Sneak Preview ~ Coyote Moon by Pat Cunningham

Cody Gray hiked into Coopersburg just shy of sunset, and right off the bat he smelled she-wolf.
Cody’s mouth stretched in a great big fox-in-the-henhouse grin. If he’d had his tail right then, he’d’ve wagged it. All the way up from Texas he’d been on the lookout for some nice wild country to set up a pack in, and a mate to help him get started. Just when he figured northern California might fill the bill for one, Fate dropped the other in his lap. Chaos, patron of the coyote-folk, must be smiling on him.
He set his nose to the wind. He’d already spotted a bar up ahead, and a couple of houses and a gas station, before the two-laner he’d hitchhiked in on widened out and entered Coopersburg proper. The she-wolf was at the gas station, and plenty riled by the scent of her. He drank in a noseful of her and sighed. Nice and pungent. Alpha, maybe? He liked his girls feisty. Cody quickened his pace.
Closer to the gas station, he spotted a nasty tableau: three big apes closing in on a pair of ladies. The lady in back, getting herded into the dubious safety of the garage bay, was slender, blonde and cursing like a dock hand. The herder had auburn hair and three-four inches on the blonde. She looked fit to chew brass and spit tacks. Cody’s pulse ramped up to a gallop. There was his wolf, and she was about to get herself trounced. Her bared teeth kept the apes at bay, but they wouldn’t hold much longer.
He slowed and came up on them careful and unnoticed, close enough to smell the alcohol on the apes and hear the menace coloring their taunts. The wolf-gal said something. The snarl in her tone announced the apes were in for a whuppin’, but she made no move to attack. Cody crouched behind a parked car. Chaos, only three of them. Why didn’t she just shift and end it?
Then, in a heartbeat, the situation changed. The blonde screamed. Cody’s hackles lifted. The apes had a buddy, and he’d snuck in through the office into the bay and caught the blonde gal from behind. She writhed in his grip while the other apes hooted. The wolf-gal darted in to help the blonde, but the ape in the lead grabbed her arm. Cody didn’t catch his words, but the leer on his face said it all.
So she let him have it. No girly slaps for this she-wolf. She socked him a solid one, right in the nose. The smell of blood joined the odors of liquor and adrenaline that already charged the air. The words she barked at the lead ape weren’t the kind ladies should know, much less repeat in public, but given the situation Cody allowed she was entitled.
The big ape’s face got uglier, no mean feat. If the wolf-gal hadn’t switched by now, Cody realized, she either wasn’t going to, or couldn’t.
That clinched it. This was his future mate getting threatened by those drunk knuckle-draggers. He bared his teeth, revealing canines just a tad longer and heavier than a human’s. Time to get involved. In true coyote fashion, of course.
This being a garage, naturally it had a peck of cars sitting around, and naturally some trusting soul had left their keys in the ignition. Cody slid in behind the wheel of a sporty little Mustang that started up real nice. He took aim and floored it.
The rev of the Mustang’s engine must’ve cut through the boozy haze on their brains because they looked around and finally noticed the car rocketing right at them. They abandoned the wolf-gal and scattered. Cody plowed through the midst of them, then swung a tight U-ey and shot after their leader, the biggest, ugliest ape in this bunch of bananas. The man scrabbled desperately over the tarmac. Cody brought the Mustang right up on his heels before he slewed it aside. He reached out and slapped the ape’s John Deere cap clean off his head. The ape stumbled away, and the car shot on by.
Cody let loose a Texas howl and wheeled around for another go. Chaos, this car handled sweet. “Gotta get me one of these,” he murmured.
And one of those, he added mentally, as his squealing turn faced him toward the garage again. The goon in the bay had let go of the blonde, and now the wolf-gal was all over him like, well, like ugly on an ape. Poor guy couldn’t even land a slap. Too quick and strong for him. Cody’s butt hitched on the seat, wagging a phantom tail.
Since the wolf-gal didn’t need his help, he went back after the apes. They’d made fast tracks across the street and piled into a pickup parked by the bar. They took off down the road without so much as a cussword flung at him. Cody offered up a mental shrug. Didn’t want to dent their truck, most like. Apes had oddball priorities.
He trundled the Mustang up to the garage. The wolf-gal had the fourth ape flat on the greasy floor. The ape contracted into a ball. “C’mon, Willy. I said I was sorry.”
“You’re sorry, all right,” she growled down at him. “I expect cheap thuggery from Les, but you—”
She cut herself off and sniffed the air. She turned just as Cody hopped out of the Mustang. He watched her eyes get big and her body tighten up to full attention.
She knew what he was, all right, but only on some basic, primitive level, not in her head or her nose. She didn’t recognize him. Any she-wolf worth her pack standing would be showing her fangs by now, with a growl at him to git, rescue or no rescue. That’s how your average wolf saw coyotes, pests to be run off. Because your average wolf had no sense of humor.
