Busy Times Ahead!

So Christmas is over for another year, and my mind has come home from the holidays that it went on, leaving me behind. As such, I have been able to get back in to writing Once Bitten Twice Shy, Book Two of my paranormal erotic novella trilogy, Wolf Smitten. I'm sitting at almost a third of the way through, and will be aiming to finish this and getting to edits by mid January. Once that is done, I shall be moving on to the third book, The Leader of The Pack. Since I shall be taking a few months off from reviews, I hope to have both of them finished and ready to submit by the time the final draft of The Wolf In The Neighborhood is due. That's right, I am thrilled to announce that the first in the trilogy was accepted by Naughty Nights Press! I was so excited to get the acceptance email.

On to other work, though. In 2012 I also am going to continue writing Acapello's Lady, which will be submitted to Secret Cravings Publishing. I am so excited to see where this one leads.
A new story has also presented itself; The Crypt. It first presented itself as a short entry for a competition on The Crypt, a wonderful blog by Julez Morbius. Entries had to be a maximum of 500 words and be about the picture of the crypt. Although the entry didn't win me a copy of his debut novel, Star Search , but it did beg me to continue it's sordid tale. And so I shall be starting on it once Wolf Smitten is done, and I have my mind a bit more freed.
I also plan on writing a number of short stories for different anthologies, but I'll have a think about them more before I say too much.

So stick around. The Phoenix has much more planned, and is set to soar in the writing world!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!

Rhonda Wingo

I have to admit up front that this quest had me quite upset. I had promised several really close friends some of these cookies for Christmas. But upon trying to hunt up the recipes I found that like many things in my home, they had found there way into a black hole. But I tore into every nook and cranny that I knew, and still no luck. The longer I searched the more upset I got. After all these recipes were family recipes that had been in the family for years. They had sweet memories attached to them and even had some recipes of things that I made, that were unique to me only. Something I had planned to share with my children and grandchildren. Also, I had once thought of writing a cookbook with family memories and some of my writings as well. What better way to share family memories, than through food and pictures?

Being that I come from a family of the Deep South, and there is a lot of history in them, I thought I might touch upon some of the history of the family as well; what little I knew, and from documents that I still have and also plan to pass on. We no longer have a connection other than through memories having been forced to sell my Grandma's home several years ago. So now I am about to embark on even more new traditions and even a new place to call home. But that is another part of the story, which will, I am sure continue in another chapter.

Well I got myself so worked up over this I decided the only way to solve the cookie recipe situation is to just sit down, shut up and take a nap. No sense wasting any more time being upset and pulling my hair out. So that is what I did, and like many things when you go to sleep with something on your mind....well, needless to say I dreamt of the cookie recipe and I could almost see it written on the paper in my mind. Some of the ingredients came to me in the amount I needed them, unfortunately in the wrong order. But then in my dream state it told me to look on my computer, that even if all the recipes weren’t there surely that one would be. So several hours later I woke up to find that I had a potential solution to the Cookies Quest. So I shook the cobwebs out of my head and much, calmer I searched (with the search option) for my cookie recipe. Low and behold I found a treasure.

Not only did I find my recipe I also found 20 pages of a cookbook I had started writing. As I read down the pages, at the end of a lot of the family recipes was a remembrance of something special that happened in my life. It was like some little moment in time frozen and on the screen in front of me. What amazed me even more was the introduction I wrote and each little thing was written with such care and love. It brought me to tears as I read it, and I wondered how I could have ever stopped writing this. I am not saying that it was that well written or that I am bragging in any way, because I have never seen myself as a writer, even though I sometimes have managed to touch others with my words. It still doesn't make me a writer, but here on the pages was a bit of magic that I really need to get back to.

So the Quest for the Christmas Cookies Recipe may have opened another door, a place for me to share. At least a 5-generation collection of a family, to be passed along through more generations and maybe even to other people as well. I don't know what will come out of this moment but some how I feel another door opened up to me. Maybe this is a start of something new through looking back over time. But I can feel the pictures of each of the items that will be described, and pictures of the past that will come out of the woodwork, and connections becoming stronger. What better time of year to look back but still look forward to the future and all the magic that it holds. What better time of year to embrace the good things you had in life, even with the sad, and to go forth in life knowing yourself a bit more.

So from EVERYONE who participated in the giveaways in one way or another, HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS, A HAPPY NEW YEAR AND BE SAFE!!

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas my True Love Gave to me...

Michael Charton

 For this Christmas tale,  we must go back to Labor Day, 2011, Brooklyn, New York.  A new all women's steel band The Twelve Diamond Drummers began marching up the wide expanse of Brooklyn's Eastern Parkway.
      Eastern Parkway was jammed on this beautiful, sunny, dry, cloudless, Labor Day. 
      Warm weather was standard typical for the Twelve Diamond Drummers, but not dry weather as they're from the tropical island of Trinidad.
      On top of their float, the twelve ladies were heavily made up and had sparkles on their faces, that highlighted skin tones ranging from coffee to almost black.  Their bright sexy smiles caught many a make and sometimes female eye as they started the parade from the arch of Grand Army Plaza and the dignified building of the headquarters of the Brooklyn Public Library and the Brooklyn Museum.
      Police had to prevent smitten admirers from trying to join them in the parade and march down the street with them.
      Farther down Eastern Parkway, the Twelve Diamond Drummers performed the act that got their pictures on the news and viral videos worldwide.
      The corner of Eastern Parkway and Kingston Avenue is the headquarters of the largest Hasidic Jewish community in the world, the Lubuvitch.  Their young men, dressed in 18^th Century style black hats and coats stood on the steps with arms sternly crossed, and mumbling about the schwartzes (blacks) grimly.
      They're normally ignored by the million plus paraders, but not the Twelve Diamond Drummers drumming.  They broke ranks, jumped off their truck and tried to pull the young men off the steps and dirty dance with them.    
      Flash bulbs caught the Hasidic Look of Horror, the phrase the New York Post used on Page Six the next day.  Strange women  touching them?  They would now have to march off to the Mikvah, the ritual bath to be cleansed.
    The members of New York's Finest, The New York Police Department just laughed with the surrounding crowd as the Police started dirty dancing with them.  Those pictures also went viral, with one cop saying later, “It was good community relations, we didn't wanna offend anyone.”
      Police Commissioner Kelly was seen playing bongos on another float, so the official response was “Enjoy the Party.”

