I have the talented Zayne Michaels on my blog today. She is sharing an excerpt of her new story, Blood Red and an awesome interview. So, sit back and enjoy. Cheers!
BLOOD RED
Once Upon a Midnight Moon
EXCERPT
Zayne Michaels is a
small-town girl who grew up and ran off to the big city. She currently resides
in the Midwest where she spends her days dreaming up
dark, sexy adventures in between soccer games and the never-ending pile of
laundry.
Zayne's fascination with old and discarded treasures has always been a source of inspiration for her tales. From antique clocks to old, dilapidated houses, her imagination turns to the "what ifs" and "what used to bes."
Maybe this love for the abandoned is why she is a firm advocate of second chances, or perhaps she's just a little crazy. Whatever the reason, Zayne believes everyone chooses their own path, creates their own destiny, and is the author of their own story.
Zayne's fascination with old and discarded treasures has always been a source of inspiration for her tales. From antique clocks to old, dilapidated houses, her imagination turns to the "what ifs" and "what used to bes."
Maybe this love for the abandoned is why she is a firm advocate of second chances, or perhaps she's just a little crazy. Whatever the reason, Zayne believes everyone chooses their own path, creates their own destiny, and is the author of their own story.
BLOOD RED
Declan Collins never
wanted to be a vampire. He certainly never wanted to be a pawn in his Maker’s
games of cat and mouse. When their hunt for a rare and elusive breed of
werewolf leads them straight to Declan’s mate, however, it’s game over.
Lincoln Chastain never imagined the infamous Red Siren would turn out to be his intended. He can’t deny the attraction between them, but nor can he allow a pretty face to distract him from his quest for retribution.
Sometimes, things aren’t as black and white as they seem and finding the truth will come with a price. Will the secrets they discover give the mated pair the happy ending they desire? Or will the lies and greed of others destroy them before they’ve even started?
Lincoln Chastain never imagined the infamous Red Siren would turn out to be his intended. He can’t deny the attraction between them, but nor can he allow a pretty face to distract him from his quest for retribution.
Sometimes, things aren’t as black and white as they seem and finding the truth will come with a price. Will the secrets they discover give the mated pair the happy ending they desire? Or will the lies and greed of others destroy them before they’ve even started?
EXCERPT
Lincoln, big badass he professed to
be, actually stumbled backward. “What are you doing? Are you…are you seducing me?”
Declan shrugged. “Is it working?”
“Are you doing that siren thing you do?”
“Lincoln, I’m not actually a siren.
I’m a muse.” Adding a little extra sway to his hips, he gripped the hem of his
oversized sweater—Lincoln’s sweater to be exact—and
slid the fabric up his torso. “Are you inspired yet, or should I keep going?”
Unlike a siren, a muse didn’t seduce with his voice.
When Declan amped up the juju, he secreted pheromones through the exhalation of
each breath. These pheromones didn’t create obsessive behaviors but had more of
an influential effect, creating a sense of calm, tranquility, and
enlightenment. Hence, his ability to inspire creative minds.
In Lincoln’s case, though, he really
was just seducing him. Sue me.
“I think it’s working.” Lincoln’s voice dropped an octave
and took on a husky quality that sent a shiver of desire down Declan’s spine.
“Maybe you should keep going.”
Almost there. Stripping the soft cotton
shirt off over his head, he tossed it behind him and smoothed one palm down his
flexing abs. “How about now?” Abandoning his powers as a muse, he simply
allowed his body to do the talking. “Come on, Lincoln. I’m not so fragile. I
promise I won’t break.”
“I think I’m starting to feel something.” His hand
went to his groin to cup his swelling cock. “Yeah, definitely feeling something
in this general region.”
Declan tugged the string on his sleep pants, loosening
the waistband so that the fabric slid down his hips. “And now?”
Lincoln’s control finally snapped,
and he took two long strides to close the gap between them, wrapping Declan in
his strong, capable arms. Game over,
cowboy. Oh, Declan did love winning.
“You make me crazy, angel.”
The heat pouring from his mate scorched him, but he
reveled in the burn. No one had ever wanted him like Lincoln wanted him—pure, true, and
without reservation. Okay, maybe with a little reservation, but he felt they
were moving past that.
Fisting one hand in Declan’s hair, Lincoln jerked his head back on his
shoulders and laid siege to his mouth, coming up long minutes later to gasp for
breath. “This probably won’t end well.”
“Probably not,” Declan agreed.
Sure, the idea of a real relationship scared the hell
out of him. He could crawl back to Cashel if things didn’t work out with Lincoln, but frankly, the idea held
no appeal. He didn’t hate Cashel
necessarily, but nor did he want to continue to be someone’s puppet. Things
weren’t like that with Lincoln. Declan never had to worry
that the next order would be the one that finally broke him.
The silence stretched on while Lincoln considered him, clearly
warring with himself over how to proceed. “Be sure, mon bel ange. Be very sure.”
