My webhost was giving me fits, major fits. Apparently last weekend's outage caused them not to restore a bunch of folders to my server--folders that I didn't know I needed until I tried to do anything to the website. Well, the issue was fixed on my Jupiter Gardens site (http://www.jupitergardens.com/ ) , but it remained on my Operation: Write website (http://www.operationwrite.com/ ). And, since Jade and I were planning an unveling party, and she had a lovely little flash fiction piece she was going to use to kick it off, well, I was understandably peeved.
I decided to move the site. However, in my haste, I completely deleted it. Oh noes! Suffice to say, that was not the worst thing I said that day. Luckily, the lovely person who did the design kept the template, and we were able to import earlier posts from blogger. About forty-eight hours later, Operation: Write was once more up and running. Most everything has been readded and the site is as good as it's getting.
Now, to convince Jade to post her flash fiction and get this party started.
However, this has taught me an important lesson. Always keep a backup of your websites, especially now that I don't use FrontPage and won't automatically have it saved on my C:\ drive. Don't be hasty when you're trying to kick someone (in this case my web host) in the ass. And, smile. It will all work out in the end.
I hope your websites behave and you have a stellar week!
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Friday, January 18, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Rogue plotlines and the characters who love them...
The subject line pretty much says it all.
If you're an author, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you're a reader, then imagine the following:
You've got a great story line, great characters. You have a title and even a cover. You know where and when the story is taking place. You sit down to write......... And your characters pull the literary equivalent of jerking up the emergency brake. Then they simply refuse to cooperate.
Well, that's what happened to me on my Urban Phaze story. Set in Cardiff, Wales, it was all ready to go--then it just...stopped. So, I lamented to my co-author (although this title is a solo thing). Within a few minutes, thanks to Shayne's tireless help and constant questions, I have a new story idea that's perfect for the setting: Cardiff.
So let it be said that characters, no matter how "good" they might seem, are purely evil. And co-authors are gods.
If you're an author, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you're a reader, then imagine the following:
You've got a great story line, great characters. You have a title and even a cover. You know where and when the story is taking place. You sit down to write......... And your characters pull the literary equivalent of jerking up the emergency brake. Then they simply refuse to cooperate.
Well, that's what happened to me on my Urban Phaze story. Set in Cardiff, Wales, it was all ready to go--then it just...stopped. So, I lamented to my co-author (although this title is a solo thing). Within a few minutes, thanks to Shayne's tireless help and constant questions, I have a new story idea that's perfect for the setting: Cardiff.
So let it be said that characters, no matter how "good" they might seem, are purely evil. And co-authors are gods.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
No Sex Allowed
Now that I have your attention ... :)
I'm a huge American Idol fan and have watched it religiously since Season 3. Last night was the first episode of Season 7, which highlighted the best (and worst) of auditions in Philadelphia. One contestant only wanted a chance to perform for the judges a song he wrote called "No Sex Allowed."
That, and the previous post about "fade to black" sex scenes, got me thinking. To be perfectly honest, I'm one of those "fade to black" authors. Usually I have to struggle to write sex, because I believe the story should be able to stand on its own without sexual content to engage the reader. It took me a long time to say I wrote erotica or romance ~ in my mind, I write gay fiction. Sometimes there's a little sex in the story, but not as much as some authors write ... and not enough, some of my readers would probably say.
Which is fine with me. Sure, I might make more money writing more sex, but that's not my focus when telling a story. I don't stick in gratuitous sex scenes, or a certain number of fucks per chapter ... I can't do that. If the story dictates that the characters get their groove on, then fine. But I'm not going to go out of my way to find a place to add a little lovin'.
Some of my favorite stories (and, in my mind, my strongest as well) contain little or no sex. Scarred, Persistence of Memory, and my latest release Afflicted come to mind. The first publisher I submitted Persistence of Memory to actually asked me to increase the sexual content of the story, and I refused. I found a different publisher who accepted it as is, and now it's a finalist in the 2008 EPPIES Award, so I guess someone besides myself liked it, eh?
