Tuesday, November 30, 2010

New buy link page

Finally posted a complete listing of buy links for my books.  Huzzah.

All Hallows Blood:

stories with bite o,.,o:

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Where do your ideas come from?

This was original going to be a post on a different blog, but that one appears to have fallen through.  So I'll just keep the idea to myself.

Authors get asked where their ideas come from all the time.  I've been told I'm so creative, and asked how I come up with my stories.  If we were still a more spiritual or heathen society, I could easily say from the Muses, or that I'm just channeling the story of the universe.

But we can't really claim that unseen spirits inspire us, can we?

Ethereal voices might be easier for some people to understand, though.  Because authors' inspirations come from everywhere; song lyrics, movies, overheard conversations, vivid imaginations.  Anything can spark that moment of creativity, and send us careening down a potential story line.  I'm especially prone to random moments of creativity.

Dreams are one of my most common sources for writing material.  I have very vivid dreams, and they're quite often surreal, and usually pretty adventurous.  Most of them are too weird in the way dreams can be, and don't transalate well to stories.  But they serve as a starting point, and get the storytelling juices flowing.  But that's not the only prompts I get.

Sometimes it's an obvious prompt.  Like the movie Legion making me wonder where Lucifer was.  With a title like that, I expected the first angel to be protecting his baby.  What would another war be like, and how would he protect the Antichrist?

Other times, it's something more obscure.  Like typing up role-playing rules for psionicists and finally clicking with a character.  Going from "these powers are cool" to planning out five novels for Keila to endure.

In the end, a lot of it becomes a game of what if.  What if Keil had all these cool powers, but was alone?  What if she had the self-confidence and strength from her gifts, but were out of her elements?  What if an elf came to Earth and became a drug addict?  What if a dragon hunter underestimated a dragon's skills?

And it keeps going from there.  It's really kind of crazy, when you look at it.  Crazy, but undeniably fun.  Awesome too, because no one really knows where the next idea is coming from.

Friday, November 26, 2010

#FridayFlash Karl the wulfen - 4

Karl pulled the pickup into the fuel stop, parking at the far end of the lot.  He didn't need gas; the fuel gauge displayed half a tank.  What the wulfen needed was directions.

He knew the town listed on the truck registration; it was fifteen miles north of his human lover.  Outside of Jenny's house, Karl wasn't familiar with human settlements.  He was counting on the proprietor having at least a map.  Maybe even enough spare tech to have an electronic display.

Glancing around the sparse lot and shabby building, Karl doubted the latter.  The last of mankind's precious tech was being hoarded in capital cities.  Anything useful here had been stripped long ago.

A battered cowbell clanked as Karl opened the door.  He stood in the entrance, letting his eyes adjust as the rest of his senses took everything in.

There were four humans;one behind the counter, two back by the cooler, and one flipping through the magazines.  It wasn't a very big room, maybe thirty feet on a side, and felt even smaller with all the shelves and products.  It would hamper fighting, forcing mostly one-on-one combat.

His eyes became accustomed to the gloom, and he looked at the four men.  They were as ratty as the fuel stop, with a mean look in their eyes.  It took effort to keep his hackles down.

"Do something fer ya?"  The scrawny man behind the counter hunched on a stool, straggly hair hanging down into his eyes, face unwashed and splotchy.

The scent of danger became overwhelming.  Karl smiled, trying not to provoke them.  "Is this the way to Green Valley?"  The wulfen knew it wasn't; Green Valley was Jenny's town.

Scrawny jerked his head to the road.  "Go back four miles.  Take the other fork."  He turned his attention to the scarred counter, dismissing Karl.

"Thanks kindly.  Must have misread the sign."  He turned to leave.

"How's Matt?" asked the one at the magazines.

Karl's blood chilled, and his shoulders scrunched.  Matt was the name on the registration.  There would be problems.  "Pardon?"

Magazine was a big man; six and a half feet tall, built like a linebacker, and intelligent hazel eyes.  He glared perpetually at the world, and narrowed that fierce gaze on Karl.  "Matt.  The man who owns that truck.  How is he?"  Magazine took a step closer.

Everyone's attention was on him.  He could abandon the truck, make a run for it, find Matt's house on his own.  Karl's hand clenched on the door as he prepared to do so.

Then he smelled the silver.

Karl growled, stepping away from the door.  "Matt's feeding the crows."

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving all.  Happy belated Thanksgiving to the Canadians.

