Karina Halle's Blog

I’m so excited to finally get to show you the Love, in Spanish cover. Oh Mateo! I want to thank all of the blogs and fans who participated in the cover reveal event hosted by InkSlinger PR! Also, thanks to Naj Qamber Designs for the cover design, as well as Scott Hoover for the photo.

If you haven’t seen this cover, check it out below! You can also get a glimpse into the book by reading the included excerpt at the bottom of this post as well.

RELEASE DATE: NOVEMBER 11, 2014

 

BLURB:
“She sat beside me on the bus – and she changed my whole life.” 

Successful, wealthy and absurdly handsome – Spanish ex-football player Mateo Casalles seemed like he had it all. A high-society wife, an adorable little girl, and flashy apartments in Madrid and Barcelona only sweetened the deal. But there was more to Mateo than met the eye – a life of uncertainty and regret that colored his black and white world. 

That was until Vera Miles came into his life like a shooting star. Tattooed, wild and young, Vera seemed like Mateo’s polar opposite at first. But you can’t choose who you fall in love with and the two lost souls did everything they could to be together, all while suffering the grave consequences. 

Now with Mateo divorced and living in Madrid with Vera, there is a whole new set of challenges and setbacks facing the couple and rocking the foundation of their star-crossed relationship. 

Unfortunately for them, the brighter the star, the faster they burn. 

***Love, in Spanish contains the first two chapters of Where Sea Meets Sky, a full-length Love, in English spinoff starring Vera’s brother, Josh Miles, coming March 2015 from Atria Books***

ADD TO GOODREADS

PRE-ORDER NOW
AMAZON



EXCERPT

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

 I turn in my chair and give Vera a curious look. Yet another English saying that I don’t know. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

 She gives me a soft but tired smile and sits down on the arm rest. I immediately wrap my arm around her waist and pull her down into my lap, where she comes to a rest with a giggle, her hair obscuring the impish smile on her face. No matter where she is, I can never stop touching her and now more than ever I need her to relax, to feel safe, to know I’m going to get us out of this.

 “Explain,” I demand. “Or I will punish you with kisses.”

 She raises her brow. “Followed by punishment by penis?”

 I shrug. “That can be arranged. Now, tell me my Estrella.”

 She sighs and buries her lips into my neck. I can’t help the small moan that escapes from me, nor my hardness building beneath her plump, round ass. I close my eyes and fight the urge to pick her up and take her to the bedroom, the only other way I know how to make her feel safe and sated, the only way I know how to escape.

 “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” she says against my throat, “is a saying. I don’t know where it’s from but it means, well, nothing is scarier than a pissed off bitch.” She pauses, sucking in her breath and I know she fears she’s said the wrong thing. “Sorry,” she quickly adds and I feel her body tense up beneath my fingers. “I didn’t mean that Isabel is a bitch.”

 She is still so skittish over her words, the way she blurts things out, but it’s one of the reasons why I love her. I cup the back of her head with my hand and let the softness of her hair sink over me. “I know you didn’t,” I assure her. “And, well, she is being a bitch.”

 “Can you blame her though?” she asks, her voice rising a pitch and when she pulls away from me, her eyes are wet. It breaks my heart. I’m getting tired of my heart breaking and I know that this isn’t going to change anytime soon. Every day there is another weight on us, another crack appears.

 “No,” I tell her honestly. “I cannot blame her.”

 A silence lapses over us, heavy like a wool cloak. It does this sometimes. What we’ve done, it coats us.

 Finally she clears her throat. “She’s going to hurt for a long time,” she says. “She’s going to be angry. This isn’t going away. I thought everything was behind us now, that she’d move on. You’ve been divorced for a year, if she’s still this mad a year out…”

 “She is mad because I am going back to Atletico,” I tell her. “She is mad because of the paparazzi, the way they are hounding us again. She is mad because she feels she is being made to look like a fool. If I had just stayed with my head down, she wouldn’t be doing this.”

 “But you can’t live your life in fear, Mateo,” she tells me.

 I smile at her and brush her sunset hair from her face. “And neither can you.”

