Happy summer! I know some people really hate this season, but it's my favorite. I will be relentlessly cheerful as long as the days are long and the weather hot.

The big news in my part of town these days is the opening of Cars Land at California Adventure park in the Disneyland resort. Record number of visitors, et cetera. I did get a chance to visit, although I did not make the unfortunate choice to camp out at Disneyland the night before it opened. Because no. I don't sleep on sidewalks, even in the Happiest Place on Earth.

Anyway, with all the Disney hullabaloo up in here, I took some time this weekend to reread the novel I co-wrote with the lovely Kiernan Kelly. If you've ever visited a theme park and had the vaguest wondering of what goes on behind the scenes (and by this, of course I mean fraternizing between employees), give this book a try. Kiernan and I are each within spitting distance of Disney parks on our respective coasts, so we had a grand time writing this together.


Check out Happy World here. It's the horniest place on earth.

In Which I Beat a Metaphor to Death But Am So Grateful to My Readers

I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I love quoting movies. There are often lines that completely sum up the precise emotional tone of a situation and if you say the line to someone else who has seen the movie, they know the exact feeling you’re trying to convey in a few brief words:  shared cultural shorthand. Plus, it’s usually funny. In my family, many of us can have entire conversations of movie-line dialogue, from something as recent as The Avengers to classics like Casablanca. (Yvonne, I love you but he pays me.)

Every day during the past year during some course of the day at my non-writing job, my brain has recited this quote. It’s from The Mummy, the one with Brendan Fraser. As they are desperately trying to evade a monstrous evil sand cloud in a decrepit biplane, Fraser’s character quips to the pilot, “Hey, Winston, pedal faster.” To me, it was a perfect summary of the idea that disaster is imminent and the possibility of avoiding it as unlikely as a sudden burst of speed from the original Wright Brothers’ plane.  

The evil monster sand cloud at my work has been the threat of the agency closing, or of it becoming so dangerous to work with the students suddenly thrown out of all the state-closed detention facilities that I left in pieces. The pedaling faster was my writing pace. Every day I tried to model Fraser’s wry humor as I thought, “Pedal faster,” my pedaling being more books written to provide more space between me and that looming disaster. But no matter how scary that sand cloud got, my brain didn’t appear to listen to my urges.

In the movie, the sand cloud overtakes them. It overtook me too. I realized I couldn’t work as a corrections officer when I only have the skills of a teacher. I feel horrible about being able to be one of the ones to walk away after the sand cloud had roughed me up and spit me out. I’ve left colleagues still pedaling away as the grit and grind scours their sanity and souls.  But I’m profoundly grateful to the readers who have made it possible for me to finally achieve my life-long dream of being a full-time writer.

Now that I’m not trying to outrun an evil mummy’s  sandstorm, the pages and words come faster. I’m not paralyzed by looking over my shoulder, but excited about what’s ahead of me. I was already working part time, so it’s not as if I’ve discovered that many more hours in the day. And the idea of my income being completely unpredictable should be a lot scarier than that sand cloud that I could at least see coming.

But it isn’t. I still love the pressure of deadlines, whether or not they are self imposed. But the thing I thought would overtake me did, and just like O’Connell, I managed to accept my losses and find a new way to reach my goals.

All I know is that I’m happy, I’m grateful and it’s much easier to pedal faster when there isn’t sand in your gears.

Summer Plans

A fun time was had over on FB for Torquere's social media contest. I enjoyed sharing a few behind-the-scenes facts about Rose & Thorn, and I hope everyone who popped over to take a look and participate had fun, too.

Summer hasn't arrived here yet, and really I'm looking forward to it this year. (Possibly a first for me.) We've not had much of summer the past two years, and while I don't care for it to get over 80 degrees, it'd be nice to be warm and sweater-free for a couple of weeks. Plus, I have three summer weddings to attend this year. I wouldn't want the happy couples to get rained on.

