Crymsyn Hart's Blog, page 5

Ever wonder what is truly hiding behind someone’s mask? Are they really who they say they are? And on a full moon, those questions become even more important because the question turns out to be are they what they say they are.

Today we have Siobhan Kinkade joining the blog with a post about her new re-release of Marked.

Once in a blue moon, a witch will get what she wants.

Events planner Tabitha Richardson had no idea what she signed on for when she picked up a job for New Orleans’ most eligible bachelor. Russell Tennyson also has a darker side. He is a werewolf, and the full moon is fast approaching. But he isn’t the only one with secrets to keep. Tabitha is harboring a big one right alongside her crush on Russell, and that secret is witchcraft.

It’s the evening of the Blue Moon Ball, a gathering of wolves, and Tabitha is the unsuspecting star of the show. Her attraction to Russell is surprising. When she decides to throw caution to the wind and indulge in her desires, she finds that she has bitten off much more than she can chew. The only question is, will she make it out alive?

“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Tennyson?”
“Russell,” he corrected, “and yes, I am.” He leaned close to her and inhaled deeply. Rather than moving away, he lingered for a moment, those sinful eyes locking on to hers in an almost challenge. What would have been a creepy move on anyone else was absolutely flattering coming
from him. “You smell delectable.”
Tabitha stifled a gasp. “Thank you?”
He chuckled as he righted himself. “You are very welcome.” He plucked the last glass from her tray and raised it toward her. “To a beautiful evening, prepared by a beautiful woman.” Tabitha giggled a bit maniacally and took a step backward, toward the kitchen. A large, neon sign in her mind pointed to him and blinked the word DANGER over and over again.
“Let me go refill this tray.”
“Wait.” He caught her wrist to stop her, and his skin nearly burned, it was so warm. “Miss Richardson.”
“Tabitha.”
“Tabitha.” His eyes were mesmerizing…she could easily get lost in them. “Dance with me first.” He spun her out to the side before she could respond, taking her fingers in the hand that held his glass and curling his other arm around her waist. She gasped, and he laughed, a deep, rich sound that vibrated all the way to her toes. They were close enough that her breasts brushed against his chest with each step he took. The scent of expensive cologne filled the air around her, and she fought not to press her nose to his throat and breathe him in. He smelled good. He looked good. She was willing to bet he tasted pretty good too.
Stop that right now!
He led her around and around to the center of the room, pulling her closer with each turn until she was pressed tightly against him from shoulder to knee. She felt like she was flying as he twisted and twirled her, that same low rumble of laughter shaking her on her feet, and it would take nothing at all for her to lean forward and press her lips to his….
The serving tray still tucked under her arm slipped, and she immediately snapped her out of her fantasy world.
Out. Of. Your. League.
Cera’s words rang in her head, clear as a bell. She withdrew from his arms with a mumbled apology, a little dizzy from the dance—or his nearness, she wasn’t sure which—and started back toward the ballroom doors. Russell was immediately beside her, catching her by the arm and
drawing her to a stop.
“Where are you going?” he asked, as breathless as she. Good to know she wasn’t the only one affected by their nearness. But not good as well…knowing his interest only magnified the inappropriateness. Cocking her hip to the side, she held the tray up between them and raised one eyebrow.
“You do remember that I’m the hired help?” she asked with a sardonic twist to her mouth.

Purchase Link: https://www.amazon.com/Marked-Siobhan-Kinkade-ebook/dp/B08DVD12JG/

Siobhan Kinkade originally started out as a Dungeons & Dragons character.

True story.

She was an obnoxious little blonde-haired, violet-eyed half-elf rogue who had a bad habit of screaming at random and stealing things from her fellow travelers. She was chaotic neutral, so it pretty much meant she never had to say she was sorry.

She made the transition from fantasy RPG character to fantasy literary character in 2011. S.H. Roddey wrote a story out of her usual genre, and she decided she needed a pen name rather than confuse her audience. Naturally, Siobhan stepped up and said she’d take the blame. Since then, Siobhan has learned to be a little less of a kamikaze even if she never grew out of being a walking calamity.

The romance is strong with this one. Some is sweet and some is spicy. It’s about half and half on the paranormal/contemporary fields, and all of it is quite good. Of course, if you were to ask Siobhan, she’d likely tell you that her creator didn’t have a thing to do with it.

