In the world of Forgive My Fins and Fins Are Forever, Lily Sanderson is a mermaid princess. In the world of fables, she’s just another girl longing for a change….
Once upon a time there was an unhappy mergirl named Cinderlily. She lived in a large house under the sea with her father, her evil stepmother and her two wicked stepsisters. Though she should have had all the joys of her father’s love and wealth, he was often gone for business and her horrible stepmother treated her like a servant.
Every day, from high tide to low, Cinderlily scrubbed their home. She cleaned the sea slug scum off the floors, made her stepmother and stepsisters’ beds, and polished the gems and pearls on their vast wardrobe of ball gowns. At night, she swam up to the tower attic, stared out the tiny window in the roof, and wished for a better life.
One day, a messenger from the palace arrived with an invitation for all the members of the household to attend a royal ball. As Cinderlily listened with eager excitement from the next room, her imagination swam wild with beautiful music, swirling gowns, and hours upon hours of dancing. As soon as the messenger left, Cinderlily’s stepmother made it clear in no uncertain terms that ungrateful girls like her were not included in the invitation. She had far too many chores to do anyway. She would help her stepsisters get ready for the ball and then have their beds waiting for them when they returned.
Cinderlily begrudgingly did as she was told and, after the sea coach left bearing her stepmother and stepsisters to the royal ball, she returned to her attic room to try to imagine how the evening might have been different had her mother lived. As she swam higher and higher she wished harder and harder that she could have attended the ball.
When she got to her room, she spotted a small kelpaper scroll sitting on the middle of her bed. No one else was in the house and she could not imagine how it had gotten there.
As she carefully unrolled the scroll, small sparkles of magic floated up from the page and swirled around her. She started to read the scroll.
“You shall have a ball.”
Cinderlily swirled around to find a grinning, kind-looking merwoman floating just behind her. The merwoman appeared a little disheveled and confused, like she’d gotten lost playing dress up in her mother’s clothes, but looked fairly harmless. She carried a white wand with a star on the end, and from that star flowed glittering sparks like a current of magic.
“Who—“ Cinderlily stammered. “Who are you?”
The merwoman smiled. “Don’t you know?”
Cinderlily shook her head.
“Why, I’m your fairy mermother,” she said. “And I’m here to grant your wish.”
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Tera is offering one winner a pair of her mermaid books, Forgive my Fins and Fins Are Forever! Her publisher is also offering a copy of the latter, for a total of 2 winners =)
On Lily Sanderson’s eighteenth birthday she’ll become just a girl—still a mergirl, true, but signing the renunciation will ink Princess Waterlily of Thalassinia out of existence. That leaves plain old Lily living on land, dating the boy she loves, and trying to master this being-human thing once and for all.
Now that Lily and Quince are together, mer bond or not, she’s almost content to give up her place in the royal succession of Thalassinia. But just when she thinks she has everything figured out, the waves start to get rough. Lily’s father sends a certain whirlpool-stirring cousin to stay with her on land. What did Doe do to get herself exiled from Thalassinia and stuck in terraped form, when everyone knows how much she hates humans? And why why why is she batting her eyelashes at Lily’s former crush, Brody?
The seafoam on the raging surf comes when a merboy from Lily’s past shows up—Tellin asks Lily for something that clouds her view of the horizon. There’s a future with Quince on land, her loyalty to the kingdom in the sea, and Lily tossing on the waves in the middle. Will she find a way to reconcile her love, her duty, and her own dreams.
Tera Lynn Childs is the award-winning author of the mythology-based Oh. My. Gods. and Goddess Boot Camp, the mermaid tales Forgive My Fins and Fins Are Forever (June 28, 2011) and a new trilogy about monster-hunting descendants of Medusa, starting with Sweet Venom (October 4, 2011). She has also epublished two fun chick lit romances, Eye Candy and Straight Stalk. Tera lives nowhere in particular and spends her time writing wherever she can find a comfy chair and a steady stream of caffeinated beverages.
**Today on Dark Faerie Tales, Claudia Gray’s take on Cinderella and you could win a copy of Fateful! **
It’s All About the Big, Bad Wolf.
Hi, everyone! I’m exciting to be participating in the Fantastic Fables event (a very big thanks To Tynga!). When I was asked which fairy tale I wanted to do, well, my immediate response was LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD. I’ve always been a fan of Red’s. I mean, she’s just a girl, heading through the woods, taking along her nice little picnic snack.
How is she supposed to know that a big, bad wolf would stalk her? Poor Red. She had no clue…or did she?
Today, the werewolf hero of my latest release, NEVER CRY WOLF, is going to stand in for the wolf in LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD. Lucas Simone (LA wolf alpha extraordinaire and all-around sexy beast) will give us a new version of the old fairy tale. He’ll play (of course) the wolf. (And in that story, wouldn’t it have been more fun if the “villain” was more of a werewolf than a simple wolf? I think so…) Here’s Lucas Simone’s take on just how the story really should have went down—werewolf style.
***
She tempted me. Don’t let Red tell you any different. No matter what she says, the woman wasn’t innocent. She came into my territory. Wearing her short skirt and that come-and-get-me red hood.
Like it was the first time she’d visited me. Not even close.
She’d even brought my favorite snacks. I could smell them in the basket. I knew what Red wanted, and it wasn’t some little trip to grandma’s house.
So I played her game. Red had always enjoyed a good game of come-and-get-me. I followed her through the woods, and I could hear her laughter. We went deeper, into the darker parts of the forest. I was just about to pounce—when I realized we weren’t alone.
A hunter stalked Red and me. A jerk who thought he’d bag a werewolf’s hide and give the lady a rough time. He had an ax, the better to chop off my head.
I wasn’t in the mood to lose my head. So the hunte became the hunted. I got Red to her grandmother’s house, nice and safe, and then I stalked that hunter until I could smell the scent of his fear in the air. He came at me with the ax, but, no matter what story he tells, the idiot didn’t get me. He plunged that ax deep into a tree. He couldn’t pull the weapon out, so I decided to have some fun and run my claws right down his back. The better to mark the fool who thought he could take me down. I’ve never heard a man scream so loud—or seen a guy run so fast.
I ventured back to grandmother’s house. Grandmother was long gone on vacation. Red was waiting on me.
Why don’t you figure out how the story ended? I promise, Red got a happy ending. So did I.
***
What do you think? Traditional tale? Or a little werewolf spice? Thanks for checking out the twist. Have a great day! NEVER CRY WOLF—Available now from Kensington Brava Be afraid of the big, bad wolf.
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Cynthia would like to offer 3 copies of Never Cry Wolf (or any of Cynthia’s backlist, winner’s choice) and Kensington is also offering a copy of Never Cry Wolf, for a total of 4 winners!