My own summer plans are not so life-changing, but I'm still super excited about them. The hubby and I and two good friends are going to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival next month! I haven't been in six years, and I can't wait! We're seeing Henry V (Who doesn't love HV, right?), a new show called Medea, Macbeth, Cinderella, and my second-favourite of the Bard's plays and arguably the slashiest of his works, Troilus & Cressida. Just ignore the title characters; they're both a bit irritating. For me, this show is all about Achilles and Patroclus. Which reminds me, I must pick up a copy of The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. Have you heard about this book? She won the 2012 Orange Prize for Fiction for it, and it's about the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus. I'm so jazzed to read it! Perhaps I should take it with me to read in Ashland. Come on summer!

The feel of summer

Summer is here and I’m excited about it. Not only because I have books being released every month of this summer starting this one. My excitement is from the upcoming visit from my family. I get to spend a little of this wonderful summer with my sister and her family. They will be staying with me for a few weeks and I’m looking forward to it. :)

My sister is an avid reader as I am and we have great discussions on books over the phone. Usually in person they get even more fun and better. It’s interesting to see how she feels about books I’ve read and she has. We have similar taste in books but what we take away from the book could be vastly different.

Also her family (hubby and son) they have a wacky sense of humor and have us laughing our butts off all the time. We try to do zingers against each other and that is always fun.

It is shaping up to be a great summer already as I look forward to them coming in July. I’m preparing for their visit cleaning and getting some fun things for us to do. I love the feel of summer.

Talia Carmichael
http://taliacarmichael.com/
Fill Your Cravings
Blog: http://taliacarmichael.com/blog Newsletter:http://groups.yahoo.com/group/taliacarmichael

Buy After the Fall here

Win free ebooks!

There's a social media contest being hosted by Torquere Press on both Facebook and Twitter. Go over and "like" their FB page and then check out "Recent Posts by Others". You'll find posts from Torquere authors there about their latest releases and other titles. (I'd give you the Twitter feed/hashtag/thingamajig, but I don't tweet so I don't know it. I'm sure any tweeters out there can figure it out.) Now here's the best part: there are free ebooks to be won! I quote the Torquere page, "Make sure you are checking the Recent Posts by Others box for posts from your favorite authors about book giveaways. You must like and/or comment on their post to be entered to win." It's that simple. I'll be giving away a copy of my latest, Rose & Thorn, through the contest. AND, if my own FB page, Maia Strong, Author (which I am admittedly dismal about promoting) reaches 100 likes by the end of the contest, I'll give away a second copy. The contest runs through the 15th of this month and lots of authors will be participating. Stop on by and check it out!

ETA: Link to my FB fixed now.

Recommended Read

I don't have much to talk about right now, so I thought I would use this weeks post to share a book I just finished reading and particularly enjoyed. If you like futuristic-type books, you should give it a try. 

It’s a different world. Space has been colonized, the wealthy fly to work rather than drive, and slavery is legal.

Jason’s family has been ripped apart by tragedy. The only way he can save the ones left is to offer himself up as a bondmate. The more he’s willing to give, the higher the price he can command. And Jason is willing to give a lot.

Devin is wealthy and heartbroken after the wife he adored walked out on him. He isn’t looking for love. All he wants is a relationship he can control. Buying a bondmate seems like the perfect solution.

Yet when he purchases Jason’s contract, Devin gets more than he bargained for.

You can buy it here:

 http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B007QERCAO/ref=kinw_myk_ro_title

 

Resolving Resolutions

Six months ago, I decided to bring back my monthly resolutions… and then promptly forgot about them. It’s been a hectic six months, and much of that is due to the first of the three resolutions. Not only did I get the story submitted, but it has also been accepted, edited, and released. Huzzah!

Now that Hounded By Love has hit the electronic shelves, I have the time to revisit some old and new goals. The other two resolutions from January revolved around being healthy. It took a couple of extra months, but I’m eating a lot healthier, and not only have I not given up on the treadmill, but I’ve embraced it.

The best part of finally coming back to those goals is that I finally lost the weight I’d gained after breaking my foot. I don’t miss the take-out nights, and I’m starting to crave the raw vegetables I’ve been snacking on, so the only torture is going to the grocery store twice as often.

So what’s kind of goals should I strive for over the next few months?

I’ve agreed to pick up a dropped prompt for the GoodReads M/M Romance group’s Love is Always Write event, so there’s goal one. With the exception of the LiAW freebie, I won’t let myself work on anything else until I get the untitled sequel to Man Whore finished. I’m estimating about another 20k words to reach the end. It shouldn’t be taking this long, and I really want this one off my plate so I can move on to the rest of the series.

