Take it to the Stars

Last Flight of the Ark

2009-11-07T18:20:00.001-08:00

My erotic science fiction romance, Last Flight of the Ark has just been accepted for publication with Liquid Silver Books. Check out the blurb below.

Evolution never happened so fast.
Twelve hours outside of Terra II, Colonel Kaleb Titan, a molecular geneticist and commander of the Ark, faces a life or death choice that could change the fate of mankind.
The Genesis I, AKA the Ark, has traveled for eight months with a hold full of wildlife and three crew members to keep her on course and operating. When a wolf bite and genetically-altering gamma radiation transform Colonel Titan, he notices his senses have been heightened and his libido has gone haywire. He can’t keep his hands off his crew and they don’t seem inclined to stop him.
When their sister ship, the Genesis II arrives early, Kaleb’s problems compound. If Earth Command learns of the infection, his ship will be quarantined and the crew will die in space. When the command crew of the Genesis II boards his ship, one whiff tells him they’re not who they appear to be. They might have flown the Genesis II to their location, but they’re not from earth and Kaleb suspects they want their planet and cargo.
When he discovers that they’ve kept the Genesis II’s crew of over two thousand alive, he begins to believe their reasons may be far more ominous than anyone could have imagined. However, he also discovers what’s holding them back. The hijackers seem to be allergic to canines.
Now, Captain Melissa Deluzio the pilot, Lieutenant Jessica Stearns a wildlife biologist, and Colonel Rivers are forced to employ biological warfare against their own people, but will it be enough to save them?
History is about to repeat and only one species will survive.

More Chops from Slipping the Past

2009-11-03T03:15:00.000-08:00

Here are some more chops that didn't make it into the final copy.

Thirty two years before…
Gabriel clutched his mother’s leg. “No.”
“Let go.” His father pried him lose and handed him to the man standing in the doorway. Gabriel kicked and screamed. The man wrapped his arms around him, keeping him from flailing.
“I don’t want to go.” Frustrated and held tight, Gabriel did the only thing he could. He closed his eyes and let it build. The power rushed through him. He sucked from the lights and air. “No! I don’t want to go.” Bulbs exploded.
“Strong.” The man adjusted his hold, making it harder to for Gabriel to breathe and pull energy. “His talent won’t be wasted.”
“I told you he was special,” His father said. “He’ll do great things for our world.”
“Mommy.” He sank his teeth into the man’s shoulder. The man released his hold and dropped him. Gabriel scuttled toward his mother, who sobbed. She stepped forward. His father moved in front of her and caught Gabriel by the collar. He heaved him off his hands and knees and shoved him toward the strangers.
“You have no place here.”
“Mommy!”
“Lucian, let him come to me. You’re scaring him. I’ll take him to the transporter.”
“You’re making this harder. He was born for one purpose and he will serve that purpose. It’s done. I signed the papers, they own him. He needs to start learning to be a man and he can’t do that with you treating him like a baby.” His father pushed her back. Gabriel screamed and sank his teeth into the stranger again. The man didn’t release him, but grabbed his hair and yanked his head back.
Gabriel’s eyes watered. He stared at his father through the tears, pleading. They were mean. He could feel they didn’t care about him. Why was he letting them take him? “I want to stay. Please Daddy. I’ll be good.”
“I’m not your father anymore. You’re an Enforcer. You better get used to it.” He turned and walked through the door, shutting it behind him with a soft click.

Hot Dads: The DILF Anthology

2009-10-29T16:16:00.000-07:00

Amazon.com: Hot Dads: The DILF Anthology (9781607778417): Lori Perkins: Books

Hot Dads, The DILF Anthology is out in print. Get your copy today and meet Derek James, the hottest dad in espionage, in my story Cloaks, Daggers and Diapers.

The Misfits - out today

2009-10-27T01:40:00.000-07:00

The Misfits is out today with Loose-ID

http://www.loose-id.com/prod-The_Misfits-1047.aspx

It's not easy being a faerie. Holly would know. She's the laughing stock of Fae, useless at magic and has wings that never cooperate. She can't understand why a high-born faerie she hardly knows would want to marry her because she certainly doesn't want to marry him. The mortal world looks far more enticing.

Being a vampire bites. Crippled with guilt over his part in the death of his twin, Dominic is estranged from his family. When he rescues an injured werewolf on the run from his pack, he sees a kindred spirit in the damaged outcast.

What use is a werewolf who can't scent or track? Victim of his conniving brother, Jay is viciously attacked by his pack. The wolves might not want him but once he's living with Dominic, they won't leave him alone.

After a night of passion with Dominic and Jay, Holly's ready to move in with them. But their enemies are intent on keeping them apart and the trio of misfits find themselves in a fight for survival. If they can't figure a way through the web of lies and deceit that bind them, they'll lose more than their families. They'll lose each other.