And all this blather leads me to Afflicted, a short story just released by Torquere Press in their Sip line. The story is much more serious than most of my stuff, and came to me almost effortlessly, all at once. It's about a young man who discovers his lover is a "cutter" ~ a person who cuts himself with razors or other implements to inflict pain on his own body. Why? The man doesn't know the answer to that. And he doesn't have any idea how to help his lover, either.
Here's an excerpt from the opening scene. The e-book is available for purchase here.
The first time I saw him naked, I noticed the cuts.
Red, angry scrapes across the pouch of his lower belly, like scratches or claw-marks. "What's this?" I asked, running a finger over one bumpy scab.
He sucked in his gut to pull out of reach. "Nothing." His voice turned sullen, pouting, and the erection that jutted from his thick crop of black curls seemed to wilt a little. "I thought we were going to --"
"Did you do this?" I asked, interrupting him. The cuts bothered me; they spoke of a pain I didn't know how to deal with, and that scared me. He scared me. I thought I'd known him.
When he didn't reply, I looked up from the cuts and saw the answer in his eyes. Sad, dark eyes, downcast, like the sky before a storm. He couldn't seem to meet my gaze, as if the cuts embarrassed him, or he was ashamed of his own weakness. "Where else do you this?" I asked.
Still no answer, but his arms moved behind his nude hips as if hiding from my view and I snatched his right elbow to see for myself. In the low lamplight of my bedroom, I could see very faint traces across his skin, a network of healed flesh. With a hard tug, I pulled him over to my bedside table and turned the lamp up higher, held his arm beneath it. "Please," he said, trembling when my fingers trailed over the scarred flesh. "It's nothing, okay? Those are so old."
Holding his arm aside, I pointed at his stomach. "These aren't."
His hand covered the fresh marks as if he could smooth them away, but he didn't say anything and I knew I was right. Sinking down to sit on my bed, I guided him into the span between my legs and wrapped my arms around his thighs. Ignoring the hard dick pointing at me, I pressed my face to his belly and kissed the highest cut, just below his navel. His hands cradled my head, fingers delving in my hair, and I waited for him to sigh my name before I admonished, "This doesn't happen again."
Excerpt from Afflicted by J.M. Snyder
I'm a huge American Idol fan and have watched it religiously since Season 3. Last night was the first episode of Season 7, which highlighted the best (and worst) of auditions in Philadelphia. One contestant only wanted a chance to perform for the judges a song he wrote called "No Sex Allowed."
That, and the previous post about "fade to black" sex scenes, got me thinking. To be perfectly honest, I'm one of those "fade to black" authors. Usually I have to struggle to write sex, because I believe the story should be able to stand on its own without sexual content to engage the reader. It took me a long time to say I wrote erotica or romance ~ in my mind, I write gay fiction. Sometimes there's a little sex in the story, but not as much as some authors write ... and not enough, some of my readers would probably say.
Which is fine with me. Sure, I might make more money writing more sex, but that's not my focus when telling a story. I don't stick in gratuitous sex scenes, or a certain number of fucks per chapter ... I can't do that. If the story dictates that the characters get their groove on, then fine. But I'm not going to go out of my way to find a place to add a little lovin'.
Some of my favorite stories (and, in my mind, my strongest as well) contain little or no sex. Scarred, Persistence of Memory, and my latest release Afflicted come to mind. The first publisher I submitted Persistence of Memory to actually asked me to increase the sexual content of the story, and I refused. I found a different publisher who accepted it as is, and now it's a finalist in the 2008 EPPIES Award, so I guess someone besides myself liked it, eh?
And all this blather leads me to Afflicted, a short story just released by Torquere Press in their Sip line. The story is much more serious than most of my stuff, and came to me almost effortlessly, all at once. It's about a young man who discovers his lover is a "cutter" ~ a person who cuts himself with razors or other implements to inflict pain on his own body. Why? The man doesn't know the answer to that. And he doesn't have any idea how to help his lover, either.
Here's an excerpt from the opening scene. The e-book is available for purchase here.
The first time I saw him naked, I noticed the cuts.
