Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
A teaser
Paris Immortal: Atonement, coming soon. I will mention that it's left in such a way as to make a path to a fifth book; however, I can't say that's any time soon. It's not in my head, yet. But perhaps...
For now, enjoy this teaser.
There is a reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand.
Dracula, Bram Stoker, 1897
A smile dark enough to match his eyes formed, showing me two more fangs than I’d known he possessed, making it six. “You desire vengeance. Step aside, and you shall have it; it is a specialty of mine.”
Fixed on those two very long, sharp teeth to the inside of his lengthened canines, it took me a second to register his movement. I pressed my hands to his chest again, for all the good it would do.
“Wait, wait. We have to finish the business, first.”
“Step aside,” he growled, the sound metallic, giving me a hot spinal monkey. “It is past time for him to atone for his sins.”
Yes, yes it is.
But no!
“Aeshma, please, please, wait.”
His eyes bored into mine.
“Listen. Just listen to me, please.” My thoughts ran to a place I didn’t want to drag him. But I had to. It might be my only shot at stopping him.“If you do this now, we fail. I don’t want that. I don’t want to fail Michel.” My back contacted metal again. “Do you want to fail?”
I knew what saying this might do to him, God help me, but I had to appeal to him, and it was true. It was the only reason I could imagine looking at my attacker again—when I was able to look at him—the idea of letting Michel down otherwise.
Travis’ reply sounded like boiling mercury.
“He does not deserve to breathe the same air as you any longer, Death Dancer.”
Pressed, pressed harder into the metal. If the door opened, I’d fall inside, giving me somewhere to go.
But I didn’t want it to open.
“You’re right, Aeshma, he doesn’t.” His fangs, so close to my face that his other features were out of focus. “But we will fail if you do this now. Do you hear me, Travis? Fail.”
The black of his eyes thinned, amber pushing its way through. A minute later metal wasn’t chilling me through my suit any longer.
“Fail…” he said, but there was no rejoicing on my part as I witnessed the softening of his expression.
I still had to be certain the point drove home completely, damn it. There were still black slivers trying to swallow the amber in his eyes.
“Right, an absolute fuck up, Travis. We can’t have that, now can we?”
“No, we can’t have that. I made an oath.”
“Exactly. We’re both loyal to the end. So just a while longer, okay? After we’ve wrapped this up, I can’t stop you, I know that. Just—wait.”
All the blackness in his irises disappeared, and there was the laid back Travis I’d grown accustomed to.
“Will you want to stop me later?” Even his voice had shifted, I realized.
I also realized my inability to say yes to his question.
Hey there. Yup, it’s me again.
You know the drill.
1
September 1
Michel
“You are quite close to boring me beyond death,” said Gabriel, his voice dropping another degree, along with the temperature of his gaze.
A wisp of auburn drifted across her cheek with the defiant lift of her chin. “If you want entertainment, you can buy it on the street.”
My dark angel’s smile, frostbitten on its edges, grew a degree as he took a gliding step closer to the barstool on which she sat. I leaned back against the countertop, draping my arms to each side, admiring my lethal, longhaired beauty.
“I prefer a far higher class of entertainment, merci. More erudite pursuits, one might say,” he replied.
She smiled up at him, the smile as flippant as her tone. “Guess that counts me out.”
For this, at first, his smile merely chilled a wider path across his face.
We had arrived in Phantasm, a sanguinary club deep in the heart of Prague, through a chain of events both lucky and crafted.
Vita, the spy Elise had offered up, had been the first link in our chain. Vita had proven rather ballsy for a human, not to mention hardier than I imagined. It had taken more than I thought most humans capable of enduring, before a single tidbit of useful information spilled forth. Yet unfortunately—for I was enjoying myself at the time—she didn’t prove as hardy as I would have liked.
She expired before I’d captured all the details I was having so much fun chasing.
No matter, this was no matter at all, as upon occasion I can be quite unselfish, and so I did not begrudge Trey his chance at satisfaction, and satisfaction we both did have, for much information did she give Trey.
From the Other Side, that is.
She’d certainly never expected the interrogation would continue beyond death, and she certainly had not imagined what manner of punishment a Death Dancer could deal, particularly when he felt righteously moved.
Of course, she hadn’t known there were such things as Death Dancers either, which, since Travis had first uttered the words, had become our new term for Trey’s persona. In the time since his possession, Trey was beginning to grow into this new skin in the most interesting fashion. I found the title fitting and elegant in its way.
But I digress. I often do so when I am being entertained.
My beloved hunter Travis Starke provided link two. I have often mused that there isn’t a hole in the world in which one could hide that he would not pull one out of, and our next link was pulled out of a hole in Italy, after crossing the border from Nice. Quite literally pulled out of a hole, in fact, as this traitor had need of digging said hole before the sun reduced him to a bubbling slick of entrails, then ashes.