Lastly, my health goal this month will be low-impact activities and strength training. I’ve been struggling with muscle pain, and in order to let things heal I need to back off on the running program for a short while. It’ll be difficult to combine finishing a book I’ve struggled with and backing off on running, but it’s something I must do, and so I will find a way to do it.

Who’s up for some change? What goals do you have for the next couple of months?

Now Available at:

Loose Id

Amazon

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Some gave all

Hello, Slashers! Memorial Day weekend here in the States, which usually means barbecues and a day off work. Since I have Monday off and am, in fact, attending a barbecue, that's exactly what it means for me. :D Well, and the fact that I am indebted to the military men and women who gave their lives for my freedom. I hope everyone remembers that while drinking their beer and scarfing their burgers.

My life has recently been pleasantly disrupted by the arrival of two kittens. I lost my 15 year old kitty two years ago, and his 17 year old sister just passed this January. I was a cat person without a cat for the first time in nearly two decades. Then, four weeks ago, Johnny Ringo and Calamity Jane were at an adoption fair and I fell in love. Their names used to be something like Broadway and Lotus and I was like huh? How do shelters come up with these names? These two are clearly meant to be named Ringo and Calamity.

So I have kittens, and although I try as hard as I can, I can't read their thoughts like my friend Alex Myers can in Keeping Karma and Teaching Topaz. Man, if there ever was a talent I wished to have, it would be that one. If you don't know Alex, Dylan, or Karma, go check them out. Cute boys and cute animals.

Have a lovely holiday weekend if you're stateside, and a lovely non-holiday if you're not. Remember those who gave their lives while serving.

Greetings from Chicago

I'm here in the windy city for the conference on Alternative Sexuality. I, and several other authors, will be discussing the mainstreaming of BDSM in romance and the positive and negative issues that go along with that.

Tres amusing, no?

I like to do these academic panels from time to time. It's interesting to see what the rest of the world thinks of what we do. Generally, no matter what the academic audience, they tend to be engaged and positive about the panels. My guess is that they're a welcome break from the standard stock -- I know as an attorney, when there are either role play or visits from the bench with war stories (anything outside of here's the five things you need to know about this minute area of law you will never put to practical use panels) are always far more entertaining and thought provoking.

Tonight I'm going to a reading by several of the Lambda finalists.

Of course the side benefit of being in Chicago right now: International Mr. Leather is happening this weekend. Tight butts, chaps, boots. God the eye candy.  A couple of us will be heading there on Sat. to see the sights and engage our kink.

A Tense Situation

I'm having a strange time with my latest manuscript. Some of you might remember Rhys and Isaac from my m/m/f short story Play Music, Play Magic that came out a while back in the anthology I Put a Spell on You. Well, I've been wondering about the boys' origin story since I wrote that, and now I'm starting to drag it out of them. (They're both a bit closed-mouthed on the  matter, and as I'm writing I'm finding out why. *eep!*) Here's the weird part: they're both talking to me in first person. Okay, that's only half of the weird. The other half, and if you'll pardon the mathematical impossibility, the bigger half, is that they're both telling me their story in present tense. WTF, right? I mean, this is a trend I've noticed lately in the YA books I've read. There's a delightful immediacy to first person, present tense that I think maybe appeals to the modern young adult reader. But for erotic romance it seems a little, well, bizarre. Am I simply old-fashioned and out of touch? Do readers dig that sort of thing? Do they even care what tense a book is written in? Does it all depend? I'd love to hear what you think, because it's tripping me out, frankly, but at the same time I don't want to get to the end and then have to edit it all over into past tense.

New Book: The Chimera Affair

My new book is out today from Loose Id!

When young Sebastian Brambani meets a sexy and exciting older man, he’s easily seduced. But for spy Kyle Grant, it’s all business—Sebastian is simply a pawn in Kyle’s mission to acquire a dangerous chemical weapon from Sebastian’s criminal father. Kyle’s life is his work for a shadowy international agency protecting the world from evil, and he can’t worry about what will happen to Sebastian when the job is done.

