Showing posts with label D.F. Krieger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label D.F. Krieger. Show all posts

Monday, May 22, 2017


Hello! I have a guest author today! She's here promoting her latest work. It is hot hot hot. Everything here is PG 13 or less, but I think you get the idea!
 
 
 
I sank into the bath and sighed at the soothing heat. The bubbles were a nice touch too. The water made my wounds sting, but I welcomed the pain. For some reason, my mind equated that the pain meant all the cuts and abrasions were being cleaned. The large one on my knee ached particularly bad, but I’d survived far worse. That acknowledgement drew my gaze to my thigh and the sloppy crisscrossing of scars there.

My property. Just like the animal you are, Master Bryce growled in my ear.

I jumped, throwing my arms around myself and hugging my body tight. My eyes searched the room as I waited for him to walk into view, knife glinting in his hand. The room remained silent except for the racing thud of my heartbeat.

“He’s not here,” I whispered. “You aren’t with him anymore. He can’t hurt you.”

How dare you be so ungrateful. Master fed you!

“He starved me,” I protested. “Sometimes he wouldn’t let me eat for days.”

Master clothed you!

“I was only allowed to wear lingerie. He didn’t even allow me to wear shoes. That’s not clothing.”

Master sheltered you!

“Caged me,” I snarled at the voice.

You are nothing without Master!

Those words hit where it counted. I recoiled both mentally and physically, though I knew I’d never be able to outrun that voice. It sounded like my own, but different. Same voice, but robotic. Lifeless. A recording to remind me of all my failings and everything I would never be. Maybe it was my broken soul, shattered and stuck on repeat like a skipping CD.

“Yes, I am nothing,” I admitted, staring at the bubbles that floated on the surface of the water. “But if I try really hard, maybe I can fix myself and be something. Someone worthwhile. Maybe…”

The protests in my head died, as if the nefarious voice contemplated what I said. Or maybe it planned its next attack. Either way, it hushed without anyone else having to interfere, and I sent thanks to the Universe for the moment’s peace.

I didn’t want to linger too long in the bath, so I focused on washing up, including my hair. Once upon a time, I’d kept my hair long enough to touch my waist. Now it only brushed the tops of my shoulders. The first time I’d cut it, I’d done it to feel like I held control over at least one aspect of my life. When Master saw it, he told me I looked like an ugly boy. After that, I kept cutting it shorter and shorter. I think, deep down, I hoped if I cut it short enough, he would find me so unattractive he would quit seeking me out for sexual interaction.

Satisfied that I’d washed away the dirt and grime from the past few days, I let the tub drain and stepped out to towel off. Until the bath, I didn’t realize how much my muscles ached. Now that the heat soaked the soreness away, I could move a little more freely. It made drying off much easier, though my palms still smarted and my knees were raw.

I slipped into an oversized shirt that announced Do Not Disturb in metallic silver letters against a pink and black background. The contact of the clean garment against my skin sent a fresh prayer of gratitude from my lips at the luck that landed clothes in my lap. Clothes that covered me. Clothes that didn’t leave me bare to the prying, leering eyes of strangers. I pushed away the thought before it towed me under into my shadows like a riptide and slipped on a pair of clean panties, then opened the door.

Voices met me. One of them male.

A lump formed in my throat as I stood just inside the door of the bathroom, holding my breath as I strained to listen. Was Master out of the hospital already? Had he found out where I was? Did he come for me? The questions and fears raced through my mind a mile a minute.

If he told me to come home with him, I would. But now that I’d been jarred back into seeing the whole picture, could I ever let my world narrow down again?

 

 




 

Sunday, January 8, 2017

Well then...

Hello there all you happy people...and depressed people.

I've had an awful fall...with some good in it. I now live in the Pacific Northwest's wet part of the Evergreen State. Good because I now don't sound like a horse when I sleep, didn't end up in hospital or almost dying, and can breathe loads better. Bad because money...costs a lot more to live where we're at. At least my family is together again.

I've been depressed. Severely depressed. A huge portion of it has been situational. Things I don't want to talk about in specific, but lies, betrayal, people pretending to be your friend, being apart from my kids during the week, being gone from youngest (whom I had with me) for 13-15 hours a day as I commuted to the job I found...yeah. Bad times. Depression like I've not known since Post partum hit me, only this was worst. I'd lost my center. I found it again. Depression is still trying to nip at my heels, but I finally have a grasp on its horns and can toss it out the window easier and quicker.

But I think why it hit me so hard, all the above things were happening and I had little to no time for my sanity. Ie art, writing, crafts. Didn't have time for anything. Well, I'm writing again. Pulled paints out of storage (I'm currently living in a friend's garage with my family!) and plan to paint again. Haven't painted in months due to time and space.

