EXCERPT
I woke, screaming and kicking. It only took a few moments to
realize that I wasn’t gagged or in chains, the way I’d spent most of the past
two weeks, at the LoV’s mercy.
Mathias was the first one to come into
focus. He was signing to Bishop’s voice. You’re
all right, Jessa. Take a breath.
I did. And I realized I was holding
Mathias’s hand, his palm warm in mine. Holding it like we were lovers, like he
was my lifeline, my fingers curled through his. I stared at our hands, fisted
together, and I wondered if I’d ever understand any of this.
It’s a crazy time for everyone.
Bishop’s voice, Mathias’s free hand
signing. I stared into Mathias’s dark eyes and I saw more understanding there
than I ever had. “My grandmother would’ve reconsidered her stance on men for
you.”
Bishop laughed—it had been a long time
since I’d heard a real laugh—and he translated as Mathias signed, Grandmothers aren’t really my
type, but I’m guessing there’s a compliment in there
somewhere.
“Definitely.” I was flirting with the
violent angel in leather. Flirting.
After I’d thrown up in front of him.
After everything, I still felt the taut butterfly nerves in my belly. And
despite everything, I liked it.
He looked like the other bikers, thanks
to his tattoos, and there was a leather jacket on the seat next to me, although
it didn’t have the name of any biker club on the back of his jacket. Granted,
he drove a van and not a bike, but he had that air about him. Less vengeful and
outwardly cruel, but he hadn’t shied away from violence.
Neither had I. What was happening to
me? Were two weeks enough to turn me from a pampered girl into a fighter, or
had she always been there, waiting for the right time?
My grandmother liked to say that
necessity was the mother of invention. Until this moment, I’d never truly
understood what that meant.
GUEST POST
How I wound up being a New Adult author
by Stephanie Tyler
I’ve got an obsession with writing military men and men who ride
motorcycles. Have from my very first
Blaze (Hunt, a Navy SEAL who rides a Harley).
So when I got the idea for my Defiance series (Defiance and Redemption
are already out, and Salvation comes out in May of this year), it was simply a
matter of perfect timing.
I didn’t set out to purposely write a New Adult romance. I love the show Sons of Anarchy, but some of
my favorite episodes happen early in the series, when Jax and Tara reconnect
after many years apart. I wanted to know
more about them when they were younger—what they looked like when they first
fell in love. And then I started to
twist it together in my mind—like, what happens to the kids who grow up with
parents in a motorcycle club? What
happens, specifically, to the girls who grow up in that environment?
I wanted to write those girls at 18, 19, 20.
And then I threw my characters into the perfect storm and billed
it as, “Sons of Anarchy Meets The Apocalypse”.
Because for me, the MC dynamics and the women who marry into the culture
always presented a unique challenge.
Putting them in a crisis allowed me to recreate the MC a bit, but still
have the MC guys be their overbearing, alpha selves (because honestly, they’re
my favorite men to write about). And the
world I’ve created is a joy to hang out in for me while I’m writing it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times Bestselling author Stephanie Tyler
writes what she loves to read - romantic suspense novels starring
military heroes and paranormal romance novels novels starring warrior
heroes, all complete with happy endings. She also co-writes as Sydney
Croft. She lives in New York with her husband, her kids and her crazy
Weimaraner, Gus.
Wild Ones (The Lane #1)
by Kristine Wyllys
Bri Martin likes her skirts too short, her heels too high,
and trouble close at hand. So when big, brooding underground boxer
Luke Turner comes into the bar where she works and starts a fight before
she brings his first drink, she can't help being intrigued. Luke is
everything she never wanted and everything she can't resist.
Soon, Luke is showing up everywhere Bri is, and she can't break
free of his hold on her, nor does she want to. When her best friend turns
on her, it's Luke who is there. When Luke's opponent comes after her
to send Luke a message, it's he who comes to her rescue.
Before Bri knows it, she's caught in the midst of a rivalry
between her boyfriend and her boss, both of whom are not content to settle
their scores inside the ring. She swore she'd never live this life,
so like the one she once ran from. But only by confronting her past can
she decide where her future lies…and whether Luke can be a part of it.