RUNNING WITH A DANGEROUS CROWD
Lucas Simone is not the kind of guy you mess with. He’s big, he’s strong, and his eyes hint at a wilder side most women can’t handle. Of course, that’s because his predatory instincts are no metaphor—he’s a genuine Grade-A top-quality werewolf, tough enough to fight his way to dominance over the scariest pack on the West Coast. There’s only one chink in his armor. Unlike most alpha dogs, Lucas has a reputation for protecting the weak and innocent.
Sarah King is counting on that protective impulse—it’s the only thing standing between her and certain death. There are only two problems: one, she’s not quite as innocent as she’d like Lucas to believe. And two, if he doesn’t stop stoking Sarah’s animal lust, it’s only a matter of time before her own wild side gets unleashed…
Award-winning author Cynthia Eden writes paranormal romances and romantic suspense novels. Her romantic suspense novel, DEADLY FEAR, was recently named as a RITA finalist.
She has always wanted to write (don’t most authors say that?), and particularly enjoys creating stories about monsters–vampires, werewolves, and even the real-life monsters that populate her romantic suspense stories.
Cynthia’s foreign sales for her books include translations to Japan, Germany, Thailand, and Brazil.
(Back in the day…) Cynthia graduated summa cum laude from the University of South Alabama where she studied Sociology (because people interest her) and Communication (because she likes to write about said people). Cynthia has worked as a college admissions counselor, a teacher, and as an editor. But now, Cynthia is thrilled to be spending her days making up stories.
Jess Haines is one of my favorite author, and I always strike the funniest conversations with her on twitter. It was a given she’d have to be part of the event, and her characters made to best out of it LOL
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Hello there! Jess Haines here. I’m the author of the urban fantasy H&W Investigations series (HUNTED BY THE OTHERS, TAKEN BY THE OTHERS, and the recently released DECEIVED BY THE OTHERS). I’d like to take a moment to introduce you to some of the cast—Shiarra Waynest, the lead character, Chaz, her on-and-off werewolf boyfriend, Alec Royce, a vampire Shiarra meets in the course of her adventures, Sara, Shiarra’s business partner, and Arnold, a mage and Sara’s boyfriend. In honor of Tynga’s event, they’re going to discuss fairy tales today. Over to you, Shia! ____________________
Shiarra: Which fairy tale were we supposed to talk about again? Sara: I dunno. Royce: Beauty and the Beast? Everyone Else: No. Chaz: Little Red Riding Hood? Everyone Else: No. Arnold: The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time? Everyone Else: … Arnold: C’mon! Shiarra rescued Royce like Zelda, and… uhh… Royce: Is that a real legend? I’ve never heard of this.
Shiarra: Whatever. I think that one gets a “hell no”. Arnold: Damn it. I brought my ocarina and everything. It’s a certified replica! Royce: I could share a few fairy tales. Shiarra: You? Forget it. They’re probably filled with blood and bitey things. Royce: Not everything has to be about death and blood with me, Ms. Waynest. I’d have thought you’d learned as much by now. Sara: Whatever, I’m with Shia. I don’t want to hear about what kind of stories put the vampire to sleep as a kid. Chaz: You know, I don’t think it actually fits, but I’ve got a great fairy tale! Sara: I’m afraid. Chaz: It’s about the guy who had to choose a bride by how she cuts the cheese.
Everyone Else: *snickersnortsplutter* Royce: You can’t be serious. Sara: Wow, I didn’t think vampires were allowed to laugh at fart jokes. Royce: That one caught me off guard. Chaz: Seriously! It was one of those Grimm fairy tales. Arnold: Hehe. Cut the cheese. Chaz: Dude, do you want to hear the story or not? Shiarra: Not really. Chaz: Aww… Shiarra: Err. Well, I guess it can’t be that bad. Chaz: Awesome! So this shepherd couldn’t choose which of three sisters to marry.
Arnold: Were they hot? Sara: Arnold! Arnold: What? It’s a legitimate question. Chaz: Smokin’. Royce: Why aren’t we talking about a real fairy tale? I can think of a few far more interesting than this. Chaz: Shut up, dead man. Anyway, the dude’s mom tells him to give each of the girls a cheese. One didn’t cut off all the rind, one cut off some of the good cheese, and the third one was super careful when she was cutting off the rind on hers, and so he married that one. Sara: …and then what? Chaz: That’s it. Shiarra: That’s… really dumb. Royce: I concur. Sara: Um. What was the point of telling us that story? Chaz: It was the only one I could remember? I dunno. C’mon, I’ve been wanting to tell that one for years! Royce: I could have regaled you with tales of Heracles and his great feats, stories of titans and forgotten gods, of giants and— Shiarra: Hercules. Royce: Excuse me? Shiarra: It’s Hercules. Not Heracles. Royce: Actually, his original name was Alcides and they’re both a slight bastardization of the original pronun—wait, why are you correcting me? Sara: Haven’t you seen the movie? I like the pegasus. Arnold: The satyr was dope. Danny DeVito was hilarious. Chaz: I liked Hades. He cracked me up. Shiarra: His hair being on fire was a nice touch.
Royce: That movie was about as historically accurate as Xena: Warrior Princess. Shiarra: What? You watched Xena? No way. Royce: This conversation is over. Chaz: Damn. Next time, I’ll think of a better story. Royce: Somehow I doubt that very sincerely.
____________________
Well, that was… uh… enlightening. You can learn more about Shiarra and the rest of her friends in HUNTED BY THE OTHERS. What do you guys think of Chaz’s story? What’s your favorite fairy tale?
Thanks again having me and the gang over, Tynga!
——————
They’re here, and they’re real. . .werewolves, vampires, mages, and other creatures of the night. For New York P.I. Shiarra Waynest, taking care of Others business started out as a way to stay solvent. But now business is getting very, very complicated. . .
Shiarra’s relationship with sexy werewolf Chaz may be somewhat unconventional. Still, after a few bumps, Shia is finally ready to get serious. That means meeting family—or in this case, bringing Chaz’s entire werewolf pack along for a rollicking full-moon weekend in the Catskills.
Soon after they arrive, threatening notes appear, warning Chaz to go home. Then their cabin is ransacked. Shia starts digging to find out whether it’s the work of upstart teenaged werewolves or something more sinister. Yet as rumors about her vampire connections arouse the pack’s hostility, Shia has to contend with other dangers. Not just from an adversary about to make his fatal intentions known, but from a threat that’s even closer than she knows. . .
The author has over 6 years freelance experience in technical writing, editing and screenplays. More recently, this repertoire has expanded to include short stories and a series of urban fantasy novels in progress.
