Thursday, February 28, 2013

Oops! I Forgot!

I'm a bad author!  I forgot to let people know that book 3 of Sumeria's Sons is up on Silver's site and open for pre-orders. Release is scheduled for March 23rd.

*Gasp* That is just around the corner! Tristan and Ushna were interviewed over at Hearts On Fire Reviews. As soon as I get a date I'll post it. I'll also host a release party on the 23rd with a couple of unique gifts to giveaway to a couple of lucky participants.

Today I will share the blurbs for Dreams of the Forgotten!  Cheers!


Tristan is plagued by barely remembered dreams and struggles against the urge to bind Ushna to him since Ushna has a Twin Flame awaiting rebirth. But he could lose Ushna in the next lifetime unless he remembers his dreams of the forgotten.

As Tristan and Ushna build a secure infrastructure for their rapidly growing tribe and family, Tristan is plagued by dreams he barely remembers. Factions and enemies threaten to destroy the peace they wish to build, even as Tristan keeps his condition under wraps from all but those closest to him. Amidst it all, Tristan struggles against the urge to bind Ushna to him because Ushna already has a Flame waiting for rebirth. Tristan would do anything to protect that bond, even if it means losing Ushna in the next lifetime. Unless, he remembers his dreams of the forgotten.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Free Short Story Coming Soon

I had to share. The short story isn't ready yet but I have cover art for it, fashioned by the beautiful and talented Tabatha Heart.

There is something to be said about the simplicity of some covers and the message they convey.

The Awakening of Amanra is a free short story, running a couple of words under 5k. I wrote it for a challenge over at the GoodReads LBGT Fantasy Group (Look Here). They posted a stunning picture and we were given the option to write:

1) Poetry Try to not exceed five thousands words

2) Blurb / Micro-Flash Up to one hundred words (100 words)

3) Flash Up to one thousands words (1,000 words)

4) Short Story Up to five thousands words (5,000 words) 

I chose the short story. Never, ever will I believe short stories are easy again. That is so far from the truth. I humbly bow to the authors who are able to write them as if it's as easy as breathing. 

I, on the other hand, struggled to "show and not tell" and with the amount of detail I wanted to put into the story vs. what was pertinent to the storyline. I scrapped it twice and then rewrote the first half on the third go around.  Don't laugh, I spent 30 days trying to get it right. And at the end of the process, I now have this great idea for a novel length book set in this world with these characters.

I hope when you finish reading the story, you will understand why I think Tabatha hit the cover symbols spot on. It's freaking perfect.

Watch for The Awakening of Amanra coming sometime in the beginning of March! I will put up several notices here, Facebook, and GoodReads. I can't wait!

Monday, February 18, 2013

Swept Away Blog Hop Winner Announcement!

First, I wanted to say, thank you, to everyone for stopping by and leaving a comment.  I hope everyone enjoyed the excerpt and the Blog Hop.  I noticed some really great giveaways going on!

My prize is a $20 gift certificate for All

Everyone was assigned a number in the order the comments were left on the blog.

1) Julie
2) Sue
3) Crissy
4) Nancy
5) AshleyE
6) Gigi
7) JPadawan
8) Cassandra
9) Urb
10) JBST
11) Judi
12) Jibriel
13) Susanmp
14) Meghan
15) Vitajex
16) Teresa
17) Sherry
18) Lasha
19) Rain
20) Shadow
21) Emily
22) Beth
23) Juliana

The number range was put in the random number generator and viola!

Congratulations to #20 Shadow!!
(I'll email you shortly!)


Check back soon.  I will have several e-book giveaways for March's release, Dreams of the Forgotten. Details to come soon!!

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Last day-Swept Away Blog Hop 14th thru 17th

Welcome to the Swept Away Blog Hop!  Today is the last day to enter to win prizes for The Blog Hop Spot. you have until midnight to night to participate.

There are over 100 authors who are contributing to the Hop so make sure you check them out at the The Blog Hop Spot today CLICK HERE for a chance to win more prizes.

Anyone who leaves a comment here will be entered into a drawing for a $20 gift certificate for All Look Here. I don't know about you but I love book shopping.