EXCERPT
We were all still in our uniforms, and during the week, it
was what set us apart from one another, made us competitors in a race for
drunken sales. But on Sundays, it was what brought us together. We were
comrades, we gatekeepers of legal sin, the ones who contributed to society’s
moral decline. We were the ones who enabled bad decisions, one-night stands,
breakups. We helped customers drown sorrows, celebrate victories, nurse torn
hearts. We saw people at their best and their worst, sometimes in the same
night. Sometimes in the same moment. Night after night we were everyone’s best
friends until closing time, and on Sundays we grouped together in a small
apartment overlooking the Lane, our sinful kingdom, and compared stories over
our own drinks.
I was throwing back shots with the new bartender from
Sharkie’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to find Fury standing
there and behind him, a smirk on his face, was none other than Dark and
Brooding Luke Turner.
“Got
someone here who wants to meet you, Bri-baby.” Fury was smiling in a
conspiratorial kind of way.
“Oh yeah?”
I arched an eyebrow at Brooding Turner.
“This is my
boy Luke. Good man, Luke. Gonna make your boy Nicky a lot of money. Ain’t that
right, Luke?”
Brooding
rumbled an agreement, the amused look never leaving his face.
“Good man,
good man. I’ll let you kids get to know each other.” And with that, Fury
swaggered off, disappearing into the sea of bodies. In the living room the
music slid back a step to the late sixties as “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” came on.
“So it’s
Bri, is it?” Turner asked, his voice teasing.
“Brianna,”
I replied, playing along for a second before narrowing my eyes. “But you
already knew that, didn’t you?”
GUEST POST
Advice to
aspiring writers by Kristine Wyllys
Since I
first announced that I had a book deal, I've found myself being asked for
advice more and more often. Sometimes, I'm able to distract the advice-seekers
with pizza. I usually try. Because I'm not always convinced my brand of
organized chaos is the best advice for someone to seek.
HEY LOOK
OVER THERE AT THAT LARGE PEPPERONI PIZZA FROM THE PLACE OF YOUR CHOOSING.
Still here?
Awesome. You fall into that other group then. Which is cool. You've just passed
the most important writing test of all: you're impervious to distractions. And
if you want to be a published writer you need to be able to ignore
distractions. Otherwise those deadlines go sailing right past you and you're
too busy studying that cloud shaped like a turtle to realize.
So since
you're serious about this, or at least not hungry at the moment, here's the
rest of my SO YOU WANT TO BE A WRITER list.
2.
Have
a child? A pet? An action figure you love more than most people? Perfect. Look
at that thing. Imagine how much you love it and want to protect it. Now imagine
handing it over to someone and that person takes one look at it, throws it on
the ground, then lights it on fire while screaming that your face makes them
wanna puke shards of their pelvis. Painful, right? Nearly unbearable? This is
what putting a book out in the world is like. You're giving your baby to
someone to light on fire and puke pelvis shards on. Most people will not. Most
people will be so wonderful it'll make you want to cry. But every once in
awhile, someone will have matches in their pocket. Make peace with that.
3.
Writing
is weird. You spend your time battling a blank screen and talking to characters
in your head. It takes weird people to do it. Embrace that weirdness. Love your
weirdness. Don't bother fighting it. Know that the process is mad and you're
mad for it and worlds are born from that madness so it's beautiful. Listen to
me. This is important. You're gonna find yourself in a closet one day screaming
at whoever passes by it that you're a burrito. It's fine. It's cool. It's part
of the package.
4.
Bloggers
are wonderful, magical, lovely people. Appreciate them. Appreciate them hard.
5.
Don't
be a jerk. This doubles as life advice.
6.
Remember
that people are watching or the will be. So don't leave the windows open while
you get plastered with your skirt tucked into the back of your pantyhose. Keep
it classy. Or, at least, have on nice underwear.
7.
Write
for you first. Everyone else second. If you're not in love with what you're
doing, you can't expect anyone else to be.
8.
You
are not an island. Find your people. It doesn't matter who they are. Find your
people and keep them close. You're gonna need them.
9.
This
is a subjective game. I'm sure you've heard that before and it's the truth.