** Today on Dark Faerie Tales read Nancy Holzner take on Cinderella and you could win a copy of Bloodstone**
Personal Demons/Original Sin meets Beauty and the Beast
The countryside near Frannie Cavanaugh’s home had always been mysterious—especially the weathered house on the outskirts of town, where the quiet streets bled into the dark forest beyond. Shrouded in trees and shadows, it was said inside lurked ghosts and ghouls so heinous that just the sight of them would steal one’s sanity. All Frannie’s life, the house had sat abandoned. No one dared approach the home for fear of falling prey to the evil that resided within. Which is why it came as such a shock to Frannie to hear noises from within as she was passing by on her way home from school one day. She grew more alarmed when she realized the noise was a soft moan, as if someone was injured. She only hesitated a second before slipping through the front gate. She skirted the house, listening. The moans stopped, but as she approached an open window in the rear of the house, the next thing she heard made her freeze. A voice hissed indiscernible words.
Frannie ran without looking back. But that evening she couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d heard. Was someone in the house, hurt?
At school the next day, Frannie told her friends what she’d heard. But when they suggested breaking in and checking it out, she became frightened for them. “No,” she’d said, “I’m sure I was imagining it.” But despite her inner promise to avoid the house, she found herself walking by again that afternoon. As she passed slowly by, listening intently for the moans of the day before, she thought she saw something move in the shadows on the front porch—a darker outline in the darkness. She stopped walking and pushed up against the high iron fence, straining to see what it was.
She’d expected a cat, or maybe a raccoon. What she saw was a boy just her age. She could make out the pale face in the dimness. But when he saw her looking, he stepped deeper into the shadows.
“Wait!” she called. “Are you okay?”
But there was no answer.
#
The boy huddled in the corner of the porch looking out at the girl on the street. He hadn’t meant to let her see him, but now that she had, he only had two choices: scare her off or lure her in. Once she knew he existed, he’d have no choice but to destroy her. Because no one could know he was here. If he was found and flushed from his sanctuary, the king of Hell would find him. The magic here was ancient and strong, and hid him, but there would be no hiding if he couldn’t stay. He was a beast. But he was not your typical beast. He was, in fact, a demon. Eons earlier, the king of Hell had created him from Pride, and, in turn, he had taken the name Lucifer, because only the proud are arrogant enough to take His name. For centuries, he’d roamed the earth, tempting mortals down the fiery path.
But, Luc was done doing Lucifer’s bidding. He’d found this place in his wanderings, and had often come here over the years anytime he needed to be out from under his king’s scrutiny. For the last few years it had been his self-imposed exile.
As Luc peered from the shadows at the girl, thick blond waves framing a pale face, something deep inside him sprang to life. Something about her was different than the other mortals he’d encountered. Without making a conscious decision, he felt his feet move him forward, out of the shifting darkness and into the thin rays of sun filtering through the thick canopy of leaves above. The sun hurt his eyes and he squinted against it, raising his forearm over his face.
The girl’s eyes widened when she saw him. “Are you okay?” she called again.
He nodded and stepped further into the light as his eyes adjusted.
“Can I…?” The girl looked unsure as she lifted her hand to the latch of the gate.
He nodded again, unable to stop himself, even though he knew the consequences. He’d have to kill her. Or keep her, a voice deep inside him urged.
She pushed tentatively through the gate but was cautious to keep her distance.
#
He’s beautiful, Frannie thought to herself as she looked at the boy on the porch. As he lowered his arm from his eyes, she really saw them; black as night in a pale face. His jet-black hair hung into them, making him look wild. And dangerous. A little thrill raced through her at the thought. Something about him drew her closer, despite her apprehension. The way he stood, staring down at her, he seemed strong and confident, but also maybe a little vulnerable.
“Who are you?” she asked, and realized her voice shook slightly.
“No one you want to know,” he responded, his voice low and scratchy, like he hadn’t used it in a while. She knew she should be scared. She knew she should run. But she couldn’t. “What are you doing here?” “The question, it would seem, is what are you doing here?” His gaze didn’t waver and his eyes seemed to pierce through her.
“I…” She trailed off, but then found her confidence again. “I heard something yesterday. Was that you?”
He continued to stare down at her and his eyes narrowed. “That depends on what you heard.”
“Something seemed…” She hesitated again. “…hurt, I guess.”
He didn’t answer, but she was sure something in his expression changed. Darkened.
She backed a step toward the gate. “So…I’m just going to…”
“You can come up, if you like,” he said, a hint of desperation in his words.
“Um…no. I have to go.”
#
He knew he shouldn’t let her leave. It was certain suicide. Thanks to local legend, he’d only been discovered by one other mortal—a young boy who’d entered the house on a dare from friends. In that instance, the legend had worked to his advantage. He was able to convince the mortal boy that he was an apparition. A ghost. The boy fled and perpetuated the myth. Since then, he’d been left alone.
Utterly alone.
He gazed down at the girl and thought about turning on his demonic charm…enticing her to stay. But something in his gut caught at the thought of what must come after if he did. He’d have to kill her or drive her mad.
Luc looked at her again, something tugging hard at his gut. Because if he drove her mad, she’s never leave. He’d no longer be alone.
He took another step forward. “Actually, I believe I may be injured.”
The girl slowed her retreat. “What?”
“You asked if I was okay. I’m not.”
She stopped backing toward the gate, but didn’t move toward the porch either. “What’s wrong?”
Everything, he thought to himself. But, instead of saying that, he resorting to his old tricks and reached into her mind, clouding her thoughts just the slightest bit. “My heart is breaking.”
For a moment, she just stood staring at him, her face blank. She took a step forward and he felt a stirring inside of him. She hesitated at the stairs and he pushed harder, encouraging her forward. But, as her foot lifted to the first stair, something snagged his brimstone heart. Regret? What’s wrong with me?
Before he had time to think better of it, he stepped through the door into the dark house and released her from his spell. He watched from the window as she stopped mid-stride, blinking. She looked around, then spun and jogged for the gate.
He was watching the next day when she passed by the house. She glanced nervously in his direction and picked up her pace. He turned from the second story window and peered into the dusty room, empty except for a pile of paint supplies in the corner. He moved to his wall mural of the Abyss and picked up a brush. But as he swept it over the roiling molten gold surface of the Lake of Fire, he sensed the presence of a mortal nearby. And the next instant, there was a knock at the front door.
#
Frannie stood on the front porch, shaking. All day, she’d been thinking about the boy. When she left school, she’d planned to take a longer route home, bypassing the house, but found herself walking past it. And now, she was standing on the porch.
For a long time nothing happened, and she began to wonder if she’s imagined the whole thing. Her memories of the day before were fuzzy. But she remembered the boy. And she remembered feeling drawn to him.
Just as she was losing her nerve, the door cracked open. Inside, the beautiful boy peered out at her through the narrow opening.
