If I Can't Have You...I Don't Want Nobody, Baby!

Friday, February 3, 2012
TGIF! TGIF! TGIF!

Good morning everyone!

I hope everyone has had a fantastic week! YaY!

Today I'm excited to celebrate the release of my steamy, YA Romance - IF I Can't Have You...

Yay!

So I'm going to be sharing another snippet with you :)


There are two major reasons why I stayed behind; one I don’t want to push and shove my way through all the people and two because I might miss an opportunity to see and talk to Drake without Whit or Elliot being around. When it comes to the guy you’re crushing on, three is a crowd, but four is a sold out concert. There’s no intimacy when you’ve got to share a conversation four ways.

A flash of gold glimmers in my peripheral vision and I see Drake as he shoves his way through the crowd. He’s headed straight for me and instead of being bold, I do the exact opposite, I clam up. I can’t understand why I’m so nervous now. I mean, we’re not in a remote setting or anything. We’re swimming in a sea of people. What do I say? What do I do? How do I act? And how did I manage to play it so cool when I was on the beach with him earlier today? Maybe I was at ease because Elliot was there too.

“Kid!”

He’s only inches away from me now and suddenly I feel like I have TMJ and some surgeon has just laced wire through my gums to correct it.

“So you made it,” he says softly as he plants his feet across from me.

I nod. He smells like the ocean mixed with his own personal brand of cologne. He’s wearing a white cotton button up shirt with the first couple buttons undone and a sheer foray of perspiration glistens on his bronzed skin. I stare at the opening. I want to run my fingers along the wetness. I want to slip and slide against his essence.

The fact that I can’t speak makes this encounter awkward. I need a drink. Yeah, that’s it. Once I have a drink or two I’ll loosen up. I think.

Drake smiles at me and inside I’m a smoothie, a bunch of fruit and ice thrown into a blender, spinning. I’m being crushed together to make a delicious concoction, a delicious concoction that Drake will want to devour in one gulp.

Drake moves closer and my spine stiffens. I don’t know what to do. He rests his warm hands on my shoulder blades and his touch sets me on fire. And I’m so pissed at myself for blowing this moment.

For the last three years this is all I’ve thought about. For the last three years this is all I’ve wanted. All I’ve wanted is for Drake to notice me and feel for me the way I’ve felt for him. I finally have my chance and I’m letting my nerves get the best of me. Inside I’m screaming; you moron! Stop standing here like a twit and say something! Do something! But it doesn’t matter if I tell myself to do it. It doesn’t matter how many times I scream at myself to make a move. I know I won’t.

Drake’s lips are against my ear. His warm breath caresses my earlobe and I sigh completely consumed by my desire for him. “You look really pretty,” he whispers.
The word ‘thank you’ is lodged in my throat being kept down by my nerves and a wad of saliva as thick as honey. I want so much more from this moment. I need so much more from this moment. Inside I’m begging for his kiss. I crave it. I’m a Drake kiss-a-holic. Just send me to rehab already.

I hope you guys enjoyed this snippet and I hope you get a chance to check out If I Can't Have You!

Have a GRRREEEAAT weekend!

Cheers <3

Criticism... How do you deal with it?

Monday, January 30, 2012
Good morning, readers!

Ahhh it's another Monday. I hope everyone had a great weekend and is ready to start the week off right.

Today's post is about criticism and how to deal with it.

When I decided to enter literary land I don't think I was even remotely prepared for what all of it entailed. I just said hey, I'm going to write a book. I'd always been a reader, I'd taken some great writing classes, and I'd won some writing contests when I was a kid, and was always dreaming up stories and writing them down.

My Mom still looks at me oddly every time she sees me when I mention something involving the literary world and shakes her head. "You're such a dreamer, Laur," she tells me.

And I always reply with, "What's wrong with being a dreamer?"

I love my Mom and she's supportive, but she just doesn't get it.

Where am I going with this?

I'll tell you.

In the writing world we open ourselves up to criticism all the time. And it's part of the profession. Whether we get criticism from our Cp's, readers, editors, agents etc... The list goes on and on.

What's important is how we handle it. And how we learn and grow from it.

I can tell you this I wrote the first draft of my first book when I was nineteen years old and it took me eight years, to find myself as a writer and I'm telling you this, I still learn something new every day.

LOL. Sometimes I wish I could rewind time and teach the nineteen year old Lauren the things the twenty seven year old Lauren knows.

But I don't have a time machine.

Yet.

And I'll tell you something else; There is absolutely nothing wrong with admitting you don't know everything when it comes to your craft and there is absolutely nothing wrong with asking for help.

If you can't handle the criticism that accompanies literary land than you're not ready for the next step in your career.

I know it's hard. It sucks really, when you pour your heart and soul into something and you get it back from you CP, agent, editor, or even read a review from a reader, and they don't really think it's as great as you do.

But...

As a writer, or anyone in the literary field, there's a certain amount of professionalism you should display.

