My brother loved St Patrick's Day. He was so full of life, so full of cheer. And the least judgmental person of his generation, and any generation really, that I've ever met. He died in 2009 at 25 years old. No one should die at that age. But I was lucky to have known him.
I was adopted. It's not the greatest love story, or luck story, but I was able to get out of a really bad situation. My brother was the first baby born after the adoption. He was my tie, my link. I adored the little baby born in a blizzard in February. His laughter made a lot of people smile. He made me welcome. I would likely never have even met him if I hadn't been adopted.
I feel privileged to have loved him, met him, to call him brother. To you, my brother. This one is for you. Cheers!
Thank you for believing in me and leaving behind such an incredible legacy of love, laughter, and life.
The long road to publishing and the adventures of being a full time mom while on the way :) *and beyond! :)
Monday, March 17, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
HK Sterling ~ A Taste for Killing
***Quick note: Three days of Lucky In Love Blog Hop. The first day falls on my Succulent Saturday Stories, so my guest is lucky again :D Glad you stopped by!***
As many of you know, I freelance edit and edit for Breathless Press, Just Ink, and now Three World productions. During the course of my freelance work, I had the good fortune to edit for HK Sterling, under another writing name. I am pleased as punch to be showcasing her now with this tantalizing suspense novella. It's fun and quirky and I think you'll love the characters. And guess what? I've already had the great fortune to read the sequel :D *yes, that is a brag*
Here she is and count yourself luck to have read her!
Twelve Things You Probably Don't Know About H.K. Sterling
As many of you know, I freelance edit and edit for Breathless Press, Just Ink, and now Three World productions. During the course of my freelance work, I had the good fortune to edit for HK Sterling, under another writing name. I am pleased as punch to be showcasing her now with this tantalizing suspense novella. It's fun and quirky and I think you'll love the characters. And guess what? I've already had the great fortune to read the sequel :D *yes, that is a brag*
Here she is and count yourself luck to have read her!
Twelve Things You Probably Don't Know About H.K. Sterling
1. She's female!
2. She bungee jumped to celebrate one of her birthdays. The second time she dove off backwards.
3. She holds a Bachelor and Master's Degree.
4. She once interviewed a former Major General in the KGB.
5. She's been to South America.
6. She's also been to Mexico, Canada, and Kauai.
7.The day after getting her Master's Degree, she loaded up her furniture and drove across the country to move to California. She did this with no job waiting and $2000 to her name.
8. She once lived in a commune.
9. She now lives on the East Coast with her husband.
10. She's been keeping a dream diary since 1982.
11. Holy Crap, she's OLD.........ISH
12. Her current favorite songs are below:
Counting Stars- One
Republic http://youtu.be/hT_nvWreIhg
Say Something- A Great
Big World & Christina Aguilera http://youtu.be/-2U0Ivkn2Ds
Love Don't Die- The Fray
http://youtu.be/WptxUWvrINQ
Sail- AWOL Nation http://youtu.be/gH2efAcmBQM
Same Love- Mary Lambert http://youtu.be/NhqH-r7Xj0E
Holy Grail- Jay Z Feat.
Justin Timberlake http://youtu.be/6AIdXisPqHc
Desolation of Smaug- Ed
Sheeran http://youtu.be/mllXxyHTzfg
A
Taste For Killing
By
H.K. Sterling
Excerpt
He had six-pack abs, and I wanted to
feel the carbonation. This one dressed like the stereotype of a construction
worker, down to the handkerchief he used to wipe sweat off his forehead. I
don't know if he or the hot day brought it out, but sweat poured off of me too.
He had no interest in me as a person, though. I was invading his territory.
Still, I enjoyed the view. For my part, I knew my clothes looked crappy. I
didn’t have to wear uniforms anymore, but my street clothes, well they were
very—street. So there I stood, a turd in the sun in front of this Adonis. Oh
well.
He pointed to a small trailer up a muddy
hill. The supervisor I asked to see apparently stayed in there. Stayed, as in
never left. Great. Mud. Now I'd be a dried turd in the sun. Adonis went back to
digging and I started the trek up the hill. At least I came with boots. Steel
toed.
Once I made it to the trailer, I heard
an argument going on inside.
"Look, I don't care who you are.
The plans are publically filed. Go get them yourself!" yelled someone.
Then I heard a voice I knew. Calm, cool,
subversive. "Is there any reason you're being so difficult? A man did die
on your watch."
An encounter I hadn’t planned on. Well,
at least not until later tonight. I knocked loudly on the door and with my
sweetest voice said, "Hello, boys. Am I interrupting something?"
