Don't forget to visit the fabulous website for this special book, too. I'm reading it now, and it's absolutely magical!!!
The Lost Diary of Don Juan
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Douglas Carlton Abrams
Monday, November 17, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Royal Consort - an excerpt...
Today has started off strange in some ways, I’ve just been offered a contract with a new publisher for me, and even the genre is a bit different for me. I’ve taken traditional adventure fantasy, the kind of quest-type thing that was born with LOTR or The Sword of Shannara books, and tossed in romance and a touch of the erotic… As a mixed genre it sounds pretty wild, doesn’t it? The story is called Royal Consort and you’ll hear more about it in coming months once I have it on my website.
One of the great joys of ePublishing is the opportunity to walk outside the traditional realms of fiction, to mix it up a little, and see what falls onto the page. In this case, a bit of sorcery, swords, epic quest, sibling rivalry, a handsome prince, and a magical world in jeopardy. How’s it sounding to you so far?
Here’s a peek at the tale, so please do let me know if you think this is a thing that will work, or just one of those weird things that should have been left alone????
ROYAL CONSORT - an excerpt:
Rienn nodded. When his hands on her waist moved her, she shivered as he slipped free of her body. “I’ll order a bath and some food,” he told her.
She grabbed his wrist and shook her head. “Later. I want you to hold me.”
Rienn stretched out and pulled her down to him, spooning her body to his when he pressed her back to his chest.
It seemed they’d only slept for minutes when the huge doors of the Prince’s chambers were flung open and the spacious room was invaded by numerous men, all bearing swords.
“Rienn.”
The word was a warning, and Sherindal slithered from the bed as soon as he released her. She scooped up her sword as she rolled, oblivious to her nakedness as she whirled to face the first rush of the attack. Somewhere through the early morning hours since they’d made love, Rienn had thought to retrieve his breeches, she noted from the corner of her eye. He had managed to gain his weapon as well, and they fought, back to back.
Sherindal hissed in fury and pain when the second of the men who engaged her slipped past her defense and inflicted a wound near her waist. It was a surface injury and she quickly rewarded him by slicing off his sword hand. Howling in agony, he toppled back, then fled as he recovered his footing several feet away from her.
Rienn had killed two men and was about to run through the third when Sherindal’s voice filled the room and the sword she wielded, called Huntor, rose with her song. The attackers froze momentarily, those two who remained, and she smiled with grim pleasure as the weapon cut them down, then drifted back to her outstretched hand, coming to rest in her grasp with near peaceful ease.
“Your blood-thirsty weapon has been sated nicely this morning,” Rienn observed with a tense glance at the gleaming blade.
“Who are they?” she asked, her tone as cold as her emerald eyes when she met his gaze.
“Why would you assume I know?” he retorted instantly. “This is hardly what I would consider an invigorating start to the day!”
“Really?” She smiled without humor. “It is one of the more interesting diversions you might have provided, Rienn.” Her laughter was faintly mocking, and not a little bit ironic.
Rienn’s handsome features suffused with rage and he reached for her, gripped her bare arm with fingers that dug into her flesh like steel bands.
“You evil bitch,” he whispered darkly.
Sherindal smiled, and this time it was genuine. She nodded, kissed his chin, the closest she could get to his mouth from her severely disadvantaged height, then she gasped as a fiery lance of pain reminded her of the slash near her left hip.
“Enough, Rienn,” she capitulated.
He released her, scooped her into his arms, and placed her in the centre of the feathered mattress of his bed. He looked closely at the injury, yanked the bell pull near the bed, and then went to the heavy wardrobe at the far end of the chamber.
His guards were rushing along the corridor when he returned to the bed and helped Sherindal into one of his linen shirts. She bit her bottom lip against another stab of pain, and laughed in macabre amusement when she spotted the duo who entered the room.
“They look rested enough, my love,” she muttered, eyes chilly and contemptuous.
Rienn glared at her, then turned an even fiercer visage to the men who should have prevented the assault on his private rooms.
One of the great joys of ePublishing is the opportunity to walk outside the traditional realms of fiction, to mix it up a little, and see what falls onto the page. In this case, a bit of sorcery, swords, epic quest, sibling rivalry, a handsome prince, and a magical world in jeopardy. How’s it sounding to you so far?
Here’s a peek at the tale, so please do let me know if you think this is a thing that will work, or just one of those weird things that should have been left alone????
ROYAL CONSORT - an excerpt:
Rienn nodded. When his hands on her waist moved her, she shivered as he slipped free of her body. “I’ll order a bath and some food,” he told her.
She grabbed his wrist and shook her head. “Later. I want you to hold me.”
Rienn stretched out and pulled her down to him, spooning her body to his when he pressed her back to his chest.
It seemed they’d only slept for minutes when the huge doors of the Prince’s chambers were flung open and the spacious room was invaded by numerous men, all bearing swords.
“Rienn.”
The word was a warning, and Sherindal slithered from the bed as soon as he released her. She scooped up her sword as she rolled, oblivious to her nakedness as she whirled to face the first rush of the attack. Somewhere through the early morning hours since they’d made love, Rienn had thought to retrieve his breeches, she noted from the corner of her eye. He had managed to gain his weapon as well, and they fought, back to back.
Sherindal hissed in fury and pain when the second of the men who engaged her slipped past her defense and inflicted a wound near her waist. It was a surface injury and she quickly rewarded him by slicing off his sword hand. Howling in agony, he toppled back, then fled as he recovered his footing several feet away from her.
