Claimed By the Beast Nocturne Cravings

December 27, 2013

 

 

 

 

 

9781460325254

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Available January 1

Dr. Daphne Panetta is desperate to find a cure for a virus that turns its victims into zombie werewolves. Infected Konstantin Gevaudan should be nothing more than a test subject, but the only thing Daphne fears more than the beast within him is her own intense attraction to the virile man himself….

When the research facility where he’s being held goes up in flames, Konstantin has no choice but to take Daphne on the run with him. For the desire burning between them can mean only one thing: she is his true mate. But how can he claim her without changing her—forever?

 

Excerpt:

 

Where the others were seemingly mindless killing machines, there was a self-awareness in his eyes. He was a predator, to be sure, as ravenous as the rest of them. What made him terrifying was his cunning, his obviously human logic.

And this one had a name—Konstantin Gevaudan.

Obviously aware of her scrutiny, he stepped forward, prowling toward the observatory as if she were the one on display.

The shadows fell away like a cloak, the bright sodium lights blaring down on his massive form. He stood, rising up bipedal and perfect, with none of the abnormalities of the others except for those eyes blazing that strange electric blue, like an LED bulb. Form followed function, each part of his body designed with the same purpose in mind—to be the most efficient killing machine. Thickly muscled, but his tread was light, graceful. His movements were fluid synchronicity. In fact, he was horrifyingly beautiful.

He knew it, too. The beast stopped under a particularly focused shaft of light, displaying himself for her. The sleek pitch of his silky pelt, the sculpted planes of his musculature so much like a human’s but still so alien, and the sly, knowing look in his eyes.

Daphne found herself almost hypnotized by the creature, unable to look away. Maybe he was somehow part King Cobra and he’d caught her in a death sway. Her rational, educated brain told her this was more information than they’d ever been able to gather before. No matter how uncomfortable it was, how ugly, or even how she ached for Bethany, she had to keep him engaged. The cameras were still recording.

Although, the primal, basic animal part of her brain screamed for her to break the spell, to flee. To hide away so his horrible eyes couldn’t dig down into the meat of her, into her fear. The faint beep from the lapel of her lab coat vaguely registered—she was excreting pheromones at dangerous levels. The infected could scent them even through all the barriers.

The throng of the deformed, snarling infected were suddenly in frenzy mode, throwing themselves against the electrified walls, their claws scraping down the enchanted glass as they struggled to get at her—prey.

A sound that Daphne first thought was an earthquake rumbled deep, until she realized it was coming from it—him—Konstantin.

His muzzle retracted in a snarl, revealing supernaturally straight white teeth that looked more at home on a barracuda than a wolf. She shuddered and his lips twisted farther. He turned his great head slowly toward the wolves, as if focusing the sites of a weapon.

The bass sound began to build, but it wasn’t until the space around him trembled with its might did the noise erupt from him in a deafening roar that was itself the hand of a vengeful god smiting the wretched masses.

Infected wolves yelped and whined as their ears bled and it seemed their nervous systems had been paralyzed by the sound. They dropped to their bellies, their yips quickly fading.

Daphne prayed to any gods that were listening they’d caught a digital imprint of the roar and could reproduce it. It could be the weapon they needed if they couldn’t synthesize a cure.

His attention snapped back to her, his appraisal blatant, intense, and obviously human. She refused to look away or back down, even though her adrenaline spiked again.

The beast lifted his nose to the air with purpose, his too sharp eyes still focused on her. As if that scent were some delectable sweet she’d prepared especially for him. He stalked forward closing the space, coming as close to the observatory bubble as any of them had ever dared.

That primal part of her screamed at her to run and the logical part agreed, but she stood her ground. She knew he could smell her fear like a perfume, but that was the difference between humans and beasts. Daphne refused to be controlled by her lizard brain. She was a rational being in charge of her own actions.

The only thing between them now was the glass. She swallowed hard, her saliva thick as a wad of cotton in her throat. Daphne’s fingers hovered over the button that would slam the panic protocol wall between the enclosure and the observatory.

His regard was as intense as it had been before, but instead of staring her down, he sized her up. His gaze lingered on her breasts.

Undeniably male, and human.

Suddenly where there’d been a beast, there was a man. She jerked back from the glass, unable to control the visceral reaction to the intrinsic need to put more space between them. If she’d thought the beast was horrifically beautiful, the man was even more so.

Daphne could see the beast looking out at her from underneath his skin.

What beautiful skin it was—smooth and unblemished, like alabaster. He was as pale as the moon, the silvery sheen of his flesh utterly surreal. His powerful body seemed compacted now, coiled and waiting to strike. This creature was still every inch a predator.

