace after being betrayed and tortured by his brother more than a hundred years ago. Reckless and stubborn he has alienated everyone—just the way he likes it. Until the day he meets Rayne and emotions he buried long ago are reawakened. 

Rayne suffers from Anorexia Nervosa. Trapped by debilitating thoughts and a false sense of control, Rayne is slowly dying. Her husband has kept her secluded and alone for years, causing her to withdraw into an emotionless shell. But Rayne’s outward behavior is deceiving for beneath her delicate existence is a woman with strength. The trouble is—can she find that part of herself that has been driven away? Or has her cruel husband broken her fragile existence?

The two tortured souls are brought together only to be torn apart and forced to relive their horrific pasts in order to find salvation. But Rayne’s past has more significance than the Senses realize and their enemies will do anything in order to get her back. 

The Senses are in for one hell of a fight as Waleron is forced to make the hardest decision of his life—Damien is tortured beyond his emotional capability by the witch Abigail—and Delara is drawn into a vampire’s arms only to have him use her darkest secret against her.

FALL
Buy at: Amazon  / Apple / Barnes & Nobles / Smashwords 

An unrequited love that has ripped her to pieces. 

Delara has loved Waleron for over a century. Their intense chemistry is sensual, gripping, irresistible. But tragedy struck, and after sixty-one years of believing he was dead, Waleron returns a tortured man. He claims the man she loves is dead, yet the undeniable sexual tension still pulls them together. 

“I am no longer the man you love, maitagarri. I am incapable of it.” 

Waleron has given his oath to protect the Senses. He will sacrifice everything for them. But there is one Senses he has vowed to protect more than any other—Delara. He will do anything to make certain she is safe, even if it means he must deny her the love they once shared.

She is the hunted.

Delara’s life is in jeopardy and Waleron will do anything to protect her. But he never suspected that Xamien, the man he brings to help protect her is way more important to her than he ever knew. 

Torn between two men and hunted by another, Delara must fight her hardest battle—herself.

FALL can be read as a stand-alone, however it is highly recommended to read the 1st two books to completely understand the love story. 

This book is intended for 18 and up.

Author Bio:

I am Xamien's secret lover. Well, in my head I am and since I'm single this is completely allowed. Some of you may ask, who is Xamien, don't worry you will meet him soon enough, but no falling in love with him. He is all mine.

Writing books is a fantastic way to have adventures that are impossible to have otherwise. I mean do you really want to fall in love with Waleron? He is so unstable and would never pick up after your dogs or clean the litter box. Not to mention the fact that he is always out killing disgusting grave robbing bug people.

Curling up with a good book and losing yourself to another time and place is the greatest reward. Being able to feel a character's emotions, their fears, pain and love. Now that is incredible. I relish in the books that stay with me long after they have ended. This is what I strive for in my writing. To give the readers, and myself, an escape into another world, my world.

I have been writing since I was twelve. My parents, sorry mom and dad, would send me to my room for an hour every night to do homework, and instead I wrote stories. Oops, guess that is why i did so bad in math.

I have never stopped writing since then and never will. It's like an addiction, but a good one. I adore stepping into the shoes of a character and deciding their fate. The characters are why I write. I want to fall in love with them (even the bad ones), so that I care about what happens to them in a story. If I can't care about the characters then why bother with the story.

I live in Toronto with a menagerie of pets that keep me on my toes. 

Social Links:

Facebook | Website | Twitter | Goodreads  | (BLOVEL)

VBT Stop~Blurb Blitz for Walk Me Through Time/Contest

Contest Information is after the Excerpt

Walk with me Through Time by Jennifer Conner
Historical/Time Travel
Buy at http://www.amazon.com/Walk-Through-Dimension-Keepers-ebook/dp/B009O8813M/ref=sr_1_34?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1350351007&sr=1-34&keywords=jennifer+conner

An enchanting time-travel romance for fans of Jude Deveraux and Diana Gabaldon.

Hadley Easton has a family legacy to uphold as a Time-Keeper. He guides people forward -or back- who feel they were born into the wrong time.