I love where my kids are going to school, but unless some miracle happens, we aren't going to be able to stay. Well, I'm trying to make that miracle happen. How? With my writing and art. I've started a newsletter, claimed all my books on my amazon author page, have marketing plans, new release, new covers being made, and am back at the editing job. Plus, I'm going to be back to selling my art. Have been through a lot of boxes in storage. I have found a few paintings that haven't been destroyed with the move (It was a bit depressing to see how many had been messed up) and will be putting the listings up.

I've added the subscribe list to the sidebar here on this blog.

I've put new stuff up in my Etsy shop here.

Point is, I haven't completely given up, though it was close sailing for a while. But onwards and upwards. Here we go!

First of all, let me show you our new release cover of the box set I'm in with some fabulous authors.

 
Isn't the cover gorgeous!! Pick up your preorder for only 99 cents here! You won't be disappointed.
 
PS Thank you to all of you whom have stuck around through my ups and downs. Time for more ups than downs, don't you think?

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Panthers and Precincts ~ Deadra Krieger

Hi :)

It's time again for my Succulent Saturday Stories and I have my good friend and editor here today under her other hat: author! Great start to a series that will warm your hearts. And by the way, I'm not letting her around my dog or cat. The stories they would tell. She makes me go outside and pee or poop. She kicks me off the couch when I'm stealing her food. She spanks me when I eat the kids food. I mean, come on, we all know the kid isn't going to eat his broccoli. She made me get away from the stove when she was cooking. Was even rude about it! I never! Yeah, we'll hide the pets when she's here...

I give you, Deadra :D


A Little Magic in Us All

During edits, I brought up the fact that Magic is based on a cat I had the pleasure of living with (because let's face it, you never truly own a cat) a few years ago. The cat, large and black, sported the name Xerxes and could talk. "Yeah, no, Mom, down, uh-oh, rain, tuna, turkey, bath, now, pill (treat), and Frrrost (the name of my other cat who was his best friend)" are the words I heard him say most frequently. I'm not sure why Xerxes could talk so well, much less in context. Perhaps it was due to my son going through in-home speech therapy and Xerxes listening to them? Maybe it was because as a Siamese and Egyptian Mau mix, he was one of the more vocal breeds?

It could be that, like my character Zeara, I'm an animal empath.

There, I said it. I let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. How does one know they are an animal empath? Well, I didn't. Not at first. I spent the first seven years of my life believing everyone could understand the animals in the same way I can. I learned their language the same as any toddler learns their natural language. I had great teachers. My mother's cat, Theodin who was old and wise at the age of 12. My father's German Shephard mix, Necron, who was enthusiastic and talked all the time. And then there was Pepi—a border collie who watched over me from the moment I was born and who taught me many things. The woods are full of coyotes who will kill and eat you. The road is made of things that will smash you to pieces and kill you. The abandoned chicken house is full of snakes that will bite you and make you sick. Pepi drove me crazy as a child. He wouldn't let me go anywhere or do anything. I distinctly remember wailing in my backyard at the age of four because, once again, Pepi drug me away from the edge of the woods by the seat of my pants.

Now you are probably asking how I am able to understand animals. It's not Doctor Doolittle where the animal opens their mouth and speaks human. I've always explained it like this: if you are fluent in a secondary language, do you mentally translate it to your native tongue when you read or listen to someone speaking the second language? That's what I do. Every ear perk, every chatter or growl, every tail lift or lower has meaning in the language of animals. I can tell from looking at a cat's pupils if it is excited and ready to play, or frightened. I can tell from a dog's bark if it is bluffing about the bite, or if it honestly means to follow through. Then there are the pictures and emotions. I could go on and on about it, but if you truly wish to learn what it's like to live through the eyes of an animal empath, then I can only suggest reading the Faxfire Series. Otherwise, I'd end up high jacking poor Leona's blog, and as much as I love her company, I don't want to be rude.

As is, thank you for having me, Leona. And remember, be aware of what you say or do around your animals. You have no idea the things they blab about when someone like me visits.

 
 
 
 
 
 
Gorgeous cover! BP covers really do stand out, don't they? Now, if you're wanting to get social with her, or buy her books, you can STALK her here:
 
 
Social links:
 
Website: dfkrieger.com
Official Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/D-F-Krieger/177107165643929
Faxfire Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FaxfireSeries
 
Buy Links:
Breathless Press: http://www.breathlesspress.com/index.php?main_page=product_free_shipping_info&cPath=13&products_id=531&zenid=0b5bb1524c39b159e630dcc39d90789b
ARe:
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-panthersandprecinctsfaxfireseriesbook1-1405502-143.html