Her gaze was drawn down from his broad shoulders, his pecs, his defined abs, and lower still to that ridged triangulation of muscle that directed her study to the last place she wanted to look.

Yes, every long, thick, hard inch of predator.

Already high on adrenaline, her body responded in kind. Fear and lust induced many of the same bodily responses. Clinically, it was a simple matter of biology, as basic as breathing.

Only her breathing wasn’t basic. It shuddered out of her in staccato bursts, her lips plumped, nipples tightened, heartbeat thundered, and her thighs clenched hard against the electric jolt of desire that stabbed through her.

Daphne jerked her eyes back to his face—it looked like something that belonged in an art museum. Or maybe it was the face of the Devil himself, with those damned infected blue eyes staring back at her.

His mouth curved in a scimitar of a smile, lifting his head as the animal had done. Scenting the air—her desire.

Even though he looked like a man, he wasn’t. She knew the bio suit worked. He’d infected Bethany, ripped her humanity away from her not on instinct, not because no matter what he ate he was always starving, but because he simply wanted to.

Guilt flooded her again, disgust at her body’s reaction to the monster.

His head cocked to the side, as if he could hear her thoughts and found them strange. He splayed his hand on the glass, the electric current there having no effect on him. Or if he felt it at all, he demonstrated no reaction.

Her hand rose of its own accord, slowly like moving through water, and settled palm flat against the spot where his rested. She wanted to jerk her hand away, he was a monster. He was a test subject. He was the enemy.


Busy Little Holiday Bees

December 13, 2013

I feel like a chicken running around without my head. This time of year seems to always be so busy, but I never feel like I’ve accomplished much. From trying to do all the shopping, the cleaning, the wrapping, the decorating, and getting in time with family and friends, there’s not much time left for writing.

And that would be fine if I didn’t have a deadline. My first book with HQN as Sara Arden is due in two days. TWO DAYS. I’m so nervous about it because it’s unlike anything I’ve ever written before. It’s small town romance. I won’t say it’s sweet, it’s a little spicy. Like Mexican Hot Chocolate. Just a bit of  red pepper for flavor. It’s taking a lot out of me to write it. I mean, I invest in all of my characters, but these two people have wrung me dry. I find myself sitting at the computer and sniffing as I type. Then you throw the holiday goodness on top of that, well, I’m a mess.

So let’s hear your favorite funny holiday traditions. Elf on a Shelf? Ugly Sweater Contest?

This year mine was signing my daughter up for a call from Santa. She hung up on him because she thought he was a predator and reported it to me immediately. The look on her face was priceless. But I guess that’s what you get when you have parents and grandparents who are corrections officers.

What’s your favorite thing to do  during the season that makes you laugh?


Introductions Are In Order

July 26, 2013

Well, hello there! 

I’m Saranna DeWylde and I’m so very pleased to share that I’ve been invited to join Musetracks. I had kind of a fangirl moment because I’ve always loved the blog and the ladies who run it. Seeing as this is my first post, we won’t get too hot and heavy. I think some hand-holding and dinner is in order.

To celebrate, I’ve decided to give away a copy of my upcoming book Desperate Housewives of Avalon. So what do you have to do? Nothing, really. Just introduce yourself and tell me who your favorite author is and why or alternatively, what kinds of posts you’d like to see from me. Nothing too complicated. I’ll post the winner on next Friday’s blog. 🙂

Desperate Housewives of Avalon

The Desperate Crew is back with a romp through the resort island of Avalon when Aphrodite convinces Artemis it’s past time for her to get her V-card punched. Artemis doesn’t want any messy entanglements, and has a taste for bad boys, and the sexy Mordred Le Fey fits the bill. Too bad he’s cursed by the Lady of the Lake.

Aphrodite has had her fill of Love being used as a curse and decides to give Vivienne her comeuppance, but ends up with trials of her own when all she wanted was a vacation.

Secretly, Vivienne thinks she deserves to be punished because she’s been in love with Arthur since she handed him Excalibur and she engineered the fall of Guinevere and Camelot. Gwen’s marriage to Lancelot has been in name only since 1912. A fact that’s only made Avalon’s resident evil enchantress Morgan Le Fey too happy. Come along for the ride as these goddesses take control of their Fate (or so they think) and find their Happily Ever Afters.

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Welcome Saranna DeWylde and THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF MOUNT OLYMPUS

September 5, 2011

Hello All,

I’m super excited to have this writer here today. I was lucky enough to find and befriend Saranna DeWylde during the Next Best Celler contest at Textnovel, and I’m extremely lucky we’ve stayed pals since. I could list her qualities (one of which happens to be a ridiculously fast and super efficient crit partner who puts me to SHAME) but I’ll let you get to know her through her writing, which is what drew me to her in the first place.

