From my friends, MASTER OF SURRENDER, was chosen as Romance Novel TV’s Best Historical for 2008!  I’m honored to be nominated and to win.  Thank you, everyone who voted!

Karin*

I always do this time of year.  In fact, despite the cold, the wet, and the feeling exhausted from the rush of the holidays, this time of year, just after celebrating Christmas, and right before the New Year takes off, I feel a sense of hope and excitement. And a profound sense of accomplishment.

I like to take this time to look behind me and see how far I’ve come.  I’m always amazed.

In 2008 I wrote three and a half single titles.  I had five releases! I sold two more historicals. I won Pro Mentor of the year. I was the San Francisco Area RWA Chapter president for the second year in a row, and VP of Programs for the Black Diamonds RWA Chapter.  I judged several contests, went to National, and several writer’s retreats.  I blogged faithfully every other Monday at The Fog City Divas, every Friday over at Murder She Writes, here whenever the hell I felt like it, and guest blogged all over the cybersphere. I pimped myself like Huggy Bear. I launched another (the 4^th!) First Line Contest. JADED was nominated for the Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award.  MASTER OF SURRENDER was nominated for Best Historical over at Night Owl Reviews, and at Romance Novel TV, which by the way, voting is open until the 28^th.

I entered several of my books in the RITAs, and volunteered to judge this year.

On the home front, I managed to get my last kid graduated from high school.  He’s now in college and while it’s just a JC, for now, he’s doing a good job and is where he needs to be.  Tabke # 2 married a great guy in October.  I survived the year of preparation and the economic destruction that followed.  And while I was not as involved as I should have been, my business is still chugging along, despite this economy to which it is so strongly tied. I survived Tabke #2 and her husband living with us since February, (and don’t tell them this, but I’m going to cry like a baby when they move out.  I love having them here!) I survived a frustrating football season for hubby.  Not only the Raiders but the college where he coaches. I have so far survived Baby, the psycho kitten.  While the house hasn’t always glistened and glowed as I would prefer it to, I’m ok that sometimes the dust bunnies look more like tumbleweeds then what they really are. 

But despite all of the above, and it’s all very good, the best part of 2008 has been my family and friendships. A lot of stuff has been put in perfect perspective for me this year.  I told the kids right before the wedding when there was lots of drama going on that a person’s true character would rise to the top amidst this, oh, so emotional and special time. And when it does, those who love you most will show their true colors.  And it was bittersweet in some ways, but a lesson well learned, not only by the children but by my husband and I. And because of it all, my life is so much simpler, but far richer then ever before. I like where I am, where I’m going, but mostly those who are close around me.  I feel very much at peace.  If I could change some things, would I?  No, because the things I would change are things I can’t change.  It’s taken me decades to figure that out.  I can only be held accountable for my actions.  No one else’s. Same with the crazy business of publishing.  I can control the book.  That’s it.  I can’t control the economy, what the buying trends are, or if a book store goes out of business.  Only the book.  So going into 2009, I’m going to keep reminding myself, I cannot control anything except what I think, feel and do.  Period.

I want to take this opportunity to say, thank you, to everyone who has supported me and my books this year.  To my old true blue friends who have let me whine and moan and groan when I had no right to. To my new friends who have made me laugh and smile. To my family for putting up with my hellish deadline schedule, allowing me to do what I love so much to do. To my editor for pushing me to the brink of some really good writing!  To my agent for her belief in me as a writer. To all of you who come by and visit, thank you!  I do so enjoy the conversation. And while this may sound sappy to some, I want to thank God for his love.

I truly feel blessed and fortunate knowing I am surrounded by such goodness and light.

Happy New Year, Everyone!

Karin*

Merry Christmas!

May your reason for the season be filled with joy, love, and laughter!

I’ll see y’all back here Friday!

Karin*

Okay, folks here are the 60 lines that made it this far!  You have until midnight Friday January 2^nd to post these two lines plus a third.  We’ll scale down to six culled entries a week from here on out!   Good Luck! 

1. “Who—What—oh God!” Susan shouted, bolting up in bed. “Why are you here?”

2. I hissed when I saw it, my gut coiling, hide crawling in alarm. Skin, damn it, not hide; I hadn’t transformed yet.

3.  “Zeus has summoned you.”
With a growl, Markus rolled over on the giant four poster bed and scowled at Octavious, who stood at the entrance to his chambers, arms crossed over his chest like the arrogant bastard he was.