Link three was, admittedly, a stroke of luck, thanks to the faithlessness of link two’s lover. The lover was having an affair with the third link, and so they were kind enough to be in the same location—namely her bed. I wouldn’t have missed his expressions, nor the sounds he made when I crushed him beneath my boot heels, for anything.
I’m more than happy to provide other details later, perhaps, but we should expedite our return to the enthralling sight of Gabriel post haste.
As of now, here I stand, content to watch my Angel of Death conduct his interrogation; one that would, beyond doubt, end quite badly for the third-rate street walker named Phaedra, sitting on a stool in this bar she’d sleazed her way into owning.
“Truly now, your head is not fully vacant. Certainly you have an answer to the question that I have posed, one that might even suit me,” he said.
“What would I know about the blood bags roaming your city, and why should I care about any of them?” she replied, her spine clinging to a straight line. She then laughed. “And why should you care?”
Gabriel’s smile to her was pleasant— dangerously so. The more polite he became, in certain instances, the more life-threatening he was.
A slight flaring of his nostrils accompanied his next words, his calmly spoken words. “They have their uses, as I believe you know – indeed, know very well, and quite recently.” As she offered only a shrug, Gabriel continued. “I have certainly found a use for one such creature even now.”
On cue, her eyes flitted to the door, as also on cue, a mortal stumbled through it, aided greatly by Kar. Swiftly, she looked back to Gabriel, attempting to disguise her reaction.
“Some sport?” Her tongue slid across her front teeth, tasting each one. “If I’d known you were coming and that you were into this kind of thing, I would have made arrangements.”
His bow shaped mouth, which I so coveted, curved ever so slightly. “A faux pas on our part, certainly, but not to worry. I have brought my own rabbit, as you can plainly see.”
Said rabbit could not contain himself and made a desperate move in her direction, for which he found himself in my grip. I smiled sweetly, catching Phaedra’s eyes.
“I might be of a mood to share,” I said, “depending entirely on your next few words, of course.” Her pet’s fear wafted out through his pores and caressed my taste buds, delighting the devil within me.
“Save me a thigh, will you?” she said. “I love tender thigh meat.”
I found the mortal’s cry quite heady, quite pleasing, when fabric and flesh gave way to nails. So pungent the sudden release of blood was, I could trace its descent, taste every particle that paused to cling on the hairs of his leg.
“I don’t know, Phaedra. I grow hungrier by the second, and the only thing better than a perfectly curved breast is a juicy thigh.”
Trey
Germany
“Shit,” I whispered. “This isn’t working.”
“That disc was supposed crack everything.”
“Yeah, I know that; we all know that. Doesn’t change the fact it isn’t working.”
“You need to figure something out; we’ve not much time.”
“Know that, too, thanks.” I waved my hands. “I’ll take a shot at the password myself.”
“Or we do it another night.”
“Fuck that. Tonight’s the night, man.” In my head, I started going over everything I knew about the company and the dude whose computer I was hacking.
Trying to hack.
“By the way, I think you need to fire her software geek,” I said. “Bill Gates he ain’t.”
“I was just thinking that myself, mate. Now get that brain working.”
“I’m on it, I’m on it.”
Fourth attempt, and I was so not on it.
“Of course. There’s nothing remotely predictable about this dude. I can’t figure it out, and I’m gonna trip something here; I just know it. It’s gonna lock me out, and then we’re well and truly fucked.”
Travis was at the door one second, then standing behind me the next. “Let me see.”
I leaned back to give him room. “Computer savvy, are you?”
“I might know a trick or five.” The glow from the computer screen illuminated his grin.
“Yeah? So why don’t you handle software next time?”
“I will.”
And just as easily as he said those words, he had bypassed the security on the computer.
“You cheated. How did you do that?”
All I got for that was another grin. He started heading back to his post. “Copy that shit and let’s get out of here.”
Slipping the USB flash drive in, I set about finding the right files. “On it, on it.”
“Shhh.” He paused. “Our company’s on the second floor.”
“We’re on the seventh, right? Still time, and I can’t make this go any faster, you know.”
He waved a hand at me.
“Maybe if you’d used that trick earlier, we’d be out of here already, Travis.”
“Last resort.”
“Why’s that?”
“Shhh.”
Sure. Fine.
Shhh.
Files. There. Copy.
“Almost there,” I said under my breath, slipping the useless disc into my pocket. “Where are they?”
No response.
“Dude, where are they?” Copy next files.
Silence.
I looked up. Travis wasn’t there.
“Shit. Travis?”
Click, open, copy. Hurry up, damn it.
“Travis…where’d you go?”
How would you say it? Stop tripping, man.
Scowl. (Definitely not a pout.) “I am not tripping.”
Then be quiet.
Well where are you?