"Great," groused the
supervisor. "A party." He appeared to me like another stereotype,
puffing on a cigar over a fat jowl line and rotund stomach that threatened to
overturn the small desk he was behind. I guess there's a reason for
stereotypes. He looked about four hamburgers away from a heart attack.
On a wooden chair in front of the
supervisor sat Jack. A fellow independent detective, an ally at times, a
competitor...and my on and off lover.
"Well, well, well," he said
smiling, but I could tell he wasn’t happy to see me. Not here. It meant we were
both working the same case. "Hello, Carolyn. Who hired you?"
"Parents."
"Girlfriend," he answered back.
We stared at each other. Complications.
The supervisor didn’t give a damn and
said to me, "Well, missy, I'll tell you the same thing I told this
guy." He jerked his thumb around to Jack. "The plans are publically
filed and that’s all I have to say about it."
I tried a different tactic. "That’s
fine with me. I have no problem going downtown for a copy." I wore my
practiced, saccharine smile. "But I wonder, could you tell me the name of
the architect? Please?" I smiled again. God, this job sucks at times.
The supervisor sighed. "Jones, Evan
Jones."
"Thank you so much," I said,
smiling my best smile again. "I'll get out of the way and leave you two
boys to...whatever you were doing."
I opened the door to go and started to
shut it only to find Jack following me out.
"Sure, flash your tits and get what
you want." Boy was he in a bad mood.
"There was no tit flashing in
there. Face it, testosterone was not a good choice in that situation."
Jack's response: a grunt.
"Besides," I tried to placate
him, "I didn’t get the plans either."
"No, you did one better."
"That's assuming the architect will
have anything to do with me and cooperate." A thought occurred to me.
"So are you going there too?"
"No, I might as well wait and see
what you turn up. Besides, I have my own leads."
"Are you planning to share?"
Just call me hopeful. As in full of shit, because that’s where hope always
seemed to lead.
"No," he said, still grumpy.
"I see. So it's gonna be like
that."
"I guess so."
I
felt like such a female. Damn. But I had to ask.
"Are we still on for tonight?"
"Yeah."
I wasn’t convinced but didn’t push it.
God, sometimes I hated myself. But we were good together—when it was good—when
his competitive edge didn’t get the better of him. Though I was one to talk. I
did the same thing at times. Hence our on and off status. But currently we were
supposed to be on. So, I kept it light in the spirit of things to come.
"Okay, master detective, I'll leave
you to your leads. See ya."
"See ya," he replied, already
preoccupied, pondering a piece of paper he'd taken from his pocket.
I made my way down the hill in my muddy
boots.
H.K.
Sterling
BIOGRAPHY
H.K. Sterling is an
author with Breathless Press known for stories with imagination, intelligence, a
kick, and twist endings. H.K. likes to focus her writing on suspense,
science-fiction, shorts, and anything that is spicy and unexpected. Sometimes
her writing may even go dark. H.K. lives in Virginia with her husband who
graciously puts up with her passion for writing. H.K. currently has a Mystery/Thriller
out: A Taste For Killing; and two
short stories in the Breathless Press Anthology: My Bloody Valentine. Her new book, A Taste For Danger has just been accepted for publication and H.K
will also soon publish a short-short titled Eyes
Only. H.K.'s books are suitable for 18+. You can contact H.K. on the
following social media:
Catch up with H.K.
Sterling on the following media:
Twitter: @HKSterling
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/HK-Sterling/426989014069244?ref=hl
Email:
HK.Sterling@aol.com
HK Sterling "Undercover
Blog": http://hksterling1.blogspot.com/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/HKSterling
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Faberge Nostromo, As Dreams Are Made On
Hi everyone :)
Today we have Faberge visiting us in his first ever f/f romance. And it's a doozy. He tells you a little about how the story came about, so I'll leave that to him. :)
*sniffs and grabs the hanky* Also a proud author moment for me. And he doesn't know it, but I'm currently writing another sci-fi, trying so hard to finish it by end of this weekend... *wails in happy author moment* Thank you Faberge!!
It's so
lovely to be here with Leona today. She's been enormously supportive of my
writing and I am hugging her to bits over t'interweb.
So, I want to
talk about As Dreams Are Made On, my sci-fi F/F update of Shakespeare's The
Tempest (I like to think it's where the Bard might have taken it had he seen
Star Trek) and the authors who've helped it on its way.