Sebastian’s unwitting role in Kyle’s plan is the last straw for his ruthless father, who has been embarrassed by his gay son for the last time. But when Kyle discovers Sebastian could be the key to finding the deadly Chimera, he rescues him from a hired hitman and fights to keep him alive. Can a hardened spy and naïve college student take down a criminal kingpin, stay one step ahead of the killers on their trail—and fight the scorching attraction between them?

Read an Excerpt

As he stepped out of the car, Sebastian hugged his arms to his body tightly, shivering in the cold as the wet snow fell. He hurried toward the porch, but Kyle yanked him back. “Don’t move.”

Sebastian stayed put as Kyle circled the cabin, keen eyes searching. When he disappeared around the back, Sebastian peered at the thick forest surrounding them. His leather shoes weren’t meant for running—let alone running in the Alps. Besides, Kyle had proven he was faster.

A moment later Kyle reappeared. He dropped down and examined under the porch, shining a small but powerful flashlight into the murk. When he seemed satisfied, he climbed the creaky wooden stairs and landed a powerful kick to the front door. After another, it splintered and gave way.

Inside, it hadn’t changed much from Sebastian’s dim childhood memories. The utilitarian, wooden furniture was a marked difference from the opulence Arrigo usually favored. The cabin was a snapshot in time, with an ancient wood-burning stove and no electricity. Kyle lit the lantern sitting on the solid old table and began searching.

Sebastian watched as he methodically explored the room. There was no bedroom, and the bathroom was an outhouse. A double bed sat against the wall in one corner, and when Sebastian sat on it, the springs creaked.

It seemed as if Kyle forgot he was even there as he hunted, and Sebastian wondered if the keys were still in the sedan. Doubtful, and even if they were, he didn’t think he’d be fast enough to get to the car before Kyle caught him. He thought again of Kyle’s hard, strong body pressing him down into the ground. How his mouth had tasted the night before. The jolt of excitement and pleasure when he’d pushed his finger inside Sebastian.

Abruptly he stood and began pacing. Kyle’s attention was now on the wood box beside the stove, where a few pieces of chopped wood remained inside. Sebastian couldn’t imagine his father would have hidden a chemical weapon in there and was about to say as much when Kyle pulled firmly on the box and it slid out, revealing an old metal safe about three feet high.

Sitting back on his heels, Kyle inspected it. He leaned in closely, turning the knob this way and that.

“Can you crack it?” Sebastian asked. The sooner they got the powder, the sooner he could…what? What exactly was he going to do? Kyle had promised to help him, but, realistically, Sebastian knew Kyle was just as likely to put a bullet in his brain the minute he had what he wanted.

“Of course. It’ll take some time. The older safes are actually harder. Fingerprint scanners and other modern gizmos make it much easier.”

“How?” A deeply unpleasant thought occurred. “Do you…cut people’s fingers off?”

At this Kyle smirked. “Only when I have to.”

“That’s really comforting.”

“Most people don’t wipe off the fingerprint scanner. You just need to lift the print from the scanner itself, and you’re in.”

“Good to know.” Sebastian peered out the small front window. The wind had begun howling, and the pane shook slightly. Outside, visibility was poor and getting worse as night settled in. Fantastic.

“Get my bag from the car. Backseat.” Kyle glanced over his shoulder. “I have the keys, so don’t even think about it.”

“If you have the keys, how am I supposed to get in?”

Kyle raised an eyebrow as he pulled the keys from his pocket and pressed a button. Sebastian could hear the faint chirp as the car unlocked. “Hurry up.”

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian muttered under his breath.

Outside he gasped at how much colder it was now that night had fallen. Slipping in the wet snow and mud, he rushed to the car and flung open the back door. A brown duffel bag sat on the seat as promised. Sebastian grabbed it and hurried back to the cabin.

He dropped the bag by Kyle and eyed the stove. “Can we start a fire?”

“No. This won’t take long.”

Sebastian wrapped his arms around himself and grumbled as he resumed pacing. “At least you have a jacket.”

Apparently ignoring him, Kyle pulled out a leather case from his duffel. He unzipped it and removed some kind of metal tool. “Any guesses as to what the combination might be?”

“How many numbers are there?”

“With this make and model, should be five.”