This month has flown by, in a year that has flown by.  So very strange.  Especially the changes I've gone through that seem like they happened longer ago.

So, on this day of thanks, let me say what I'm thankful for.  Not necessarily in the order of thankfulness or importance.

I'm thankful for my family.  I need their support and love.  I'm thankful to have my husband, because we've spent too many years apart, and we need each other like nothing else.

Thankful for having a job, and not having to worry where tomorrow's meal will come from.

Thankful for fans and readers and supporters.  Finally being a published storyteller is amazing.

Thankful just to be alive, and to see the wonders of the world.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Writing sequels

I've been a little behind on everything because of annoying little spirits.  Bad things, keeping me away from my work.  But now they're eaten, and leaving me alone.  Joy!

I'm working on a couple sequels right now.  One is the sequel to All Hallows Blood, of course.  Saint Valentine's Clash is looking good. 

I'm also writing a sequel to my short story Necro.  (It's the first story in stories with bite o,.,o )  When I first wrote it, my beta-reader was longing for more.  She thought the story should have been so much longer, with lots and lots more to it.  And now I'm making that.

Of course, she also wants a follow up to The Opening.  Said the ending left her all jaw-dropped and immediately wanting to know what happened next.  Squeed and plead with me to make more.

That longing is a fantastic feeling; people wanting more because they liked it so much.  Not because I didn't give them enough for their investment.  But because my seed has blossomed in them.

I don't plan sequels to my short stories.  I often write them to be little snippets, purposely dynamic and without a hard end.  Makes the world seem more alive, and will let you make up what you want to happen next.  I definitely planned sequels for Keila and Varick to adventure through, but I've tried to make sure each story arc was complete within one novel.

Though, I have developed a couple of underlying plots to tie multiple books together.  Uber bad guys pulling the strings are awesome.

So, look forward to those.

Friday, November 19, 2010

#FridayFlash Karl the wulfen - 3

The man didn't hear Karl, his attention focused on the magazine he held.  Powerful muscles bunched, propelling the wulfen forward, a snarl erupting from him.

Karl was upon the guard before the man looked up.

They tumbled to the ground, Karl nimbly remaining on top.  The hunter screamed, bringing his hands up to protect his face.  Fangs shredded fabric and tore flesh, sinking all the way to the bone.  Blood filled his mouth, and Karl growled happily.

The screams, the bood, the tension all combined to send him into a frenzy.  Wulfen were precariously balanced; they sought calm, yet blood and violence quickly overwhelmed them.  They avoided situations that might cause them to lose control, but this was something Karl needed.

His frenzy wasn't entirely a fugue state.  He was aware of every mouthful of flesh, of every severed blood vessel and cracked bone.  The man's screams became burbling moans, his struggles weakening.  Karl continued to savage him, ripping the human apart.

The blood had cooled by the time Karl came back to himself.  His fur was soaked in gore, and he ached with weariness.  There was too much to do to give in to sleep, so he remained moving.

After a roll in the dirt to clean up, Karl changed back to his human form.  Even though he was naked, he didn't feel the chill in the air.  Staring at the dead hunter, he gritted his teeth.  He should have questioned him, should have left him alive, but he hadn't.

Sometimes being passionate and wild was a drawback.

Karl rifled through their trucks.  Silver ammo, more weapons, food, spare clothes, but no identification.  He dressed and fed himself, then took another pass searching through the trucks.

And found a vehicle registration in a glove box.  Karl smiled, now armed with a lead.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Some book reviews

Not reviews of my books, but me having thoughts on other books.  I know, it seems like I never talk about other books.  Unfortunately, I haven't done a whole lot of reading in the last year.  Probably read more in the last few weeks than I did the rest of the year.  :(

A shame, considering how much I've always loved reading.

But I'm catching up, and shall start sharing more of my booky opinions here.

Friday, November 12, 2010

#FridayFlash Karl the wulfen - 2

Flames reached for the sky, consuming the longhouse and the dead wulfen.  Karl watched mutely, shoulders stiff, fists clenched.  Guilt still filled him, leaving little room for anything else.

Time passed.  The sun set, and the fire continued to rage.  It consumed only the buildings, ancient magic protecting the forest.  Long after the fire died, and the clan hold was completely gone, the magic would remain, defining borders between trees and home.

No longer home.  Karl looked bitterly away, ending his vigil.

he turned his back on the clan hold, putting away every happy memory.  He had a heavy task before he could be happy again.