      The Drummers caught up with their truck and continued making news.  A punk who tried to steal a lady's purse wound up with a steel drum over his head and that was photographed.
      Now ladies and gentlemen, you have the background of the Twelve Diamond Drummers..  The New York Post had stories between the front page and the gossipy Page Six.  Even the staid New York Times had the headline, “A Band Grows in Brooklyn.” 
                  Christmas is Coming:
      The headlines, YouTube and going viral made the reputation for the Twelve Diamond Drummers. 
      The Today Show was going to have their morning concerts counting down the Twelve Days  Christmas, starting with the Twelve Diamond Drummers on Tuesday December 13^th, 2011. 
      Two months of concerts, buildup, appearances on other shows, magazine articles and even tourist websites wre telling people about the upcoming event.  When any of the twelve drummers were asked about the upcoming concert, all they said was, “We gonna rock the Plaza, and your clothes off, man.”
      December 13^th came, a cloudy, blustery New York morning, with a hint of snow in the air.  Ladies, you're not in Trinidad any more.
      On Labor Day, the Twelve Diamond Drummers were dressed leaving little to the imagination.  Not this morning.  They had sweaters and fur coats to match their newfound success. 
      Before, they would've taken the subway from Brooklyn to Times Square.  Those days were a memory.  Trucks with roadies would bring their equipment to the Plaza, the ladies would ride in a stretch limousine.
      When twelve lovely ladies have a stretch limo, they want more than a ride, they want a tour.

         The limo went all the way down Eastern Parkway from Buffalo Avenue to Grand Army Plaza.  They rode up Flatbush Avenue to the Manhattan Bridge blowing kisses to crowds on sidewalks and people in surrounding cars and buses. 
         When they arrived at Rockefeller Plaza, the police had to help them out of the limo between waiting crowds and in front of the usual honking horns.  The Drummers response was to blow kisses to frustrated deliverymen and cabbies.  That the cops were helping the ladies made the other drivers seethe even more.
         One of the cabbies cried out in a singsong Indian accent, “Mr. Policeman sir, I'm not being rude sir, but I must go to the bathroom.”
         The cop looked at him as though he were a slow second grader.  “You can go to the bathroom in 30 Rock, but hurry up!”
         The cabbie was incredulous and disbelieving.  “You won't write me a ticket?”
         “Not if you're back in five minutes, now get going!”
         The cabbie flew out of the taxi as though on fire, leaving a stunned, well dressed middle aged couple in the taxi.  The ladies wasted no time in flirting with the husband, much to his wife's annoyance.  The cabbie was back in four minutes shaking his head crying, “This is very very bad!”
         All the well-dressed woman in the cab wanted to know was “Did you wash your hands?”  and “I shall increase your tip if you get us away from this mob scene,” she said alternating dagger like glances between the Drummers and her husband.
         “What?” her husband cried.  They were nice, I smiled.
         “Not the correct answer,” she snapped.
         For the two men in the taxi several blocks could end up being an eternity, especially in Midtown Manhattan. 
         The Drummers put on their Santa hats as they police escorpted them to their stage which was set up with their drums and speakers. 
         The crowds were the largest the Plaza had ever seen.  The ladies were interviewed by Al Roker, who eventually got grief from the crowd screaming, “Let them play!”
         They got up on the stage and the moment they began playing, the crowd rocked and swayed the music making them move and warming frozen bones and spirits.
         A scattered few didn't approve.  One Hasidic man from the 47^th Street Diamond District was walking by, heard the drums saw who is was and cried out, “Those are the whores from Eastern Parkway who touched my son and made him go to the Mikvah for a ritual bath!”
         A young woman saw the fur coats and cried out, “Fur is murder!”

         Occupy Wall Street protestors tried to break through, but the crowd shoved them into the waiting arms of New York's Finest. 
         A young man with a thick New York accent saw all this and shook his head.  “All life's a stage and there are always a few killjoys and Scrooges in every group.  This is also New York, and everyone's a critic here.”
         Regardless of all, the Twelve Diamond Drummers flirted with all, rocked the Plaza and the band played on.


Michael's giveaway is a copy of his paperback novel, Moriarty The Life and Times of a Criminal Genius.


