Look What Evernight Did in July 2012!

Talbot Sauvageot has kept his wicked lifestyle underground for several years, going from one lover to the next. Decedent rake to females by day, passionate lover for his latest male companion at night. When he is forced to flee Paris or face the guillotine, Talbot realizes none of the men he has bedded over the past years burns at his soul like his dear friend, Maxime LaRue.

Forced into seclusion in the forest of Bois de Lunor, he receives an invitation from Maxime for their yearly gathering at his estate in Varanguebec. One that Talbot has avoided the past few years. Refusing to submit to a life without love, Talbot schemes to discover if his childhood friend shares the same taste in pleasure as he.

Will Maxime submit to Talbot’s ploy or cast his friend in the shadow of death?

Be Warned: m/m sex, forced seduction, rimming, multiple partners

***************

Heaven and Hell have long battled for human souls. Now, coming into the electronic age, a supernatural e-reader is a conduit to both planes…

In The Devil’s Agent, Kampbell’s sent to a conference in her boss’s place, her Nook in hand to ward off the boring lectures. When she finds an unfamiliar book on the e-reader, she quickly slips into the spell it weaves, thanks to the sexy incubus that graces the cover.

In Angel, Down, Henry is a doctor saving lives on Earth, and Tabitha is supposed to bring souls up to heaven. Somebody will win, and somebody has to lose. But maybe this time one clumsy angel and her malting wings aren't the only things about to fall hard.

They're all about to discover how one night at the Gramercy Park Hotel can change everything—with a little Suite Temptation.

Be Warned: anal sex, spanking, BDSM, abuse of heroine

***************

Kansas, 1933

Calvin is going through a crisis in his life. After facing a potential scandal at college, he returns back to the family farm only to find himself the subject of gossip and rumors. His one solace is his father's farmhand, Josh, whom he's lusted after since the man's arrival.

When chance presents itself, the two men come together for one afternoon of passionate pleasure, and they discover they have more in common than they'd initially thought. But are their feelings for each other just a whimsy, or is it something much more?

Be Warned: m/m sex

***************

Trisha, a recent divorcee, wants to explore the wilder side of sex and discover a more sensuous part of herself. When long-time client Zach Walters suggests a weekend together, she agrees. He provides her with an unforgettable night of hot, sweaty sex, while unbeknownst to either of them the tryst is being recorded.

No woman has ever excited Zach Wallace like Trisha. He’s willing to indulge his fantasies as well as hers, but he can’t afford to get too close. He has a weakness for damsels in distress and a secret to protect. Only one thing threatens their happiness—a vengeful ex-husband.

Be Warned: spanking, public exhibition, bondage, sex toys, abuse of heroine

***************

Naughty Fairy Tales

Jackie Thompson is the kiss-and-tell queen, prepared to sleep her way to fame and fortune. Her latest escapade with two footballers is on course to secure her future, but she trades it for a handful of magic beans…or in this case, the address of a reclusive billionaire.

Scarred by his past, Viktor Torok hides away from the outside world. When Jackie barges into his life, he lets her get away in an effort to protect his privacy. But he hasn’t counted on the unwanted attraction that rages between them on their second meet.

Can she break through his walls and help them heal each other?

Be Warned: multiple partners, menage sex, public exhibition, anal sex, light bondage

***************

The Cydonian Tales, 3

On the desert planet Cydonia, Lune, a naturalist and explorer, is assigned a new trainee. The young Rider is supposed to follow him everywhere to learn the skills of his trade.

Lune would gladly be spared the trouble, especially when informed that the boy has been formerly apprenticed to a vicious and abusive Rider, and likely to be difficult and traumatized. But when Laz’law, a stunningly beautiful, fiercely touchy creature enters his life, Lune has no choice other than to employ his horse-whisperer’s patience to earn his trust and win his love.

Be Warned: m/m sex

***************

Romance on the Go

After nearly four millennia, Yve, a succubus and harvester of souls, has finally met her quota. She must travel to hell to redeem her own from the devil who holds it in hock. Ta’avah, the hunky and charming minion responsible for luring Yve into sexual slavery, joins her for her redemption ceremony before an audience of ogling demons. The pair soon learn that deals with the devil are rarely settled to anyone’s satisfaction other than Lucifer’s. Only one weapon can trump those of the master of deception, but do Yve or Ta have enough humanity left in them to find and wield it?

Be Warned: multiple partners, menage sex, anal sex, public exhibition

***************

Oliver Young has been a mess since his wife died. But a chance encounter at a coffee shop on the anniversary of her death changes that. Juniper "Juni” Bloom is like a beacon of light in the darkness. His heart recognizes her as a kindred spirit, and he clutches onto her youth and vitality like a lifeline as he rediscovers what it means to truly live and love again. Will he lose her when she learns the truth about his wife's death?

Juni is a woman with a hidden past. A near death experience has given her a new lease on life and a parting souvenir. From the moment she meets Oliver, she knows he’s the man she’s been waiting for. Now she just needs to convince him.

Unbeknownst to either, a malevolent force is at work, ready to tear them apart.

***************

Gwyn moves down to the beach, and once again, she has a hot thing going with Zac and Parker. But then she gets a series of legal letters about her house, her garden, and her lifestyle. Clearly, someone doesn’t want her there.

Some expensive equipment goes missing from the golf course where Zac’s a groundsman, and he’s let go from his job. Parker and Gwyn try to soothe him with mind-boggling sex and help him search for the missing equipment. Their love sustains him, but who's responsible?

Parker hopes the three of them can move in together and be a real family. Will they ever be together for more than the occasional wild night?

Be Warned: menage sex (MMF), m/m sex, public exhibition, anal sex

***************

The Sinclair Men, 1

Blaze Sinclair is the oldest son in the Sinclair household. He’s strong and sexy as hell and craves the plump receptionist working in his office building. On the night of the Christmas party his life is turned upside down, but he’s determined to have the woman he wants.

Cassie Walker has fallen in love with her boss. She spends every day at work craving his attention. One night her life is changed forever. Broken and used, Cassie must learn to move on and forget about the man who owns her heart.

Five years pass. With a divorce and a son under his belt, Blaze comes face to face with the only woman he’s ever wanted.

Can she forgive Blaze and give him a second chance, or will it be too late for her to realize the best things in life are worth fighting for?

***************

Manlove at the End of the World, 2

Getting away from murderers was the easy part, surviving in the storm was the hard part, and inhabiting a paradise island may just lead to true love.

In the year 2014, a virus wiped out most of the population. Those that survived learned to trust in no one but themselves. Deon first laid eyes on the beautiful Chase with a noose around his neck and an angry mob ready to kill him. He was not about to let such a good-looking white boy die. Deon saves the sexy man, and it leads to a wild adventure neither of them saw coming.

Be Warned: m/m sex, rimming

***************

Romance on the Go

Tamara’s known far and wide as the girl in the red hood. Red is not only her favorite color but a way to express everything from anger to love. She hates her mundane existence. After tragedy destroyed her family life, Tamara’s become a loner who shuts out everyone, even her one-time lover, Wulfric.

Wulfric refuses to give up on Tamara, and when she yields to him, her life seems to shift back on track. But when danger hits, Wulfric steps in to make the ultimate sacrifice to save her. His life and their love hang in the balance.

***************

Walls crumble when you build a forever-love.

As a couple, the deep, sensual connection between Desi and Alec is imaginative and limitless, even though Desi’s fear that love is transient keeps her from telling her man how she feels. Fun-loving Alec, who lost his parents in a tragic accident, has found that kind of forever-love again. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep it, including giving Desi the one thing he lacks—a partner with a serious side.