Saranna recently released her uber sexy THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF MOUNT OLYMPUS and she’ll be giving away one PDF copy to one lucky comment EVERY TEN COMMENTS! Sweet!

I loved this book in its earliest draft and now – awesome.

Love the cover!

Welcome Saranna!

Let’s start out easy! What do you write and is there one genre you wish you could write but don’t?

I write paranormal romance, urban fantasy, contemporary and erotica. I also write a bit of true crime. I used to be a horror author but after my employment as a corrections officer, it sort of changed what I wanted out of my career and what I wanted to put out into the world. I’ve even got a romantic suspense that’s been poking at me to give it some attention.

The second part of the question is harder to answer. I don’t really write in genre, (contrary to labels I slapped on myself in the previous paragraph. *laughs*) I write the story that wants to be told. The one living in my head. So, if I have a hard-boiled cop story in my head, that’s what I write. If I have a historical in my head, I’ll write it. I think anyone can do the same as long as you’re true to the characters and the story that needs/wants to be told.

Um, the correction’s officer part is true and Saranna just sold her memoir about that time in her life. WOOT! Okay, back on subject. Are you a plotter or pantser?

Mostly a pantser. I usually have a general idea of what I want to happen, major plot points in my head when I start. I don’t write it down though, or make a story arc or an *shudders* outline. I do, every so often, write down some GMC statements where I can see them. Goal, Motivation, and Conflict. Just to remind myself what drives my characters and that really helps me keep them in character so I don’t have to go back and delete 20K of material because it’s not working.

Can you tell us what made you decide to self-publish Housewives?

It was a tough decision, but everyone who read it as far as agents and editors were concerned told me they thought it was too snarky. But my critique partner and other beta readers loved it. More importantly, *I* loved it. I believe in it. There is so much more to it than the snark and it’s using the gods as they were meant to be used. As an allegory for ourselves and what I like best about romance–in that it shows us redemption and happily ever afters are possible for all of us.

Further, publishing is changing so fast now. It’s shifting with new technology, new ways to get stories to readers and new ways to connect with each other. Platforms, markets, and even product are all in a spin. I wanted to dip my toe in the water and check it out. So far, it’s been great. I got exactly what I wanted for this book as far as character, content, even my cover is exactly what I imagined.

Regardless of whether I’m with a traditional publisher, an epublisher, and indie publisher or publishing myself building a backlist is important.

I had requests for something after I did some promo for my Kensington books that won’t be out until 2012.

So, you add all of that together in a big blender and get the self-publish smoothie.

Smoothies, yum. Okay, even a publishing smoothie is yummy considering so many of my fav authors are putting out titles on their own. So is there one pro and one con you’ve found from your experience self-pubbing?

They’re the same thing. Being responsible for everything myself. It was cool because like I mentioned earlier, I got to produce this product exactly to my specifications and my visions.

But wow, the pressure. There were some things I had trouble with and luckily I have awesome friends who were right there to jump in the fire with me and help me out.

Any advice for those considering the self-pub path?

I’ve only done it with one book so far, but I’ve learned that people do expect more from a self-pub book because of the stigma of being self-pubbed. It’s not as bad as it used to be, there are a lot of good books out there self-pubbed. But don’t let it get to you. Accept it and prove them wrong. Put out the best product you can. Engage an editor, take time with your cover and remember a book isn’t just your creative expression, it’s a product. If you want people to buy it, you have to treat it like a product and you are the brand.

Okay, now some fun stuff:

Who’s your favorite character in Housewives and why?

Thanatos. He’s so modern, kind of cyberpunk. He’s like Death living in The Matrix. He’s one of the most powerful gods, but he wears it so casually. He accepts what he is, a little dark and brooding, (I mean, come on. He’s Death.) but he still has a sense of humor, he’s witty. Hades was the one I thought I’d fall for, but I ended up being stuck on him just a little bit.

Where did the idea for HOUSEWIVES come from?

I was talking shop in chat with a few friends of mine and we were talking about cool titles. I threw that one out there and one of my friends demanded I log off and write it. So I did.

HA! I know that friend. She’s a slave driver. Thank goodness! Tell us a secret about Housewives. Were there any deleted scenes you’d put in the extras category if this were a dvd?

There were not any deleted scenes. Usually, there is something I delete but the words flew hot and fast with this one. I would just sit down in the morning and crank out sometimes three chapters a day and it was surprisingly very clean. Although, I had trouble with Demeter’s chapters. I didn’t like her much and living in her head was hard for me until she learns her lesson.

As I’m a card carrying metal head, it may surprise those of you who know me that this book had its own CD. Lady Gaga’s Fame Monster. Each couple has a song. I don’t write to music anymore, I used to, but I weaned myself away from it. Although, I could hear these songs in my head when I wrote them.