What one person loves, another will hate. Don't get discouraged by it. You're
not gonna ever ever please everybody and that's okay. Because you'll please
some people and that's awesome.
10. Don't get caught up in the daydreams
that you're going to be the Next Big Thing. It's okay to dream it. It's okay to
have that tiny spark of hope inside of you that you will be. But at the end of
the day, laugh, shuck your pants, and know that even if you never, ever see a
best sellers list, your words are out there for others to read. You're living a
dream.
Okay. Got
all that? Splendid. So, how about that pizza now?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kristine Wyllys, who usually answers to, “Hey, You! With
the Hair!” was born in the north and now resides in the northern
version of the Carolinas. She lives in a farmhouse older than she is, with
a bunch of property that makes her spontaneously break out in Dixie Chicks
songs every time she looks out the back door. She's got babies, books, a
boy that she fell in love with at 15, and a dog that might be a
lesbian. She spends her spare time naming chickens after Harry Potter
characters, breaking smart phones, and blogging.
Tell Me When
by Stina Lindenblatt
Amber Scott should be enjoying life as a college
freshman. She should be pursuing her dream of becoming a
veterinarian. She should be working hard to make sense of her precalculus
math class.
She shouldn’t be waking up her college roommate with screaming
nightmares. She shouldn’t be flashing back, reliving the three weeks of
hell she barely survived last year. And she definitely shouldn’t be
spending time with sexy player Marcus Reid.
But engineering student Marcus is the only one keeping Amber from
failing her math course, so she grudgingly lets him into her life. She
never expects the king of hookups will share his painful past. Or that
she’ll tell him her secrets in return, opening up and trusting him in a
way she thought she’d never be able to again.
When their fragile future together is threatened by a stalker
Amber thought was locked away for good, Marcus is determined to protect
her. And Amber is determined to protect Marcus…even if that means
pushing him away.
“I’m fine,” I say as an idea
plays out in my head. Paul was the last man who kissed me. I’ve got my life
back, but I need more. Marcus is my chance for more, in a safe way. Besides, I
can’t think of a better candidate for the position. He’s got to be a great
kisser. Girls tend not to get all hot over guys with a reputation of being a
bad kisser, right? And if I’m going to take back what Paul stole from me, what
better place than to do it here, with Marcus? I mean, isn’t that what I’m
paying him for? Kind of.
“You’re right,” I say. “If we’re gonna do this
right, you need to kiss me.”
Eyes narrowed, Marcus studies my
face for a second, as if trying to read my mind, then his lips touch mine,
again, as his arms wrap around my waist. He doesn’t push me further and I’m
able to relax into him.
Gaining a little more confidence
from not flashing back to Paul this time, I run the tip of my tongue against
Marcus’s lower lip. He parts his lips and lets me tentatively explore the
inside of his mouth. I focus on his spicy scent and on his strong body against
mine. A body that’s nothing like Paul’s.
A kiss that’s nothing like
Paul’s.
Unlike Paul’s kisses, Marcus’s
kiss is hot, but I can tell, like me, he’s just going through the motions. He’s
not really present in the moment. A side effect of being a man-whore, I guess.
I continue kissing him and feel
something stir deep. I quickly stamp it down as I pull away. A subtle taste of
victory courses through me. My
experiment, a success.
GUEST POST
Dear College-Aged Me by Stina Lindenblatt
Dear College-Aged Stina,
You’re a sophomore in university now. And to think your
high-school guidance councilor told you you’d never succeed in university. One
day you’ll prove him doubly wrong by obtaining your master’s degree. Go, you!
There’s something I want to warn you about. You’ll be hanging
out with friends at Denny Andrews
American Bar like you do every weekend. Your friends will be dancing, but
you won’t be. A guy will start talking to you. He seems nice but he isn’t your
type. You’re bored and happy to talk to him. Don’t. Walk away and join your
friends on the dance floor. He’ll ask you for your phone number. Because the
idea of dating scares you and because you aren’t into him, you’ll give him a
wrong number. No big deal, you do that all the time. But this guy won’t get the
hint when your number turns out to be wrong. He won’t get the hint when you
tell him you know it’s wrong the next time you see him. Instead, he’ll take
that as a sign that you like him. A lot.