 She settles back against my body, sinks, conforms, melds. She is second skin. She is a part of myself I can’t bear to separate from. I pray I never have to. I pray we can survive whatever is coming our way.

 And I can feel it coming, that tension, that storm rolling in the weeks and days.

 I pick her up in my arms and for all her pillowy curves, she weighs nothing more than a feather. I take her down the hall to the bedroom, throw her on the bed. She glows in the afternoon sun that streams in through our window and it isn’t long before we are both naked and I am climbing over her, pinning her arms above her head and drinking in her body like the most beautiful, decadent wine.

 I will devour her until all of this is gone.

 I will consume her until we are all that’s left.

 I push inside her and let my hunger take over.

It all started with Love, in English

He’s thirty-eight. I’m

twenty-three.He speaks Spanish.

I speak English.He lives in Spain.

I live in Canada.

He dresses in

thousand-dollar suits. I’m covered in tattoos.

He’s married and

has a five-year old daughter.

I’m single and

can’t commit to anyone or anything.

Until now. Because

when they say you can’t choose who you fall in love with, boy ain’t that the

f*#king truth.

***

To a restless

dreamer like Vera Miles, it sounded like the experience of a lifetime. Instead

of spending her summer interning for her astronomy major, she would fly to

Spain where she’d spend a few weeks teaching conversational English to

businessmen and women, all while enjoying free room and board at an isolated

resort. But while Vera expected to get a tan, meet new people and stuff herself

with wine and paella, she never expected to fall in love.

Mateo Casalles is

unlike anyone Vera has ever known, let alone anyone she’s usually attracted to.

While Vera is a pierced and tatted free spirit with a love for music and

freedom, Mateo is a successful businessman from Madrid, all sharp suits and

cocky Latino charm. Yet, as the weeks go on, the two grow increasingly close

and their relationship changes from purely platonic to something…more.

Something that

makes Vera feel alive for the first time.

Something that can

never, ever be.

Or so she thinks

BUY LINKS:

AMAZON

B&N

iTunes

 

And the winner is…
ITALY!

Thanks to all your votes, it looks like Book #2 for Atria Books/Simon and Schuster will be set on the AMALFI COAST OF ITALY (plus the neighboring islands)! But me and my tireless assistant/book blogger Stephanie will be traveling there in October for research, and we want to (virtually) bring YOU with us! This is going to totally be a live, interactive trip with daily blog posts, video, photos of hot Italian men of the day (rough life we have!) AND YOU the reader get to pick what activities we do and places we go! So once again, you’ll get to help us CHOOSE THE ADVENTURE, and hopefully those places will end up in the book!

Ready for a GIVEAWAY?

As I mentioned before, YOU are going to help us choose where we go, and what we do while we are in Italy. Starting this weekend (Sept 19th), I will have a post on my Facebook page where you can vote (by leaving a comment on the pinned Facebook post on my author page). Each day that you vote, you will be entered to win one of our mystery grand prize packs! (This will contain some special items from our travels to Italy that YOU help to vote for!–We want to bring Italy to you!)

Sound like fun?

Stay tuned to my Facebook Page for updates once this giveaway goes live this Friday (9/19/14)! Once again, thank you for all your continued support!

To celebrate THE END of the Experiment in Terror series AND the release of Dust to Dust on August 11th, I’ve put together a FB group for an EPIC readalong. Tomorrow we discuss Darkhouse, Red Fox and Dead Sky Morning then we devote two days per Lying Season, On Demon Wings, etc (check group for sched). I will be chatting with you at times during the day about the books in discussion and there are contests, special posts, etc as well. DO NOTE: it is a private group to prevent spoilers from reaching the outside world. It could take a few hours for you to be added and also, please, once in, do not add people who HAVE NOT read the series. This is just for people are currently reading EIT or have already read it. Now…who is excited?!

Want to join the Facebook group?