Oh, and for those who aren’t sure, it’s pronounced Shi-von.

Website: http://siobhankinkade.wordpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSiobhanKinkade
FB Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/2181499065248034
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/siobhankinkade
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/siobhan-kinkade
Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/1235345680
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/draickinphoenix
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/j4o5o7

Holy Sh*t! I’m free.

I’m not sure I can believe it.

I’ve broken out of my author’s mind. I lovingly call it the asylum because a lot of craziness happens in there. She doesn’t keep me chained up or anything. Although, sometimes she shoves me into a padded cell with the other muses so she can’t hear us. I guess she does deserve some quiet time. When this happens, we end up partying and find a way to break out. Sometimes, me and the other muses, decide we need a bit of a weekend getaway. That usually turns into a weekend of entertainment and shenanigans. We party with all the vampires, angels, and ghosts who live in our author’s books. It can get pretty wild. But shh…we can’t let on to our author that we get drunk and run around naked. She still thinks we’re all sophisticated and sitting around collaborating on ideas.

Don’t get me wrong, we do sit around, but we’re all playing poker and munching on pizza. I get my best inspiration when I’ve had too many pot brownies. Our author doesn’t imbibe, but what goes on in her mind is a well kept secret.

The current ideas we have lined up for her piling up. It’s getting rather crowded in our cramped quarters, tucked away in the paradise of her thoughts. I have dreams about walking the yellow brick road and seeing where she can take characters from that story. Others about thieves who steal names. Knights who spring forth from Tarot cards to win the hand of the fair-haired maiden. I’ve heard rumblings from another muse. He has some inane idea about a green vampire alien. Doesn’t that sound crazy to you? Who comes up with such nonsense?

Of course, if you believe me, then you belong right here in the nuthouse with us because you know I’m not real. Or am I? The question always makes me ponder. Did my author will me into existence or did I exist outside of her and somehow find a home in her brain where I drive her crazy with my ideas?

I don’t know. It makes my head hurt if I think about it too much. I’m going to enjoy my freedom and see how you mortals live for a while. I think I deserve it, but don’t tell my author I’m free. She might just dream up something to drag me back. She’s partial to grim reapers so I’ll have to be careful.

Ta!

Raise your hand if you love writing blurbs?

Yeah… I can’t say that I do. I’m sure other authors are great at it. I’m not. The blurb has to be brief to describe the nature of the book, but it has to be witty enough to draw the potential reader in. It can’t reveal too much about the plot, but you have to give just the right amount of balance to make it sound intriguing. It’s a writer’s nightmare. Well, at least one of my nightmares anyway.

Yes, the dreaded blurb. How do I count the ways of how much I despise writing you? After over a 100 + books you would think I’d be a master at it. I think I’d prefer someone shoving wooden splinters underneath my fingernails. Or better yet pulling out my teeth with a rusty wrench. I cringe every time I have to write the description of a novel. Depending on the publishers I’ve had, they require blurbs to be as little as 150 words. Do you know how difficult it is to summarize a 300 page book in 150 words? Sure, I can agonize over it for day, but in the end, I finally think of the words to give a good balance for the theme and the characters.

After all the books that my muses have helped me create, I hate to think of what I need to write. How much do you talk about the hero? How much to put down about the heroine? Will the reader get what the book is about even with the blurb? These are all things that run through my head. And then, after you’ve written the dreaded blurb, the publisher changes it on you. Been there done that, but hey if they can write it better than me, I’m all for it.

I’ve gotten some great advice from other authors over the years. Mine have gotten tighter and shorter. I wouldn’t say I’m a professional now, but I’ve overcome numerous hurtles. So anyone that has to write a blurb, I wish you luck. Make it intriguing. Give it enough for the reader to open the book and want to delve into the story.

Writing blurbs can be done. Do you have the courage? A great example of a couple of mine are below for one of my print books for the Dragonkin Series. The formatter did a great job on fitting the blurbs for the series on the print cover. I might be able to write the blurb, but when it comes to the technical side of formatting and uploading. I rely on someone else.