Samantha turns his world upside down when she arrives through the front door of the London bookstore. No one arrives through the front doo: it’s the time portal.  On top of that, she informs him she’s from the year 2012, over a hundred years in the future.

When Hadley learns the truth, he realizes his time is running out...

Teaser Excerpt:

“I love you, Hadley,” she cried, and tumbled over the edge.

 There was a cool breeze against Sam’s face. She opened her eyes.

 She was alone.

 “Hadley?” she called his name. He’d never told her his name at the bookstore. Had she made it up in the dream or was that truly his name? Confused, Sam sat up and looked around the room. She flipped on bedside lamp expecting to see him come out of the bathroom, but the room remained dark.

She’d been dreaming? 

You must return to the bookstore. He needs your help. You are the only one.

Voices spoke in her head. Clear and carrying precise instructions. Over and over like a recording.

Sam swore she still smelled the essence of his soap and sandalwood. Getting out of bed, she carefully searched the bedroom but found nothing. A sense of loss washed over her. This was crazy, how could she be sad he was gone if he’d never been there?

Contest Information:

Jennifer will be awarding a pocket watch (US/Canada only) to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. 

I encourage you to to follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here: 

http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2012/09/virtual-walk-with-me-through-time-by.html

Jennifer Conner is a best-selling Northwest author who has twenty short stories and one full length book on ebook and in print. She writes in Contemporary Romance, Paranormal Romance, Historical Romance, and Erotica.

Christmas Chaos was in the Kindle sales top 50 ebooks and #2 in the Romance category.

Her novel Shot in the Dark was a finalist in the Emerald City Opener, Cleveland, and Toronto RWA contests.

Jennifer is an Associate Publisher for the indie e-book publisher, Books to Go Now who resides in the Seattle area. They pride themselves in helping new authors get their foot in the door with well-edited manuscripts, professional covers, and platforms uploads.

She live in a hundred year old house that she grew up in. Her semi-small town holds an interesting mix of resident hillbillies, yuppies and Navy Seals. And of course Seattle, only a few miles away, is the birthplace of Starbucks so coffee is always on the check list. She blows glass beads with a blow torch, (which relieves a lot of stress and people don't bother you) and is  a huge fan of my local soccer teams, the Seattle Sounders, and Kitsap Pumas. Boys in shorts! :)

www.jenniferconnerbooks.com

http://jenniferconnerwriter.blogspot.com/

https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.conner2

http://www.bookstogonow.com/sweetjenniferconner.html

http://www.bookstogonow.com/historicalromancejenniferconner.html

http://pinterest.com/jennilynnjac/

.

WRITERS WRITE...WRITING PARTNERS FEUD

A LITTLE COFFEE WITH YOUR CREAM?

Ah ha! Bet you are thinking this article is all about coffee or cream or even the juxtaposition of the usual into the unusual.

Z: Huh?
A: Go with it...
Z: Ooookay!

Well, we're actually going to discuss a book's backstory. Think of your novel as coffee and your backstory as cream. You usually add just a bit of cream to your coffee not the other way around, except for Zi, but that's a pot of another kettle.

Z: Huh?
A: Go with it...
Z: Ooookay!

Anywho, many novice writers are so anxious to share their research and development, they bog down the opening with as much information as they can.
Z: By the way don't you drink tea?
A: That's not the point...
Z: But...
A: Do you want to write this?
Z: Thought you'd never ask. (With a hip bump moves Angelica's chair aside until he is settled before and computer.)

The backstory is a vital part of plotting. It stimulates the story, and gives the characters motivation. After all, each character has a past and present, and a certain amount of that has to be conveyed. And, even though you might know this characters inside, backwards and upside down, the reader doesn't need to hear about the protagonist's fifth grade science project that blew up spewing purple dye all over Mrs. Greenspan. Unless, of course, it is vital to the story's conflict.

A: Hey wait, that wasn't a backstory but an actual event. You were in sixth grade when that happened, weren't you?"
Z: No comment. The case is still pending.

So, here are a few key factors to K I S S (Keep It Simply Simple) your way to the perfect amount of backstory.