4. The piercing pain in her chest grew worse, but she couldn’t stop running. A flash of lightning split the darkness once again, temporarily blinding her as thunder roared in her ears and her racing heart felt as if it would burst.

5. The warmth of the desert vanished under a shroud of bone-chilling twilight. And Jackson Neale, cautious now after four bloody years of war, slipped deeper into its murky, concealing cloak.

6. Megan Trent jerked out of a deep sleep at the sound of her clock radio turning on and off by itself in a rapid beat of white noise and eerie silence. She watched as the red display numbers flickered in and out with a frantic Morse code lightshow.

7. The mansion loomed eerily through the swirling mist, a sinister shadow against the backdrop of a storm darkened sky.
Destiny Ryder hunched over the steering wheel and stared through the car window in awe even as apprehension skittered down her spine.

8. Mardi Gras was in full celebration in New Orleans, but Alexander Xavier Montclair, one of the most eligible bachelors in the Queen City social circles, and by far the most handsome, found himself in very cold, very wintery, Charleston on a business trip. Standing six-foot-four, he was tall for a Creole, and his lean, muscular frame gained the respect of most whom he met.

9. It came to Nick Holloway, gradually, that he was lying on cold, hard concrete. Something above held him fast.

10. Thick clouds of steam puffed out of manhole covers and sewer grates, making it extra hard for Henry to see while driving in the dark. The radio sputtered and he reached outside the cab’s window to give the bulky antenna another twist.

11. She was going to die.
What cruel twist of irony would take her life at the hands of the very people she’d tried to save?

12. I squeezed the trigger, the noise of the gun deafening in the confined space of the elevator. My legs trembled as I made my way over to where he lay, sprawled on the parking garage floor.

13. The best thing about being an heiress – the low expectations. Dad still ran the company, and the stockholders would freak if she even started to show an interest.

14. Lacey knew the moment she opened her eyes that something was wrong. The fact that the sun was coming through a window where there should not have been a window, was her first clue, the black cotton sheets covering her naked body was the second.

15. Even two hundred yards away in near-whiteout conditions, Locklen Roane saw the red Accord careening too fast down Highway 145. Had to be a tourist—who else would risk driving in this blizzard?

16. It was feeding time and humans were the only thing on the menu. Krystoff’s acute vision took in the deep crimson that covered the gray cracked sidewalk, the smell of blood thick on the air.

17. I wobbled into my apartment, legs wide, as if I’d spent the last seven hours on a horse. Instead, I’d suffered through the inhumane treatment masochistic women endured—a Brazilian wax.

18. Cold trembling fingers reached out to trace the letters engraved on the headstone, the chilly marble slab the only tangible link to the family Jolene still missed. Ten years hadn’t even begun to numb the pain or take away the gaping hole in her heart.

19. The culinary Casanova was at it again. No way would she go next door for breakfast no matter how tempting the fare.

20.  “I am the Keeper of Paradise, Purgatory and Hell.”
John Parker realized his tone was over-harsh when the shipping clerk backed away, stammering, at his response.

21. Guilty or not, Leonardo faced a death sentence.
Alone in his father’s house, he paced his room, fearful that any moment the Governor’s guards would pound upon the door, drag him to Florence.

22. Fate had painted a bull’s-eye on my back. The ironic thing, I didn’t believe in fate or karma before my brother left a message on my office’s answering machine that was the equivalent to Armageddon dropping a line just to say hey.

23. Jill tried to stand straighter, though the handcuffs bit into her wrists. If this was to be her last moment alive, she was determined to go bravely.

24. Sitting in a graffiti-smeared cell on a Sunday afternoon wasn’t what Molly Hicks would call a good way to end a weekend.

“Dammit, Molly!

25.  “We have a visual on the boat,” Coast Guard Lt. Commander Jake Carver reported. Her gloved fingers tightened around the helicopter’s control stick and she increased air speed.

26.  “That man would have taken you off my hands had you shown one iota of intelligence.” Every one of Uncle John’s hate-filled words was a lance piercing Desiree’s flesh and she didn’t have the armor necessary to withstand the pain.

27. “You want me to do what?” Ainsley asked, nearly choking on her tea at her mother’s announcement. She knew the invitation was not for a pleasant chat, but she had no idea her mother would stoop to this.

28. “I suppose there’s no turning back now,” Lady Emma Caulfield whispered.