With their fledgling construction company headed for the skids if they don’t finish the job on time, Desi and Alec are frantic to catch up. Enter Alec’s friend, Matt, a man haunted by the “dull and unimaginative” label his ex-fiancé pinned on him.

Working side by side, a thirst grows that seems unquenchable and each must come to terms with old hurts in order to consider possibilities never before imagined.

Be Warned: menage sex, anal sex, brief m/m interaction

***************

Naughty Fairy Tales

Darcy King has had enough. With a sexy distraction, she manages to escape from the guards at North Tower, where she has been a virtual prisoner since her stepmother sent her there nine years ago. After wandering through the forest, she encounters seven outrageous drag queens and begins dancing at their night club under the stage name Snow White.

Aric Huntsman was hired to kidnap Darcy, but finds he is helpless against her beauty. When he finds out Darcy just might be the rightful heir to her father’s fashion empire, he dedicates himself to helping her claim her birthright. So does her friend, Nick Prince.

After a poisoned martini nearly derails their plans, Aric can’t seem to get over their disagreement about which one of them deserves Darcy’s affections. Darcy is tired of others directing her life and decides to finally start taking what she wants.

Be Warned: multiple partners, menage sex (MFM), f/f sex, anal sex

***************

Shangri-La, 1

In a world where one is either the ruler or the ruled, Enforcer Josiah Marx takes a case and finds himself drawn to Rafe Zweil, a submissive with a complicated past. Josiah has given up on finding love, but the new man sparks new feelings and brings out the dominant in him.

Can the two overcome all the obstacles that stand between them to find love in the Land of Fire?

Be Warned: BDSM, m/m sex, spanking, rimming

***************

Perfect Pairing, 2

What happens when someone has humiliated you on public television? And how do you deal with a woman who has thrown a martini in your face and brought the press along to witness it? If you’re Evie Winters and Kyle Daley, you despise one another.

However, Sadie Sutton, witch and CEO of "Perfect Pairing" knows better. She’s taking a gamble on the future of her matchmaking business, determined that these two are a match made in heaven.

She’ll do anything to get them together, even if it means trapping them in an elevator that’s about to get stuck between floors and feeding Evie the most potent aphrodisiac known to witches.

***************

Romance on the Go

When Mandy Weaver witnesses her fae brethren Justin find his beloved and life-mate, her own eternal time clock ticks down to the last seconds. She hasn’t many moon cycles left before her choice to return to the heavens where she belongs is ripped away.

All because of a curse bestowed by Aphrodite and carried out by her son Eros. But Mandy can’t settle for the first man who charms her out of her clothes. If it’s not true love, she will be forced to live among the humans forever with an insatiable need for intimate contact every full moon.

To make matters worse, Eros—the god responsible for damning her kind to the moral world—wants her for his own. Can she resist the man who caused her exile, or will she submit to his charms?

***************

Club Ink, 2

Can some scars ever truly heal?

Cherie ran away from Ink once. She is not going to get the chance to do so again. But helping her heal will take all of Ink's skills as a Dom. Using Shibari, knife play, and ménage sex, he shows her that pleasure can be found in the things that haunt her.

Emotionally and physically scarred, Cherie has sought refuge at Club Ink, where she keeps everyone at arm's length. When Ink forces her to face her demons, does her submission hold the key to her future happiness? Or will their shared past destroy them once and for all?

Be Warned: anal sex, sex toys, BDSM, menage sex

***************

A Berserker Mate's Story, 3

Once inseparable, twin Berserkers, Eryck and Erulf, have been growing apart as Eryck’s magic continues to build. Teetering on the edge of an explosive realization, Eryck struggles with his emotions, especially when he dreams of Kharisma spending her nights in his arms. When one of those dreams turns into nightmare, his trust wavers. Yet the two have no choice but to trust her to lead them on a perilous journey.

Kharisma knows she’s a Berserker’s mate and has been expecting the two brothers to eventually come claim her. But she refuses to be held to a destiny she hasn’t chosen. Instead she wants to blaze her own path, as far from the brothers as possible.

When she gets a taste of what life with them is like, she runs. Overwhelmed, she has to decide if fate had it right or not.

Be Warned: menage sex (MFM), anal sex, rimming, bondage

***************

The Owners, 1

Cadeon Ashwood is a dominant man who has one problem: he’s overly possessive. When he meets Violet Moore for the first time, he knows she is the woman for him. The possessive instinct she stirs within him can only mean one thing—she will be the woman who owns his heart.

Violet is a shy young woman who is trying to make her way in the world, but she has a dark past filled with shame. She is constantly looking over her shoulder.

When Cadeon sees an opportunity to get close to the younger woman, he takes it with everything he’s got. She drives him crazy with the way she bows her head, and her innocent blushing makes Cadeon want her more.

For too long she’s lived without love and safety. Cadeon offers her everything, but will she live long enough to enjoy it?

Be Warned: light BDSM, spanking

***************

Callum O’Shea has segregated himself from a world that rejected him since childhood. His older brother, Arden, protected him from life…but even he can only take so much of the isolation.

When a young university student offers to help with Callum’s hog problem in exchange for room and board, he’s not in a financial position to refuse. He’s surprised when she doesn’t judge him for his Tourette’s Syndrome. But he’s learned that good things rarely last.

Hailey Watson tried to prove her parents wrong by being the best scientist she could be. When her research funding is cut off, her world spirals out of control. With the help of Callum and Arden, the reclusive Irish cowboys, she learns there is more to life than success at her job. But are the two hardcore cowboys capable of real love?

Be Warned: menage sex (MFM), anal sex

***************

One death. Saerileth had trained all her life for one death. From the time her clan had been massacred when she was five years old, until now, thirteen years later, Saerileth has sought one death. Now that she has attained the rank of full-blown Lotus, she has been sent by the Red Lotus guild to the foreign city of Arinport. But Saerileth has other plans, and the one death she seeks is more to her than the guild's plans for her. Saerileth's plans go awry, however, when she meets Darien, the brave soldier from her past, whom she had never expected to see again.

Darien alters everything, simply by being there, and Saerileth is swept up into a world of intrigue and assassination that makes seeking her one death even harder. But her mission of vengeance is difficult to reconcile with being the soldier's Lotus, and in the end, Saerileth's choice will affect three nations.

Be Warned: multiple partners, menage sex, anal sex, m/m sex, spanking, erotic asphyxiation.

Katherine Wyvern's "Head Shy"

Head Shy, a short story, is the third book in the Cydonian Tales series which started in December 2011 with Black Carnival. It is, however, a prequel to my debut novel and can be read before the other books as a little glimpse in the world of Cydonia.
Black Carnival is set in the capital of Cydonia, the beautiful, gothic, dreamy NeuVenedig. In Head Shy we are instead in the desert that constitutes most of the Cydonian landscape. Instead of gondolas we have horses. I always loved horses, and when I imagined the Sand Riders, I wanted them to be actual horsemen. Lune is what we would call a “horse-whisperer”, a man who will “tame” a horse rather than breaking it. It was always an important element of his personality for me, and it was nice to have a chance to represent it more fully. In this book I really splashed out on the equestrian theme!

I hope you enjoy the following excerpt. If you leave a comment with your e-mail you might be the lucky winner of a free pdf copy of the book.

On the desert planet Cydonia, Lune, a naturalist and explorer, is assigned a new trainee. The young Rider is supposed to follow him everywhere to learn the skills of his trade.