Soon after, you’ll get a summer job at a horse-riding camp
for the disable. You won’t make much money and the hours are long, but you’ll
enjoy it. All right, you won’t enjoy mucking out the stables, but hey, that’s
part of the job. You’ll meet some amazing kids who’ll make your day brighter. Because
the job is more about the experience than a paycheck, you’ll have to keep your
current part-time job. It’s the job you plan to continue with in the fall. The
hours are perfect and you love it. And soon they’ll offer you a promotion. That
means more money. Except, you won’t be able to take it. Why? Remember that guy
you met at the nightclub and gave wrong phone number to? Well, he’s going to be
stalking you. You see, you told him where you work and he shows up there one
day to visit you. I don’t know how he knows your schedule, but he does. You’ll
brush him off but he still won’t get the hint. Instead, he’ll apply and get a
job there. And you’ll have to give up yours because you’re terrified at what
could happen.
The good news is you’ll eventually get a new job in the
fall, although you won’t enjoy it as much as the old one. As for the stalker,
you’ll never see him again. You’ll go out with your friends to a different bar
and you won’t be a sad statistic. But you’ll always be haunted by the memory of
not feeling safe that summer and having to rearrange your life to avoid him—all
because you thought no one would take your fears seriously.
Keep safe,
Future Stina
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stina Lindenblatt lives in Western Canada, where she
loves to dream up New Adult and Young Adult stories, especially those
with romance. She loves to travel, and has lived in England, the US,
Canada, and Finland. She has a Master’s of Science degree in exercise
physiology and has worked with elite athletes. In her free time, Stina
enjoys photography, especially the close-up variety. She is
the author of TELL ME WHEN (01/20/14).
Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers #1)
by Danube Adele
My name is Taylor, and damn but my life changed
overnight. One moment I was just a regular girl working two jobs to
pay my bills, and next thing you know, I'm uncovering secret metal disks
at my boss's house. Now I'm reading minds, dream-walking and being saved
from bad guys by Mr. Dark and Brooding.
That would be Ryder Langston, my new next-door neighbor. He's sex
on legs, but he's also a secret agent from another world—no joke. I
believe him now, because he dragged me back here "for my
protection" after he discovered someone was trying to assassinate me
on Earth. It isn't working out so well.
There's a war going on, one that's been fought for generations.
Ryder's having trust issues (not that it's stopping us from falling into
bed), and it turns out I'm connected here, if you know what I
mean. The target on my back finally makes sense, but there's nowhere left to
hide…
EXCERPT
Was this a dream?
Had I ever felt this lucid in a dream
before?
I could feel the silky material around
my eyes, on my wrists and ankles, softly sliding against my skin. With my body
waking to sensual heat seeping through my veins, I only wanted to concentrate
on what was happening in the moment, appreciate the swirl of masculine energy
twining through the feminine threads of my own.
So good...
My dreams usually had a surreal, nondistinct,
floating quality to them. This time, I actually felt a large, rough hand
feathering over the skin on my rib cage, my flat stomach, agonizingly slow,
avoiding obvious erogenous zones.
It was a hot, searing touch. It was
like someone was actually there. Someone I wanted...
More... Like
that... So good...
I could scent spicy soap that was
subtle, yet distinctly male, arousing, and couldn’t help the feverish whispers
of encouragement.
Oh, my God... Yes...
My sex dreams usually made me struggle with the frustration of a roller-coaster
experience that never finished. I would ride a buildup of desire and a cool
down, over and over, my imagination acting as a careless lover with wonderful
intent but clumsy execution. This time there was no such neglect. The burn was
exquisite, building and teasing, ebbing and flowing, but never forgetful and
creating a fever that made me writhe with need.
Please!
Never had I ever felt this way before,
chanting my demand, desperately wanting to reach the end of the ride.
Yes! Like that! Yes!
Sudden sensation poured over and
through me, powerfully enough that I woke myself and sat up. My breath was
short and gasping. My body was quivery and oversensitized. I was covered with a
fine sheen of sweat, and my sheet was twisted in carefree abandon around my
naked body.
I half expected to find a man in front
of me.