Blurb

Moriarty, The Life and Times of a Criminal Genius.
You know Sherlock Holmes, the Worlds Greatest Consulting Detective...
You know Dr. Watson, his friend, confidant, chronicler of his exploits...
You think you know Professor James Moriarty the man Holmes called a criminal genius...
Do you really?
Read the story of the boy formed by the horrors of the Irish Famine who grew up to be the man known as a criminal genius

For a chance to win a copy of Moriarty The Life and Times of a Criminal Genius, leave your email address and your answer to the following question:
     What is the best way to get on to Santa's Naughty List?
The winner will be contacted either by myself or by Michael, at which point you will be required to reply with your postal address. DO NOT supply it to anyone claiming to be acting on our behalf and DO NOT supply anything other than your postal address.


*All images are borrowed from Michael's blog, I am an Author, I Must Auth

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas my True Love Gave to me...

Pablo Michaels 

Eleven Greek Pipers Piping
(contains menage and m/m)
Mighty Zeus, the bearded father of all gods and mortals, shook in his shield, the aegis, with his pectoral and bicep muscles, bulging beneath, holding his scepter. He cast down a thunderbolt from lofty Mount Olympus, summoning eleven Greek gods and heroes. As Apollo, Hermes, Pan, Dionysus, Adonis, Zephyrus, Hyacinthus, Patrocius, Achilles, Eros and Gandemede assembled, he spoke his thunderous voice. “You are gathered here to assist in the Christian celebration of the Twelve Days of Christmas. I have consulted with Hera. She agrees that your seduction of mortals will be led by unfortunate Pan to play the syrinx in this quest to seduce young men and nymphs, to bring them joy in these festivities on the eleventh day. With your god-like bodies you will play the flutes in harmony. As son of Hermes and Aphrodite, you will help Pan finally lure the nymph, Syrinx, into his arms. We all know his woes when he tried to seduce her and sent her screaming in flight because of his frightening looks.”

Hermes requested to speak. “Great god of all us, I want to lead the songs, since I am his father and invented these magic reeds that play soothing music.”

Apollo interrupted, “But it should be me, as I coveted more lovers, playing and bringing this instrument popularity with mortals.” 

“Enough,” Zeus bellowed. “You both settled this dispute of who invented the syrnix long ago. Apollo, you are the protector of young men, so obey as I say. Pan will lead you both by his side. Pan scares away young nymphs and men, when they see his appearance. You and Hermes attract mortals with your manly physiques and charm. Dionysus will be right beside you with his beauty and spirit as Bacchus in the celebration of wine and orgies. I expect you to synchronize with the others I’ve chosen for these Christmas festivities.”

Adonis asked, “How can I assist?”

“You are loved by Aphrodite. She will extend her powers to entice young men and muses to your pretty, youthful body.”

“As I am the son of Aphrodite, Hermes and you, I will create the music with harmony and creativity,” Eros suggested. “I will shoot love potion with my darts into anyone who comes to the den.”

“What is our part, Patrocius and me?” Achilles asked. “I was loyal to my partner.”

“You can instill affection and loyalty of love to those men in trouble, by setting the example, as you did with your dedication as partners. Gandemede, I have not forgotten you with those pectoral muscles and big thighs. The other gods brought you to me as the most beautiful man in all the land as a gift. Although I did you wrong; I granted you immortality to pour my wine. I want to extend your homoerotic love to young lads. And Zephyrus, god of the West Wind, what can I say about you? You held and cuddled the youth, Hyakinthos, holding a lyre, because you desired his beauty and his music. I hope you will assist Gandemede to express your love as you pipe.”

“What about me?” Hyacinthus inquired.

“You will play the sweetest music of all, led by those who loved and wept for you, Apollo and Zephyrus. Their jealousy will not harm you or anyone.”

“Now off with you. Prepare your song for the Eleventh Day.”

The eleven chosen made the preparations to entice muses and men, through piping in Pan’s lair in the woods below Mount Olympus for the Eleventh Day. Eros observed the forest. The sycamore and oak trees without leaves did not seclude the den enough to invite the potential guests. With his creative mind he decorated a large Mediterranean Cypress tree with olive garlands with their purple fruit. He placed arrows, anointed with olive oil to light the lair like torches, when the night began. Apollo built a fire pit for the eleven to welcome the throng of guests, as they stood almost naked and played their music.

When the day arrived, the forest, dim, cold and shrouded with a hazy mist, did not appear to be inviting especially with winter’s chill in the air. They all tuned their flutes made of unequal, length reeds to play like a symphony. Dressed in scant clothing to attract the nymphs and young warriors to their music, their music soothed the entire land, building heat and warmth from the bleak, cold day. Apollo, barely clothed, lit the fire within the den and on the Christmas tree.

Soon the young nymph, Syrinx, came running for shelter in the lair, with the nearly naked men surrounding Pan. She wept at the song they played and ran her hands without fear over their masculine bodies and huge appendages, warming her desires. She brushed her hand over Adonis’s beautiful face, then grabbed Hermes manly beard with a tug. The rest teased her, as she ran her hands over Apollo’s perfect body and kissed Hyacinthus’ innocent lips. Zephyrus blew a rush of warm West Wind on her breasts in between his lips breathing through the syrinx. Dionysus transformed himself into Bacchus and poured sweet, red wine through her waiting mouth. Then Eros shot a golden arrow into her heart, making her blind for an attentive lover. Gandemede, as the most beautiful mortal, rubbed his erect dick against her moist, vaginal lips. The eleven wreathed their sexually enticing bodies around her and Pan, with Achilles and Patrocius wedged by her sides, setting her beside Pan, as she closed her eyes.