Focus on your task.
Grunt.
I grabbed the flash drive, slipped it into my pocket next to the disc, and proceeded to close up everything on the comp, cover my trail.
That done, I got up and headed for the door. I grabbed the doorknob and eased the door open, peeking out into the hall, and as soon as I saw that it was clear, cautiously, quietly, made my way out and started heading for the stairwell down at the end, to the right. Safely there, my feet started carrying me down the first flight.
Second.
Where the fuck is Travis?
Rounding the third, I heard a noise and just stopped myself from saying his name. Might not be him, after all. No, I was sure he wouldn’t be making that much noise while he walked; this operation was all about stealth, for God’s sake.
The door below. Someone was opening the door below.
I turned and flew back up the steps toward the fifth floor exit, thinking Travis, hard. Hearing footfalls on the steps didn’t give me much time to check out the hall before I bounded out and started down it, looking for a place to hide.
Office door, locked.
A few steps more, another door, locked.
“Shit.” So where are you now, bodyguard and accomplice? Making a bloody trail? Is the gig up?
While reaching for the handle of a third door, something reached for me at the same time.
A hand clamped over my mouth, an arm gripped me around the waist, and whoever it was yanked me inside a pitch-black room and shut the door.
Shit.
Fucked. That could be my name right now.
Copyright S. ROIT
For now, enjoy this teaser.
There is a reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand.
Dracula, Bram Stoker, 1897
A smile dark enough to match his eyes formed, showing me two more fangs than I’d known he possessed, making it six. “You desire vengeance. Step aside, and you shall have it; it is a specialty of mine.”
Fixed on those two very long, sharp teeth to the inside of his lengthened canines, it took me a second to register his movement. I pressed my hands to his chest again, for all the good it would do.
“Wait, wait. We have to finish the business, first.”
“Step aside,” he growled, the sound metallic, giving me a hot spinal monkey. “It is past time for him to atone for his sins.”
Yes, yes it is.
But no!
“Aeshma, please, please, wait.”
His eyes bored into mine.
“Listen. Just listen to me, please.” My thoughts ran to a place I didn’t want to drag him. But I had to. It might be my only shot at stopping him.“If you do this now, we fail. I don’t want that. I don’t want to fail Michel.” My back contacted metal again. “Do you want to fail?”
I knew what saying this might do to him, God help me, but I had to appeal to him, and it was true. It was the only reason I could imagine looking at my attacker again—when I was able to look at him—the idea of letting Michel down otherwise.
Travis’ reply sounded like boiling mercury.
“He does not deserve to breathe the same air as you any longer, Death Dancer.”
Pressed, pressed harder into the metal. If the door opened, I’d fall inside, giving me somewhere to go.
But I didn’t want it to open.
“You’re right, Aeshma, he doesn’t.” His fangs, so close to my face that his other features were out of focus. “But we will fail if you do this now. Do you hear me, Travis? Fail.”
The black of his eyes thinned, amber pushing its way through. A minute later metal wasn’t chilling me through my suit any longer.
“Fail…” he said, but there was no rejoicing on my part as I witnessed the softening of his expression.
I still had to be certain the point drove home completely, damn it. There were still black slivers trying to swallow the amber in his eyes.
“Right, an absolute fuck up, Travis. We can’t have that, now can we?”
“No, we can’t have that. I made an oath.”
“Exactly. We’re both loyal to the end. So just a while longer, okay? After we’ve wrapped this up, I can’t stop you, I know that. Just—wait.”
All the blackness in his irises disappeared, and there was the laid back Travis I’d grown accustomed to.
“Will you want to stop me later?” Even his voice had shifted, I realized.
I also realized my inability to say yes to his question.
Hey there. Yup, it’s me again.
You know the drill.
1
September 1
“You are quite close to boring me beyond death,” said Gabriel, his voice dropping another degree, along with the temperature of his gaze.
A wisp of auburn drifted across her cheek with the defiant lift of her chin. “If you want entertainment, you can buy it on the street.”
My dark angel’s smile, frostbitten on its edges, grew a degree as he took a gliding step closer to the barstool on which she sat. I leaned back against the countertop, draping my arms to each side, admiring my lethal, longhaired beauty.
“I prefer a far higher class of entertainment, merci. More erudite pursuits, one might say,” he replied.
She smiled up at him, the smile as flippant as her tone. “Guess that counts me out.”
For this, at first, his smile merely chilled a wider path across his face.
We had arrived in Phantasm, a sanguinary club deep in the heart of Prague, through a chain of events both lucky and crafted.
Vita, the spy Elise had offered up, had been the first link in our chain. Vita had proven rather ballsy for a human, not to mention hardier than I imagined. It had taken more than I thought most humans capable of enduring, before a single tidbit of useful information spilled forth. Yet unfortunately—for I was enjoying myself at the time—she didn’t prove as hardy as I would have liked.