“You should have thought of that before you put the story in the Post,” Mary Lambert whispered back.

29. Even after he was dead, my father’s obsession with magic continued to color my life. He hadn’t been dead so long that I didn’t have many memories of him, but my strongest were of slight of hand and illusion.

30. She expected the ragged skeletons that thundered through the orchard on their will o’ the wisp chargers, expected the slow parade of pale eyed ladies with their gossamer hair and butterfly wings, expected even the raven with the broken tail feather that flew among them, darting and swooping through their insubstantial forms to send them whisking skyward like so much smoke, but the heavy hand on her shoulder, the warm breath tickling her ear and the soft, masculine voice whispering “Jane” – these were the trappings of nightmares, the first indication that her life was about to change for the worse.

“It’s done,” he said.

31. The man holding the gun to her head didn’t know what she was capable of.

Tess Damon braced herself in the open doorway of the airplane while shivers raced up and down her body.

32. My name is Isadora Macleod and I am haunted. Take it from me, a life where the dead are your regular clientele is nothing like Hollywood would have you believe.

33. Nadia Reynolds’ cheatin’ SOB of a husband had dumped her for a twenty-something with plastic tits, telling Nadia he didn’t find her attractive any longer. Whatever.

34. How could her friend bring her to such a barbaric event?
Agony radiated off the dark-haired fighter as his blonde opponent twisted his arm into an awkward angle.

35. That’s where the body is.

Amelia’s stomach knotted as she trudged toward the recovery site, carefully watching where she placed her feet in the snow.

36. Traveling through time hurts, at least for the broker. But I’ve grown resistant to the pain and that makes my bounty hunting services invaluable.

37. They had been in the interrogation room for twelve hours straight. He hadn’t left, not even to get coffee or a donut or to tag team in his partner for that whole good cop-bad-cop game.

38. “Even Jane Eyre found her Mr. Rochester.” Lucy Bennett caressed the spine of Charlotte Bronte’s novel and released a sigh.

39. He brought four items to their first date: a spray of orange roses, because he knew they were her favorite flower; a duffle bag containing a change of clothing; three condoms to capture any stray DNA; and a freshly sharpened hunting knife.

With anticipation fizzing through his veins—as effervescent as the finest batch of imported champagne—he plowed through the sprinkler mist dampening the walkway and took the steep steps to her porch two at a time.

40. The Lord of Harmeswood was a madman and a murderer, and Alexandrina Whitsett was headed straight for his house.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true — she and her brother, James, were returning from a weekend house party in Kent, and were about to drive past Harmeswood’s ancient moldering pile, but even that was too close for comfort.

41. If she’d been a bad girl when she had the chance, she probably wouldn’t be dying right now. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

42. It was going to be a dark and stormy night once Hurricane Lex stopped flirting with the coast and got his hands down Savannah’s pants. Teijon didn’t need Goodnight, Atlanta’s weather girl to tell him that, though.

43. The blood on her hands trickled down between shaky fingers. Slowly, Marisol curled her fingers into fists, resting them on her knees, and looked down at the dead man before her.

44. It may sound odd, but sometimes moments in life seem to have a distinct smell. At any moment, of any day, a plethora of aromas can summon a wealth of emotions and memories.

45. The man slouched on the edge of the bed, his fingers clutching the deadly syringe hidden in his jacket pocket. Despite the timpani drum pounding in his chest and echoing in his ears, his face was expressionless.

46. Darkness did not fall gently this day.

It scourged the land like a rolling plague, leaving shadow where there had been shapes—a predatory hunger not unlike his own.

47. His life consisted of death. In fact Lucas Sinclair knew many ways to die.

48. Looking back, my mid-life crisis began on a Tuesday in March, right there on aisle twelve of the local supermarket between the laxatives and the condoms. That’s the day I confronted an assortment of tampon boxes and wondered if my diminishing egg production warranted the forty-eight count economy size.

49. Seven lockers down, my boyfriend was making out with Cheryl, the way-too-perky head cheerleader.

I tried not to stare, but when his hand slid past her waist and over her hip, I slammed my locker shut and stormed off in the opposite direction.

50.  “What do you mean I’m not on your list?” Tomorrow’s final review deadline for the weekend Food section wouldn’t care that she’d made this reservation two weeks ago.

