Excerpts

Honorary Blogger Wulf Francu Godgluck: Tidbits about Wulfy + Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Tidbits about Wulfy

by Wulf Francu Godgluck

Hell-o, Everyone!

I’m Wulf Francu Godgluck or Wulfy for short.

I want to thank the Blogger Girls for the opportunity to do a guest b post. Often times we authors use these spot to sell ourselves to potential new readers. Either by doing a post about ourselves, our writing or one of our books, though, I feel only readers can sell books to follow reader, hence why asked the readers who favoured my work, why they like my stuff and what draws them to my writing? Though, it would be completely unfair to ask, only what they like, and though, I did ask what they dislike, I didn’t get too many response on that, but I did get some.   

Of course, I won’t post every single thing each reader stated but I would like to share a few with the Blogger Girls’ readership.

“Starting one of your books almost feels like buckling yourself onto a rollercoaster in the dark. You have no idea what’s going to happen. But it moves fast and you get such an adrenaline rush. Sometimes it drops and your stomach falls – and you are always wondering what’s coming next.” 

“You put it all out there and I love it. You are also one of the best that I love/hate. Never know where you are going to go with the stories.”

It’s very true, I love to keep readers on their toes, never knowing what to except or where the story will go.  One thing I hate while reading is predictability, even in romance, despite the fact that most romance ends on HEA, I still want an author to make me feel as if it’s not going to.

“I love the emotions and feeling you invoke with your words and that you don’t follow the norm.”

I strive for this, I work very hard to accomplish this because once you have your readers emotionally invested, it’s hard for them to let go, but I don’t just want my reader to feel the emotions, I want them to be able to taste them. Let me tell you, doing this is not easy, even during an action scene I want my readers to feel.

“I love how raw your characters are. No holds barred and nothing held back.”

Another thing I try very hard to do, is not tell my readers how badass a character is or how alpha male, possessive etc, they are, but to show my reader. So often I come across stories where the authors tells you repeatedly how badass/mean/cruel/deadly/dark a character is, but it won’t carry any weight until that character is tested, and more often than not, some authors tend to fail in that opportunity to show the readers just how badass/mean/cruel/deadly/dark a character can be.

“Pulling you one way then smashing you into the wall with one heart stopping sentence. You invite…no you drag your readers kicking and screaming into your book and hold them there for one hell of a ride. You’re not for the faint hearted, no buttercream topping just raw meat, blood and guts. Then you flip and show your readers tender heart breaking love and joy. You paint a passionate world that’s not easy to read sometime but one you don’t want to leave …”

I really do, do this, I guess, but the lines I want to draw attention to here are those in bold.  You can’t show your readers just darkness, you need to show them the vulnerability, the tender moments, the humanity still struggling to survive within the monster,  because I believe it brings a sense of realness to your characters, no matter how dark they are.

“I love the way you use your words, sometimes it’s a bit crazy, but it just makes you more aware of every word you read.”

I do this on purpose for the very same reason as stated above, I want my reader to pay attention to what they are reading, not just because sometimes we read a line or a sentence and our brain completes it before we read the last word, but there are under tones in my writing. Hidden meanings that sometimes forewarns readers as to what’s to come, or have a reflection on the world and current events, and I truly want my reader to be aware of what’s going on,  on the page.

“You sir have a way with words it’s like jumping down the rabbit hole to wonderland only to get spat out the other end all emotionally bruised and battered, your characters are what cat-nip is to cats they’re addictive, dark, take no prisoners and they’re totally batshit crazy!!”

Totally, I love the villain, the antiheros, the deeply disturbed and crazy ones, even as a young child I was more interested in the story of the villain than I was about anything else, because damn, some of them villains are hot, and well, who’s to say, just because they slaughtered the whole summer camp, that they haven’t loved, or can’t fall in love. Yes, I write criminals, killers, psychopaths and sociopaths. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea but it sure is mine

“Your writing is unapologetic. There’s this ‘you don’t like it? There’s the &$^%king door’ attitude in all of your books.”

Now hang on, lol, before readers think I’m arrogant, I’m not, but I do write my characters this way, they are who they are, and they won’t change for you, for me, or anyone else. (Okay maybe in some causes they’ll change for the one(s) they love.) But my point here is, I write hard characters, not always for the readers to fall in love with them or even sympathize with them, but to understand them, maybe to relate in one or a few of their aspects, I write for the journey they take you on, why are they the way they are, what happened, what changed and how will this play out in the end.  I am a big believer in every action has a consequence, the butterfly effect, it’s not so much the destination, but the journey and the ones you meet and things you learn on the way.