Pan, surprised that she did not scream and run, set his body down on her, after lifting her dress above her head. The music and passion grew as Pan delivered his beastly, loving cock into her virgin clitoris. When he ejaculated, his breath caused the sound on the reeds to become more melodic, sending her into orgasm.

Her wails combined with the eleven pipers piping attracted three men, Periandro, he who worries about men, Menandro, he who remains a man, and Alcandor, he who is manly and strong. The young men pursued each other as a triad of crossed lovers and hoping to dissolve their conflict. Bacchus poured them wine from his flask, tantalizing them with his muscular body, half man and half goat. Each man stroked his hairy chest, until grasping his erect cock. Then, they groped Achilles and Patrocius, feeling more resolution to heal their desires. Eros, blindly, shot arrows into the three. Soon they were sprawled beneath the eleven in a ménage, creating more heat.

Anteros, a man like a god of mutual love, and Calimero, beautiful body, seduced by the song, wandered into the den, forgetting their woes of hardship, were welcomed by Gandemede and Zephyrus. Their troubles became meager under the sweet sounds of the two Greek warriors. The two men grabbed the asses and fondled the prominent dicks of the two gods. Wrapped around each other Calimero inserted his cock into Anteros’ ass. Their movements in sexual intercourse resounded with the warmth of the gods and heroes surrounding them musically and physically. The roar of their orgasms echoed far away, with the eleven pipers piping the joy of Christmas.

Adara, the beauty, and Amara, eternally beautiful, entered the wooded grotto, captivated by the music from the reeds. They heard Syrinx’s pleasure and had to investigate her plea for more intoxicating love. They witnessed her at the Pan’s feet begging for more. Although they were enthralled by the male Greek beauties of men, they desired more from each other as women. The music brought them closer to realize their lust. Disrobing beneath the eleven Greek men, they scoured each other’s bodies with kisses and caresses. Their mouths kissed the moist lips of their pussies. Each thrust of their tongues delved deeper, bringing them the pleasure of mutual orgasms.

Sybil, the woman of prophecy, and Abauro, the tint of sunrise, arrived and were struck by arrows from Eros and drank the wine from Bacchus. 

Strom, the man of the mattress, Calistenes, the beautiful and strong, Odell, of song, Damon, the constant and loyal, and Kyros, the master, all arrived. They were greeted initially by Dionysus with his beautiful body, who rapidly transformed into Bacchus, the pourer of wine and initiator of orgies. As they drank the sweet nectar, Eros sent his blind love of quivers into all, as they continued in the festivities.

Surrounded by naked Greek gods and heroes, the practice of making love continued as the music drew more listeners. The pipers remained piping on their flutes of reeds and indulging gropes on their guests. The heat of the lair grew more intense each moment, as each person disrobed and formed a circle around Pan and Syrinx, performing sex acts of love with the eleven Greek gods, heroes and themselves in a ritual of orgiastic love and peace.

High above on Mount Olympus, Zeus the father of all watched in vicarious pleasure. Overwhelmed with his desires, he thrust a bolt of lightning down to the lair. “Listen,” he commanded. “This day and night has brought much needed relief and joy. The eleven pipers piping will continue to charm and attract the people of the countryside on the Twelfth Day of Christmas, when you are summoned to play your part. I refrained from joining you. I know my presence would overwhelm what you have started. Pipe on, make love and be with the one you desire, for these are the days to celebrate your existence and find peace with the music that moves your souls.”

Through the Eleventh and Twelfth Days of Christmas eleven Greek pipers piped at the beckoned call. Pan’s lair thrived with couple, ménages and groups. Young men thrust their cocks into thirsty mouths, constricted anal cavities, and warm vagina lips. A bright light illuminated the heavens from above on Mount Olympus.

Pablo Michaels, 2011

Pablo is giving away two, that's right TWO copies of his paperback novel Catnip, Rosemary, Rage and Time, available now at Amazon.com, Xlibris.com and other good online stores. Postage is worldwide.

Blurb

“Catnip, Rosemary, Rage and Time” summarizes Billie Blake and Glenn Talbot’s celebration of their tenth anniversary on a cruise to Alaska. With most of the passengers older than them they soon discover their friendly cabin steward, a hunky waiter, and an appealing bartender. Paul and Linda Anderson play a cat and mouse game with Billie to help them become their fall guy for an irregular diamond operation. The action begins with a Friends of Dorothy Party in the Greek Lounge at midnight the first day of the cruise. Romance, mystery, comedy, and erotica occur from port to port in Victoria to the Yukon and back to San Francisco.

For a chance to win a copy of Catnip, Rosemay, Sage and Time, leave your email address and your answer to the following question:

    What is the best way to get on to Santa's Naughty List?

Either Pablo or myself will contact the winners, at which point you will be asked, by us only, for your postal address. DO NOT supply your address to anyone else claiming to be acting on our behalf, and DO NOT supply any other information. We will not ask for it, anyone who does ask for it on our behalf IS NOT US. 

On the Tenth Day of Christmas my True Love gave to me...