He stared hard into her eyes. A fine honey-brown shade. Wolf eyes ran to yellow, like his own. This one had a whiff of ape on her. Half-breed? That might explain why she hadn’t switched.
Her stance had shifted into a pose of wary friendliness. She let him get pretty close up before she stopped him with a little twitch of her mouth, not quite the flash of a fang. “Thanks,” she said.
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
“I could have handled it. Those jerks are losers even when they’re sober. But I do appreciate the help.” She smiled just enough to get Cody’s invisible tail wagging again. “Nice moves with my car, by the way.”
Her car? Chaos love it, this just got better and better. Cody flashed a smile wide enough to eat the moon. She didn’t even have her hand halfway out before he seized it. “Glad I could help. I’m Cody Gray, up from Texas. You’re going to marry me.”
~~~~~~

COMING REAL SOON from Siren-BookStrand!!! Git those pinkies ready to click the buy button!

My First Time

My First Time

By Pat Cunningham

No, not that first time. (Made ya look, though, didn’t I? Ha ha!) I’m talking about my first sale of a romance story to a romance publisher. “Coyote Moon” will be available shortly from epublisher Siren/BookStrand. Since my other story sales were all to SF/fantasy markets, this means I’ve successfully crossed over into another genre.

Well, crossed over, at any rate. We’ll find out how successful I was once the reviews start coming in.

To be fair, I cheated. It’s a paranormal (shape-shifters), so there are strong fantasy elements, which kept me well within my comfort zone. It’s a comedy – again, something I’m no stranger to. I had a ball writing the dialogue, but for me dialogue’s the fun part.

Switching focus from a plot-driven adventure to the developing relationship between two people – okay, you got me. That was the tricky part. Still locked in action/adventure mode, I tend to run with the plot and forget the relationship. I need to slow down and give these people a chance to get to know each other. Half the time I have to go back and shoehorn in the sex scene. That’s not how you write a romance, much less keep your characters happy.

So, what have I learned from my foray into a brand-new genre? I love humor and snappy repartee. I should probably focus on romcoms. I need to add more sensory detail. I use variations of “was” far too often. (The editor highlighted every one of them in the manuscript. Yikes! Passive voice was rampant. See what I mean?)

Best of all, I’ve added a new form of writing to my resume. Now I can get rejected in science fiction, fantasy, and romance. Tomorrow, the world.

How long will I swim in my new pool? Depends on how long the paranormal trend stays healthy. I’ve got all sorts of ideas. My current WIP involves a werewolf paired with a witch (she’s a vegetarian – hilarity ensues) to solve a murder mystery. Great, now I’m doing mysteries. Genre number four.

The important thing is to learn the rules, keep them in mind, and treat the material with respect, regardless of the genre(s). With luck and lots of practice, you’re bound to produce a tale that people will read from end to end and find entertaining enough to thank you afterwards. That works no matter what genre you write in.

Party, Party

Fans of Regency romance will know that when a society hostess had her ball or party voted a shocking squeeze or a sad crush, that she had received the ultimate accolade.

In Regency terms the Romantic Novelists' Association summer party, which took place last month, came very close. The lovely library at the Institute of Mechanical Engineers, which overlooks St James' Park in London, was packed with authors, and people from the publishing world, all celebrating the start of summer (We live in hope) and the achievement of a group of new authors from amongst the RNA membership who had achieved publication during 2008/09 and were in line for the Joan Hessayon award for the best new novel - including TM's own Helen, who was there amongst the finalists for her debut novel The Magic Knot.

Sadly Helen didn't win, that honour went to Allie Spencer with her legal rom-com Tug of Love, from Little Black Dress, but we had a good time celebrating her place in the final and drinking champagne even so -

The picture gives you an idea of what the room looked like - that's Helen in black and white in the middle. The room was so packed that my attempts to get a photo of the line up when the prize was announced are too full of the backs of other people's heads to be usable. I have to thank a tall gentleman, standing on a chair, for this one. He was doing a brisk trade as people handed him their cameras.

Also unveiled at the party was the anthology of romantic short stories. Loves Me, Loves Me Not which celebrates the 50th anniversary of the RNA next year.

Published by MIRA, in hardback in the autumn and paperback in spring 2010, it has a lovely cover and an even better contents. With a foreword by Katie Fforde - the new Chair of the RNA for its celebration year- and an afterword by Jill Mansell, it has stories from Nicola Cornick, Rosemary Laurie, Carole Matthews and a host of others. A real chance to sample the talent of the RNA across the board, to read in a genre you don't usually pick up and maybe find out a few new names to try. Makes a good gift too for Xmas or Mother's day.

