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SUMMARY: I was a lost cause. Neither human nor wolf but a bit of both. I was the first. The original. I began my race with a simple wish. Not realizing the curse it would become. I was a simple creature until I stumbled across the sorceress. A soulless enchantress. Willing to give me what I wanted in order to see my further suffering. I vowed I'd never have a mate. All I knew was endless pain, isolation and emptiness until the day I was gifted a woman who wanted nothing to do with me. The fiercest, most gorgeous, redheaded hellion. She's something straight from my nightmares. The very first thing that's made me feel anything in over a century. Which means I can never have her. Nothing more than one night of wild pleasure. Beyond that, I have to let her go. If she'll let me...

17 Rithra

So...I've been asked a few times, how I conceive my plots and draw them out, to create my intricate story lines. The answer is...Terribly. I do a terrible job of that. I've no formal schooling in writing, which I'm sure is painfully obvious to anyone who has. Everything I've learned, I learned by falling on my face. Which should, by all rights, qualify me as an expert at this point. Lol. I'm kidding. Truthfully, I've been very blessed. When I sat down, began, and listened to my fans, I've found my career bloomed in less than a year. From everything I've researched and read, that does seem to be rare. So I give them great credit for walking me along. I've no idea who I've offended, but I don't dwell much on it. I just keep moving forward. There are no sticky notes on my walls. Or roughly scribbled notes in countless notebooks on my desk. There's no special software I use. I wake up in the dead of night with an idea. Then I mold it in my head. A term, I affectionately dub as "mentally writing" when people ask me why I've gone quiet, staring at a leaf spinning like a top on the lawn. As I come up with another five or six ideas over the following weeks after I've constructed a plot, I refrain from beginning multiple unfinished projects by figuring out how to twist those ideas and incorporate them into the project I am already working on. If I have ideas for scenes or critical plot points that I realize I want to hit, I note them in the bottom of my word document (in chronological order) and work them into the story as I go. If nothing interesting has happened to my characters in a while. I toss in a wrench, for funsies. Then have them stay true to character in how they react to those obstacles. So in summary, as far as a structured plot...I have none. But that's no excuse to not ensure that your readers are granted an intriguing experience, a sense of true emotion and a euphoric feeling when things go well for said character. Character building and world building still need to be reached as I go. And the the character should stand true throughout the story I'm trying to tell the reader. So as the plot evolves, it has to become denser and show a depth of character and personality. If you have two dimensional character, you have a two dimensional tale to tell your readers. And truthfully, you and them know they deserve better. And...That's me climbing off my soapbox. Both explaining how I fail and how I dutifully endeavor to succeed all in one little chat. Until next time, happy reading!

31 - Pierced in the Heart

16 – Forever Chained

SUMMARY: I had no idea why the panicked witches marked me at first. But it didn't take me long to realize I'd been sacrificed to assuage the hunger of an insatiable incubus. A man sentenced to haunt the Earth as a demon with a ravening hunger for human women. He won't leave me alone. How can I escape someone whom I can't even see until he's inside me. I can't touch until he's already feeling me. No one can see him but me. I can't make him stop. And the longer this goes on the less sure I am that I want it to. TEASER: His thumbs put pressure against the front of my hip bones, where they angled down toward my pelvis, forced me back down into the water. My breasts bobbing along the surface. The nipples cutting the water at the surface. His eyes watched them avidly. He licked his lips hungrily and I felt him harden against me. His fingers curled around to press into my butt cheeks. So he fully gripped my hips. Then he lifted me. Making my back slip down the far side of the bath. I knew why. I fought harder. Lurching up and looking frantically around the room for a way to escape the tub, my eyes landed on the door. There's people out there. People that might help... "Zira..." He coaxed. My eyes flew to him. He quirked his mouth and winked, and my lips stitched together. No sound could emerge. I tipped my head back sliding up and down as I fought to try and get from the tub to scream. My mouth was closed and wouldn't open. I looked down at where I struggled to withdraw my body from his grip. As I felt the first heavy stretching of my body to ease around him, I saw his rod appear. Shimmering then becoming visible along with his groin and muscled thighs. He sighed blissfully as he slowly entered me. Feeling my inner muscles bite down on every inch of him, made him growl in pleasure. I was making squeaking noises as I tossed my head. Clawing at the tub. He used his grip on my hips to lift me enough he could surge in and out of me. I had nowhere to go. I was pinned down in the bath. My hands slipping over the ledge.