Kiki Howell, her blog, her Facebook and her Twitter

Faint sounds of caroling grated on his last nerve as he paced back and forth
beside her bed. Silent night his ass. The bloodlust raging through him was unbearably strong. His stomach rolled as he swallowed hard, his mouth watering to bite her, hisbody desperate to make love to her. Fear, a horrid waste of an emotion, and one usually unfamiliar to a vampire, seized him, held his muscles tight, bound him within his own desires.
It was a natural occurrence this night, Christmas Eve, for a peace to fall over
the human run earth. As a vampire in love, one facing his humanity in a big way, peace couldn’t touch him.
The spill of Shianna’s chestnut colored curls picked up the golden hue of the
light from the fire. She made a move like she was shivering, tossing and turning in her sleep until she was facing him. Pulling the covers tighter around her, Daniel wanted to cuddle her body into his. The even pace of her shallow breathing was like a heartbeat, reminding him of what he’d taken from her. She’d been sleeping in a lot lately, hours into the evening, but that wasn’t unheard of for a new vamp as they adjusted to their new body, their new diet, their new life.
It’d been over a month since that fateful night he’d been forced to do the
unthinkable, turn her into a vampire to save her life. Approaching midnight this
Christmas Eve, he felt like a wretched villain. Somewhere out there people were missing her as the holiday approached. As far as her human family knew, she’d disappeared during a violent crime at the ski lodge she’d been vacationing at. She was trapped now in his life, in a cabin high in the mountains right above that lodge.
Christmas approached as fast as the snow falling hard outside. What present did he have to give her but meaningless novelties: clothes, a book, a CD, and other luxury items that he was sure she would like. None of those items though would give her back what he’d taken from her. Well, he wasn’t the one who injured her beyond the point she could be saved, but he was the one who’d sucked her gingerbread, sweet and spicy, blood from her body and had replaced it with his own. He’d had no choice to save her, but who knew if she’d wanted to be saved into this life. Of course she’d tried to make him feel better about it a dozen or so times, but his guilty dead heart just wasn’t up for believing it yet.
His hand hovered over her head, gripped into a fist and then pulled back to his lap to keep from waking her. Memories attacked him now. Several weeks ago, Black Friday to be exact, a council of Vampire Lords had been meeting nearby when the call came in about rogues in his district. He was lord over the northeastern region of his state, over more land than most given regions were divided up by density of vampires per humans. Here in the mountains, people per square feet was a lower number than the number of lords needed in the denser populated cities.
Sitting in the meetings discussing rearranging the amount of vampire warriors
in certain areas due to a new growth of land developments, a text had come with an alert. Those who chose to offer their help raced to his locale, followed him as he easily navigated the land he was native to, had resided over for some two hundred years. Running back, the many houses already decorated with brightly colored bulbs of various colors, at the speed he traveled, made the scenery around him look like what he imagined a bad acid trip would. But then getting home, looking down on part of his turf, it’d looked more like the massacre before Christmas. Fresh spilled blood had been melting the snow, rogue vampires had been lunching on tourists, the screams had been
real, bone chilling, beyond anything he’d ever heard as they’d echoed off the mountains.
The group of vampire lords had paused at the peaks of the slopes, circling
the valley where the ski lodge sat. The scene, Christmas trees having just gone up that weekend, the brightly colored lights turning the blanket of fresh fallen snow into something more like a marquee, had been beautiful when he’d left a few hours before. No longer was that the case, except her was blown away by the support he had here with him.
As he’d nodded, and the vampire lords leapt from their peaks into the valley for a surprise attack on the rogues, he’d counted ten of them including himself. The moment had been his miracle for the season. The six rogues had been quickly taken under control, but still the shrieking and the police sirens had continued. A man in a Santa hat had laid dead at his feet. They had later called it an animal attack, of course. The humans, so predictable in their fearful and therefore false explanations, always did. The dead rogue vamps, their dust had been quickly buried under the snow. In the chaos which had
ensued, the blood on the snow glistening with the police spotlights like misshapen but shiny, red-icy, Christmas decorations had enthralled him as much as it sickened him. This was all before he’d heard a whimper, a strangled sound of someone who had blood filling their lungs. Last gurgled breaths called to him like a siren’s song. No Twelve Days of Christmas, no Silent Night, just the off beat of a desperate struggle for air.
Following the noise, he’d found her behind a line of snowmobiles, a beautiful
young woman, say mid-twenties, her neck savagely ripped apart, blood matting the long chestnut curls of her hair. Blood had been all over her actually. Her clothes were soaked, the snow around her saturated. It’d made him sick, literally his stomach had clenched then rolled. Seeing how one of his kind had played with their food, bitten her in many places, ripping off chunks of skin like an animal would, had really been too much even for him at that moment.
There had been a second when this dying person had rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes. Just some sort of instinct of the body, not really seeing him, but her green and gold eyes had sparkled, fresh tears glistening in the Christmas lights.
Something in him had broken.
Without another thought he’d forced his own blood down her throat, taken what she had left of hers for himself. The process started, he’d picked her up and raced back to his own cabin, his new and lovely vampire in his arms.
This last month he’d trained her, to feed, to control her blood lust, about day
sleep, about everything he could think of that she would need to know to become a worthwhile vampire, one who could give back to the community she lived in rather than take from it.
What she’d taught him though was so much more. She’d shown him that he could be worthy of love again, the way she doted on him, took care of him, the monster who had transformed her life without asking if she wanted it. Of course, there hadn’t been that opportunity, but again, he’d just turned her. And. Miracle of all holiday miracles, she’d been grateful rather than resistant, never complaining of the life she would miss as a human.
He wondered though if her sweet nature was making her lie to him. If on
Christmas Eve of all nights, she would wake soon, and miss whatever family occasion she would’ve usually been apart of. Like she’d heard him, she opened her eyes.
“You’re too hard on yourself, Daniel. I’ve been telling the truth. I was a misfit,
misunderstood, by family and my few friends really. I won’t miss the crazy and tense Christmases with my human family. I have you. And, although I know I need to move on soon, find a place of my own, I look forward to spending this Christmas with my maker.”
“Reading minds? An invasion of privacy. I thought I taught you better,” Daniel
teased, a front as he stiffened wondering what else she’d heard him think.
“I know. But, when I started to open my eyes, seeing the look in yours, that pouty, far off look like you were contemplating the weight of the world, I figured one listen couldn’t hurt. Forgive me. I just…I just wanted to know if you were thinking of me.”
“Of course I was. You want to spend this day with me? I know I am the only
vampire you know right now. But, soon you will meet more. I will introduce you. And, you will want to move out on your own, with the new or the young vamps, not with an old man like me, turned in my early forties a few hundred years ago,” Daniel interjected.
“Maybe I do want to stay with you. Maybe I do want more. You do. Okay.
Confession. I’ve read your mind a few times these past few days. Chalk it up to new vampire indiscretions if you must. But I know that you want me, though you have this silly guilt hanging over you for turning me. Honestly, I don’t feel a monster. I feel strong. I feel better, like the weight of my old world has been lifted from my shoulders. And, I want to celebrate this Christmas with you, and I mean really with you. I want to ring in the new year kissing you.”
She sat up then, her eyes locked with his, searching, questioning, as she touched his chest. Her cold hand had burned him, made him think he had a beating heart again. Something pulsed within him anyway. Her words rang through his ears like the bells of Christmas. Really with you… Could it mean?
She moved in closer. Slowly, her lips inches toward his as if she was waiting to
see if he would push her away. He didn’t but there were matters to be addressed.
“You’ve never been with a man like me,” Daniel hissed out.
“Not a vampire. No. But I have been with a man. How different can it be?”
“It’s rough. Intense. Your new strength, the bloodlust, all things to content with as your body rages out of control.” 
“Yeah. It’s like being a virgin all over again. I kind of like the idea of my first
time being on Christmas Eve. Take me before the clock strikes midnight. I’m ready.”
He growled, low in his chest, his unused lungs rumbling with his need, his desire for her. It’d been consuming him, the wanting, the holding back. Now, to be able to take her, to make her his own, well it seemed too good to be true.
Her lips touched his gently at first. He knew she was still questioning how he
would react. On the other hand, she knew, the wretched little minx having listened to his thoughts, how much he wanted her.
He gave her an answer by grabbing her hair in his fist, crushing his lips down on hers. Her body he shortly had pinned under his. I don’t have it in me any longer to hold back, nor do I have it in me to go slow. Not this time. Forgive me,” he sighed in her ear, the sound of his deep voice rough, breathy.