Frannie swallowed and forced herself not to run. “Hello.”
The opening widened and the boy stepped forward. “Hello.”
“So…are you really hurt?”
He hesitated. “I suppose that depends on your definition of hurt.”
A shudder racked her. “Can I—”
“Come in,” he finished for her, swinging the door wide.
She knew he would invite her in. She usually got what she wanted. It was a skill she didn’t even begin to understand, but all she had to do was want something and she had it. Even so, where she’d been anxious before, she felt cold fear grip her. She paused, too long.
“Or don’t,” he said with a smooth smile.
She heard the challenge in his words. Taking a deep breath, she pushed past him into the house, reminding herself that this was her idea. Once inside, she pulled up short as she looked around. There was no furniture, no decorations…nothing. “How long have you lived here?”
“Not long,” the boy said.
She turned back to him. “My mother taught me not to talk to strangers…so…I’m Frannie. And you are…?”
He looked at her, his gaze intense. For a long time, he said nothing and she began to wish she’d just walked by. “Luc,” he finally said. “My name is Luc.”
#
This close, Luc could smell her fear—tangy citrus. He didn’t understand the sudden compulsion he had to invite her in, but here she was. He had never been in this position before. He’d tempted hundreds of girls just like this one down the fiery path. But there was something different about this one. He couldn’t explain the rush that rolled through his insides when he opened the door and found her standing there, on his porch, of her own volition. And now she was in his house, introducing herself as if her mortal soul wasn’t in immanent peril. He started to reach into her mind again, but pulled back. If he were to be safe, it would have to be at her expense. The instant he’d seen her standing outside, he’d decided he wouldn’t kill her, but her mind would need to be twisted.
But not yet.
He moved to the kitchen waving his hand discretely in that direction, and a table and two chairs materialized in the center of the room just as he passed through the door. Frannie followed him through.
“Can I offer you something to drink?” He pulled open the refrigerator and two bottles of beer materialized on the shelf. He lifted them out of the refrigerator and held them up.
“Um…okay,” she answered, lowering herself into a chair. “Who lives here with you?”
Luc twisted off the bottle cap and handed it to her, holding her gaze. “No one.”
He watched as Frannie glanced at the door, a slightly panicked look flashing across her face. “You live here alone? How old are you?”
He hesitated before answering. The fact that he was seven thousand years old would probably not be well received. “How old do you think I am?”
She scowled. “Do you ever actually answer questions?”
“That depends on the question.” Luc could hear the amusement in his voice, but was helpless to contain it.
He watched anger flare in her eyes and caught the scent of black pepper—fury. “Stop it!” She pushed to her feet and he felt his insides tighten.
“Nineteen,” he said, suddenly desperate for her not to leave.
“What?” Frannie said.
“You asked my age. Nineteen.” It sounded reasonable enough, and he guessed she was seventeen or eighteen.
“Where are your parents?” she asked, settling back into the chair.
Luc shrugged. “I never knew them.”
“Oh…sorry.” He could see Frannie’s chagrin.
The topic changed, Frannie’s curiosity covering everything from where he went to school to what he liked to eat. It wasn’t until she stood to leave he realized he’d completely forgotten he had a strategy.
He was supposed to be worming his way into her mind—causing her to want to stay…forever. As she moved to the door, he started to push with his mind, but then couldn’t make himself follow through. What was stopping him?
He couldn’t put a name to it, but something tugged at his gut. He watched Frannie open the door and step through, unable to stop her.
“So…see you later?” The question in her voice surprised him. He had the sudden compulsion to warn her off—to tell her not to return. But, instead, he nodded.
She smiled and headed for the stairs, but then something occurred to him. “Frannie.” She turned back to him. “It’d be better if people didn’t know I was here.”
She looked at him a moment longer and nodded.
#
The instant he said it, Frannie understood. Luc wasn’t supposed to be here. He was homeless. Squatting. And she knew she wasn’t going to give him away. She found the thought of having him to herself exciting and decided she’d keep her mouth shut. But she visited everyday after school. The second time she’d walked into his house, there was a couch and chair nestled around a low coffee table in the room that had been empty the day before. When she’d asked where the furniture had come from, he said he’d found it. She thought it was more likely he’d stolen it. But she didn’t say anything.
Mostly, they talked about everything and nothing. She told him about her family, and her sisters who drove her crazy; about judo, which she had a back belt in; and vintage Mustangs, which she restored with her grandfather. As she thought about it, she realized she was the one doing most of the talking, but he seemed happy enough to listen. She’d sit and do her homework, and was surprised when Luc was able to help when she was stuck on her calculus problems. And he always seemed to be able to produce exactly what she was craving, whether it was mocha java lava ice cream or Starbursts or atomic chicken wings.
Over the next several weeks, she felt herself growing closer to him, but her attempts at coaxing him out of the house always failed. He would stiffen and make up some excuse anytime she suggested they go for a walk in the woods, or out for a pizza. Which made her wonder if he was more than homeless. She felt dread course through her at the realization that he was running from someone. He was probably a criminal. But as she looked at him, reading her school copy of The Grapes of Wrath, she couldn’t see it. If he didn’t want to leave the house—be discovered—she was sure there was a good reason.
It wasn’t until the day her brother came up that she knew she was falling in love with Luc. She’d started crying when she told Luc about how he’d died. He’d wiped her tears away and drawn her to his shoulder. And she felt safe there. He’d held her until she was done crying and then he’d told her it was okay. “Children always go to Heaven,” he’d said with an air of authority, as if he knew this for a fact. And hearing that somehow made her felt better.
#
Luc felt himself changing. He couldn’t explain the feeling, other than to say he felt emotions flaring in him that he’d never experienced before. But the more time he spent around Frannie, the more it became apparent that he wasn’t the same demon he’d always been. And when she’d told him about the death of her twin brother, and the tears had spilled onto her cheeks, he wanted nothing more than to take away all her pain. He’d felt the hot throbbing lump in the back of his throat as she’d cried. And when she was finished, he’d felt the compulsion to tell her that her brother was in Heaven. Children never went to Hell.
When she’d picked up her textbooks to leave, he’d felt a pull at his heart he’d never experienced before. An indescribable need to be with her—closer to her. Before he realized what he was doing, he’d leaned in and kissed her.
In that instant, he felt a burst of bliss explode inside him. And the next instant, when he felt her lips moving on his, kissing him back, and caught the sudden burst of warm chocolate, everything changed. He pulled away and gazed down at her. Was he in love? Was that this uncontrollable need he had to be with her? Chocolate? Was that love? Did she love him as well? Suddenly, his survival didn’t matter as much. All he cared about was her. It was everything he could do to let her go.