Do so –>HERE

Hey folks! There’s a bit of a hiccup with the release date of Dust to Dust, the final book in the Experiment in Terror series. It’s being pushed back two weeks, from July 29 to August 11th. Why? Well as you know I’ve been traveling for the last three weeks for book signings in Orlando and Europe and due to jetlag and my busy schedule I was not able to write as much as planned. As such, I’m a bit behind and have no desire to rush through this book (plus I caught some author bug that sidelined me for my first few days back). Also, the new release date benefits my UK publishers, Little Brown, and allows for less scrambling on their end too. No worries tho — I’m currently writing the book and it’s on it’s way, I’d just rather have some extra time with it since it is the LAST EIT book after all.

The extra time will let you read Ashes to Ashes again, something I recommend before reading Dust to Dust. In fact, reading Come Alive again will help too and for any reason if you have not read the novellas The Dex-Files and Old Blood, please do so as both books contain important information about the series which will be revealed in Dust to Dust.

Thanks for understanding! I hope to get some teasers and chapters to share with you soon

Fabulous news!  Take a look at that teaser and tell me what has changed?

The new release date for Love, in English is April 20th — two days early!

But that’s Easter Sunday, you all say. I won’t be home or near a computer, you all say.

No worries — YOU CAN PRE-ORDER!

On Amazon –> CLICK HERE

On Barnes & Noble —-> CLICK HERE

On iTunes —-> CLICK HERE

And on KOBO…er, coming soon!

And paperback pre-order on Amazon! Also coming soon

Still unsure about the book or want more information? Well, I did a Q&A about it including answering that “GOLDEN QUESTION” — you can read it here.

Love, in English

This is not suspense or horror or a series. It is 100% standalone, pure NA contemporary romance! Pub date: April 22, 2014

Synopsis:

He’s thirty-eight. I’m twenty-three.

He speaks Spanish. I speak English.

He lives in Spain. I live in Canada.

He dresses in thousand-dollar suits. I’m covered in tattoos.

He’s married and has a five-year old daughter.

I’m single and can’t commit to anyone or anything.

Until now.Because when they say you can’t choose who you fall in love with, boy ain’t that the f*#king truth.

***

To a restless dreamer like Vera Miles, it sounded like the experience of a lifetime. Instead of spending her summer interning for her astronomy major, she would fly to Spain where she’d spend a few weeks teaching conversational English to businessmen and women, all while enjoying free room and board at an isolated resort. But while Vera expected to get a tan, meet new people and stuff herself with wine and paella, she never expected to fall in love.

Mateo is unlike anyone Vera has ever known, let alone anyone she’s usually attracted to. While Vera is a pierced and tatted free spirit with a love for music and freedom, Mateo Casales is a successful businessman from Madrid, all sharp suits and cocky Latino charm. Yet, as the weeks go on, the two grow increasingly close and their relationship changes from purely platonic to something…more.

Something that makes Vera feel alive for the first time.

Something that can never, ever be.

Or so she thinks.

 

*unedited* EXCERPT!

The silence crackled above our heads like a live wire. I could feel Jorge’s eyes on us as he reluctantly placed Mateo’s drink on the table and walked away. Part of me wished for him to come back, to break up the tension and the startling intensity in Mateo’s eyes. The other part was selfishly glad Jorge was leaving us in peace. When he disappeared back into the restaurant, Mateo and I were the only ones on the patio.

I broke away from his eyes, focusing instead on his bottle of Aguila and the condensation that ran down the sides, looking blissfully cool in the sticky night air. Through all the weeks of joking, talking, the innocent physical contact, now I was astutely nervous about being alone with him. It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of him – I was afraid of me. Ever since that remark at dinner, I’d been afraid of what I’d do to him, how I’d break that moral code I promised for myself.

He’s married, he’s married, he’s married, I told myself, watching a drop of water race from the beer to the table. His wife is beautiful and lovely, his daughter is sweet and you aren’t either of those things.

But I could only tell myself that so many times.

“Vera,” he said thickly. “Vera, look at me.” His voice was commanding, reaching a depth I hadn’t heard before.

My eyes slowly slid over to him. I tried to speak but could only suck in my lip, probably taking all my lipstick off.

“Show me the stars again,” he said. His eyes speared me like nothing else, his face becoming dangerously handsome.

I looked up to the clear sky, to see the stars, but he reached out and grabbed my hand. His touch was hot, like his fingers were searing into my skin, that feeling of entering a hot tub on a cold night. I couldn’t help the shiver that ran gently down my spine.

