Update: Releasing Chaos Progress and Excerpt

The manuscript is finally in the hands of beta readers. When I started Releasing Chaos, I didn't realized how tricksy the story would. It demanded more POVs in order to tell the story properly. I tried everything I could think of to keep from going there because Dragon's Eye was three 1st person POVs. I didn't need any more voices in my head.

Around 25k I cried uncle.

I picked up some figures that go with the story.

The issue became internalizing the new POVs and discovering who they were at the core of their self. Did you understand what I tried to say there because I almost didn't? We know these characters through Tristan's eyes but who they are on the inside can be drastically different from what others see. I had to find each one of them which was harder than I'd anticipated. Plus, it took more time. Releasing Chaos was abandoned June of last year and sat around waiting for me to get it together.

March of this year I was determined to push my way through completing the manuscript. I was ready for the series to be over, though I'd miss the characters. But it was time. And I did have to push through writing some of it. I hate it when the words don't come and that happened often with this book.

My salvation (dramatic, I know) came from free writing certain POVs which eventually lead to many, "Oh? Oh! Ooohhhh." After much cussing and then crying, I finished the first draft on June 15th. The book wasn't 70k I had anticipated, but a heft 130k. Unfortunately, the more than half the draft was hand written. I let the story sit for a couple of weeks and then on July 1st I started line edits and transcription. I thought I'd be finished with it before I went to the family reunion on July 25th, but I was still 30k away from the finish line. After we returned on the 29th, I started the last sprint. Copies went out to the beta readers on the 3rd. Yay!

I won't have time to sit around and refresh my email waiting for beta responses. I'm gone for another ten days. First to meet up with my coauthor, Kenzie Cade, and then to visit family. It's probably a good thing that I won't be around. I'm excited to see what kind of response I'll get and I'll torture myself thinking about what everyone will hate.

In the meantime, I'm leaving you with the short prologue that is the beginning of the end. :) I hope you enjoy it.

Prologue

~The Nameless

We Nameless had been running hard for many days. Something crawled under our ruff, beckoning us southeast. The part of us that once was human cowered in the back of our minds, pleading with us to stay at our den, but we could not. The pull on us was strong, and we responded to the urgent need seeping into our paws through the ground.

"Hurry," The Earth Mother whispered to us.

Months ago our alpha freed us from the vileness of our human side, locking away the corruption so we could teach our humans the lessons they had either forgotten or were never taught. We shared the joys of running on four paws, of being family, of supporting each other through the hunt. We gave them our love for the land, the sky, the water, and for each other. We showed them how to work together and yet still be individuals. For we were wolf. Hunter. Predator. Mother. Father. Family.

Now as they proclaimed their fear, we would teach them how to stand together, to use their instincts to discern right from wrong. The Earth Mother called us to the alpha's aid. Though he made nameless, he had shown us mercy and set us free. He would forever be your alpha and we his tribe, his people.

The Earth Mother pushed healing through our paws, fortifying our energy and curbing our hunger. Briefly we stopped alongside a stream to drink our fill before once again we hurrying on. The urgency road us as we ran over field, through sleepy towns, across grassy plains, and entered foreign woods. We were close now and we hoped we would arrive in time.

We threw our voices into the wind. "We come to stand by your side. To be your shield. To hunt with you and take down your prey. To protect our people. We come, our Alpha, we come."

*~*~*

~Jory Swaine

I didn't know what had disturbed me from a sound sleep, but an itch between my shoulders forced me out of my room to prowl the dark house. For a couple of days now, I'd been sensing… I pushed my way out the back door, barely catching the screen before it slapped noisily against the frame, waking the whole house.

Before the tragedy that had taken Tristan away from us for half a year, he'd entrusted into my care the wolf forms of the traitors who'd attempted to murder him. Members of Tribe Uras collaborated with the rogue, Craig Stoiler, and invaded Tristan's ranch. I would've had them killed for their treachery but Tristan had another idea. He'd stripped the people of their human form, giving their wolf dominion. The demonstration of his power as the supreme alpha and prince of our people was used to prove his lineage to the doubting members of the Council of Five, but there was an additional reason for his actions. He'd given them a second chance, of sorts, and ordered some twenty-eight wolves to follow my commands as their handler.

Whatever type of transformation magic Tristan performed had a lasting effect. With the events that transpired had following his return, I didn't have a chance to relay to him I could still feel those wolves. He'd tied them to me that fate-filled day, not that I was upset. What I sensed of them was harmless, a simple awareness nestled in the back of my mind, telling me their state of being and general welfare… until now.

The stars shone sharp and bright overhead, the sky a virtual blanket of diamonds. The sight still made me catch my breath, especially after spending so many years in California where their light was muted. My eye was drawn to the northwest. The string attaching me to them pulled with their sense of urgency. They were coming and perhaps it was time I told Tristan about my relationship with them. Something caused the pack to leave their dens in the Canadian tundra. I wasn't sure if they were a portend of good or evil. For Tristan's sake, I hoped the banished members of Tribe Uras didn't intend to attack him a second time. I'd grown quite fond of the playfulness of their wolves in that corner of my mind, and I'd hate to be the one who sent them on to their next reincarnation.

Thank you for stopping by and reading!!

Really, I'm Not Slacking! Death Mask Excerpt

The blog has been quiet lately. Even my weekend wishlist has been absent. I've been really busy editing Werewolf's Tale and a Druid Sword, the second book in the ION series. The publisher sent the manuscript to me right before the New Year and it's sucked up all of my time.

This must be a writer thing, because there was a point where I wanted to print out the ms and have a bonfire in the backyard. ...okay, so there wouldn't have been that much paper for a true "bonfire", but still, the action would've been cathartic. I was very dissatisfied with the prose, but it was fixed and sent back recently.

Now, I'm working fast to finish up my Roughouse Raiders submission. Then, I can move on. But like I was telling a friend this past week, I'm now in the mood for the ION world. I have a partial standalone waiting for me. It is on the, "What Else I'd Like To Squeeze In" list. And if I'm in the mood, then perhaps it will be written faster, and it is already partially written... Hmmm. I'll see after I finish with the sub call. Right now, it feels like a very big, yes.

Actually there are a lot of projects that I would like to work on r.i.g.h.t. n.o.w. and unfortunately, I'm just not that talented to get it all done together. Plus, I promised myself that I would work in more family time, which makes me feel like I'm a slacker for not always working on something. :)

Saturday's wishlist posts will go back up this coming weekend. There are a couple of guests on the blog in February. Soon, I should have an update on Darksoul. In the meantime, I'll leave you with an excerpt from Death Mask. Enjoy!

Death Mask
© Lexi Ander

Blood.

When I went to ask what the fuck he was waiting for, Night placed a pale finger over his lips, biding me to listen. The sound was faint, but the soft whines of some kind of dog or… Well, fuck me sideways.

"Someone find Hog and Lalios." My request was made in a low voice, but the brothers jumped to it as if I had yelled. Perhaps they could feel the tension coming off of me or they too scented the blood wafting from the back of the truck, now that the door had been raised.

More than one person drew a weapon. Grabbing the handrail on the side of the door, I readied to climb into the back.

"Misery," Night called to me softly, but I ignored him.

