Weekend Writing Warriors ~ Good-bye Earth

January 25, 2015 by Alexis Duran

Hello and welcome to another episode of Weekend Writing Warriors. I’m up to my eyeballs in edits, so I’ll cut to the chase and tell you that I’m continuing with my space opera in progress, From Mars, With Love. I’ve jumped ahead a bit. Eli has yet to come up with a plan to escape from a ship in space, so he has some time to reflect.

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Eli had harbored a deep and stupid desire to be a pilot ever since he’d first seen a Lunar Freighter launch out of Manhattan Harbor. The sight had made him aware of the limitless possibilities of space half a second before he realized a dump rat like himself had zero chance of making it onto the crew of a space ship, much less piloting one. He found it grimly amusing that his one shot at traveling beyond Earth came from being slave fodder.

Space travel turned out to be less enjoyable than he’d imagined. As soon as the shuttle docked the Cruiser dropped away from the gravity well of the huge sweeping vessel and they freefell into clear space. His stomach tried to crawl out of his ears and his blood didn’t know which way to flow. Then the thrusters kicked in and they got pressed down like grass under a boot and off they went into pre-sling launch mode. Eli said a mental goodbye to his mate Rilke and wondered if he’d ever see him or Earth again.

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So I’d thought I’d change things up and post a photo of guy with sword instead of a pew-pew gun. Flash!

This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors. Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from a published work or perhaps 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 use the address: http://www.wewriwa.com

Weekend Writing Warriors- Hair-Brained Schemes

January 18, 2015 by Alexis Duran

Welcome to another round of Weekend Writing Warriors– the hop where awesome, fearless writers take on the world of their imaginations, eight lines at a time. I’m going to keep going with my Space Opera in-progress, From Mars, With Love for a few more weeks. Last week Eli decided being a sex slave (or any kind of slave, for that matter) wasn’t on his bucket list, so he desperately started thinking on how to escape the transfer shuttle. One of his fellow abductees in an altered human called a Moon Unit in Earth slang.

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The Moon Unit glared at Eli with an almost imperceptible shake of her head and looked away. Did she know what he was thinking? One could never be sure with Altereds how empathic or telepathic they might be.

Moon Units were the oldest of the Altereds, their mutations dating back to the earliest colonization of Earth’s Moon, when budgets and technology were strained. The Lunar Laborers were engineered to fit into compact tunnels, their skin smooth and plasticized to protect them from harsh environmental conditions. They evolved to be strong, dense and flexible, taking advantage of the scant gravity while not being susceptible to bone loss. Despite her apparent hostility Eli tried to take a seat beside her on the long metal bench that lined the shuttle but a dumb-bot guard grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, shoved him into a seat and drew down a locking bar as if they were going for a ride on a roller coaster.

Everybody got locked down the same way and Eli had more time to fume and plot then he would’ve liked – hair-brained schemes suffered from overthinking.

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Hot guys with pew-pew guns, a glimpse of silver bikini in the background- is it any wonder my imagination is so warped? (Chekov was my favorite).

My Sexy Saturday ~ Evil Elf Visits Starbucks

January 17, 2015 by Alexis Duran

Welcome to another sizzling episode of My Sexy Saturday. The theme this week is “I’m so sexy”, in which we get to introduce those characters who are hot, hot, hot and probably know it. My sexy character, Zeke the elf with evil intentions, definitely knows it. I’m sharing seven paragraphs from my contemporary m/m fantasy, Dark Heart. Not yet published but hopefully (fingers crossed) soon to see the light of day.

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The door opened, a gust of wet wind blew in, and time stopped. Ezekiel stood in front of the door as it closed. He’d changed his clothes. He wore jeans and a close-fitting black leather jacket. Unlike the musketeer coat, it showed off his slim waist as well as his broad shoulders. His black silk shirt was open at the neck. Sunglasses hid the magical eyes, but there was no mistaking the evil elf.

He scanned the shop a bit then walked straight for Ian’s table. He stopped so close Ian could smell the salt air and deep woods piney scent wafting off his skin, like he’d taken a bath in the ocean and toweled off with cedar bark. His hair looked shorter, or more styled, with the bangs hitting the high line of his cheekbone, the back brushing the collar of his jacket.

“Good afternoon. Mind if join you?” he asked in soft, melodious voice.

“Yes, I do. Go away.” Ian looked around. Everyone else was oblivious to the dark elf in their midst. They tapped on phones, stared at computers, rustled papers. Dijeree and the barista laughed. Ezekiel sat down directly across from Ian. He pushed his glasses back into his hair, unveiling the eyes.

“Why do you resist me, Ian?” he said. He grabbed one of Ian’s hands from the table before Ian could snatch it away.

“Because I . . . you . . . you want to kill me.”

The elf laughed. It was a warm, friendly sound. His eyes gleamed under the fluorescent lights and shifted colors – blue, grey, silver. He turned Ian’s hand over, smoothed out the clenched fingers and ran a finger along his palm. “I do not want to kill you. I want to take you away from this ordinary, depleted life. I want to make love to you. I want to fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”

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Time for another play date with the writers of My Sexy Saturday. Wether you’re a reader, writer or both, there’s plenty of steamy fun to be had by clicking the link and checking out the amazing selection of excerpts. Writers of sizzling hot fiction will share either 7 words, 7 lines or 7 paragraphs from one of their works.