“Not those stars,” he said huskily, leaning forward. His lips were wet and slightly open. “Your stars. Why I call you Estrella.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse burning along. I turned around in my chair so my back was to him and lifted up my hair, gathering it on the top of my head.

His chair scraped loudly on the ground as he got up, a sound that struck a new kind of fear in me.

No. Not fear.

Anticipation.

I heard him stop right behind me. I held my breath, wondering what he was going to do.

One rough finger pressed down against the back of my neck, right on the spine where the tattoo began. I closed my eyes to the feeling, the currents it caused, traveling all the way down, making me wet. Jesus, I needed to get a hold of myself.

“What star is this?” he asked, sounding like silk. I could wrap myself in his voice.

“Alpharatz,” I whispered, as if I was letting him in on a secret. Maybe I was.

His finger slid diagonally down, a trail of fire across the Pegasus line. “And this one?”

“Markab.”

“Why Pegasus?”

I paused, the truth on my lips. Fuck it. We’d been nothing but honest with each other. “Because I want to fly free. And there’s no place higher than the stars.”

He didn’t say anything for a few beats. I was tempted to turn around, to look at him, but I didn’t want him to take his finger off my neck. I was leaving in three days. He was going back to his family. This was all I had, his skin on my stars.

He leaned in, his hot breath at my neck. “Are you afraid that love will clip your wings?”

His words sank into me, making my blood buzz. Love. This was too hazardous a subject to discuss with him, not now. Not ever. With my breath shaking, I inched my neck away from his mouth and turned to face him.

“No,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “I’m afraid that losing love will.”

His expression softened. He looked at my lips, his beautifully long eyelashes casting shadows on his tawny skin.

“Then that makes two of us,” he whispered softly and for a long second I thought he was going to get it over with and finally kiss me, put an end to this strain between us, the yearning that made me ache inside. But he straightened up, his gaze avoiding mine, and went to retrieve his beer from the table.

 

This year I decided to do something different. I know how tight money can be for everyone after the holiday season and I know I needed a bit of a kick in the ass to start writing after taking a month off. I also know a lot of you were curious about my writing process. So I came up with something very “ballsy” but freeing as well for me and something that I hope you’ll all enjoy.

I’m writing a novella/short story (around 20K words) on Wattpad. It’s free for anyone to read. Every time I press “save” it actually publishes the story. I’m just writing and publishing as I go. No editors. No rough draft. This IS my rough draft. You are seeing all my mistakes LIVE (haha, oh how exciting). And, to shake things up even more, I’m not even writing as I normally do. For every single book I write out and plot in detail — a skeleton keeps me in line and gives me a place to shoot for.

But while I have a rough idea in my head about this story and how I want it to go, I haven’t officially plotted it out. This is the closest to just writing by the seat of my pants as I’ll get.

Which is freeing as well…also, terrifying. I miss my chapter by chapter breakdowns and my outlines but because this is such a short story, I’m hoping I can get by.

But hey — so far people seem to be enjoying it. If you want to join in on the event and watch as I write (I have the first two chapters down), visit: http://www.wattpad.com/34268226-dark-paradise

The story is called Dark Paradise. In it’s edited, sculpted final form it will be in Kindle as part of Madeline Sheehan’s up coming anthology to profit women and children’s services (so when you do get a chance to buy it, it’s going to a great cause).

Hope you’ll all join me on this journey! I’m about 25% through so it’s a great time to follow me to this Dark Paradise.

Ashes to Ashes (coming Dec 11th)

Unedited

 

Chapter One

 

It’s been two months since I first told Dex Foray that I loved him. Two months since we’ve lived together, as an actual couple, in his Seattle apartment. And two months since Rebecca Sims joined us as our welcomed third wheel in the Experiment in Terror show. It goes without saying that they’ve been the best two months of my life.