Sebastian pondered. Should he really try to help Kyle break into the safe? Perhaps if his father’s men showed up, he could reason with them. He thought of the cold, dark eyes of the man in the garage and sighed. Just get this over with. “Try fifty-two, sixteen, thirty-eight, seven, twenty-five.”

Kyle turned the dial, alternating left and right. He turned the handle, but the safe remained locked. “Nope. Try again.”

“I don’t know. Maybe a different combination of those numbers. They’re all to do with my nonna. This is her place, so he would probably have been thinking of her when he set the combination. Or he was thinking of something else entirely. I don’t know.”

Kyle tried a few more iterations of the numbers before reaching for another tool. He worked silently, head close to the metal door of the safe as he listened with something that looked like a modified stethoscope. After ten minutes of pacing, Sebastian felt like he had to break the unnerving quiet.

“So, how do I know you’re really a spy and not just some mercenary?”

“I’m really a spy,” Kyle said as he turned the dial on the safe.

Sebastian studied him. Kyle seemed like he was telling the truth, but then so had Steven. “You got lucky with the guard monitoring the cameras. Father said he was watching football. If he’d been doing his job, they would have caught you.”

“It wasn’t luck. The man’s a huge AC Milan fan. Our contact made sure he was working the cameras that night. And I’m fast. It might have been closer, but they wouldn’t have caught me.”

A spy would have contacts who could arrange things like that, wouldn’t he? At least that’s how it worked in Bond films. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.” Sebastian shivered. “It’s freezing. Hurry up.”

“Well, shut up and let me concentrate. I only have one number left.”

“They’re always a lot faster in the movies.” Sebastian stalked over to the stove and opened the door. As he tossed a log inside, Kyle was suddenly there, whipping him around, fingers digging into Sebastian’s arm.

He towered over Sebastian. “I said no fire. I’m in charge, remember?”

“Vaffanculo. Fuck you.” Sebastian tugged his arm free. He knew he was being childish, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Yes, you do. Now get a blanket, sit down, and shut up.”

Sebastian stood his ground, toe-to-toe with Kyle. “No. Maybe I’ll take my chances with my father and his men after all. Anything would be better than being with you.”

Kyle’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. “Sit. Down.”

“Fuck. You.” All the anger and fear and tension of the day boiled over, and Sebastian shoved against Kyle’s chest.

A moment later he was tumbling backward, landing on the squeaky bed with Kyle on top of him. Kyle stared down, his gaze dangerous, Sebastian’s wrists in his hands. “Are you done?”

They were both breathing heavily, and as Sebastian struggled to free himself, he only succeeded in rubbing against Kyle. “Go to hell.” As punctuation he spit into Kyle’s face, his saliva spraying Kyle’s cheek.

For a long moment, Kyle was completely still, and a fresh, icy tendril of fear uncoiled in Sebastian’s gut. Too far. Then Kyle dove at him, tongue driving inside as Sebastian gasped. His body responded immediately as Kyle mastered his mouth, leaving him breathless.

Suddenly Kyle tore away and rolled off the bed, shoving Sebastian to the floor. Sebastian kicked and punched at him. “Get off me!”

Kyle ignored him as he lunged at the table, dousing the lantern and plunging the cabin into darkness as the first bullets shattered the window.

Read more in The Chimera Affair!

Go Ask Alice

One of the things people who vote for such homophobic amendments as the one that passed in NC often say they're doing it "for the children." I'm here to tell you, it does affect them, but probably not the way those bigots are hoping it will.

My young nieces and nephew were traveling with my parents when a break up song played on the radio and the girls sang along. Zach, six, demanded to know what the song was about.

"It's about a girl who broke up with her boyfriend and she misses him and wants him back," explained his grandmother.

With a dreamy sigh, Ellie, four, said, "I miss my girlfriend." Zach, always pedantic said, "No, no. You're a girl. You can't have a girlfriend. You have to have a boyfriend."

The oldest at eight, Alice said with long-suffering wisdom, "Well, in New York, she can have a girlfriend, but not in Virginia."

Even three years ago, Alice was already a veteran of the culture wars. When she heard about the plans in her state of Virginia (She may have been a tender six at the time. We don't know how she finds this stuff out, but we suspect she surfed the web in the wee hours of the morning.) to strip her aunts of every form of attachment to each other we'd created, health care proxy, life insurance, etc., she was devastated at the thought that her aunts would be "illegal" in her home state. Not only would we be unable to visit her, she reasoned, but we would be taking a huge risk just driving through on our way to someplace else. Poor kid, this really plagued her. The worries kept her up at night. Oh yes, "think of the children."

