Tag: Vampires

Flash: Lips

Erin Penn

Rating: Mature

The mesmerizing lips drew back redder than when they approached. Julia compelled her eyes open with difficulty; her last orgasm was still rifting through her body. She barely felt the ropes tying her wrists and ankles that kept her body attached to the chair even when her spine had bent in half from pleasure.

Kade’s tongue flicked out to gather the salty red moisture before it dripped. Julia’s eyes watched the motion and her nipples tightened. As he continued to back up, she tried to focus on those behind him. Every time she looked at him all she wanted to do was beg for more. Oh God, so much more.

He only had a taste. A quick bite. The movement of his finger tracing his lips as he considered her with black alien orbs brought her eyes back to the most wonderful, pleasurable, frightening thing in her world. Her breath was drawn from her. His teeth so perfect.

Breaking contact, Kade’s black eyes became engrossed by the single drop of blood left on his index finger.

Julia heard the scraps and movements of others in the room. She searched inward for terror. The kidnapping, the ride, the punches, and being tied up. She had wanted to scream and scream and could not. She tried to struggle and could not.

Now satisfaction provided calm and languish to her mind and muscles. She could scream now but didn’t want to. Too much effort. The logical part of her mind tried to prod the emotional side to panic with no avail. Eventually it gave up.

Trying to puzzle out the black and the beings inhabiting it would take energy Julia no longer had. She felt so good. The easiest thing to focus on was Kade’s lips.

“My dear little angel,” the lips formed words. “You are a tasty treat like few others.”

The head and body turned denying her view of the lips for a precious few seconds. “I wish I had known,” Kade projected to the four corners as he spun. “I wouldn’t have a called for a joint feast but kept this morsel for myself.”

Kade knelt in front of her and whispered; the sound still carried. “But I did and I will not renounce my invitation to share.”

She watched as the lips approached, hoping. She moaned as they drew back when he stood from paradise lost.

“Harris, Pascal, Eugene. Please, my friends, partake a sip. Remember to leave enough for the others to savor.”

 (words 415 –  originally appearing at Sunday Fun on Breathless Press 1/20/2013 -The original photo was of unknown copyright so did not put on my site – published on old blog 1/20/2013; republished in new blog format on 4/9/2017)

Flash: 50-Word Prompts (7, 8, 10 & 11)

Erin Penn

Image courtesy of wpclipart.com

Third of four postings from the 50-word Flash Friday, where 12 prompts were given to writers for mini-flashes. The prompts were words or photos, and the flashes were limited to fifty words.

Today’s flashes are the stand-alone flashes based on word prompts. I think “Arms” was my favorite prompt; so many different meanings to the word. I tried to go with a non-traditional definition of the word for a romance writer. I wanted to attempt twisting the word away from standard after seeing what other people did with the prompt “Thong(s)”.

 

PROMPT SEVEN: Arms

“That is a lot of guns.” Bambi whispered, staring at the armory. Why on earth had Mason assembled all this? Shaking off the fear-factor, Bambi reached for an automated assault weapon. The zombies were about to get some hurt on. (words 40)

 

PROMPT EIGHT: Casablanca

The next clue was “White House.” George spent hours searching the local video stores political tape selections with no luck. The last store had the great presidential speeches next to classical black and white. Duh! He pulled the Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman movie out and found a new post-it-note. (words 50)

 

PROMPT TEN: Fig Roll

“Fig rolls follow a tradition starting in ancient Egypt with fig-paste stuffed pastries” The professor droned on. Abdul groaned. He needed to update his persona, which meant college in the twenty-first century. He had hoped a culinary degree would avoid the history he had already lived through. (words 47)

 

PROMPT ELEVEN: Myriad

The future. Must be so easy for those who couldn’t see it. Melusine froze. Myriad uncomfortable paths lay ahead. Choosing quickly, she moved on the one denying her love for a year. Staying still would have killed too many people, although it meant meeting Douglas tomorrow. (words 46)

(first published 2/8/2013; republished new blog format 3/19/2017)

Flash: Flower Power

Erin Penn

Woman with Flower Stock Art

Image courtesy of imagerymajestic at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature (Language)

“Gods, I cannot believe what a bunch of losers you guys have become.” Donnie waved with the hand not holding his beer, encompassing the group sitting throughout the upscale living room where they had collapsed after an exhausting evening of interspecies political wrangling. The rant went on and on about the old days and how everything had changed since his friends started pairing off with “the girls,” finally ended with, “We’re monsters for crying loud!”

The host adjusted himself on the arm of the cream and maroon striped settee to better watch his wife as she bustled around the kitchen. “Just because I have chosen to hand the reigns to someone does not mean I am tame.” He nodded happily as Ketzal gave him a wave before she opened the refrigerator. With her hidden behind the stainless steel door, Ebon returned his full attention to his guests, smiling with his canines exposed.

“Get real, the ring on your hand is like a ring through your nose,” Donnie sneered. “Dude, you are so pussy whipped I can’t even hear the crack of the leather anymore.”

