Today we have Dianne Hartsock, the author of “Alex” visiting with us! Welcome, Dianne!
Here’s another six from FORESHADOW, book one of The Shadow Imperium! How would you like to have Rae’s crazy nightmares?
The fog thickened around me and began to coalesce. I could hear laughter echoing from within the fog. It was horrifying. I couldn’t get past whatever was forming behind me. I threw my hands over my head in a futile attempt to protect myself and crouched down, sobbing hysterically. I was expecting the worst, but praying for a miracle . . .
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When I first saw today’s “Book Crush” topic, my mind immediately went to Kellin from The Chronicles of the Cheysuli. Since I already discussed him in a previous, non-WILW post (HERE) I thought I would tell you all about my most recent book crush: Phoenix “Nix” Birmingham from Pandora’s Box by Gracen Miller.
This is Gracen’s rendition of Nix (Chris Evans with different hair and tattoos added).
Today we have a guest on the blog: Grace Elliot, author of A Dead Man’s Debt. She’s sharing where she gets her inspiration. Don’t forget to comment on this post for a chance to win a PDF copy of A Dead Man’s Debt!
With a flash of annoyance Ranulf glanced upward.
“Does it look all right?” Muttering under his breath, all he needed was some sensitive Miss fainting on him. “Go! Fetch help from the house.”
He saw her hesitate, biting her top lip. “But you need help now.”
A contraction clamped around his arm as the cow’s tail switched across his face, stinging his eyes like a cat-o-nine-tails.
In a flurry of muslin and lace the Miss slid down the bank, landing with a thud in the ditch.
“Ouch.” She rubbed her ankle. Ranulf glared back, dark eyes flashing.
“You should have gone to the house.” Damn it all, she could make herself useful then. “Hold the tail aside.”
Pulling a face she limped over. Ranulf’s eye lingered for she merited a second glance. Of middle height with a tidy waist and curves where God intended them, she appeared quick witted and bright eyed. Without further ado, she stripped off her gloves throwing them onto a bramble bush. Long, sensitive fingers grasped the muddy tail. Practical, Ranulf thought, silently impressed.
“Why didn’t you go for help?”
“There wasn’t time.” Her bonnet slipped backwards, revealing a quirky face with a pointed chin, her lips finely drawn with an arched cupid’s bow. The sort of face an artist could lose himself in, all shades of the sea to be found in deep emerald eyes framed by a tangle of chestnut hair.
Ranulf tightened his grasp and pushed. Sweat beading his brow. The calf retreated an inch.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was gentle and calm, if somewhat deep for a woman. Ranulf guessed it would be husky in bed, whispering over a pillow after a night of passion. Her eyes were on him – deep green eyes, lively and entrancing. Suddenly he remembered that he was undressed to the waist, her curious gaze on his skin as he was gripped by the idea of those lily white hands gliding over his naked chest, her almond shaped nails digging into his skin. He shook away the thought, trying to remember her question.
All innocence and interest she watched, blushing faintly in a charming way and yet, he realized, no wilting flower. He shook his head. The woman had asked a question, damn it. He would answer.
“The calf is breech.” He grunted, “I need to push her back into the womb to turn her…” He wanted to shock this stranger, to test how bold she truly was. She stared back, biting her top lip, exaggerating her snub nose.
“Ah!” Her gaze met his.
“Think of the calf as a carriage in a narrow driveway. To turn it around you push it back into the stable yard…”
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing.” He growled.
Throwing him an angry look, she anchored the tail with a log and scrambled round to the beast’s head. After a moment‟s thought, she placed her pelisse under the cow’s head stroking the broad nose and crooning words of comfort.
“She’s relaxing.” Ranulf’s arm was numb from the contractions. He fell forward, as the first leg finally slid back into the womb. “That helps.” His hair had come free from the ribbon, falling thickly about his shoulders. He glanced at the Miss. She was leaning forward, her bosom straining against a tight bodice, a satisfying cleavage between her breasts. He swallowed hard. She was odd looking, he decided, not exactly beautiful but eye catching none the less. Her face showed character, determination…and her complexion too healthy to be fashionable, rosy cheeked and peppered with freckles which with a hint of sunlight burst into a profusion.
The Miss was glaring at him now, her skin glowing bright pink. Had he been staring? His heart raced as he returned to the calving.
I probably should have chosen something from FORESHADOW to post today, but I’m just having way too much fun writing OUROBOROS! It was so hard to choose. Here’s six sentences from OUROBOROS, book one of The Zayin Chronicles. I just wrote this earlier this week, so please keep in mind that it’s unedited.
Hi all! I just wanted to put up a list of links to all of my Short Story Saturday posts. For those of you not familiar with my Short Story Saturday posts, I am currently writing a short story called “Bemused” which follows my Muse Lorelei through her training.
Beginning tomorrow with Part Ten, I’ll start including the links to all the previous posts at the end of the story. Please click on the number of the part (Part One, Part Two, etc) to go to that number post. The link is embedded in the text.