Red, angry scrapes across the pouch of his lower belly, like scratches or claw-marks. "What's this?" I asked, running a finger over one bumpy scab.
He sucked in his gut to pull out of reach. "Nothing." His voice turned sullen, pouting, and the erection that jutted from his thick crop of black curls seemed to wilt a little. "I thought we were going to --"
"Did you do this?" I asked, interrupting him. The cuts bothered me; they spoke of a pain I didn't know how to deal with, and that scared me. He scared me. I thought I'd known him.
When he didn't reply, I looked up from the cuts and saw the answer in his eyes. Sad, dark eyes, downcast, like the sky before a storm. He couldn't seem to meet my gaze, as if the cuts embarrassed him, or he was ashamed of his own weakness. "Where else do you this?" I asked.
Still no answer, but his arms moved behind his nude hips as if hiding from my view and I snatched his right elbow to see for myself. In the low lamplight of my bedroom, I could see very faint traces across his skin, a network of healed flesh. With a hard tug, I pulled him over to my bedside table and turned the lamp up higher, held his arm beneath it. "Please," he said, trembling when my fingers trailed over the scarred flesh. "It's nothing, okay? Those are so old."
Holding his arm aside, I pointed at his stomach. "These aren't."
His hand covered the fresh marks as if he could smooth them away, but he didn't say anything and I knew I was right. Sinking down to sit on my bed, I guided him into the span between my legs and wrapped my arms around his thighs. Ignoring the hard dick pointing at me, I pressed my face to his belly and kissed the highest cut, just below his navel. His hands cradled my head, fingers delving in my hair, and I waited for him to sigh my name before I admonished, "This doesn't happen again."
Excerpt from Afflicted by J.M. Snyder
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
I read a really good book last week: Captain's Surrender. This was a great historical romance. Very well researched (at least, I assume it was -- I'm no expert), and I loved the two heroes, Josh and Peter. It was interesting that the author also tells the story from the POV of several of the supporting characters, which made all the characters very well rounded. Good battle scenes, too -- made me want to bust out my Master and Commander DVD!
My only complaint is that I would have liked a bit more sex, especially Josh and Peter's first time. I was thinking about this, and whether it's just because I'm a dirty girl who likes a lot of smut in her romance. However, I really think that you can learn a lot about characters through sex. Furthermore, in this day and age I'm kind of mystified when authors choose to fade to black for an important sex scene. (I don't mind fading to black to avoid repetition.)
Still, I do really recommend the book, which should be an indication of how engrossing the story was, even without a ton of sex.
My only complaint is that I would have liked a bit more sex, especially Josh and Peter's first time. I was thinking about this, and whether it's just because I'm a dirty girl who likes a lot of smut in her romance. However, I really think that you can learn a lot about characters through sex. Furthermore, in this day and age I'm kind of mystified when authors choose to fade to black for an important sex scene. (I don't mind fading to black to avoid repetition.)
Still, I do really recommend the book, which should be an indication of how engrossing the story was, even without a ton of sex.
New Release: For Love and country by Mary Winter
For Love and Countryby Mary Winter
Release date: 01/15/08
publisher: Samhain Publishing
Genre: M/M historical (civil war)
length/price: novella $3.50
Blurb:
Love? Or duty? His choice will damn his country—or his heart.
Vampire Basile Gagnon wants nothing more than to put the United States, its war, and the heartbreak he found on its shores far behind him. He has suffered the loss of one too many mortal lovers, and refuses to risk his heart again, not even for Emil, the mortal he turned away five years ago.
When Union soldier Emil Franks steps aboard Basile’s ship, his mission is to try to convince Basile to lend his vessel to the Union cause. But with one look at his former lover, he reveals far more—his lingering love for Basile.
Neither time nor the fires of war have dimmed their passion for each other, but not even the fact that Emil is now a vampire can sway Basile from his course. In two days’ time, he leaves for his native France.
On this war-torn Valentine’s Day, Emil must choose: Love? Or country?
purchase now: http://samhainpublishing.com/romance/for-love-and-country
For more information or to find out about Mary's other works, please visit her website at http://www.marywinter.com/
Monday, January 14, 2008
Two hot new covers to share with you all...