Ebon moved faster than even the vampire of the group of immortals could observe. One moment Donnie was leaning against the sofa with Maria and Lorenzo, the next the shifter was holding him at arm’s length with Donnie’s legs swinging nearly a foot above the floor. Black hair sprouted along Ebon’s elongated arms, rock-hard muscular arms ending in claws around Donnie’s neck. The back of the dark elf’s head lay gently against an undamaged silk wallcovering.

Everyone stopped moving, and those that could held their breath.

“Do not think my marriage makes me any less dangerous.” Black eyes glowed red in the centers. Ebon stepped closer to the wall, bending the arm without effort while keeping the elf suffocating mid-air. He brought his short snout and full set of glistening teeth closer to the Wild Hunt rider face.

“Dinner is ready in ten…Ebon, my heart, put Donnie down.”

“Dead or alive,” he growled unmoving, staring into the eyes of his trembling prey.

Ketzal’s sweet voice replied. “I don’t really care, but if you kill him, you will need to dispose of the body after dinner.”

“What are we having?”

An exasperated puff came behind him. “What do you think?”

“Something tomatoey,” her husband replied after sniffing the air close to the elf’s neck.

“Creole Boil.”

If anything, Ebon’s toothy grin grew wider. “You live.” He opened his left hand.

Donnie fell to the floor gasping, rubbing his neck.

“And if you have a minute, can you fetch some wine for the meal?” The brunette swung her waist long hair behind her as the shifter stalked closer to her to give her ear a quick bite.

Whispering into it, which did not obscure the communication to anyone in the room because of their heightened senses, he said, “I will need to give it a taste to choose the right match.”

The goddess of flowers and ephemeral things giggled softly a second before turning her lips to his. “I just sampled the dish.”

He kissed her a long moment.

“The Sidewood Sauvignon Blanc, 2012, should do.” He opened the small door between the living room and kitchen for the wine cellar stairs.

The satisfaction of Ketzal’s sigh left no doubt about the happiness of the couple’s relationship, even as it moved into its second decade. “Dinner is ready for seating as soon as someone helps me set the table.”

Tykevius and Carissa glided from where they had been hovering near the ceiling toward the dining area.

“Oh, and Donnie.” Ketzal’s musical tones carried the bass throb of power.

The elf snapped his head toward the Aztec goddess.

Her sweet smile looked even scarier than her husband’s. “I wouldn’t have seconds if I were you.”

(words 636, first published January 15, 2017)

Author Spotlight: Kalayna Price

Erin Penn

Kicking It Amazon Book Cover

Book Cover from Amazon

The quiet, sweet dark voice whispers, “Want to fire dance?”

A USA Today Bestselling author, Kalayna Price, has two series: Alex Craft (Grave Witch) and Novels of Haven (Once Bitten), both featuring strong women with powers carrying debilitating prices. Alex Craft sees ghosts (who are great spies, but terrible backup) and Haven has vampires. I loved the Alex Craft books and look forward to reading her Haven series.

At convention panels, Ms. Price needs to be mic’ed – her speaking voice is as soft as her pen is strong. But her witty advice is worth hearing as much as her writing is worth reading, so I will sit in the first row listening to everything.

You can find out more about Ms. Price at her website, including her fire dancing: Kalayna Price.

Editing Rant: Copper Pennies

Erin Penn

Fingers Holding A Penny Stock Photo

Image Courtesy of Gualberto107 at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

What do your characters know?

So last editing rant I went off about Know Your Topic. You don’t want to lose readers because you presented parasailing or embroidery incorrectly. If you don’t know the topic find someone who does: topic experts, beta readers, at least a research librarian whom you are keeping in chocolates and coffee.

Equally important be aware of what you character knows.

This isn’t limited to the more common Point of View (POV) main character (MC) limitations; you may know character B dyed her hair yesterday, but MC doesn’t know yet so describes character B as a blonde. Don’t get me wrong, as an author making certain you only let your MC work from the information known to them rather than to you as the writer is essential. And challenging.

But you also need to limit them on what they are familiar with. Having a twenty-fourth century engineer know how to use a twentieth century keyboard to input information into a computer system is improbable.

Or a twenty-something person forty years after the zombie Apocalypse comparing the scent of blood to new pennies. Yes, this is a common comparison to the point of being clique. But someone born after coins stopped being minted isn’t likely to know what new pennies smelled like.

A person who has never seen the shore would not understand what the salty breeze meant.

Someone who had never been off a spaceship isn’t only going to be shocked by no sky – no walls is as big an issue. And the ship isn’t breathing. Could they even sleep at night? No mechanical noise means “we are all about to die”. How long does it take for the panic to wear off?

Back to the Smell of Blood – as an editor I couldn’t rewrite the line about new pennies. But I did find an article on the scent of blood. If you are describing lycanthropes, vampires, or just have splashes of blood throughout your manuscript you may want to follow the link to Writeworld – “Describing the Smell of Blood”. (AMENDMENT  on 10/24/2019 (original post 11/8/2016) – The link for the Writeworld article  is now dead. Search on “describing the smell of blood”, there are a lot of resources now.)

(sigh) … And it is research like this that puts writers on watch lists.

WRITING EXERCISE: Create a scene (500 words or less) where your WIP character describes a common day item on your desk s/he is not familiar with and what the actions are taken to discover its use.