After she’d gone, he sat on the couch, staring at the place she’d been. As he stood, he noticed a paper that had slid to the ground, under the low wooded coffee table where Frannie had been working. He reached for it, and when he saw his name written in pencil, traced and doodled over repeatedly, his brimstone heart throbbed. He laid the paper on the table and felt the sting as it slid across his finger. When he lifted it and saw the thin crimson line of the paper cut, he went suddenly cold.
Blood.
Demons didn’t bleed.
What did this mean? He couldn’t comprehend what had happened to him, but he knew beyond a doubt that it was Frannie’s doing. He laid his hand on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart. When he tried to hold his breath, he found it impossible. He needed oxygen. And, just at that moment, his stomach growled. Had he turned human? The thought sent as shudder through him. If it was true, his exile was no longer necessary. He no longer belonged to the king of Hell.
He was free.
#
When Luc opened the door for Frannie the next day, she knew instantly that something was different. He’d kissed her. She’d spent all night thinking about it. Remembering it. Dreaming about it. She’d been nervous as he’d walked slowly up the stairs and knocked, not sure what to expect. But now, looking into his face, she couldn’t stop her smile. His eyes were bright as he stepped onto the porch and smiled down at her.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
“Really?” Frannie couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. “You’re sure?”
A grin broke across his face as he glanced at his hand and Frannie noticed a bandage wrapped around his index finger. “I’m sure.” He only hesitated a second as he stepped off the porch. He looked cautiously to the heavens, as if waiting for someone to strike him down, but then he smiled at Frannie and wove his fingers into hers.
Frannie expected him to head for the woods, out of sight of the neighbors, but he turned for the street instead. They pushed through the gate and walked up the road without talking, hand in hand. “Frannie?” Luc finally asked.
She looked up at him, a flutter in her belly at the sound of her name coming from his lips. “What?” “Have things ever happened to you that you can’t explain? Have you ever…changed things? Changed people’s minds?”
Her stomach turned, thinking about all the times exactly that had happened. “Um…yeah. A lot. How did you know?”
“Because I think you’ve changed more than my mind.”
She stopped walking and turned to him, trying to read his expression, but before she could get a grip on what she was seeing in his face, he was kissing her again. Finally, he pulled back and gazed down into her eyes. “I think maybe it’s time I met your family, now that I’m…free,” he said, and even though Frannie had no idea what he was talking about, her heart soared.
——————
I have two copies of Original Sin to giveaway! First one is signed and will be shipped Internationally and the second one, from the publisher, will be shipped to US & Canada only!
Luc Cain was born and raised in Hell, but he isn’t feeling as demonic as usual lately—thanks to Frannie Cavanaugh and the unique power she never realized she had. But you can’t desert Hell without consequences, and suddenly Frannie and Luc find themselves targeted by the same demons who used to be Luc’s allies.
Left with few options, Frannie and Luc accept the protection of Heaven and one of its most powerful angels, Gabe. Unfortunately, Luc isn’t the only one affected by Frannie, and it isn’t long before Gabe realizes that being around her is too…tempting. Rather than risk losing his wings, he leaves Frannie and Luc under the protection of her recently-acquired guardian angel.
Which would be fine, but Gabe is barely out the door before an assortment of demons appears—and they’re not leaving without dragging Luc back to Hell with them. Hell won’t give up and Heaven won’t give in. Frannie’s guardian exercises all the power he has to keep them away, but the demons are willing to hurt anyone close to Frannie in order to get what they want. It will take everything she has and then some to stay out of Hell’s grasp.
Lisa lives in central California with her husband and two very busy daughters. There is never a time that she can be found without a book in her hand, and she adores stories that take her to new places, and then take her by surprise. Books that changed her world include JRR Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings and A Separate Peace by John Knowles. Contemporary authors that she can’t get enough of include Melissa Marr, Kristin Cashore, Jay Asher, and Suzanne Collins.
I’m a HUGE fan of Jeaniene Frost’s Night Huntress series, so I HAD to invite her to this event. Unfortunately, the timing was bad for her schedule, but she still wanted to contribute in some way, and offered two copies of One Grave at a Time, her upcoming release (August 30th).
You’ll have to work a bit though to earn your copy =) I would like you to cast the main characters for your entry!
Don’t worry though, I also picked my own cast ^^ It might give you some inspiration!
Having narrowly averted an (under)world war, Cat Crawfield wants nothing more than a little downtime with her vampire husband, Bones. Unfortunately, her gift from New Orleans’ voodoo queen just keeps on giving–leading to a personal favor that sends them into battle once again, this time against a villainous spirit.
Centuries ago, Heinrich Kramer was a witch hunter. Now, every All Hallows Eve, he takes physical form to torture innocent women before burning them alive. This year, however, a determined Cat and Bones must risk all to send him back to the other side of eternity–forever. But how do you kill a killer who’s already long dead?
I’m a HUGE fan of Jeaniene Frost’s Night Huntress series, so I HAD to invite her to this event. Unfortunately, the timing was bad for her schedule, but she still wanted to contribute in some way, and offered two copies of One Grave at a Time, her upcoming release (August 30th).
You’ll have to work a bit though to earn your copy =) I would like you to cast the main characters for your entry!
Don’t worry though, I also picked my own cast ^^ It might give you some inspiration!
Having narrowly averted an (under)world war, Cat Crawfield wants nothing more than a little downtime with her vampire husband, Bones. Unfortunately, her gift from New Orleans’ voodoo queen just keeps on giving–leading to a personal favor that sends them into battle once again, this time against a villainous spirit.
Centuries ago, Heinrich Kramer was a witch hunter. Now, every All Hallows Eve, he takes physical form to torture innocent women before burning them alive. This year, however, a determined Cat and Bones must risk all to send him back to the other side of eternity–forever. But how do you kill a killer who’s already long dead?
Jessie Gillmansen is a small town girl with a big imagination and even bigger problems when a family of Russian-Americans move into her hometown of Junction bringing paranormal trouble. Jessie narrates most of the 13 to Life series and only gets a little break starting in Bargains and Betrayals (book 3, releasing August 16) when she splits the job of narration with one of the troublesome imports. This "Red Riding Remix" is narrated by her and introduces those of you who aren’t yet familiar with the books to two of my scene-stealing secondary characters. I hope you enjoy it and, as Pietr would say: Live life fiercely!
——————
I was out for a trail ride on Rio one crisp autumn evening when I saw the tracks. Someone wearing sneakers had jogged their way down the dusty path and from the depth of the imprint of the right foot I guessed the girl was carrying something pretty heavy.
No one was supposed to be out in the woods after dark — we’d been having sightings of all sorts of strange things around Junction lately.