But, like most things, it hasn’t been perfect. My relationship with my family is now awkward as all hell—I mean more so than it used to be, and that says a lot. I’ll talk to my mom and dad maybe every two weeks, and it’s just one of those please shoot me in the head kind of moments where you’re grasping for shit to say and your mouth is moving and suddenly you’re talking about the weather or the latest celebrity scandal or things you can’t even remember just to keep the conversation going, just so it doesn’t lag and you don’t have to address the giant flaming pink rollerblading elephant in the room.

Yeah … about that giant flaming pink rollerblading elephant. That would be that I left my parent’s house, where I had spent most of my twenty-three years, and decided to move in with my partner.  Dex. The guy that my parents absolutely hated because I had an ill-timed fling with him back when he had a girlfriend (no judging), and he turned into a dick right after I slept with him (please no judging), and I ended up miscarrying his baby (okay, the judging is inevitable). I’m not saying any of that lightly because it pretty much ruined the fabric of my being and introduced demonic possession into my life experiences, but I mean, you can kind of understand why my parents think Dex Foray is public enemy number one.

Obviously, they don’t approve of my new life. I can tell that from the things they aren’t saying and the questions they aren’t asking. They don’t even wonder when or if I’m coming home; it’s just such a non-issue that it’s become an issue. At least for me. I want them to care. I want them to say something, even if it’s just to scream at me.

The only person that I talk to truthfully on a daily basis (even if it’s just mainly through texts) is my younger sister Ada. She’s happy for me, happy that things are going well with Dex (even though she often starts the conversation with, “You guys still together? Yes? Okay cool,”) but she doesn’t pull back from telling me how badly she wants me to come back home, even just for a visit.

The thing is, I’m totally scared. One part of me wants to go back, to try and smooth things over and make things right. Maybe if they see Dex again, months later and in a better context, they’ll learn to like him. To see the things I see. To see how well he treats me. And I want to see Ada and hug her and make her feel like she doesn’t have to face my parents alone. But the other half of me thinks it could be a mistake—that they’d never open up to him, and I’d regret even trying to make amends. I could make things worse.

I needed a sign.

“Ouch, Jesus,” I swore at the stabbing pain at my wrist. I glared up at the burly, bearded tattoo artist who was glaring back at me.

“Try not to flinch,” he said gruffly, his gloved hand hovering over my bared wrist.

“You’re almost done, honey,” Rebecca said in her soothing British accent, patting my other hand. “Few more minutes. Looks fab.”

I sighed and tried to relax my body. Now that I wasn’t daydreaming, everything was very real. I was with Rebecca, lying on my back in a Seattle tattoo parlor, getting some ink on my wrist. My first tattoo, and though it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, it was still extremely uncomfortable. It probably didn’t help that it was on one of the more sensitive areas. I was just lucky I decided to go with one color of ink—blue—instead of getting it filled in.

Oh yeah, I was getting a tattoo of an anchor. Cliché, I know, but I got it for Dex. After all, he had a tattoo inspired by me on his shoulder, and I figured it was only fair. And, you know, he was my anchor. When he’d given me the anchor silly band back on D’Arcy Island, that stupid little gesture meant so much to me. Then, when I’d ripped it off after, well, the “incident,” I’d missed that symbol. Through all the ups and downs we’d gone through, in the end, he was still my rock. And an anchor was a hell of a lot sexier than getting a big ass boulder tatted on you.

“He’s going to be so surprised,” Rebecca said as the tattoo machine resumed its buzzing.

I ground my teeth together against the vibrating prickles. “Uh huh. I hope so.”

I asked Rebecca to accompany me here so I wouldn’t have to go through it alone. I wanted it to be a surprise for Dex, so I just told him we were going out and doing girly things. I know his dirty mind was probably imagining us heading to some International Pillow-Fighting Convention, and a tattoo parlor was the last place he’d think of. I wasn’t really the tattoo type—my interests in life were so wavering and fleeting, but my love for Dex was as permanent as ink. I wanted him to know that.

“Okay, you’re done,” the man said, lifting away the needle, the room growing temporarily quiet without the constant buzz.

“For real?”

He grunted in response and motioned for me to sit up. I slowly did so and stared at my left wrist. It wasn’t bleeding like I thought it would be since I’d felt him periodically dabbing it with cloth as he worked. The tattoo was shiny and raised, the skin around it red, but it looked beautiful. Simple but beautiful. And I suddenly felt infinitely cooler.