“Again, no need to ask for forgiveness. I have to have you. Take me, and take me fast.”


Seconds later she cried out as he shredded their clothes from their bodies. She
lay there gloriously naked underneath him. His body pressed hard against hers, his hips between her thighs, his erection already poised at her opening. Daniel moved just a little, a test to see if she was wet enough for his bodies invasion.
She was. He pushed in, her inner walls gripping at him, encouragement his cock didn’t need but welcomed.
“I’m going to bite you, take you over the edge. Hold on babe,” he warned.
Feeling her fingers dig into his back, he leaned down and bit her in the fleshy area just above her breasts. She arched her back as his fangs pierced her skin, pushing her hard nipple against him. A long draw of blood made him light-headed, made his dick pulse inside her as he thrust it in and out of her body, hard, relentless in his need for her.
She screamed as she came, her body milking him, a tight warm glove drawing
out every ounce of pleasure within him. Another draw of blood, another thrust, she came again, trembled around him.
Lifting his head from her breast, he forced his neck to her mouth.
“Bite me, babe.”
Shianna hesitated a second, but he pushed into her again. As he watched her, their faces so close together, the next thrust of his cock inside her made her gasp. Then her fangs pierced his skin, right on his shoulder. He felt her suck the blood from his body as she’d done so greedily, yet so unknowing the night he’d turned her. How since that night had he dreamed of having her feed from him again, but intentionally, intimately like now.
Her body quaked underneath his, and he hardened again. Retracting her fangs after just a few sips, the glazed over look of ecstasy on her face made him let go completely, spill his undead seed into her. Orgasms took them both, each look in each other’s eyes sending them spiraling higher.
The carolers got closer. While still far off, they were houses closer, louder in
his ear. The song, Silent Night, the one they’d been singing over and over again as they moved from house to house, got to him. This time though, in her arms, in her body, spent and still quaking from the shared experience, the words started to warm him, make sense.
Whether there was a god out there for the likes of them, he would never know. But, it did seem a holy night, one he would revere the rest of his life, the one where he chose a true mate which he knew her in his heart to be now.
Calm, bright, tender, mild, the words all had such renewed meaning. He saw
love’s pure light in her face, and knew it was his redeeming grace.

Kiki Howell's giveaway is the winner's choice of one of her many wonderful stories, due to timing issues with her original choice.

Is This Christmasy?

I have a friend who has written an encyclopedia on Christmas TV. We’ve talked several times about why some people watch holiday shows (and I bring this up because I feel it is the same with holiday books). Our conclusion in part is our addiction to being reminded that in this world miracles can happen, love can be true, and all other sorts of sappy ideas the we love. What it boils down to though, we think anyway, is using this time of year, its shows and books and all, to renew our faith in mankind. But, there are also the specials and movies where Christmas is the setting, and that is about as Christmasy as it gets.