Lune would gladly be spared the trouble, especially when informed that the boy has been formerly apprenticed to a vicious and abusive Rider, and likely to be difficult and traumatized. But when Laz’law, a stunningly beautiful, fiercely touchy creature enters his life, Lune has no choice other than to employ his horse-whisperer’s patience to earn his trust and win his love.

***************

A taste of what's in store...

When Lune entered the small locker room by the stable yard he was a bit disappointed to hear the water running in one of the showers. He was tired, dusty and sweaty, and he really just wanted to scrub himself clean and then go home. The thought of meeting somebody and having to chat and be social made him feel vaguely sick.

He wondered who had stayed at the yard so long. It was a holiday, after all. He unbuttoned his shirt quickly and stuffed it into his locker, hoping to hide in a different shower before whoever it was came out, but it was too late. The water stopped, and the shower door opened. He turned to look and nearly keeled over senseless when Laz’law, of all people, stepped out of it. He had a towel around his middle and was dripping wet. He had a dark, combative look in his eyes, but he relaxed somewhat when he saw Lune.

“Oh,” he said, “it’s you. I had no idea you were even around today.”

Lune sat down on a bench and with some effort said, “Came to trim some horses. For a friend. Thought you were off with your pals.”

“Oh, no,” said Laz’law, “I didn’t go after all. Too busy. I studied, and then I came to play with the mare for a while. Trustworthy, see? And by now I can tell you anything you could possibly want me to know about every bleeding plant, beast, and bug that lives between here and Arnia. You’ll have to take me with you. I’m your living encyclopedia. You’ll need me.”

He flipped the towel off his waist and began rubbing his head with it.

“Mh-h,” said Lune, out of general considerations that this wasn’t a good moment to trust his voice. He watched Laz’law in something like a stupor while the young man rubbed the towel on his head, face, and throat. He was lean and sculpted like a racing thoroughbred, with not an inch of softness about him, and every muscle bow-string-taut under the shiny, wet, dark skin. His chest bulged out exactly enough, strong without heaviness; his stomach was as neatly and squarely lined as a chocolate bar, and his cock …

Laz’law took the towel off his head and looked at him.

“Come on, man, ask me any question! Test time!”

“Uh …” said Lune, looking down. Don’t look into his eye, he thought. Never let a shy horse know you are after him. Never cross his path. Approach sideways, make for the shoulder. Keep your head down. Don’t look into his eye. Don’t look into his eyes. Don’t look into those damned eyes, Lune.

He swallowed. “I don’t know. Tell me about snakes, to begin with.” He bit his lower lip. Snakes? he thought. Can’t you be a bit more obvious, you demented old sucker? He crossed his legs tightly to keep his fast-growing hard-on from showing.

Laz’law launched into a fast-paced description of every living species of snake known on Cydonia, specifying size, coloring, habitat and distinguishing features. He did sound like a living encyclopedia. Lune wondered when he had done all this reading, but then, like so many other rebellious youngsters he had known, he was scarily keen when he put his mind to it.

“And these are the snakes you can eat,” Laz’law said proudly, before rattling out the whole bleeding list of them. Lune bent down to lean his elbows on his knees and his forehead on his palms, aiming for an overall look of weary but concentrated attention and peering at him sideways, from under his thumb. It would keep the bulge in his pants out of view, but he was going to die of it. He made a mental note to wear somewhat softer trousers next time he was around Laz’law.

Oh lord, he thought, shifting painfully, so this is the day I get a sprained cock, yes?

Laz’law stood there talking, exhibiting his nakedness now with the total forgetfulness of the true sportsman. He had toweled his breast dry, and his skin was like matte bronze. But some water still clung in the hollow of his throat, and one drop began a shiny descent along his torso, outlining every perfect bulge and groove of his chest and belly. He had two twin silver-derm tattoos on his chest, paw-prints of sorts, as if a particularly loving and artistic panther had dipped its feet in silver paint and then laid them on his breast, side by side. Lune swallowed again. Another drop of water ran down Laz’law’s body. He toweled the inside of his legs and his narrow, perfect hips. He passed the towel under his balls, and round his cock, which fell back and bounced around, inviting…

***************

Head Shy @Evernight

Head Shy on Amazon

Katherine Wyvern on Facebook

Katherine's Blog

Katherine Wyvern @Evernight

Katherine Wyvern on Amazon

A Light in the Darkness XIV

Today's grammar blog is about another issue that has come up to bother me. I will try and explain.

Did you catch it? Did you see the error? No? Try and find it.

There it was again!

“Try and” is the problem.

Here is another example.


INCORRECT

“Spock, try and scan for some life-forms on the planet.”

Putting it this way is likely to get a withering Spock eyebrow lift and a disdainful response.

“I can scan for life-forms, Captain, but what am I supposed to try to do?”

"You can start by not being a jackass."

CORRECT

“Spock, try to scan for some life-forms on the planet.”

“Yes, Captain.”


Why is “try and” incorrect? Unlike some expressions, such as “different than” (also usually considered incorrect), the reason “try and” is wrong is visible in the expression itself. What is Kirk asking Spock to do? He is asking him to “try” something and to “scan for life-forms”. If Kirk wanted Spock to make an attempt to scan for life-forms, then he had to, as in the second example, ask Spock to “try to” do it. Otherwise, Kirk is asking for Spock to take two actions, both making some sort of attempt, and scanning.

"I'm smirking, Spock, because you've got your phaser set to 'try'."

It is simple enough. If you want Spock to try, tell him so. If you want him to try to do something in particular, remember not to ask him to try in addition to that!

As for the “different than” mentioned above, that is a bit, well, different from the “try and” example. At some point in the early to mid-eighteenth century, “different from” became the primary expression, eclipsing “different than” (in American usage). Eventually, it became the only expression considered correct, and it is still the one recommended by, say, Strunk and White's Elements of Style. However, the reason for the change was merely fashion. There was nothing actually wrong or incorrect or nonsensical about the “different than” expression. Now, “different than” and, in British usage, “different to” are making a comeback. Still, “different from” is considered the most correct form, and if you are in doubt, use it.

"Hmmmm ... WWAD?"

Spock is different from McCoy in many important ways.

McCoy's plans are different than those of Kirk.

However, there is one thing to remember in using a “different from” construction. The two things being compared need to match. You need to make a parallel construction.

And apparently the new Vulcan death grip is different from the old one.*

INCORRECT

The Klingons are different from the Romulan weapons.

Here we are comparing two things that are dissimilar, but we are not making any sort of statement about them that is of any use. Of course the Klingons, sentient beings, are different from the Romulan tools of destruction. (Notice that because I was making an illustrative comparison, despite their dissimilarity, that sentence was correct.)


CORRECT

The Klingon weapons are different from the Romulan weapons.

The Klingon honor code is different from the Vulcan devotion to logic.

Who cares? They both kill you horribly, from the inside out!

Both of those are correct. Both sentences are comparing things that can actually be usefully compared.

Until next time, keep your grammar candles burning!

*Bonus points if anyone can point out the error of this statement. :)

Lace Daltyn's "Forever Men"

Hi, Adonis and everyone! Thanks for giving me a chance to introduce myself and my newest story, Forever Men. This is my first time on Boundless as the Sea, and I’m excited to get the chance to chat. My name is Lace Daltyn, and I hang out in Twilight country where the weather is determined by how visible Mt. Rainier is.