Two new covers came in over the weekend, and I couldn't wait to share them with you all.
The first up (to you right) is the cover for my novella, GWM Wanted. Frauke, from Croco designs, did the artwork and I think it’s just wonderful. This story is part of the Husbands and Wives (or in my case, Husbands and Wives Husbands) series I penned with Anne Douglas and Michelle Cary.
I believe this one is due out sometime in April, though don't hold me to that date.
The second (to your right) is the cover for novella, Eye Candy, which was designed by April Martinez. Eye Candy is the sequel to Man Candy (as if you couldn't tell that by the name, huh? *g*) and is due out in late Feb./early March.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Sex, sex, and more sex!
Now that I have your attention *g*
Okay, those of you who are familiar with my writing know that I don't usually write books with non-stop sex. Well, Love's Evolution came closest I guess, but even that one didn't have a sex scene in every chapter. However, my current work in progress (The Happy Onion, scheduled for release from Samhain in August) seems to be taking a different path.
In other words, all these guys want to do is f***.
I am not kidding. I'm on chapter six, and so far there has been a sex scene in every single chapter except the first one O_O
All that sex really is integral to the story, but yeah. There is a LOT of it.
So here's what I'm wondering. Does lots and lots of sex in a story draw you in, or put you off? It might seem like an odd question, but I don't think it is. I've heard people say more than once that one story or another has too much sex in it. But is that because all the sex didn't really fit the story, or because those particular people just get bored with reading lots of sex scenes? If all the horizontal tango is in some way important to the story, or least fits smoothly into it **insert juvenile snickering here**, does that make it okay to have more sex scenes? It does to me. I love a good sex scene that somehow moves the story forward, and/or tells me something new about one or more characters. If it seems like it's just plonked down in the middle of the plot simply to make the story "hotter" then it tends to turn me off, no matter how beautifully written it is.
What do y'all think? Do you love to read a good manlove scene no matter what, or do you want it to relate to and forward the plot? Or, do you prefer a closed bedroom door? Inquiring minds want to know :D
Okay, those of you who are familiar with my writing know that I don't usually write books with non-stop sex. Well, Love's Evolution came closest I guess, but even that one didn't have a sex scene in every chapter. However, my current work in progress (The Happy Onion, scheduled for release from Samhain in August) seems to be taking a different path.
In other words, all these guys want to do is f***.
I am not kidding. I'm on chapter six, and so far there has been a sex scene in every single chapter except the first one O_O
All that sex really is integral to the story, but yeah. There is a LOT of it.
So here's what I'm wondering. Does lots and lots of sex in a story draw you in, or put you off? It might seem like an odd question, but I don't think it is. I've heard people say more than once that one story or another has too much sex in it. But is that because all the sex didn't really fit the story, or because those particular people just get bored with reading lots of sex scenes? If all the horizontal tango is in some way important to the story, or least fits smoothly into it **insert juvenile snickering here**, does that make it okay to have more sex scenes? It does to me. I love a good sex scene that somehow moves the story forward, and/or tells me something new about one or more characters. If it seems like it's just plonked down in the middle of the plot simply to make the story "hotter" then it tends to turn me off, no matter how beautifully written it is.
What do y'all think? Do you love to read a good manlove scene no matter what, or do you want it to relate to and forward the plot? Or, do you prefer a closed bedroom door? Inquiring minds want to know :D
Friday, January 11, 2008
The Joy of Completion
Though I'm gearing up for For Love and Country's release early next week from Samhain, I turned in another M/M novella, this time to Changeling. It's a story I've talked about over on Operation: Write and one that is near and dear to my heart.
No matter how many times I type (in my head) "the end" there is still immense satisfaction in knowing that I completed a story. It could be a novella (as this one was) or a full-length novel. I finished it. I completed something. I marked plot points off on my outline until I was done. It's a milestone. And it's something I always celebrate.