Lucy in the Sky - out today 21st October

2009-10-21T08:32:00.000-07:00

Lucy in the Sky
Barbara Elsborg

When you wake up to find a spaceship in your backyard, what do you do? Choose from three:
Phone the police.
Scream.
Go yell at the alien for wrecking your garden.

Lucy storms out of her house to confront the inept pilot and the last option turns out to be both the right and wrong choice when she finds the gorgeous hunk’s name is Three. She’s torn between fury that he’s crushed her roses and decapitated her statue of Eros, and a longing that he enliven her boring life and whisk her to the stars. Three doesn’t give her a choice when he throws her over his broad shoulders and takes her into space. Lucy soon finds herself exploring alien territory in ways she never imagined.

Three’s efforts to hide and protect her on the mother ship are stymied by his inability to keep his hands—and other body parts—off the luscious Lucy, and it looks as if her immediate fate might be a solo trip into space without a spacesuit.

She's on a roll!

2009-10-11T09:03:00.000-07:00

Help me shout out a big congratulations to Take it to the Stars's very own, Laurie Green.

Laurie has done it again! *\0/* *\0/* *\0/*
It's just been announced that P2PC has swept the paranormal romance class of the RWA's Heart of the West writers contest with a first place win.

Way to go.

What to cut, what to keep.

2009-10-08T16:00:00.000-07:00

Rewrites can mean cuts. From words, to sentences, to whole paragraphs and even chapters. I've learned a lot from writing short stories and I've become a bit of a word-miser. As a result, I've noticed it's become harder to write a larger story. Here's a section that I chopped from my soon to be released novel, Slipping the Past.

“Where are we going?”
Jocelyn down shifted. She’d no idea. They’d been circling the neighborhood for the last hour. Since the enforcers didn’t drive, she wasn’t sure if they were still waiting for her at the house. She knew she could never go home, but she wasn’t ready to face that reality. Plus, she needed to drop Nate. She couldn’t drag him into this, regardless what her mother wanted but there was a problem leaving him home, he was her eyes. Without him, her mother’s transporter was worthless.
“Jocelyn?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying to think.”
“You’re wasting the charge in this vehicle. We need to put as much distance as we can between us and that reaper.”
“Stop, Nate. I’m trying to figure it out.”
“You’re not ditching me.”
Jocelyn groaned and rolled to a stop in front of the house. Nate looked away from it. “Nate, look at the house. I can’t see it.”
“No. We need to get out of here.”
“Nate.”
“No.”
“Damn it, Nate. Would you look at the house? I need to see.”
Nate snorted and stared at the pavement, refusing to give her what she wanted. Jocelyn watched through his eyes as the wind caught the leaves and sent them whirling across the road’s surface in a spiral dance. For once, she wished she could see with her own eyes, but it looked like she’d have to lower herself to begging.
“Please.”
“If we keep doing this, he’s going to come out that door and see us. Then we’re done.”
“I’m done. You’re not involved.”
“Says the woman who’s borrowing my eyes to sort of make her escape—if she’d actually leave the neighborhood.” Nate huffed and glanced at the front door. “Happy?”
Jocelyn put the vehicle in first and began to drive again.
Jake glanced at the door one more time. “Oh shit. You better get this thing going.” Ian stepped out onto the porch and locked onto them. Jocelyn slammed her foot to the floor.
“Eyes front, Nate!”
He snapped his head around and stared at the street. “Get us the fuck out of here, Jocelyn.”
The tires squealed and the transporter shot forward.
“They can’t teleport inside a moving vehicle. Don’t stop,” Nate glanced in the rearview mirror to see the reaper standing in the street behind them. “Left. Go left.”
The tires screeched as they took a corner. Nate checked the mirror. The reaper had teleported behind them again, watching their every move. She turned right, taking another side street. He teleported again, staying in the rear view mirror. He could follow them all night. Too bad they’d wasted most of the transporter’s charge circling the block.
“We have to get on the interstate. He can’t follow us that way.”
“I don’t think that will stop him.” Something about the reaper made the hair on her neck snap to attention. He’d come for her four hours early. He’d been anxious to get her soul and didn’t care if he broke the law to do it. Until midnight, she was still seventeen and untouchable, or she should have been untouchable. If he didn’t care about that, there was a good chance he wouldn’t care if Nate got hurt during the capture, or worse.
“We might be able to ditch him in traffic. Get to the interstate and we’ll take a side exit. There’s no way he can predict our next move. He can keep popping behind us on these side streets. The interstate won’t be as easy.”
“Fasten your safety harness and keep your eyes on the road.”
Nate complied and eyed the sign ahead. “Oh shit. You can’t do that.”
“Just watch me.” Jocelyn shot down a one-way street the wrong way and onto an off-ramp. She’d have to take a chance. Only a crazy man would follow her wrong-way onto an interstate. Hell, she was crazy to even contemplate it. Bright lights beamed at her and a horn wailed. Jocelyn swerved around the transporter and shifted into a higher gear. She moved to the shoulder and weaved around two more oncoming transporters. She couldn’t get onto the correct side with the concrete dividers between. They’d have to ride this out for a mile or two until they hit the open and she could get across the median.
“Jocelyn! Look out!”
Jocelyn had seconds to register the reaper standing in front of her, backlit by the lights of a freighter truck. “Oh shit!” She down shifted and swerved. It wasn’t enough. She missed the reaper and truck but hit the divider doing at least eighty miles per hour. Her head smashed into the steering wheel before her restraints locked down and yanked her back.
Everything began to reel along in slow motion. Their transporter spun and flipped. Airborne, it spiraled across four lanes of traffic and hit the barrier on the other side. Metal screeched and sparks left a tail behind them like a comet as the vehicle slid across the pavement on the driver’s side.
Then, everything went dark as Nate blacked out.
“Oh God, Nate.” Pain wracked her ribcage where the harness had caught and her forehead felt smashed. “Nate.” Jocelyn dared to open her eyes and look. The light from other vehicles stabbed through the back of her skull. She ignored the pain and examined Nate. His chest rose and fell. She took a deep breath. He was alive, but how badly hurt? She slammed her eyes shut, unable to take anymore. They were trapped. Where was the reaper?
Jocelyn released the catch on her belt and reached for Nate. She shook his arm. “Wake up. We’ve got to get out of here before we have company.”
Nate groaned.
“Nate. You’ve got to wake up.”
Boots crunched on broken glass and her stomach lurched.
“Jocelyn Miller. I have a warrant for your arrest.”