I’m a weather-junkie and a people-watcher. I love emotional reads with Happily Ever Afters and, if I’m being completely honest, Hugh Jackman. He at the top of my lust-list, although, I have to say, True Blood’s Joe Manganiello is nudging Wolverine’s #1 spot.

I started writing erotic romance because, in my opinion, more than any other genre, fantasies get fulfilled. Having a husband in the construction industry, it was a natural backdrop for me to tell Desi, Alec, and Matt’s story. I’ve always loved the strong, silent heroes, and Matt fills that role in this story. Alec, however, is a fun-loving prankster, and I was amazed at how much I enjoyed writing such a free spirit. Desi is the glue that pulls them all together.

Tell us what the book's about...

Walls crumble when you build a forever love.

As a couple, the deep, sensual connection between Desi and Alec is imaginative and limitless, even though Desi’s fear that love is transient keeps her from telling her man how she feels. Fun-loving Alec, who lost his parents in a tragic accident, has found that kind of forever love again. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep it, including giving Desi the one thing he lacks—a partner with a serious side.

With their fledgling construction company headed for the skids if they don’t finish the job on time, Desi and Alec are frantic to catch up. Enter Alec’s friend, Matt, a man haunted by the “dull and unimaginative” label his ex-fiancé pinned on him.

Working side by side, a thirst grows that seems unquenchable and each must come to terms with old hurts in order to consider possibilities never before imagined.

***************

Give us a taste...

Desi glanced down to the empty dirt yard. Where the hell was Alec, anyhow? She’d sent him to pick up materials two hours ago.

Right on cue, a black truck raced up the treed lane and squirreled to a stop in front of the house, sending a dust cloud skyward.

About time.

When Alec jumped out and grinned up at her, Desi’s irritation started to fade.

He bounded up the stairs, brushing his shaggy blond hair back as he joined her and wrapped tanned arms around her waist.

“Hey, Gorgeous.”

When his eyes brimmed with amusement, as they did now, Desi found it hard to stay annoyed with him. She tried, pushing against him. “I’m mad at you.”

Alec threw his head back and laughed. “You can never stay mad at me.”

The smile she tried to hide refused to cooperate. Staying mad at Alec was just too damn hard. Everything about him was designed to make the world seem perfect, from his construction-hardened body to the almost constant gleam in his eyes. When Alec was near, it was easy to believe The Dream. Desi sobered as she looked around. Things were a far sight from all right at the moment.

“We’re so far behind, Alec.”

“Trust me,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know...” Desi chewed her lower lip. Alec always saw the bright side of things, sometimes to the exclusion of the issues they needed to solve.

Alec took the hammer out of her hand and let it drop to the plywood sub-floor. “It sounds like you need a distraction.”

The flash of his dark eyes as they inspected her from toe to head started a familiar fire deep in her belly. “Oh-h-h, no,” she stuttered. Desi backed up until a two-by-four, part of the wall frame, stopped her. “No way, Alec. We’ve got no time for that.”

Together over a year now, she still couldn’t get enough of him. When he turned on the charm, like now, the man was irresistible. But they couldn’t. Not now. Not today.

The look in his eyes crumbled her resolve further. He stepped closer, and heat, both familiar and delicious, spread between her legs.

“We can’t, Alec. We’re so far behind schedule.”

“What’s a few more minutes, then?” He leaned in, his lips grazing her neck, strumming an already taut thread of need.

Arousal swept away the last vestiges of hesitation, and Desi wound her hands into Alec’s hair. “Work can wait.”

***************

Thanks, Lace, for stopping by!

Where you can pick up this novella:

Evernight Publishing
Amazon

Where to find Lace:

Blog
Website
Facebook
Twitter

Amber Rose Thompson's "Primal Needs"

Boundless as the Sea is happy to introduce and get to know more about author Amber Rose Thompson! Amber's going to start off by telling us a little bit about herself. (I'll just say that we've not had anyone like her on our site before, so read below for the details...)

***************

I write under the pen name Amber Rose Thompson. Why don’t I use my legal name? Well, I don’t want to be fired from my day job, now do I? By day, I am a public librarian working in the metropolis of New York City. I write the kinds of books that will never be offered at my library or even considered. And that is why I use a fictitious name. It is a bit sad to promote reading by day and hide my own writing while doing so. Before work, on lunch break, and after work I write hot, erotic tales that I hope will make readers squirm and fan themselves. My one major hurdle in writing is my kitten who believes laps are for sleeping, not laptops. With this hindrance, I often write one-handed, and not for the reason your dirty mind is thinking. I hold the laptop with one hand and type with the other so my little bundle of fur can purr in her sleep. My muse for writing is my lovely and amazing partner whom I’ve been married to for sixteen wonderful years. We all must get our inspiration from somewhere after all. My marriage is an interesting one: while we have been married for awhile, we actually have two marriage certificates. You see, part way through our marriage we both transitioned to the opposite gender. I told you my marriage was different. I am a trans man writing under a female name, talk about gender bending and mental games. I want to share with you all a list of my books and some of the reviews I've received.

BOOKS
Primal Needs
Sanya’s Nights
Pushing Boundaries
Scheherezade’s Gift
Taken Bi Love
Tied To Passion

REVIEWS

"Amber Rose Thompson is an excellent writer." - Laura Antoniou, author, The Marketplace Series

Scheherezade’s Gift: Beth’s Wild and Crazy Book Reviews- “Wow talk about a hot sexy book…who knew going to the bookstore so often would get you a magical book that gets you laid by the man of your dreams.”

Tied To Passion: Sizzling Hot Books Reviews- “Tied to Passion is not for the faint of hearted...I would recommend Tied to Passion to those who enjoy erotic romances...”

Tied To Passion: BDSM Book Reviews- “ Based on sex scene alone, I would have rated this book a 4 paddle because it made me want to jump my husband after reading it....I recommend this book for BDSM light readers who like to read about a bringing an innocent to the dark side.”

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Why mix erotic BDSM with the paranormal?

No one has directly asked me why I have a tendency to mix paranormal with my erotic BDSM tales, but if I was a reader I’d be curious, so I’m guessing there are people out there who want to ask but haven’t. This blog post is for you.

There are many different reasons to write romantic influenced, erotic tales with a BDSM backbone and a flair for the paranormal. Is that enough use of adjectival words to describe what I write? Oh, I forgot LGBT friendly as well. I like to be all inclusive. In case you are wondering, I have a huge smile on my face right now, and I’m trying to figure out if there are any other adjectives I could throw in, but I think I’ll stop for now.

All I can speak to is what inspires me, of course, and the one driving theme behind all I do is power: power games, power play, gaining power, losing power, wanting power. Clearly, power is something that fascinates me. Perhaps it is because the only power I had as a child was to make my parents angry, maybe it is because growing up everyone ignored me, or it is fathomable that power simply fascinates me because it is the one currency all groups, people, times, and governments have whether in positive or negative amounts.

Power is what drives nations to war, whether direct power over bodies or power over minds. We are power hungry animals at heart. Some of us want to dominate while others want to submit, but mathematically it is a matter of adding or subtracting power, taking or giving, demanding and receiving or forfeiting and giving.

Still, we have hang ups about talking of power when it meets up with sex and naked bodies. It can help to create distance by using non-human characters to show the brunt capability and sheer audacity of power. This is why paranormal creatures like vampires, werewolves, werehyenas, etc intrigue me. It is a way of discussing the heart of power without stepping on psychological toes and still luring a reader into a very hot and sexual story that hopefully will leave them panting.