KEEP -
While creating your character, make their history rich. Make certain you write down everything from your characters' most embarrassing moments to who they took to the senior prom and if they prefer chocolate to vanilla ice cream, and then, don't use anything but that which is pertinent to the story. Plus, only go back in time as far as is necessary. The opulence of your character will come through just because you know them so well. It will shine in their speech, their mannerisms, and the way they think.

IT -
There is always that IT factor in every story, the thing that is the crux of the story. For the present conflict to exist there must be something in the backstory that is relevant and must be told, and sometimes in great depth. Still, sprinkle it in, slowly, a bit at a time. It's like adding sugar to that ole coffee. Too sweet and people will make a face, or in a narrative just get bored and put the book down.

SIMPLY -
There are simply some great places you can add backstory that work better than others. The prologue is usually a great spot to drop a few spicy tidbits like cinnamon in your brew. Here you can tell rather than show more easily than anywhere else in the story. Using the character's memory is another great tool. Something current can trigger a recollection. Also, a flashback is great method of allowing the reader to see what had happened to create the present circumstance. One of the most basic conduits for the backstory is dialogue. Characters can reflect, explain, and address basic aspects of the plotline all while sitting across from each other having, well, a cup of coffee or climbing Mt. Everest, all depends on your story.

SIMPLE -
Remember simple is better. Don't be so enamored with your backstory that you distract from the action. Too much of it hinders the flow of the story. What had happened to set the plot in motion needs to be streamlined. Pare down your paragraphs and pages of information to a single line. Sum it up and place it strategically in the prose.

The backstory is the stimuli and the foundation of the book, but it is not the totality of the story, nor is it the pure action that keeps the readers moving along. So, when you ask yourself if you want a little plot with your backstory, remember to tell yourself to hold the cream.

A: Huh?
Z: I'm just tying it in to the beginning.
A: But...
Z: Hey, how about a cuppa?
A: You buyin'?
Z: Don't I always.


***
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (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 ~ CHASING YESTERDAY
CHRISTMAS EVE...VIL ~ Christmas 2012
www.champagnebooks.com


Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
STEEL EMBRACE
BOOK NOOKIE-A LIBRARIAN'S BUIDE TO THE DO-ME DECIMAL SYSTEM http://www.carnalpassions.com/


THE FABLE OF SIN-SIN CINDERELLA Series
angelicahartandzi.com

WRITERS WRITE...WRITING PARTNERS FEUD

CHOCOLATE OR PHEROMONES?
By:
Angelica Hart and Zi

A: So, what came first the chocolate or the pheromones?
Z: What?
A: (Between words, she munches on a nutty piece of chocolate candy) I'm interchanging the word chocolate for love.
Z: What? (Looking even more confused)
A: Love is like chocolate. Being in love is simply a fabulous feeling, like eating a piece of chocolate, but do people fall in love because of a chemical reaction that exists because of pro-creation? Or does the chemical reaction happen because one person is drawn to another person, and then bingo-bango, the pheromones go crazy?
Z: And we are talking about this cauuuussse???
A: It's nearly Valentine's Day, so why not? (Holds out a heart-shaped box with half the treats gone)
Z: Didn't your hubba-bubba just give that to you five minutes ago, an early V-day gift? (Indulges, hesitates, and takes another candy)
A: Maaayyybbbbeee.
Z: You are a certifiable chocoholic! (Scoops up two more sweets)
A: Hmmm, I believe this is a case of the honeypot calling the beehive sticky.
Z: Maaayyybbbbeee. (Pops a treat, muttering how he doesn't get the connection Ang is making between chocolate and love and alters the subject a bit) Answer me this and that, do you think a person can really be addicted to chocolate? Is love just a chemical reaction, or is there something more?
A: More...More...More....
Z: Explain.
A: (Holds up her empty candy box) I need to go shopping for more candy. We're all out. (With that, Ang flees the office)

Seriously, folks, what is that crazy little thing called love. According to science, our brain creates phenyl ethylamine when people are falling in love, followed by norepinephren and dopamine when people just think about that special other person. These chemicals are what helps us feel excited and fascinates us enough to want to kiss, touch...etc.