Weekend Writing Warriors~ Moon Unit

January 11, 2015 by Alexis Duran

Hello and welcome to another round of Weekend Writing Warriors. I’m continuing with my Space Opera in progress, From Mars, With Love. It’s such a kick to write, all fiction should be this much fun. Last week poor Eli was separated from his pal Rilke after they’d both gotten nabbed by slavers. Eli’s not taking the unfortunate career change well.

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Anger rose in Eli’s throat like bile. Too bad it was way too late to complain to his congressman about the crass slaving violations of the sweepers. A feeling of deep-seated rebellion swelled in his bones. He set his jaw and considered escape. Escaping in deep space was useless so if he were going to do something, he’d have to do it fast. He examined his fellow future sex slaves for likely compatriots in a reckless and doomed attempt to scuttle the shuttle. An obsidian-skinned Moon Unit by his side looked too fast to be true and he thought she’d make an excellent recruit for any plot. He stared at her until eye contact was made.

Anyone else have a crush on Buck Rogers/Gil Gerard back in the day?

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If you’re cruising for bigger bites of fiction or you’re suffering from a post-Christmas funk, I’ve posted two holiday stories on this blog; The Wrong Elf Flash Version and The Longest Night featuring Axel and Liam from To Catch A Threeve. Enjoy!

My Sexy Saturday ~ Resolutions

January 10, 2015 by Alexis Duran

Happy Saturday! It’s been a while since I’ve participated in the My Sexy Saturday blog hop, so it’s appropriate I’m coming back for the Resolutions themed hop. One of my many resolutions is to share, play and participate more with all the lovely readers and writers online.

My seven paragraphs this week are from an untitled story in my long-planned, yet to be written Recovery Romance series. There’s a resolution that needs to be made, but has Damien hit his bottom yet?

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Damien hoped to hell Mason wouldn’t be home when he crept guilt-ridden into their apartment. Give him time to shower at least, burn the clothes, come up with some excuse…no, there was no point in stories any more. Like a politician wracking up blowjobs from interns, it was better to come clean than lie.

He pushed away from the brick wall and continued up the slope. His debauched adventure had ended on the unfashionable side of Capitol Hill. He lived on Queen Anne and had a long slog home. He hoped Seattle’s salty breeze would clear his head and blow away some of the strange man funk that clung to him like sticky cobwebs. That was the worse thing. It didn’t mean anything of course, this forgotten sex, but now he’d have to get checked again for STDs and Mason would give him that contemptuous, holier than thou attitude for weeks and…shit.

Sunday. Mason was due back last Friday night. Damien had even planned a nice dinner to kick off their epic three-weeks-apart fucking reunion. He wasn’t much of a cook but he could do spaghetti sauce. He’d bought fresh tomatoes, garlic, the works.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He pushed his fingers into his hair and muttered under his breath, well aware of people stepping to the far side of the sidewalk to avoid him. Little dogs barked angrily as he lurched past.

This was bad. Mason had arrived from Paris Friday night to an empty apartment. He’d waited, worried, freaked out. He had two full days to get into a complete froth. Damien’s head hurt thinking about it. His feet hurt because he hadn’t been able to find his socks and his sneakers chafed his heels after the first mile of his walk of shame.

Maybe, maybe it was time to admit he had a problem. For real. Maybe he should go straight to an AA meeting instead of home to face his lover’s pain. Anything, even walking over hot coals or listening to old bums pontificate about their higher power sounded better than watching Mason’s heart break again, see the suffering cloud his beautiful eyes and know it was entirely due to Damien’s lack of control.

But no way was Damien going anywhere looking and smelling like he did. The one time he’d gone to AA to get Mason off his back, he’d been well turned out and had looked down on all the mangy losers assembled in the basement of the sad Baptist church. Now the losers would be looking down on him, thanking their higher power they’d never fallen as low as he obviously had. No. He’d just have to convince Mason he was too sick and damaged to fight. Put off the confrontation, think of some way to make up. He had to. Without Mason, he wouldn’t survive.

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Weekend Writing Warriors ~ From Mars, With Love

January 4, 2015 by Alexis Duran

New year, new story. Well, new to Weekend Writing Warriors, anyway. This crazy, free-wheeling Space Opera is next on my To Finish and Submit list. The snippet is from Chapter Two, after Eli and his pal Rilke have been most inconveniently snatched by slave sweepers while scavenging in Old York.

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From Mars, With Love

Eli maintained his cool through the whole abducted, locked in a giant dustbin, hurled into space thing until the sex swappers arrived on the scene and he got yanked out of line. Watching Rilke dissolve into a puddle of tears broke Eli’s heart, which wasn’t an easy thing to do after the life he’d led. For the first time his survival instincts failed him and he made a futile attempt to wriggle out of a slaver’s metal grasp, if only to say a proper good-bye. This earned him a sharp jab with some sort of stun gun and he made the rest of the trip to the transfer shuttle in a numbed-out, wobbly state.

By the time the doors of the holding pen hissed shut behind them, he’d regained his right mind and returned his thoughts to practical matters, because getting sold into an unlicensed spaceport sex market was just about the unhealthiest thing that could befall a person. He figured his luck was spent and he’d better start getting resourceful fast. Without his other half, the super smart half-Martian Rilke, he’d be flying on one wing and knew it. Through a narrow viewing portal he watched the huge sweeper recede into the distance and his mood blackened.

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Because I can, that’s why.

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If you’re cruising for bigger bites of fiction, I’ve posted two holiday stories on this blog; The Wrong Elf Flash Version and The Longest Night featuring Axel and Liam from To Catch A Threeve. Enjoy!

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