Go here for updates on the release of Slipping the Past:
http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/forums/showthread.php?t=10337

Visit next Thursday for more excerpts from the cutting room floor.

Dawn

2009-10-02T03:51:00.000-07:00

Yippeeeeeee!!!!! Arlene's book is now available!!!!

http://www.shadowfirepress.com/excerpts_2009/Love_Grows_Wild_in_the_Dark_aw_excerpt.html

Love Grows Wild in the Dark by Arlene Webb

Heat Rating: From Just a Spark to Warm shading toward Fire.

Content Warning: None

Single Author Anthology.

In Lieu of Flowers
Tormented by flowers, stalked by non-existent fiends, will a youth with an overactive imagination ever find happiness?

Hate my mom. Hate my life. Hate my mom.... The words looped in my mind, a mantra of misery. Top of the food chain, a nineteen year old Caucasian male, and here I was thrown back into reliving high school years. Surprised the old bat hadn't made me skip grade school to help for holidays. Come home from the intern gig for one lousy weekend, and it's Joel to the rescue--again.

"The cooler needs restocking. Red carns, alstro, delphiniums. There's another pack of pink roses in the back that aren't done yet."

"Yeah, yeah." I flipped my knife to a path parallel to the stem contaminating my other hand and pointed upward, my elbow braced for liftoff. "If I stab my eye out, can I leave?"

Mom burst out laughing. One thing about the woman, she did appreciate my sarcasm. But I seriously doubted she understood how deranged I was. I loathed flowers, almost as much as I hated running into dolts from my past.

Brad frickin' Norris. The vision of splattering crimson, the clank of enamel teeth hitting the sidewalk orchestrated with the lovely sonata of his girlish sobs and deep grunts begging for mercy--I sighed, my fantasy concerning punching Norris in the face had encouraged me to strip every thorn, and then some, off the rose in my hand.

"Maybe you should check the availability of Braille keyboards first." Mom slapped the final touches on yet another arrangement I'd have to cart across the street. Fingers moving in a blur, she peered up at me. "Forget the roses and take this. Careful. It's pricey, and I'll see you at home, kay? Honestly, son, I'll lose it if you drop that one."

Rebel
Can an untamed lover distract from the desire to bring down the human race?

It hurts, having your head cut off. I don't care how lovingly the man crooned as he snapped me between his thick fingers. Pain ricocheted through my vascular system. With every fiber of my being, I hoped my fluid burned his fingers.

"Bastard human." My loud curse started a ripple from my cringing little ones. Heads bent in submission, they gulped their distress, murmuring soothing words to no avail. In a matter of hours I'd be sealed, callous formed, on my way to splintering into more suckers for the bipods to torture. I shook, using all my strength to turn from my loving offspring trying to raise their disfigured faces to the light. The devil had pinched them too.

Time to concentrate on settling the score between Plantae and Mammalia. The book lay at my base. I bent my mutilated crown, covered the page, and continued reading where I left off before the monster had stomped in on two horrid legs to mess with me.

When darkness soothed my injuries, blackness cloaked my hungry mind, and I swore again. Not happy with twisting me almost dead, forcing me to branch into a form they found ëpretty', lights went out at sundown like I was a simple seedling.

I snickered. Stupid human still hadn't found his bible. Soon, I'd have opportunity to take down his fascist regime.

"Mommy, why does he keep doing this?" my youngest whispered.