Even if werewolves had hidden in the truck, I didn't worry about my safety. The sound of the pitiful tiny snarls and growls intensified when my heavy boots struck the bed. Pausing to listen, I couldn't hear an adult werewolf voice among the pups. With the scent of blood heavier in the confines of the cabin, I could only surmise the parent was severely injured. A werewolf in pain was a dangerous creature, more animal than man. Blinded by the agony, instinct would take over, and he, or she, would attack first to protect their young. If that were to happen, then I was the only one of the brothers best equipped to handle the werewolf. Sure, I could be hurt like anyone else, but I was very hard to kill. Living for over two hundred years had proven that.

Listening intently, I could make out three, perhaps four distinct voices which was surprising. Nowadays, werewolves lived much longer than they did five hundred years ago. When they became the stuff of folklore, instead of legends, people stopped hunting them. Living a more peaceful existence, the number of litters they had dropped off to where now pups were born singly to couples every hundred years or so. Now more than ever, the young were precious to the packs. That there were four together here made my skin crawl with foreboding. This just kept getting fucking better and better.

Gabbing a box, I crouched and handed it over to Nightingale. Several brothers jumped forward to help. Before Hog and Lalios hurried onto the loading dock, I had removed several rows of merchandise, uncovering a pocket. When I removed a box near the ceiling, instead of another box behind it, there was only darkness. The scent of blood was stronger, sharp and metallic…and fresh.

The angry frightened growls didn't sound menacing, but I still moved with caution, alert to any additional noises to tell me whether or not the adult was conscious. I didn't want to lose fingers—or an arm—while removing the last of the barrier between me and the werewolves.

Hog, the club's doctor, and the only hedge witch, hopped into the bed, his nose wrinkling in distaste. His short dark hair dripped as if he jumped out of the shower and neglected to dry off. He wasn't wearing his cut, the leather vest that held motorcycle club's patch. Hog was a big man whose lazy rolling stroll and the size of his gut caused people to underestimate him. Lord help the poor bigot who called him fat. The last arsehole who did spent two months in the hospital.

"What the—"

Hog didn't get to finish because Lalios leaped and landed in a crouch in the back of the truck. With hair almost as red as my own, but whereas mine was long and wiry, his was short and artfully spiked. The visible scars on his person and an intensity of power made humans and preternaturals alike give the half-werewolf a wide birth. The only exception were full-blooded werewolves who felt they had to test the alpha power rolling off the "half-breed". Lalios never lost. Even so, the packs shunned him because of his mongrel status, but neither could he build a pack of his own.

The tiny snarls turned to high whines which Lalios answered with one of his own. "Well, shit," Lalios rumbled when the pups went quiet. "Let me, Misery."

I stepped back and Lalios removed the last two layers of boxes to reveal a fucking nightmare. There on the floor lay a man, not an adult werewolf. His back was to us, but the blood pooled around him and soaking his clothing allowed no doubts where it came from. The pups paced between us and the man, tripping over the long dreads, tracking the blood all over the front of the end of the box truck. With that much blood loss, the man should have been dead, but I could see the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Then I felt the hint of passive magick, sensed several threads of life intertwined. "Motherfucker," I said under my breath. The club didn't need this kind of trouble knocking on our door. The packs would demand a life for this broken law.

"Lalios, did those little ones do what I think?" After all of these years being away from the land of my birth, the Irish accent I worked hard to hide emerged when my emotions ran into overdrive—like now.

He crouched, but the pups didn't make a move toward him. Instead, they huddled closer to the unconscious figure. In fact, inhaling deeper, I caught the whiff of a specific magick I hadn't run across in quite some time—with good reason.

I smelled a warlock.

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Revella Hawthorne's New Release: The King's Command w/Giveaway

Welcome to Revella Hawthorne to the blog for her new release on August 15th for The King's Command, the second installment to her Bred for Love series.

Title: The King’s Command

Series: Bred For Love #2

Author: Revella Hawthorne

Release date: August 15th 2015

Blurb: Percy is pregnant. He is overjoyed, and Prince Edward, his master and owner, is just as happy. Both men are content, and are enjoying the simple life at Hartgrove, Prince Edward's country estate. There they stay in pre-baby bliss, until the christening of the Cassian Dynasty's newest princeling approaches. Prince Edward decides to risk King Henry's wrath, and brings Percy back to the capital to attend his nephew's christening, putting his and Percy's unconventional relationship front and center in the media and the court. Greed and betrayal combine to place Percy and their unborn child in danger, and the capital, once a place of power and strength for Prince Edward, becomes a prison. Percy is confronted by the reality of his social status and what exactly it means to be the collared consort of a Cassian blood prince--and how dangerous that place of honor can be.

Caught between the orders of King Henry and the dangers to be found in Court and city, Percy and Edward strive to protect themselves, their love, and their unborn child.

Links: Goodreads | Amazon

The King’s Command Excerpt 

He pulled the sheet up to Percy’s chin, and smoothed it down over his chest and stomach. He rested his hand on Percy’s abdomen, amazed as he always was when he thought about it, that his child grew inside his mate. A child, his and Percy’s.

Percy was a breeder, and Edward mourned for a brief second that his mate’s ice-blue eyes or sweet smile would never be gifted to a child of theirs, his consort’s DNA only minimally transferrable to any offspring he may have. The vision of a little girl, with Edward’s dark hair and Percy’s bright eyes flashed for a moment in his mind, but he pushed it away. Percy would gift their child only enough DNA to be viable and grow, and his smile or entrancing eyes would never be handed down to a new generation.

Yet it was enough that there would be children; Percy had a tender heart, and a need to love. Edward wanted sons and daughters, the more, the merrier, and he knew Percy would want and love each child with everything in his small frame. This first child of theirs would not be the last. Hartgrove Court was a huge estate, a working farm and manor, and large enough to support a big family and plenty of staff. It had been gifted to Edward through his late mother’s dowry upon her death, property given to all her children not in the direct line of succession. Edward was thankful his mother knew him well, since the manor and farm went to him and not his more urban-centered siblings. Edward felt a pang of grief, faint now after all these years that his mother, the late Queen of Cassia, would never know her future grandchildren.

Edward made himself leave Percy’s side, the doctor’s words to him about how Percy’s pregnancy may come with complications worrying him. Since Percy was a first-generation design, crafted by the late Master Cartwright of Heritage Breeders, there was no blueprint of sorts in place for how Percy would handle pregnancy. Cartwright had made Percy for himself, though Edward was selfishly glad that Cartwright died before Percy was mature enough for breeding. Percy was his now, forever, and the only touch he would know would be Edward’s.

*~*~*~*~*

Have you read the beginning? Do you know where the series started?

Title: The Prince's Consort

Series: Bred For Love #1

Author: Revella Hawthorne

Release date:April 21, 2015

Blurb: In a world where humans are genetically designed, altered and sold for sexual pleasure and breeding, a young prince of the powerful Cassian Dynasty decides to take a mate and sire heirs. Not wishing to saddle himself with royal and meddlesome in-laws, and a wife he would have no desire to bed, Prince Edward goes to Heritage Breeders, and finds far more than just a warm body to sate his lust and carry on his lineage.