“In 100% honest truth… since you asked… I like your books because they’re different. They aren’t your everyday hearts and rainbows, fluffy, cookie cutter shit that I hate. I like the imagination. The unique plots. The covers are all $#%king awesome! Seriously amazeballs. The only critique I would give is that sometimes they can be harder to follow because they bounce around some, ideas wise/flow.”

Yes that last line is one of my biggest flaws, I do tend to jump around, presenting an idea or explanation to readers before I get to the actual point. To some it can be confusing, even frustrating. It’s just how my brain’s thought patterns work, I process information extremely fast, confronting and dismissing pros and cons or possible contradictions, I also tend to have multiple POV within a manuscript. I don’t write purely romance, I lean more towards fiction, with romance as a sub plot. My sorties are also complex in plot. Again, it comes back to how my creative though proses is wired. I’ve tried and tried hard to write a sweet and simplistic romance, and damn it’s freaking hard for me, my brain always have to butt in and over complicate things. I take my hat off to authors who can keep their stories sweet and tender with uncomplicated romance.

A few things readers did not mention that I personally feel is some of my writing flaws, I can be over flowery with adjectives, and make use of very vivid (sometimes overtop) descriptions, I can be very dramatic in my writing, stretching things to their extreme, I also tend to be poetic in my writing. Some reader are okay with this, others are not. I also over show with my writing, but I would rather over show than tell. English is not my first langue, this is both good and not so good, for one, it has given me a unique voice among my writing peers, but this also handers me in the way I express things in writing.  

And there you have it, a few thoughts and comments from readers and me about my writing.

Wulfy

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Honorary Blogger E.M. Hamill: The Idea Behind Nectar and Ambrosia + Excerpt & Giveaway!

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The Idea Behind Nectar and Ambrosia

by E.M. Hamill

Nectar and Ambrosia is a bar and hotel that straddles dimensions, a threshold between our world and the dimension from which the Amaranthine originate. The (alas) fictional pub is located in my hometown of Kansas City, Missouri, smack in the middle of downtown in the popular Power and Light District.

The idea for this story actually came from a dream I had. There was a guy behind the bar that everyone knew was the “go-to” guy if you needed something from the gods: blessings, favors, interventions. People would go and talk to him and he would be the one to decide whether or not you’d get to go upstairs or in the back room and talk to the gods personally.

I was compelled to write about this man immediately after the dream, and although he ended up a very different person in Nectar and Ambrosia,  Florian became the main character of a really bad short story, pieces of which  ultimately ended up in a couple of different chapters of the book. One scene I did not use involved Florian reminding Hades and Satan his back room was a non-smoking section.

The ideas behind organized religion, mythology, and celebrity are admittedly cynical and snarky, but I had a good time rewriting the origins of my favorite mythological characters to reflect the alternate reality I was building. Having all these different pantheons, legends and philosophies in one place was challenging and not only required research, but a careful dash of creative license. I’ve tried to remain respectful while still putting all of them behind the same sarcastic filter.

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Leaning Into the Look by Lane Hayes: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Leaning Into the Look

by Lane Hayes

“Yoo-hoo!”

I turned to greet Miles and almost fell flat on my ass when he rushed forward with his arms outstretched like he was going to hug me. He halted abruptly and held his hands up in surrender instead. There was a comedic quality to his jerky movement like he was laughing at himself before I could beat him to it.

“How’s it go—” I froze midsentence when I met his gaze.

Fuck, he was…stunning. But I couldn’t say why I thought so. He wore nondescript weekend duds. Designer jeans and a black mock neck turtleneck sweater. The rolled cuffs and red loafers might garner a second glance elsewhere, but not in the Castro. It took a lot more than a colorful pair of shoes to stand out among the drag queens, fashionista twinks, and leather daddies. It might not be his wardrobe, but there was something in the way he carried himself and the proud tilt of his scruffy chin that set him apart. He exuded a manic energy I’d associated with someone who habitually ran late.

But Miles was never late. He was always on time, organized, in control, and seemingly ready to conquer the world. I’d witnessed the crack in his armor, though, and I was beginning to think that glimpse of realness was what made him impossible to ignore.

I cleared my throat then tried again. “How are you?”