The human bodies were piled outside the clan hold, weapons beside them.  Karly didn't fear discovery; the wulfen were good at hiding, at being away from human civilization.  It was no accident these slayers were here.  And no one was going to stumble upon their remains.

Using the light of the blaze, Karl began searching the remains for anything to identify the killers.  No wallets, no IDs, not even car keys.  Frustration welled, and Karl growled.  Rising, he kicked a head into the falling night.

Times were troubled, but not so much that humans would invade the Shadow Lands to hunt wulfen.  Even trolls had left humans alone in this decline of technology.  And if mankind was up in arms, why come so deep into the woods after the Blood Hills clan?

Karl would have to get his answers the old fashioned way; track them back to their homes and investigate.

Taking a deep breath, undressing, he settled himself for the change.  For eighteen years he'd been able to harness the beast in his soul, and for eighteen years the shift had hurt.  Time had given him the ability to ignore it, but had never lessened the strain on his body.

Bone lengthened, torqued, shortened.  Joints creaked and popped.  Ligaments strained to their limits, tendons and veins standing out against fever-hot skin.  His skull throbbed as it shifted, teeth withdrawing into his jaw.

The pain grew worse, white hot across his nerves.  he began to growl, collapsing, thoughts dispersed.  Intolerably.  Like always, Karl survived.  Sometimes he didn't want to.

When the change ended, so did the pain.  Nothing lingered, leaving no hint of the agony he'd undergone.  Karl rose on four long legs, a lean silver wolf.  He shook himself, settling into his furry self, then set to his task.

The clan hold was intensely different to wolf senses.  The world lit up with scents and sounds, feeding his brain vast amounts of information.  As wulfen, he was able to process all the sensory data of the animal and understand it as the man.

Death and fire made him edgy.  Karl's hackles rose, but he quelled the instinct to run.  He nosed the dead humans, getting their scents, then began circling the hold.

The woods smelled richly of the clan, and he whimpered as he made his search.  Ignoring traces of his friends and family, he sought only the sour tang of human and weapon.  A single pass around the clearing told him much, none of it pretty.

The humans had come from downwind, skulking along a dry stream.  This deep into the Shadow Lands, the Blood Hills had no need for guards.  Would that they'd remained vigilant, as in the old times.

Nose to the ground, Karl followed the trail miles down the bed.  The slayers had been determined to make a trek like this.

After an house of travel, he found their vehicles.  And one man left on guard.

Karl growled, and began to charge.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Mackey the wonder cat

I love my cat.  I have a wonderful cat.  My last one was very magical, and a great familiar.  This one was never meant to be a familiar, but he's slowly worked his way into that position.

He's still got a lot of kitten aspects, and he mews and whines more than actually meows.  It's charming, and he's a chatterbox.  Except when he won't explain what he's whining about.

One of his more charming aspects comes about at winter time.  We've had a long fall, so it really only got cold in the last week.  I always shower before bed, and sleep on a towel to let it dry.  In the winter, Mackey sleeps on my hair to help me dry.  Only during the winter, and only until it's dry.  It's so cute.

The other neat thing about him lately is the ferrets.  He's always been a little confused about Temerity, the first ferret.  She smells fluffy, and she moves fast, but she's definitely not a rodent.  So she's not for eating, but she's not quite for playing.  He plays with her sometimes, but is wary.  There's a new little boy ferret, and Mackey is in love.  They play, and get along, and the cat is so gentle with him.

It's precious.  I love my cat.

Monday, November 8, 2010

The Walking Dead

That's what I feel like right now; all mind-broken and bumbling and off.  Daylight Saving Time always throws me off, no matter spring or fall.  It is seriously time to do away with this retarded convention, and let the clock stay in place.  Arizona has the right idea.

Probably another week or so until I feel less worn out.

Big welcome to my new followers.  Amazing feeling, getting new readers.  *waves to everyone*

So, I am liking The Walking Dead.  Too bad it's only six episodes long.  I didn't realize that until today.  But there will be a second season.  So, joy on that.

Still waiting for the next seasons of Burn Notice and Breaking Bad.

There's a very wonderful feeling when you help a friend, when you make them happy.  To know that exact moment when their heart lights up.  It's great.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Guest Blog - Backseat Nightmares

My guest blog at Backseat Nightmares went live last night.  YAY!

I gush about blood.  My roommate said I almost sound like a blood fetishist.