Percy is the result of a master DNA architect designing himself his own personal sex slave and breeder. Yet when his creator and Master dies, leaving Percy alone at the mercy of the callous stable masters and the new owner of Heritage, he fears his future. Afraid he'll be bought by a wretched old man or a deviant monster, Percy is terrified when he is dragged from his cell and presented to the most prestigious client Heritage has ever welcomed...a Cassian Royal.

Prince Edward is immediately infatuated with the shy, nervous and enchantingly beautiful Percy, and claims him for his own. Yet not everyone is pleased by a royal purchasing a breeder, especially one like Percy, and tensions rise both in Heritage and in the palace.

Torn between desire, duty, a king's command and the innermost desires of their hearts, Edward and Percy are set on path that is anything but easy. Can Percy trust Edward with his heart as he does his body? Can Edward keep an angry king and unseen enemies away from the young slave who is steadily stealing his heart?

And what happens when Nature takes its course, and sex leads to more than just pleasure?

A 50k+ word novella, 160 pages, book one in a series. 18+ adult readers, contains sexual situations of male/male sex. Lots of sex. Collaring, master/slave.

*Updated and Revised*Links: Goodreads | Amazon  

The Prince’s Consort Excerpt

“I would prefer a male, smaller than me, handsome, with a degree of intelligence and personality. I’m not interested in having sex with someone who’s no more than an attractive machine that bends over on command, so please take intelligence into account. Although, I do prefer some obedience, as I will be breeding my prospective mate often, so having to seduce or force holds little appeal. I have no need for my mate to have fertile sperm, as I will not be the one carrying the offspring, of course. And I don’t feel like explaining to my staff why my breeder is mounting the maids when I’m not around.”

Edward listed off his requirements, watching as Mr. Wimble slowly stopped typing, and began to stare at him in some consternation. Edward wasn’t going to apologize for that last statement, either. He’d seen the results of an unruly and fully fertile male breeder decimate the staff at one of the estates neighboring his out in the country, knocking up several of the maids and female upper staff that had contact with him. His neighbors eventually had him removed after it was discovered what was going on, and Edward never found out exactly what was done to the breeder, but he could guess he wasn’t at some farm working the fields. Castration and slavery, or death. That type of breeder was one of the very rare, non-child-bearing male breeders, called ‘sires’, who were hyped up with testosterone and temperamental, usually used by the breeding houses to continue the in-house stock lines. Edward wondered at the time how the breeder ended up out in the country at a noble’s family estate, but the current Court was full of fools, so he really shouldn’t be surprised.

He had strict needs he wanted met. Any potential mate would be the parent of his future children, so slacking on the finer details wasn’t an option. Not for a royal, and not for him.

“I have several candidates that may fit your needs, Your Highness. Are you interested in viewing today? I can have them pulled from the stables within the next hour for your inspection if you care to wait. Shall I summon a maid for luncheon?”

*~*~*~*

About the Author

Revella Hawthorne is an erotica author and fanfiction addict who enjoys putting the naughty visions in her head down on paper, and then giggling feverishly while watching people read them for the first time. (The initial reaction NEVER gets old!) Thank goodness for her betas, otherwise she'd have no barometer for just how delicious her stories actually are.

Where to find her: Amazon | GoodReads | Facebook

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thank you for stopping by and reading!!

Playing Catch-Up With a Small Excerpt from Dragon's Eye (Sumeria's Sons, #5)

While Darksoul was out with beta readers last week, I began going through the edits for Dragon's Eye. It has been sitting on my computer patiently waiting for me since the beginning of July.

I was a little nervous about these edits because 1) it's not a re-release and so the edits wouldn't be as easy as the first four books in the series. 2) This is the first story I wrote after my father passed and I remember crying all of the time while I wrote the first half. I also remember that it was hard for me to put words on the page but I made myself do it. Shoot I had conversations during that time, to this day I still don't recall them. For a combination of reasons, I began to wonder if I shouldn't have held onto the manuscript for a couple of months after I thought I was finished.

So unease was eating at me when I opened the manuscript and started going through the editor's comments. Last month I reworked and extensively extended Ruby Red Booty Shorts and A Louisville Slugger. I feared I'd find the some of the same problems here. With the way my summer was going I wasn't going to discount anything.

But it seems that Chapter 4 is the problem child and that is where I've spent the last several days. Lots of confusion and the order of events that gave important information was screwy. I ended up extending the chapter to fix all of the problems and I think I have it taken care of. I passed over into Chapter 5 yesterday, so with luck the rest will be smoother to go through.

I'm not happy with some of the writing in other sections. I hear that is a common author thing but it doesn't mean I have to like it. So I'm tweaking as I go along because really, sometimes I use twice the number of words to say something really simple. This annoys me and I need to break myself of the habit. ^_^

If you're wondering what the release date for Dragon's Eye will be, October 7th. The other day I got to peek at cover... very cool, you guys. Very cool.

So I'm going to cut my rambling off and leave you for a small excerpt from Dragon's Eye from Ushna's POV. Enjoy!

Tristan grappled with me trying to get away, and somehow, I knew if he escaped, he'd be lost to me. All the anger I'd packed away at the injustice of what happened—to Tristan, to our family; Theo's betrayal, false Twin Flames, assassins, even the unfairness of Brian's untimely death—all the rage that had been bubbling under the surface seethed within me at the thought of losing Tristan, after being so patient and working so hard to have him in my life.

Now, he walked a tightrope between his many lives, and even though Tiamat had returned him, I may yet still lose him to the insanity of the lives that had come before. When his parents had died, I waited to tell him that I loved him. I returned to college to finish my degree. After graduation, I arrived home only to discover he'd met his Twin Flame. I tried to be happy for him, for the gift he'd been given, but I scented he hadn't been claimed by Theo and watched how unhappy he steadily grew. I waited. Looking back, I should've stepped forward and fought for him then, but I believed they'd eventually balance out and I'd spend my life hating Theo for having what I wanted.

And yet, they hadn't balanced and Theo's actions had actually freed Tristan. I took him, barely alive and breathing, from Tribe Enkidu, from the family and people who didn't see him. No one did. Only me, it was only ever me—and perhaps Brian—who'd really seen Tristan. I became his anchor, his touchstone, taking care of him until he could do so himself.

Years. I spent years being patient, waiting, yearning, watching until the day he'd seen me. He finally claimed me, but really, I'd been his all along. Even at the beginning, believing Brian was my Twin Flame and that one day I'd claim him, he and I always spoke of making a life together with Tristan. Now I knew we were more than Twin Flames and someone had spent hundreds of years trying to keep us apart. Once again, here we were with one more thing attempting to put a wedge between us, only this time it was the memories of what once was.

*~*~*

Thank you for stopping by and reading!!

Darksoul, An Excerpt

Officially, I'm on vacation for the next eight days or so. So I thought that while I'm gone, I'd leave you with an excerpt from the 2nd DRitC story that I picked up from the M/M Romance group over at GoodReads.