Rubbing my wrists as though the soft
bindings were still tied to me, I glanced around my sparsely furnished bedroom
and felt my body quake with a small, faint aftershock. I was alone. Nothing was
disturbed. At the same time that I drew comfort from seeing that everything in
my world was still in its place, a faint echo of grief, or disappointment, took
the edge off my contentment, like I was missing something. I was solo after
such an erotic experience.
What about the hand? Who was it
attached to?
A part of me had to give a
mental headshake of exasperation.
No men for you. At least not
yet.
The inevitable weight of
responsibility, like a bucket of ice water, reminded me that I needed to work
and pay the bills. I had to make ends meet. There was no one who was going to
help me.
Usually, I accepted this with a
matter-of-factness, but this night, a spike of resentment reared its head.
What would it be like to be a normal
girl who had time for frivolity?
I quashed the thought immediately, too
tired to let it take root.
Why fight the wave? I just had to ride
it.
Settling back on my pillow, I once
again closed my eyes and let the languorous effects of post-orgasmic lassitude
steal over me. Strangely, as my mind once again stretched fingers toward my
deep subconscious, the whisper of a gentle caress down my cheek didn’t frighten
me.
GUEST POST
Bringing Characters to Life by Danube Adele
Starting a new story is one of the best feelings! It’s so
exciting because the possibilities are all open, begging to be examined. It’s a
new start, a new pathway, a new lesson to work through with my characters. It’s
like finding spring at the end of winter, each time. To bring my characters to
life, there are a number of things I like doing which help me pull as many
ideas together as possible.
Each character gets their own brainstorm of ideas. I want to
make sure I’ve got an image of what they look like, what their back stories
are, what personal demons they fight every day, and what external conflicts are
posing obstacles in their lives. Charting my plot is another great way to conceptualize
my characters and their personal journeys. Using plain old notebook paper, I
create a grid with approximately 20 boxes. Each box loosely represents a
chapter. For each chapter, I try to list what I want my characters to
accomplish, what scenes need to take place in each chapter to further the story.
I look for where I’ll want to put my plot twists, where to build drama, where
to add a bit of comedic relief and where to have the black moment.
Taylor Lane, my strong, but cute, female lead who lives her
life trying to be a bad*ss, has a lot of strong personal feelings that the
reader gets to hear from her thoughts. In Quicksilver Dreams, she’s snarky
and clever, but we also get to see that she’s hiding her fears. She doesn’t let
anyone know about the painful emotional gash that’s been a slow bleed all her
life. As the author, it took time for me to get to what made Taylor tick. To
get to the heart of my characters, I have another method that works well.
Sometimes, my characters’ voices are difficult to hear, so I
have them do a rant. I don’t even need to write it down because it’s more a
thought experiment. I can be taking a shower (I do some of my best thinking in
the shower – no distractions) and I’ll interview my characters in my mind. What
TV do they likely watch? What kind of food do they like to eat? What would they
think of the news going on in the world? How do they feel about their family
situation? What region of the world are they from? What are their values?
What’s most important to them? If they were going to stand on a soap box, what
would they give passionate voice to? If I’m out in public and I see a
situation, I ask myself how my character would view that, if they’d even notice
it at all. It doesn’t mean that this information will make its way into the
book, but it helps to crystalize the characters thought patterns and speech
patterns for me. Knowing the answers to these questions will help shape how the
character feels about the world they live in and the people they associate with.
I strive to build a well-rounded character.
Thanks so much for spending time with me. Who have been your
favorite characters in book?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Danube Adele wrote her first romance at the age of
seven when she penned the sweet story of her dogs falling in love and
having puppies together. She’s been dreaming up romantic tales ever since.
A lifetime resident of southern California, she spends time playing
at the beach, camping in Joshua Tree National Park, and hiking Mammoth
Mountain. Always a lover of adventure, she and her husband took their
sons on a cross country road trip to Florida and back in an old VW
Westfalia, that had no A/C, in the month of July, and still, it continues
to be the best trip they ever took. Extensive travel and trying new things
has kept the creative spark alive. Danube lives in Claremont with her
biggest fans, her loving husband, amazing and wonderful identical
twin sons, and a teddy bear of a Rottweiler.