What we have today is an excerpt for Ruby Red Booty Shorts & A Louisville Slugger. It can be found at Silver PublishingAll RomanceAmazon, and Barnes & Noble



Diego Hernandez had long been in love with Beck Zell. Deciding it was now or never, he confronted his best friend, and they spend a perfect night discovering new and kinky things about each other. But the next morning, things start going downhill fast when a suspicious package arrives on the doorstep for Beck. Accosted by thugs, they barely escape. Memories of a dead brother and an untouchable drug lord spur Diego to believe his lover was mixed up in a dangerous underworld. Diego would do anything to save Beck, even if it's at the business end of a Louisville Slugger. Little did he know he was jumping feet first into the paranormal world policed by ION.


"Diego Hernandez, did you hear a word I said?" The sultry voice of his best friend, Denise Everson, cut into his nervous thoughts.
"Yes… no… yes." He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. "The decorations are up. Dinner for the Feast of Epiphany is in the refrigerator. All I have to do tomorrow is pop it into the oven."
"What's wrong? Is your madre that upset you're not going home for Three Kings Day?" Denise had known him since kindergarten and she was able to read him like a book.
"I'm going to tell Beck I love him." He couldn't believe he blurted it out like that. He glanced at the clock, mentally counting down the time until his roommate would be home from his business trip.
"It's about time. You've been in love with him since I introduced you at that Parkour event your senior year of college. Why now?"
Diego breathed out forcefully. His hand automatically searched for the turquoise rock in his pocket. He always carried his abuela's gift and rubbed it like a worry stone whenever he thought of Beck. "He's traveling more for Jacobs, Brenner, and Rogue. The last six months he's been quiet and tense when we're alone together. I can't watch him bring dates home anymore. It hurts, Dee, to see him touch someone else, to listen to him have sex. I can move out, distance myself, or tell him how I feel. I can't lose him and, as it is now, I'm losing him every day."
"You already know how I feel. Why are you on the phone with me instead of getting ready? Hang up and call me later with details; I want lots of details." Her bright laughter sounded in his ear before she disconnected.
Diego was a jumble of nerves as he checked his hair in the mirror. He showered—twice. He shaved in all the extra places more than once. He put on his favorite pair of fuck-me jeans and chose a black, silk button-up shirt. His fingers danced along the buttons as he tried to decide if he should fasten the shirt all the way up or leave the top three undone.
The rattle of keys at the door caused his heart to leap and his stomach to plummet as he hurried over to the 'staging area'. His heart pounded hard and, for several seconds, it was the only sound he heard. His roommate, Beck Zell, walked through the door and set his briefcase on the floor before taking off his suit jacket. The man looked damned fine in those expensive suits. The sight of slender, athletic shoulders stretching the fabric of the shirt as he removed his suit jacket had Diego hard and wanting.
Beck stopped unbuttoning his cuffs when he noticed Diego leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. Diego knew the thick line of his erection was defined by his skintight jeans. Diego saw Beck's bright turquoise eyes widen as they slowly traveled over his body, stopping at the exposed skin of Diego's abdomen. He had used only the three buttons in the middle, revealing both his smooth, dark chest and the work-hardened abs. Beck's now-hungry eyes coasted lazily down Diego's body, halting at his groin. His roommate's gaze seemed to turn steamy as Beck licked his lips. At least, that was how it appeared from where Diego stood.
That one look emboldened Diego. He swallowed his nervous apprehension, pushed off the doorframe, and sauntered toward Beck. He had years of stored-up fantasies about their first kiss. How he would feel, what Beck would look like—taste like. As he took Beck's golden—flushed face between his rough hands, he realized all of the imagination in the world didn't come close to the real thing.
His roommate smelled faintly of sandalwood and vanilla. His five o'clock shadow prickled against the palm of Diego's hands. Brushing their lips together, Diego was tentative before he pressed more firmly. He tilted his head and licked Beck's bottom lip, needing a small taste. The evening stubble rasped over Diego's soft, tender skin and tickled his tongue as he swiped it over the edge. Licking, tasting, he silently asked Beck for more.
His friend stiffened for a split second before he grabbed Diego's ass, lifted, turned, and pinned him against the wall. Diego wasn't a little guy. Beck was a couple of inches taller than Diego's own five ten, but Diego was broad and sturdy, occasionally referred to as a brute, especially when compared to Beck's trim, ropey frame. The manhandling thrilled Diego and fueled his arousal. Diego groaned as Beck took over the kiss and it escalated from sweet and gentle to urgent and devouring. Diego opened his mouth to let Beck in to stroke and plunder as their bodies fused together.
Diego couldn't believe Beck was in his arms. He was experiencing, hands down, the best kiss of his life with the one man he'd only dared to dream about. His friend kneaded his ass and pulled him closer. Diego threw a leg over Beck's hip and lazily rubbed their groins together. He ground against the impressive length Beck was hiding behind his respectable clothing.
Diego's hands wouldn't stay still. He needed to touch Beck everywhere. He carded his fingers through honey-colored hair that flipped up at the ears. They coasted along muscular arms and over wide strong shoulders of Beck’s athletic body that was slender instead of bulky. Diego wasn't satisfied until he was able to touch Beck's golden skin. He could remember all the times his roommate had lounged shirtless and he hadn't been allowed to touch. He could only stare at the expanse of taut chest and fantasize what it would feel like under his hands.
Neither one wanted to separate long enough to make the quick retreat to Diego's room. Their unhurried movements were more of a slow dance, not a frenzied fit of disrobing—a leisurely shuffle. Some part of them was constantly in contact as they moved across the floor. They pushed and pulled while maneuvering each other toward the bedroom, only to be occasionally sidetracked by a nip of lips, or the brush of fingers over sensitive skin.
When Diego backed into the bed, a wave of nerves washed over him. He pulled back from Beck's kiss. Breathless, skin flushed, and tingling from stimulation, he drank in the face of the man he'd secretly loved for years. Beck's lips were red and kiss-swollen. His eyes were half lidded with naked desire, and his sensibly-trimmed hair was in disarray. His roommate had never looked more perfect.
He had only intended to tell Beck he loved him, but the look in his friend's eyes caused all logical plans to fly out the window. How did the situation get so out of control? There were some things he needed to say to Beck about himself, preferably before they went further.
Sensing Diego's hesitancy, Beck's hooded expression turned to one of concern as he stroked Diego's cheek with the back of his knuckles. "I can wait if you need time." The blond's voice was low and gravelly with suppressed need. He was visibly struggling to rein himself in as he took a step back.
The apprehension melted away. This was Beck—not some trick he'd hooked up with. "Please…" He held out his hand.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Sunday's WIP