51. Ephraim MacNeill would kill anyone who stood in his way. Still not believing his luck at locating Elizabeth’s current place of imprisonment, he feared the rumor a ruse, or worse—a calculated attempt to draw him into the spider’s web.

52. So very close, Nate Benson thought to himself, trying hard to keep his mind on the purchase contract he was proofing. It was way too soon for celebrations.

53. A hand–oh God, she hoped it was a hand–gripped her ankle like a vise and tugged. Tina clung to the rope for dear life and winced when its nylon thread chafed her leather gloves, but her grit and determination was no match for the sheer force pulling her downward.

54.  “They have a two-hundred thirty year head start and I thought I could find them?” Finn macc Liamór bit back an oath and the urge to hurl the fragile leather-bound journal across the quiet reading room of the Ruehl Institute in San Francisco where Niell and he had buried themselves for the past week.

55. The hate mail started Monday morning.
If she’d known about it, Parker Kennard might have just stayed in bed–or at least stayed away from the office.

56. Jackson Taylor’s toes clenched as he came abruptly awake, the left side of his body shivering. A soft weight held his shoulder down, the feel of a woman’s curves pressing hard against his chest, keeping the right side delectably warm.

57. The young prince was going to die. When the angry mob of outlaws and outcasts finally realized who it was that had fallen into their clutches, they would tear the young nobleman to shreds, and there was nothing Shallah could do to prevent it.

58. I wish alcohol didn’t exist. I shook my head as I watched the chubby chick in the short skirt slurp the dredges from her half gallon carton of orange juice.

59. “What do you mean, ‘You can’t be alone with me?’” Saari planted her hands on the edge of the desk and leaned closer to her laptop’s webcam.

60.  “Oh, hell,” Brit Roberts snapped when the ringing phone on her kitchen wall stopped her in her tracks at seven AM. Already late leaving for work, she turned away and reached for the doorknob, then paused at the second ring.

Sorry to those who didn’t make it this time around.  Once again, the judge had a difficult time culling; there are so many great lines!  Two of my faves didn’t make the cut this time.  L

K*

MASTER OF SURRENDER has been nominated for Best Historical Romance over at Romance Novel TV!  Go check it out, and um, well vote if, you wanna!

http://www.romancenovel.tv/wordpress/2008/12/22/vote-on-the-top-romance-books-of-2008/#comments

Karin*

Guess who finaled in the erotic suspense category?  JADED!  I could not be more thrilled.  I loved these characters and loved their story.  I still think of them.  And for those of you who read JADED and not HAVE YOURSELF A NAUGHTY LITTLE SANTA? shame on you. Ricco, who hangs out as Jase’s partner in JADED, gets his story in NAUGHTY, and Jase and Jade make and appearance.  So do Ty and Phil. 

Jaded

Also, I know I mentioned earlier this week that I’d be hanging around over at Lust in Time, but I wanna tell you again: If you love lusty historicals, and some really classy steamy eye candy, you need to come on over and check these gals out.  Not to mention I’ve been having a blast over there since Monday.  Lord Craven-More, a very naughty rake, convinced me to put up an excerpt of MASTER OF CRAVING, and a little birdie told me he’s going to be interviewing a hot alpha knight who is near and dear to my heart, very soon.  Books are up for grabs, so don’t be shy, c’mon by and hang out. 

Naughty

Cheers!

K*

Congrats to the 80 lines that made it to the next round!

If you see your first line below, you have until midnight this Friday to post it and a second line!  Remember, stick to your original line!  No changes!

I’d also like to invite you all to hop on over to Lust in Time, a really sexy blog place. I’ll be hanging out there for most of the week beginning today.  And there are books to be had!  So come on by, introduce yourself, and hang out. I think you’ll really dig it. 

Also, the second round of American Title V is underway! http://www.romantictimes.com/news_amtitle3.php

Go vote!  I did.  Multiple times, (hint hint Dead People).

1. The culinary Casanova was at it again.

2. Even after he was dead, my father’s obsession with magic continued to color my life.

3. Thick clouds of steam puffed out of manhole covers and sewer grates, making it extra hard for Henry to see while driving in the dark.

4. “You want me to do what?” Ainsley asked, nearly choking on her tea at her mother’s announcement.

5. I wish alcohol didn’t exist.

6. The mansion loomed eerily through the swirling mist, a sinister shadow against the backdrop of a storm darkened sky.

7. It was going to be a dark and stormy night once Hurricane Lex stopped flirting with the coast and got his hands down Savannah’s pants.