Rio danced beneath me, hooves slapping the leaf litter, eager to finish our ride and return home to the safety of her locked stall. “Easy, girl,” I whispered, patting her neck. “Let’s just follow a hunch…”
We went a few steps further and I saw it — the tracks of a huge canine.
Rio wuffled, her nostrils flaring.
“I think we should intercede before someone gets the fright of their life,” I muttered.
I pressed my heels into her sides and we followed the trail, only pausing briefly to step around a large picnic basket, its contents spilled across the path.
“We’d better hurry…”
Up ahead I saw the beast’s back as it pinned its struggling prey to a tree. A red riding hood whipped loose from the victim in the breeze, the girl’s long hair snaking out in wild auburn tendrils.
“Let her go, you beast!” I thundered, forcing Rio forward.
The creature, furred like a wolf but with strange proportions, stood on its hind legs, its front paws braced on either side of the girl’s shoulders.
“I said–”
Why did she not scream — why not cry out in fear?
The werewolf was shoved aside by the girl.
He dropped to all fours and began to change, fur receding to show smooth and supple flesh.
And the victim — a girl I thought I recognized — turned her vengeful anger on me — her rescuer!
“Honest to God, Jessie,” Amy snapped as she wiped drool off her cheek, “you and your writer’s imagination… I swear. I can’t get a moment’s peace around here.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and straightened her jogging suit. “And you” – she scolded the werewolf, now a handsome young man with dark curls tumbling into his blue eyes– “enough with the stalking and the pouncing and the licking my face thing. I mean — eww!”
Max looked up at her with a grin that could only mean trouble. But Amy couldn’t resist his brand of trouble. He leaned back, watching her — thankfully back in his jeans — and mentioned, “You were saying: What big teeth you have…?”
Amy blushed and I sighed, turning Rio back toward home, and the barn. Amy made a little coughing noise and laughed. “And what big–”
I couldn’t help it. I pressed my hands to my ears and, taking a cue from my best friend Amy, sang loudly to block out their conversation, letting Rio set the pace home.
——————
Locked away at Pecan Place, Jessie finds her situation to be even more dangerous than she feared. While she struggles to maintain her sanity and discover answers about the group that seems less and less like any legitimate government agency, Pietr fights to keep their relationship alive. But very aware that his mother’s time is running out, Pietr makes a deal he doesn’t dare tell Jessie about. Because the deal Pietr’s made could mean the death of far more than his tenuous relationship with the girl he loves.
Shannon Delany has written stories since she was a child. She began writing in earnest when her grandmother fell unexpectedly ill during a family vacation. In 2008 her greatly abbreviated version of 13 to Life (written in just five weeks) won the grand prize in the first-ever cell phone novel contest in the western world through Textnovel.com.
Shannon was thrilled when St. Martin’s Press offered her a contract for a series about her 13 to Life characters. She expanded on the cell phone novel version, adding the subplots and characters she didn’t have time to during the contest. As paranormal as werewolves seem, the grief Shannon used to build Jess’s character is something she personally experienced with the loss of her own mother. Focusing on Jess and Pietr’s story of loss, love and dramatic and dangerous changes, Shannon came to better grips with her own struggle. The resulting novel has earned her blurbs from authors she respects most.
Jessie Gillmansen is a small town girl with a big imagination and even bigger problems when a family of Russian-Americans move into her hometown of Junction bringing paranormal trouble. Jessie narrates most of the 13 to Life series and only gets a little break starting in Bargains and Betrayals (book 3, releasing August 16) when she splits the job of narration with one of the troublesome imports. This "Red Riding Remix" is narrated by her and introduces those of you who aren’t yet familiar with the books to two of my scene-stealing secondary characters. I hope you enjoy it and, as Pietr would say: Live life fiercely!
——————
I was out for a trail ride on Rio one crisp autumn evening when I saw the tracks. Someone wearing sneakers had jogged their way down the dusty path and from the depth of the imprint of the right foot I guessed the girl was carrying something pretty heavy.
No one was supposed to be out in the woods after dark — we’d been having sightings of all sorts of strange things around Junction lately.
Rio danced beneath me, hooves slapping the leaf litter, eager to finish our ride and return home to the safety of her locked stall. “Easy, girl,” I whispered, patting her neck. “Let’s just follow a hunch…”
We went a few steps further and I saw it — the tracks of a huge canine.
Rio wuffled, her nostrils flaring.
“I think we should intercede before someone gets the fright of their life,” I muttered.
I pressed my heels into her sides and we followed the trail, only pausing briefly to step around a large picnic basket, its contents spilled across the path.
“We’d better hurry…”
Up ahead I saw the beast’s back as it pinned its struggling prey to a tree. A red riding hood whipped loose from the victim in the breeze, the girl’s long hair snaking out in wild auburn tendrils.
“Let her go, you beast!” I thundered, forcing Rio forward.
The creature, furred like a wolf but with strange proportions, stood on its hind legs, its front paws braced on either side of the girl’s shoulders.
“I said–”
Why did she not scream — why not cry out in fear?
The werewolf was shoved aside by the girl.
He dropped to all fours and began to change, fur receding to show smooth and supple flesh.
And the victim — a girl I thought I recognized — turned her vengeful anger on me — her rescuer!
“Honest to God, Jessie,” Amy snapped as she wiped drool off her cheek, “you and your writer’s imagination… I swear. I can’t get a moment’s peace around here.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and straightened her jogging suit. “And you” – she scolded the werewolf, now a handsome young man with dark curls tumbling into his blue eyes– “enough with the stalking and the pouncing and the licking my face thing. I mean — eww!”
Max looked up at her with a grin that could only mean trouble. But Amy couldn’t resist his brand of trouble. He leaned back, watching her — thankfully back in his jeans — and mentioned, “You were saying: What big teeth you have…?”
Amy blushed and I sighed, turning Rio back toward home, and the barn. Amy made a little coughing noise and laughed. “And what big–”
I couldn’t help it. I pressed my hands to my ears and, taking a cue from my best friend Amy, sang loudly to block out their conversation, letting Rio set the pace home.
——————
Locked away at Pecan Place, Jessie finds her situation to be even more dangerous than she feared. While she struggles to maintain her sanity and discover answers about the group that seems less and less like any legitimate government agency, Pietr fights to keep their relationship alive. But very aware that his mother’s time is running out, Pietr makes a deal he doesn’t dare tell Jessie about. Because the deal Pietr’s made could mean the death of far more than his tenuous relationship with the girl he loves.
Shannon Delany has written stories since she was a child. She began writing in earnest when her grandmother fell unexpectedly ill during a family vacation. In 2008 her greatly abbreviated version of 13 to Life (written in just five weeks) won the grand prize in the first-ever cell phone novel contest in the western world through Textnovel.com.