We all know the new book by Stephenie Meyer is out, Midnight Sun. We return to the world of Twilight but only from Edward’s perspective. Where we learn how much he yearns not to kill the love of his life, Bella.

I admit I’ve been a fan of the vampire novels in some respects and not in others. I enjoy the aspects of the vampires being different with their different talents. And while reading from Edward’s perspective is great, the 600+ page novel didn’t have to be that long. It’s like I get it already you don’t want to kill the girl. She smells good. Can you fight the monster? Obviously, we know he does not kill Bella.

Overall the journey back to forks, let me satisfied. It leaves me to want to go back to reading the other books over and to also go back to writing my style of vampires. My kill and depending on the genre of the book don’t question who or what they are killing. It’s part of their nature. I did read that Ms. Meyer does have a couple more books planned in the series about other characters. I would certainly be interested in reading those to see where else she can go with the world.

Overall 3 out of 5 stars.

Music is a key thing to get me into the mood for a book. Heck, I’ve gotten so enamored on a song I’ve concocted a whole story it. Once the book is written, I have nothing to do with that song or artist for a few months because I’ve just over played them. I don’t particularly plan on who I am going to listen to during the day. I just put Spotify on shuffle and listen to whatever is on my liked songs list.

If I’m going to be writing dark fantasy, I like to listen to Nightwish or Kamelot or even some instrumental collections to bring me into the other world where dark elves and vampire fairies exist. If my muses decide they want to focus solely on vampires, then I break out Type O Negative, Concrete Blonde, or Moonspell  When I get down and dirty and into the action scenes or big fights, then I pop in Disturbed, Fever 333, or some of my favorite movie soundtracks. Queen of the Damned is up in my top ten. I also enjoy the Underworld Soundtracks, Resident Evil, Spider-man: Into the Spider-verse, and Blade so I can see the battle happening before me.  For other things it all depends. I’m not a huge fan of country or opera.

What bands help you get into the mood? Some authors post playlists for their books, is that something you like or would you choose your own play list if you could?

Here are a few of mine playlists if you want to give a listen:

Playlist 1 – For General stuff

Dark and Creepy Mood Music

Vampire Playlist

Today is my book birthday! Forest of Bones is out now available for everyone to read and enjoy. I’m very excited about this. The book took me over two years to write with crafting and all the drafts I went through not to mention the edits.

If you want a slightly different take on vampires and love magic and dark fantasy then go and check it out. Let me know what you think.

Kaya is the only one of her kind: a hybrid vampire and magician. A demon from days past is trying to free its banished brethren from the dark realms by an ancient sun god. Kaya is the key to freeing them.

Valik, her vampire protector, must help her contain the demon. Stavros, the mortal king, will kill any vampire he comes across because they caused the death of his wife and son. Begrudgingly, he takes Kaya as his fiancé. To stop a war, Stavros must join forces with the very thing he hates and keep the demon at bay.

Old ghosts are stirred up. Magic is growing wild. Mysteries from ages past resurface revealing more questions about Kaya’s heritage and how she’s entwined with the demon. Can she reconcile the past?

Or will the demon claim everything she holds dear, including her soul?

EXCERPT

Kaya stretched out her senses to the world around her. She nearly lost her balance as a strong source of magic enveloped her. The seam of power running through the Bone Forest grated along her spirit like coarse sand. It made her cringe and want to spread her wings and fly back toward the mountains. The magic in the mountains was lighter, almost pure, where this place was murky like a bloody river. In her mind’s eye, she saw a throbbing wound in the thread of power weaving through the forest. This seam was diseased. Pulses of darkness pushed along the vein,widening it to release more sickness into the environment.

“Kaya, did you hear what I said?”

She pulled away from the magical source and focused back on her friend. “Sorry. The magic here is…corrupt.”

“Of course, it is. This place is cursed. Vyrkola don’t come near here for a reason. Or the varaz for that matter. The Bone Forest became uninhabitable after your ancestor—” A breeze clattered the leaves together. Kaya caught the scent of blood from the distant battles that waged on.

“Hush.” The wind also brought something else with it: a trace of horses and other men.

“Why are we being quiet?” Adran whispered.

“Something’s coming.”

“Let them deal with it. You need to come back to the palace.”