Okay this one is a little different. I had edits for Dreams of the Forgotten this past week, which is exhausting and I went to bed early Monday night. I woke up a couple of hours later with this story that needed to come out. I tried to ignore it but it was very persistent.

That brief snippet is what I am sharing with you.

This is not my typical story. I write Sci-fi, Fantasy with heroes and villains, epic battles, and sweeping romance. So this is intimidating as well as soul baring for me.

This is a huge ball of yarn that I don't have the time tuntangle at the moment.  A story like this deserves some deep, heartfelt attention, and if I get it right, then there will be a balance. A bit of soul searching, some healing, a nice hot stud, I'm thinking motorcycle... maybe. I'm not going to make nameless, I don't even have a name for him, relive the past. Essentially, he's worked through most of his issues regarding the attack, making the primary issue--not being able to save Adam, trying to remember who he was before the attack, and meshing it with who he is now. And about learning how to love again, but not only that, learning to love the right person. If I do it right, it can be a very uplifting story.

So here is a small glimpse into a story that named itself, On My Way to Arizona. I hope it touches you as it did me. Because I bawled like a baby when I wrote it.

February 16th

Anyone who tells you that walking away is easy is a liar. And those who heckle you for doing so, with their snide comments about cowards, yeah, well, fuck you. What do they know about it? Absolutely nothing.

When someone you love is hurt, scarred inside and out, they change. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. Sometimes so much that the person they used to be is no longer there and a stranger looks out at you from their eyes.

Life, it's not like in the books where love conquers all if you just persevere. One day your partner is fine and the next, the trauma is slowly stealing them from you until the only thing left are memories. One day you are everything they ever want and the next there is nothing about you they like or need. It seems suddenly you're not enough and your love can't fix it. That's not how it works in the real world. I have learned that love, it fixes nothing. Pouring your love into a relationship or a person gets you nowhere.

I thought if I stay long enough that this trauma would pass and we would have a deeper, stronger relationship because we are soul mates, aren't we? I mean, that's what we said, what he said. I believed him—right up to the end when Adam burned all my belongings on the front lawn.

Six months earlier

I had come home and all the things Adam thought I cared about, he had tossed a bonfire in the front yard of our condo. The neighbors stood on their porches and the street curb watching in rapt fascination as Adam burned me out of his life. I had continued to believe there would be an us. I had thought that one day he would heal.