Miles’s grin widened, giving his eyes a mischievous glint. “I’m well. Thank you for inquiring.”

“This is kind of weird, isn’t it? I probably should have asked one of my cousins to help you out. I panicked and—”

“I know. It’s okay. I won’t bite, and I won’t get any ideas that this was all a ruse to get me to yourself again.”

The obvious humor in his tone invited me to go with the flow and if possible, set aside any lingering weirdness from our recent encounters. If he could do it, I could do it, I mused. I straightened my shoulders and hooked my thumb toward the house behind me.

“Ready to look at your new dream home in the city?”

Miles hefted his large canvas tote bag higher on his shoulder then lifted his hand to shade his eyes as he peered up at the old Victorian. “Hmm. I know it’s not wise to judge a book by its cover, but honey, this is just plain fugly. Please tell me I’m going to be amazed by the whimsy and character and all kinds of other wondrous adjectives the second I step over the threshold.”

“Uh, well…I’ve never actually been inside any of the properties on my list today. I don’t usually show rentals, so I had to go by photographs and descriptions. Hopefully we’ll both be pleasantly surprised,” I said with a half laugh.

Ooh! This feels like an adventure already. Lead the way, handsome.”

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Honorary Blogger Morgan Brice: Sexing Up Real Settings and History + Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Sexing Up Real Settings and History

by Morgan Brice

My new romance novel, Badlands, is set in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Witchbane, the first book in my other new romance series, is set in Richmond, but will move from city to city throughout the series. And in the books I’ve written under my Gail Z. Martin name, I’ve set all kinds of adventures in Charleston, Pittsburgh, the wilds of Pennsylvania, and elsewhere.

Ever wonder how writers use real places and real history? It’s more fun—and maybe a little harder—than you might think!

So here’s the gist of my brand-new Badlands, which is the first book in its series: Medium and clairvoyant Simon Kincaide owns a Myrtle Beach boardwalk shop where he runs ghost tours, holds seances, and offers private psychic readings, making a fresh start after his abilities cost him his lover and his job as a folklore professor. Jaded cop Vic D’Amato saw something supernatural he couldn’t explain during a shootout several years ago in Pittsburgh and relocated to Myrtle Beach to leave the past behind, still skeptical about the paranormal.  But when the search for a serial killer hits a dead end, Vic battles his skepticism to ask Simon for help. As the body count rises, Simon’s involvement makes him a target, and a suspect. But Simon can’t say no, even if it costs him his life and heart

When I set a book in a real-world location, I want the setting to become a character, giving the story such a sense of personality unique to that city that it couldn’t happen in the same way anywhere else. I also know that other people actually live in that location, so I want to make sure that I get my details right, because I don’t want to throw anyone out of the story. That means I do a lot of research online with maps, photographs and history sites (and in my case, sites about ghost hunting and hauntings). If possible, I visit the city and check out the locations in person, but sometimes I end up adding in a location after the visit, in which case online photos and Google Street View are fantastic!

It helps to have lived in a location (as with Pittsburgh and Richmond) or to have visited frequently (as with Myrtle Beach and Charleston—and the other cities yet to come in the Witchbane series). That’s not always possible, but it definitely lends some street cred to getting the vibe right.

Since my books have some supernatural element to them—magic, hauntings, cursed objects, monsters, psychic abilities—I also try to take into account local legends and lore. When I can weave in local ghost stories, urban legends, and spooky history like ship wrecks, famous disappearances or unsolved mysteries, the book feels a lot more authentic to the location. This is one of the most fun parts of writing, because I love these kinds of tales!

The location determines a lot of aspects of the story, from what the weather is like during different seasons to what kinds of natural disasters pose a threat. That helps me decide what ‘tools’ I have in my writing toolbox to bedevil my characters and cause problems for them or put them in danger. Plus, different cities and regions have very different cultures, whether it’s formal or laid-back, suspicious of strangers or welcoming, open to new things or secretive with a lot of baggage. That’s going to shape the characters and the people around them, and determines how they react and what kinds of obstacles they might encounter.

I really love getting to know new places or digging deeper into favorite locations! That’s why all my books are set in cities where I’m happy to have many reasons for a return visit. I hope you’ll do some ‘arm chair tourism’ through my stories, and maybe even decide you want to go visit the places I’ve mentioned yourself!

I’ll be a Hosting Author at RomCon and a Supporting Author at Gay Romantic Lit Retreat in October, so please look me up and say hello!