*wipes lips*  Who, me?

Friday, November 5, 2010

#FridayFlash Karl the wulfen - 1

This is the start of a serial story I'm starting. A friend at work suggested he be a werewolf character in one of my works, and I finally seized on that idea for the #FlashFriday. It will certainly keep me working on the storyline.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Getting into the editing

I know, I've said that I'm editing Saint Valentine's Clash for a while now.  But I'm serious.  I'm working on it right now.

Just to prove it, here's an excerpt:

"Liebchen, relax."

 I sighed at the familiar voice, and panic fled, taking darkness and pain with it.  I opened my eyes to another dream, this one immensely better.  I lounged on a velvet divan, dressed in a silk and fur robe, one leg bent and raised.  A fire roared in a massive hearth, smelling of pine.  Candles dotted the walls, tiny sparks in the darkness.

 Standing before the fire, dressed in leather and mail, hair braided back from his face and full of bones, stood the vampire.  Varick looked over his shoulder, eyes cutting across the distance, boring into my soul, sparking fires deep inside.  I bit my lip, absorbed entirely by this dream, the German dreaming with me.

 He turned fully to me, resting a long sword on a side table, removing his gloves.  I sat up, the robe parting across pale breasts, my hair curling around my face.  I licked my lips slowly, unable to look away from the feral man before me.  The scent of blood and smoke and death filled the air, along with his ozone musk of predator.  My heart rate jumped, instantly aroused.

Varick threw his gloves aside, growling underneath his breath, eyes possessively locked on my neck.  "I was not expecting you so soon, mein liebchen."  Clawed hands rose to the lacings on his armor, working them loose.  His growl continued, wrapping around my soul, seeping into my heart.  I finally noticed the blood staining him, and I squirmed as my arousal rose.  "I had thought my Valkyrie would still be on her quest."  His shirt parted, pale torso exposed to my lusting eyes.

Even in a dream, the sight of his milky scars caused my throat to clench.  His voice rattling through his chest made every nerve ache, made heat race from my center.  I loved his growl.  "Every hunter needs a break," I whispered, drawing back from the vampire.  He stalked closer like a conqueror coming for his prize.  Me.

Varick loomed over the divan, nostrils flaring as he scented my fear and arousal.  "Or is it that she has not been properly hunted?"  His claws flexed, and I trembled, knowing he was going to pounce on me.  Wanting him to pounce on me.

I shuddered, laying my head on the cushions, my heart racing.  The vampire's sapphire eyes traced the curves of my thighs, his mouth parting ever so slightly.  "And am I suitable prey, my hunter?"

"Always," he growled, falling upon me.  Our mouths met, tongues wrestling against each other.  His claws raked through my hair, grabbing a fist full at the base of my skull.  I cried out as he wrenched my head back, his mouth seeking the pulse in my neck.  I writhed beneath him, sliding my hands up his back, caressing his scars.  My legs locked around his leather-clad hips, holding him close to me.

 I pressed my neck against his fangs, the sharp points teasing my skin.  He was holding back to bring both of us to fever pitch.  I started moaning, begging him to feed in fevered whispers.  My hands went to the back of his head, and I pressed him down, nails digging into his scalp.

Varick yanked my head back farther, driving his fangs deep into my neck with a fierce growl.  I screamed, my entire body shaking, pain racing with ecstasy across my nerves.  My spine arched, and I tried to meld my body with the vampire's.  I wanted him deeper, completely consuming me.

Time distorted in the way it can in dreams.  It seemed both forever, and yet not long enough, that the vampire ravaged me.  I was completely sated, though, when I found myself cuddled in his arms, weak and trembling, riding high on rapture.  I traced the lines of scars along his chest, wanting to remain like this.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Final e-winners, and BIG GIVEAWAY winners

This should have been up earlier, but I was too busy enjoying my long wedding weekend.  So sorry.

So, my final e-copy of stories with bite o,.,o goes to blogger HayleyK

Final e-copy of All Hallows Blood goes to Tweep Evelyn_in_ID.  You followed just before I actually drew, and since I wasn't keeping track of when anyone joined this weekend, you were in the drawing.  Yay!


Winners for autographed copies are...

...for stories with bite o,.,o........  Gorilla Bunny!

....for All Hallows Blood..........  jpapenfuss!

...for Fem-Fangs........              Phantom Paragrapher!

Email me, and I'll get you your copies.

RavenCorinnCarluk @ gmail.com