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Helena is a dom in the board room, separating people into those she can control and those she must eliminate. But she is about to meet a creature far more dominating than her. When she becomes a vampire’s prey, her world crashes down around her. For some monsters are better left to the dark. Helena must tame this hunter's heart or face eternal life in death. Another masterpiece of fantasy, romance and bondage by Amber Rose Thompson. Primal Needs has everything a fan of romantic BDSM needs - and then some!

CHAPTER ONE

Constantine angled the chauffeur's cap down to shade his eyes from the setting sun. Behind the darkest of sunglasses, his eyes watered to prevent corneas from splitting. A few more minutes of pain, then the sun's rays would be below the horizon.

He leaned his back against the limousine, and felt the car shudder as his weight bore down from an angle the designer's never intended. Methodically he clenched and unclenched his hands, muscles flexing under a jacket already stretched to the maximum, causing seams to snap a few threads in defeat.

Waiting was the worst when it involved the hellhole of L.A. days. Rome was far better with the subterranean tombs and vaults. He missed Rome. L.A. only had water under the soil, what a waste of a large land mass with so many inhabitants. But L.A. was where she was, and he'd tracked her here from Rome.

His cell phone buzzed.

Reaching into the inner pocket of the jacket, he flicked the phone on without hesitation. As his mouth opened to speak, his body went rigid and straight. Game time, he licked his lips quickly, before resuming the chauffeur appearance of understated indifference.

"Speak, it's clear." He checked himself. Playing the minion was grating on his nerves. "I mean the line is clear, Sir. She hasn't summoned me yet." He chuckled throatily; making sure the phone was far enough away not to pick up on his vocal vibrations.

"You in place?"

Constantine heard the sweat beading up on the man's skin from across the phone. Did the man even know Constantine scared him? Probably not. Joe Smith, as Constantine nicknamed him, couldn't deal rationally with fear and would chalk it up to high blood pressure.

"Yes, Sir." Constantine tried a salute, but found it too humorous to bother.

"Where are you?"

The guy really thought you kidnapped a high ranking business woman by talking directly to the hired thug? "I'm outside the Palmer building standing by the limousine. The secretary called me to be here in ten minutes."

"So you're early?"

Give the big man a bone. He got one without too much mental ordeal. "That's correct, sir."

"Good, make sure you take no detours and bring her directly to the holding location. See to it her cell phone is disabled. We can't afford her alerting the authorities."

Well, duh. Really this man didn't deserve to get his hands on Helena Palmer, and he wouldn't. "Of course, sir, all taken care of."

The phone went quiet in his hand. Constantine didn't have to look at the phone to speed dial Jason. The connection crackled then went clear, probably the damn sun polluting the airways.

"Constantine."

"We are a go." Constantine felt his legs take the last brunt of the sun and his eyes begin to dilate back into the comfort range.

"Do I make ready for you tonight or wait? I'm already at the warehouse. Men can be here in twenty."

Constantine had hired Jason on a whim and kept him around for intelligence. Constantine suspected Jason could turn alpha were the situation right. Jason was too good at second guessing him for a spark of telepathy not to be present, waiting to ignite. Jason was good, maybe too good for them to continue working together much longer.

"Call them in." Constantine's eyes squinted, trying to shut out the sun.

"Normal protocol? Or special care?"

"Special care, this one will be devourable. I want ones with total control." Constantine forced his eyes open.

* * * *

Helena Palmer rolled the red scrunchy down her hand and cinched it around her wavy hair, pulling red curls up away from her neck. The white of her skin bespoke failure in getting herself out of the office to enjoy a good baking in the summer sun.

Her invisible arm hairs prickled at the thought of heat flushing her peach skin into cardinal red burns. Sometimes a little pain was worth it. Afterwards, she'd have the most luscious tingles and itches that made her take notice of every inch of her body. There would be no problem sitting erect for days on end after one hour of being bikini-clad in the surf.

She kicked off one of her black satin pumps to bury her foot in the carpet and imagine sand seeping up between toes with the squelch of trapped water brimming over and sucking her foot down further into muck. It was so close. If she opened her window and leaped over a few buildings there she would be, just her, sand, and the waves drowning out the incessant chatter of boardroom meetings and whispered secret knives already unsheathed.

Looking at her watch, she put her shoe back on. The moving hands of the watch confirmed what her view said, the sun was setting and another day missed of seeing the ocean without plate glass between her and the salty air.

At this rate, she'd be lucky if she ate dinner at home. Nothing tempted her growling stomach that didn't have the added crunch of sand whipped into it from a stiff breeze picking up white foam and tossing it onto the beach.

She cuffed the side of each bronze highlighted cheek to bring her mind back into the game. Sand would have to wait; she had an acquisition to prepare for. Come tomorrow, she would be adding Clark Trading to the group of assets her family commandeered.

L.A. was losing one more start-up business, and Palmer Enterprises gaining another brokerage. All that stood in the way of an easy and quick acquisition process was convincing the losers they were being merged into Palmer Enterprises rather than eviscerated.

Helena bent her long neck from side to side, enjoying each pop and grind her vertebrae made as the discs relinquished the vise grip lock on her spine and let her slip back into the chair, her feet no longer touching the floor. Inadvertently a sigh escaped her tight lips and her head lolled back until it hit the high back of her chair. And she was back on the job.

Moving to the edge of her chair, she shifted old papers out of the way, and moved a new pile into her prime focus point. It was time to decide which marketing letter to use tomorrow for employees coming into Clark Trading and discovering they were assets of Palmer Enterprises.

A smile flicked across her lips before settling back to a monotone expression. She woke her screen up from sleep mode and watched as the network absorbed the Clark mainframe and altered calculations to include the new juicy bits she'd just fed into the coffers.

Her nostrils flared a bit longer than her smile had lasted, and her stomach churned along with the alterations in the daily tallies. She hungered for meat, the rawer the better. She pulled her pinpoint stare away from the computer and fanned out the marketing letters.

No one reading the letter was going to care about artful writing, no matter how many times they read and reread the letter after the initial adrenaline wore off. What they wanted to know was if their paychecks stopped or not. Hell with it, any one would do.

She took the letter from the bottom of the pile and brought it to the top. It would keep the masses subdued long enough for the new manager's welcome speech.

A sharp rap on her door saved the chosen letter from being mutilated by her spindle. The door opened without her having to address the intrusion. Backlit by the brighter lights outside, her secretary stood framed by the door with Helena's jacket over an arm and purse and brief case in hand.

Reny stepped in far enough to be officially inside and no further. "Your jacket and purse, ma'am."

Helena's face remained motionless.

Reny stood firm under the watchful interrogation.

"I see that. The question is why you have my jacket and purse. I did not ask for them." Helena folded her arms on the desk, crushing the rejected letters.

"Yesterday you told me you were to be evicted from your office by 7 PM whether you summoned me or not." Reny held her arm away from her body so the jacket remained uncreased. "And you decided to enter my lair without permission." Helena opened up a drawer to her left and shifted amidst the contents, then closed it.

"I figured either way I could lose, ma'am, so I went with the last direct order you gave me. I couldn't figure out a way to evict you without coming in."

Helena pushed her chair back and stood up. "How long have you been working for me?" She marched around the desk to face Reny off a body's length away.

"Three years, ma'am." Her stiff hands prevented the purse from swaying.

"Add a note to tomorrow's schedule. Put down I am to give you a raise. Oh and send the top letter to marketing for final write up." She took the briefcase and purse from Reny and moved around the motionless girl.