The excerpt is rough and unedited. I just didn't have time. Hopefully it's not too terrible. ^_^

Excerpt:

PROLOGUE

Prince Valiant flinched. The bark of the tree next to him exploded, the splinters embedding into his exposed skin. That his pursuers weren't trying to actually kill him was little comfort as he gasped for breath and pushed off the tree he sheltered behind and ran as fast as he could. His energy was flagging but if he pushed himself a little harder he might be able to make the field where more of his men waited with the gliders.

The babe he clutched to his chest hadn't made a sound since Prince Valiant had picked him up. Had the child died, making this escape through the forest unnecessary? His keen hearing saved him once again as he ducked and spun left. The stunner blast missing him. Had all of his bodyguards fallen to the Elffin ones of Nella? He heard those behind him but he couldn't risk stopping and checking to see if they were there of if the Nella people had succeeded in removing them.

He couldn't believe he was running through the Jade Forest from his wife's people. The Elffin ones were a peaceful race. The marriage between his people, the Chandarians who represented the Pantherine and the Felinean races, and the Elffin ones of Nella who represented the Edrijan country, was an age old tradition that began with a peace treaty. Prince Valiant wasn't in love with Talia of Nella, Keeper of the Jade Forest, but he'd been fond of her and valued her friendship. That she became pregnant within the first year of their nuptials was considered a good sign from the Gods. On the eve of the birth of their child, they'd left the capital of Wuxbury and traveled to Talia's homeland so the babe would be born near the forest.

All had gone well, or so Prince Valiant thought, until the babe was born and Talia's attendants fled the room wailing in sorrow. He'd been waiting in the hallway outside the chambers, anxiously waiting for word of his first born when Talia's attendants burst for the room and brushed by him in their haste to leave. Heart squeezing in his chest, he rushed into the birthing chamber, sure the child had passed through the veil only to discover the boy alive, whole and seemingly hail.

"No, Valiant. Don't touch him." Talia choked, her hand held up beseechingly. She was propped up on a mound of pillows in the bed, her face lined and drawn, ravaged by grief, and her cheeks painted with her silver tears.

He glanced back into the bassinet, and the boy's unusual gaze caught and held his. His unnaturally gray eyes were encircled by a brilliant red ring matching the crimson color of his already thick mane. Other than the boy's coloring, pointed ears, and the slightly tilted angle of his Elffin shaped eyes, the babe had Pantherine features. Retractable claws, ridges down the bridge of his nose, and a long slender tail was evidence of Valiant's side of the family.

Valiant sensed the power of an alpha with his son, which pleased him mightily. But he also felt something else stir in the boy. Eyes widening, he glance back up to Talia, the pride he felt was evident in his voice when he said, "He has magic."

Talia cried harder.

"I don't understand." There was nothing wrong with the child that he could sense, why was Talia and her household filled with sorrow?

"He is Feyborn." Talia's voice broke and she choked on a sob.

He remembered Taila speaking of the treasured Feyborn, coddled and spoiled, given everything they wanted until the child chose to become a druid or ranger. Occupations of great importance to the Efflin ones because they were the healers, the ones who brokered peace and settled disputes.

"This is a good thing," Prince Valiant argued. "Why are you upset?"

Talia shook her head. "He was also born drow. Feyborn are always drow females, never drown males. All the males know is violence and war and blood. He—it—is an abomination. Father will fetch the druid and she will take it away."

Talia's words shocked him to the core. Chandarians were a warrior people. No, they didn't conquer and kill blindly, but were chosen to police the races of the galaxy. Fighting was what they did, who they were, and to hear the disgust in Talia's voice as she described their child wounded him—and started the flame of anger that burned through his veins.

His voice held a dangerous edge when he asked her, "How can you say that? You are married to a Chandarian knight. There is no equal to our battle prowess. How can you think to murder a child for carrying the qualities of his father?"

His bodyguards had crowed into the room and their growls of displeasure and offense caused Talia to pale. "No, Valiant, please. You don't understand. Feyborn are touched by magic at birth. They are in tune with all life but when it touches a male drow, the gift is warped. No good comes from any Feyborn male. Allow my father to handle it. Walk away Valiant because you don't understand our ways. Nothing you say can change his fate." Talia moved slowly across the bed, attempting to stand but she fell back, moaning in pain.

Drow males did tend to keep to themselves and often suffered from wanderlust and had more alpha qualities than any of the Elffin race, but Valiant didn't understand why Talia was concerned. He glanced back down to babe. They hadn't deemed him worthy enough to clean completely but his dusky skin was evident. Elffin drow bore the skin of a dark gray to that of the deepest black. Valiant's own skin was deep gray therefor the tone of his son's surely came from Valiant, and if not, he still didn't see a cause for the Elffin ones to commit infanticide.

"Have you forgotten that his is blood of my blood? I get a say, Talia, whether you like it or not." He swaddled the babe as his mother had taught him and cradled the child in his arms, against Talia's pleas to leave him be. The boy watched him with wide eyes and Valiant couldn't help but to think that his son's hair was the color of blood. He forced the thought away, refusing to allow Talia's belief to infect him.

She made a wounded noise when he moved to the doorway carrying the child. "No, you cannot take him."

He didn't meet her gaze for she lacked the honor he once thought she had. He'd thought he knew her, and although he didn't love her, he had believed they were friends. How could he not have known she would persecute an innocent?

"Feyborn males were responsible for the Scarab War. The destruction they caused, the lives that were lost, all can be laid at their feet." Talia said quickly, as if she were desperate for him to stay.

The Scarab War was some five hundred years before, and yes the magic used by the different factions took many lives before the Chandarian's could step in and put a stop to the fighting. "I know my history well, Talia, and I know that drow females were just as responsible for the devastation that was wrought. If this is how all Elffin ones treat their Feyborn males then perhaps your king should be made aware."

Valiant strode out of the room, ignoring Talia's pleas to come back. He didn't have much time because he squandered so much talking to Talia when he should've been fleeing to where his hovercraft awaited. He ran, his bodyguards forming a shield behind him. The Elffin ones didn't condone violence, usually. That they used stunners told him they only wished to stop him. If they did then the child would surely die and he couldn't allow that.

So he ran through the Jade Forest to where the road stopped and his hover craft waited. He wanted to get up in the trees, the panther in him would make better time there if he wasn't carrying a burden, no matter how small. Not that it mattered. He was in the Elffin one's territory where they were more familiar with these woods. Instead, he relied on his speed and reflexes to keep him ahead of his pursuers.

Never had he been so relieved to see a flash of tail in the bows ahead. Jumping over a downed tree, Prince Valiant veered in that direction, barely missed being hit a half dozen times. He dared not glance up otherwise giveaway his brethren to his pursuers. The startled yelps and angry yowls was the only indication that some of those who chased him had been stopped or at least temporarily delayed.

Breaking through the trees into the clearing where all of the vehicles sat, those who'd been left to watch the hovercrafts jumped to their feet and raced to meet him. The captain in charge barked out orders and half the males ran past Prince Valiant to assist his bodyguards. He prayed none had been accidentally injured. He heard the cursing of a few of his fighters. They were only allowed to carry stunners in Elffin territory and they had no idea what danger awaited them in the jungle.

"Who pursues you?" the captain asked, his sharp gaze scanning the tree line behind Valiant.

"Talia's people," he gasped out, slowing to a trot. "They wanted to kill my son."