It was kicked
off by a Facebook group floating the idea of a Shakespeare inspired anthology
of short stories. The Tempest has long been a favourite of mine from when I saw
the 50s SF movie 'Forbidden Planet' and someone explained that it was
Shakespeare in space. I've seen the Royal Shakespeare Company do it with
Patrick Stewart (Captain Jean Luc Picard of the starship Enterprise) as
Prospero.
I was also
inspired by Leona's "The Captain's Christmas" but I've not told her
that... yet. I wondered how romance in space might play so I read it to get a
steer. My Captain Jane Ferdinand's not like Leona's Captain Faraway Hastings
though, but I think they might get on.
As Dreams Are
Made On also features a very adaptable android, R.E.L., and writing his
interaction with both Captain Ferdinand and Miranda, my marooned alien girl,
took me a few light years out of my comfort zone. Who better to check that with
than Doris O'Connor, author of many, many books but especially "Man-Droid The Orgasmatron"? She didn't
actually laugh out loud or suggest I bin it so I carried
on.
I dived into
Shakespeare on my kindle and hit Wikipedia and Google for dates, events and
themes in Shakespeare and for images to inspire me. I also revisited Forbidden
Planet and a lot of Star Trek. That wasn’t hard though as I am a total Trekkie
and frankly, once I typed the word "bo'sun" it practically wrote
itself.
Last, but
soooo not least, port of call—or space port of call, I suppose—was Raven
McAllan who, despite usually going nowhere near space, androids or starships in
her work has written enough romance novels to stretch from here to the
Andromeda nebula (and that's a long way). She really is the go-to girl on
style, structure and steaminess. She snipped at a few –ing words here and there
and also didn't laugh out loud.
Thank you
all, ladies. As Dreams Are Made On wouldn’t have happened without you. I hope
you like it.
BLURB -
A stricken starship, a captain lost in space; a beautiful alien girl,
marooned and adrift in time; the perfect robotic servant. Can he help them come
together and find the space and time for love?
Faberge Nostromo takes Shakespeare's 'The Tempest' far into the future and
onto a world where two women find that love, with the aid of a very capable
android, can be such a thing as dreams
are made on.
EXCERPT -
"I am a woman, Miranda.
Flesh and blood. The same as you."
Miranda breathed in slowly,
her gaze flitting from Ferdinand's eyes to her lips.
"Yes. Yes. You are.
Captain, kiss me again."
Ferdinand sought Miranda's
mouth now, more eagerly, and darted her tongue inside. The kiss was full and
deep, both girls probing and tussling with their tongues as Ferdinand ran her
fingers through Miranda's long purple tresses. Miranda put a hand on the small
of Ferdinand's back, pushing harder, and with her other hand stroked
Ferdinand's neck. She used her hands to explore every inch of Ferdinand's back
and shoulders, gently sliding over the silver of her uniform, tracing her spine
and muscles through the tight material, kneading and caressing in turn.
Their mouths parted, tongues
teasing until Ferdinand leaned to one side and danced a series of butterfly
kisses on the smooth blue skin of Miranda's neck and throat. Miranda gasped and
slid her hand around from Ferdinand's back and inched toward the curve of her
breast.
"Captain..." Miranda
whispered.
"Jane. It's Jane,"
Ferdinand replied in between the pattern of kisses she was placing on Miranda's
neck. Miranda inched her fingers toward Ferdinand's breast until they gently
brushed the smooth lower curve. She stopped.
"Jane, should I..."
"Yes, Miranda,"
Ferdinand replied. She placed a hand on Miranda's and gently moved it up until
Miranda's slim blue fingers covered her breast. "Let your emotions and
desires tell you what to do."
Ferdinand's nipple hardened as
Miranda gently explored the curve and outline of her breast through the tight
silver of her uniform. Ferdinand released her hand and placed her own on
Miranda's pert, firm breast, feeling her nipple already hard through the silk.
She circled the tight button with her thumb and felt Miranda mirror her
movements.
They kissed again, deeply, as
each felt the other's soft curves and hard nipples, Miranda's fingers
exploring, Ferdinand's confident and insistent. Ferdinand was wet now and
wanted those smooth blue fingers to explore inside her. She knew she had to
gently lead Miranda there, to teach her, guide her.
Buy Link -
Faberge Nostromo grew up in
the East End of London before escaping to East Anglia. He has been a civil
servant, a tea boy, sound engineer, a librarian and an IT consultant but always
knew that he was a writer. He now lives deep in the heart of Suffolk with
his wife, son and too many guitars.
Other great book by Faberge Nostromo and Breathless Press:
Thursday, March 6, 2014
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