"Shh, my love. Someday you'll become so perfect the cruel man will stop." I didn't elaborate. No little sprout wanted to learn about hell day, and I didn't want to upset my offspring this vengeful night. I'd keep them in the dark as long as I could. "Sleep now. Dawn will break, it always does. And I promise you, we'll have a new light for breakfast--soon."

Circle in the Sand
Fallen angels, a handsome blue-eyed officer... How can a female geek concentrate?

I never thought it'd be so annoying being the lackey for a narcissist serial killer, but the angel rising from his chair had me gnashing enamel.

"You lost your marbles?" V growled. Like a trench coat around him, his dark hair flowed past his knees.

"Yes." Despite telling him that six times already, I didn't dare flip him my human backside and skedaddle before he dismissed me. The last thing I wanted was to squirm beneath a fallen one, his fist down my throat. His eyebrows snapping into killer angles encouraged me to elaborate. "Without my balls I can't blast brains to pulp. Searching the office, that's all I was doing."

"Balls? You sure look double X to me." He snorted, jerking his gaze from my chest. "Cease demoralizing your co-workers. Playing the ëI'm nuts card' won't negate a contract. If I don't make tomorrow's headlines, Rissa, my love, I'll hunt for lost items in places the sun doesn't shine. Get back to work."

My heart regained its beat as V stopped shaking feathers everywhere and his hands unclenched. It'd be easier to scope that red dot without my eyes swollen shut. I traded my urge to curtsey for a nod and retreated. It'd serve our molting slave master right if I did spread loss of mojo through his minions. With three women including me and five men dysfunctional thanks to the willies, the big oaf would have to do his own retribution. Unfortunately, the angel had me by the short hairs. I'd signed in blood. Two more foreheads to go, a total of seven bodies and he'd leave me and mine alone.

Review: The Power of Love

2009-09-24T18:11:00.001-07:00

Just wanted to mention there's a great review of Barbara's POWER OF LOVE up on BittenbyBooks blog.

You can find the link to POWER OF LOVE at right.

Do the Right Thing....

2009-09-21T05:00:00.000-07:00

...and don' t miss this novel! To be released this Thursday from Cerridwen Press, DOING THE RIGHT THING is an amazing story of love, loss and heart-breaking decisions that will leave you wanting more. (Never fear! A fantastic sequel is in the works!!!)

Barbara has a rare talent for creating a terrific blend of humor and tragedy that puts the reader right into the front seat of an unforgetable romantic joyride.

Words of praise for DOING THE RIGHT THING:

"Addie is a kind, quick-witted, survivor-of-a-mom-from-hell in an impossible love triangular with a twist. In a quest for her mother's approval, she meets Mr. Perfect—tall, dark and handsome Will, a man who only wants to do the right thing, but finds trying to do right by everyone only leads to a terrible wrong.

When Will steps into Addie's life, so does Ed, a serial playboy with an electric smile and a heart of gold who is there to catch Addie every time Will lets her down. The clincher? They're brothers. These three flawed, funny characters make for a story that runs the gauntlet between hilarious and heart-breaking.

An addicting Contemporary Romance. Five big shiny stars...and then some."

We have a Winner

2009-09-20T11:18:00.000-07:00

All hands on deck!

Take it to the Stars's very own Laurie Green has just placed first in the Southwest Writer's Contest with her science fiction romance P2PC.

Here's the link: http://www.southwestwriters.com/swwcontestwinners09.php

I'm sure this is only the beginning of this amazing novel's voyage.

Dawn

Slipping the Past.

2009-09-12T04:23:00.000-07:00

Some love affairs last a lifetime, others never end.

Jocelyn Miller is a fugitive. She’s, blind, homeless and was doomed to spiritual incarceration from the moment she drew her first breath. On the run since her eighteenth birthday, she’s somehow managed to stay one step ahead of the reapers. If she’s caught, she knows she’ll lose her soul, but what she doesn’t expect—is to lose her heart.

Innocent people don’t have warrants.

Or do they? Gabriel Solaris is an enforcer, a genetically enhanced psychic often referred to as a reaper for his ability to take souls, and he’s charged with collecting Jocelyn’s. When he finds Jocelyn outside the store, he’s sure she’s up to something illegal. Proving it isn’t necessary, he already has a warrant. But the closer Gabriel gets to Jocelyn, the more he begins to question his duty. Her claims of innocence have a ring of truth he can’t deny.

I loved you once.

Gabriel loses control and kisses her. Instead of taking her soul, he gives her a week to prove her innocence for past-life crimes. Now it isn’t only Jocelyn’s soul at stake. If she can’t prove her innocence, Gabriel will go down with her.

Liquid Silver has posted a notice of my book's upcoming release on their public page. There's an excerpt. No cover yet, but they'll post it there as soon as it's done.

liquidsilverbooks.com/forums/showthread.php?p=156837

Doing the right thing - coming soon!