The knights crowded around him, firm hands on his arms and shoulders as he was hustled into the back of a hovercraft. Four guards followed him into the vehicle before the shield was engaged and the driver turned around, heading back toward the capitol. He wasn't surprised by their hisses or warning growls. Children were cherished and protected. So few were being born in the last hundred years and no one could pinpoint why.

By degrees, Valiant relaxed. He turned to stare out the back. The remaining guards and knights exited the Jade Forest at a lazy run, none of the Elffin ones following. Satisfied they were fairly safe, he returned to his seat and lay the babe in his lap. Gently he unwrapped the blanket swaddling the infant. One of the guards retrieved container of cleanwipes and Valiant slowly did what Talia's attendants had not and cleared away the remains of the afterbirth. Bright eyes stared up at him and Valiant sucked in a breath at how beautiful his son was. When the guards leaned in to have a look, he lifted his son for all to see, amazed the child hadn't cried at all.

For the life of him, Valiant didn't understand how Talia or her people thought they could harm his heir. He would relay to his father, their king, how the Elffin ones treated Feyborn drow males. They would put a stop to the insanity, and if need be, find worthy Chandarian families to take in children.

"What will you call him, Your Highness?"

Valiant's smile broadened as he said, "I will name him Sunder for he is beautiful."

Thank you for stopping by and reading!!

Guest Post: After The End by Sara York; Interview, Excerpt, Giveaway

Hey guys! Sara York has stopped by today on her blog tour for her new release, After The End. I'm so excited to have her here and she's graciously answered a few burning questions for me. Pull up a seat and don't forget to enter the giveaway!!


Of all of your books that I have read, I don't recall you ever writing in a dystopia world. What inspired you? 

I love disaster movies. I think my love of disaster flicks has twisted through all of my writing in some way or another. Even when I write romance, I try to slip in some danger. It’s that surprise and lack of control the characters experience in a disaster movie that I love.

Most dystopias that I've seen tend to jump the restructuring of society, starting further into the timeline where the world is more stable. From what I can tell, After The End begins right after the society collapses. What were the challenges writing in such world? 

I wanted to focus on the guys in the story and their lives. In writing, I had to think about what could go wrong. What if everyone was dead? How many of the services we depend on would disappear. Once I started writing it was shocking how many things would change if everyone was gone.

What type of research goes into building a dystopia world? 

I’ve always loved dystopia stories so I’ve been studying dystopian societies for a long while. I loved the scene and setting from I Am Legend, though I didn’t like the plot of the film. They did a great job figuring out what would happen if everyone died. It’s that type of research that goes into building a world that is After The End. When there aren’t people to run power plants, deliver groceries, make clothes, then everything will be different. Add to it the fact that the dead are infectious in After The End and none of the stores are accessible. William and Dean have to learn to survive in the wilderness, getting their food and water from the land.

As a reader, I love reading dystopias for the struggle, how desperate times changes a character for good or bad. How difficult was it to balance the romance and the fight for survival? 

Since both characters are young, the fight to survive isn’t as desperate for them because they believe they are invincible. That lack of fear gives them the courage to move forward and focus on their relationships, not the situation.

In reality, people may survive a virus outbreak but the likelihood they will endure for a long period after the upheaval is very small because people don't have the necessary survival skills. What makes William and Dean better able to meet such circumstances and have a better chance than others? 

These guys have a lot of luck on their side. Also, they don’t know that they should give up. The younger the person, the more likely they can adapt and since William and Dean are eighteen, they adjust very well to the situation and learn what they need to survive.

I've sorta overdid the dystopia questions. Is there something else you would like to add about After The End? 

This story is more than just another disaster book, it’s romance, coming of ages, and taking responsibility for their lives. William and Dean have a lot against them before the end, after, they must come together to survive. I want readers to see how beautiful their relationship can be when they give into their attraction and become more than just friends with benefits.

Thank you for stopping by, Sara!!

*~*~*~*

After The End Book Info:

Publisher: Sara York (September 29, 2014)
Pages: 182 pages
Genre: MM, Romance

After The End Blurb:

With international flights crisscrossing the skies on an hourly basis, are we ever really safe?

When a strain of the Ebola virus mutates; it spreads quickly leaving the medical community shattered. People are dropping in the streets and life, as most know it, comes to an end. Two city dweller survivors, Dean and William, are forced to flee the city and live in the wilderness—where dangers lurk behind every tree and in every valley. Not everyone alive after the end is good, and William and Dean are faced with challenges that would bring many to their knees.

Growing up in the hood of Atlanta, Dean knows how to overcome trials, but he knows nothing of love. Can he sustain a relationship with William, or will his doubts end them before they even have a chance?

From birth William has had a silver spoon in his mouth and two in each hand, but the end brings him face to face with reality where he has to take responsibility for his life. After the end, money has no meaning, and life is lived on the edge.

Join William and Dean after the end and find out how close to the edge they come.

After The End Buy Links: Amazon | Amazon UK

*~*~*~*

After The End Excerpt:

Dean searched through the cabinets, looking for gloves and a mask, but he found nothing. He’d have to go out without any real protection and take his chances. That scared him. What if someone touched him that was sick?

The windows were covered with thick curtains that were older than dirt. When he pushed them aside, dust rained down on him. He sneezed and blew bits of dust particles off his hands before rubbing a spot clean on the window, allowing him to peer out. The streets were empty. Not that many people would be out in this weather, but he was expecting to see some people out milling around.

If he raced out of his house right now, he might avoid the rush to the store.

Or had that already happened? He let the curtains close as he thought about his options. It would be better to leave now and head out. It sounded like the longer he waited the more people would be infected.

Dean went to his room and grabbed a pair of knit gloves and a scarf he’d been given last school year when the staff realized he didn’t have winter clothes. It wasn’t the same as a mask and plastic gloves, but it would have to do. He pulled on his hoodie and made his way to the front door, pausing to take a deep breath. There was no way to prepare for going out into the world when a plague was ravaging the people, but his options were limited.

He pulled open the door when a dark gray SUV pulled up in front of his house. It looked expensive. He froze, unsure if he should go back inside or stand his ground. The driver’s door popped open and William stepped out, coming around the front of the car.

“Oh God, you scared me. What are you doing here?” Dean called out.

“Have you come in contact with anyone else?” William asked.

Dean shook his head. “Just at your party, that’s it. What about you?”

“No,” William shouted.

“What if someone at your party was sick?”

William shrugged and took a step closer. “We won’t touch.”

He glanced around, staring up at the gray sky. “Why are you here?”

“You should come with me. This is going to get crazy real quick. My parents—”

William let out a sob before he straightened, his lips curved down in a frown.

“They’re gone. It’s going to be bad. Please, come with me.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Please. We have a fence surrounding the property. It will be safer. We can protect each other.”

Dean looked around. His parents hadn’t come home and they were probably dead. If they ended up being okay, they’d do something stupid to get him sick. He didn’t want to die.

He nodded quickly. “I need to grab some stuff. Stay with the car and keep the doors locked. I’m just going ro get a few clothes and some money.”

“I have lots of clothes,” William said, his voice higher than normal.

“You’re a little shorter than I am and you weigh more.”

