Tuesday Tales – Sun

violinThe prompt this week is Sun.

I’m back to the new story this week. It’s tentatively called “Leap”.

Jayde is the FMC, and she’s a “Player” – a type of psychic. A rare type of psychic that sees the worlds fates and can moderately play with them. It can be a dangerous talent to have if you are inclined to evil…

Mag is the MMC, he’s a “Keeper” – a sort of magical FBI agent. Keepers are human, but they are created from humans that have died, and they never remember their first life.

As always this is un-edited mostly, so forgive any errors. :

Before Mag even fully coalesced, he knew Jayde was at the edge of his protective barrier. So when he became fully solid and found her at the edge of the cave, just inches from the brutal intensity of falling water, he wasn’t surprised.

He didn’t ask if she knew he was there, she was too powerful for him to doubt she knew that. Instead, he remained where he was, watching as her fingers danced over the edge of his magical barrier.

The sun beat in through a small gap in the intense flow he’d created with the barrier to allow them light, and set her figure in a gorgeous silhouette. Damn, he wanted her, and she knew it too. She knew more than she should, but he trusted her more than the creature that gave him his marching orders.

“Your constant indecision is really messing with me, Mag.” She broke the silence, but didn’t stop running her fingers along the protective shield.

“You’re not touching me.” He frowned. She’d told him that she had to touch him to get a good vision of their combined future. It was a benefit to being a Keeper that other creatures couldn’t use their gifts against a Keeper, in this case it was a detriment. Someone wanted her dead, someone other than his boss, which they both knew was the case. “So how do you know?”

“Much of you is in your shield. It’s not a perfect resolution to being able to see, but it works when you disappear on me.” She smiled and turned around. Her path toward him carried her in an almost glide, her feet made no noise on the rock surface. “I think you need to see something.”

When her hand settled over his heart again, it began to beat double time. Through the curtain of her lashes he could see her aqua eyes almost spark in delight. He set his hand over hers. “Your magic won’t touch me, remember?”

“If you truly believed that, you wouldn’t worry about me playing you. Now hush and trust me.”

He shouldn’t, not after all he’d been told, but he did. After all, he wasn’t one to listen to the rules. “For now, I’ll trust you.”

“You are such a poor liar. No worries.” She turned around and pressed her back into his chest. Her deliciously curvy ass wiggled against his cock, and he grunted. The giggle she offered in reply resonated like the brightest melody through the cave.

Without her guidance, he set his hands on her hips and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Behave.”

“I’ll be telling you that soon.” She lifted her arms to the sides. “Now close your eyes.”

“What? No.”

“Do it.” This time it was a command, a power in her voice he hadn’t heard before.

His cock twitched in response, and he found himself compelled to follow her orders. He closed his eyes as ordered, but kept his hands firm on her hips. “Now what.”

“Now breathe. Relax. Focus on me for a moment. It won’t take you long to see.”

“See what?”

“Magnar.”

With a big exhale, he tried to curb his curiosity and focus on her. It didn’t take as long as he expected. The heat of her body drew him in, her soft, even breaths a whisper in the air that he almost imagined he could see. An aqua swirl of fireflies swooping out as she breathed.

“That’s it,” She whispered, but it was more than a whisper. It was a song, and it carried the voice of a violin. “See it all.”

As the last note shimmered through the air, a cacophony of sound burst into the quiet. He flinched, almost stepping away, but instinct told him to stay still.

“Focus on me. Focus on me.”

Like a beacon in the noise, her song overrode everything and he followed it. The aqua swirl coalesced into strings, stretched out before him like a guitar. One by one, strings dropped into place around them, but he stayed focused on her, afraid of being blasted by chaos again.

“Interesting.” Her delicate fingers danced along the strings around them, brushing them aside and lifting her own up.

“What’s so interesting?”

“It worked, and as I suspected, you have music in you. You must have carried it over from your life.”

“Why do you say that?”

“These are guitar strings, the strings I always see are violins.”

*~*
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*~*

 

 

The Road Trip Challenge – Kids, or Hubby? #CleverGirlsForKiaJune


_MG_1427We don’t road trip too often in this family.

You’d think maybe it was because the challenge of entertaining three children of various ages was tough.

Or because on her first road trip, Molly literally cried the entire 9 hour trip.

All 526 miles.

Non-stop.

Never sleeping.

Just…Crying.

You’d think that was the reason.

Or the regular stops for the bathroom.

Or the frequent cries of boredom.