1. Be prepared for harsh feedback. You're gonna get it sometimes and honestly, I think that's the best kind. If you can't handle it, step away from the keyboard and take a breather because once you get further into your career you're gonna get even more of it and if you can't handle it before you've been published...

Well I think you get the picture.

2. The beauty of the world is that everyone is different and not everyone is going to like what you've written. Even though, for the most part, I always like to think positive you have to look at the negative aspects of the industry logically.

Nobody is out to get you. People want to love your book as much as you do. But that's not always the case. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and you may not see it that way, but it's their opinion, not yours.

I like to use a line from something my aunt said to me when Famished first came out and I got my first not-so-pleasant review for it. She looked at me and said, "Sweetheart, you have to be prepared for these things. You have to be able to learn how to take it. There are millions of people in the world and not everyone is going to think the same thing. Some people aren't going to like it and some people will love it. And the best advice I can give you is work hard, learn from your mistakes, and grow as not only an author/agent, but as a person."

And I have...Trust me.

3. Try to inspire others. I always try to be enthusiastic and positive and I always try to find something good in everything. That's just me. And most importantly, I try to encourage writers to hang in there and never give up because no matter where you are in your career, if you take the time, put in the passion and effort, someday you'll get all the success you deserve.

This industry can be frustrating. We all know this. And I can't tell you how many times I've had to talk myself out of giving up... But I didn't and neither should you.

I'm gonna throw another family example and this person is the main reason why I never gave up in this field. My Grandpa John. He's 82 and still truckin. LOL.
I'm from a very small town and there's not much of a creative outlet at all. So, I get a lot of comments from my family, (even though they are supportive at times) about me re-thinking my career.

On top of the dreamer comment my mom likes to say, "Why did you pick the hardest career to try and succeed in?"

Because Mom...That's who I am.

Then my grandmother will add, "Lauren, you're not going to succeed here.You need a different kind of job."

And this is what my grandpa does every time my grandma makes that comment. His big blue eyes go wide and he looms behind my grandmother shaking his head, and whispers, "Don't listen to her. I'm so proud of you. Keep doing what you're doing."

It's remembering those conversations that have kept me going. Thank you Papa. I love you...(Not trying to get mushy... I'm just saying...I hope everyone has someone like my papa. Because in this difficult field we all need someone like that in our corner. We all need someone to give us that extra push in the right direction, especially when the going gets tough.)

I think it's beautiful thing when a person who has worked so hard achieves every goal they've set out for themselves.

In the agenting world I set a mini goal for myself when I started. I said I'm going to try and sell at least one of every one of my clients' books. So far, I've reached the 50% mark and I'm proud of that. I've only been agenting for 11 months, so reaching that goal for me was a huge accomplishment. I tell my girls be prepared for the happy dance because I usually jump up and down and squeal with delight when they get an offer.

Yeah... I'm hyper. I think I drink way too much coffee. LOL.

4. Lastly, write, write, write... I get new ideas daily. And you never know which book may be "the one" for you. If you've discovered yourself as a writer and know your strengths pull from that. I know you've got that best seller inside of that brain of yours somewhere.

I hope some of this helps you guys!

Have a great week!

Cheers!

Pick A Genre...Any Genre... And Brand Yourself.

Monday, January 23, 2012
Happy Monday Readers!

I hope everyone had a great and relaxing weekend! Well now it's Monday. Time to get back to work!

Today's post is going to be about branding yourself as an author. I know. I know. I was just like you. I'd say to myself why should I limit myself? Why should I focus on one area where there are so many other possibilities?

I don't know about you guys, but I like to challenge myself. I like to pick challenging subjects and write about them. Hence the love triangle in He Loves Me... Or book 2 Love Without Words in the pandemic series.(Which by the way, I'm going to attempt to write an entire book without dialogue. Tricky,tricky, I know.)

But I'll tell you this....

Branding yourself is important. It is where you discover yourself as a writer. And I'll tell you something I learned about myself. I'm a romance writer. Whether it's a dark romance--like A Whisper To A Scream--or an fun summer fling romance like--If I Can't Have You. Romance is what I'm good at. That's my brand. And that's what I'm going to focus on in the future. And do you know how many books written it took me to learn that? Let's just say...A LOT.

Everyone is different. Some writers are good at one genre, but not so good at another. And I will say the most important thing we can do is write book after book and learn from ourselves. Deep down inside you know what your strengths and weaknesses are.

A lot of times we have to explore our writing capabilities. Sometimes we have to write several different books before we write "the one", and figure out where we want to be as writers. But what's more important than anything is that we dive in head first and never give up the fight.

I hope you've found something helpful in this post. And now for a lil treat! I've pasted a snippet from If I Can't Have You below. I hope you enjoy it and have a great week!

Cheers! <3

For a moment neither one of us moves. We’re mesmerized, swimming in each other’s gazes. Slowly Drake slides his fingers up my waist, locking my hips against his. Then he sits up, still staring, not breaking his focus.There’s sand all over his arms and the rough texture scratches against my burn skin, making it feel raw. He glides a free hand up my spine and I shiver as my shirt slides up and I feel his moist fingers against my back. He gently pulls the hair tie from my hair and my shoulders are covered in waves of chocolate cherry locks. “I want you,” he whispers. “I want you bad.”