Reny snapped in place behind Helena's heels, following her boss out into the foyer and pushing the elevator button before Helena needed to. "The chauffeur is at the main entrance. I will call down to let him know you are a minute away."

Helena moved into the elevator without answering; she turned around and caught a last sight of Reny's stoic face before the doors sealed her in and shot her down to the main floor automatically. The girl had definite potential. Time to up her task list and see how she coped at commanding and delegation.

Doors opened for her as she walked out of the building. She stopped short on the sidewalk when what she expected to see differed with reality. The standard sedan, of which they owned three, wasn't there. Instead, a stretch limousine monopolized the drop-off zone, forcing pedestrian traffic to find an alternative method off the curb rather than the ramp.

Nina, no, Reny, was good. Just what did the girl have in mind? The hulk of a chauffeur towered over the top of the car, even nicer touch. Had Reny handpicked him from the agency? He certainly wasn't one of the chauffeurs on the payroll. A body like that wasn't forgettable. She would wager a good bet that he walked silently like a big cat on the prowl and could clear a sidewalk without even a glance. He was someone she could definitely use around more, very nice.

She watched the jacket fail to hide the lines of his bulging muscles. Just who or what was he intending to pounce on? Now here was a guy she should have at Clark tomorrow to keep the payroll in check.

She found her tongue fighting to get past teeth to lick her lips. Down tongue, not in daylight where enemies could be watching. Her nostrils wriggled. Why?

She detested cologne; it masked the real smell of a man. As he got closer, her nostril could not be stilled, and her stomach growled, or was that her throat? Reny was definitely getting a raise tomorrow, and double what she'd originally intended.

His hand engulfed the handle of the rear door and ratcheted it open. She almost felt pity for the metal under his grip, almost. She couldn't help but wonder what that grip would do to bone and sinew for both good and bad. He screamed bodyguard in the making, and her father had been on to her to get one with the last batch of threats against her.

He tipped his cap at her while opening the door. Stepping back to let her in, his jacket brushed the tips of her fingers. It had to be static electricity, but Helena would have sworn her body jolted back a step or two. Could blood percolate, because something like soda water swished through her veins?

She tried pulling herself together to get into the car with dignity, but his hand came out to hold her arm, steadying her as she ducked inside and sat down. Sweat formed where his hand was, sealing her silk top and jacket together, so she felt like her clothing shrank while her lungs worked overtime.

It wasn't until the door closed on her, and she tracked the shadows through the shaded windows stating his location, that she noticed there was a glass of champagne poured for her and that she no longer had her purse. When the hell had he taken it? This was certainly not normal protocol?

She was formulating a complaint when her mind registered three things coming together so quickly she would have sworn it was mechanically controlled. The backseat doors locked, the window between her and the driver closed, and the car started.

Well he didn't waste any time in performing his duties, though she would have to censure him on absconding with her purse, at least her briefcase was still with her. Not his place to think what she would need, even if he was right. That was definitely a spark of forward thinking she would be strangling before much more time passed.

The car revved into park mode. Curiosity rarely was an attribute blamed on her, but exactly where was he taking her? It wasn't Reny's job to decide her destination, but with the champagne and limousine clearly the girl had something in mind and well the night was young.

How much was the guy behind the wheel willing to do for his payment? She pushed the talk button. "What time were you scheduled for?" She needed a few basics to formulate a plan.

"As long as it takes."

To the point, very attractive and so full of innuendos. Was Reny really this good at calculating her needs? There was only one way to find out. After all, rest and relaxation always required a bit of extracurricular activity and a good orgasm would do just the trick. His body screamed the ability to hold out until she was satiated. Clearly he could hold her down if needed so she didn't dislodge a shoulder or hip.

She pushed the talk button again. "To the Seaside Hilton then." It wasn't plausible to take him home like a good little puppy trained to lick appropriately, but the Hilton knew well enough to keep a room at the ready for her and to have all eyes covered.

* * * *

She was looking around. Her shoulder and head twitches declared she was calculating her placement, trapped animal or safe zone? God she was gorgeous. Through the rearview mirror, Constantine watched her check him out then turn her head away.

He forced his hands to clench around the steering wheel then open. One clench, two, three, shit, four, five, six. He couldn't let her get to him. He needed to repeat the gesture. Seven, eight nine, he could do this.

And ten.

The glass and plastic between them was nothing more than a wisp of mist that could be cleared with a good blow of his primed knuckles. This close, nothing prevented her scent from filling up the car and his nostrils. He really didn't need more proof, but the spiked champagne was clear cut, not even the strongest of his desires could contrive up such evidence for his wants. If it took her down...

She leaned back into the plush seat now, unbuttoning her blazer. Her shoulders rolled back, straining the top button of her blouse the button struggling to keep her breasts covered from his eyes. Strapless bra, interesting, she didn't like to be confined more than necessary.

His pants tightened, and he had to shift in the seat, which reminded him the car was still in park. He didn't want to start up until she had taken the first sip, but how much longer was she going to make him wait?

There it was. Her fingers moved to the glass, stopping to feel the coolness on her fingers and luxuriate in what was about to cross her lips. His own tongue curled up in his mouth wanting to shout for her to go faster. God she was killing him.

Yes, the glass was moving in an arc that culminated in her lips. What were her teeth like? Would she make him wonder by barely parting her lips? Damn, she was a tease. The rim of the glass glided past the pout of her lower lip, and her head tilted ever so slightly back.

This woman would make a killing on Madison Avenue. Those lips alone could sell vodka to someone allergic to alcohol.

And touch down. Cup lowered, he watched her throat for signs of a swallow. God, she was savoring the taste, moving it around in her mouth. Her jaws moved side to side as if saying 'no' to him.

God damn it swallow. And there it was, going down. How far down did her throat go? How much could she take without gagging? Closing his eyes to rid himself of the thought, he missed the final descent of the liquid churning past her esophagus and heading down to the stomach held in by the tightness of her skirt.

His eyes opened with a snap. How much had his meditation cost him? Ah, good. She was putting the cup down, and a little sloshed over the side of the rim and beaded down the fluted sides to pool on the tray. Her head bobbed, eye lids closing while she slid down into the seat, collapsing in a heap, head against her knees.

Blood had spoken and vindication was his. No one would question him ever again after a few weeks. He'd pegged her from the first sniff in Rome and all the shadowing and wrangling to get this gig was pay dirt. Constantine arched his neck back and howled, sound-proof cars rocked as did tinted glass. Humans did have some usefulness with their inventions and he'd let some live. But they really had to do something about L.A.

Crunching the gearshift into drive, he careened out of the cul-de-sac and let other driver's yield to him as he merged with traffic. A flick of his eyes showed a very lovely woman had fallen sideways in the back of his car. Saliva ran down the sides of his fangs, and he wiped the liquid residue that didn't get swallowed back onto his sleeve.

Game time.

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Thanks, Amber, for stopping by and sharing so much with us!

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Dariel Raye's "Sable"

We would like to welcome Dariel Raye to Boundless as the Sea and are proud to present the first book in her Dark Sentinels series!

Dariel Raye is an award winning author of paranormal romance, and every day of her journey is a learning experience. She's also a counselor, musician, and animal lover, so she'll periodically segue into things music-, animal-, or psychology-related. Her passions, though, are all-conquering love and romance. Enter Dariel's world where werewolves, vampires, shifters, angels, and all things paranormal will capture your heart!