2009-09-06T07:22:00.000-07:00

Doing the Right Thing
Barbara Elsborg - available from Cerridwen Press 24th Sept

Addie Winter is single—just one more reason for disappointment in her permanently disapproving mother’s eyes. There’s nothing she wants more than to be loved but when her own mother can’t bring herself to love her, she wonders if anyone can. What she needs is a man—real would be ideal, but she’ll settle for pretend. Anything to shut her mother up.

Will Mansell chokes on his drink when Addie offers to pay him to spend the night in her room. Tall, dark-haired and the epitome of Addie’s “hero”, he can’t believe his luck because women usually go for his blond-haired brother. Ed Mansell is a serial playboy with an electric smile who waltzes through life and through women. Lucky for Will and Ed they don’t have the same taste in women. But that was before they met Addie.

Far from pretending, Will and Ed set out to prove Addie wrong. But after having no one who loves her, Addie finds too much love can be just as painful as no love at all.

Guess what!!!!!!

2009-08-24T10:48:00.000-07:00

One of us has just had fantastic news. Brilliant. Wonderful. Exciting. It's our very own Laurie Green whose great sci fi romance P2PC has finalled in two - yes two - contests. Hip hip hooray for Laurie.

In the SWW Science Fiction category

the link: http://www.southwestwriters.com/swwcontestwinners09.php

and in the Heart of the West - competition. No link for that yet. To be added later.

Laurie will hopefully be attending both banquets in September and October when they announce the winners - but she's already a winner with us!!

HUGE congrats, Laurie

What's in a name?

2009-08-19T00:36:00.000-07:00

I wonder what readers think of the names we pick for our heros and heroines. Does it put them off the story if they don't have names that give them the right feeling? I would never not read a book because I didn't like the name the author had chosen but the time I spend finding the right ones for my characters - you'd think I was studying brain surgery.
My heroines are Kate (more than once) Katya ( ooh is that a bit like Kate/) Chloe, Addie, Holly, Susie, Polly, Lucy, Daisy, Erin ( a different sound there), Jo (and again), Flick and Imo - to name but a few. I obviously like the 'ly' sound at the end of the name. In fact both my kids have names that end this way.
My heros - Charlie (arggh - slipping into it with the guys), Ethan, Nathan, Christian (all ending the same!), Dominic, Jay, Jax, Jack, Three, Beck, Will, Ed, Alek, Aleksei, Felix, Adrian, Jake and so on.
I can see a pattern. The men's names are mostly short and hard sounding, the women's have two syllables and are softer.
Getting the name right is absolutely essential to me. I can't write unless I've settled on the right moniker.I've even picked my next two with no story in mind. Keir and Faryn - well maybe not for the same story as they're both unusual but I'm definitely using them somewhere.
So - I'm interested in what readers think of names - do they care what the characters are called? After all the angst we go through in choosing the right names - I have a feeling it matters far more to the writer than the reader.

Free read on Ellora's Cave!!!

2009-07-27T08:11:00.000-07:00

The Bad Widow - is available as a free read on Ellora's Cave from today. It's an erotic historical comedy - Salem witch trials era.

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-7384-the-bad-widow.aspx

The Bad Widow

Rose Thorne doesn’t want much. She’d like a man to love and for village idiots to stop claiming she’s a witch. Just because she does a little magic doesn’t mean they need to burn her at the stake. It takes ages to get the smell of smoke out of her hair. On her way home after foraging for mushrooms, she’s assaulted by two local lechers. Her rescuer appears out of the mist—a tall, dark, handsome stranger with a mouth-watering body. Finally something in her miserable life is going right. Furthermore, her savior turns out to be mute, so he can’t ruin things by saying something stupid.

Can life get any better?

Play that again?

2009-06-26T21:42:00.000-07:00

What makes you read a book twice? Do you ever??
I keep many of the books that I read. If I've enjoyed them, I don't want to let them go, though I have to admit I keep less and less these days but I suppose I keep them thinking that one day, I'd read them again. Generally I don't like to read things twice - I like a surprise- though with my memory I can get half way through sometimes before I realize I've read it a few months or years earlier. Oops. I even got stroppy with one poor author (only mentally) because I thought she'd pinched someone's idea and then I realized I'd read the damn book before.
But to deliberately choose to read a book twice - why would I do it?
Sometimes because I read it too fast to take in all the twists and turns. Maybe I'd read again because the book made me laugh - Jenny Crusie is the one for me.
Or I want a comfort read - Susan Elizabeth Phillips hits the spot. Re-reading thrillers or suspense stories seems of less interest. I might have loved them the first time around but if I already know the plot - I can't bring myself to read it again. Of course - according to my current husband - if I read them thoroughly in the first place, I wouldn't need to reread anything.

Another Great Review.