The rest of the show doesn’t really lend itself to the holiday so much due to the plot or whatever. For example, in my friend’s encyclopedia and her companion guide ("Tis the Season TV: The Encyclopedia of Christmas-themed Episodes, Specials and Made-for-TV Movies, and "The Christmas TV Companion: A Guide to Cult Classics, Strange Specials and Outrageous Oddities" by Joanna Wilson) she talks about many macabre movies, etc that are set at Christmas time.

Myself, I’m a paranormal author and reader. I like dark otherworldly tales as much as I like all the Christmas ones. So is it possible to mix my favorite genre with my favorite holiday? Can I mesh the dark with happy holiday ending? I think so. I just recently reviewed an anthology for Suspense Magazine which was four vampire Christmas tales ( A Vampire for Christmas (Sweetblood #2.5) by Laurie London, Michele Hauf, Caridad Piñeiro, Alexis Morgan) I really loved the way the authors took the dark and

the bloody and the violent and set it all at Christmas time. Not only were people killed, bloodlust given into, but also there were lights glistening and cookies baked. Most importantly though, in the end, after all the killing and whatnot, there was a Christmas-themed Happy Ever After ending. I am so a happy camper reading such stories.

So when I got my 12 Days of Naughty Giveaways story theme as the 10 Lords A Leaping, my mind went immediately to ten vampire lords, and I wondered if I could pull off the same mix of the bright holiday and the dark lives of vampires. So, here it is, my 10 Lords A Leaping Story for the 12 Days of Naughty Giveaways, One Silent Night. I hope you like it.

As far as the giveaway goes, I have a Christmas free read called, Spirit, Yet To Come, a paranormal erotic romance short inspired by the Dicken’s A Christmas Carol which I will send a PDF of to anyone who comments and leaves and email address in their comment. Find out what happens when the Spirit of Christmases Yet to Come falls in love with his charge… Also, one winner will be chosen who will get their choice of one of my stories in PDF format. All stories are listed at my website at http://www.kikihowell.com/2010/06/stories.html

All you have to do is leave your email address and a comment with your answer to the following question:
     What is the best way to get on to Santa's Naughty List?
All those who leave their email address will receive a copy of Spirit Yet To Come, and the lucky overall winner will be notified either by myself or by Kiki on the 23rd Decemeber.

On the Ninth Day of Christmas my True Love gave to me...

Phoenix Johnson and Naughty Nights Press.

Lord Augustus glanced at himself in the reflection of the door as he rang the bell. Glancing around at the other large townhouses surrounded by the seasonal snow, he was finally beginning to feel at home in the affluent little town. 