“Fine, but move quickly, we don’t have much time.”

“Got it.”

Dean raced back inside his house and grabbed his school backpack, emptying the contents on this bed. If they survived and life returned to normal, he’d come back and get his books. He shoved the money William had given him to the bottom of the bag then grabbed some shirts out of his closet, shoving them in, not worrying about wrinkles. Next, he took a few pants off the hangers and pitched them in the bag. After grabbing his clothes, he went to the bathroom and packed his toothbrush, deodorant, and comb into the bag, looking around for anything else he needed.

There were so many things he could take, but he didn’t need any of them.

The horn honked outside and he heard William yelling. There wasn’t anything here for him. He ran to the front door and pulled it open, seeing two guys banging on the driver’s side window. Dean ran back into the house to his mom’s room and opened the nightstand beside her bed, searching for the handgun he knew she kept there. The horn honked more and he heard tires squeal. He hoped he wasn’t too late.

Dean grabbed the gun and ran out the door to watch William race down the street before swinging a wide U turn, running over the weed packed lawns in the process. The car faced him and slowed to a stop. The two guys who’d tried to break into the car were running toward William. Dean lifted the pistol and fired. The guys froze and looked over their shoulder. He’d never aimed a gun at anyone, and he wasn’t a good shot at a target. He didn’t think he could actually shoot at these people if they rushed him, but they didn’t know that. William revved the engine on his car and the guys turned back to him.

“Leave us alone,” Dean called out just before William stepped on the accelerator, the tires squealing. The two guys dove out of the way as William swerved close, barely missing them before driving up onto the grass in front of Dean’s house.

Dean raced around the front of the car, dropping the gun on the ground as he ran. He almost went back for it but the guys were running at them. Dean heard the locks click just before he reached the door to open it. Dean slammed the car door and hit the lock button. William took off, the SUV bouncing as they dropped off the curb.

“Fuck, that was scary,” William said.

“Are you okay?”

*~*~*~*

Author Bio:

Author Bio Writing is Sara York's life. The stories fight to get out, often leaving her working on four or five books at once. She can't help but write. Along with her writing addiction she has a coffee addiction. Some nights, the only reason she stops writing and goes to sleep is for the fresh brewed coffee in the morning.

Sara enjoys writing twisted tales of passion, anger, and love with a good healthy dose of lust thrown in for fun.

Author Contact Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter

*~*~*~*

After The End Giveaway:

Rafflecopter runs from September 29th through October 28th ending at Midnight EST.

Grand Prize: $150 Gift card to Amazon, iBooks, B&N or ARe (Winners Choice) and a print copy of After The End
2nd Prize: Print copy of After The End
3rd Prize: ebook of a Sara York backlist book.

a Rafflecopter giveaway ​

Top Ten Reasons the #CampusCravings MM Bundle Rocks!

Hi everyone! We're the authors of Campus Cravings, a MM bundle releasing 8/25. Thanks so much for hosting us during our release week, or, if you're a reader, for taking the time to read this! We really appreciate it!

Top Ten Reasons to Check Out Campus Cravings:

1. College is a time of eye-opening exploration and experimentation, and there's just something about a Cathia University man...

2. All the stories take place at fictional Cathia University—where not even homework or grading stands in the way of true love.

3. What's better than one hot man? Two! And what's better than two? Eighteen! (Nine stories, each with two heroes, yay!)

4. The stories are interrelated, so you'll see characters from stories appear in others, notice many of the same buildings being used etc. That was a lot of fun for us to write and we hope you enjoy that aspect too!

5. Every story is brand new! That's over 220k words! Four seasons of academic fun—from the first students arriving in Fall, to winter holidays, to March Madness and Spring Flings, to Summer loving—there’s something for every part of the academic year.

6. Unique pairings—whether you like friends-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers, reunion romances, May-December pairings, first love, or hot-for-teacher flirtations, you are bound to find some of your favorite tropes! And if that's not enough, there are hot athletes, sophisticated professors, activist heroes, and lots more!

7. Sports galore—soccer, hockey, basketball, equestrian and more! Join the authors and the characters as we root for the Cathia Cougars!

8. Pranks, parties, and plenty of fun—you really want to find out who dyed the fountain red and who’s at Friday’s Frat party!

9. Fan favorite m/m romance authors including L.A. Witt, Sara York, Cassandra Carr, Annabeth Albert, Bianca Sommerland, Whitley Gray, Dalton Diaz, Mia Downing, and KyAnn Waters.

10. Only $2.99 for a limited time!

To find out more information about Campus Cravings, including buy links, check out our group at https://www.facebook.com/groups/299579866886134/. 

Add us to your to-be-read list on Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22738703-campus-cravings.

If you'd like to help us out, here are a couple of Tweets you can just copy and paste into your account. Additionally, feel free to use these for Facebook or just share the entire post through Facebook and Twitter with the social media buttons on the blog!

New MM bundle #CampusCravings on sale for limited time & feat @Cassandra_Carr @kyannwaters @miadowning007 & more http://on.fb.me/1ozYey2

Do you love MM romance? Chk out #CampusCravings! @SaraYork @GallagherWitt @AnnabethAlbert & more! http://on.fb.me/1ozYey2

It's back to school time with #CampusCravings, MM bundle on sale w/ stories from @DaltonDiaz @whitleygray & more! http://on.fb.me/1ozYey2

Out now! 9 interrelated college-themed M/M novellas from fan fave authors! #CampusCravings http://on.fb.me/1ozYey2

#BacktoSchool! 2.99 for 9 college-themed novellas from top M/M authors @SaraYork @DaltonDiaz @AnnabethAlbert & more! http://on.fb.me/1ozYey2

Hot for teacher? Check out #CampusCravings! Orig novellas from @GallagherWitt @kyannwaters @SaraYork & more! http://on.fb.me/1ozYey2

Love college sports? #CampusCravings M/M box set w/stories from @Cassandra_Carr @AnnabethAlbert @miadowning007 http://on.fb.me/1ozYey2

An excerpt from The Eloquent Jock...by Cassandra Carr

Brendan’s mouth dropped open. “Want…me?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” I am so screwed, and not in a good way. A headache began to take hold and he moved his hand to massage harder.

“Look at you,” Brendan waved a hand in Scott’s general direction. “You’re gorgeous, you’re successful, you’re sophisticated. I’m just some confused shmuck who’s never even kissed a guy.”

“Never?” I should not care about this. I need to stop. No good can come of this.

Brendan’s face bloomed red. “No. I’m not the type to walk into some gay bar and pick up a guy. Just the thought of it kinda makes me want to puke.”

“Not everyone is interested in that lifestyle.”

“Are you?” Brendan shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t have the right to ask you that. I know I’m making an ass of myself right now, I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” Scott dug himself deeper with every word, but he couldn’t stop.

Brendan clenched his fists on the desk, tapping his knuckles. Meanwhile, his right leg bounced and the poor kid looked as if he would self-combust from the red suffusing his face.

After a moment of charged silence, Brendan said, “So, you want me, but can’t have me.”

“Right.”