She expired before I’d captured all the details I was having so much fun chasing.
No matter, this was no matter at all, as upon occasion I can be quite unselfish, and so I did not begrudge Trey his chance at satisfaction, and satisfaction we both did have, for much information did she give Trey.
From the Other Side, that is.
She’d certainly never expected the interrogation would continue beyond death, and she certainly had not imagined what manner of punishment a Death Dancer could deal, particularly when he felt righteously moved.
Of course, she hadn’t known there were such things as Death Dancers either, which, since Travis had first uttered the words, had become our new term for Trey’s persona. In the time since his possession, Trey was beginning to grow into this new skin in the most interesting fashion. I found the title fitting and elegant in its way.
But I digress. I often do so when I am being entertained.
My beloved hunter Travis Starke provided link two. I have often mused that there isn’t a hole in the world in which one could hide that he would not pull one out of, and our next link was pulled out of a hole in Italy, after crossing the border from Nice. Quite literally pulled out of a hole, in fact, as this traitor had need of digging said hole before the sun reduced him to a bubbling slick of entrails, then ashes.
Link three was, admittedly, a stroke of luck, thanks to the faithlessness of link two’s lover. The lover was having an affair with the third link, and so they were kind enough to be in the same location—namely her bed. I wouldn’t have missed his expressions, nor the sounds he made when I crushed him beneath my boot heels, for anything.
I’m more than happy to provide other details later, perhaps, but we should expedite our return to the enthralling sight of Gabriel post haste.
As of now, here I stand, content to watch my Angel of Death conduct his interrogation; one that would, beyond doubt, end quite badly for the third-rate street walker named Phaedra, sitting on a stool in this bar she’d sleazed her way into owning.
“Truly now, your head is not fully vacant. Certainly you have an answer to the question that I have posed, one that might even suit me,” he said.
“What would I know about the blood bags roaming your city, and why should I care about any of them?” she replied, her spine clinging to a straight line. She then laughed. “And why should you care?”
Gabriel’s smile to her was pleasant— dangerously so. The more polite he became, in certain instances, the more life-threatening he was.
A slight flaring of his nostrils accompanied his next words, his calmly spoken words. “They have their uses, as I believe you know – indeed, know very well, and quite recently.” As she offered only a shrug, Gabriel continued. “I have certainly found a use for one such creature even now.”
On cue, her eyes flitted to the door, as also on cue, a mortal stumbled through it, aided greatly by Kar. Swiftly, she looked back to Gabriel, attempting to disguise her reaction.
“Some sport?” Her tongue slid across her front teeth, tasting each one. “If I’d known you were coming and that you were into this kind of thing, I would have made arrangements.”
His bow shaped mouth, which I so coveted, curved ever so slightly. “A faux pas on our part, certainly, but not to worry. I have brought my own rabbit, as you can plainly see.”
Said rabbit could not contain himself and made a desperate move in her direction, for which he found himself in my grip. I smiled sweetly, catching Phaedra’s eyes.
“I might be of a mood to share,” I said, “depending entirely on your next few words, of course.” Her pet’s fear wafted out through his pores and caressed my taste buds, delighting the devil within me.
“Save me a thigh, will you?” she said. “I love tender thigh meat.”
I found the mortal’s cry quite heady, quite pleasing, when fabric and flesh gave way to nails. So pungent the sudden release of blood was, I could trace its descent, taste every particle that paused to cling on the hairs of his leg.
“I don’t know, Phaedra. I grow hungrier by the second, and the only thing better than a perfectly curved breast is a juicy thigh.”
Germany
“Shit,” I whispered. “This isn’t working.”
“That disc was supposed crack everything.”
“Yeah, I know that; we all know that. Doesn’t change the fact it isn’t working.”
“You need to figure something out; we’ve not much time.”
“Know that, too, thanks.” I waved my hands. “I’ll take a shot at the password myself.”
“Or we do it another night.”
“Fuck that. Tonight’s the night, man.” In my head, I started going over everything I knew about the company and the dude whose computer I was hacking.
Trying to hack.
“By the way, I think you need to fire her software geek,” I said. “Bill Gates he ain’t.”
“I was just thinking that myself, mate. Now get that brain working.”
“I’m on it, I’m on it.”
Fourth attempt, and I was so not on it.
“Of course. There’s nothing remotely predictable about this dude. I can’t figure it out, and I’m gonna trip something here; I just know it. It’s gonna lock me out, and then we’re well and truly fucked.”
Travis was at the door one second, then standing behind me the next. “Let me see.”
I leaned back to give him room. “Computer savvy, are you?”
“I might know a trick or five.” The glow from the computer screen illuminated his grin.
“Yeah? So why don’t you handle software next time?”
“I will.”
