Friday, October 19, 2012

Eclipse of the Blood Moon - Author Guest Blog

Hello everyone – this is Doris calling from a windswept UK with a sleeping toddler in one arm, and desperate for my lunch, but I daren't disturb him. Only peace I get is when he's asleep…
Yes, a writer's life is so glamorous!
You will often hear me wax lyrically about my critique group UCW, or The Nuthouse Sribblers as our  public face is better known as. We're a group of writers that met online back in 2010 following on from a writing competition, and since those fumbling beginnings we have racked up a total of over sixty individual titles, and six collaborations.
Our latest one is The Eclipse of the Blood Moon.
When the blood moon coincides with Halloween, the forces of darkness unite to wreak their evil spells. Will this All Hallows Eve bring joy or sorrow? Curses abound and destiny calls, as a vampire watches over his human. Devils atone to the moon, and shifters hunt their mate on land protected by a powerful white witch. An angel takes human shape to protect the gypsy girl he loves, and a black widow hunts her prey in human form.
In these five chilling and sexy tales, is love enough to break the cycle? Or is all lost under the orange glow of the menacing sphere in the sky?
I vividly recall chatting to my co-conspirators in Skype, and asking them if they had heard about Evernight Publishing's latest Halloween Anthology Call. I had some ideas for it, and we always share submission calls in our group. As so often happens when we chat and brainstorm, an idea formed around the Blood Moon and Halloween, and I think it was Arya who said, "Why don't we make this our next group project?"
One Pinterest board and some arm twisting of various members later, we were off and away, and the rest is history as they say
Luckily Evernight like the idea, when I pitched our project to them and this Anthology was born J
I leave you with a little excerpt from each one of our stories—enjoy!
Destined Lovers – Doris O'Connor
"You're not running away screaming."
He raised their linked hands over his heart, and she leant into the palm cupping her face.
"I wouldn't get very far if I tried, now, would I? Not with whatever is out there." She held her breath at the fury contorting his features as his fangs ran out just a little, and her pussy contracted in response. This was insane. She didn't react like this to men, ever, only in her dreams. Come morning she could never remember the pleasure inducing shadowy figure; only the nightmares remained—nightmares that now invaded her waking hours and had her facing a real life vampire.
"Besides, if you wanted to eat me, I dare say you would have done so by now."
The hold on her hand grew painful, and the deep growl pitched her arousal higher still. Damn that was sexy.
"You have no idea how much I do want to eat you."
The growled words should have sent her screaming, but they seemed to have the opposite effect on her wayward body. She gave in to instinct and standing on tiptoes ran her free hand through his slightly too long hair and tugged his head down. He went as still as a statue when she touched her lips to his and whispered, "Then eat me."

Atone For The Moon – Raven McAllan

Overhead the blood moon hung low in the sky. Its orange glow cast an eerie shadow over the landscape, making every tiny bush that lined the pathway to the car park look sinister and ready to burst into flames. Lucy shivered. Her skin felt as if the moon had touched her, warning her that things were changing, fast. As if to remind her of the fact, the scar on her mound throbbed violently, and her bum felt as if tiny pin pricks were bombarding it.
She waited anxiously for Nick's reply.
"You scream better than any banshee, Lucy, believe me, but not now," he said, his voice dark and rough. "Please not yet. I'll be happy to make you scream later."
What did he mean by that? Lucy squinted up at him, his face harsh, chiseled and set in the moonlight. His eyes were dark, and she could swear, full of sadness. Her stomach heaved, and she gulped at the swirl of emotion churning around inside it.
 "I can't." The anguish in his voice reached deep inside her, churning her gut, and sending slithers of guilt through her body. "Not here, not yet."
Damn it. "Well I'm not moving until you do." Lucy tugged her hand out of his and folded her arms. Her foot tapped impatiently on the pavement, the staccato noise loud in the silence.
"Sorry then. I've got no choice."

Property Lines – Cherie Nichols

“This land belongs to my pack. Just because my father got distracted by a flash of cleavage doesn’t mean you can tell me what do to.” He growled low at her.
“A flash of cleavage?” Celeste came out of the chair, and moved closer to the cage. Did he really think his father, an Alpha of high standing, would do anything for a “flash of cleavage”?
“Yeah, why else would he have let you take over our most sacred ground if you didn’t sweeten the offer?” He ran his gaze up and down her body.
Celeste narrowed her eyes as she leaned against the cage and looked in at him.
“Well, it’s not like your father knew that there needed to be a witch on this land to ensure the health, wealth, and happiness of your entire pack or anything, is it?”
“That’s an old wives’ tale. One you persuaded my father to believe in.”
With a frown she tipped her head to the side. “Do you have so little faith in your father that he would simply hand over land to anyone?”
“I have full faith in my father, but I have just as much faith that you would use those big breasts, long eyelashes, and suckable lips to get exactly what you want.” He snapped the words.
Celeste simply leaned there waiting for him to realize exactly what he had just said.
Three, two, one
“Dammit, that is not what I meant, and you know it, Cel!”

Gypsy Butterfly – Michaela Rhua

He must be an early riser. His deep, rumbling voice, which hummed a few chords of an unknown song, made her smile to herself. She was unsure of what to do. Usually no one was awake this early, so she had the cabin to herself, but with him there she hesitated. Get over yourself! She walked quietly to the next cubicle, but as she did so, his door opened slowly. Water continued to fall. He may not have locked the door properly. She put her head down trying not to look, but as his cubicle came into view, she could not help but glance in his direction.
The sight was mesmerizing. Strong, long legs led to a tight ass. His waist was small but then broadened upwards to wide shoulders. As he scrubbed his head, his back muscles tightened and relaxed with the movement of his muscular arms. She stopped, just drinking in the sight. Then he turned, and she gasped. Nali covered her mouth to avoid him hearing her there. He stood in the shower with his eyes closed against the soapy suds. Her gaze followed the slow trail of suds downwards as they travelled over the toned torso, over his shaped stomach muscles to his relaxed cock, which still looked unbelievably thick and long. She wondered how large it would be when erect and how it would feel as it slid into her. He flicked his head as fresh water fell, cleaning the soap.

The Black Widow – Arya Grey

I stood on the corner of 9th Avenue, in what used to be the marketplace, and watched the modern Louisiana youth light up the town in their drunken antics. Girls—dressed in nothing more than their undergarments—were hollering, falling sideways on the street with a belly full of the devil's juice and spreading their legs for any passing man. And to think Acadia did this to me for something as innocent as consummating with the love of my life before marriage. She'd have a field day with this new world, if she were still alive.
But the possibility of more like me was hardly on my mind. The blood moon would rise in just two days, and I'd finally get the chance to break Acadia's curse. It was the moment I had waited over a century for.
"Come the second rise of blood, you shall gain a chance to restore your life, but you must prepare to give your heart beforehand…" At least I had gotten that much out of her before I broke her petit fuckin' neck.
I still wore the dried crimson roses and ceramic skulls she had wrapped in her hair, now fossilized into perfect shape, as a trophy. It was the least I could do, considering what she'd done to me, and a further warning to other priestesses alike. It was that or her teeth, but I'd like to think I'm much classier than that.

Have I got you intrigued?

You can find the authors on the web here.
Do come and visit us. We don't bite—much! J

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