Alice told her mom she wanted to work against the passage of the law, against the amendment to "make her aunts illegal." She went to meetings. None of this was created or encouraged by the adults in her world. She just couldn't handle the idea that people would be so mean. Despite the efforts of other fair-minded people, Virginia continues to be well, not so much for lovers outside the margins of approved, church sanctioned reproductive ones.

Now at eleven, Alice understands that while the states might seek to limit the rights of her aunts and other loving committed couples, the tide is turning. She worries about our rights, but not that we are "illegal." In fact, the spark of activism, I'm sad to say, seems to have been smothered under cynicism. She now prefers to get her news from Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart. If the people so intent on "protecting children" would talk to Alice, maybe they'd see that all their hatred and fear is doing is creating a generation that will mock their pathetic bigotry with a well-timed eye-roll and a "Seriously?"

The only thing they really want to save is their tiny narrow view of the world. Go ask Alice to explain it to you, haters.

Introducing Madison Aubrielle

As many of you probably know, I've been a little busy the last few months. Being pregnant has been a huge blessing and a bit of a hindrance when it came to keeping up with all my online responsibilities. However, that is now a thing of the past. I'm thrilled to share that my little girl, Madison Aubrielle, was born on April 24th. She weighed 9.96 pounds and was 21.5 inches long. It kind of blows my mind that she'll be two weeks old tomorrow. 

Here's a couple of photos for you guys!

Hounded By Love

Oh, how exciting, Keira and I share a release date with Loose Id! Valerie did a great job on the cover art for The Chimera Affair, and that title definitely has my interest. Congrats, Keira!

My newest release, Hounded By Love, is also set to come out on May 15th. Enjoy an excerpt below the April Martinez cover art.

Chapter One Excerpt

The music pulsed through the Hound’s veins as hundreds of hands reached up in the air, some waving back and forth, others pumping fists, all over heads nodding to the beat with lips either chanting lyrics or screaming, squealing, and hooting satisfaction and encouragement. The Hound wailed into the microphone one last time as the music crashed to a close around him. The stage lights, on cue, swung from him and the band to bathe the crowd in long strokes of disorienting light and darkness. Warm, sweaty bodies surged against the stage with adulating expressions on upturned, pretty faces.

The Hound crouched at the edge of the stage, shaking hands and blowing kisses. Adrenaline raced through his system. He flew on its high, and, as with every performance, he felt like he’d never touch down again. Behind him, his band toyed with instruments, chords shooting out of huge black speakers to dive and swoop over the crowd, combating their own noise while punctuating applause and teasing the senses. They waited for him, the other musicians. The band called themselves Hecate’s Hounds, but he was the Hound, their hound, the face, the voice, and the irresistible magnet for the screaming fans. And the Hound loved every minute of it.

He squeezed a hand and drew a beautiful redheaded woman closer. He leaned in, staring into her bright green eyes, but only after taking a long stare deep into her damp, plump cleavage. “Party with me,” he said with a husky, show-worn voice.

His proposition rang out over the speakers. The crowd approved. Screams rose, crested, and waved away as the audience shouted themselves hoarse. The redhead nodded, and the Hound kissed her hand, letting his gaze fall over her breasts once more before he backed away.

He lifted the microphone to his lips and shouted, “Thank you!” He raised a hand. “What a great crowd of sexy, sexy people!” They answered louder than before. “Hush…” He paused. They simmered but didn’t quiet. “Hush,” he whispered again. They cheered and screeched, but the Hound didn’t really want the silence he requested. The celebration of joy undulating through the audience buoyed his mood like a drug. They were his addiction. He smiled. They squealed. He lifted a hand. They shouted. He shook his head and opened his mouth, prepared to speak over the noise, because he’d never expect them to wait quietly for him to continue. “Because you’ve been so wonderful.” He paused, flashing a wide, wicked grin. “We have one more song. Just. For. You!”