And just as easily as he said those words, he had bypassed the security on the computer.
“You cheated. How did you do that?”
All I got for that was another grin. He started heading back to his post. “Copy that shit and let’s get out of here.”
Slipping the USB flash drive in, I set about finding the right files. “On it, on it.”
“Shhh.” He paused. “Our company’s on the second floor.”
“We’re on the seventh, right? Still time, and I can’t make this go any faster, you know.”
He waved a hand at me.
“Maybe if you’d used that trick earlier, we’d be out of here already, Travis.”
“Last resort.”
“Why’s that?”
“Shhh.”
Sure. Fine.
Shhh.
Files. There. Copy.
“Almost there,” I said under my breath, slipping the useless disc into my pocket. “Where are they?”
No response.
“Dude, where are they?” Copy next files.
Silence.
I looked up. Travis wasn’t there.
“Shit. Travis?”
Click, open, copy. Hurry up, damn it.
“Travis…where’d you go?”
How would you say it? Stop tripping, man.
Scowl. (Definitely not a pout.) “I am not tripping.”
Then be quiet.
Well where are you?
Focus on your task.
Grunt.
I grabbed the flash drive, slipped it into my pocket next to the disc, and proceeded to close up everything on the comp, cover my trail.
That done, I got up and headed for the door. I grabbed the doorknob and eased the door open, peeking out into the hall, and as soon as I saw that it was clear, cautiously, quietly, made my way out and started heading for the stairwell down at the end, to the right. Safely there, my feet started carrying me down the first flight.
Second.
Where the fuck is Travis?
Rounding the third, I heard a noise and just stopped myself from saying his name. Might not be him, after all. No, I was sure he wouldn’t be making that much noise while he walked; this operation was all about stealth, for God’s sake.
The door below. Someone was opening the door below.
I turned and flew back up the steps toward the fifth floor exit, thinking Travis, hard. Hearing footfalls on the steps didn’t give me much time to check out the hall before I bounded out and started down it, looking for a place to hide.
Office door, locked.
A few steps more, another door, locked.
“Shit.” So where are you now, bodyguard and accomplice? Making a bloody trail? Is the gig up?
While reaching for the handle of a third door, something reached for me at the same time.
A hand clamped over my mouth, an arm gripped me around the waist, and whoever it was yanked me inside a pitch-black room and shut the door.
Shit.
Fucked. That could be my name right now.
Copyright S. ROIT
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Paris Immortal: Atonement...teaser
Michel
Madrid
Kar approached the conspicuously armed man by the gate, who asked him in Spanish who he thought he was and what he thought he was doing here—though he did not ask so politely. Kar then stopped less than a meter from the guard and trained an even gaze on him, for which the guard drew his darkly gleaming weapon, once again asking his question whilst aiming the gun at my escort.
“I suggest you put that away before someone gets hurt,” I said as I moved forward, Kar stepping to the side to allow me a face-to-face view of the gun wielding man.
My words had flowed in perfect Spanish, but he opted to reply in English. “Who the fuck are you?”
“What will you give me if I tell you?” I became aware of the arching of my lips.
“Maybe some of this.” He shoved his weapon in my direction.
“Tsk. I’m disappointed. This isn’t what I had in mind at all, darling.”
“What do you think you’re playing at, mister? Do you know where you are? Whose place this is?”
“I’m quite aware, but thank you for reminding me. Do you have any other redundant questions for me, sweetheart?” I offered a coquettish bat of my lashes.
“I should shoot you right now,” he directed his aim closer to my chest, “cabrón.”
With a lift of brow I said, “Shoot me or kiss me, the result will be the same, I assure you.” I graced him with a very wide smile.
“You’re loco, mister.” He laughed, though not with humor, as his eyes flitted over my companions, no doubt wondering if we were armed and considering his options.
He did not pull the trigger, but with his other hand he reached for one of those wireless devices Trey called walkie-talkies.
“Don’t do that,” I said. “I’ve not finished with you yet, and it would be a shame to bother the others just now.”
He leveled the gun’s barrel in the direction of my heart, slowly lifting the walkie-talkie towards his face, his eyes once again moving betwixt the three of us.
“You don’t wish to do that,” I said, exuding a bit of ‘charm’.
His hand paused in its movement, the fine muscles quivering, begging to deny my suggestion.
“Now, be a good boy and put it away.”
His hand obeyed, clipping the walkie-talkie back onto his belt.
“Thank you ever so much.” My eyes assessed his form. “Pity, however, that you don’t have manners on your own.”
He could only gaze at me stupidly.
“Mm. You’ve already bored me,” I said, releasing him. “We’re going inside, but not to worry, I’ll announce myself soon enough.”
I stepped around him, reaching for the gate. I began to open the latch, and in the space of what was a blink to me, he squeezed the trigger—and found that I’d placed my palm against the barrel just as he fired.
