Author Archive : Ally Blue

The Doctor

By Ally.Blue on August 4, 2011

The hubby, the girl-child and I have been on a bit of a Dr. Who kick lately. We've been watching the DVDs of new series, Drs nine and ten so she can catch up since she came in with doctor eleven, Matt "bowties are cool" Smith. I LOOOOOVE Dr. Who. IMO that's one of the consistently best-written shows on television, especially with all the story arcs that span months and months of series and involve all sorts of subtle things that don't exactly jump out at you. Besides that, the characters — at least the good guys, and sometimes even the villains — are well rounded and come across as very real.

So, a couple of questions for y'all. Okay, more than a couple. Just a few though, and just because I'm curious. Are you a fan of the Doctor? Which Doctor's your favorite? Myself, I'm torn between ten (David Tennent) and eleven (Matt Smith). And I'm including the original series doctors here. I've never watched the original series, but I feel that I should…

Anyway, back to the questioning. Favorite companion? Amy Pond and Rory for me. Both of them LOL. Favorite, well, other character who hangs around with the Doctor from time to time and helps save the universe? As much as I adore Captain Jack Harkness — and I do, he is a fabulous character, not to mention impossibly gorgeous — I have to say River Song. I have a total girl-crush on her. I want to be her when I grow up. Favorite villain? There are some OMG AMAZING villains on this show (except the Daleks, who I find more amusing than scary most of the time and whose voices annoy me; sorry!!) but the Weeping Angels from "Blink" and subsequent episodes are, to me, the scariest. They taught me how to blink with one eye at a time LOL.

All right all you Dr. Who fans, step up! Who's your favorite Doctor? Companion? Other companion? Villain? Anything else you want to say? Let's talk about Dr. Who! Y'all have at it, I'll stop in between the Evil Day Job and going to see my daughter in Annie tonight :)

 

Ally Blue

www.allyblue.com

www.twitter.com/PopessAllyBlue

 Shenandoah, book 2 of my Mother Earth series, is now out in yummy trade paperback. I have molested my copies already, and believe me, you want one. I mean, look at it! Rawr.

Read on for the blurb and a delightful excerpt of angstiness :D

Click here for purchase information. Read chapter one on my website.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

© Copyright 2011 Ally Blue

 

The weakness he fears could be his lover’s only hope.

(Mother Earth, book 2)

Bear has never regretted leaving his old life behind for his exotically beautiful lover, Dragon. Following his heart, though, has left them in need of a home. There’s only one place he can think of where they can be together and be happy. Shenandoah. A place of myth—until he encounters signs that it’s a real place that lies somewhere to the north.

Dragon doesn’t share his lover’s faith that it even exists, much less that it will live up to Bear’s high expectations. Yet they are Brothers now, bound by love and so much more. No hardship will keep Dragon from Bear’s side. Even if it means nothing but disappointment waits at the end of their journey.

Danger lurks in the wilderness, the ruined cities of the lost Old World, and especially within themselves. As Bear’s quest for a new home becomes a spirit journey of mystical power, Dragon doubts his own strength—an unbearable shame he tries to hide deep within. But when a chance encounter turns into a fight for survival, Bear’s life depends on Dragon’s ability to put his doubts aside…and dare to hope.

(Warning: This book contains knife fights, cannibals, mysterious ruins, and dirty sex between warrior men)

********

 

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Bunny, Bunny

By Ally.Blue on March 11, 2011

 Plot bunnies, that is. Plot bunnies are nibbling my braaaaain! 

I have a fair few furry little monsters hopping around my head at the moment. One is inspired by the TV show An Idiot Abroad, on the Science Channel (I know, odd channel for a travel show, right?). Karl Pilkington is absolutely hysterical, more so because he has no clue how clueless — or how funny — he is. Typical quote, from his trip to Egypt in which he had to ride a camel: "Why is it the Ship of the Desert? Don't make sense; there are no ships to be had in the desert. Why not just say the Canoe of the Garden or the Surfboard of the Alley?" Heh. Does anyone else watch that show? I love it. Anyway, since I've been watching that I have a bunny involving a curmudgeon and world travel. I think that would be fun!

I have other bunnies competing for brain space as well. Like the romance involving a bartender (or possibly casino worker) in nursing school falling in love with an Elvis impersonator. And the mystery/romance centering around those weird starfish symbols all over Hilton Head Island. They all look exactly alike! It's not normal!

Actually I'm thinking of turning that one into a horror novel. What do you think? Would you guys be interested in a horror/mystery with a plot involving mysterious starfish symbols in some capacity? Not that I've figured out exactly how that's going to work or anything, but I think it could be pretty cool :)

 

Ally

www.allyblue.com

www.fictionwithfriction.com

www.twitter.com/PopessAllyBlue

The NaNo Commitment

By Ally.Blue on October 14, 2010

So, it’s almost that time of year. November. National Novel Writing Month. The time when the determined and well-organized writers — new and seasoned, published and not — out there buckle down and crank out fifty thousand words in a month. Me, I’m the least organized person on the planet, which is probably why I have yet to ever manage the 50K word count it takes to “win” at NaNoWriMo.

Maybe it’s crazy, but once again, I’m thinking of joining the November NaNo madness. I don’t know, something tells me I’ll feel compelled to keep trying it until one of these days I actually conquer the challenge :) I still haven’t decided for sure, but I bet I torture myself with it again. LOL. What about you guys? Are any of y’all doing NaNo this year? What do you plan to write about? If I do it, I’ll be working on the 3rd book in the Mother Earth series (book 2, Shenandoah, just came out at the end of August). I have the basic plot, I just need to start writing. I’d love to hear about what everyone else has planned for NaNo :D

Ally
www.allyblue.com
www.fictionwithfriction.com
www.twitter.com/PopessAllyBlue

That is, it’s out in print now :) Woo-hoo! I think Kanaxa’s cover is especially suited to touching inappropriately. Heh. Here’s the blurb, and an excerpt to whet your appetite. Enjoy!

© Copyright 2010 Ally Blue
Buy the book (and read a different excerpt) here.

Truth. Lies. A century-old mystery. What a tangled web…

(A Bay City Paranormal Investigations story)

At age eleven, Adrian Broussard accidentally used his mind to open a portal to another dimension. Now, ten years later, he’s successfully harnessed his strong psychokinetic abilities. In the process, he’s learned the lessons which have become the guiding principles of his life. Absolute truth. Absolute control. Always.

Sticking to his personal code of ethics has never been a problem, until two chance meetings—one with a hundred-year-old ghost, one with a handsome, very-much-alive man—turn his orderly existence upside down.

Having grown up in a family of paranormal investigators, Adrian is intrigued by the spirit of Lyndon Groome and determined to solve the mystery of his death. Greg Woodhall, however, affects Adrian in unpredictable ways. Not only does his every touch challenge Adrian’s hard-won control over his abilities, his company quickly becomes a light in Adrian’s lonely life.

As the mystery surrounding Lyndon’s death turns sinister, Adrian’s relationship with Greg deepens into something serious. Something Adrian wants to keep. But intimacy isn’t as easy as honesty, and when the heart’s involved, the line between right and wrong can blur.

(Warning: This book contains a gory ghost, a haunted castle, nerdy college parties and gay sex enhanced by psychic powers.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adrian arrived at Groome Castle before anyone else on Friday afternoon. With a thought, he turned the front door lock, went inside and headed straight for the tower room.

The place felt empty. He sat with his back against the wall to clear his mind and try to call Lyndon to him.

He knew he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. If anyone had asked why he’d felt the need to come up here and seek out Lyndon, he wasn’t sure he could’ve given a reason. All he knew was he’d woken with the burning need to tell someone all about the best night of his life, right down to the last delicious detail, and the only person he felt that comfortable with—other than the subject of his rhapsodizing—was the man whose spirit haunted this room.

Adrian drew a slow, deep breath and blew it out. As his body relaxed, he allowed his mind to open. “Lyndon? Are you here?”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a tingle of energy raised the hairs on the back of Adrian’s neck. Warmth washed through him, the air around him swirled and Lyndon’s bloody form wavered into existence. The big, translucent eyes stared right at him, making him feel like he’d been pinned to the wall.

He smiled. “How do you do that? You’re a ghost, I don’t even know how aware of me you are, but it feels like you’re poking through my brain with a stick.”

Lyndon’s mouth opened. Adrian sat forward, doing his best to stay relaxed and breathe normally.

The pale lips formed a single syllable. Adrian couldn’t make it out, nor could he hear Lyndon’s intent in his mind.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me. Can you try again?”

If a ghost could have sighed, Adrian figured that’s what he would have heard at that moment. Lyndon floated toward the southeast window and hung there, his form now so insubstantial Adrian could barely see it. An aching sadness weighed on Lyndon’s energy, so that Adrian felt his own shoulders bowing under it.

I guess maybe now’s not the time to tell him about Greg. Adrian let out a quiet laugh. As if it wasn’t pathetic enough that he’d come up here to gush to a ghost about his hot date in the first place, now the ghost didn’t seem to be in the mood to listen.

Planting his palm on the floor, Adrian pushed to his feet. He walked over to the window where Lyndon’s barely visible outline hovered, leaned against the sill and peered out. A stretch of scruffy grass sloped away from the castle’s outside wall toward the forest about thirty or forty yards away. Through the trees, he could just make out the nearby park. If he opened the window, he’d probably be able to hear the laughter of the neighborhood kids playing. He wondered if any of the children who surely snuck onto the castle grounds from time to time ever looked up here and saw Lyndon gazing down at them.

Adrian glanced at his watch and groaned. The cast and crew would begin arriving soon to prepare for opening night of the haunted house. He had about five minutes to get out of the castle and far enough away that no one would suspect him of breaking and entering.

Most likely no one would care. They might not even notice. After all, the three or four sets of keys changed hands often enough that the group sometimes had trouble keeping track of who had them on any given day. But the last thing Adrian wanted to do was draw attention to his abilities, so avoiding the possibility of discovery altogether seemed the best course of action.

He pushed away from the windowsill. “I need to go, Lyndon. I’ll come see you again soon, okay?”

The silence in his head remained unbroken. Feeling unaccountably discouraged, Adrian cut himself off from the waning flow of Lyndon’s energy and headed for the stairs.

The haunted house is going to end in a couple of weeks, he reminded himself as he descended the steps. There won’t be any reason to come back here after that. What if you haven’t learned anything by then?

Adrian stopped, one foot on the step behind him and a hand splayed flat on the stone wall. He pictured Lyndon’s sorrowful specter in his mind and knew he wouldn’t stop pursuing the truth just because he no longer had a legitimate reason to be here. Locked doors couldn’t keep him out. He would have to be careful, that’s all. He could do that.

And to think, not so long ago you swore you’d never come up here again. He let out a soft laugh. Funny how a taste of an old mystery could change his mind so completely.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Adrian took the narrow footpath winding through the woods behind the castle to the small neighborhood park a few minutes’ walk away. With a quick glance around to make sure no one saw him, he climbed a short flight of wooden steps onto the sidewalk and started along the main road back toward Groome Castle. Marisa’s brand-new electric SUV passed him on the way. She stuck an arm out the window and waved. He waved back, smiling.

When he entered the castle again, several of the tech crew and actors had arrived and were helping Marisa set up. Adrian looked around, heart thumping. Just when he thought Greg hadn’t gotten there yet, the man himself rounded the corner from the main hall. Their gazes locked, and Adrian’s knees nearly buckled.

Greg’s face lit up. He strode across the floor toward Adrian, grinning ear to ear. “Hi, Adrian.”

“Hi.” Adrian mirrored Greg’s smile. Just the sight of him made Adrian’s stomach flutter. “You ready for tonight?”

“Looking forward to it.” Greg wound his arms around Adrian’s neck and molded his body to Adrian’s. “I missed you.”

Before Adrian could process what was happening, Greg leaned in and kissed him. Adrian’s psychokinesis flared in response.

Behind Adrian, the front door squeaked open and banged shut. “Hey, get a room!” a male voice bellowed.

Adrian broke the kiss, shooting a look at the boy who’d just entered. “Um. Not here, okay?”

Surprise and a bit of hurt shone in Greg’s eyes for a moment before his usual teasing smile hid them. “Sure. Sorry.” He dropped his arms and stepped back. “I should go start getting ready anyhow.”

Adrian grabbed Greg’s hand before he could go anywhere. “Wait.”

Greg’s eyebrows went up. He glanced at Adrian’s hand clutching his. “What?”

What, indeed? Adrian had no idea. He only knew that he longed to kiss Greg again, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it right here where anyone might walk in and see. It made him feel like a sideshow exhibit.

What they needed was privacy. Turning his hand in Greg’s, Adrian laced their fingers together and led Greg through the foyer toward the hallway to the bedrooms. He managed to avoid looking at any of the people they passed on the way.

Not that it mattered. After the show he and Greg had put on in the foyer, anyone who’d seen them knew where they were going and why. In fact, the couple of students who’d witnessed that kiss probably thought Adrian and Greg were finding a nice, quiet place to have sex. Adrian winced at the thought. God, if his cheeks turned any redder his face might burst into flame.

He didn’t turn back, though. His entire body ached with a desire stronger than any he’d ever felt, and he intended to slake what he could of it now. If a kiss was all he could allow himself yet, then that’s what he’d take. So far he’d found kissing Greg orders of magnitude more exciting than even the best sex with Christian, so the prospect was hardly a disappointment.

As they passed the bathroom, Greg yanked Adrian inside and kicked the door shut behind him. Adrian didn’t even bother to argue with his choice of private space. Dropping Greg’s hand, Adrian slid one arm around Greg’s waist, fisted the other hand in his hair and let Greg pick up where they’d left off. Greg’s head tilted, his mouth opened wide and his tongue twined with Adrian’s. He grabbed Adrian’s ass in both hands and thrust his hips forward, and Adrian felt Greg’s hardness push against his own.

The other night, I was on my laptop, just like I am during the majority of my waking hours. I was posting a blog. And my laptop, Admiral Crunchbyte, started acting very strange. Highlighting text when he wasn’t supposed to, cursor jumping around, stuff like that. So I took him in to our local Mac repair shop. Turns out it’s a swelling battery pack (wth?? o_O ) pressing on the underside of the trackpad and screwing it up. I’m getting him back tomorrow with a new battery and new trackpad. But that’s not the point of this blog. Here’s the point.

I am way too attached to my electronics.

While the Admiral’s been off getting doctored up, I’ve been writing/emailing/Tweeting/surfing/etc on the family backup laptop, Oswald. I check my email and any blogs I’m following any time I have a couple of minutes during my Evil Day Job. I swear I get withdrawal symptoms when our internet goes out at home (as it frequently does; I haaaate our ISP).

I think I’m probably not alone in my electronics/internet addiction. An I right? Do you guys spend as much time online and on your gadgets as I do? And please tell me my friends and I aren’t the only ones who name our laptops O_O

Speaking of which, I’d love to hear what you call your laptop/desktop/iPod/whatever. Hint, hint :D

Ally Blue

ADDER in print

By Ally.Blue on February 21, 2010

I’m very excited to have my novel Adder now available in good old-fashioned strokable print! Yay! I have already molested my copies :D Pick up your own to touch inappropriately — or just read, if you want — today! If you’re not sure, read on for the blurb and a PG-13 excerpt. Or, you can go straight to my website for a not-at-all-PG-13 excerpt. Heh. Enjoy!

Music. Sex. Fame. What’s missing? Surely not the “L” word…

Adder has a plan for his life: play his music for millions of adoring fans, who will reward him with money, fame and as much sex as he can handle. It’s a goal he’s been working toward since his teens and is on the cusp of achieving. The idea of a relationship never entered his mind—until a new drummer joins his band. One taste of Kalil, and all he wants is more.

For Kalil, playing drums for Adder is a dream come true, the creative connection he’s always wanted. What he never reckoned on is the deeper connection he finds with Adder. Kalil would rather avoid sexual involvement with a bandmate, but Adder seems just as determined to break through his resistance.

Attraction aside, music and sex are about the only things the hedonistic Adder and the increasingly jealous Kalil can agree on. Still, before they know it they’re on the brink of something deeper, something lasting.

And it scares the hell out of both of them.

(Warning: This book contains adult language, hot gay sex, weird bands, colorful prophylactics and unforgivable fashion crimes)

**~*~*~*~*~
© Copyright 2010 Ally Blue
Buy the book

The gig at The Wedge surpassed Adder’s wildest dreams. Kalil’s energetic and inventive drum work added a richness which Adder hadn’t even known had been missing from their music until now. The audience screamed twice as loud as usual and refused to let them go without two encores, which just proved that Adder’s instincts were correct. Kalil was the perfect addition to their group. He was one of the best, most dedicated musicians Adder had ever known. Which was saying a great deal, considering how picky Adder was in who he considered to be a good musician.

Of course, from an audience-drawing perspective, it didn’t hurt that the man was also a walking wet dream. Olive skin, big dark eyes, black hair that fell in a halo of wild waves around an androgynous face which wouldn’t have been out of place on a Botticelli angel.

There was nothing androgynous about Kalil’s body, though. Just one glimpse of those well-toned arms and that muscular back running with sweat was enough to make Adder’s prick harden. He’d always had a weakness for a drummer’s physique. Especially drummers who put everything they had into their jobs the way Kalil did.

Perched on a barstool at The Wedge after the lingering would-be groupies had been shooed away, Adder sipped his Kir Royale and watched Kalil take down his drum kit. He disassembled each piece with the same care he’d used to put it together, every movement precise and careful. Adder couldn’t help wondering if he touched his lovers with such reverence.

Probably not. Adder chuckled under his breath, amused with himself in spite of the sexual frustration caused by Kalil’s unwavering refusal to fuck him. He had to admire a man who could make him wish to be a drum.

Harpo wandered out of the cramped hallway leading to the restrooms and plopped onto the barstool beside Adder. “This was a fucking epic show.” He leaned his elbows on the bar behind him and flashed Adder a wide grin. “Man, we totally got it right hiring Kalil, huh?”

“Oh yes.” Adder caught Kalil’s eye and flicked his tongue out at him. Kalil scowled and turned back to his precious drums. “Gods, what I wouldn’t give to get that man between my legs.”

“You’re a slut,” Harpo told him, though there was no real heat in the accusation. He scratched his bare chest. “Seriously, Adder. He’s fantastic live. The girls love him.”

It was true. Once they’d introduced their new drummer to the tight-packed crowd, every wispy little Goth girl in the place seemed to osmose to the front row to worship Kalil in their near-silent, disturbingly intense way.

Adder had been a bit disconcerted by that at first. After all, he was the name and face of this band. All that attention should be his. Then he’d remembered that no matter how much those girls lusted after him, Kalil was not ever going to sleep with them, and he’d felt better. Plus the fanboys still seemed to focus mostly on Adder, which went a long way toward soothing his bruised ego.

Maybe he and Kalil could have a threesome with one of the more attractive young men. I wouldn’t mind sharing with him, Adder thought in a burst of magnanimous impulse. Especially if he would fuck me.

The mental image of himself impaled on Kalil’s prick while sucking some faceless pretty boy’s cock was a very nice one. Adder hummed into his glass.

A hard nudge from Harpo nearly knocked Adder off his barstool. He shot a frosty glare at Harpo, who just smirked. “Adder. Would you please stop trying to get K into bed? You’re gonna drive him away.”

Adder shook his head. “No. He wants me.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But he’s not into fucking his bandmates.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Harpo let out an exasperated sigh. “C’mon, man. Don’t you get enough ass already? Why do you have to go chasing after Kalil?”

Why, indeed? Adder had no answer for that question. There was no lack of men and women willing to fuck him. Hell, there’d been at least five girls and three guys in the first row tonight who would’ve gladly shared his bed for a few hours. A couple of them had been every bit as physically attractive as Kalil. But he’d ignored their transparent offers of no-strings sex in favor of a chance to be around Kalil for a while longer, a decision which he knew damn well would result in him jerking off in the shower later. So why had he done it? He had no clue, and that irked him beyond belief.

On stage, Kalil straightened up, linked his hands above his head and stretched. Adder stared, mesmerized by the damp skin of his naked chest and the tantalizing glimpse of sharp hipbones peeking above the waistband of his well-worn jeans. Gods, the man was a human kebab of ripe, tasty maleness. Adder sipped his drink, imagining the tang of Kalil’s sweat on his tongue.

Beside him, Harpo dropped his head into his hands and groaned. “Jesus, Adder. Could you at least try not to look like you’re about to jump him any second?”

“I’m a passionate person. I can’t help that.” Adder waited until Kalil glanced his way, then licked the rim of his glass in a way that left no doubt as to what he’d rather be licking. Kalil went crimson and turned away, giving Adder a stunning view of his ass encased in body-hugging denim. “Besides, I do believe he enjoys my attentions.”

“It makes him uncomfortable, asshole.”

“Uncomfortable in an ‘I have a hard-on that needs Adder’s mouth immediately’ way, perhaps.”

Harpo sighed. “Adder, I swear to God if you fuck this up for us—”

“I will not fuck this up.” Adder tore his gaze away from the object of his thus-far unrequited lust to aim a pointed look at Harpo. “This band is always first with me. You should know that by now.”

“I know. It’s just that sometimes I think you let your need to be loved cloud your judgment.”

Adder’s mouth fell open in shock. “Do not say the ‘L’ word to me,” he sputtered when he thought he could talk again. “You know I don’t believe in that.”

“Yeah, that’s what you keep telling me.” Harpo stared at him, dark eyes searching. “Look, man, you’re my friend. I care about you, and I’d like to see you happy. Just don’t look for that inside the band, okay? It never ends well. For the band, or anyone else.”

Stunned by his friend’s unprecedented speech, Adder could only stare in frustrating, humiliating silence. He didn’t know which was worse—the fact that Harpo thought Adder was actually looking for love, or that he clearly believed Adder wasn’t capable of it. Of course he could love someone, if he chose. He just didn’t want to.

By the time he collected himself enough to come up with a scathing answer, Sheila had detached herself from Vi and was teetering across the floor toward them on her ridiculous three-inch heels. He forced his face to obey his will and gave her a beaming smile. “Sheila, my love! How did you like the show tonight?”

“It was good. Kalil rocks.” She hooked her arm around Harpo’s shoulders, leaned close and kissed him. “Can we go to my place tonight, babe? I’d like to be alone for a change.” She shot a barbed glare at Adder, who fluttered his eyelashes at her.

Harpo studied Adder’s face for several unnerving seconds, then nodded. “Okay, sure. Adder, you’ll make sure Vi gets home okay, right? She rode with me.”

“Of course I will. You kids go on, and have a good time.” Adder winked at Sheila. “I’ll miss you in Harpo’s bed tonight, Sheila darling.”

“Pig,” Sheila muttered. She grabbed Harpo’s arm so hard her hot pink nails dug into his skin. “Come on, Harmon. We’re out of here.”

Adder snickered. Harpo dealt a stinging blow to his shoulder before jumping off the barstool. “See you tomorrow, Adder.”

“Until then.” Adder waved at the retreating pair. He thought he could hear Harpo growling that he didn’t care if Harmon was his real name, he hated when Sheila called him that.

Chuckling, Adder drained the last of his drink, set the glass on the bar and hopped to his feet. He glanced around. Vi and one of the Wedge staff—Susan? Sarah? Something with an “S”—stood huddled together in the corner of the club near the front door, evidently discussing something of vital importance. Another staff member whistled an off-key tune while he mopped beer and assorted other substances off the floor. Kalil zipped his favorite drumsticks into their special pouch, set it carefully on top of the bass drum and walked offstage.

Adder followed without hesitation. He could always pretend he’d been innocently heading for the men’s to take a piss.

When he reached the dressing room, Kalil was already bent over the sofa. Adder stared in pleased surprise. Then he realized Kalil wasn’t offering him a fuck, he was searching for something in the cushions. Undeterred in spite of his disappointment, Adder wandered over and perched on the sofa’s arm. “Hi, Special K.”

Kalil shot him the fiery glare that always made his blood sing. “Will you please stop calling me that?”

“What are you looking for?” Adder inquired, ignoring Kalil’s request since he had no intention of honoring it.

“I had twenty dollars in my pocket when we got here, and now I can’t find it.” With a deep sigh, Kalil straightened up and ran both hands through his dripping hair. “Hell, maybe I just thought I had it. Maybe I left it at home.”

“That’s possible. Haven’t we all done things like that sometimes?” Adder watched a drop of sweat wind its way between Kalil’s pecs and down the middle of his abdomen. “Gods, I really want to lick you all over right now.”

Kalil scowled. “Quit it, Adder.”

Adder grinned. Kalil turned away, but not fast enough. The flush in his cheeks and the sudden swell in the front of his jeans just confirmed what Adder already knew. Kalil wanted him. Badly.

Considering that the feeling was mutual, Adder saw no reason not to act on it. They were alone for a change, and he’d behaved for so long already. He stood, grabbed Kalil’s arm, whirled him around and pulled him close with an arm around his waist.

It was intoxicating, feeling Kalil’s body pressed tight against his. Kalil’s bare chest was warm and damp, his brown eyes wide with shock and a need he couldn’t disguise. Adder leaned close and drew a deep breath. The scent of sweat and desire flooded his brain. Unable to stop himself—not that he would have tried in any case—he slid a hand into Kalil’s hair, tilted his face up and kissed him.

I’m one of those authors who needs music in order to really get in the writing groove. Whenever I start a new book, I put together a new iTunes playlist to go along with it. Then every time I sit down to work on the book, I turn off email, put on my headphones and let my playlist put me back into my dreamed-up world.

Here’s the thing. Right now, I’m working on Shenandoah, follow-up to my short story Dragon’s Kiss and second book in the Mother Earth series. I have a playlist, and some of the songs are great, but a lot of them just aren’t working for me. A lot of my iTunes library just doesn’t seem to fit with the post-climate-change, primitive world of my fictional future.

Patrick Wolf and certain Sigur Rós tunes work well. Especially Sigur Rós, since all their songs are in Icelandic so I don’t get distracted by listening to the lyrics. Heh. Some particular faves: Patrick Wolf’s “Thickets” and “Tristan”, Sigur Rós’s “Glosoli” and “Olsen Olsen”, Karen O and the Kids “Hideaway” from the soundtrack to Where The Wild Things Are. But I need more! Help? I’m looking for songs with a certain type of “feel” to them — earthy and primitive, or alternately something with an airy, ethereal quality. Any suggestions?

Thanks in advance for helping a poor author finish her book! Happy New Year to one and all :D

An Inner Darkness

By Ally.Blue on August 23, 2009

An Inner Darkness, book five in my Bay City Paranormal Investigations series, is now available in print. Yay! Read on for the blurb plus links to clean and not-at-all-clean excerpts :D

All hell’s about to break loose. Literally.

After more than a year as a couple—and plenty of bumps along the road—Sam Raintree and Dr. Bo Broussard are finally settling into life together. Bo has come to terms with his sexuality, their business is thriving, and Sam has begun to accept his role as a step-parent of sorts to Bo’s sons, Sean and Adrian. The only real dark spot is Bo’s ex-wife, Janine.

When eleven-year-old Adrian begins exhibiting signs of psychokinesis—the same ability which allows Sam to manipulate interdimensional portals—the friction between Sam, Bo and Janine escalates. Sam and Bo have reason to believe Adrian’s raw, uncontrolled talent poses a danger to him and those around him. Janine, however, believes Sam and Bo are encouraging dangerous delusions on Adrian’s part. Common ground is nonexistent, anger and hard words ever-present.

Caught in the middle of the conflict and burdened with an ability he can’t yet control, Adrian is soon pushed beyond his limits. With Adrian’s mind—and the lives of everyone around him—hanging in the balance, Sam and Bo race against time to save both boys and keep an otherworldly horror from breaking free.

(Warning: This book contains graphic language, explicit male/male sex, family drama and scary monsters.)

You can read a spooky PG-13 excerpt on the Samhain website..

Or, you can hop on over to my website and read an XXX-cerpt of mansex and angst,, oh yeah.

Or, hey, why not read both? Spookiness, sexiness and angst all in one morning, what a great idea!

And after you’ve read the awesome excerpts, go to the Samhain website to buy the book :)

Last week, I was listening to NPR (National Public Radio) Morning Edition on the way to work, as I generally do. Lots of world news, lots of interesting things you don’t normally hear from most other news sources. I like it. Usually. On that day, however, they had a bit on the tail end of the business news that darn near ruined my day.

It was a bit about Harlequin’s 60th birthday. When I heard that, I got all excited. “Cool!” I thought. “Romance is on NPR!” I thought that was pretty sweet. Until they started talking, and what I got was what everybody else on the planet seems to give the romance genre: scornful snickering. The dreaded term “bodice ripper.” What a disapointment, NPR.

It wasn’t what was said so much as how they said it. Derision and “wow I can’t believe people READ this stuff” amusement dripping from their voices. It made me ANGRY, I tell you. Check out the NPR website to read the transcript of the story and listen for yourself. It’s very short, so it won’t take but a minute.

I shouldn’t be surprised at this point that so many people still believe romance to be beneath them, but I constantly am. And for Morning Edition — a morning-drive friend to me for years — to throw this at me, feels personal. Why, Linda and Steve? Why’d you do it? Our relationship will never be the same.