Rienn had killed two men and was about to run through the third when Sherindal’s voice filled the room and the sword she wielded, called Huntor, rose with her song. The attackers froze momentarily, those two who remained, and she smiled with grim pleasure as the weapon cut them down, then drifted back to her outstretched hand, coming to rest in her grasp with near peaceful ease.
“Your blood-thirsty weapon has been sated nicely this morning,” Rienn observed with a tense glance at the gleaming blade.
“Who are they?” she asked, her tone as cold as her emerald eyes when she met his gaze.
“Why would you assume I know?” he retorted instantly. “This is hardly what I would consider an invigorating start to the day!”
“Really?” She smiled without humor. “It is one of the more interesting diversions you might have provided, Rienn.” Her laughter was faintly mocking, and not a little bit ironic.
Rienn’s handsome features suffused with rage and he reached for her, gripped her bare arm with fingers that dug into her flesh like steel bands.
“You evil bitch,” he whispered darkly.
Sherindal smiled, and this time it was genuine. She nodded, kissed his chin, the closest she could get to his mouth from her severely disadvantaged height, then she gasped as a fiery lance of pain reminded her of the slash near her left hip.
“Enough, Rienn,” she capitulated.
He released her, scooped her into his arms, and placed her in the centre of the feathered mattress of his bed. He looked closely at the injury, yanked the bell pull near the bed, and then went to the heavy wardrobe at the far end of the chamber.
His guards were rushing along the corridor when he returned to the bed and helped Sherindal into one of his linen shirts. She bit her bottom lip against another stab of pain, and laughed in macabre amusement when she spotted the duo who entered the room.
“They look rested enough, my love,” she muttered, eyes chilly and contemptuous.
Rienn glared at her, then turned an even fiercer visage to the men who should have prevented the assault on his private rooms.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Guest Blogger: JOEL M. ANDRE
I'd like to welcome an exciting new guest to my Fantasy Pages this week, author Joel M. Andre. The book looks wonderful, and I'm sure you're going to love this amazing author....Horror is so romantic. There is passion intertwined in the story line, and sensuality abounds. You probably are either thinking, freak, or dude has finally lost it. But maybe, you are that one person who is thinking, let’s see where this goes. Well, come hold my hand as I walk you through, the romantic realm of Horror.
I’m going to get rid of vampire’s right off the bat. Mostly, because I think they have become so cliché and have become mainstream and much humanized lately. Now vampires fall in love, walk in the light, and laugh at crosses.
Now Dracula wouldn’t have put up with any of that stuff in his day. He was dark and seductive, and although evil. You could sense the passion as he bit into Lucy Westenra, which opened her soul to her very own passionate emotions. The sensuality of the biting of the next, and in a sense transferring her soul to his, is a very romantic idea. He in turn brings her eternal life.
Next, we can take a quick look at Frankenstein. A tale often thought to be more along the lines of Childhood Innocence. When actually it is a tale of the passion to be loved and accepted. Through the book, the monster of Frankenstein is looking towards the purest form of love and acceptance from someone.
Another classic creature is The Mummy. After centuries of being dead and buried, he returns to a modern time, and falls smitten with the woman he believes was his queen. Through death and the after life, nothing made him forgets his beloved queen who he wants to reconnect with, and love again so desperately.
Then there is the ultimate tale of love, Beauty & the Beast. No, not the Disney tale, the original tale is one of corruption, and with a sadder and deeper ending. But the main theme remains true, a vile beast, and the most beautiful woman in the world butt heads, she finds him insincere and dark and sinister, until he releases her to her dying father for one week. She then is subject to the trickery of her sisters, resulting in the ultimate sacrifice, and finds she in turn loves a monster.
Horror remains to this day a very romantic and passionate genre. I urge you one of these days, and pull a classic off the shelf, and read it with an open mind. It will likely inspire you, and may even fall in love.
I’m going to get rid of vampire’s right off the bat. Mostly, because I think they have become so cliché and have become mainstream and much humanized lately. Now vampires fall in love, walk in the light, and laugh at crosses.
Now Dracula wouldn’t have put up with any of that stuff in his day. He was dark and seductive, and although evil. You could sense the passion as he bit into Lucy Westenra, which opened her soul to her very own passionate emotions. The sensuality of the biting of the next, and in a sense transferring her soul to his, is a very romantic idea. He in turn brings her eternal life.
Next, we can take a quick look at Frankenstein. A tale often thought to be more along the lines of Childhood Innocence. When actually it is a tale of the passion to be loved and accepted. Through the book, the monster of Frankenstein is looking towards the purest form of love and acceptance from someone.
Another classic creature is The Mummy. After centuries of being dead and buried, he returns to a modern time, and falls smitten with the woman he believes was his queen. Through death and the after life, nothing made him forgets his beloved queen who he wants to reconnect with, and love again so desperately.
Then there is the ultimate tale of love, Beauty & the Beast. No, not the Disney tale, the original tale is one of corruption, and with a sadder and deeper ending. But the main theme remains true, a vile beast, and the most beautiful woman in the world butt heads, she finds him insincere and dark and sinister, until he releases her to her dying father for one week. She then is subject to the trickery of her sisters, resulting in the ultimate sacrifice, and finds she in turn loves a monster.
Horror remains to this day a very romantic and passionate genre. I urge you one of these days, and pull a classic off the shelf, and read it with an open mind. It will likely inspire you, and may even fall in love.
Visit Joel's website here: http://www.joelmandre.com/
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