8. Sin in stilettos hunted him.

9. The piercing pain in her chest grew worse, but she couldn’t stop running.

10. I squeezed the trigger, the noise of the gun deafening in the confined space of the elevator.

11. Kudzu ran rampant along the hillsides of the Ozarks as it stretched its leafy tendrils engulfing everything in its path, choking out the native plants.

12. Traveling through time hurts, at least for the broker.

13. His life consisted of death.

14. “That man would have taken you off my hands had you shown one iota of intelligence.”

15. Showing up to host a top-rated morning drive-time radio show nursing the mother of all hangovers Shepard Stein could handle, carrying on a coherent conversation with a husky voiced, sexy-as-hell sounding listener was going to cost him.

16. The man slouched on the edge of the bed, his fingers clutching the deadly syringe hidden in his jacket pocket.

17. Fate had painted a bull’s-eye on my back.

18. “We have a visual on the boat,” Coast Guard Lt. Commander Jake Carver reported.

19. Seven lockers down, my boyfriend was making out with Cheryl, the way-too-perky head cheerleader.

20. Sometimes even a bounty hunter needed a night off, especially one on the hunt for a wayward Gypsy prince.

21. Nadia Reynolds’ cheatin’ SOB of a husband had dumped her for a twenty-something with plastic tits, telling Nadia he didn’t find her attractive any longer.

22. Sitting in a graffiti-smeared cell on a Sunday afternoon wasn’t what Molly Hicks would call a good way to end a weekend.

23. Silence in the idling Cadillac grew as stale as the gunpowder in the air.

24. It was feeding time and humans were the only thing on the menu.

25. Looking back, my mid-life crisis began on a Tuesday in March, right there on aisle twelve of the local supermarket between the laxatives and the condoms.

26. Megan Trent jerked out of a deep sleep at the sound of her clock radio turning on and off by itself in a rapid beat of white noise and eerie silence.

27. Blind dates were the work of the devil, and Presley Gordon’s best friend was the devil’s apprentice.

28. She was going to die.

29. I wobbled into my apartment, legs wide, as if I’d spent the last seven hours on a horse.

30. How could her friend bring her to such a barbaric event?

31. Jill tried to stand straighter, though the handcuffs bit into her wrists.

32. The best thing about being an heiress – the low expectations.

33. Only a few cars remained outside “The Hood,” the Sacramento dance club Bryn Donovon and her best friend Christine Lucas had decided to try out along with a bunch of other college kids.

34. Ephraim MacNeill would kill anyone who stood in his way.

35. It may sound odd, but sometimes moments in life seem to have a distinct smell.

36. Jackson Taylor’s toes clenched as he came abruptly awake, the left side of his body shivering.

37. “Zeus has summoned you.”

38. “What do you mean I’m not on your list?”

39. It came to Nick Holloway, gradually, that he was lying on cold, hard concrete.

40. Her limp hands distended toward the small waves and then she went under.

41. Ghostly images floated before her eyes as the light over Sandie’s head flared and went out.

42. Darkness did not fall gently this day.

43. Lacey knew the moment she opened her eyes that something was wrong.

44. He brought four items to their first date: a spray of orange roses, because he knew they were her favorite flower; a duffle bag containing a change of clothing; three condoms to capture any stray DNA; and a freshly sharpened hunting knife.

45. That’s where the body is.

46. The warmth of the desert vanished under a shroud of bone-chilling twilight.

47. The man holding the gun to her head didn’t know what she was capable of.

48. Cold trembling fingers reached out to trace the letters engraved on the headstone, the chilly marble slab the only tangible link to the family Jolene still missed.

49. “Who—What—oh God!” Susan shouted, bolting up in bed.

50. Grace Carlton cocked the rifle and lodged it against her shoulder.

51. Even two hundred yards away in near-whiteout conditions, Locklen Roane saw the red Accord careening too fast down Highway 145.

52. “They have a two-hundred thirty year head start and I thought I could find them?”

53. “I suppose there’s no turning back now,” Lady Emma Caulfield whispered.

54. She expected the ragged skeletons that thundered through the orchard on their will o’ the wisp chargers, expected the slow parade of pale eyed ladies with their gossamer hair and butterfly wings, expected even the raven with the broken tail feather that flew among them, darting and swooping through their insubstantial forms to send them whisking skyward like so much smoke, but the heavy hand on her shoulder, the warm breath tickling her ear and the soft, masculine voice whispering “Jane” – these were the trappings of nightmares, the first indication that her life was about to change for the worse.