The band blasted into a high-energy song with a quick, deep bass beat and a hypnotizing rhythm. The Hound forgot about the redhead and did the one thing he could always rely on to set his soul ablaze. He sang.

* * * *

The long hallway between the drop-off behind the stage and the dressing room had been built with a low ceiling and close walls, made narrower with fans packed in along both sides, all waiting and hoping to be picked by the band to attend their aftershow party. Hecate’s Hounds had a reputation, and they rarely failed to live up to the rumors.

Sebastian Korba, Bas to his friends and the Hound to his fans, led the procession through the throng. He paused in front of a short young woman in a lime-green minidress and black boots sporting buckles that matched the thick black dog collar around her neck. Her bleached-blonde hair, piled high on her head, trickled down in skinny tresses to frame her flushed face. Her wide-eyed gaze openly ravished Bas as he paused in front of her. He raised a hand and brushed his thumb down her cheek and along her full pink lips. “Wanna party?” he asked in a deep, gravelly stage whisper.

She bit her lower lip, her excitement leaking through in a soft, muffled squeal. She nodded her head vehemently. “Oh yes,” she said. She turned her head to grin at her friend, who managed to look both happy and disappointed.

Bas held out a hand. The blonde took it and asked, “Can I bring Callie?”

Bas glanced back at his band. Each member, including Phee, the one woman in the band, stood by chatting with fans and choosing companions for the evening. Phee had her hand on the thin chest of a pretty young man with heavy eyeliner and blackened lips. Another lovely choice. Bas wondered how he’d walked right past the guy, who was usually his type when he ached for a sexy mouth to relieve his postshow adrenaline rush.

“Who’s Callie?” Bas asked, trying to remember if he’d met a Callie recently. The guy was cute, but Phee had her bright pink claws in him now, and Bas found he didn’t much care that she did.

“My friend, silly.” Bas looked at the blonde smiling up at him and realized he didn’t know her name. He couldn’t remember the last girl either. Or that hot androgynous guy in riot boots and mesh sleeves who’d blown his mind blowing his—

The girl shook his arm, snapping him out of that nameless memory. “So…you, me, and Callie?” She lifted her hand, her fingers intertwined with her friend’s. Both girls wore black leather bands around their wrists, and black stringy bracelets slid over them as they moved. A package deal. A common fantasy of his, and yet his high from the stage faded as he contemplated the two girls before him.

Bas snorted and dropped her hand. “Never mind,” he said and started toward the dressing room door.

“Okay,” she shouted after him. “Just me.” He barely heard her words as they sank past the jumbled memories of faces, all blending together into sweat and sex. “Hey, what the heck! Aren’t you the dog?”

“The Hound,” he muttered under his breath. He slammed the dressing room door hard enough for the sound to reverberate through the small space despite the cacophony of screams, shouted words, and offers of endless pleasures just outside. He stalked into the middle of the room, looking for something to hit, throw, or otherwise vent his frustration on. The only thing within reach was Daisy, her tail curled around her legs as she watched him with her soft dark eyes. He would never hurt her.

“Don’t give me that look,” he told her, and turned his back to his best friend. Hound eyes could appear so full of pity, and Bas certainly felt pitiful tonight. He hadn’t started out to become the dog his nickname implied. It was, after all, just a nickname, and only because of the band’s name. Yet he’d never complained about the attention, the infatuation, the obsession. He’d reveled in it. The scantily clad women, the pretty young men, the constant drinking, fucking, and singing had all come together so well. Too well. Yet now Bas sneered at nothing and no one, disgusted with the thoughts barking for attention in his mind; being nothing but a dog meant nothing.

He flopped down beside Daisy and aimlessly stroked her long, soft ears. “If I have to be a dog, I’d rather be you, girl.” Daisy yawned and stretched before settling down with her head resting on his thigh. He smiled and cooed softly to her. “You’re loyal and loving…nothing like me. Why do they call male sluts dogs anyway?” 

* * * *

Hounded By Love will be released by Loose Id on May 15th. 

http://www.loose-id.com/Hounded-by-Love.aspx

http://piaveleno.com

New Cover!

And a new book to go along with it, of course. Introducing The Chimera Affair, a contemporary spy romance being released May 15. I'll be back then to tell you more about it, but here's a little something to whet your appetite in the meantime: