Weekend Writing Warriors #18

June 29, 2014 by Alexis Duran

Greetings everyone. It’s good to be back. I was in the San Juan Islands last week and missed a Sunday. Can’t wait to catch up on all the fabulous stories unfolding over at the WWW Hop. Due to awesome timing on my part, I was out of town when my book launch occurred, so my self-promotion has been spotty. So, did you hear? Touch of Salar is now available at a fine ebook vendor near you!

On to the snippet! I’m now posting from my recently finished erotic fantasy, To Catch a Threeve, which is sitting in my editor’s submission pile, so I get to chew my nails over this one for several more weeks.

To Catch a Threeve (We last left Constable Axel Blackwood in the forest, aware that he is being stalked by an unknown presence)

Mint and meadow larkspur, a combination often used by hunters to disguise their presence from animals, stood out against the usual smells of the deep forest, alerting Axel to the nearness of the interloper.

Whoever tracked Axel was good. The only reason the constable had noticed he was being followed was thanks to a protective spell he’d learned from the old witch Talesin. A web of magical energy alerted him when the same presence passed through it more than once. This particular, non-animal presence had crossed the web five times since last night. Tonight was the first time Axel had detected him with his ordinary human senses. He suspected his stalker was getting desperate. Tomorrow, Axel and Drummond would reach the fortress of Lord Thorburn and the opportunity for mischief would be lost.

***

This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors. Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress. Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both. It’s a great way to discover your next favorite book. Click here or copy & paste this address: http://www.wewriwa.com

Weekend Writing Warriors #17 + Cover Reveal!

June 15, 2014 by Alexis Duran

Hello Warriors, Writers, Readers and Random Internet Browsers!

I’m super excited today because I now have the cover for Touch of Salar. Bask in the wonderfulness over there in the sidebar. The cover artist is Fiona Jayde and I think she did a fabulous job of capturing the mood and creating a striking image. (That model is pretty damn cute, I must say). To celebrate I’m sharing another snippet from Touch, this time from the point of view of The Major.

Touch of Salar

Major Jamil Jarka left the temple in a bit of a daze and walked into the heavily floral air of the surrounding gardens. He’d gone into the healing room that morning expecting nothing more than a simple massage accompanied by incense, chants, and more of the mystical folderol these monks excelled in.

He’d barely noted the young monk assigned to him for this stage of his treatment, who was allegedly one of the most gifted at Ka’alar. Jamil had already forgotten his name, but not the intense pleasure nor the pain inflicted. He’d doubted a monk’s touch could do much for him, but he was willing to try anything that would get him cleared for duty. He itched to put his skills to use in the fight against the growing southern rebellion that threatened the survival of Rakkan.

When the monk had begun his work, Jamil was surprised by the power and firmness of the fingers. The shadowy person he’d glimpsed hadn’t radiated strength, only that same damnable calmness and inscrutability required of monks everywhere.

***

In a world ruled by tyrannical kings and fickle gods, the young monk M’lan finds himself at the center of royal intrigue as his healing powers attract the attention of his superiors. When he learns the handsome warrior whose body he’s tending to is not only a noble, but a king’s assassin, any attachment to him might prove fatal. Despite the danger, he can’t stop himself from falling in love. Can he risk the abandon of passion when a slip of the tongue might force his lover to execute him?

Major Jamil Jarka comes to the temple with one intention—heal his wounds so he can return to the fight against the rebellion. When the monk assigned to him turns out to be stunningly attractive, he sees this as a pleasant distraction, no more. But soon he finds himself becoming obsessed with M’lan and is torn between the fear of betrayal and the lure of love.

Sinister forces strive to turn the monk and the warrior against each other—a conflict neither will survive if they cannot trust their lives to love and the healing power of Salar.

****

Weekend Writing Warriors #16

June 8, 2014 by Alexis Duran

Greetings Warriors, Writers and Readers. I’m continuing on from last week with a selection from my recently completed WIP (yeah!). To Catch a Threeve is an erotic m/m fantasy.

To Catch a Threeve

Axel rested one forearm on the pommel, closed his eyes and listened as old Talesin had taught him. Only a few moments passed before the forest creatures adjusted to his presence. A nighthawk shrieked, four-footed scavengers rustled in the low growing shrubs and night feeding swallows cut and darted in the air above him.

I know you’re still there, he thought, and sank deeper into his listening trance. Axel’s deputy, Drummond Alloway, had fallen behind at the last creek crossing, partly because his mount was not as sure of foot as Axel’s, but also because Axel wanted this time alone and had hurried his pace. Drummond’s horse now pounded along the road in the distance.