2009-06-11T05:53:00.000-07:00

The DILF Anthology has done it again. Another great review for Cloaks, Daggers and Diapers. Go here to check it out.

http://coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/hotdadsthedilfanthology.html

Clone Chapter 1 Part 2

2009-05-30T10:13:00.000-07:00

I’m not sure how I made it across the border; through the one mile strip called no-man’s land. Everywhere the Earth was scorched and the ground littered with the remains of would be defectors. Bits and pieces of bone and flesh were strewn about. Hair flapped in the breeze like a banner, still attached to a scalp and stuck to a mummified mass that could only have been human once.

Rats and carrion birds ripped at fresh and not-so-fresh corpses. They hopped and scurried about, growing fat from the feast. The paid me little mind, their bellies too full to give a second glance. It was the one place between myself and freedom, but less frightening than where I’d been. Somehow, I navigated the hazards.

Now I huddled on a cot in a six by six cell, shivering from the cold. I hugged my arms to my body and rubbed. Darkness wrapped around me, but I could still see my breath. It danced in the inkiness like a ghost. I blew out again, watching the vapors twist and shift. For a while, it entertained me, but soon, I grew bored and restless. Had I escaped only to become prisoner again?

Before I could dwell longer on my situation, the door cracked open and light poured in. I sat up and dropped my feet to the floor. A woman walked through, followed by a tall man. I couldn’t see them well with the backlighting. I smiled.

They couldn’t do anything that hadn’t been done to me before. I’d escaped once. I could do it again. I braced myself for an attack, gripping the bunk so tight my hands went numb. I’d kill them. I’d found my free will and nobody would take that from me again.

“God, she looks just like her.” A man’s deep voice. He stepped forward and the lights came on. I threw my arm across my eyes to block the sharp stabbing pains.

“Do you think it’s the clone that killed the doctors and nurse over in Europia?” the woman asked.
“If it is, it’s our lucky day.” He walked up to the bars and wrapped his fingers around them, leaning in. “What do you say? Are you the clone they’re looking for?”

I stared into his eyes. A brave thing to look a human in the face. I didn’t care. I’d earned my freedom. I shifted my gaze to the floor, keeping my mouth shut. Would they kill me? Was it safe to talk?

“Are you the clone responsible?” His voice took on a demanding edge.

“Yes.” Rule number three was so ingrained I couldn’t stop. “I am.”

The man whistled under his breath. “Because of you, Europia is locking down. They’re afraid of a clone rebellion.” He chuckled. “Serves them right if you all turn on them.”

“I want to live,” I said.

“And you shall.” His words contained a tone of kindness. Something I’d only heard exchanged among the keepers, among families. I raised my gaze to his, wanting to get closer, wrap myself in his kind voice, revel in it, saturate my soul and feed the hunger for contact. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and they jingled as he unlocked my cell. “Come with me.”

“Who are you?” His face was not what I expected. No hate, no anger or revulsion. Strong features that studied me, held my gaze without judgment. My heart jumped. He was different, this human.

“Dante. I’m a friend.”

Mind manipulation was a very real thing. A person could be twisted to become whoever they wanted you to be; given memories that were not their own. It was like a data download to the brain and often resulted in bouts of violence from the one who received the treatment. It had been the cause of murders and various other crimes and for that reason it was illegal on both sides of the planet.

I just learned to speak four languages fluently and received my doctorate in psychology.
I stared at my hands and they shook. I could tell you the rush of emotions is unlike anything you would expect, but living it is the only way to truly know.

Even now I battled the strange feelings. I knew what chocolate tasted like even though I’d never had it. Still, I could taste it in my mouth and my brain told me I had.

I studied Dante. He stood by the door to my new room. His arms were crossed and he hadn’t blinked in the last five minutes. Not once. The woman had left, but he remained, observing me in silence.

“Do you have any chocolate?” I needed to know. The demon memories in my head morphed larger, demanding it.

Dante reached into his pocket and pulled out a foil wrapped bar, holding it out.
Tremors rumbled through me. I eyed it. Waiting. Should I take it? I shifted my gaze to Dante who nodded.

I unfolded from where I sat and jumped up to snatch it from his hands and shred the wrapper. A sweet smell wafted up. My mouth watered. I ran it under my nose, inhaling, taking in the flavor I was certain it possessed. Sweet, earthy, I popped it in. It sat on my tongue melting. Yes. I laughed out and slid another piece between my lips.

I closed my eyes and let it dissolve, the sweet and bitter mingled in my mouth. A strange buzz came over me. My stomach fluttered and a tightening in my pelvis nearly took my breath. More emotions surged through me, sending my heart pounding frantically as it tried to keep up with them. I wasn’t sure of these strange feelings. I wasn’t prepared to open my eyes and find him still there.

Staring.

My heart skipped and another wave washed over me. His eyes were bottle green, like wet glass. Deep. Intelligent. The look they contained—my belly fluttered again.
Heat.

I exhaled slowly and felt my lower body clench and knot. More emotions. I bit the inside of my cheek and tasted blood. A sharp stabbing in my brain took my breath. Then just as quickly it was replaced with warmth.