Yes, he
understood the risks, but from where he stood, the benefits far outweighed the
potential consequences. “I am.”
A fierce, possessive growl was his only warning before
Lincoln lifted him off the floor and encouraged Declan’s legs
around his waist. One hand tangled in his hair while the other held a firm grip
on his ass, and Lincoln attacked his mouth with an urgency
that left Declan’s head spinning.
Their tongues tangled and twined, sliding together in
a passionate duel, and Declan moaned in wanton delight as he rocked against his
lover. Raw, untainted desire possessed him, and he dug his fingers into Lincoln’s shoulders, desperate to
be closer.
The response surprised him, even startled him a bit.
He couldn’t catch his breath, but the scary part was he didn’t care. No one had
ever elicited this kind of response from him. No one had pushed him so close to
the brink with nothing more than a kiss.
“Lincoln, please.” His plea came as
a breathy whimper while his mate kissed along the column of his neck. “I can’t
wait.” His insides burned like molten lava, and his nerve endings sizzled with
every touch.
“Patience, angel,” Lincoln rasped before nipping at
his earlobe.
A knock at the door pulled an uncharacteristic growl
from Declan’s lips, and Lincoln’s answering chuckle did
nothing to improve his mood. “Who the hell is that?”
“My guess would be the delivery guy.”
“Tell him to go away.” Declan was starving, but not
for fried rice or egg rolls.
Lincoln scraped his teeth over
Declan’s shoulder and laughed again as he spun them toward the door. “Grab my
wallet.” He nodded toward the end table beside them.
With a grumbling sigh, Declan leaned to the side to
retrieve the wallet, but once upright, he couldn’t resist another taste of his
lover’s lips. Lincoln didn’t protest, even
sliding his fingers into the waistband of Declan’s cotton pants to skim along
his crease as he stumbled toward the front door.
With their mouths still fused together, Lincoln secured Declan with one
hand and reached behind him with the other to turn the knob. “Pay the man,” he
ordered, grabbing both bags and dropping them to the floor inside the foyer.
Declan threw the wallet at the delivery man’s head,
reached over Lincoln’s shoulder, and slammed the door before returning to his
task with a needy groan. Threading his fingers through his lover’s hair, he
delved between Lincoln’s lips, leaving no crevice
unexplored.
“Now?” he begged. His dick ached, throbbing painfully
between his thighs as he rocked against his mate’s cobblestone abs like a bitch
in heat.
“Now,” Lincoln rumbled in response,
tripping toward the sofa and virtually throwing Declan down on the cushions.
Rummaging through the drawer of the end table while he
attempted to undress himself one-handed, Lincoln proved to be the ultimate
multi-tasker. Though distracted by the sight of his lover’s long, thick cock,
Declan still had enough sense about him to question the availability of the
lube Lincoln tossed onto the couch
beside him.
“You keep lube in the living room?” He held up the
clear, plastic bottle and arched an eyebrow.
“I live alone,” Lincoln answered as he dove on top
of him, insinuating himself between Declan’s legs. “Where else do you think I
watch porn?”
Behind the
Scenes
Q: What do you feel is the hardest part of the writing
process?
Knowing when to let go. With every story, I always think
there is something that could be just a little bit better. I could spend
forever tweaking my stories if I don’t stop myself, and then they’d never see
the light of day.
Q: How do you keep your characters and stories organized?
Whiteboards, spreadsheets, notes, tables, and just about
anything else I can find to write on. Plus, my betas are amazing at keeping me
organized and on track.
Q: Are you plot or character driven? Please elaborate.
That’s a hard one, and I really think it depends on the
story. If the characters come to me first, the story tends to follow the
personality of the characters. If I get an idea for a storyline before the
characters come to me, then that book is normally more plot driven. I suppose
you could say I’m versatile.
Q: What is the one thing you must have to be able to write?
Re-runs of some of my favorite shows on in the background.
I’ve watched them so many times, they don’t distract me. I can’t write when I’m
listening to music, and I can’t write with absolute silence. This seems to work
for me, though.
Q: Have you ever gotten writer’s block? How do you get
past it?
Yes, I absolutely have. Though, I prefer to think of it as
writer’s distress. I had stories in my head to be told, but I couldn’t
concentrate or focus long enough to get them down on paper. So, I took a leave
of absence, if you will, and gave the Muse some time to settle and recharge
before diving back into the writing pool.
Q: What are you currently working on? How is it different
from other books you’ve written?
Writing as Zayne Michaels is a lot like having another
personality. These stories tend to be darker, and things aren’t always tied up
in a nice pretty bow. I just finished the second book in the Once Upon a
Midnight Moon series, and am currently working on a M/M contemporary.
Q: When is your favorite time of day to write?
I usually take the graveyard shift when it comes to writing.
I’m not a morning person, and the earlier I wake up, the longer it seems to
take me to get moving. So, I usually sleep during the day and write during the
night when everyone else is sleeping.
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