But why one particular person over another? Yes, there is that initial attraction, but in a crowd of equals whether it is the beautiful people or the average Janes and Joes, with no one singular person standing out, we would still be drawn to one person over another. Therefore, does love have more to do with emotion and that soul to soul thing? Is it magic? What?

Think about the first time you went gaga over someone. You could have been just a child. Out of the blue, the moon hit your eyes like a bigga pizza pie, to paraphrase a once popular song, and suddenly everyone else faded away. It could have been the gal on the swing in the playground or the boy snapping his gum in study hall, and as you grew up, the guy/gal across the room.

We believe, there is something to be said about our souls and spirits knowing each other better than we do, meeting and engaging in a different dimension, and something even more to be said about the need for one other, the constant yearning to have that significant special other. It is why there are romance readers. It is a way to continuously trigger the chemicals that make us feel so darn good...like chocolate.

Then again, what do we know except that Angelica is addicted to chocolate, and Zi has a secret stash he didn't tell her about.

What do you think, what comes first?

HAPPY VALENTINE'S MONTH

****

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (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 ~ CHASING YESTERDAY
CHRISTMAS EVE...VIL ~ Christmas 2012
www.champagnebooks.com


STEEL EMBRACE by Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
August 2011 http://www.carnalpassions.com/


THE FABLE OF SIN-SIN CINDERELLA Series
angelicahartandzi.com

WRITERS WRITE...WRITING PARTNERS FEUD

Celebrating Vixen Bright's and Zachary Zane's signing a new book contract with Carnal Passions, we are offering an excerpt from that to-be-named book.

A: It doesn't have a title?
Z: It does but it's a working title.
A: And that is...?
Z: As the Bookworm Turns
A: Ahhhh.... In otherwords, Vixen and Zachary can't agree on a book title as yet.
Z: Exxxxactly!

STORY (Erotica)

At the library, while the facially scared Kathryn Pines obsesses over books, Keen Edge appears out of nowhere. Looking exactly like the sizzling hunk on a book cover, he invites Kathryn to journey with him into stories, she the heroine, he the hero. Every lusty, luscious, whimsical adventure is overlaid with elements of bondage and submission.

Kathryn surrenders to the passions and adventures of four tales raging from contemporary to fantasy, and soon loses her heart to Keen. Keen, though, isn’t just a character in a book and his invitation to forever might be more ominous than it appears.

EXCERPT (non-edited)

"I think tonight I shall toy with the fantasy of being a rich debutante, Clare, and my father, a baron, who had hired a virile stable boy." She read out loud a book’s inside blurb then looked at the salacious cover, "He's far less the boy and much more the stunning man."

"Thank you," rang a response.

Kathryn turned. "May I help you?" she asked.

"Might I ye?"

"Who are you?"

The handsome dark-haired man, a crescent scar filling his left cheek, wore a linen unbuttoned, sleeveless shirt that displayed massive arms, while stomach muscles rippled beneath bronzed skin. With canted head, he winked, "Don't ye know?"

Familiar twinges in her pussy encouraged her to touch. His handsome features and well-developed physique spontaneously spawned those twitches. "No."

He studied her as if devouring every stitch of clothing, chewing them off of her, leaving her vulnerable and naked. "Ye called me--stunning."

Recollection snapped her eyes, as she turned to the cover of the book in her hand, stared, flashed back to the man before her and retorted, "You!" His image was on the bodice ripper's cover.

"T'is I, m'Lady. I am Keen. Might I help ye?"

"Is this a joke?" Though anger simmered, the thought that anyone cared enough to pull a prank was also flattering.

"Keen, does not joke with a goddess such as ye."

"I'm being punked aren't I?"

"No, m'Lady."


****

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (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 ~ CHASING YESTERDAY
CHRISTMAS EVE...VIL ~ Christmas 2012
www.champagnebooks.com


STEEL EMBRACE by Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
August 2011 http://www.carnalpassions.com/


THE FABLE OF SIN-SIN CINDERELLA Series
angelicahartandzi.com

WRITER'S WRITE...WRITING PARTNERS FEUD

We submit for your consideration the conclusion of an eerie short story.