“Well, you’re the first guy I’ve ever wanted. I’ve known about my sexuality for a while now, but this is the first time I’ve met somebody who actually interested me beyond a casual attraction. And this sucks. I’m distracted; I can’t do my schoolwork; I’m making mistakes on the ice. I can’t have this.”

Scott leaned against the window and asked, “Then what do you want to do?”

Brendan licked his lips and Scott’s treacherous gaze followed the movement. “This.” Before Scott could even react, Brendan had grabbed him and kissed him, sloppily pushing his tongue into Scott’s mouth even as Scott tried to force his muddled brain to catch up with the program. He moaned as Brendan’s strong arms came around his waist, pulling their groins together. For a guy with no experience, the man revved Scott up pretty fucking fast. His dick pushed against Brendan’s sizable erection. Brendan moaned and the back of Scott’s head bounced off the glass behind him as Brendan attacked his mouth with even more vigor.

The pain radiating through his skull brought Scott out of his trance. He shoved Brendan away—shit, the guy had some strength for a man his size—and retreated to the corner of the office. Brendan stood between him and the door or he would’ve bolted that way.

“We can’t do this,” he managed to gasp out. His body had a very different opinion, but Scott ignored his baser needs. Someone had to take charge and stop this madness.

“You said you wanted me.”

Scott blew out a loud breath through his nose. “That doesn’t mean we should do anything about it. In fact, it would be a lot safer for both of us if we didn’t.”

“Because you’re a professor?”

“Well yes, that. And I’m, what, fifteen years older than you?”

“You’re saying I’m just some dumb kid who doesn’t know any better?” Brendan began to turn away, but then spun back. “You responded to me. That might’ve been my first kiss, but I know what happened. You liked it.”

Putting up a hand in a placating gesture, Scott said, “I’m not denying anything, but enjoying a kiss and letting it go on are two different things.”

“I get it.” Scott tried to go on, but Brendan stopped him. “No, I do. I get it. I’m sorry.” Before Scott could stop him, he’d grabbed his bag off the chair he’d dumped it onto earlier, yanked open the door, and slipped through it. As he slammed the door behind him, Scott slumped to the floor.

“That went well, you jackass,” he muttered.

An excerpt from Switching Leads…by Mia Downing

John nodded slowly. “I never realized how you felt about me or my riding. I never believed…” He took a deep breath. “You told me you loved me, and then I found you in bed with Dean, and then the job…” He shrugged and looked away. “I never believed how you felt about me then. And I’ve been pissed for ten years.”

Finn swallowed, his heart hammering. “Now do you believe I felt that way?” He wasn’t going to ask if John believed he loved him still. Baby steps.

John’s gaze flickered from Finn’s eyes to mouth and back up again in a slow perusal that seared Finn’s skin. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely and leaned across the stool between them. His lips brushed Finn’s surprised ones in a gentle kiss.

He’d dreamed about this for so long—John’s acceptance of his apology—but never had it ended like this, with those firm lips sliding across his as if coaxing belief from the inside.

John withdrew and slid from his stool. He spun Finn’s seat a little and eased between Finn’s thighs, the beginning of an erection pressing against Finn’s zipper. Finn’s cock throbbed at the contact, his belly contracting with anticipation.

“I’m sorry,” John whispered, his pupils dilated, eyes hooded as he stared down into Finn’s eyes. His chest rose and fell rapidly against Finn’s.

“For what?”

“For being unprofessional. I’ve never kissed a co-worker before.” John bent and brushed Finn’s mouth in another kiss, this one a little longer with a touch of heat. Finn didn’t dare open his mouth and beg for tongue. In the past, Finn had ruled their sex life, had directed the kisses. The fact that John had switched leads on him was as heady as a bottle of good Bourbon.

“I promise I won’t tell,” Finn murmured when John lifted his lips.

John cupped the back of Finn’s head with his palm. “Good.”

An excerpt from Winning Bracket...by Annabeth Albert

“Hold up. If I filled out a bracket and mine beat yours, you’d do whatever I wanted? Like anything?”

“Sure.” Ollie shrugged, an insolent lift of surprisingly wide shoulders inside a too-big shirt. “I mean not all day. But sure, you want me to be a slave for an hour or something, I can take it.”

Ka-pow. The firecracker exploded, hot want raining down on Edwin, sparking against his skin. Anything. Ollie-as-slave images began to run on repeat in his brain, Ollie getting considerably less clothing with each pass. Edwin could ask for anything, and it would just be a joke to Ollie—a lark to be laughed over later, no more of a big deal than opening up with a can of silly string or shorting his sheets every night for a week.

Oh my god. Would it work? Could he use something like this—a stupid bet on stupid basketball—to exorcise the Ollie demons that had plagued him for years, all without having to admit how he felt about Ollie? Because while Ollie had been busy with the jock-crush-of-the-month plan, Edwin had been hung up on Ollie. For three and a half years. If a stupid bet could shake Edwin free, then it was worth having to learn something about basketball.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Yay!” Ollie clambered off the bed, springs squeaking as he hit the floor. “You’ll see. This is going to be a great couple of weeks! So what are we going to play for this week? If my bracket does better by Sunday night, you send an email supporting the next watch party and you show up. And if you win…”

“I want a kiss.” The words escaped Edwin before he could call them back, before he could temper them with logic or suppress them with reality.

Thank you so much to everyone who's supported us! We hope you enjoy the bundle!

~The Authors of Campus Cravings

Wrapping up Fate & Destinies

The one thing about hand writing the first draft that can be daunting is typing the manuscript when I finish. When I can, I will type up what has been written every couple of days, but when I'm going into that final stretch, and I can practically taste the finish line, I will push until it is complete.

When I returned from RainbowCon I wrote an estimated 20-30k in less than a week. I can only calculate a rough word count per page hand written, so I never quite know the real numbers until everything is typed up. I usually step away for a couple of days before I go back and enter the rest of the first draft into the computer. If I missed a point or something needs to be fleshed out, then it will be fixed as I type it up.

Last night Fate & Destinies was completed. The estimated 20-30k in reality was almost 40k giving the manuscript 106k total word count.

Now the behemoth is in the hands of the beta, and I wait on pins and needles for some kind of response. Last night I had a tough time sleeping because I kept going over the plot points, wondering if I should have added more here and there. I know better than to start any serious editing until I hear back, but sometimes it's hard--more so with this book.

Fate & Destines is the fleshed out version of the free story, Fated, that I wrote last summer for the GoodReads M/M Romance group. It was the second story I picked as an emergency prompt. Really, I had no business picking up the prompt because I knew zilch about historical Scotland, unless you count watching the movie Braveheart. Three days of research, plus what I could research as I wrote the story, was all the time that I had because it had to be finished in 14 days so I could to send it to an editor.

You may have seen a post or two about how I botched up the story because a good deal of my historical facts were completely wrong, wrong, wrong. I was so embarrassed. Regardless of the mistakes, Kevin and Lucy loved their story, and in the end, that was what mattered.

BUT. When I turned the story over, it had focused on Ewen and Roi's relationship, and getting them solid while leaving the overall plot unfinished. This gave me the chance to go back and fix the historical mistakes, straighten out what I didn't like about the way Ewen and Roi's relationship played out, as well as completing the overall plot.