Shannon was thrilled when St. Martin’s Press offered her a contract for a series about her 13 to Life characters. She expanded on the cell phone novel version, adding the subplots and characters she didn’t have time to during the contest. As paranormal as werewolves seem, the grief Shannon used to build Jess’s character is something she personally experienced with the loss of her own mother. Focusing on Jess and Pietr’s story of loss, love and dramatic and dangerous changes, Shannon came to better grips with her own struggle. The resulting novel has earned her blurbs from authors she respects most.
Cass Dollar has survived the end of the world – twice. First she lost everything that mattered to her when her baby daughter was taken away from her, due to her alcoholism. That was the end of the only world she cared about. Then the country fell to famine and war, only to be overrun by zombie-like cannibals named Beaters. Cass gets her daughter back in AFTERTIME, the first book in the series, only to battle new evils in REBIRTH.
Sophie decided to immerse Cass in a fable called The Bear and the Travelers, it’s a great fable but I hadn’t heard of it before so here’s the description from Wikipedia:
“The Bear and the Travelers”: Two friends walking through rough country are suddenly confronted by a bear. One of the travellers saves himself by scrambling up a tree while the other throws himself on the ground and pretends to be dead. The animal comes close and sniffs him over but then leaves, for bears are reputed not to touch dead meat. Then the man in the tree came down to his comrade and jokingly asked what the bear had been saying to him. "It was some good advice," said his friend; "he told me never to trust someone who deserts you in need."
Now Sophie’s take on it!
“I’d hoped we’d be done by now,” Cass said, irritably. Raiding was best done in the dark. The thin beam of her headlamp was not enough to rouse sleeping Beaters, but the dawn – evident in the pink at the horizon – would wake them from their nests, triggering their skin-lust wanderings, sharpening their senses.
“Relax, Cass. Henderson said it was a yellow house and this is the only yellow house around, far as I can see.”
They’d spend the night looking for the usual stuff – medicine, nonperishable food, warm clothes. It had been a while since she’d gone raiding, and she wouldn’t ordinarily have teamed up with Zed, who took too many risks and used drugs recreationally that could have been better used to stockpile for the needs of the rest of the people on the island. But her daughter Ruthie had outgrown her boots, and Cass was desperate to find her a new pair: there was still plenty of winter ahead, and the cold and damp would seep through Ruthie’s old sneakers.
Cass had hit the jackpot, finding a pair of boy’s snow boots that were just a little too large. With extra socks they’d be perfect. Cass and Zed had retraced the path already taken by the other raiders – the boots had been left behind by those who had no use for them. Now Zed wanted to follow up a tip about a tool shed behind the yellow house – he had no interested in the tools themselves, but they could be traded for the things he did want.
They circled the yellow house, which was in fair shape for Aftertime, the roof intact, the porch still standing. They’d rounded the corner and were standing in the dead-grass yard between the house and shed – really, it was a small detached garage – when there was a sound, a scraping that sounded like wood on wood.
“Shit,” Zed muttered, as Cass’s hand went to her blade and she crouched down, listening for the source of the sound.
A second sound, the tread of feet, sounding like it came from the porch in front. They hadn’t checked the house for nests – ordinarily the Beaters preferred a shelter with an opening, but maybe the door had been propped open, it had been too dim in the early morning light to see.
Cass and Zed both looked around frantically for shelter, but there was none to be had. The house was several hundred feet from the nearest neighbor, and after that it was just fields and farm roads. There were no trees to climb, no junked cars to scramble into.
Zed ran for the garage and threw himself inside. Before Cass could follow she heard the sound of a bolt being slammed home.
Zed had left her to fight alone.
#
Half an hour later he emerged, looking more pissed off than sheepish. He found them on the porch, where the squatter had brought out a jar of tea. There was no Beater nest inside the house, only the humble home of a woman who’d rather take her chances alone than join the ragtag community on the island.
Zed didn’t bother greeting the squatter, whose name was Cheryl. She was probably close to forty, though her weathered face looked ten years older, and her wiry, muscular frame at least a decade younger.
“She got anything worth taking?” Zed asked Cass, not even bothering to address the woman. His pack was already loaded with tools he’d stolen from her shed.
“Only good advice,” the woman said softly. Before Zed could react, she’d drawn the gun from her waist and had it pointed at him. “Now you return what’s mine, or I’ll drop you where you stand.”
“She told me that a friend who deserts me when I need him isn’t a friend at all,” Cass added.
#
——————
Sophie would like to offer one of you a signed copy of Rebirth the second book in the Aftertime series!
The end of the world was just the beginning
Civilization has fallen, leaving California an unforgiving, decimated place. But Cass Dollar beat terrible odds to get her missing daughter back—she and Ruthie will be happy.
Yet with the first winter, Cass is reminded that happiness is fleeting in Aftertime. Ruthie retreats into silence.
Flesh—eating Beaters still dominate the landscape. And Smoke, Cass’s lover and strength, departs on a quest for vengeance, one that may end him even if he returns.
The survivalist community Cass has planted roots in is breaking apart, too. Its leader, Dor, implores Cass to help him recover his own lost daughter, taken by the totalitarian Rebuilders. And soon Cass finds herself thrust into the dark heart of an organization promising humanity’s rebirth—at all costs.
Bound to two men blazing divergent paths across a savage land, Cass must overcome the darkness in her wounded heart, or lose those she loves forever.
Sophie grew up in central Missouri, daughter of a history professor father and an artist mother. She earned a degree in computer science and made very little use of it. After living in Chicago for ten years, she and her husband packed up the kids and moved to Northern California in 1998.
Cass Dollar has survived the end of the world – twice. First she lost everything that mattered to her when her baby daughter was taken away from her, due to her alcoholism. That was the end of the only world she cared about. Then the country fell to famine and war, only to be overrun by zombie-like cannibals named Beaters. Cass gets her daughter back in AFTERTIME, the first book in the series, only to battle new evils in REBIRTH.
Sophie decided to immerse Cass in a fable called The Bear and the Travelers, it’s a great fable but I hadn’t heard of it before so here’s the description from Wikipedia:
“The Bear and the Travelers”: Two friends walking through rough country are suddenly confronted by a bear. One of the travellers saves himself by scrambling up a tree while the other throws himself on the ground and pretends to be dead. The animal comes close and sniffs him over but then leaves, for bears are reputed not to touch dead meat. Then the man in the tree came down to his comrade and jokingly asked what the bear had been saying to him. "It was some good advice," said his friend; "he told me never to trust someone who deserts you in need."
Now Sophie’s take on it!
“I’d hoped we’d be done by now,” Cass said, irritably. Raiding was best done in the dark. The thin beam of her headlamp was not enough to rouse sleeping Beaters, but the dawn – evident in the pink at the horizon – would wake them from their nests, triggering their skin-lust wanderings, sharpening their senses.