Sable, a sentinel wolf shifter, is captured and locked in his wolf form until Akila, a veterinarian, tries to tame him and unleashes a 6'5" baby blue-eyed surprise. Dr. Akila Marshall is a veterinarian with a calling – save as many stray animals as possible. The only child of wealthy, yet distant, parents, she’s convinced that love is not for her. Until…

Sable’s search for his twin sister leads him to Akila. Born into a rare species of wolf shifters whose main purpose is protecting others, he has always been forced to fend for himself, but Akila’s loving, protective nature draws him – and not a moment too soon. Together, they must learn to trust each other enough to overcome a new, deadly enemy.

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Who Are The Dark Sentinels? 

They lived millions of years ago, fatalities of fear and prejudice. Now, answers to a prayer for survival, they are among us again. Other shifters were nearly extinct, murdered by the thousands at mostly human hands. Capable of shifting at will, without the aid of the moon’s phases, they were born to protect them. Bigger, stronger, faster, and longer living, with highly developed preternatural abilities, they are prized outsiders among their packs. Prized for their ability to protect, yet destined to live as outsiders because of the very differences necessary to prevent the pack’s extinction.

Born to stand at the crossroads between pack-members and their slaughterers, Sentinels quickly learn that they are on their own – a different species. Born human, only two are born to each pack, male and female alphas, brother and sister. Pack members deny them mating privileges within the pack based on fear. No female wants to bear a sentinel because their lives are constantly at risk. When danger comes to the pack, they are on the front line, considered expendable.

When they reach mating age, they leave the pack for a time to find a mate – another sentinel. What happens when a sentinel develops feelings for a human? What happens when malevolent scientists learn how to strengthen humans by using sentinel blood? As you can imagine, with their feral nature barely beneath the surface, Dark Sentinel passions run high. Touch, affection, and loyalty are necessary for their survival, and they are willing to go to extraordinary measures, risk everything, and break every rule for love.

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Find Sable on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, and visit Dariel's blog and other blog to find information about her books and music! You can find her on Goodreads and Twitter, too!

A Light in the Darkness XIII

For today's blog, we are going back to an older topic, that is, words that are easily confused with one another. These pairs have been pestering me lately, and that means they get a blog thrown at them.

The first of our pestering pairs is “loose” and “lose”. I almost never actually see “lose” written anywhere anymore, and it hurts me deeply. “Lose” is a perfectly fine word. It is not difficult to read or spell, and it is not an unusual word—but it is disappearing. “Loose” shows up in its place, as in the examples below.

INCORRECT
“Where is your phaser? Did you loose it on the planet?” asked Kirk.

“Of course not, Captain. How could I loose a phaser?” asked McCoy, trying to hide the empty holster at his side.

Jim! Not in front of the Vulcans. You can "loose" my belt later...

These sentences will not trigger spell-checks, of course, as “loose” is a word. Nor will these uses trigger a grammar check, even if—as most are not—it is actually a good grammar checking program. That is because it is possible to use “loose” in these sentences, but it changes the meaning. For instance, in the above examples, Kirk is asking McCoy if the doctor had turned his phaser free to wander the planet. McCoy answers that he has not done this. Nowhere has either man addressed the issue of McCoy misplacing the phaser.

Galactic grammar nerds revenge themselves on this red shirt for "loosing" his phaser.

Here is a more appropriate usage of both words.

CORRECT
“Where is your phaser? Did you lose it on the planet?”

“Of course not, Captain. How could I lose a phaser?” asked McCoy, trying to hide the empty holster at his side.

“Where is your phaser? Did you loose it against the planet?”

“What the frak, Captain? I'm a doctor, not a villain! I'm not going loose a phaser on a primitive and helpless planet!”

But I just loosed something on Sulu. LOL

“Lose” is the word that means, in the sentences above, “to misplace”. “Where is your phaser? Did you misplace it on the planet?”

“Loose” can mean “to release” or “to shoot”, as it does in our phaser example. Usually, it is wanted, however, to mean “not tight”.

INCORRECT
“Your girdle is working well, Captain, and your uniform is lose.”

CORRECT
“Your girdle is working well, Captain, and your uniform is loose.”

This is not usually a problem because “loose” is the word most people seem to use.

Psst! If you tell anyone about my girdle, I'll kill ya. Carry on.

There is another pair of words that are causing me fits as well, but they are more closely tied than “loose” and “lose” are.

“Breath” and “breathe” are, in my experience, being confused.

“Breath” is a noun. You can do things to your breath, such as hold it, let it out, have it come short, and so forth.

“Breathe” is a verb. You do not do things to “breathe”; you breathe.

INCORRECT
“Spock, hold your breathe! Your space suit has a hole!”

“Captain, I cannot breath at all.”

Yeah, no shit, Captain. So does yours, by the way.

When using “breath” and “breathe” remember “death”. “Death” rhymes with “breath”, and they have the same ending. Without “breath”, “death” will come. Otherwise, use “breathe”.

Until next week, keep those grammar candles burning. (And don't hold your breath waiting for the next candle blog!)

A Light in the Darkness XII

Today's entry deals with point-of-view, oftentimes called POV. I will not be detailing the shades of gradation between various types of third-person POVs, at least not today. I will make do with a broad differentiation between close third and omniscient third, and move on from there.

But first things first.

First person narrative is all about “I” and “me”.

I wandered through the forest, frightened and alone, looking for the alien who had stolen my phaser. It was getting late, and I would need to be beamed up soon. When I find that alien, I thought, I will vaporize him, just as soon as I get the phaser back.

And I'll do it in period costume, just to make your death more humiliating.

Straightforward enough, right? Because “I” am the narrator, it is usually fairly easy to keep this one in the proper POV. If “I” don't know a thing, say, where the alien is, then it cannot show up. But even in first person it is possible to fall into the Star Trek trap.

What is that, you may ask? The Star Trek trap is where the captain, in this case Kirk, makes a captain's log entry, saying “But unknown to us, a totally new and unusual disease has been brought aboard.”

If Kirk does not know it, then he cannot make a log entry about it. This should be your axiom when examining POV. “If Kirk (the POV character) does not know it, don't show it.”

And be careful you don't jettison pod, either.

Second person narrative is about “you”, and it has almost no applications outside of choose-your-own-adventure books, so I will skip it for now.

Third person is the most common POV in which to write, and in the past third person omniscient was popular.

This POV type was in everyone's thoughts, everyone's point of view. You could write the following, and it would be acceptable as third person omniscient.

Kirk shook his head. The last alien he had taken to bed had had some sort of rash, and now he had it. He hoped it went away before he had to let McCoy take a look at it. He was supposed to meet up with that girl again in a week, and he wanted to be healthy by then.

If I had a rash, I'd name it "Marta".

Unknown to Kirk or his alien chick, neither one would make the rendezvous. The alien's planet would be swallowed up by a black hole and be redistributed throughout the galaxy as radioactive particles.

No one in the story, neither Kirk nor the alien, can know about the coming black hole catastrophe, but the “narrator”, the omniscient story-teller, does know.

Third person omniscient, however, does not often follow the inner workings of a character too much. Perhaps this is why it is currently unfashionable. Regardless, it is unfashionable, so we will move on to the most common POV nowadays: close third.

Close third uses much of the first person POV limitations, but transposes it from “I” to “he” or “she”. Here is an example of close third POV.

Spock wanted to roll his eyes, but he did not give in to such human expressions. He contented himself with raising an eyebrow. “Indeed, Captain?” He tried to put infinite disdain into the words, but he was not sure if Kirk even heard him. Spock sat down heavily on his chair and ran his fingers over the cold knobs and dials of his science station.