A great time was had by all - and many congratulations to Helen for being in that very special line up - even if I don't have a picture.

BUSY, BUSY, BUSY

That's the Title Magicians these days - with publication deadlines, edits, pitches to agents, contests and awards - the list goes on.

For this reason we've decided to change our blogging habits to a more irregular pattern. We'll still be here for big events and the occasional random thought, and we hope that you will still drop by from time to time, to see what's new in our world.

Your support, comments and friendship are valuable to us, so do keep coming by to check when there's something new we're bursting to tell.

See you soon.

X-rated blog ~ CHRONTROPOLIS, The Magic of Creation

Hi, Title Magicians, the bay city of Chrontropolis is the created home of my Superheroine, SlashFlame Kitten, and her Superheroes, The Dark Brothers in my latest release from Siren-BookStrand.
Hey, if they can do it in the comic books, think Metropolis, I’ll follow their writerly wisdom. I have to say, it was a challenge and a whole lotta fun to make-up Chrontropolis, to visualize this once proud and thriving city torn apart by weather wars and at the same time, reviving itself, due in large part to the constant efforts of the emerging superheroes and superheroines in saving the citizens and the city.
~~~

THE DARK VALOROUS BROTHERS - Supermen of Steel

I don’t know about you, but me and my girlfriends would occasionally remark and tittering-speculate on certain attributes a man of steel might possess in the bedroom. Actually, we were darn tame compared to this day and sexual age.
However, I won’t go into the lusty lascivious details of our libation-encouraged fantasies, since this definitely gets into the realm of the personal. Suffice it to say, I’ve had my share of superhero fantasies. Now, I get the extreme pleasure of exploring the rod of steel.

My heroes in HER INSATIABLE DARK HEROES, have survived the catastrophic weather wars on their world. About ten percent of the remaining population begin to have superpowers in conjunction with the arrival of the Harbinger, a blue star seen through the ash and haze of their devastated planet-world. This particular story was much darker to write than my previous books because in this world, the characters are struggling to survive and to continue the slow recovery of their bay city, Chrontropolis.
~~~

HER INSATIABLE DARK HEROES - Siren Menage Amour

Chrontropolis lives... yes, I am dancing-giddy-excited about the release of HER INSATIABLE DARK HEROES May 1 ~ from Siren’s Menage Amour line.

Blurb ~

How many Superheroes does it take to satisfy the one woman who dances like a fire goddess? Answer: the four Dark Valorous Brothers of Chrontropolis.
Before the weather wars destroyed her world, Wendra was the girl next door, except for her dancing talent and her desire to become a top performer. When she is rescued from her own desperate attempt to fly inside her flame by Dark Zavier, then Claimed by the four Dark Valorous brothers, she has no idea how to cope with their primitive insatiable sexual needs, or their passionate longing to bond with her.
On top of that, her own super power, the ability to use flame as a weapon, is becoming stronger by the day, even if it remains useless against the Dark Brothers’ determination to master her. Still, how does she make her own blazing mark, in the new world of Superheroes and Super Villains?
~~~

PG Story Excerpt ~

Zion fastened his gaze on the tornado’s advance, straight for the center of Chrontropolis. Already chunks of debris whirled in the funnel, with the larger pieces being hurled in every direction.
“What are they doing ” Wendy abruptly straightened. Her muscles tensed anxiously as he lowered them onto the chair. Riveted, she watched his brothers’ streaking flight toward the behemoth tornado snaking angrily over the ground.
Zion coded in the emergency, sending it to all of the Super Brethren. It could be too late. Whoever had created the weather monstrosity had known where to conjure it up and how to time its attack on Chrontropolis. He hoped like wild hell some of the Super Brethren followed behind his brothers, though he knew if they’d been anywhere close, the screen’s visual technology would have already shown them.
“Can they really stop that horrible thing?” Wendy’s breaths quickened in fear. “By themselves?”
Zion didn’t know which way to jump. Should he reassure her or tell her the truth? The force and size of the tornado as shown by the screen’s readouts required six supermen with the power level of the Dark Brothers to alter its course and lessen the destruction. Instead of answering her, he shut his eyes in concentration, communicating telepathically the current status to his brothers.
“My Great Aunt Minnie,” she swore. “Since you’re not answering, it must be bad.”
“Wendy,” he began. Yet what did he tell her?
“Why do you have to stay here?” she impatiently challenged. “Go help them.”
She moved restlessly while he refined the screen’s imaging capability and searched a wider perimeter for other Superheroes. Quietly he heaved in a relieved breath. The three Gallant Brothers flight-charged toward the tornado from another angle. Although their arrival would not be timely, the odds had just improved. Once again, Zion used telepathy to send the info. Next, he switched on the city’s alarm system. It was not fully effective in covering the entire metro, but still, lives would be saved if the worst occurred.
