Monday January 31, 2022
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each Monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:
Tuesday January 25, 2022: Linda Mooney treats us to a paranormal vignette in Wolf Moon.
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January, the Wolf Moon
“I heard some
people say it’s called a Wolf Moon,” Arlene told him. She looked up at the
bright, almost too shiny orb hanging in the night sky. “I guess that means it’s
meant for wolves.”
“I heard
that, too, but it’s all hogwash,” Derris grumbled. “Hurry up before someone
sees us!”
She stepped
gingerly through the frosty grass. Sometimes it crunched under her feet. She
whimpered as a shard of ice pierced the thin soles of her shoes and stabbed her
toes. She stopped to pull it out.
“Are you
all right?” He came back to check on her.
“The grass
hurts,” she admitted. “And I’m cold. When can we change?”
“Not until
we’ve had our fill. You know that,” he gently admonished her.
“It’s been
so long since we’ve—”
“Shhh.
We’re almost there.”
“How much
farther do we have to go?”
“Not far. I
promise.” Lifting her face, he noticed the frozen tears glistening on her
cheeks. He gently brushed them away before kissing her. His lips were amazingly
warm, considering the weather. “Come on.”
They
continued to make their way through the field, avoiding the road or the cement
walkway. She remembered the one time she tried to walk on them instead of the
dead grass. She’d fallen and nearly hurt herself badly on the invisible layer
of ice covering the street. And more than once they’d witnessed vehicles
slipping and crashing into each other, the light poles, signs, and sometimes
into people when the idiots tried to drive on the slickness.
“Why do you
think it’s called a Wolf Moon?” she asked. Hopefully their conversation would
take her mind off of how miserable she felt. She blew on her fingers, but she was
barely able to feel her warm breath on them.
“Something
to do with the Indians. I think they noticed wolves gathering to howl at it.”
“Maybe they
howled because they were cold.” Her teeth were starting to chatter. Shoving her
hands under her armpits, Arlene struggled to follow her mate as the wind picked
up. “Think it’s going to snow tonight?”
She saw him
check the sky. “I doubt it. There’s no clouds. Without any clouds to hold in
the heat, it’s going to get colder. Come on, honey.” He looped an arm through
hers as they continued. “It’s just ahead. I can see the place now.”
“Are you
sure there’ll be something there to eat?” It was becoming difficult to talk.
Her lips were numb, and she’d lost all feeling in her feet.
“Yes. They’ll have something to
eat. They always do,” Derris promised. His words were slightly slurred, which
told her that he was also succumbing to the freezing temperature.
“And after we eat, we’ll be able
to—”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
The world was lit with a bright milky-gray
glow from the full moon. With snow covering almost everything until nothing
remained distinctive under its blanket, it was impossible for her to tell one
lump from another.
However, one massive structure
loomed ahead. Arlene gave another little whimper, this time of relief. Derris led
her straight to the rear of the building where the trash cans were located. Grabbing
the lid of the first one, he threw it open and leaned over to take a deep
breath. “This one’s full, and it smells delicious.” He tilted the can until it
fell onto the ground, spilling its contents.
He was right. The smell of food
filled the frigid air, beckoning them with its promise of a hearty meal. Arlene
dropped to her knees as Derris shredded the plastic bags. Lumps of mashed
potatoes, a few green beans, and beef bones with some meat still attached slid
out onto the snow.
“It’s a feast!”
“Start eating,” he ordered her.
“I’ll look for more.”
There was more. A bite of egg and
toast. Some French fries. The remains of a salad with bacon bits adhered to the
lettuce. And two intact biscuits. Half a slice of cherry pie. Most of
everything was peppered with coffee grounds, but they were able to brush off the
majority of it.
Someone hadn’t eaten every bit of
chicken off their order of wings. There were dinner rolls with a single set of
teeth marks on them, a little boiled cabbage, some macaroni and cheese, and—
“Look!” Derris held it out to her.
Arlene gaped at the two untouched donuts.
“Why would they throw out perfectly
good food?” she asked around a mouthful.
“Stuff like donuts grow stale after
a while,” he told her. “Nobody wants stale donuts.”
“Oh, but they’re so good!” she
argued. “Even cold and hard,” she added, and giggled.
They continued to eat, using the
light of the moon and their sense of smell to find the stuff that was still
edible, even if it was a single piece of broccoli, a tidbit of a strawberry, or
half a slice of cantaloupe.