But when he thinks he's alone, he does give in.

We see what Spock sees and have access to his thoughts, but we do not see what he does not. We do not know if Kirk actually heard him, but we do know that his science station has cold knobs.

In close third it is possible to switch POVs, but it is best to do with with a proper scene shift demarcation (or even a new chapter). DO NOT HEAD-HOP.

Yes, I know that there are skillful, published authors who do this, but do NOT assume that it is all right to do just because so-and-so does. Once you have mastered POV sufficiently to be able to head-hop without it jarring, you will know these rules already. Do not break a rule unless and until you know how to keep it and know exactly why you are breaking it.

What is head-hopping? Skipping from one POV to another, and often back again, in the same passage.

Picard is not impressed by your head-hopping. How do you think he lost his hair?

Here is an example of head-hopping.

Kirk watched the swaying posterior of the alien as she walked away. She might be green, but she was shapely and attractive. He promised himself that he would get her to bed within the week. “Warp factor two, Mr. Sulu.”

Spock clutched his fingers convulsively. Sulu was supposed to be Japanese, but his name had an “l” in it. Spock was only half human, but even he knew better. And the captain never seemed to notice. Why did no one notice this?

Spock forced his thoughts back to his time travel calculations, as Kirk smiled inwardly at his romantic plans for the evening.

I must kill Spock before my secret gets out!

Not only do we move from Kirk's thoughts to Spock's, but we have a sentence at the end that is in both's POV. Spock is the only one who knows where his thoughts are, and only Kirk can know about his own inward smile.

***************

Remember our Kirk axiom?

If Kirk doesn't know it, don't show it. That works for close third person POV, too. If you want to switch from Kirk's POV to Spock's POV, you can. But you had better flag the change by having Spock make his own log entry.

Until next week, keep those grammar candles burning.

Rebecca Brochu's "Love in the Land of Fire"

We would like to welcome Rebecca Brochu for the first time to Boundless as the Sea. Her new release, Love in the Land of Fire, has just come out with Evernight Publishing!

Tell us what this book is about, Rebecca!

In a world where one is either the ruler or the ruled, Enforcer Josiah Marx, a dominant who’s almost given up on finding a partner, takes a case and finds himself drawn to Rafe Zweil, a submissive with a complicated past. Can the two overcome all the obstacles that stand before them and between them to find love in the Land of Fire?

***************

Give us a taste!

“Shit!” Josiah immediately holsters his gun, wraps one hand around Rafe’s shoulder and spins him around until they’re face to face. Anger flares through him, anger at himself for not recognizing the other male sooner, anger at Rafe for not being where he was supposed to be in the first place. It all comes spilling out of him before he can think twice about it.

“What in the fuck were you doing? What in the hell possessed you to leave the apartment? I’ve seen your test scores, Zweil, so you’ve got no excuse for acting like a fucking idiot!”

Josiah shakes Rafe hard once before letting go of the submissive as if burned. Raking a hand through his blond hair he stalks towards the nearest switch and turns the dial all the way up until the apartment is flooded with light. In the now bright room he can see Rafe’s face clearly, can see an anger that matches his own rising up in the man, which is at odds with the mostly meek behavior he’s shown to Josiah since they’ve been together.

“I wasn’t aware that I was a prisoner, Marx, or that you’re apparently my warden. Although I suppose that was a foolish assumption to make. After all a cage is still a cage even if the bars are pretty this time around.”

“Damn it all to hell, Rafe, that’s not what I meant and you fucking know it!”

“Are you sure about that, Josiah? Do you really not want to keep me locked away, hidden from the outside world like every-fucking-body else seems to?”

Josiah has no control over himself as he lunges forward, buries one hand in Rafe’s silky hair and yanks the submissive forward. Their lips meet harshly, all teeth and no finesse and Josiah runs his tongue roughly along the seam of Rafe’s mouth, a pleased growl rumbling in his chest when the he opens for him. Josiah sweeps inside, his tongue tangling hotly with Rafe’s even as he begins to crowd the submissive against the nearest wall.

They fit together perfectly, the long lean plains of Rafe’s body slotting into the more thickly muscled valleys of Josiah’s as if they’d been carved from the same single piece of stone, broken and divided and only now reunited. Josiah groans low in his throat at the feel of Rafe pressed against him and his cock hardens instantly at the combined sensations of touch and taste. Rafe echoes his groan and the sound of pleasure from the submissive doubles Josiah’s arousal, making him helpless to do anything but press closer, driving their bodies together and Rafe further against the wall.

Their tongues slide against and around each other, spit slick and eager to taste, to consume one another. Josiah knew it would be like this, knew it would be perfect and all-consuming the moment he laid eyes on Rafe. His hand loosens its tight grip in Rafe’s hair and slides slowly through the cool, thick locks to curl firmly around the back of the submissive’s neck, unable to control the impulse to completely dominate the other male. Rafe breaks the kiss, gasping for air and moaning openly as his head tips back, pressing deeper into the grip on his neck and exposing his throat and collar to Josiah’s hungry gaze.

It’s an instinctual move, the desire to show off for a dominant, the urge to entice a fitting and worthy partner with his unclaimed status, and the sight of it has Josiah practically snarling in victory. Rafe wants him as well, wants to be claimed on some level as much as Josiah wants to be the one doing the claiming. If he didn’t, if their desires didn’t match to some degree, Rafe would not respond so beautifully, would not be showing off his collar and trying to entice Josiah into claiming him.

His hand tightens slightly, as his head dips down until he can taste Rafe’s neck, can rack teeth and tongue across the tempting expanse, and suck tiny bruises into the vulnerable skin. He runs his tongue across the smooth surface of the collar, tongue flirting with the inlaid rubies and dragging lightly across the sensitive area where silver meets skin. Rafe bucks against him and Josiah tightens his hand in reprimand, pleased and aroused when he can actually feel Rafe’s knees weaken at the silent command even as the submissive obeys and stills.

Josiah pulls himself away from the mesmerizing taste and feel of Rafe, dragging his lips and tongue up across the exposed side of his neck so that he can whisper hotly in the submissive’s ear.

“Such a good boy, Rafe, such a sweet, beautiful boy. You were made to be ruled, made for me to own.”

He claims Rafe’s mouth in another searing kiss, reveling in the breathless gasp and shaky moan it prompts.

“You’ll be so pretty for me, won’t you? So sweet and delicious when I have you begging, wanting what only I can give you. I can’t wait to have you bare and spread open before me.”

Rafe shudders, a full body tremor that Josiah can feel perfectly, and it goes straight to his cock. He urges Rafe’s arms above his head with his free hand before grasping them both tightly and pinning them back against the wall. He feels Rafe go still against him, the tiny, almost unnoticed rocking of his hips stopping abruptly, but it doesn’t really register with him, doesn’t penetrate the fog of lust and need that’s slowly taking him over.

“P-Please, Josiah.”

The plea comes out quietly, almost too quietly, and when Josiah hears it he takes it as a plea for more, more touch, more sensation. Just more. So he rocks his body against Rafe’s again as he mouths at the sensitive skin behind his ear. He loves the feel of his cock rubbing against the submissive’s, even muted as it is by the multiple layers of leather and cloth. It’s a heady feeling, something he wants more of even though it’s enough to drive him mad. He wants Rafe bare, wants to feel all of that silky skin against his own as he takes the other man down and apart.

“Oh the things I’ll make you do. I’ll make you love me and what I can give you.”

***************

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