Hera/Hades-Dancing in the Dark

Demeter/Eros- Bad Romance

Nyx/Apollo-Alejandro

Abstinence/Zeus-Monster

Persephone/Thanatos-Teeth

And if this were a DVD, I’d have an interactive section where you could dress them up like live-action Barbie dolls.

This is always hard, but can you tell us a secret about you?

I, the all powerful Amazon Goddess of Doom, am afraid of cows. I hate them. The neighbor’s bull broke through the electric fence to chase me a 1/2 mile UP-friggin-HILL home. And ever since then, the cows across the street watch me with their big soulful eyes, but inside, I know they’re laughing.

Or they could just be looking for my mini Amazons. They like to feed them Hershey’s kisses. (When my youngest was smaller, she thought if she gave them Hershey’s, she’d get chocolate milk so she’d sneak over and give them some.)

LOL! COWS?!? Hey I can’t say much since I freeze up like Medusa glared at me whenever a spider makes an appearance. Thanks for being a good sport.

Here’s an excerpt of HOUSEWIVES:

NYX

     “Thanatos!” she cried when she saw her oldest son lounging on her temple steps.

     “Hey, Ma.” He stood and endured her hug.

     “I thought you were working all week. Wasn’t there a natural disaster in South America?”

     “Wouldn’t you know it, it’s so cool. Red Cross showed up and the volunteers saved a bunch of people.”

     Nyx hadn’t seen him in what felt like a century. In fact, she almost started counting on her fingers to see if it had been that long. “I suppose you’re hungry. Fig cakes with cream cheese frosting?”

     Thanatos patted his flat stomach. “You know me so well.”

     “Why are you outside? You could have gone in, you know.” Nyx pushed the door open.

     “I didn’t want to startle you. Might fall and break a hip and I’d feel bad.” He shrugged.

     “You little shit,” she laughed. He was always teasing her about her age. She was a Titan after all and older than all of the gods. She was one of the last of the old guard; one Zeus was sure wouldn’t try to overthrow his power. He was mistaken about that one, only she didn’t want the power herself. She wanted him to stop treating Hera like crap. Or divorce her. That at least, would be honest.

     He smirked back at her. Of her two sons, Thanatos was most like her. She loved her children the same, but she had a special kinship with Thanatos.

     “So uh, what’s the deal with Persephone and Hades?” he asked as he followed her inside.

     Tartarus on cracker! What was with that girl that these dark types were so stuck on her? Was it because she was blond? Nyx just didn’t get it. Not that she had anything against the girl, but it wasn’t like she was as pretty as Hera. Or as smart as Athena.

     “You have been out of the gossip loop for awhile, yeah? They broke up, so to speak.”

     “He let her go? Dumbass.” Thanatos shook his head.

     “What would you have him do? Sacrifice the world for her?”

     “Well, yeah,” Thanatos answered as if that were the only reasonable response.

     Nyx couldn’t argue with that, but she tried anyway. “Hades released her from the curse too. He didn’t want her to be unhappy.”

     At that, her son was silent for a moment. “So how hard do you think Demeter would smite me if I asked Persephone out?”

     “She better not smite you, or I’ll kick her ass up over her shoulders. She has winter, but I’ll drench the world in eternal night if she tries.” Nyx was thoughtful for a moment. “Unless of course you were unreasonably handsy or demanding. Or acted like Zeus. Or—,”

     “I get the picture, Ma. By the way, you look great.”

     “You’re just saying that because my hair looks like yours now.” She scowled.

    “Moonlight and stardust. No one can resist.” He smirked as if it was just his trial to bear, being that attractive.

   “Nice deflection. I mean what I said. If you want Persephone, do what you will, but don’t be a dick. Got it?”

     “Yeah, Ma. Don’t be a dick. Got it,” he recited dutifully.

     “So I have to ask. What’s with you dark and tortured types and this girl?”

     “I dunno. She’s hot. It’s not like I want to marry her or anything. It would just be a date. Maybe a kiss.” He considered for a moment. “Maybe something else.”

     “That girl is a virgin, Thanatos.” Yes, he was her son and she loved him dearly, but he was one-hundred percent male—thinking with his parts. She had to struggle not to sigh.

     “She’s probably got a family of bats living in there after all this time. Don’t you think it would be okay if she—,”

            “You know, we so don’t need to have this conversation.” She threw her hands up in defeat. Nyx loved that her boys talked to her, confided in her, but there were some things a mother just didn’t need to know.

Thanks so much for coming by hon. Okay everyone, Saranna’s an open book so if you have questions, ask away. And make sure you leave a comment to get a chance at a free copy!
And here’s where you can find THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF MOUNT OLYMPUS:
Amazon
B&N
ARe