I'm someone who writes several novels at the same time. So, this means that although I may have the joy of finishing one, there's still several more waiting to be completed. It's not so much a cycle as an ever changing kaleidoscope of plots and progression.
Doesn't matter.
I still celebrate it when I finish a manuscript. And I can't wait to start the next one!
No matter how many times I type (in my head) "the end" there is still immense satisfaction in knowing that I completed a story. It could be a novella (as this one was) or a full-length novel. I finished it. I completed something. I marked plot points off on my outline until I was done. It's a milestone. And it's something I always celebrate.
I'm someone who writes several novels at the same time. So, this means that although I may have the joy of finishing one, there's still several more waiting to be completed. It's not so much a cycle as an ever changing kaleidoscope of plots and progression.
Doesn't matter.
I still celebrate it when I finish a manuscript. And I can't wait to start the next one!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Coming Soon
Samurai Captive, my first solo book from Loose ID will be out next month and it came about in an unusual way.
Then again maybe it's not so unusual for a yaoi fan.
I'm sure I'm not alone in seeing m/m pairings in all sorts of situations whether they're in a film or TV show or book. Louis & Lestat--definitely a couple. Spike & Angel--you know they did the deed at least once. And let's face it, any J-rock fangirl worth her salt has certainly paired up various band members in her imagination.
While Samurai Captive isn't strictly m/m it has a good share of hot, rough samurai smexing going on because I had to do it.
Seriously, I had. To. Do. It.
Two of my very favorite Japanese actors have appeared in a number of films together going back to 1982. The on screen chemistry between these guys is phenomenal and yet in the movies I've seen there's been nothing of an intentional yaoi nature, but...
...There should be!
There have been looks between their various film characters.
You know those looks, they're the ones that make a writer's imagination go into overdrive and wonder "Now what if...."
Then again maybe it's not so unusual for a yaoi fan.
I'm sure I'm not alone in seeing m/m pairings in all sorts of situations whether they're in a film or TV show or book. Louis & Lestat--definitely a couple. Spike & Angel--you know they did the deed at least once. And let's face it, any J-rock fangirl worth her salt has certainly paired up various band members in her imagination.
While Samurai Captive isn't strictly m/m it has a good share of hot, rough samurai smexing going on because I had to do it.
Seriously, I had. To. Do. It.
Two of my very favorite Japanese actors have appeared in a number of films together going back to 1982. The on screen chemistry between these guys is phenomenal and yet in the movies I've seen there's been nothing of an intentional yaoi nature, but...
...There should be!
There have been looks between their various film characters.
You know those looks, they're the ones that make a writer's imagination go into overdrive and wonder "Now what if...."
New release: The Good Thief
The Good Thiefby James Buchanan
$5.95
192 pages / 77000 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-249-2, 1-60370-249-0
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc
Buy Link:http://www.torquerebooks.com/zencart/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=775
Working construction provides Caesar with a great way to cover up his realjob; stealing whatever he can get his hands on. Which is why the guy he hasa fling with could be really bad for business. Nate is a cop, and Caesar worries that he might be tempting fate if he sees Nate again, even if hewants to.
When Caesar discovers something far worse than some petty thievery on one ofhis jobs, though, he knows he has to report it to Nate, and the two of themtry to find a way to keep Caesar safe until he can testify, even as thesparks fly between them. Can Nate protect Caesar and teach him that thereare ways to be a good guy as well as a thief?
Review
Alexa Snow, author of Sleeping Stone and Clear Cut, writes:
When Caesar's brother drags him to a Hollywood hills party in the hopes of netting him a job, Caesar doesn't expect much. He overhears an argument between an incredibly hot guy and who he assumes is the hot guy's girlfriend. Instead, he discovers that the 'girlfriend' is a sister; evenbetter, a sister who's more than happy to help her brother Nate meet someone new. Nate and Caesar have both had too much to drink, and they go back to Nate's place for a round of very hot sex, then collapse for the night.
In the morning, hungover, Caesar makes a startling discovery -- Nate is a cop. Which wouldn't matter so much, except that Caesar's a thief with arrest and conviction records a mile long.