The far off creek burbled, its mineral scent rising beneath the pungent bite of ironwood pitch and moldering oak leaves. With his senses sharpened, Axel smelled his stalker before he heard him.

***

Weekend Writing Warriors #15

June 1, 2014 by Alexis Duran

And now for something completely different. In celebration of completing my current WIP, I’ve decided to post a few snippets from the first chapter. To Catch A Threeve is high fantasy, with swords, castles, witches, hunky constables, sexy thieves, and oh, yeah, threeves. Stay tuned to find out what the heck a threeve is.

To Catch a Threeve

As the crescent moon sank behind the jagged line of the Lacknor Mountains, shadows merged in the depth of the forest, smothering the last of the light. An oppressive stillness was disturbed only by the thud of hooves on a narrow dirt road. That too ended when the rider reined in his horse and waited, chin lowered to chest.

The man formed a silhouette against the shadows, draped in a black cloak and mounted on a black horse. His boots and hair were also black and his sword sheathed in black leather. If any dared draw close enough, they’d see eyes the shade of storm clouds and a gaze that pierced the dark with an uncanny light.

Constable Axel Blackwood barely breathed as he listened for signs of his stalker. Except for the heavy panting of his horse, the creak of his leather saddle and his own heartbeat, nothing out of place disturbed the quiet.

***

Weekend Writing Warriors #13

May 18, 2014 by Alexis Duran

Hi! If you’re participating in the Hop Against Homophobia and Transphobia, please scroll down to the next post to find my HAHAT post and leave a comment for a chance to win a prize! I haven’t quite figured out yet how to update my linky-thingy on the website to go directly to the post.

Okay, back to the snippet! Greetings Weekend Writing Warriors! My, I’m using a lot of exclamation points today! Maybe it’s because I’ve finally reached the point where M’lan gets to interact with the major. Be still my heart. (creative punctuation alert)

Touch of Salar

The major crossed the tiled floor without a sound and stepped up to the table. From behind him, M’lan watched the silk robe slide from wide shoulders and drop to the floor before he raised his eyes, ready to assess what he saw.

His breath caught. Even though he was used to seeing well-sculpted, muscular bodies, this one was exceptional. Faint scars crisscrossed the truly beautiful almond skin but were hidden among the swirls and tangled vines of an elaborate tattoo that climbed from the crease beneath the man’s left buttock to the base of his neck. His torso tapered from the broad shoulders to a slim waist, the arms and legs were lean yet muscular, and the buttocks tight and hard. He had glossy black hair that flashed red in the sunlight. M’lan glimpsed a fine high cheekbone, sculpted jawline, and aquiline nose– a true son of Rakkan.

***

About Touch of Salar, soon to be released by Loose Id.

Touch of Salar is a high fantasy, m/m erotic romance. In the kingdom of Rakkan, in a culture ruled by gods, mystical orders and magic, a young monk with the ability to channel the healing powers of the god Salar falls in love with a wounded warrior he knows only as The Major. Relations between the classes are forbidden, and things become even more complicated when the monk discovers that the man he is obsessed with is a king’s assassin. If M’lan is found out, he will be put to death, possibly by the Major himself.

Weekend Writing Warriors #12

May 11, 2014 by Alexis Duran

Do all writers love the rain? I do. The constant patter of sloppy drops on the window, the chilly gusts rattling the blossoms off the trees, gives me permission to ignore the weeds, the foot high grass, the drooping limbs in need of trim, to hole up with a cup of tea and write, write, write. If you’re a writer who loves the rain, nothing beats Oregon in the springtime! Back to the snippet–at last, the warrior arrives, M’lan’s ultimate challenge. Here’s a little eye candy to wet your whistle.

Touch of Salar

Cobwebs clearing from his mind, M’lan hurried to wipe down the soft-padded table in the middle of the room with essential oils and snapped out a fresh cloth to smooth on top of it. Today he was to begin the healing process on a new patient. For the sake of secrecy and discretion, patients were referred to by title. Today’s client, if spoken to, was to be addressed as Major. He was male, twenty-eight passages of age, and had been in the intensive-care ward of the temple for three weeks.

The entry chimes sounded, and M’lan bowed his head, as was custom when nobility entered. The patient wore a black silk robe, head covered with a hood. He moved with an easy grace and a lightness of foot, unlike most of the warriors M’lan worked on, who tended to be heavyset and muscle-bound.