Six Setence Sunday 11/27/11

Greetings, sixers! This week's six is more from The House on Shadowbird Lane. Sometimes...it's best not to look into mirrors.

 

She was about to turn and walk away when her reflection smirked. Confused, her hand moved to her mouth, but there was no smirk there. “You were just another piece of ass to him,” the mirror Evalyn said.

Evalyn started. That was impossible. Mirrors didn’t talk outside of fairytales.

For more authors who may or may not be experiencing impossible happenings, be sure to check out the official Six Sentence Sunday site here.

Six Sentence Sunday 11/20/11

Greeting, my sexy sixers. Are you ready for another six from The House on ShadowBird Lane? This week, one of the House's ghostly inhabitants is...er...piggybacking on one of the guests' more intimate moments.

The glint in her eyes was unmistakable, and half a second later, Stephen was shrugging out of his suit jacket and undoing his pants. He was so hard I felt the pain of it, and at this point, I was just as desperate to get inside her as he was. It had been so long. He unzipped his slacks and shoved them down his thighs a little. His erection sprang forth, longer than any I’d ever seen. A tinge of jealousy dinged my pride and I decided then that, once I’d evicted his soul, this body would be mine.

For more authors who may or may not be taking things that don't belong to them, be sure to check out the official Six Sentence Sunday site here

Six Sentence Sunday 11/13/11

Remember Saw? Imagine Jigsaw's voice as I say "Hello, sixers". I couldn't stay away from the erotic horror (even though I tried), so this week's six is from my recently completed horror novella The House on ShadowBird Lane. Six co-workers are partying inside a house they don't know is haunted. And one of its inhabitants is watching them.

She sashayed into the room as though she owned it, tight leopard-print garment clinging to her body for dear life; it was far too short to be called a dress, considering it stopped only half an inch below her plump, delectable ass. I longed for the days when I had a body of my own because Lucifer in hell, the things I would have done to her. Her energy glowed around her, blood red and tarnished beyond repair, but her soul was strong. I could feel it. I floated closer to her and tasted her aura, and the damned thing left a taste like rotted meat on my senses so potent I nearly gagged. What kind of horrible person was she?

For more authors who may or may not be under ghostly observation, be sure to check out the official Six Sentence Sunday site here. 

New Cover Art

Bask, and be amazed at the beauty that is the cover of My Only Wish (This Year). Book 2 in the Stories of Us, coming 12/2 from Etopia Press!

Six Sentence Sunday 11/6/11

Hello, and Welcome darling sixers! This week's six is from my brand new WIP. Not sure if it's gonna be m/m, m/f, or some combination thereof just yet, so bear with me here. Right now, I know that it's contemporary, it's called Damn That Radio, and my hero, James, is having a pretty tough night.

“I wish my dick was magical,” I say, watching the shooting star as it plummets towards the Earth. “That no one will be able to resist it and as soon as they have it, they’ll want it forever.” I close my eyes and repeat the wish in my head. For half a second, I think I feel something rolling down my spine, leaving a tingling warmth in its place, but a second later and I’m sure I imagined it.

I open my eyes again and the world shimmers in front of me. Fuck that; I am not about to cry over her.

For more authors who may or may not be wishing on shooting stars, be sure to check out the official Six Sentence Sunday site here.