Why on earth don’t they play car games like I used to?

Or maybe the gas money.

These days that one hurts.

Still, is it any of those things?

Nope…it’s…

IMG_4708This guy—>

The loving husband.

Molly gets her wonderful car trip joy from him.

More than an hour in the car and poor Erik struggles to remain calm.

Go over three hours and he’s in trouble.

So we have to figure out the best way to run.

Especially since road trips are so much easier than flights.

*~*

It took a bit of finagling, but we found the secret formula.

For the kids, it’s a good DVD player, and lots of movies.

The boy gets his tablet.

A huge supply of homemade trail mix.

For Erik?

Comfort and lots of space to stretch out and just fall asleep.

Even if it means three rows of seats, the teen next to me, and Erik fast asleep in the very-way-back by himself.

It’s a magic combination.

A normal care doesn’t cut it…so we’re on the lookout for something better.

We’ve got our eye on a Kia.

I like the Sedona, but Erik is anti-minivan…so he’d rather have the Sorento (and I’m apt to let him).

So long as it’s got a third seat, I’m a happy camper.

 
*~*

I was selected for this opportunity as a member of Clever Girls Collective and the content and opinions expressed here are all my own.

Through Gypsy Eyes by Killarney Sheffield

Hello, let me introduce myself. My name is Killarney Sheffield, the author of ‘Through Gypsy Eyes’ releasing from Crimson Romance on April 15th 2013. ‘Through Gypsy Eyes’ is my 8th published novel.

Many people have asked me just how I came up with the idea of a blind heroine and a guide animal in the form of a seeing eye pony named Jester. Like many authors I sometimes struggle with ‘showing’ vs ‘telling’ and developing the sensory dimensions in a novel. I started writing a short piece from a blind woman’s pov. Obviously my character could not ‘see’ the world around her but had to interpret it through touch, taste, smell and the sounds around her. It is a wonderful exercise that really helped me connect with Delilah. The story just took off from there and refused to stay quiet until I seriously wrote her story and for me as a Canadian farm gal a book is never complete without some kind of animal sidekick. Most people would have gone with the guide dog approach but, I hate to offend anyone here, I am just not a dog person. My whole life has been spent around show horses of various breeds and disciplines. As I was thinking on an animal sidekick I remembered an old show I saw once on ‘Animal Planet’ about a lady in the USA who trained miniature horses to be guides for the blind. She used a harness similar to a dogs, put cute little sneakers on the pony’s feet for traction and house trained them. These remarkable little creatures could do everything a guide dog could and posed less allergy problem. From this simple show the idea behind Jester was born and he quickly became a most endearing character who threatened to steal the story in more than a few scenes! You can view a quick teaser of the tale here: http://youtu.be/S6qfLlbIkxA

True to my love of critters big and small I am currently polishing another historical romance novel with suspense, adventure and paranormal aspects to it titled ‘Love’s Magic’. It is the story of a female magician and her unusual sidekick, a black Holland rabbit named Dexter.

Gypsy| [amazon_link id=”B00C9KNYSO” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | B&N | ARe |

BLURB:

Delilah Daysland doesn’t see herself as marriage material. After all, who could love a woman locked in darkness?

Try telling that to Lord Tyrone Frost. He’s determined to do his duty and see her wed to a suitable gentleman, as the King commands.

Delilah has other plans. Convinced her father’s death was no accident, she must depend upon her pony Jester to guide her through everyday challenges as she seeks the truth behind mystery, murder, and deception. Though drawn to Tyrone she’s afraid to trust him, until she sees the world and love through gypsy eyes.

Excerpt:

The pony snorted and then nickered. She strained to hear anything beyond her own

movement as she kept herself afloat. Was there a slight rustle in the brush? Stilling her

movement, she paid closer attention. After detecting no further sound she closed her eyes,

allowing herself to relax and float in the blissful rocking motion of the current. It must be

a small woodland creature out to parch its thirst on such a stuffy night. There was nothing

to fear from such creatures, she was sure. A soft splash gave her pause and she rolled

over. Treading water she turned to face the opposite bank. Ripples rose, slapping her

chest as if something waded in the shallows. She listened again. A rhythmic sloshing

made its way toward her. Alarm quickened her pulse as she concentrated on the sound.

“Jester?”

An answering nicker came from the bank behind her. She worried her damp lower lip

between her teeth. If Jester is yet on the bank, then what is in the water with me? The

unknown visitor slowed, treading water a few yards from her. By the noise it made she

surmised it was large. Intuition told her it was not a mink or beaver come to fish. The fine

hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle. Crossing one arm over her breasts and

paddling with the other to keep afloat she inquired, “Is someone there?”