Kaya jumped from the tree. Her form shrank. Feathers sprouted where skin and clothes had been. The tip of her tail skimmed the top of Adran’s head. Even in the tiny body of the grackle, the magic in the area impacted her. The draft fluffed her feathers as she rose above the trees to get a bird’s eye view of the land below. A band of ten sped toward the scouting party. An urgent desire to warn the men below gripped her. She couldn’t shake it. It didn’t make any rational sense, but something told her she had to try. Kaya dove through the trees and circled the campfire. The fire singed her feet. She pulled them closer to her body as she flew and ignored the brief pain. She darted toward the men to get their attention. They waved their arms and swatted at her. No matter how hard she tried, they only thought her an annoying bird. Frustrated, Kaya pushed back up to Adran and morphed back to human form. 

“Let’s go. You tried to warn them. Besides, I know you’re hungry. The dark circles under your eyes are a dead giveaway.”

BUY LINKS: Amazon

Also make sure to check out Check out this latest podcast from The Fiction Addiction Podcast talking about life, my books, and Forest of Bones

Once Upon a Time there lived a girl who tried and tried to be normal, but it never turned out that way no matter what she did….

Sorry got started off going down the wrong path on that one. I was actually going to dive into the craziness of my brain and what it means for me to be a writer. After following my own white rabbit down holes for many years and coming out the other side with a book, you would think I’d run out of ideas. Believe me, people have asked me where the inspiration comes from. Honestly, sometimes it’s from dreams, other times a song, or something in a movie or a book sparks the idea and I run with it.

A great example of that is my first series, Soul Reaper. I had this great dream about the two characters pretending to be something they weren’t. I had gone to New Orleans at the time, had the dream ther,e and wrote the first book, Masquerade, in six weeks. It was crazy, even for me, but all the pieces came together. Before I knew it, I had my first horror series- don’t let the covers fool you. From that series one of my long standing characters was born, Azrael, the angel of death. And what is death if he can’t hop universes? Death is everywhere so he’s been in at least twenty-five books by now. He was a plot twist I never saw coming.

Many authors I know outline their books. They are plotters. Others, like me, are pantsers. You know, white rabbit running amok, leading me down places I had no idea where the story would go. For me this works most of the time. It’s how I wrote my first draft of Forest of Bones. After going through the finished draft, the glaring holes and the connections I tried to make weren’t working. So I starting outlining chapter by chapter what had to be done and what dots had to be connected. Kinda doing it backward, right? On the fourth draft, I had a working book, a map of the world, and an even better understanding of the characters. On the fifth draft, it was ready to go. The book took me five months to write and then two years off and on to edit and fix.

You’re reading this and going… wasn’t there a promise of a free story? Yes there is. I wanted to share a bit about my twisting mind. I joke about the white rabbit, but sometimes that what plot bunnies are. They pop up out of no where. I follow them into their burrow trying to wind my way to the end. Usually I know the beginning and ending of a book. It’s the journey that makes it fun. If someone tells you there is only on way to write, I would disagree. There are many just keep writing until the story comes out. No matter if you outline or if you follow your own rabbit.

This story is a little ghost story I wrote a while back called Legend Tripping. The idea of the title came from a paranormal show I was watching at the time. Give it a read. It’s all in fun. Let me know what you think.

Six months after getting married, on Christmas Eve, hubby walked through the door with a black 5 week old fur ball. She was our Christmas present and neither of us were ready for her. It was our first real responsibility together. Sure, I’d grown up with all different kinds of dogs. We had a Basset Hound that escaped the house and wandered downtown, got caught jaywalking and brought back by the local cops several times and eating all my crayons so his poop was rainbow colored. Mom had a Maltese that ate the Thanksgiving turkey. My stepdad had a pair of Rottweilers that pounced on the rats in our backyard. So I was used to dogs, but yeah…what a way she changed our life. We named the little fluff ball Morrigaine.

Three years later, we adopted a Border Collie/Lab mix named Cadence who didn’t have a care in the world. She still doesn’t. She wantd love and to play ball. It took a while for Morrigaine and Cadence to get along, but they did.

Having a moment, I dragged hubby down to the pound. Call it thinking ahead, or raging hormones, I thought it would be good to have another dog. I know…three what was I thinking? Morrigaine was 9 and slow to get around. She didn’t much care about anything always being timid and shy, but she was our baby sleeping with us. At the pound, hubby wasn’t enthusiastic about getting another dog, but we–mostly me–decided to bring home a new puppy.