Badlands is available in ebook on Kindle, Kobo and Nook and in print. We’re working on audiobook. Please also check out Witchbane, the first in my other urban fantasy MM paranormal romance series!

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Release Blitz: Knitting A Broken Heart Back Together by Ari McKay + Excerpt & Giveaway!

Knitting A Broken Heart Back Together by Ari McKay

When a Christmas shopping expedition brings Tomy Peralta into Jason Winters’s yarn store, both men feel an immediate and intense spark of attraction, but dance instructor Tomy intends to propose to his boyfriend, Sean, at Christmas. Unfortunately for Tomy, marriage isn’t on career-minded Sean’s agenda. Heartbroken, Tomy throws himself into his work until his mother convinces him that learning to knit might help take his mind off his failed romance.

Jason falls hard for Tomy, but he knows Tomy needs time to heal and to trust in love again. As Jason teaches Tomy to knit, Tomy teaches him to dance in return. Just when it seems Tomy is ready for a new romance, Sean shows up, wanting Tomy back. Will Tomy give his heart to Sean once more, or will Tomy finally see Sean for who he truly is, and choose the man who helped him knit his heart together again?

Available at: Amazon
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Edge Jump by Elizabeth Noble: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Edge Jump

by Elizabeth Noble

Rylan stretched so he could whisper in Brett’s ear, “I love wearing this plug.”

Slipping one arm around Rylan’s waist, Brett turned them toward the dance floor. “We have some time before the show begins. Can you dance without the skates?”

Rylan gave him a small smirk and glanced down, at the same time running one finger along Brett’s waistband.

Brett chuckled and kissed Rylan’s forehead. “Let’s dance and take a look around, see if there’s anyone here you know.”

They melded into the crowd. Rylan was technically a professional dancer and followed Brett’s less than perfect lead effortlessly. He arched so his bare torso pressed against Brett and quivered when Brett’s hand smoothed over his ass and gave a little tug on the strap holding the plug into place. People were watching them, but Brett was pretty sure it was because of Rylan. Normally Brett felt too big and awkward beside Celia or Rylan but not tonight. Dancing with Rylan, Brett felt powerful and needed.

Rylan was so willing and submissive, and it was exciting the way Brett could encircle Rylan’s waist with his arm. As they swayed to the music Brett turned them in a slow circle, taking the opportunity to let one hand roam up Rylan’s back and over his ribs. When Rylan shivered Brett pulled him in tighter.

“See anyone familiar?” Brett murmured in Rylan’s ear then licked and nipped his earlobe.

“No, sir.” Rylan’s hips jerked forward, and he tried to rub his caged cock against Brett’s leg.

The music switched to something a little faster and they separated a bit and try as Brett did, he couldn’t match Rylan’s dance moves. It was fun watching him, however. Not to mention the sight kept Brett’s groin warm and feeling full. The next song had a great beat and Brett grabbed Rylan’s hand, pulled him close, and turned them across the floor. He didn’t miss how others constantly eyed Rylan’s lean body and defined legs. Brett found himself drawn more to Rylan’s silky blond hair, high cheekbones, and alluring green eyes.

Rylan had been right, Brett was jealous of the attention others were paying to him. He was just as thrilled by the fact Rylan appeared to only have eyes for Brett. It made Brett feel as if he was the center of the world for Rylan and that was exhilarating, but more so it was frightening. His earlier assessment was correct, Rylan was an addiction. The question was, did Brett want to sink farther in, or overcome that addiction.

An announcement that the show would begin shortly broke into Brett’s thoughts. Rylan sucked in a quick breath and the way his face lit up made Brett take his hand and pull him in for a quick kiss. “Shall we go get front row seats?”

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My Crunchy Life by Mia Kerick: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from My Crunchy Life

by Mia Kerick

Kale, 6: 45 p.m.

I unfold the paper-airplane-essay and add my new ideas to the page while Hughie makes room on the spare bed for his project partner.

A minute later, I hear soft footsteps on the rug. “Hey, Hughie.”

My dreadlocks stand on end— well, not literally, but it makes for a good visual— because I know that voice.

To play it cool, or not to play it cool? That is the question.

I stare at my essay. I’m going with cool.

“What’s up, Julian?” Hughie pats the place beside him on the bed. “Sit down.”

Julian doesn’t move. “Kale? I didn’t know you were Hughie’s brother.”