I looked up at Rebecca for her approval as the artist started wrapping it in black plastic. Her matte red lips were stretched into a smile, her eyes sparkling with delight. In fact, she looked borderline ecstatic which I found almost odd.

“He’s going to love it,” she said. “Really, really. It’s going to mean so much to him.”

I smiled. “Good.”

It’s not that Dex didn’t know how I felt about him. After what happened to us in New Orleans, and how he’d almost died right before my eyes and I almost lost him in so many ways, I’d had verbal diarrhea of the lovey-dovey kind. But for some reason, at times I could tell it was hard for Dex to believe me. When I told him I loved him, he had a knack for turning it into a joke, like, “You say that to all the boys,” and while he played it off in his cheeky way, I could tell it came from somewhere. I hoped the tattoo would ease that for him.

Like I said, they’d been the best two months of my life, but things weren’t perfect. It’s hard to truly appreciate things when somewhere in the back of your mind you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I swung my legs off the table, admiring even the black plastic around my wrist. That, combined with my new twelve-hole forest green Doc Martens and my leather jacket that was too hot for the surprisingly warm May weather, I felt better than I had in weeks. See, along with the whole impeding feeling of doom that I couldn’t shake (and I had no idea what it was about either), I’d gained some weight after moving in with Dex. I could blame his diet all I wanted, but the fact was he ate fairly well and still went to the gym every day, so there goes that excuse. I knew they were “happy pounds,” like the in-love equivalent of the freshman fifteen, but it still had me a bit bummed out. Dex loved me the way I was, but I still felt like I had to be something he could show off, something like his ex-girlfriend Jenn. I’d lost the shape I worked hard for over Christmas, and I always had that fear one day he’d realize I wasn’t good enough for him.

“Come on,” Rebecca said, tugging on my arm toward the cash register. “Let’s get you home to your man.” She clicked her way over to the counter in her sky-high red heels, her small ass sashaying in her pencil skirt. Rebecca was the opposite of me. Since she and Emily broke up, she’d been doing nothing but losing weight, something she didn’t need to begin with.

It didn’t help that when we had our last meeting with Jimmy Kwan at Shownet over Experiment in Terror, he brought up the fact that Rebecca should be in front of the camera. He wasn’t trying to boot me off, so he said, but that two hot girls were better than one. Luckily Rebecca refused, saying she was only good as a production manager and that her days of hosting ended when Wine Babes did. And even though Rebecca was his good friend, Dex agreed. I probably would have hit him if he didn’t.

Ever since we’d come back from New Orleans, we’d done about five shows together as a “threesome.” It wasn’t until the fourth show—investigating the haunted town of St. Augustine in Florida—that we really found our rhythm and clicked. Though filming hadn’t changed much, Dex and I had to adjust to a more regimented schedule, running on Rebecca’s time now and not our own. I had to admit it helped—we never wasted too much time in one space, and we were always in the most opportune areas, but there was a learning curve all the same. We had to stop being “Perry and Dex” and remember that Rebecca was counting on us as well. Then there was the fact that Rebecca wasn’t, well, she wasn’t like us. She rarely saw anything supernatural, and I know it started to bug her too when Dex and I would be freaking out or talking to ghosts, and she’d be staring at nothing. By the fifth episode, a haunted library in Eureka, Rebecca decided she’d only be around the actual filming when we needed a hand—otherwise she’d be somewhere else and leave the ghosts to us.

“I wonder where we’re filming next,” Rebecca commented as we walked down the street to her car.

I shot her an odd look, wondering if she’d heard my thoughts. I still had this tendency to project my thoughts and lately I’d been picking up on other people’s. It usually happened with Dex, though on occasion I’d find it in some random person. But Rebecca had never been on the receiving end of Perry telepathy. At least not yet.

“Did you hear what I was thinking?” I asked.