They gorged themselves, taking
advantage of the contents of all three trash cans. When they were too full to
eat any more, they stretched out on the hard packed ground, unable to move.
Arlene gazed up at the beautiful moon, when she felt Derris’s hand reach out
and take hers, giving it a squeeze.
“Happy now?” he whispered.
“I feel like that moon.”
“Stuffed?”
She tried to laugh, but her stomach
was too bloated. “I feel like howling at it myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m happy. Because now we
can—”
A sound coming from the side of the
building interrupted them. Derris hissed in her ear, “Hurry! Change!”
She was already ahead of him,
shedding her shoes and ragged clothes. He was waiting for her behind the last
overturned trash can when the man came outside, brandishing a flashlight and a
baseball bat.
“Scott? What is it, Scott?” A woman
appeared in the open doorway.
The light played over Derris and
Arlene, revealing their locations. They took off, waddling as fast as they
could from the roadside restaurant.
“It’s just a couple of damn
raccoons,” the man told her. “They got into the trash cans and made a huge mess
out here. Damn, if I can figure out how they’re able to knock over those heavy
cans.”
“Well, leave it for now. It’s too
cold out to do anything about it tonight,” the woman snapped. “Get back in here
before you catch your death!”
Eventually, the man turned off the
flashlight and went back inside the building. The last thing they heard was him
muttering, “I’m gonna hafta put a fence or something around those cans, or
those damn animals will be back.”
They waited for the door to close
before emerging from their hiding place. Nuzzling her cheek with his snout, Derris
motioned for her to follow him.
They left their clothes behind.
There was no need to go back and retrieve them. Even if they did, they had no
way to carry them. Not in their present shape. But it didn’t matter. They could
always find plenty of cast-off clothing people discarded. When they grew hungry
again, and could no longer keep their alternate shapes, it wouldn’t be hard to
find more.
Derris paused beside a tree and
waited for her to catch up. “Warm enough now?” he teased.
She shook the ice crystals from her
thick fur. “Mm-hmm, and full as a tick. Where are we going to spend the night?”
“I was thinking about that storage
shed about a quarter mile down the road. There’s a little tunnel underneath the
flooring that we can use to get inside. We’ll be all toasty and out of the
weather. How’s that sound?”
“Will we be able to see the Wolf Moon
from inside?” She glanced up to stare at the orb’s intense brightness.
“The shed has windows. I’m pretty
sure we can. Come on.”
He turned to lead the way when she
stopped him. “Derris?”
“What, honey?”
“Have I told you lately how much I
love you?”
He smiled. The moonlight reflected
off his mask, making his dark eyes shine. “Tell me again when we curl up to
sleep. I want it to be the last thing I hear.”
Arlene nodded and kissed his mouth.
And together the two raccoons hurried along the side of the road to find their
resting place for the night.
Monday January 24, 2022
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each Monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:
Thursday January 20, 2022: In a post pulled from the archives, Maureen Bonatch lists 4 stories that have stayed with her.
Today's post was originally posted on September 9, 2018. Enjoy!
When I wrote
the intimate scenes for the novellas in the Once Upon A Princess Trio, I wanted
to be sure they were a fit for the stories.
Each novella
features a different couple, and each scene is a fit for their relationship. In Heart of Stone, the hero is a gargoyle shifter who is actually
under a magical spell. The scenes are more based on fantasy than reality since
they occur in his enchanted palace. The hero has been in love with the heroine from
afar, and he's desperate to show her his love. If she falls in love with him,
it can be the key to breaking his curse.
For Beauty and
the Faun, I didn't introduce intimate scenes right away. In fact, the couple are
friends and not lovers for most of the story. The heroine hasn't been intimate
with anyone before. I emphasized that she was having her first experience. The
hero is playful and a bit of a "bad boy" but he's patient enough to
wait until the heroine is ready. And once she is, they both find that they're
matched as lovers.
In Land of
Dreams, the hero has a more complicated origin story (I won't say more so that I
don't reveal any spoilers). He's not expecting to fall in love with the
heroine. He plans to help her learn magic and nothing more. The hero is a world-weary
type who is nursing a broken heart. Since the story is in his POV the scenes are
more sensual and have less "insert tab A into slot B" kinds of descriptions.
Writing
intimate scenes can be a big challenge. Should there be a lot of detail? How
soon should the first love scene happen? It all depends on knowing your
characters and understanding the purpose of the scenes. I think it's important that
the actions and emotions feel natural. Romantic scenes should enhance the story
and not feel out of place.