TAPPING part four

(short story continued from October 20 & 27 & November 3 - the last three Thursdays)

[Emily and Sam, college professors, just moved into an riverfront historical home, where a persistent tapping could be heard but not be found. That coincides with a revitalization of their sex lives in unexpected ways.]

"I keep hearing tapping."

As if to confirm Emily's words, a soft tap...tap...tap began. "See," Emily said with obvious exasperation.

The woman cocked her head, narrowed her eyes in full concentration. "I heard nothing. It is an old house, my dear. There will be noises. Tapping the least to expect."

"Yes, of course," Emily said, but did not like the thought of never figuring out what made the tapping noise. Maybe recuperating in the kitchen would not be such a bad idea.

After Sam escorted the elderly woman out, he returned to Emily's side, all prim and proper. "Would you care for some sumacade, ma'am?"

"If memory serves me right, isn't that a drink made from sumac berries. Mind you, only the hairy red ones for the white ones will kill you."

"Yup, haven't heard or seen that outside of history books or historical sites."

"They really live an historical type of life," she said. "Maybe we won't fit in as well as I thought. I mean, I adore dressing up in period clothes and doing the whole high tea thing and even attending a few historical sort of events, but every day. No way."

"Think of it this way. It will be a hoot. We can laugh in private.”

“You’re bad.”

“We'll keep to ourselves as much as possible. That has never been a problem. Forever together, just us two. Never drinking the sumacade."

Emily was not certain that would be for the best, but for the moment it was all she wanted. "Quite well put," she said her tone as haughty as Mrs. Wallingford's.


Over the next several days, Emily's sprained ankle started to improve. She had not returned to work, but was managing to get up and down stairs a bit, lessening her time in the attic. She also went through the trunks and found just the right outfits for herself and Sam. The impending high tea excited her, for she was certain Mrs. Wallingford would make it all as authentic as possible. They would also meet their other neighbors. Emily hoped they had a modern life as well as this old world one. Everything was coming together, perfect, but for that persistent tapping.

Sam after a power-nudging session, superficially investigated, and promised to do more when less busy all followed by an Emily, “Right!”

Then, the afternoon of the tea arrived, after they were completely dressed, and for no specific reason Sam recalled seeing the shadow in the attic's side window on the day of Emily's accident.

"Let's just go. I don't want to be late," Emily said.

"We have a full half-hour before tea time," Sam returned, he raised a pinky.

"But I don't want to get mussed up."

"Come on, don't you want to solve the mystery of the tapping wall."

“Now?”

“Un-huh!”

With a sigh, she followed behind him as he climbed the stairwell. "Of course I do, but we can do it afterward."

"I might forget, again."

"I won't."

"Let's just do it."

Since they were now standing in the attic, she flipped up a hand in submission. "Go for it."

He walked into the closet and came out again, then walked back inside. "Doesn't it seem as if the space in here is smaller than this outside wall implies?"

“Technical.”

“Rose nose.” Only the two understood their references.

She followed his example in and out of the closet. "It does, but maybe that's just because they walled over the window, which I'd really like to uncover one day."

“I hope the key word is you.”

“Yes, it is… you.” Pointing a finger at him.

He started to knock against that wall. "Let's do it."

"All right, after..."

"Now," he interrupted.

"You're nuts."

"It won't take long," he said, still knocking away. "I'll get the..." His words stopped in mid-breath as something squeaked and the wall popped open. Sam stuck his head in a puff of dust and sneezed. "Look at this."

Emily peered around his shoulder and saw a passageway leading downward.

“Mystery solved.” Sam pointed. Could it be the tapping came from a lantern, hanging from a hook? It swayed and hit the corner nook as the wind gushed through the worn window casing. Sam looked back at her and grinned. “SherlockfreakinHolmes.”

Their attention turned toward the staircase revealed. "Want to check it out?"

She nodded enthusiastically. All thought of tea and their formal wear forgotten.

Finding a box of matches on a small shelf next to the lantern, he struck one and lit the wick. The oil though aged burnt well.