“I thought my eyes deceived me when I spied a fair maiden floating in this pool.”

The unexpected baritone froze her movement. Delilah gasped, almost going under the

surface of the water when she forgot in surprise to paddle for an instant. She scrambled

for something appropriate to say under the circumstances. “I beg your pardon, sir? ‘Tis

most unseemly to disrupt a lady’s swim.”

He chuckled, a low, husky sound making her picture a large, muscular physique. “Ah,

you are right; however, I have yet to determine whether you are a lady or merely a

figment of my overtaxed imagination.”

Heart thudding against her ribcage, she swam backward toward the opposite bank,

struggling to appear calm and collected. The stranger could accost her here and no one

would know to come to her rescue. How senseless I have been. Surely Jester will be no

match for a man intent on harming me. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage.

“I assure you sir, I am not a figment of anyone’s imaginings, least of all yours.”

“Hmm …” the preponderance followed her. “Perhaps then you are a woodland nymph

out to temp any man who passes by to try your nectar?”

Her feet touched bottom, sinking into the sand. Before she could turn and make for the

bank his hands were on her waist. To her horror he cradled it in a firm, yet gentle grip.

“Release me sir, for you do offend a lady, not a nymph.” She fought a growing sense of

panic as he drew her to him.

His minty breath tickled her damp cheek. “You have flesh as any maiden. Do you taste

as sweet as one, too?”

Anger and shock at his boldness brought her hand down with force to slap the surface

of the water. He sputtered in response to the spray splattering his face. Perhaps I might

have the upper hand. “Release me this instant or I shall scream and alert my maid who

sleeps on the bank,” she bluffed.

Despite the warning, he chuckled. “There is no maid, wood nymph, for I walked the

whole perimeter when I spied you here.”

Is his intent to take advantage of a lone woman and defile me? What am I to do?

Summoning her little remaining courage, she tried to reason with him. “I say again,

release me good sir, for my presence will be missed at the manor even as we speak.” She

grimaced at the tremor in her voice betraying her fear. He shifted, his mouth brushing her

ear, and she gasped at the intimate contact.

“Ah, even so I would take a moment to test your lips to see if they are as soft and

sweet as your voice,” he whispered.

 

 

 

When You Don’t Like the Girlfriend/Boyfriend – or When You Do

When You Don’t Like the Girlfriend/Boyfriend – or When You Do

kidteenIn high school, and into what I (now jokingly) call my “false-freshman year” of college I dated a boy.  A boy that I now look back in time and thing “What on earth was I thinking?”  The dissection of that relationship is a blog post for another time and place, but needless to say, it wasn’t a great relationship to be in.

What aids me in that whole 20/20-hindsight thing is the new (to me) knowledge that my parents and friends couldn’t stand him. They hated him. Hated me dating him, hated him.

At one point I looked at my mother and said “WHY didn’t you tell me?” I got the counter answer that if she’d told me, it might have made me date him longer.

Not true, but still, I see where she’s coming from.

Especially now.

With my teenager dating.

With my son having a girlfriend.

He’s fifteen now.  We’ve already lived through the heartbreaking loss of his ‘first love’. A string of very short-lived relationships, and now the one he’s in. It’s lasted some time now.

The husband and I, we have opinions.

We discuss his dating status, and his girlfriend.

But, much like other details and relationships in our life, we say nothing directly good or bad about her to his face.

We will listen when he actually talks to us.

We will try to give him un-biased advice to the best of our ability.

We will let him learn his own lessons.

Be they good or bad.

Because that is how you grow up.

Even if our heart aches every time his does.

Even if our joy at his is great.

Even if we worry.

Every day.

If we’re doing it right.

Cassandra from Queen of Savon by Tricia Anderson

  Tell us a little about yourself. How did you come to your author’s attention? Occupation?

My name is Cassandra.  I am a sorceress.  I am also now Queen of the kingdom of Savon.  I was the personal advisor to King Matthew, a man I loved since we were children.  We were raised together in the palace.  And since I am a sorceress, I came to my author in a dream.  *wink*

What or who is the greatest love of your life? Why? What drew you to them?

My greatest love is Matthew.  I fell in love with him the first moment I laid eyes on him when we were children.  I nearly didn’t marry him since I have no royal blood.  I was nearly married to his Commander of the Army, Victor.  I’ve always felt safe with Matthew.  That is what drew me to him.