Life being what it is, it doesn't take long for Nate to find out about Caesar's past, but somehow they can't seem to stay away from each other. When Caesar accidentally finds evidence of horrific crimes being committed,his first instinct is to go to Nate for help, an act which kicks off a chain of events even more complicated than either of them could have imagined...and puts both their lives in jeopardy.
This story is a fascinating one; the plot contains enough twists and turnsto satisfy the most jaded reader. The characters are interesting and believable, crafted with care. There's also a subtle undercurrent of humor running through the book, as well as a well-balanced collection of sex scenes that are hot and in-character. Contemporary and compelling! Very much recommended.
There's another character that doesn't get mentioned btw. This little guy, the inspiration for Ponchito, Caesar's dog.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
First Lines
In theory I am working on three different stories right now. Here are their first lines, please share your own :)
Xeras had the brining barrel between his knees, and positioned the bung over the hole on the top. (Lover of Ghosts)
“Denizens of Gambit show distinct founder effects both in terms of measurable genetic compliments and deep-seated behavioral tendencies,” the U.P. anthologist droned from the lecturn. (The Game)
Murl hung from the windowsill, with the fingertips of one hand. (untitled)
...and from the last story I submitted:
“If you want to keep your sister out of my bedchamber you will do this small thing for me,” Old Man Jeryl said. (Wolfkin)
Edited to add: that one now contracted to Samhain :) :) :)
Xeras had the brining barrel between his knees, and positioned the bung over the hole on the top. (Lover of Ghosts)
“Denizens of Gambit show distinct founder effects both in terms of measurable genetic compliments and deep-seated behavioral tendencies,” the U.P. anthologist droned from the lecturn. (The Game)
Murl hung from the windowsill, with the fingertips of one hand. (untitled)
...and from the last story I submitted:
“If you want to keep your sister out of my bedchamber you will do this small thing for me,” Old Man Jeryl said. (Wolfkin)
Edited to add: that one now contracted to Samhain :) :) :)
Sunday, January 6, 2008
What's in a name?
Names in romance novels are always the first indication of whether or not I'm even going to open the book. I always check the back cover to see what the heroes' names are (or heroines, as the case may be). If the names don't immediately speak to me, the book goes back on the shelf.
This is not to say, of course, that there AREN'T masculine, sexy men out there named Horace or Norman. I just prefer my romance novel heroes to have names that pack a punch and create an instant picture of sex in my mind: Logan. Tyler. Jake. I seem to gravitate toward certain linguistic patterns in male names, both when I'm writing and when I'm reading. I like names that begin with the letters C or T. I like names that end with the letter N (Ian, Jason, Evan).
So tell me. What's in a name for you?
This is not to say, of course, that there AREN'T masculine, sexy men out there named Horace or Norman. I just prefer my romance novel heroes to have names that pack a punch and create an instant picture of sex in my mind: Logan. Tyler. Jake. I seem to gravitate toward certain linguistic patterns in male names, both when I'm writing and when I'm reading. I like names that begin with the letters C or T. I like names that end with the letter N (Ian, Jason, Evan).
So tell me. What's in a name for you?
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Meet Triarius...
Spiked is a body modification anthology coming out next Wednesday from Torquere Press. My novella, "Beneath the Mask", is one of four novellas that make up the antho.
Out of all the men I've written, Triarius is one of my all-time favorites. He's my beloved anti-hero: cruel, ruthless, and downright sex on legs, if you ask me. But...don't take MY word for it. Just ask Lance Shaw, the reporter who managed to get an interview with one of the most dangerous vampires in the world.
***
"Dio knows we exist, Mr. Shaw. The Romanorum knows. At this point, I would daresay the entire world knows. The fact remains, however, that they cannot find the worst of us. And by that, I mean those of us who actively kill humans."
Fuck. I was in over my head. What was I thinking? Here I was, in some nondescript ghost town in the middle of nowhere England, with a man -- a creature -- who could easily kill me. And no one would ever know. Curiosity, however, is a strong influence.