He had grown up on a prosperous farm on the outskirts, only son to Lord and Lady Winston. When his parents died in a carriage accident a few years previously, he had inherited the farm and the family servants. Being only fifteen at the time he was grateful for the care that the friendly local banker, Lord Harland, had shown him. It was clear that the young man was not suited for farm ownership and so Lord Harland had advised him to sell up and move in to town.
Nigh on three years had passed, and Lord Augustus still was unsure of his place in society, though thankful for the vast fortune that the sale of his parents’ farm had brought him. Harland had guided him to invest money in several intelligent enterprises and together they had watched the town and their own personal wealth grow. Augustus was now one of the most successful men in town, but he still felt empty.
The message this morning handed to him by his butler came as a surprise. Harland had requested his presence to discuss some new business that had arisen overnight. The message sounded quite urgent so the young lord had dressed rather quickly and, much to the cook’s dismay, skipped breakfast to head straight over to the banker’s home.
Standing now on the snowy front porch of Lord Harland’s enormous townhouse, he wondered what business the older gentleman wished to discuss. Perhaps Harland had some business venture he thought the younger man ought to invest in, or a new trade asset; Augustus sighed at the prospect of such business talk with Christmas so close. What he really wanted was a wife more than a new investment.
He had his fair share of choices when it came to women, being a rich young bachelor, and handsome to boot; but none of the young ladies in town had made him feel a spark of interest. All they were interested in was a life of luxury while they giggled incessantly and batted their eyelashes at him. Such behaviour almost drove him mad.
Shifting his feet, Augustus had lifted his hand to ring the bell again when the door opened to reveal Preston, Lord Harland’s butler, who waved the younger man inside out of the cold. Augustus was grateful to be back in a warm house and was struck by a sudden curiosity; he could hear high-spirited laughter and merry carols playing in the house. Lord Harland was a friendly man indeed but he was hardly known for throwing parties for no reason. A few shrill giggles sent shivers down his spine. Glancing at Preston, he queried, “Is Lord Harland entertaining?”
“Yes Sir,” the butler replied warmly. “His nine young nieces are here from Maryland for the holidays waiting for their parents to arrive. A lovely bunch of ladies, they are.” Augustus raised his eyebrow; such a comment was high praise coming from Preston, a normally stoic, frosty man unless he knew a person well. The young lord’s spark of curiosity was a little brighter, and he was eager to meet the young women.
Preston led Augustus to the drawing room to await Lord Harland. He was thrilled that it was the same room in which the banker’s nieces were dancing. Sitting quietly to one side he watched as the ladies danced in turn, or stood to the side clapping in rhythm. He shyly smiled as they noticed him and began to giggle again. Augustus had to fight the urge to roll his eyebrows. Preston would not call a group of giggling girls lovely.
Before too long they resumed their dancing, and one lady in particular caught his eye. She seemed to be the leading the dancing and had a real spark of intelligence about her. There was nothing forced or fake about her. This was a genuine lady who would bend to no man’s will. He could see a fire of passion behind her eyes, and her beauty brought a stirring in his loins stronger than any he had felt before.
Her sudden presence before him caught him off guard. “Were you never told that staring is rude, my Lord?” she teased.
“I’m sorry, Milady, but the fire in your soul has me rather caught in a spell.” As the lady fought a smile, his stirrings grew stronger. “May I ask your name?”
“Grace Hannah, my Lord.” She stared at him expectantly for a few moments. “Now is the part where you tell me your name.”   
“Augustus. Lord Augustus Winston.” He put his hand out to take hers for a kiss and was shocked when she boldly planted a kiss on his lips, instead. Her lips were softer than he could have imagined, and he yearned to feel her body close to his. Her sigh against his mouth told him that she felt the same. With regret, he pulled back to look at her. “This goes quite against proper behaviour, Miss Grace Hannah. I’m not saying that I’m against it personally, but I wouldn’t want to ruin yours or your Uncle’s reputation.”
“Considering it’s you who we’re really here for, I don’t think it will matter one bit,” the lady replied.
“What do you mean by that?” Augustus demanded, pulling back as Grace Hannah leaned in for another kiss.
“The business Uncle Harland brought you here to discuss. Did he not tell you in the note? You’re here to choose one of us for a bride. My uncle told us that you had spent too many Christmas’s alone and that it was time you had yourself a wife. My cousins, sisters and myself are all of the proper age to be wed and so he asked us all to come a few days early so that we could meet you and you could choose. Knowing you as well as he does, he pulled me aside and asked that I approach you first, as he deemed me to be the best match for you.”
“So you’re just doing as you are told and you don’t mind?” he asked, all excitement drained.
“I shall admit I was reluctant at first. But Uncle Harland told me so much about you that I felt I had to meet you and see for myself. As soon as you walked in that door I felt drawn to you; I knew my uncle had not exaggerated. You are a kind, decent man and I can tell you don’t want a blithering idiot of a woman to call you husband.” He was grateful that she sat back and gave him time to absorb the shock. Harland was a sneaky man when he wanted to be, but it was always in the best interest of everyone involved so he could forgive the man for his deceit. Grace Hannah was his first choice and he was pleased that Harland thought so as well.
A few moments later the lady stood up and grabbed his hand. “Come on, my Lord Augustus. I want to show you something.” She drew him over to a small room off the drawing room and shut the door behind him. Pulling him in close, she embraced him in another kiss, this time stronger and more passionate. As she had her back to the door, he lifted her up and took the few steps to press her against the wood, allowing Grace to wrap her legs around his waist without over balancing them. He broke the kiss to lightly nibble on her slender neck, allowing her to speak.
                                                         
“Let me down, I wanted to show you something else in this room.” Augustus sighed but gave in. This woman made his senses and blood sing. If allowing her this indulgence meant she would be his bride, then he would let her have her way.
Once her feet were on the floor, her knees soon followed, making his heart race. He hungrily watched as she unbuttoned his trousers and lowered them to his knees. Her delicate hands fondled his erect member, and he closed his eyes in bliss. Oh yes, if allowing her this indulgence meant she would be his Christmas bride, he would most assuredly let her have her way…

Phoenix Johnson's post is on behalf of Naughty Nights Press, and their wickedly delightful giveaway is their digital Christmas anthology Doing the Naughty List Twice.

On the Eighth Day of Christmas my True Love gave to me...

Joseph Chastain

Sara waited inside the little room. She had never been so nervous in her life. What if something went wrong? What if she hurt the one she did it to? What if she embarrassed herself?

The old lady opened the door, with the white fluid running all over her face. Sara gasped to see that site. The old lady looked at her with sympathy.

"Don't worry child," The old lady said "It's not as hard as you think."

"But I'm scared I won't do it right, this is my first time" Sara replied.

"All you have to do is squeeze and pull, nothing to it. I have some gloves too, if you want protection."

Sara did not know if she wanted protection or not. What she did know is she had never been so nervous in her life. Her she was, about to do something she'd wanted to do for her entire life. What if it was painful? She thought of all that white fluid and how gross it looked. Would that stuff get on her? She wondered if it was too late to back out.

"By the way," the old lady said "my name is Lydia."

"Sara. I'm so scared."

"Everyone is scared their first time. But it gets easier. It's quite enjoyable to everyone involved. You'll love it, it's my favorite thing in the world."

"Will it hurt?"

"It all depends on the individual one you do it to, my dear"

Sara went into the room as Lydia waited. Lydia wondered if poor Sara was going to be good at it, unlike the other 6 girls that Lydia had brought in. Lydia was tired of doing all the work herself, and the man she worked for had a terrible temper.

After a little while, Sara came bursting out of the room. Lydia looked at her. She too was covered in the white stuff.

"That was amazing!" Sara exclaimed.

"I told you, from the looks of you, you were good at it."

"I never thought it was that exciting, how often do I do this?"

"As often as you like."

"Well I'll be here every day."

"Great. Never thought milking a cow would be exciting, did you?"

Joseph's giveaway is one of his fabulous screen plays,

For a chance to win a copy of Joseph's , leave a comment with your email address and your answer to the following question:

      What is the best way to get on to Santa's Naughty List?

The winner will be notified either by myself or by Joseph on the 21st December.