So now with the manuscript ---> <--- close to being ready to send to an editor, I'm really nervous. I believe I have all the historical facts taken care of so that part isn't what worries me.

What I did was go a bit deeper into the archaic word usage, which is harder than it seems. Finding that balance where readers can read and enjoy the story, and yet, be able to indulge in little-used words and sentence structures. Now, I didn't go as deep as Paul Kingsnorth in his book The Wake. He used an updated version of old English that he dubbed "the shadow tongue". You have to read it out loud to understand it, or at least I did. It's beautiful, really, but freaking hard. Fate & Destinies isn't that deep but I'm afraid it will be one of those stories that the reader will either love or hate.

With the word count being what it is, the number of publishers who might be willing to take on the manuscript dwindled. The word usage may also be a stumbling block when it comes to subbing to a publishing house.

Last night at dinner, I was talking to my husband about possibly self-publishing Fate & Destinies. Even if the MS was accepted by a publisher in 90 days, the release date still wouldn't be until probably next year. The downside is editing, cover cost, and managing the third party postings. I don't know. I'm still thinking it over. I don't have to decide yet since it needs polishing, but I'll have to make a decision soon.

Well, I didn't intend to talk your head off without giving you a treat. Here's an unedited excerpt of Fate & Destinies. Maybe you can tell me if the language works or not! It is entirely possible I'm using some of these words wrong. :)

Excerpt of Fate & Destinies

Copyright 2014 Lexi Ander

I followed the foul men through the muddy streets, praying they noticed me not. They came in to town separately, biding their time as they awaited for others to arrive. The stench of sorcery clung to them, the smell of rot clinging to them speaking of a darkness I could smell even if I beheld it not. I dared not let them catch me watching. This be not the first time they came to me village, leaving a trail of innocent bodies behind. The first time I thought it be only coincidence, but the second time, the itch betwixt me shoulder blades ignited. The last time I felt so be when I were very small, and me village raided. I had heeded that niggle to be the only one spared whilst all others were slayed or taken off to the slavers.

Always the sorcerers came to the village and awaited for the fifth man. He reeked not of dark magic but his aura be stamped with the sign of an old curse. I recalled him well for that be the day sweet Iain came me, a crushing tragedy landing him in me care.

That day, many twelvemonths ago, dark magic had hung in the air around the sinking ship, the signs be there for anyone with a knowing eye to see. When the red-haired maiden surfaced with Iain, she came to me as if she knew I would be there. She placed the boy in me arms, and pushed me to the edge of the shore. When I glanced back she be gone.

I had carried Iain into the longhouse to get him warm. That be the first time I noticed the cursed man, though he seemed alone. Now, I be hard pressed to believe it be of no coincidence the boat sunk the day the cursed man came to the village. Since then, he continued to come back, seemingly searching from someone, if the bodies left in his wake be an indication of his purpose. It escaped me notice not that many of the victims be ones who had been in the longhouse with us that night. Every time he returned, worry lay heavy upon me over Iain's future well-being.

When the men arrived this time, the pinch betwixt me shoulders sharpened. I heard them asking about the sole survivor of the shipwreck four years back now. People be willing to talk, their tongues wagging about the blessed survivor, sweet Iain, not giving a thought to the strangeness of the outsider's questions. With haste, I packed a bundle of necessities, and with Iain in tow, we wove behind the buildings, peering around corners for a sign of the dark sorcerers. Iain said naught, staying close as if he knew we be the prey in a hunt.

We slipped down the road without another taking notice, and I ushered my boy into the forest, away from the village. When the road be no longer within view, I urged him to run. It be as if I could feel them coming, even though I espied them not. I ran until me legs burned, and then we ran more. I know not how Iain kept up upon his small legs, but he complained not.

Coming to a small glen we halted and leaned against an old tree. I dared not drop the bundle for I carried what we would need in the coming days of travel, if I only knew whence to go. Iain caught his breath and looked at me with eyes too old for one his age. He would not reach his majority for another couple of twelvemonths, but I would see him as the small boy pulled from the depths of the ocean evermore.

The sudden appearance of the old woman gave us both a fright. I clutched Iain to me, afraid he would be taken, but she made shushing noises, pointing a gnarled finger toward the opposite edge of the glen whence the five men stepped from the forest's canopy. Her cold hard fingers clutch me arm as if to keep me from running. I dared not whisper for I be rooted in place by fear, like a fat doe staring at the hunter waiting for the tip of an arrow to pierce me breast.

In me fright, I noticed not forthwith the shadows about us had lengthened until it be too late. The gloom enveloped Iain and me in a cool embrace. I espied not the old woman but her hand upon me arm turned dry and hot, reminding me we were not alone in the darkness.

The sorcerers walked by us as if we were not there. I smelled the stench of their bodies and beheld the sweat upon their brow. If I so desired, I could have reached out and plucked at their cloaks. Me brave Iain buried his face in me stomach, stifling any noise that would have given us away.

We awaited. Long after I lost sight of them moving through the forest, we remained hidden in the shadow of the tree. When I thought they be far away, I moved to step into the light, but Iain drew me sight, pointing a finger in time for me to see one, then two of the sorcerers step from the low brush not far away.

After that, we moved not until the sun set and the moon rose fat and heavy in the night sky. I had forgotten the grasp the old woman had upon me arm until she pulled us from the shadow. Instead of releasing me, she pulled me along a faint path in the forest. Now and again, she made us halt and hide among the trees. I saw and heard naught but refused to gainsay the woman who had saved Iain's and me.

All nighttide we walked, not daring to stop for too long. When we emerged from the forest we be leagues away from our village. A Viking longboat sat off shore, a campfire lit the beach. When I would have halted and hidden again, the old woman hailed the camp, dragging Iain and I behind her, albeit warily now.

Me poor Iain dozed upon his feet, and I held him close, attempting to stave off me own weariness whilst the woman haggled for passage. I know not why I trusted her, some say only a fool would. Since the red-haired maiden laid Iain in me arms, I have trusted no one. Me husband and babes were lost to the illness that swept through the village, leaving me behind, alone and bereft. I toiled, bidding me time, waiting for the reaper to claim me as well. When the boy came into me life I gave up the wait for now I had something—someone to live for, to protect.

Why would I trust the crone who had spoken not more than three words to me? When I be younger than Iain, I recalled this very same woman when came to the aid of me mother's mother. Naught about her had changed from the colour and cut of her dress to the tattered patches of her cloak. I know not if she be a goddess guised as the aged or one of the Christian angels the abbey monks bespoke of. All I knew, she gave us aid in evading the dark sorcerers.

"Passage be paid." Her face be lined by time, but her eyes were clear—and the same blue as Iain's. I noticed not the similarity afore. "They shall take you to an isle far to the north and you shall seek out a priest called Alric. Leave the boy at the temple and then go west upon a Viking route." A satchel be pressed into me hand afore she turned to leave.

Of a sudden I be afeard. Me home, the life I had would be forever gone once I stepped upon the Viking longboat. "Mother." Me throat closed over the word, revealing the turmoil I felt flutter in me breast.

She glanced not back but her steps slowed. "Be vigilant, Ebba. Continue to trust your eyes for they shall evermore show you what be true."

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