“Relax, Cass. Henderson said it was a yellow house and this is the only yellow house around, far as I can see.”
They’d spend the night looking for the usual stuff – medicine, nonperishable food, warm clothes. It had been a while since she’d gone raiding, and she wouldn’t ordinarily have teamed up with Zed, who took too many risks and used drugs recreationally that could have been better used to stockpile for the needs of the rest of the people on the island. But her daughter Ruthie had outgrown her boots, and Cass was desperate to find her a new pair: there was still plenty of winter ahead, and the cold and damp would seep through Ruthie’s old sneakers.
Cass had hit the jackpot, finding a pair of boy’s snow boots that were just a little too large. With extra socks they’d be perfect. Cass and Zed had retraced the path already taken by the other raiders – the boots had been left behind by those who had no use for them. Now Zed wanted to follow up a tip about a tool shed behind the yellow house – he had no interested in the tools themselves, but they could be traded for the things he did want.
They circled the yellow house, which was in fair shape for Aftertime, the roof intact, the porch still standing. They’d rounded the corner and were standing in the dead-grass yard between the house and shed – really, it was a small detached garage – when there was a sound, a scraping that sounded like wood on wood.
“Shit,” Zed muttered, as Cass’s hand went to her blade and she crouched down, listening for the source of the sound.
A second sound, the tread of feet, sounding like it came from the porch in front. They hadn’t checked the house for nests – ordinarily the Beaters preferred a shelter with an opening, but maybe the door had been propped open, it had been too dim in the early morning light to see.
Cass and Zed both looked around frantically for shelter, but there was none to be had. The house was several hundred feet from the nearest neighbor, and after that it was just fields and farm roads. There were no trees to climb, no junked cars to scramble into.
Zed ran for the garage and threw himself inside. Before Cass could follow she heard the sound of a bolt being slammed home.
Zed had left her to fight alone.
#
Half an hour later he emerged, looking more pissed off than sheepish. He found them on the porch, where the squatter had brought out a jar of tea. There was no Beater nest inside the house, only the humble home of a woman who’d rather take her chances alone than join the ragtag community on the island.
Zed didn’t bother greeting the squatter, whose name was Cheryl. She was probably close to forty, though her weathered face looked ten years older, and her wiry, muscular frame at least a decade younger.
“She got anything worth taking?” Zed asked Cass, not even bothering to address the woman. His pack was already loaded with tools he’d stolen from her shed.
“Only good advice,” the woman said softly. Before Zed could react, she’d drawn the gun from her waist and had it pointed at him. “Now you return what’s mine, or I’ll drop you where you stand.”
“She told me that a friend who deserts me when I need him isn’t a friend at all,” Cass added.
#
——————
Sophie would like to offer one of you a signed copy of Rebirth the second book in the Aftertime series!
The end of the world was just the beginning
Civilization has fallen, leaving California an unforgiving, decimated place. But Cass Dollar beat terrible odds to get her missing daughter back—she and Ruthie will be happy.
Yet with the first winter, Cass is reminded that happiness is fleeting in Aftertime. Ruthie retreats into silence.
Flesh—eating Beaters still dominate the landscape. And Smoke, Cass’s lover and strength, departs on a quest for vengeance, one that may end him even if he returns.
The survivalist community Cass has planted roots in is breaking apart, too. Its leader, Dor, implores Cass to help him recover his own lost daughter, taken by the totalitarian Rebuilders. And soon Cass finds herself thrust into the dark heart of an organization promising humanity’s rebirth—at all costs.
Bound to two men blazing divergent paths across a savage land, Cass must overcome the darkness in her wounded heart, or lose those she loves forever.
Sophie grew up in central Missouri, daughter of a history professor father and an artist mother. She earned a degree in computer science and made very little use of it. After living in Chicago for ten years, she and her husband packed up the kids and moved to Northern California in 1998.
One day, a messenger from the palace arrived with an invitation for all the members of the household to attend a royal ball. As Cinderlily listened with eager excitement from the next room, her imagination swam wild with beautiful music, swirling gowns, and hours upon hours of dancing. 
On Lily Sanderson’s eighteenth birthday she’ll become just a girl—still a mergirl, true, but signing the renunciation will ink Princess Waterlily of Thalassinia out of existence. That leaves plain old Lily living on land, dating the boy she loves, and trying to master this being-human thing once and for all.
Tera Lynn Childs is the award-winning author of the mythology-based Oh. My. Gods. and Goddess Boot Camp, the mermaid tales Forgive My Fins and Fins Are Forever (June 28, 2011) and a new trilogy about monster-hunting descendants of Medusa, starting with Sweet Venom (October 4, 2011). She has also epublished two fun chick lit romances, Eye Candy and Straight Stalk. Tera lives nowhere in particular and spends her time writing wherever she can find a comfy chair and a steady stream of caffeinated beverages.
Award-winning author Cynthia Eden writes paranormal romances and romantic suspense novels. Her romantic suspense novel, DEADLY FEAR, was recently named as a RITA finalist.
The author has over 6 years freelance experience in technical writing, editing and screenplays. More recently, this repertoire has expanded to include short stories and a series of urban fantasy novels in progress.
“Who are you?” she asked, and realized her voice shook slightly.
Mostly, they talked about everything and nothing. She told him about her family, and her sisters who drove her crazy; about judo, which she had a back belt in; and vintage Mustangs, which she restored with her grandfather. As she thought about it, she realized she was the one doing most of the talking, but he seemed happy enough to listen. She’d sit and do her homework, and was surprised when Luc was able to help when she was stuck on her calculus problems. And he always seemed to be able to produce exactly what she was craving, whether it was mocha java lava ice cream or Starbursts or atomic chicken wings.
Shannon Delany has written stories since she was a child. She began writing in earnest when her grandmother fell unexpectedly ill during a family vacation. In 2008 her greatly abbreviated version of 13 to Life (written in just five weeks) won the grand prize in the first-ever cell phone novel contest in the western world through 
was in fair shape for Aftertime, the roof intact, the porch still standing. They’d rounded the corner and were standing in the dead-grass yard between the house and shed – really, it was a small detached garage – when there was a sound, a scraping that sounded like wood on wood.
The end of the world was just the beginning
Sophie grew up in central Missouri, daughter of a history professor father and an artist mother. She earned a degree in computer science and made very little use of it. After living in Chicago for ten years, she and her husband packed up the kids and moved to Northern California in 1998.
was in fair shape for Aftertime, the roof intact, the porch still standing. They’d rounded the corner and were standing in the dead-grass yard between the house and shed – really, it was a small detached garage – when there was a sound, a scraping that sounded like wood on wood.
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