Monday, December 3, 2012
Jmo is back with a little Immortally under his belt.
So, where was I for a whole month? Sure, I should be ashamed that without a word, I just slipped off the grid, but I had my reasons. What were they, you might be asking yourself while stirring that pot of tar and fluffing a sizable bag of feathers. Well, it's like this. I was finishing a book. Editing a book. Editing another book, and finally editing the first book for a second time. Oh, and I started writing a couple books. As you can see, I didn't disappear to just be disappearing. I had my reasons. That said, let's cut to the chase.
After three years of planning, one year of writing, I have produced a book that fulfills every desire I ever had when I became a writer. That isn't to say, I won't be repeating this statement in the near future, because growth is what every author strives for. Immortally Damned, the one I was just talking about, is the next step on that growth ladder for me. Feel free to make a mark on the door jamb. I know I did.
I could probably talk your ears off about this book, but for once I think I'm going to let my words do my talking for me. So, sit back and enjoy a taste of my latest work, Immortally Damned. Just to warn you, there's a little harsh language in this excerpt.
Deserting Breeze Publishing
Caern swore to never return to New Orleans, his death warrant making the choice easy. Well, easy until his past returns to smack him around. Now, he has to return to the one place where death isn't a possibility, it's a guarantee. And only a matter of time. Searching to find a murderer out to kill the grandchild he never thought to meet, he finds himself falling into a hell he just might not be able to crawl free of. His only hope lies in Detective Eliza Marrone. Falling for her isn't in the cards, but his heart tells him it might be the only thing he can't escape. Zombies, old lovers and psychopathic vampire clergy, yeah those are things he can deal with. True love on the other hand is the one thing he's always avoided. This time there's no way out. It might get him killed, or end up saving his wretched soul.
"Long time, no see, Monk."
"Tempest," Caern growled from deep inside his throat.
He couldn't believe the woman had the nerve to stride into his bar like she owned it. Then again, full bloods never changed, and after nearly seventy years the slut hadn't changed one bit. With her raven hair hanging past her full hips, ivory unblemished skin, breasts that made grown men weep, and lips that promised kisses of more than a friendly nature, Caern could see how a man could be fooled to thinking he'd found the answer to his every dream. Too bad he knew the damaged goods lurking underneath that wet dream come to life. The only thing he didn't know was what the whore was doing here. He didn't spare the muscle crowding the doorway behind her a second glance. They were less than a decade old to the blood. No, the woman was the dangerous one. He had painful memories to back that fact up.
"What a delightful little hovel you have here, Monk." She ran a fingertip over a table cluttered with empties. "I never pictured you as the barkeep type, but half-bloods are fickle creatures. Their human sides always making them think they're normal."
"Is there a point to this visit, or did you just come here to make a beautiful corpse?" Caern's hand twisted in a fist, gripping the weapon he didn't have.
He wished he was close enough to the pool table so he could make that come true. The table was in the back room, along with the sticks. Closest thing to a stake on hand. He cursed himself for not planning for this. Being with Chase had lulled him into a false sense of security. If he didn't play this just right, he'd be too dead to bitch his partner out over that fact. Tempest was three hundred years of pure vampire. When they got that old, their power grew to levels directly proportional to their insanity. Only the strongest willed of them survived with their minds intact. Tempest wasn't one of those.
He and Raiz could handle her and her goons easily, but Caern wanted to find out what she wanted. More importantly, what Katyarina wanted? Tempest didn't crawl out of bed without her mistress' say so. For Katya to send the rabid bitch after him, it had to be pretty damned important, otherwise he'd already be dead and he would have never sensed her outside. That subtle message told him the shit was about to hit the fan.
Raiz moved up behind him. The heat rolling off the were-bear scorched his back. Yeah, his bud was definitely ramped up for some action. Caern guessed taking out the good old boys hadn't satisfied him. Not that Caern could blame him. Their kind lived for violence, no matter how civilized they looked on the outside. Well, as civilized as Caern looked on the outside. Raiz, on the other hand, was the poster boy for mindless violence.
"Dear sweet Caern. Did you really think I'd come here without a free passage." Tempest reached into the pocket of the flowing green sundress that barely concealed what the devil gave her. Caern tensed as she pulled her hand free and tossed a bloody rag at his feet. "There that should satisfy you."
Even without bending down, Caern recognized Katya's scent. Kicking the rag away, he tried not to focus on the implication of what that meant. "Then rules are in play. You have five minutes to get your business done before I forget the pacts that keep me from killing you."
She sucked on her finger. "It's not my business. I thought the széntz adzabȩ would have been explanation enough. The queen has need of your unique services."
"You can tell your queen I kindly refuse her sacred call." If he had had a hundred years to obsess over the might have beens, he might have actually jumped like a lapdog to run to Katya's beck and call. Too bad he had two good reasons to say no, or that might have happened anyway.
"Surely you're not letting something like a death sentence stop you from obeying a command from your liege?" Tempest snorted, like he'd let her goad him into losing his mind.
"I don't have a queen. In case old age has addled your brain, Katyarina tossed me from the blood. She doesn't have a hold on me anymore." Caern straightened his back. "So you can catch the next plane to New Orleans or flap your ass cheeks and fly back for all I care. I'm done listening."
He motioned for Raiz to follow him back to the bar. Turning his back on the bitch might not have been the best idea he ever had, but he'd be damned even more than he already was if he'd show her an ounce of give-a-damn. Besides, if she tried something, he had a twelve foot were-bear that had his back. Let the blood whore top that.