I could barely draw a breath. I’d been denied feelings for so long, I couldn’t control them. I let my gaze slip back to Dante’s face. Right then—I felt–needful. I dropped the chocolate to the floor. He smiled and stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

“I…” Liquid heat pooled through my body, washing through me like lava. I could smell him, so intense the need. “I…” I grabbed his shirt and shoved him against the wall, ripping the front.

“Need.”

“Yes,” he said.

I didn’t know him, only his name, but I wanted him. I wanted him bad.

He bent his head to kiss me, his lips felt both soft and hard. I reached up and grasped his hair, clenching tight to hold him to me. Some from fear he’d break contact, most because of the hunger, the overwhelming high of… My heart cart wheeled.

“Please,” I broke from the kiss and whispered in his ear. I ground against him, rubbing like a cat in heat, needing to climb on him, in him, merge, meld and feed the need that pulsed through my body.

Closer. I hooked his belt loops and yanked him against my hips.
The taste of chocolate still teased my mouth. Combined with the taste of him… I groaned and reached for the front of his pants, driven past primal instinct.

Needing, wanting, taking.

New Release from Barbara

2009-05-20T17:36:00.000-07:00

Barbara's next novel, THE POWER OF LOVE, was released today by Ellora's Cave. Click on the image of the book cover to the right for a link to see the description and an excerpt (adults only website).

Some more.

2009-05-16T12:34:00.000-07:00

Laurie will probably recognize this one. She's got the original.

Art

2009-05-16T12:18:00.001-07:00

During an author's chat today, we talked about art. I mentioned that I'm an artist. So as requested, I'll post some of my work. Most of this is pen and ink. My paintings are not digitized.

The mustang colt is watercolor pencil and Bic pen.

Enjoy,

Dawn

Dawn @ Savannah Chase's Blog

2009-05-15T17:59:00.000-07:00

Dawn is the featured guest on Savannah Chase's blog today. You can read what she has to say about quickies...er, that is short stories...here.

Clone Chapter 1, Part 1

2009-05-14T15:34:00.001-07:00

Chapter 1

The cold from the steel table numbed my flesh. A stiffness settled in, leaching through my bones, making them ache to the marrow. I shivered and turned my head, watching while they worked. Precise, efficient, all without pause. They’d taken from me before and my body testified of their treatment, displaying scars and healing wounds like a topographical map.

The clanking of metal instruments echoed in the sterile environment, driving home how alone I really was, not that I had allusions of anything but.

The windowless room, surrounded by concrete blocks and frozen white was nothing short of a morgue, except I wasn’t dead.

Not yet.

They’d strapped an oxygen mask over my face. The gas burned my eyes, nose and mouth. The plastic visor fogged, but not enough that I couldn’t see what they were about to do and it didn’t matter. I couldn’t stop them.

I didn’t dare say anything. They could and would hurt me for one word. I tugged on the straps, all limbs secured except one. Tubes ran into that leg. They were filled with blood and fluid, all to keep my organs fresh. The liquid felt like ice where it entered my body and my leg turned blue in that spot.

So this was it. My life was to end, to save her child?

I balled my up my fists and took a deep breath, trying to think of anything but my fate. My eyes teared up from the concentrated oxygen, but maybe they teared up some because I didn’t want to die. I wanted to scream that I was human. I wanted to cry, but what would I cry for? They wouldn’t hear me. They wouldn’t care. So I watched and let rebellion seed.

The nurse set a bottle of liquid down on a wheeled stand near my feet. I unclenched my fists and felt the blood rush back to my fingers, then twisted my wrists in the restraints again. My heart jumped and I wiggled my wrist some more. They—my keepers, had been careless. An inch, perhaps more. It was enough.

I glanced at the bottle of liquid again. The soft murmur of voices filled the small room as the medical staff discussed my procedure. They didn’t bother to whisper as they discussed how they’d carve me up.

My heart, they’d take that first. My other organs could be frozen in a cyro-cell for use later. I turned to stare at them. A doctor caught my gaze and ceased talking. He nudged another beside him and the man yanked the curtain closed around my bed. The conversation continued.

The voices stopped, the clanking of tools ceased and they drew the curtain open again. A nurse with pasty skin and lipstick so red it could’ve been blood, checked my vitals on a monitor next to the bed. She offered no smile or apology for what they were about to do, instead she turned her back to retrieve more instruments and snatched up the bottle, sticking needle in the top. She glanced over her shoulder, drew liquid into the syringe and placed it on the tray by my feet. Her eyes lifted to one of the surgeons and she reached for a tube attached to my body.

“Should I start the anesthesia?”

“No. We’ll remove it while she’s awake. Take no chances the heart will be damaged. The child is prepped and waiting upstairs. I’ll work quickly.” He picked up a large scalpel. It gleamed at me as if it anticipated the taste of my flesh. This was the part I hated, the first sharp sting of pain. This time there wouldn’t be a dull ache to follow, keeping me awake for nights. The thought that I wouldn’t feel it frightened me more than the pain.