“Cousins… we’re cousins,” I mumble, then let my eyes pop off the messy writing on the paper in front of me to check out the boy and his lips. “Hi, Julian. I didn’t know you and Hughie were friends.” He looks fantastic again… or maybe as usual. He’s dressed from head to toe in black, bringing the term classy to life once again tonight.

“We’re partners in a project,” Hughie insists, making it clear to me that he and Julian are not friends. I’m not sure why proving this is so important to him.

It kills me to do it, because there’s nothing I’d like more than to invite Julian to sit on my bed and kick back with me for a while, but I tell them, “Well, don’t let me distract you guys. I have to focus on this essay, anyway.” I drag my gaze from Julian’s intoxicating lips and try to sink back into the headspace of a plant in pain.

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Chance by Archie Hellshire: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Chance

by Archie Hellshire

Daniel woke up as he did every day: on time and ready for everything he already had planned from the month before. But as he went through his morning routine, he was not invigorated by the same sense of dull contentment as usual.

Mildred’s comments from the previous day were still resonating, unwelcomed, through his mind. As much as he tried to focus on something else, her words kept coming right back around to the forefront of his mind.

“Live a little” was the endless refrain she kept singing to him. She had never had any children of her own; he supposed she was trying to endanger his life as a proxy. Her idea of living a little was getting involved in a fire fight armed with a knife, or spontaneous parachuting, sans parachute. He had never understood that kind of thrill-seeking behavior. Surely, a long life was preferable to a short life interspersed with the adrenaline fixes. He couldn’t think of anything he’d want so much as to risk death.

Then again, maybe he should live a little. What was the worst that could happen? Upon thinking that question, the gears of his mind started turning out horrifying answers, and he was right back to being happy being bored.

He was distracted from his unremarkable epiphany by a jarring sense of wrongness in the real world. He surfaced from his musings to find he was on the subway platform down the street from his apartment. This itself wasn’t strange, his mornings were so regimented he could go through them automatically without sparing any conscious thought. He sometimes arrived at work without even remembering the trip, but something had stopped him this time, and he wasn’t sure what it was.

Firstly, he made sure that there was no imminent danger. The platform wasn’t filling with a cloud of nerve gas, no one was running away screaming, and he wasn’t ankle deep in rats desperate to escape the tunnels. All of which were good signs. A search of his persons revealed he hadn’t forgotten his briefcase, wallet, or pants. With a shrug, he decided to continue with his commute, and that’s when he realized the problem that had stopped him in the first place: there was no subway car to get on.

He checked his phone to find he was running late. He’d been so deep in Mildred-land he had lost track of time and his train had left several minutes before. Cursing Mildred, he reminded himself it was no matter. He always left early in case exactly this happened. That day, he would have to settle for just arriving to work on time.

A few minutes later, the distant rumble of a train came down the tunnel. With a howl and a blast of air, it appeared next to the platform and screeched to a halt. The doors slid open and, after one or two odd people had petered out, Daniel stepped inside the nearest car.

This train was unremarkable from any other he’d taken, but there was still an uneasiness about it. Over the course of several years, despite not making eye contact with his fellow commuters, he had gotten used to traveling with the same group of people every morning. Not exactly the same but there were always some regulars on his usual car. Gone was the lady who always carried her red umbrella whatever the weather, and in her place sat a black lady with long white-blonde braids. The bench of seats to the right of him, usually full of identical old men in identical suits was completely occupied by a rotund gentleman not wearing a shirt. Surrounded by these strangers that were stranger than his usual strangers, he felt distinctly out of place. He was aware, logically, that there was no greater chance that any of these people were serial killers as opposed to the people he usually went to work with, but that didn’t stop him from wondering about it at length. When he finally felt the train begin to slow in anticipation of his stop, he positioned himself directly in front of the door.

Through the windows of the door, the tunnel outside gave way to a platform. The train lurched to a stop, the door slid open, and Daniel threw himself out. However, his escape was thwarted when he bumped into someone trying to get in.

“Oh,” said the stranger, flashing an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

Then things happened very fast but also in slow motion.

The many and constantly spinning gears in Daniel’s head came to a full stop. The future they were constantly trying to predict disappeared. Daniel was entirely focused on one thought: the man he had just bumped into.

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Magic or Die by J.P. Jackson: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Magic or Die

by J.P. Jackson

“ALL RIGHT.” MIRIAM tried to assuage the small crowd and waited until the side banter in the room dissipated. “I understand James’s abilities are rather unsettling and somewhat forceful.”