Monday January 17, 2022
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:
Douglas Adams said it best: "I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." I usually have a love/hate relationship with deadlines myself. Sometimes I find them motivating, other times not so much. And, yeah, I usually manage a sense of equanimity in the rare instance when one flies past unmet. Not this time though. That's because this time around the stakes are a little higher than normal. If this deadline isn't met, it will screw with my publishing plan for the rest of the year. And I really need that to not happen.
So, instead of a post, I'm going to link to an excerpt from Truth or Dare--the first book in my Games We Play series. The reason I chose that book is two-fold. Number one, the most recent book in the series, The Name Game goes on sale in less than two weeks. January 24, to be exact. Number two, it's one of the books featured in a romance series starters promo I'm involved with (link below).
With some books, you always feel like you didn't quite hit your mark. Maybe there was a plot hole, or a character that no one got. Maybe you lacked the skill to transcribe the story as it existed in your head.
Other stories turn out exactly the way you wanted. This book--and really the entire series for the most part, even considering the convoluted timeline of book three--is definitely the latter. It's been a fun series to write, which I guess is in keeping for a series with both "games" and "play" in the title!
Link to excerpt:http://rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com/2018/09/the-beachin-winter.html
Link to BookFunnel Promo: https://books.bookfunnel.com/firstinromanceseries/id5zup4qds
Monday January 10, 2022
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:
He was one of thirty-one aliens who had landed on this remote world and dispersed among the populace, unidentifiable because of their shape-shifting abilities.
Jebaral had hoped for a life. A chance to be free after escaping years of slavery and cruelty. But when he met Hannah Pitt, there was no way he could turn away from her or from the feelings she evoked in him. But neither could he accept her offer of a future filled with laughter and promise. After all, she was human; he was nothing remotely human.
Worse, the Arra were out looking for their lost cargo and they wouldn't stop until every body was accounted for.
Could he risk loving this woman? Would she even accept him for what he truly was?
Little did he realize that all his choices would soon be taken away.
Warning! Contains emotions that smell, remote locations, meatless dishes, owl lying, years of running and hiding, and harrowing revenge in a brown pickup truck.
Also available!
He was one of thirty-one aliens who had landed on this remote world and dispersed among the populace, unidentifiable because of their shape-shifting abilities.
Jebaral had hoped for a life. A chance to be free after escaping years of slavery and cruelty. But when he met Hannah Pitt, there was no way he could turn away from her or from the feelings she evoked in him. But neither could he accept her offer of a future filled with laughter and promise. After all, she was human; he was nothing remotely human.
Worse, the Arra were out looking for their lost cargo and they wouldn't stop until every body was accounted for.
Could he risk loving this woman? Would she even accept him for what he truly was?
Little did he realize that all his choices would soon be taken away.
Warning! Contains emotions that smell, remote locations, meatless dishes, owl lying, years of running and hiding, and harrowing revenge in a brown pickup truck.
Also available!
Okay, so the productive part is mostly aimed at myself. I wasted FAR TOO MUCH time doomscrolling last year. The pandemic is still hanging around, but I am determined to keep my fingers type-typing away this year.
My ideas have always outstripped my ability to turn them into novels. In some ways this is good--it means the ideas that make it into novels are generally the best-of-the-bunch--but it's frustrating when I have a new idea that I love which I know I won't have time to write for literally years. So, I'd like to improve the ratio and that means being more productive.
My normal drafting pace is around a 1000 words/day. Which was a perfectly adequate word count when I had toddlers to look after or a job, but I ought to be able to do better now. So I've started a new strategy. Basically, instead of trying to hit a word count (and then usually quitting for the day if I make it) I'm going to aim for writing for two or three hours a day. Actual writing time, not me writing a hundred words then goofing off on social media. I'm too cheap to shell out for a program that bars me from social media like Freedom so I'm using the Alarm Clock function on my computer. Once ever hour I set a 30 minute timer during which I am not allowed to open my browser but must remain in my word processor program.
So far this is really working for me! I've hit over 2000 words each day this week, which for me is a terrific day.
The lurking worm in my bowl of soup is that I started a new novel on Monday and I know from experience that my writing always goes smoother during this first "honeymoon" phase. I won't truly know how my timer method is working until I hit the inevitable snag/vague bit in my outline. In the meantime I'm going to get in all the words that I can.