He stood off to the side watching the fire with no expression, occasionally he'd squirt the blaze with lighter fluid and the flame would kick up.

"What are you doing?"

Adam took a drag off his cigarette, a habit he'd picked up after the night that fucked up lives.

"I told you to get out. I don't want you here anymore." He kicked a duffle bag toward me. "If you don't take this and leave, I'll torch it too."

On one hand I was stunned. I didn't want to believe he could mean it, and yet, I could see he did. He stared at me with eyes so full of anger and hate. There was animosity in his words, it seemed to be a constant nowadays, but I could always read his eyes. They never matched the behavior he used sometimes to lash out at me. But this time was different; the hate wasn't only in his words but in his eyes as well and directed solely at me. Seeing that look took my fucking heart out.

"Why?" I choked. I'd done everything the doctors had said I should, every goddamn thing and none of it helped.

"Because every time I look into your face, you remind me. I'm sick of it. I've done everything I can to get you to leave. I made your life fucking hell and you hung on like a bull dog, like you believed every stupid line I ever told you. So I'm making sure you hear me loud and clear. Take the bag and get the fuck out of my life." 

Adam flicked the butt of the cigarette and it bounced off my chest before he strode up the walk and sat on the porch chair, lighting up a new cigarette.

Numbly, I picked up the bag and hefted it to my shoulder. I didn't remember how long I simply stood there, waiting for God knows what.

"If you don't get off the front lawn, I'm calling the fucking cops." Adam called from the porch.

Every step I took tore a piece of my heart out. The hard pavement under my feet, the cool night air, nothing really registered. That neighborhood had been home to the both of us for several years. It bordered my favorite strip of ocean but I noticed none of it as I put it behind me. Everything that I loved was gone and I had nothing.

So once again I did what Adam wanted and I left.

See, trauma affects everybody differently. Some of us just show it more than others. So while Adam burned me out of his life, I would walk him out of mine. Because, you see, Adam hadn't been alone when he was drugged and attacked. Everything that happened to him—yeah, it happened to me too. I had done everything I could to be there for him because there was no one who could be there for me. But I couldn't save him, not then, and not now. 

So go ahead. Judge me for leaving, for not sticking it out to a happy-fucking-after. Walking away wasn't easy, even when it was the last thing I could do for him.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Saturday's Release!!

I'm so excited that my short story, Leap of Faith, is releasing with the Love is Love Anthology on Saturday!  I hope everyone enjoys Dawson Green and Ben Hamilton!


Ben thought he had everything he wanted. A successful marketing business, a beautiful home, and a partner he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. That was until the ultimate act of betrayal crushed his dreams.

After building his business from scratch with his lover, Ben prepared to take the next step and marry Javier, the man he loved. How could he have known that being the surprise at Javier's bachelor party would change everything? Heartbroken and lost, a chance encounter with a kind stranger gives him a helping hand.

Dawson didn't realize giving Ben a place to stay for a couple of days would change his life or gain him a friend. He only wished Ben wanted more than friendship. A small misunderstanding makes Dawson realize he may have read Ben wrong. Does Dawson have time to correct his mistake before the past comes back and tries to take Ben from him?

Available at Silver Publishing: CLICK HERE

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Cover for Dreams of the Forgotten Revealed!!

Here it is ladies and gents. The cover for book number three of the Sumeria's Sons series.

Tristan is looking but better on this cover than he did in the other two. But in a way, unintentionally, it follows how in the beginning Tristan was just a shadow of himself. Now, he has so much more to live for.  He looks so vibrant. LOL!

Okay! That's my artistic interpretation of it.

I held off posting the cover because I had hoped the blurb would be finished and the link set up on Silver's pre-sale page. One of the two has been accomplished but I didn't think I needed a link right now anyway.

Release day is scheduled for March the 26th. I'm planning a release party, and eBook giveaway, and a special gift or two that only a few people have seen the "possibilities" of.

So Don't Miss Out. 

Check back here or on the Facebook page for hints and tidbits. Another thing to watch for, Hearts on Fire Reviews will be interviewing our boys, Ushna and Tristan, before the release of Dreams of the Forgotten.

Incidentally: Twin Flames and Songs of the Earth made some favorites lists.  Very Cool.

Hearts on Fire Reviews : CLICK HERE

Joyfully Jay - Crissy's List : CLICK HERE

OH! OH! OH! MAKE SURE you pop in on Sunday because I have a special something-something new for you read!!