“Exactly how many others have abilities like him? He controlled every single one of us. What’s to prevent him from controlling an army?” Major Harris said. He was shaking, and his fat stuffy face formed angry red blotches that bled together. From the way his jowls hung over his tight shirt collar, you’d swear he was swelling with rage at my takeover.

“I couldn’t sustain large numbers of people for any lengthy period of time, and frankly, you weren’t actively resisting me. You were just sitting there,” I said. It was true. My abilities also had a physical cost and other limitations. “If you fought the impulses I had sent, you wouldn’t have succumbed. It works best on the element of surprise.” I gave them little morsels of information. That certainly wasn’t the total extent of my restrictions, but I’ll be damned if I was going to give it all away.

“Feel better, Major?” Miriam asked. “Perhaps you’ll agree James is the most qualified for the job, then.” She looked around the room, presumably waiting for anyone to disagree. “Very good, let’s proceed. We are here today to review prospective candidates. These are the five students James will be taking on.”

The participants in the room nervously shifted the dossiers in front of them.

“I didn’t agree to take on any class. I said consult—” I hissed from the corner of my mouth while my hackles rose and panic stirred in my gut.

“Need I remind you about your sister?” she whispered to me through tightly pursed lips and gritted teeth.

“I hate you,” I retorted back just as quietly.

“In front of each of you are dossier reports. Let’s start with the first.” A hidden movie screen descended, filling up the front of the room. Lights around the periphery of the stone table dimmed as spotlights above each seat turned on, creating an eerie halo around the executives’ heads.

“The first is twenty-four-year-old Ning Chiu,” Miriam started, as I grabbed the file on the girl. A picture of Ning appeared on the screen. She was pretty, bright, perky, and looked like she was all of sixteen in her schoolgirl uniform. “Ning is an exchange student from Beijing, China. She speaks Mandarin, Cantonese, English, German, and Italian. She’s incredibly gifted with languages and came to Canada to study the North American prairie indigenous tongues.”

Miriam held up a remote and pushed a few buttons. The picture on the screen flickered, disappeared, and then returned. She clicked the remote again and poof, the image was gone, blinding the audience with a pure white screen.

“Goddamn thing…” She pushed more buttons and waved the remote with unsuccessful results in the direction of where Ning’s picture had been. People around the table held their hands over their eyes, trying to shy away from the blinding light.

An underling who had been standing against the back wall rushed forward.

“May I,” he inquired as his hands flailed in an attempt to wrestle the remote away from her.

“Just make it work,” Miriam barked.

With the click of a few buttons, the tech guy had a movie clip playing with Ning and an unknown male interviewer who was off-screen.

“Ning, can you make the wind blow?”

“Yes,” Ning said softly. She closed her eyes as her long black hair swooped and swayed as if she was outside in a gentle autumn breeze.

“More?” the interviewer asked.

“Are you sure?” she said tentatively.

“Yes, please.”

A whirlwind began, and a desk behind Ning jerked and shifted and then lifted off the floor, spinning in a clockwise motion, pivoting on one desk leg. Papers, books, an assortment of odd items were violently sucked into the vortex Ning had created. A spiralling tunnel of wind, akin to a mini tornado, twirled behind her. Objects caught up in its rotation flew out at random intervals, but oddly, as items were ejected from the small twister, none of them came anywhere near Ning.

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Love Me Louder by Christina Lee: Exclusive Excerpt!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Love Me Louder

by Christina Lee

“So go on—with the kissing.”

Why the hell had he even brought it up in the first place? “I don’t know… A lot of tongue ruins it for me. Don’t get me wrong, tongue is good when you’re in the moment.”

“Like during sex?” Will threw out.

Noah nodded, his stomach swooping a bit at the turn of conversation. “It’s sexy as hell in the heat of the moment, but not right off the bat. I don’t like anyone slobbering on me.”

Will casually lifted Noah’s hand and brought it toward his mouth. “So…like this?” He kissed the middle of his palm, which sent a shockwave through his system. Before Will pulled away, he softly flicked out his tongue, and it went straight to Noah’s cock.

Holy fuck. So unfair.

Noah barely refrained from sighing. “Yeah, just like that, you bastard.”

Will laughed and kissed his palm again, apparently enjoying tormenting him.

But Noah had to admit, pretending or not, it felt pretty damned good.

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