55. The only super natural thing in this salt-water town is the crazy lady on Center Street who claims she can predict the future.

56. You knew Maudie Cooper was really dead when you read her funeral invite listed in the Boggy Bayou Chronicle, “The oldest family run newspaper in Louisiana,” or so they say.

57. I hissed when I saw it, my gut coiling, hide crawling in alarm.

58. The young prince was going to die.

59. If she’d been a bad girl when she had the chance, she probably wouldn’t be dying right now.

60. “I am the Keeper of Paradise, Purgatory and Hell.”

61. The hate mail started Monday morning.

62. Guilty or not, Leonardo faced a death sentence.

63. A lone figure stood in the shadows of an abandoned warehouse, watching.

64. A large eye gawked at Mae Simon.

65. I had boarded the boat for Hades.

66. My name is Isadora Macleod and I am haunted.

67. “He’s dying.”

68. Mardi Gras was in full celebration in New Orleans, but Alexander Xavier Montclair, one of the most eligible bachelors in the Queen City social circles, and by far the most handsome, found himself in very cold, very wintery, Charleston on a business trip.

69. A hand–oh God, she hoped it was a hand–gripped her ankle like a vise and tugged.

70. “Oh, hell,” Brit Roberts snapped when the ringing phone on her kitchen wall stopped her in her tracks at seven AM.

71. The fair crowd trickled in, trapping the Alabama mug between tightly pressed bodies, and Liberty Belle Tipton figured a whisper of air would have to fight for freedom.

72. “What do you mean, ‘You can’t be alone with me?’”

73. I will not bore you with the myriad details of precisely how my situation came to pass, and the various indignities of my day-to-day-existence.

74. “Have you ever had sex in an elevator?”

75. So very close, Nate Benson thought to himself, trying hard to keep his mind on the purchase contract he was proofing.

76. The blood on her hands trickled down between shaky fingers.

77. A political fundraiser was the last place to find Benicio Alvarez, so why was her ex in attendance?

78. “Even Jane Eyre found her Mr. Rochester.”

79. They had been in the interrogation room for twelve hours straight.

80. The Lord of Harmeswood was a madman and a murderer, and Alexandrina Whitsett was headed straight for his house.

Good Luck!

K*

Some random guy..

K*

So, hubby has a wee bit too much time on his hands these days, and he too wondered what kind of story all of the first lines would make, and voila!  Here it is, and I must say it’s quite entertaining!

He came to her in the deep of the night as he always did, a breath of sea-tinged mist along her skin, whisper-soft and damp like a lover’s lips. The culinary Casanova was at it again. Ziva’s tongue unrolled from her mouth, the forked end tasting, smelling the environment.

.

Thick clouds of steam puffed out of manhole covers and sewer grates, making it extra hard for Henry to see while driving in the dark. Silence in the idling Cadillac grew as stale as the gunpowder in the air. “Your sperm canister will be shipped… Did you just have an orgasm?”

“Okay, if everybody’s here, we’ll head on down to Betsy Ross’ house where she lived and worked when she– You want me to do what?” Ainsley asked, nearly choking on her tea. “I wish alcohol didn’t exist.”

“That man would have taken you off my hands had you shown one iota of intelligence.” The mansion loomed eerily through the swirling mist, a sinister shadow against the backdrop of a storm darkened sky. His life consisted of death.  Traveling through time hurts, at least for the broker.  She was going to die.

“Hey, Sexy! Want to get naked with me?” Jackson Taylor’s toes clenched as he came abruptly awake, the left side of his body shivering.  Sin in stilettos hunted him. How could her friend bring her to such a barbaric event? Only a few cars remained outside “The Hood,” the Sacramento dance club Bryn Donovon and her best friend Christine Lucas had decided to try out along with a bunch of other college kids. 

Darkness did not fall gently this day. Lacey knew the moment she opened her eyes that something was wrong.  The piercing pain in her chest grew worse, but she couldn’t stop running.  Sometimes even a bounty hunter needed a night off, especially one on the hunt for a wayward Gypsy prince.

Dominique woke to the souls of her Carib ancestors demanding payment in food. “Who—What—oh God!”  It was feeding time and humans were the only thing on the menu.  “What do you mean I’m not on your list? I am the Keeper of Paradise, Purgatory and Hell.”  Fate had painted a bull’s-eye on my back.