That’s how Briar came into the picture. Three dogs. Two alphas–the years of fighting we endured between Cadence and Briar weren’t fun. Not to mention Briar had been abused before we got her. She’s better, but still timid in many ways. Although, she’ll defend the yard. Briar’s a German Pointer/Whippet Mix so she’s fast and crazy on any day.

It came time we had to say goodbye to Morrigaine. That was three years ago and yeah… still not fun. Cadence is twelve and a half, but we play ball even with her arthritis. Briar has mellowed some. But over all I’m the MOMMA!

Dog hair is rampant. I trip over toys. They try to help me write my books by laying on my computer. They smother me with kisses and try to steal all of the peanut butter. But they’re my kids and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Unless you can find someway to rescue me… No seriously, they have me surrounded. They follow me to the bathroom and always inspect my food before I eat it, and even bathe me.

Help! I’m a dog mom. I’m not sure anyone can save me from the furries.

Now that my website has been moved and updated completely. I don’t need to inundate the world with all of my book posts. I figured I’d write a little about myself and how my life has influenced my books.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer as along as I can remember. Books and my imagination were the escape I needed to get away from the stress of my life. Yeah we all have “stuff”. I get that. However, “my stuff” included the paranormal from a young age.

The first thing I saw was when I was three. It was a two foot, green gremlin with long sharp claws, smiling at me from the hallway of my grandparents house. I didn’t see anything else until I was older–the head of a man staring at me through the upstairs banister. Where he was standing, he would have had to be 7 or 8 feet tall for me to see his face. Again at my grandparents house.

As I got older, I realized I could see and sense stuff about other people that I shouldn’t know. I lived in a few more haunted spaces, but those are stories for another time. When I was eighteen, I found a mentor who helped me sort out all the psychic stuff. He owned a psychic salon in Boston. He brought me in for an interview and two days after graduating high school, I started working at the Tremont Tearoom. The staff there became my second family while I worked on my undergraduate degree in Creative Writing at Emerson College. Sadly, my mentor passed and it’s left a hole. Although, he drops into my dreams now and again.

I stopped working at the Tearoom a year after college. Life became normal as it can be. I moved south to NC, met my husband, and all the while I was writing. Then one day I was picked up by an e-publisher, who is no longer around, but it made my dream come true. I was a published author. That was 15 years ago roundabouts. All the years later and over 100 books, I’m still going. Sometimes I wonder if I should stop, but I keep on trucking.

So that’s a bit about me.

The Devil has finally come to collect his dues. Cassie tries to run from his wiles, but finds him as irresistible as all the tales she has heard. Soon she is under his spell and the longer she is, the more she loses her soul. There is only one way for Cassie to retain her wings and save her soul.

Will she discover it in time, or will Lucifer claim her for his bride?

EXCERPT

A soft chuckle landed on my ears, surrounding me. The brush of wings caught the side of my cheek. I turned quickly. There was no one behind me. A shadow moved. The perfume of sulfur receded when I peered into the shadows.

“Cassie. So beautiful. So full of life. I see why both protect you.” His voice had the hint of an accent. It was layered to my ears with deeper tones and whisper trails. The tenor was cold and yet it seemed his breath scorched the back of my neck.

Turning around quickly again, I checked the church for the intruder. He was not there. “Show yourself.”

“Why should I, Cassie? You’re the new Death. You should be able to find me wherever you are. We’re tied together, you and I.”

My power lashed out. The pews slammed together and others pounded the back wall. The sapphire blue cushions flopped on the floor. I wasn’t one to be messed around with. I’d had enough.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

Hands wound underneath my arms. They cupped my breasts. A jolt of intense heat caressed my spine where his body pressed against mine. I should have tried to get away. I should have screamed. I should have. It means the same as what if. A statement and a question overused in the human language. The phrase marched through my mind. Tristan and Daniel were outside trying to liberate me. But I didn’t need to be rescued. I turned in my captor’s embrace. My eyes locked to his. I was amazed at his beauty. I never thought the Devil would be so magnificent.

BUY LINKS

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