"I know the Brotherhood is underground -- both figuratively and literally, and no, I won't ask where. I am curious, though, as to why the Romanorum can't find you. Can't every vampire -- even a rogue -- trace his or her blood back to the sire?"
"Not all of us are rogues," he said. "It is true that I myself am, by Romanorum standards, but you forget that the oldest of us did not take the formulas required to make that distinction. It is by name alone that I am known for who I am, not by any taint to my aura or soul."
"So... there are those who are not rogues within the Brotherhood?"
"Yes. The Brotherhood is not based on killing humans. We are gods, Mr. Shaw. Descended from gods, created by them. Human are cattle, put upon this earth for us to use as we see fit."
"The Romanorum would have something to say about that," I said quietly.
"You are not writing. Is my tale that uninteresting?"
I blinked down at the paper. A large stain spread out from where the tip of my pen rested, but there were no words. What was I supposed to say, how was I going to write any of this into a news story? I stared at the blotch of ink and wondered why I'd even asked for this meeting.
"Perhaps you were curious, more for your own sake than that of your readers."
"You can read minds."
"I can."
I figured the best step would be to find out more about the man behind it all. "What else can you do?"
Triarius chuckled, still facing away from me. "Much. More than you could ever begin to explain to your readers, Mr. Shaw."
It occurred to me then that I had no idea what this man even looked like. He was here when I'd arrived, cloaked in shadows. "What do you look like?"
"Another question for your story?"
"No." For me...
Triarius turned and my heart nearly stopped. Light glinted off of something silver on the right side of his face. Like some real-life twist on the Phantom, Triarius had a silver mask -- or at least half of one -- covering the upper right side of his face. There was a hole for him to see out of, and the mask stopped just an inch or so above his mouth, and then tapered off to the side. The eye peering through the hole in the mask was milky white, almost glassy. His other was steel blue. His lips curled into a twisted smile that said he knew exactly what I was thinking.
"I was disfigured long before my turning. A bit of sparring gone wrong, you could say."
I could tell there was more to it, but he didn't seem inclined to elaborate. He stepped away from the window and closer to the table where I sat. The shadows seemed to move with him, somehow, wrapping around his body like a cloak. I knew some vampires were able to control the shadows. I'd even been witness to the Prince of London toying with them a time or two. These shadows were much different, though -- thicker, consuming. Like Triarius, they seemed to draw in the light, engulfing it until there was nothing left. I wanted to say this man was evil, but even that felt inadequate for what I saw in his eyes. There was power behind them, more than I think anyone ever realized, but there was something darker. I knew he was a rogue -- he'd said so himself. This went beyond being a rogue. It wasn't blood lust that fueled him. It was the worst kind of power imaginable: unspoken, quiet, calculating.
Out of all the men I've written, Triarius is one of my all-time favorites. He's my beloved anti-hero: cruel, ruthless, and downright sex on legs, if you ask me. But...don't take MY word for it. Just ask Lance Shaw, the reporter who managed to get an interview with one of the most dangerous vampires in the world.
***
"Dio knows we exist, Mr. Shaw. The Romanorum knows. At this point, I would daresay the entire world knows. The fact remains, however, that they cannot find the worst of us. And by that, I mean those of us who actively kill humans."
Fuck. I was in over my head. What was I thinking? Here I was, in some nondescript ghost town in the middle of nowhere England, with a man -- a creature -- who could easily kill me. And no one would ever know. Curiosity, however, is a strong influence.
"I know the Brotherhood is underground -- both figuratively and literally, and no, I won't ask where. I am curious, though, as to why the Romanorum can't find you. Can't every vampire -- even a rogue -- trace his or her blood back to the sire?"
"Not all of us are rogues," he said. "It is true that I myself am, by Romanorum standards, but you forget that the oldest of us did not take the formulas required to make that distinction. It is by name alone that I am known for who I am, not by any taint to my aura or soul."
"So... there are those who are not rogues within the Brotherhood?"
"Yes. The Brotherhood is not based on killing humans. We are gods, Mr. Shaw. Descended from gods, created by them. Human are cattle, put upon this earth for us to use as we see fit."
"The Romanorum would have something to say about that," I said quietly.