What’s your greatest fear?

Losing Matthew like I lost my father and mother.  They were murdered by men following Gorgon, an enemy trying to take over the kingdom.

  How do the other characters in your book view you?

Many, like Victor (my former betrothed) only see my great magic and power.  The citizens of my kingdom see the girl who saved them from starvation.  Some in the palace see only a woman who slept her way to the crown.  Matthew only sees the real me.

 What do you prefer? To spread & hear gossip, or be the creator of gossip fodder?

Neither.  I’ve been the subject of gossip one too many times.  I avoid gossip when I can.

  What was your happiest moment?

Oh, it was definitely marrying Matthew.  It was my wildest dream come true.  I never thought it could happen.

 What trait in others do you find most deplorable?

Deceipt.  Thanks to Victor I learned that painfully first hand when he delivered me to Gorgon himself.  To think I almost wed him…

 The random question: If you were a color, what color would you be and why?

Scarlet, the color of Savon.  I am proud to be a citizen of Savon, my homeland.  And of course, its Queen.

*~*~*~*

QueenofSavon_LRG (1)| [amazon_link id=”B00DGF1MM6″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | ARe | Secret Cravings Publishing |

Blurb:

Cassandra is brought to the palace by her grandfather, the sorcerer Malicar, after her parents are brutally murdered.  After being presented to King Thomas she is raised alongside two boys – Thomas’s son, Matthew and Victor, the young man chosen to be Matthew’s commander of the army.

However her life in the royal palace comes at a price. She is vowed into a life of servitude Matthew’s advisor, forfeiting the dream of having a husband and children of her own.

As they mature into adults, childhood curiosities turn to jealousy and burning desire. Cassandra finds herself caught between the two men and forced to make a decision – to throw away her vows for the life she dreamt about with a man she does not love or to stay shackled to the promises she made as a child to be with the man she wants with her heart, body and soul but cannot have.

 

Excerpt:

In no time, she stood in the courtyard, the soldiers around her completely oblivious to her presence. She glanced up as Victor rode next to her. “Lock yourself in the tower. I will see you when I get back,” he instructed as he kissed her on the cheek.

“Stay safe,” she murmured.

Cassandra looked to the ground as Victor’s horse trotted away. Then, she raised her head as she heard hoof steps approach. Matthew wandered across the courtyard, leading his stallion behind him. His eyes, yearning and desperate, locked on her.

She shuddered as he approached, his stride determined as he wove his way around the soldiers scattered around the courtyard. He stopped, dropping the reins of his horse, when he reached her.

Without warning or care for decency, Matthew cupped Cassandra’s face in his hands drawing her lips to his and parting them in a soul-wrenching kiss. She clung to his arms as he tasted her, clearly searching for confession, answers—her love for him. As he pulled away, he whispered, “Lock yourself in. I could not live another day if anything happened to you.”

Matthew’s fingers caressed Cassandra’s skin once more before they slipped away to grasp his horse’s reins. He glanced at her over his shoulder before he disappeared behind the wall. Cassandra hugged herself tightly, her limbs shaking in uncertainty.

Collecting herself as much as possible, she wound her way to her tower blindly. Her thoughts were incoherent. Matthew? Victor? She rubbed her fingertips against her swollen lips. Both had made their feelings for her abundantly clear. And both were riding out to battle. Above all, the vows she had taken as a child dictated she could have neither of them.

Tears filled her eyes as she collapsed onto her cushion. The only thing she knew with clarity was that she needed to get her thoughts together. It wouldn’t be long before she would be joining them on the battlefield.

*~*

untitledBio:

Tricia Andersen lives in Iowa with her husband, Brian and her three children – her sons, Jake and Jon, and her daughter, Alex.  She graduated from the University of Iowa with a Bachelor of Arts in English and from Kirkwood Community College with an Associate of Arts degree in Communications Media/Public Relations.  Along with writing (which she loves to do), Tricia coaches and participates in track and field, does kickboxing, reads, sews and is involved in many of her children’s activities.

Tricia is a member of the Romance Writers of America and RWA Chapter 177 From the Heart Romance Writers.

Author’s links:

1.  Blog – http://insidethiswritersmind.com/

2.  Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/t.l.andersenauthor

3.  Website – www.triciaandersen.com

4.  Twitter – https://twitter.com/triciaandersen or @triciaandersen

5.  Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5122241.Tricia_Andersen