“The Gallant Brothers?” She leaned toward the screen.
“Yes,” he confirmed, desperately wanting solutions he didn’t have. Yet.
Zion studied the rough distortion at the top of the funnel. The precision of the matrix frequencies told him it was being manipulated by master scientists.
“Omygawd It’s growing.” She strained farther forward, her gaze locked on the boiling black twister.
“It’s doubling in strength.” Regretting his rash words, Zion connected mentally with his brothers, informing them.
“It’s too large. No ”
“Wendy...”
“Don’t bother with a lie.”
When he cupped her shoulder with his palm, she shrugged out of his hold. “You should have gone with them.”
His own anger surfacing, Zion seized her upper arms. “Don’t be a fool. Who would protect you if—”
“If they die,” she struck back.
He hesitated, but only for an instant. “Yes, Wendy, if they die.”
She froze, her spine stiff with dread. “It’s headed for the center of Chrontropolis, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Zion hauled in a large breath. “I’ve sounded the city alarms.”
“You can do that from here?”
“We have control over all the city systems from here.”
She slumped back a bit, and he knew she couldn’t take her gaze away from the screen. Neither could he. His brothers flew abreast at rocket speed, their outlines blurred on the screen. The tornado had developed into a distorted serpent, furious as it spun over the ground. Uprooted trees, enormous rocks and pieces from old structures orbited the eye in a bizarre chaotic frenzy.
“Good resolution.” She trembled. “I can see everything so clearly. Too clearly.”
He stroked her arms and shoulders, trying to comfort her. “Night vision advancements. Necessary for night patrol.”
“What are they going to do, really?” Her voice cracked and she shrank into the bend of his body.
“Use their flying speed to unwind the tornado’s spin.”
She shuddered, then flung her arm up to point at two more of the Super Brethren. “Who are they?”
“The Tiger Twins.” Zion’s heart jumped into his throat, not with fear, but with hope. The twins possessed a ridiculously high level of super strength, especially when combined. Yet, would they arrive in time? Their flight was slow compared to his brothers’ speed. He mind-sent the message of their immanent arrival.
“They’re getting close.” Wendy stilled, her body rigid, hands knotted together. “Please, oh, please,” she prayed.
Zion silently joined in with his own prayer. His brothers linked arms, soaring into the whirling force of the tornado. Their flight slowed, reduced by the horrific winds they battled. Forming a wedge, they neared the top third of the tornado. Like the tip of an arrow they shot forward with their combined strength, opposite the giant’s spin.
“They look like tiny birds. I can barely see them. On no ” she moaned. “They’re not moving.”
~~~~~~

HAVE A MERRY MONTH OF MAY!

~ DANCE AROUND THE POLES OF THE DARK BROTHERS ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~~~~

Siren Menage Amour - Quatre ~ released MAY 1, 2009

Wendy & the Dark Brothers ~ Zavier, Zent, Zion and Zotorro ~ invite you to read their love story ~
HER INSATIABLE DARK HEROES ~ what does it mean when The Harbinger arrives on a world devastated by weather wars...where super powers are given to a few... released from Siren-BookStrand ~ http://bookstrand.com/authors/savannakougar ~ http://bookstrand.com/product-herinsatiabledarkheroes-13865-200.html ~

Inspiration

Writers can find inspiration in the most unlikely places, but a walk by the ocean is usually a great boost to the creative drive. For those who aren't so lucky as I am to live close to the sea, I decided to take the camera and share my walk this morning.

There was a blackbird singing, and as I neared the cliff path the only other thing I could hear was the sound of the sea hitting the shore ...

The Merry Month of May

The first day of May.

In the Northern hemisphere it’s traditionally a time to celebrate the arrival of spring and the herald of summer.

In the UK classic “maying” involves maypoles and dancers, the crowning of a May queen and possibly her consort, the May king, or maybe the Green Man, the lighting of bonfires and other colourful folk celebrations, although in Europe generally the day seems to have moved on, to one of workers’ marches and possibly political protest.

Authors have embraced the concept of celebration associated with May from the time of Chaucer, whose pilgrims did their travelling in May. There are frequent references to ‘doing observance to a morn of May’ in Shakespeare. An overwhelmingly rural society would have been much closer to the passage of the seasons, celebrating them and also remembering ancient rituals that once ensured fertility, good crops and healthy livestock.

Today’s innocuous folk celebrations have long and sometimes slightly sinister roots.

These days the Celtic festival of Beltane has been superseded by its spookier cousin, Halloween, particularly in paranormal romance. Perhaps it’s time for a change of focus - to a month traditionally associated with love? I’m sure there are spooky possibilities in long twilights and mysterious fires, lit on distant hills.

One that bears thinking about.