She smiled. “No, and believe me, the day I hear you, you’ll know. It’s just we both know that Dex is having that meeting with Jimmy today. I’m assuming it won’t be about me being a host since I nearly ripped him a bloody new one. Hopefully it will be another assignment.” She unlocked the door to her hatchback and I got in in the passenger seat. “I mean, it’s been three weeks since we returned from California and I know the library episode wasn’t a complete disaster.”

I nodded as she took us out of the Queen Anne district and headed back to downtown Seattle. I rubbed the plastic over my tattoo, wanting to peek at it again but having to restrain myself. “I know. It’s like I know there are tons of paranormal hot spots all over the country—more now than ever, according to websites.”

She brought out a cigarette and rolled down the window before lighting it. “I sent a bunch of suggestions to Jimmy too, but I think after Florida, he wants to keep us closer to home.”

“Because he’s cheap.”

She exhaled a cloud of blue smoke. “I guess having a sponsor didn’t really help.”

“At least it’s paying for your salary. We didn’t have that before.”

She gave me a shy glance. “So you’re saying you don’t totally resent me for being on the show with you?”

I looked at her incredulously. “What? No! What makes you say that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel like the third wheel sometimes.”

“You are the third wheel,” I said. She gave me a half smile and I quickly continued. “Meaning, you’re the wheel. You steer us, you keep us going in the right direction. Yeah, it’s different for me and Dex, but sometimes I think it’s because our relationship has changed too. Everything is different from the way it used to be and that’s not a bad thing. Thanks to you, the shows are tighter and we’re not wasting as much money, and Jimmy doesn’t yell at us as much. The shows look better too—just having you around to put up a second light or whatever. Seriously, Becs, you’re awesome. You’re the reason Dex and I can still do this. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Well, you’re way more fun to work with than Jenn,” she said. “Though that’s a given.”

Sometimes I’d forgotten that Dex started out at Shownet by being the cameraman for Wine Babes, filming Jenn and Rebecca as they talked about pairing certain wines with McShit from McDonalds. That’s how he hooked up with that bitch to start with. I tried to shrug off the questions, wanting to ask Rebecca what they were like when filming together versus the way Dex and I are. I was under the impression that they were off humping like bunnies every time they worked together, and though Dex and I weren’t that different, I think he was slightly more professional around me. Which was good…right?

I rubbed my lips together, keeping my mouth shut, and sat back as Rebecca put Lana Del Ray on her stereo. I let the music rush over me and fidgeted in anticipation of Dex’s reaction to my tattoo. I really hoped he wasn’t going to think it was too much. Sure, we’d been together for two months as an actual couple, but things were still so fresh and new for us in so many ways.

So I asked on Facebook if readers would like a creepy, cute or sexy teaser and it seems like creepy one won this round! Glad to see everyone is ready to be scared because, I gotta tell ya, it’s creeping the shit out of me having to write this.

BUT the other choices were a close second…so before I hit publish in about 8 days, I’ll also release a sexy one and a cute one. Sound good? Good!

UNEDITED AND SUBJECT TO CHANGE

ASHES TO ASHES — EIT #8

TEASER

WARNING

I’M A TEASE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, let’s go,” I said. “We don’t have all night.”

He nodded and aimed the camera in front of him. “I’m assuming the tunnel runs diagonally along the length of the building. The very top probably lets out above the far corner of the west wing.”

I felt the darkness sitting on either side of us, the chill of the tunnel seeping into my clothes. I quickly jabbed Dex in the back. “Hey, we’ll worry about that later. Let’s just get to the second floor.” It never left my mind for one second that the ball had rolled somewhere behind us, toward the end of the chute, and there was no telling if the thing that kicked it there had gone after it or not.

In other words, I didn’t know what was worse – the void in front of us or the black emptiness behind us.

Thank god I was sandwiched between the two of them as we carefully made our way up the passageway. I felt all my senses on fire as we went, my eyes happy to be watching my feet instead of the unknown that lay in front of Dex and his camera. The only sounds were our footsteps, echoing faintly from the closed-in walls, and the raggedness of our breath.

“Everyone holding up back there?” Dex whispered. As if he couldn’t feel me hanging onto the back of his jacket like a little kid.

“Uh, huh,” I managed to say, my mouth dry.

We waited to hear Rebecca’s response but she didn’t say anything, though I could feel her breath and presence at my back.