The nurse eyed the syringe. “That’s inhumane.”

“Inhumane is making that child wait for her heart. She could die.”

“Yes, doctor.” She grabbed a sponge soaked with iodine, scrubbed my chest and spread a clear film over my torso, wrapping me like a butcher’s meat package.

Condensation ran down the inside of my mask, clearing a path for my vision. I stared at the cart near my feet. Sadistic objects, all for killing, all for taking my life to give it to another. I shivered as the doctor studied my chest, certainly contemplating the best approach.

They’d no right. I couldn’t bear to watch, my eyes flitted to the cart again. There it sat, a simple glass container. I couldn’t read, so I didn’t know what it was. The words were foreign marks, patterns, and designs. If I should fight, now was the time. I shouldn’t go peacefully, but fight for my last breath, break the codes and disobey every law. Death would not come quietly, but with rage. For once in my life, I was determined to feel something other than fear.

My jaw clenched and I ground my teeth. I didn’t care what was in the bottle. My impending demise freed courage and strength I didn’t know I possessed. I focused all my will and thrashed out with my leg, kicking the bottle off the stand.

The nurse spun around, her eyes widened. A silent no formed on her lips. The scene ticked by in slow motion and seemed curious to watch. She dived for the bottle, missing it by inches. It shattered on the floor. Bits of glass and liquid bounced up, catching the light and glittering like fragmented jewels. Gas swirled around, reacting to the open air. A cloud rolled across the floor, spreading to blanket the tile surface. She slapped her hands over her face, dragging her fingers across her scarlet lips while she screamed, clawed, and smeared the scarlet all over her face.
Then silence. The sound of her screams and the air in her lungs had been stolen. I craned my neck to look. She’d gone motionless. Her eyes were popped wide, staring at the ceiling and broken vessels painted them as red as her lips. Dead perhaps?

I cared not.

A hissing sound filled the room as the gas rose. Bodies dropped to the floor. My would-be killers, thrashed, screamed and gasped like beached eels. One doctor turned to me, his mouth opened and closed as he tried to draw air. His arm extended and his fingers stretched. A plea for help covered his face. I shook my head as the light in his eyes faded.

His arm fell at the same time his chest stopped. A fitting end for a man who thought to harvest my organ’s while I lay awake.

A drop of condensation plopped down on my nose and tickled the surface as it raced for the tip. Giggles bubbled past my lips. I wiggled my hand out of the loose cuff with some difficulty, scraping on the strap and leaving some of my flesh behind. In a matter of moments, I unbuckled the other cuff and sat up to undo my ankle.

Looking down, I saw the tubes, attached like leeches to my leg. I grabbed the strands of loose spaghetti, closed my eyes and yanked.

Sharp stings, pain, all welcome feelings. Every sensation, every moment seemed a gift. I watched the blood trickle from the holes. From the ends of the tubes dangled silver needles, several inches long. All beautiful. My fingers opened and I watched the tubes roll out of my hand and fall to the floor with a wet plop.

The nurse appeared to be about my size, maybe a bit bigger. I stripped the clothes from her corpse and slipped into the unfamiliar garments, pulling her lab coat on after. They cloth was soft on my skin. A luxury I’d never experienced.

I looked up at a disc shaped mirror attached to the wall, and barely recognized myself. For all intents and purposes, I looked like them, a white-coated reaper.

Except for my chip.

I cocked my head to the side and saw it pulsing and cupped my hand over my cheek. Blue light blinked through my flesh, illuminating my tendons, vessels and outlining the bones. It would be hard to hide. Perhaps the coat was too obvious? I glanced around for my clothes and found them discarded in the rubbish. With deep regret, I changed. To escape I would leave wearing what I came with.

As a clone.

Invisible.

I made a choice that day. Giddiness spread over me as I realized I truly was free. The shock belt had been removed for surgery and with it, any control anyone had over me. I could make decisions, govern my life and I had a will of my own. So I made another choice.

I ran.

My First Reviews.

2009-05-03T05:12:00.000-07:00

I just learned Coffee Time did a review of my story Why'd it Have to be Shorts?, in the Men in Shorts Anthology and was thrilled to learn overall we got a four cup rating. Why'd it Have to be Shorts will also, in the near future, be published as a stand-alone short at Ravenous Romance. You can down load these babies to your cell phone for a little lunch time read and they won't break the bank.

Here's the link to the review:

http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/Meninshorts.html

I also received a wonderful review from Sarah, over on her blog The Love Struck Novice for my short Cloaks, Daggers and Diapers, in the Hot Dads/DILF Anthology.

Here's the link to the review on Sarah's blog:

http://thelovestrucknovice.blogspot.com/2009/04/ummm-ill-take-piece-of-that.html
Thanks to both for the fantastic reviews.

Dawn