Tally ho!
Wishing you all the very best New Year!
Monday January 3, 2022
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:
Thursday December 30, 2021: The HBM authors look back at highlights from 2021
I had a new story release yesterday. Light Up the Night is my contribution to the Shadows and Chaos story collection. This is a Children of Night story and it features my vampires Heather and Drew.
Sure things are heating up for them NOW, but it wasn't always that way! Here's our first look at the pair, way back in book two of the series, Old Sins, Long Shadows:
Excerpt:
Danny leaned across the bar. Motioning with his head toward the front of the club he said, “Mr. Geiger? That crazy girl’s back.”
“What?” Drew shot a startled glance in the direction Danny had indicated. His expression darkened. “Son of a bitch, I thought we’d seen the last of her.” Growling in annoyance, he downed his stout and set the glass on the bar with a thump. “Right. I’ll just go kick her ass to the curb. Again.”
“Why? What’d she do?” Marc studied the slight blonde standing just inside the door. She looked young, still in her teens most likely. Not that appearances were anything to go by when it came to vampires of course, but there was a hungry, desperate, confused look on her face as she scanned the crowd that marked her as a probable newbie. Marc knew a moment of empathy. “Who is she?”
Drew shook his head. “She’s no one. Just some feral kitten who keeps coming around scaring the crap out of people.”
“She scares people? Are you serious?”
“Look at her, man.” Danny’s voice held more than a hint of panic. “She’s outta control! She nearly ripped some poor guy’s head off the first time she came in here, before anyone knew what she was. She still looks like she could kill someone.”
“Yes, well, she probably has.” Drew shot Danny a pitying glance. “Relax. We talked about this last time, didn’t we? She’s not going to be doing it here. Now get back to work. I’ll take care of things, just like always. Got that?”
Danny nodded. “Yes, sir,” he murmured, his tone subdued.
As Drew headed for the door, Marc fell into step beside him. “A feral kitten? What the hell, bro? That’s way cold.”
“Is it? The girl’s a nuisance. You saw how Danny was affected, didn’t you? He’s not the only one feels that way.”
“Yeah, but what’s it even mean?”
Drew shook his head. “It means she’s fresh-out-of-the-box new—all teeth and claws and no skills whatsoever. She has no family, no nest, no house. Nobody has any idea who made her or, if they do, they’re not admitting to it. I’m actually surprised she’s still hanging around. She must have had the gods’ own luck to survive for as long as she has out on the street on her own. Still, it’s only a matter of time before her luck runs out and she’s put down. Sooner the better, I say.”
“Put down? You mean killed?” Startled, Marc put a hand on his friend’s arm to stop him. “Drew, she’s just a kid.”
Drew turned to him, his glance skeptical. “Not too likely, is it? If she’s enough of an adult to survive being turned, she’s old enough to suffer the consequences of her actions.”
“Whatever. You’re still talking about murder.”
Drew glanced impatiently toward the door. “Look, Marc, I realize it may seem unpleasant from your perspective, but that’s the human in you talking. This is the way things work in our world and trust me, it’s for the best. Ferals are notoriously difficult to deal with. They’re answerable to no one, which makes them almost impossible to rehabilitate even in the best of circumstances. For one so young, someone who’s had no training at all, it’s fairly hopeless. Unless the girl wises up somehow, which I can’t really see happening, she’ll likely be dead within a matter of weeks. Certainly by year’s end at the very latest. With any luck, the end will be quick and relatively painless, but that’s really the most she can hope for. Now, would you please let me go? I have work to do.”
“What is she doing that’s so wrong? So she scares people. Big deal. So do we.”
Drew sighed. “It is a big deal actually, and it’s not at all the same thing. What we do is conscious and calculated, undertaken with a clear understanding of the risks involved. What she does is mindless and uncontrolled and it threatens us all. But, listen, this is not our concern. I’m not about to harm her, if that’s what’s worrying you. It’s not my place to do so and, besides, it’s not necessary. Sooner or later, she’ll cross paths with someone who’s powerful enough, or well-connected enough, that he won’t care who she belongs to, or whose toes he might be stepping on if he disposes of her—and that’ll be the end of it. Until then, I’m just going to keep tossing her out whenever she shows her face in here. But I am going to do that.” He glanced meaningfully at Marc’s hand, still fastened on his arm. “Now, if you don’t mind?”