“How rude,” I commented with a lift of my hand, and then smiled—impishly no doubt—for the bafflement in his eyes as he watched the wound knit itself. “Hmm, such things do still sting, you realize, though certainly I am capable of finding pleasure in pain.” After a pursing of my lips, I added, “Are you?”
He was about to make a stunned second attempt when I captured his gaze and looked deeply into his eyes, mesmerizing him more strongly than before.
“Stop. You’ve moved past boring to irritating, young man. This is not wise.”
His hand froze and his eyes glazed.
“You are most assuredly threatening the wrong person.”
My puppet echoed me. “I’m threatening the wrong person.”
“Do you know who this,” I tapped a nail against the blue steel, “should be pointing at?”
“Who?”
“You. You should be aiming this gun at yourself.”
“At myself…” His elbow bent and his hand turned.
“Simon says a bit higher, darling.”
“Higher…”
My tongue darted out to wet my lips. “Mmm, and in the interest of getting it right the first time, place the barrel to your temple, s’il vous plaît.”
He placed it to his temple.
A smile discovered me. “Very good, poppet, very, very good. Living is hard, don’t you think? Dying,” my index nail learned the line of his jaw just below his ear, “is so much easier.”
In his glassy eyes, there was yet a deeper understanding. Devil that I am, I’d left him just enough wits that he knew what was happening—and that he could do nothing to stop it.
“Now…” I moved back a step.
My puppet’s next breath was a shuddering one.
“Bang.”
His brains painted the white stucco surrounding the dark door various shades of red, pink, grey and others not defined, his body jerking sideways and dropping to the ground whilst I admired the artistry of his skull matter.
“Gracias. I have now been properly announced.” I spared Kar a glance. “I didn’t like this one’s tone.”
“He was rather crass.”
“Terribly uncultured. Common thugs bore me, you?”
“Yes my Prince, they do.”
“I don’t believe we need to ask Gabriel his opinion.” I looked to him and he merely smiled at me.
“Ah, here they come,” I said, turning toward the tall door that split the stucco, which was now opening. The first of them already had his weapon drawn, which I grabbed, pinning his fingers to it beneath mine in a bruising embrace. “Do it and I shall consume your intestines from your warm body as I would a large bowl of spaghetti, all whilst you watch.”
Madrid
Kar approached the conspicuously armed man by the gate, who asked him in Spanish who he thought he was and what he thought he was doing here—though he did not ask so politely. Kar then stopped less than a meter from the guard and trained an even gaze on him, for which the guard drew his darkly gleaming weapon, once again asking his question whilst aiming the gun at my escort.
“I suggest you put that away before someone gets hurt,” I said as I moved forward, Kar stepping to the side to allow me a face-to-face view of the gun wielding man.
My words had flowed in perfect Spanish, but he opted to reply in English. “Who the fuck are you?”
“What will you give me if I tell you?” I became aware of the arching of my lips.
“Maybe some of this.” He shoved his weapon in my direction.
“Tsk. I’m disappointed. This isn’t what I had in mind at all, darling.”
“What do you think you’re playing at, mister? Do you know where you are? Whose place this is?”
“I’m quite aware, but thank you for reminding me. Do you have any other redundant questions for me, sweetheart?” I offered a coquettish bat of my lashes.
“I should shoot you right now,” he directed his aim closer to my chest, “cabrón.”
With a lift of brow I said, “Shoot me or kiss me, the result will be the same, I assure you.” I graced him with a very wide smile.
“You’re loco, mister.” He laughed, though not with humor, as his eyes flitted over my companions, no doubt wondering if we were armed and considering his options.
He did not pull the trigger, but with his other hand he reached for one of those wireless devices Trey called walkie-talkies.
“Don’t do that,” I said. “I’ve not finished with you yet, and it would be a shame to bother the others just now.”
He leveled the gun’s barrel in the direction of my heart, slowly lifting the walkie-talkie towards his face, his eyes once again moving betwixt the three of us.
“You don’t wish to do that,” I said, exuding a bit of ‘charm’.
His hand paused in its movement, the fine muscles quivering, begging to deny my suggestion.
“Now, be a good boy and put it away.”
His hand obeyed, clipping the walkie-talkie back onto his belt.
“Thank you ever so much.” My eyes assessed his form. “Pity, however, that you don’t have manners on your own.”
He could only gaze at me stupidly.
“Mm. You’ve already bored me,” I said, releasing him. “We’re going inside, but not to worry, I’ll announce myself soon enough.”
I stepped around him, reaching for the gate. I began to open the latch, and in the space of what was a blink to me, he squeezed the trigger—and found that I’d placed my palm against the barrel just as he fired.