They moved downward one creaky step at a time, down the spiral stairwell, brushing away cobwebs, spitting them hating the taste, entertaining the musty smells, hearing the patter of small claws rushing as they approached, testing each step for integrity, until they reached a room which had to be beneath the basement. It was not as dusty as one would have thought, nor were there as many cobwebs, almost as if the spiders avoided this place.

Through the dimness, Emily could make out furnishings and a box of candles. Using the lantern's flame, she concentrated on lighting them and placing them in holders until the room was better lit. "Look at this place," she said softly, nearly in awe.

"It's like a hideaway."

She grinned. "Look, a phonograph."

"A piano."

"A paint set."

"Always wanted to paint."

They continued to investigate the room, decorated with nineteenth century furnishings and accoutrements. There were even games and hobbies housed in bookshelves, and, of course, books, all leather bound. "Mark Twain," Emily said.

"Dickens," Mark added. “Bet they are first editions.”

"What a find," she said, her expression changing as she noticed a small dusty bottle on the end table with a crossbones on the label. Before being able to mention it, Sam pointed toward a portrait over the fireplace.

Stunned to see the couple that had been in Mrs. Wallingford's locket, Emily's voice grew breathy. "It's them."

"Who?"

"The couple from the locket."

Sam looked at the portrait and then down at the ornate red velvet sofa placed in front of the fireplace. He blinked, making out the tops of a something very white, yet sure it could not be what he thought.

He moved to the front of the chair and gasped. Two skeletons half dressed in attire similar to what they wore faced him. They were entwined in an carnal embrace, pelvis to pelvis. "Don't look," he told Emily.

She looked. Cried out. Swallowed. Held her hands against her mouth to lock in a scream.

Sam pulled her against him neither spoke, not knowing what to make of things. "They died doing it," escaped from his lips.

"How horrible!"

Suddenly, their memories cleared and all their passionate encounters since they first moved into the house became clear and vivid, including that they had not been themselves at all.

"No," Emily said, horrified, "we weren't possessed...we weren't...aren't!"

"Of course not!" Sam blurted but his eyes held a look of terror.

At that moment, the tapping began, the skeletons began to move in a mockery of lovemaking. One uneven leg of the sofa lifted and tapped against the floor, first slowly, and then more vigorously. At the same time, two voices erupted, clear and alive. "Forever together, just you two."

The voices came from behind. Emily and Sam spun about. A wash of white light came toward them out of the portrait, filling them, burning them. They were lifted and deposited on the couch, reenacting the sexual act that had taken place so long ago.

Screams echoed through the townhouse. Then silence.


Charles answered the door of Mrs. Wallingford's home. Noting the two arrivals, she grinned and held out her hands. "Ashton, Elizabeth, it is so good to finally have you back. You were wise to remain at the ages you did. I wish we had taken the serum much sooner."

"You took it at just the right age for you, m'dear."

The couple moved into the parlor. Other couples greeted them, men slapping Ashton on the back, women giving double-cheek kisses. They were all of varying ages, but had all been young at the same time, in the same era, and had belonged to the same cult who found a way to cheat death.

"It has been too long," Elizabeth said, in Emily's voice.

Ashton squeezed his wife's hand, his blue Sam eyes crinkled with happiness and very potent desire every time he looked at his wife. "We will only stay a bit, after all, we have much to do."



Six months later, in a home on the same block, another couple carried the last of the unpacked boxes up to the attic of their historical townhouse. The slight woman tilted her head and looked at her husband. "What's that tapping?"

THE END

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com with blog in the subject line and leaves an s-mail aaddress, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.


Angelica Hart and Zi
KILLER DOLLS ~ SNAKE DANCE ~ CHASING YESTERDAY ~ CHRISTMAS EVE...VIL coming soon
www.champagnebooks.com

Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
STEEL EMBRACE http://www.carnalpassions.com/


THE FABLE OF SIN-SIN CINDERELLA Series
angelicahartandzi.com

TheWritersVineyard.com (monthly piece)
www.champagnebooks.blogspot.com(monthly piece)
Dawn's Reading Nook (Thursday's piece)
lovesbooksandmore.blogspot.com/