“Feeling claustrophobic yet?” I prodded her for an answer. When she still didn’t say anything, I dared to look behind me.

Despite feeling her breath a second ago, I could barely see her. She’d stopped in the middle of the tunnel, about ten feet away, her figure backlit faintly from the residual light of the hallway.

“R-Rebecca?” I asked, my voice shaking. I stopped and pulled Dex back. He immediately shone his light on her.

“Are you all right?” Dex asked. “Why are you being creepy?”

“Shhh,” she said softly. “I’m listening.”

“To what?” I whispered as goosebumps prickled my arms.

She didn’t say anything but remained absolutely still. I could hear my own heart thudding in my chest, Dex’s breathing, the whir of the camera as it tried to focus.

I was about to ask again what on earth we were listening for when I finally heard it.

It was a few notes of music. But more specific than that; it was a xylophone, like the kind I used to play around with as a child. I held in a gasp as my brain tried to recognize the faint melody in it. The notes would come and go, as if being swept away by an imaginary breeze, so the song never felt fully formed.

“Ring around the rosy,” Dex said in a low voice. I turned to look at him, wincing at the light he was holding in his other hand. “Listen.”

He was right. I could pick out the tune and once I did, I got pummeled with that get the fuck out of here feeling. We’d made it about fifteen feet into the tunnel and I’d already had enough.

Of course, I didn’t tell them that. I could feel Dex watching me closely, waiting for me to freak out.

“Let’s keep going,” I said quickly. I looked over to Rebecca who slowly nodded. I could see the music was intriguing her and that her rational mind was trying to attribute it to something logical. I wished she could have passed some of that logic onto me because her mind seemed like a safer place to be.

We resumed walking and as we did the tune began to fade until we were left again with the sound of our own breath and blood pumping within us.

“Okay,” Dex said slowly, coming to a stop. He shone the light forward, illuminating nothing but the never-ending tunnel as its graying walls disappeared into the black. I was terrified of the darkness that lay ahead, getting that same peculiar feeling I’d gotten earlier in the day when I had stared up at the house. Seeing nothing but feeling – knowing- that something was hidden in front of your eyes and watching you.

He looked over my head at Rebecca. “Do we want to try communicating in here or on the second floor?”

“Communicating?” I repeated, my skin dancing with raw nerves. “In here? No way. Not tonight. We should do that after the tour tomorrow so we know what the hell we’re dealing with.”

“There’s obviously something in this tunnel with us,” he said, his voice an octave lower. “Don’t you feel it?”

At that, a loud, gritty scraping sound rushed up from behind us. Dex immediately shone the light down the chute, illuminating the door to the first floor.

It was closing on us. Slowly.

As if someone on the other side was pushing it shut.

“Oh god,” I gasped as the door closed with a groan, sealing us inside the tunnel.

Red Fox, the second book in the EIT series, has always been a tricky book for me to make a fitting cover for. The first cover was original artwork, and though the artist followed my direction…yeah, it wasn’t very compelling. Fine for literature I think, but not for a paranormal new adult book.

So, months later, I had a new cover made. This one I put my friend Talar on the cover because she played Perry in the trailers and, let’s face it, she’s beautiful. I had my artist back then put an image of her as Perry with some scenery I shot in Palm Springs. I was okay with the cover…it wasn’t the best but it had to do.

And life went on.

Then I decided to put Darkhouse in a matte finish through Createspace’s new options and while I was doing that I thought, you know what, I should try to do Red Fox’s cover ONE more time. And so I asked my cover artist extraordinaire, Naj Qamber, to take an image I provided her and whip something up.

And here it is…the new cover for Red Fox. I love the eerieness of that bull skull combined with the native feather’s hanging. It’s very simple and stark but it suits the book. Plus the colors are to die for.

I can’t wait to get these new covers on Amazon soon and get the paperbacks in a nice matte finish. And if you’re coming to Richmond, Virginia for the author signing on Dec 14th, I’ll have some there available to sign (along with matte finish copies of Darkhouse, The Devil’s Metal, The Devil’s Reprise and Ashes to Ashes).