“How rude,” I commented with a lift of my hand, and then smiled—impishly no doubt—for the bafflement in his eyes as he watched the wound knit itself. “Hmm, such things do still sting, you realize, though certainly I am capable of finding pleasure in pain.” After a pursing of my lips, I added, “Are you?”
He was about to make a stunned second attempt when I captured his gaze and looked deeply into his eyes, mesmerizing him more strongly than before.
“Stop. You’ve moved past boring to irritating, young man. This is not wise.”
His hand froze and his eyes glazed.
“You are most assuredly threatening the wrong person.”
My puppet echoed me. “I’m threatening the wrong person.”
“Do you know who this,” I tapped a nail against the blue steel, “should be pointing at?”
“Who?”
“You. You should be aiming this gun at yourself.”
“At myself…” His elbow bent and his hand turned.
“Simon says a bit higher, darling.”
“Higher…”
My tongue darted out to wet my lips. “Mmm, and in the interest of getting it right the first time, place the barrel to your temple, s’il vous plaît.”
He placed it to his temple.
A smile discovered me. “Very good, poppet, very, very good. Living is hard, don’t you think? Dying,” my index nail learned the line of his jaw just below his ear, “is so much easier.”
In his glassy eyes, there was yet a deeper understanding. Devil that I am, I’d left him just enough wits that he knew what was happening—and that he could do nothing to stop it.
“Now…” I moved back a step.
My puppet’s next breath was a shuddering one.
“Bang.”
His brains painted the white stucco surrounding the dark door various shades of red, pink, grey and others not defined, his body jerking sideways and dropping to the ground whilst I admired the artistry of his skull matter.
“Gracias. I have now been properly announced.” I spared Kar a glance. “I didn’t like this one’s tone.”
“He was rather crass.”
“Terribly uncultured. Common thugs bore me, you?”
“Yes my Prince, they do.”
“I don’t believe we need to ask Gabriel his opinion.” I looked to him and he merely smiled at me.
“Ah, here they come,” I said, turning toward the tall door that split the stucco, which was now opening. The first of them already had his weapon drawn, which I grabbed, pinning his fingers to it beneath mine in a bruising embrace. “Do it and I shall consume your intestines from your warm body as I would a large bowl of spaghetti, all whilst you watch.”
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Good vibrations
Hey there hi there ho there.
First in today's update:
My publisher, Snowbooks, has started an online magazine called White Magazine. It's still very new, but they plan to update weekly, hopefully. I've submitted the two 'essays' Michel did (vampires in cinema), so far. We'll see when/if those show up. There will be other stuff from Snowbooks authors each update!
Second in today's update:
Atonement around 67,000 words at this very moment. After a spate of just not quite feeling like it, I've had a little run this evening, inching closer and closer to the oh my god shit is hitting the fan big time moments. That should be fun. :P
Third thing is something I'd like to call coolest thing that happened last week. One of my regular clients informed me that he has a bazillion frequent flier miles, because he is always travelling for business. He actually said he'd get me a ticket to France when I can go. Now...this still leaves me needing some savings and money to spend there (yeah, no time soon) but him offering was just too cool.
One day...
That's about all I have for today. I am drinking some red wine and eating chocolate chip cookies, making the most of this evening since I go back to work tomorrow. Er. Today, I guess.
P.S.
Who else is watching TRUE BLOOD?
This season is gonna be off the hook!
First in today's update:
My publisher, Snowbooks, has started an online magazine called White Magazine. It's still very new, but they plan to update weekly, hopefully. I've submitted the two 'essays' Michel did (vampires in cinema), so far. We'll see when/if those show up. There will be other stuff from Snowbooks authors each update!
Second in today's update:
Atonement around 67,000 words at this very moment. After a spate of just not quite feeling like it, I've had a little run this evening, inching closer and closer to the oh my god shit is hitting the fan big time moments. That should be fun. :P
Third thing is something I'd like to call coolest thing that happened last week. One of my regular clients informed me that he has a bazillion frequent flier miles, because he is always travelling for business. He actually said he'd get me a ticket to France when I can go. Now...this still leaves me needing some savings and money to spend there (yeah, no time soon) but him offering was just too cool.
One day...
That's about all I have for today. I am drinking some red wine and eating chocolate chip cookies, making the most of this evening since I go back to work tomorrow. Er. Today, I guess.
P.S.
Who else is watching TRUE BLOOD?
This season is gonna be off the hook!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Hey, ya'll. Sorry it's been a while. There's been a lot changing for me, things going on.
In short:
I'm getting a divorce. Don't worry, no need to offer sympathy, it's all very amicable and it's the right thing to do. But as you can imagine, this creates a lot of the aforementioned changes.
I'm moving into my own apartment next week and this means more than ever, assessing my finances.
I'm moving forward in other ways I won't expand upon just now, but they're good, trust me.