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Sunday's WIP

More of:  Werewolf's Tail & A Druid Sword

This may be the last tidbit I'll share of this WIP. After this, I would be giving away too many spoilers.

Upcoming Events:  I have received edits for Dreams of the Forgotten from the editor. I have yet to share the cover on the blog, so look for that and maybe an excerpt.  I also have a new release coming in six days, I think.  All in all, it will be a very busy week with a giveaway!!

This is the unedited first draft which is always crappy but I hope you enjoy it anyway.  Cheers!!

© 2013, Lexi Ander

Jude had had enough of the man's vile hatred. He drew a quietly sobbing Tasha into his arms, soothing back her pixy hair. He'd find another way to locate the mates and help the werewolves. There had to be shamans, people, out there who cared. Weren't they supposed to be healers or spiritual people? It was crock of shit if anyone asked Jude right at that moment.

"Come on Tasha, we'll find another way."

As Diego would say, "Pendejo."

The shaman snorted and sneered. "What? You're going to save the werewolves?"

"Yes!" Jude snapped with barely controlled fury. "With or without a shaman's help."

The prick grabbed a rod on the table nearest to him and charged at Jude. Swinging Tasha behind him onto the floor, he grasped the handle of the sword from the wicker basket. Electricity jumped from the sword to Jude as he drew the blade.
The sword met and shattered the wooden rod. It was mere inches before it would've slammed into Jude's head. He'd had more than enough bile from the pompous asshole. Jude's body hummed and something within broke free in a warm rush. He kicked Red in the chest with the hard sole of his biker boot.

The prick staggered back into a table. The scrape of steel on wood filled the air as the man grasped a sword from the surface. Jude's body grew warn, then hot. Energy zipped thought him. Jude's veins burned with liquid fire. His breath huffed white clouds, chilled as if he breathed the air of the coldest winter night. Jude staggered. his limbs at once weighty and the next moment light as air. His head spun and a band tightened around his chest stealing his breath.

The pendejo laughed gleefully and swung the sword in a wide arc over his head and gave a war whoop that echoed about the room. The walls shimmered and ghost's images of Pic warriors dressed only in their protective tattoos of blue wode for battle. The phantoms smashed their weapons together filling the room with clatter and roaring voices.

"When I'm done with you, boy, I will finished what the White Witch has started and put the werewolves out of their misery." Red grinned, the white of his eyes swallowed by black, glistening blue fangs in a harsh smile.

Jude swayed from dizziness, nausea gripped his belly, but he refused to fall to whatever strange illness gripped him. And he refused to allow another to threaten his family.

"Over my dead body," Jude replied through gritted teeth.

He met the crazed man in a ringing clash of swords. Each parry and thrust because easier, his mind supplying memories of technique and form. Jude had never wielded a sword in his entire life but with every swing of his arm his knowledge grew until his body moved with unbroken action.

He fought.

As he battled the shaman in a flurry of sword play, the ghost warriors attacked, drawing Jude's blood. A force within his mind burned and flexed. He pushed a wave of energy out. It rippled through the room dissolving the illusion of ghost. The man screamed as if Jude had ripped something away from him.

He pressed his attack, pushing the red head back. The heckling light had left the man's countenance. Instead the prick watched Jude with a keen assessing gaze. He tested Jude's defenses and reflexes, Jude's strength, and finally Jude's mind.

The mental onslaught snapped Jude's head back and he lost his grip on the sword before the fell to his knees. Jude slammed up hastily constructed shields that were smashed with barely a touch. Over and over Jude defended as the shaman walked around him clucking his tongue at Jude with each defeat. If living with Diego had taught Jude anything it was there was always a way over an obstacle and more than one way to win a fight.

To use any means necessary.

When the smug ass pendejo passed in front of Jude again, he launched his body into the hombre, aiming his shoulder into the man's gonads. The mental attack stopped freeing Jude's mind. Red crumpled to the floor, hunched into a ball around his center. Jude rolled the man over and straddled his chest, trapping the arms under his knees.

Heaving for breath, Jude fisted a hand in the man's red hair. Raising the prick's head slightly Jude knocked the man's head into the dark wood of the floor. He pressed the palm of the other hand against the man's throat and waited for the dazed look to pass from the shaman's eyes and focus on Jude.

Jude squeezed the shaman's throat, cutting off most of the airway--but not all. "They. Are. Mine. So long as I live, none will harm them. Not even a crazy assed shaman like you."