"You are not writing. Is my tale that uninteresting?"
I blinked down at the paper. A large stain spread out from where the tip of my pen rested, but there were no words. What was I supposed to say, how was I going to write any of this into a news story? I stared at the blotch of ink and wondered why I'd even asked for this meeting.
"Perhaps you were curious, more for your own sake than that of your readers."
"You can read minds."
"I can."
I figured the best step would be to find out more about the man behind it all. "What else can you do?"
Triarius chuckled, still facing away from me. "Much. More than you could ever begin to explain to your readers, Mr. Shaw."
It occurred to me then that I had no idea what this man even looked like. He was here when I'd arrived, cloaked in shadows. "What do you look like?"
"Another question for your story?"
"No." For me...
Triarius turned and my heart nearly stopped. Light glinted off of something silver on the right side of his face. Like some real-life twist on the Phantom, Triarius had a silver mask -- or at least half of one -- covering the upper right side of his face. There was a hole for him to see out of, and the mask stopped just an inch or so above his mouth, and then tapered off to the side. The eye peering through the hole in the mask was milky white, almost glassy. His other was steel blue. His lips curled into a twisted smile that said he knew exactly what I was thinking.
"I was disfigured long before my turning. A bit of sparring gone wrong, you could say."
I could tell there was more to it, but he didn't seem inclined to elaborate. He stepped away from the window and closer to the table where I sat. The shadows seemed to move with him, somehow, wrapping around his body like a cloak. I knew some vampires were able to control the shadows. I'd even been witness to the Prince of London toying with them a time or two. These shadows were much different, though -- thicker, consuming. Like Triarius, they seemed to draw in the light, engulfing it until there was nothing left. I wanted to say this man was evil, but even that felt inadequate for what I saw in his eyes. There was power behind them, more than I think anyone ever realized, but there was something darker. I knew he was a rogue -- he'd said so himself. This went beyond being a rogue. It wasn't blood lust that fueled him. It was the worst kind of power imaginable: unspoken, quiet, calculating.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Starting the year off write
FYI, I misspelled that on purpose.
This time last year, I was hard at work on the story that would become The Powers of Love and go on to land me a publishing contract with Amber Quill Press. I know this because, being compulsively anal about things like this, I kept a log throughout all of 2007 that listed not only how many words I wrote per day, but also the writing "highlights" of the year ~ publications, acceptance, submissions, and the like.
For the record I wrote a whopping 322,588 words in 2007.
Sounds like a lot, doesn't it? And I have a lot to show for it, granted. But there were days when the word count was a big, fat zero, when I couldn't even motivate myself to turn on the computer, let alone type anything.
Still, it is an impressive figure. I wonder if I'll beat that this time next year? I've already written more these first two days than I did this same time last year. Funnily enough, my current WIP stars the same two characters from The Powers of Love, and this story is also slated for release by Amber Quill. What comes around goes around, they say.
Why not keep a log of how much you write each day? How many words do you think you can do in a span of 365 days? 366, really, since this is a leap year. Go ahead. Keep count. You might surprise yourself.
This time last year, I was hard at work on the story that would become The Powers of Love and go on to land me a publishing contract with Amber Quill Press. I know this because, being compulsively anal about things like this, I kept a log throughout all of 2007 that listed not only how many words I wrote per day, but also the writing "highlights" of the year ~ publications, acceptance, submissions, and the like.
For the record I wrote a whopping 322,588 words in 2007.
Sounds like a lot, doesn't it? And I have a lot to show for it, granted. But there were days when the word count was a big, fat zero, when I couldn't even motivate myself to turn on the computer, let alone type anything.
Still, it is an impressive figure. I wonder if I'll beat that this time next year? I've already written more these first two days than I did this same time last year. Funnily enough, my current WIP stars the same two characters from The Powers of Love, and this story is also slated for release by Amber Quill. What comes around goes around, they say.
Why not keep a log of how much you write each day? How many words do you think you can do in a span of 365 days? 366, really, since this is a leap year. Go ahead. Keep count. You might surprise yourself.
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