All this means I haven't written a lot, but I'm slowly getting back into it and Paris Immortal: Atonement is brushing 56,000 words. The other project has been sitting patiently on the side at about 23,000 words for a while now, but I have faith I'll finish it later.
That's about the extent of my update, other than to say, for these and various reasons, I've not been online as much, either. But I'm keeping up with you all as best I can.
In short:
I'm getting a divorce. Don't worry, no need to offer sympathy, it's all very amicable and it's the right thing to do. But as you can imagine, this creates a lot of the aforementioned changes.
I'm moving into my own apartment next week and this means more than ever, assessing my finances.
I'm moving forward in other ways I won't expand upon just now, but they're good, trust me.
All this means I haven't written a lot, but I'm slowly getting back into it and Paris Immortal: Atonement is brushing 56,000 words. The other project has been sitting patiently on the side at about 23,000 words for a while now, but I have faith I'll finish it later.
That's about the extent of my update, other than to say, for these and various reasons, I've not been online as much, either. But I'm keeping up with you all as best I can.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Amazon review
Small spoiler, perhaps, if you haven't read the others—or the third one, yet.
Eagerly awaiting book 4, 13 April 2009 By paranormal noakes (UK) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Paris Immortal: Absolutions (Paperback)
Absolutions is the 3rd book in the ever attractive Paris Immortal series. To be honest I'm shocked to find a bad review even exists about it - I suppose the stories are not everyone's cup of tea (or glass or blood) but I can unequivocally say that Sherry Roit has made this the finest parnomal romance/horror/drama that I have ever read.
Her first-person POV writing style is engaging, and gives a lot of insight into the character and personality of whomever is thinking at the time. I find that it endears you to the characters (almost all of which you can genuinely feel for - with the notable exception of P.K, who's character has not yet been delved into in depth) very quickly.
This is obviously just my own opinion, but I very find it very easy to emote with the characters of Paris Immortal - particularly Trey - and I can honestly say that this book had me in tears: Not once but at least 5 times! I found it impossible not to get swept up in Trey's viewpoint in certain of the scenes, as his terror, loss, and even shock come across so beautifully with the writing style.
The little details that the characters notice help to give you a mental picture of almost every scene, bringing you closer to the the author's impression of what's going on - something that I find is missing from a lot of novels. The majority of the time with a book, your visual idea of the characters or surroundings turns out to be vastly different from someone elses, and the full moment that the author was trying to capture is lost. Hopefully that is not the case here.
For those that crave non-stop action and heat this is probably not your kind of series. There are indeed moments of pure violent or sexual tension, but the rollercoaster here is purely emotional. The focus is squarely on the characters themselves and their struggles to cope with the horrors in their own past. If, like me, you enjoy a book that gets you under the skin of the people involved, and leaves you not waiting for the nice explosion but rather rooting for the characters to survive the tortures within their own minds, then this is the book for you. Don't fret though horror-hounds: People still get eviserated. *winks*
The sexual tension runs tantilisingly high through Paris Immortal and Paris Immortal Awakenings, but in Absolutions finally emerges into a couple of very nicely handled sex scenes that you find you've been almost as desperate to see realised as the characters involved! I can't fault the writing there either - It likely won't appeal to those who prefer the intimate detail of other fine authors such as J.R Ward, but the subtlety in itself keeps the moments tender and allies this firmly with the 'romance' part of 'paranormal romance.' For someone that has read and enjoyed a lot of arguably 'hotter' books, this approach was a welcome change. After the initial sexual output in this 3rd book you will find that the sexual tension all but vanishes, but you are left with a more than adequate impression of the love felt by the parties involved throughout the rest of the book: Again, something that can too often be sacrificed by other authors so they can fit in a couple more bestselling sizzling chapters.
If you're potentially baulking at reading these books for fear of reading something that you'd consider TMI in the way of homosexual passion: don't. Read the books. Even if you're one of those people who finds homoeroticism a little twitchy in book, I doubt that you'll be offended. Hopefully you'll simply be left touched by the aforementioned love between the main characters. On the other hand, if homoeroticism in your book choice really isn't something that you feel comfortable with, avoid Paris Immortal like the plague as virtually all of the characters are either gay or bi.
Last but certainly not least, the desciptions of Paris itself are superb. With every book and every chapter the author takes you on a tour of the sights and streets, and you are left marvelling at the wonders, beauty, and history of this most famous of cities. If it does wonders for Parisian tourism, I wouldn't be surprised.
Overall, I thoroughly recommend this series to anyone who's looking to try something new in the way of paranormal romance. Any book that by turns makes me cry (and feel genuine heartache for a fictional character), laugh out loud, grin, and sit rivetted to my seat turning pages to find out what happens, I certainly consider worth the read.
Not to mention a gloriously unassuming and elegant cover design, that will sit with pride on any shelf.
I hope you enjoy them as much as I.
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