I wobbled into my apartment, legs wide, as if I’d spent the last seven hours on a horse. Jill tried to stand straighter, though the handcuffs bit into her wrists.  The man holding the gun to her head didn’t know what she was capable of. He brought four items to their first date: a spray of orange roses, because he knew they were her favorite flower; a duffle bag containing a change of clothing; three condoms to capture any stray DNA; and a freshly sharpened hunting knife.  Blind dates were the work of the devil.

 “Zeus has summoned you.”

“I suppose there’s no turning back now?”  There was no smashing of vases or maniacal yelling. I squeezed the trigger, the noise of the gun deafening in the confined space of the elevator.  Blood dripped down the courthouse steps. It may sound odd, but sometimes moments in life seem to have a distinct smell.  That’s where the body is. 

“He’s dying.”  The young prince was going to die. The man slouched on the edge of the bed, his fingers clutching the deadly syringe hidden in his jacket pocket.  Nadia Reynolds’ cheatin’ SOB of a husband had dumped her for a twenty-something with plastic tits, telling Nadia he didn’t find her attractive any longer.  Ephraim MacNeill would kill anyone who stood in his way.

The warmth of the desert vanished under a shroud of bone-chilling twilight.  Christine’s night took an unexpected turn.  A thousand years of unrest shall pass, while evil lurks and those on the outside must live without refuge. 

“They have a two-hundred thirty year head start and I thought I could find them?” Lady Emma Caulfield whispered. A hand–oh God, she hoped it was a hand–gripped her ankle like a vise and tugged. Her limp hands distended toward the small waves and then she went under.

“We have a visual on the boat,” Coast Guard Lt. Commander Jake Carver reported.  I had boarded the boat for Hades. It was going to be a dark and stormy night once Hurricane Lex stopped flirting with the coast and got his hands down Savannah’s pants. It was the best day of Phyrne’s life, even before landing on earth five days ago.

The hate mail started Monday morning.  Guilty or not, Leonardo faced a death sentence.  I expected to be jittery, that was only natural under the circumstances, what I didn’t expect was to freak out in front of thousands of TV viewers. I will not bore you with the myriad details of precisely how my situation came to pass, and the various indignities of my day-to-day-existence. Looking back, my mid-life crisis began on a Tuesday in March, right there on aisle twelve of the local supermarket between the laxatives and the condoms. Seven lockers down, my boyfriend was making out with Cheryl, the way-too-perky head cheerleader.  I hissed when I saw it, my gut coiling, hide crawling in alarm. If she’d been a bad girl when she had the chance, she probably wouldn’t be dying right now.

“What do you mean, You can’t be alone with me? Have you ever had sex in an elevator?”  Susan shouted, bolting up in bed.  It came to Nick Holloway, gradually, that he was lying on cold, hard concrete.  They had been in the interrogation room for twelve hours straight.

The last servant brought tea that morning arranged on a lacquered tray before fleeing.  The best thing about being an heiress – the low expectations. The blood on her hands trickled down between shaky fingers.  A lone figure stood in the shadows of an abandoned warehouse, watching.  Grace Carlton cocked the rifle and lodged it against her shoulder. 

Megan Trent jerked out of a deep sleep at the sound of her clock radio turning on and off by itself in a rapid beat of white noise and eerie silence.  My name is Isadora Macleod and I am haunted.  Ghostly images floated before her eyes. The only super natural thing in this salt-water town is the crazy lady on Center Street who claims she can predict the future.  Daisy wasn’t real. 

“Oh, hell,” Brit Roberts snapped when the ringing phone on her kitchen wall stopped her in her tracks at seven AM.  “Even Jane Eyre found her Mr. Rochester.”

The Lord of Harmeswood was a madman and a murderer, and Alexandrina Whitsett was headed straight for his house.  Even two hundred yards away in near-whiteout conditions, Locklen Roane saw the red Accord careening too fast down Highway 145.

There was not much that could shock Nathan Ryder, the current Earl of Kingston, or so he had always thought.  Cold trembling fingers reached out to trace the letters engraved on the headstone, the chilly marble slab the only tangible link to the family Jolene still missed.  Sitting in a graffiti-smeared cell on a Sunday afternoon wasn’t what Molly Hicks would call a good way to end a weekend.