And I want him. Oh how I’ve wanted him. For years and years and years. And this moment seems a little surreal to me. That finally, after all this time I finally get what I’ve wanted. What I’ve coveted. What I’ve adored.

I twist the thick straps of his wife-beater around my forefingers and urge his lips closer to mine with each tug. He’s so close his warm breath trails along my cheek bones and heats my face. His lips are so close and if I I move an inch mine will touch his. “You do something crazy to me, kid.”

And he does something crazy to me too. I’m a nut job in a mental institution. Clearly incapable of functioning normally and Drake is the orderly he comes to me every morning to deliver my pills. Without him I’ll be crazy forever. Only he is capable of getting rid of the insanity because he is the cure to it.

How To Grab Your Reader By The Throat....

Friday, January 20, 2012
Happy Friday readers!

I hope everyone has had an amazing week!

Today's post is about pulling in your readers from page one.

Some writer's struggle with an engaging first chapter. I know I am one of them. A lot of times when I'm writing I have to back in and change things at a later time because sometimes our characters don't always speak to us when we want them to. I don't know if that's true for you guys, but it definitely is for me.

Even when I'm reading subs or queries I want to be whisked away from the first page and a lot of times that doesn't happen. Your job as a writer is to dazzle your audience with your story-telling skills and grab them by the throat.

Now I will say that there are some of my books that aren't as good as others, but the important thing is that I learn from every book I write. And I think that most writers do as well. But here are a few helpful tips on how to engage the audience from page 1.

1. Always have something going on. Even if it's minor. Even if it's just your MC brushing their teeth.

2. Put feeling into your characters. It's like a doctor who asks how you feel about something. Ask yourself the same question. How would my character feel about this? Novels are not all about descriptions, grammar, and world-building. Feelings have a lot to do with the way your reader relates to the characters and how are we supposed to like them and relate to them if we can't feel what they are feeling.

3. Bring on the tension.

4. Don't rush it. God, there have been so many times where I've felt like I've rushed things in my books and I wish I could back and change things. Pacing in a novel is very important, so take it from me and learn from some of my mistakes lol.

5. Don't be afraid to cut things. I know. I know. We're all soooo attached to our characters. We love them. We feel them. But...Sometimes we have to cut out some of their scenes. Some things drag your novel down and slow down the pacing and you have to be willing to cut some areas to make things work. I know it sucks, but sometimes it has to be done.

Now hopefully you've found some of these tips helpful.

Have a great weekend everybody!

Cheers.

New Book, New Cover, and some news!

Monday, January 16, 2012
Morning readers!

So.... it's been forever since I've written a post.

First off I have a new YA Romance coming out! YaY! I've pasted the cover below & blurb... I'm super psyched about it.


One is lonely. Three is a crowd.

Robin Mason has never been the same since Drake Robertson, a hot lifeguard at her family's yearly vacation spot saves her from drowning. Ever since that day she's never let another guy hold a candle to him. She's idolized him and has been waiting for the day where they can go from Facebook friends to more. Much, much more.

Flash-forward three years and Robin isn't the same tween Drake rescued from the deep blue sea. She's college bound, curvy, and finally ready to take what she wants most--Drake.

But not if Drake's brother Elliot has anything to say about it.

Robin is torn between what's right and what's wrong, her head and her heart, and two brothers that are simply irresistible. But who will she choose? Safe, sweet, Elliot? Or the hot, smoldering, Drake?

Two brothers. One Girl. One choice. So which will it be?

Also.... I'm going to take Asphodel down. There are some errors I've been made aware of and I'm going to be taking it down in the next week to make some corrections to it.

Lastly, after If I Can't Have You comes out on Jan 31, I'm taking a much needed break and the first book that will be released out of the one's that have sequels will be the sequel to A Whisper To A Scream, Yelling Out Loud on March 20.

On the agent home front I've some awesome news to share soon, but as of right now I have to keep everything hush-hush. BUT.... I will say that I'm going to be accepting queries for romance novels. Both adult and YA are welcome.

AND.... I really really wish some of you would query me with some dark novels. Like YA horror or suspense. Unfortunately, I'm not accepting anymore Paranormal Romances at this time.

I think that's about it.

I hope everyone has a stellar week!

Asphodel Book Birthday!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Yay!!!!!!

So I'm super duper excited that Asphodel releases today! Yay!

You can buy you eBook copy at either Amazon, B&N, or Smashwords and the paperback will be available for pre-order starting Thurs. :)

I also have some more good news!

My lovely client Kelly Hashway's book, Touch of Death sold in a two book deal to Spencer Hill Press for publication in Jan 2013. Yay!

I have got two more deals to announce, but have to wait a little while longer before I announce them. *sighs*

That's all for now, I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Cheers!

Hopefully there's more awesomeness to come in 2012!

<3 Lauren

Asphodel Chapter One! And New Novel Announcement!

Tuesday, December 6, 2011


Hello readers!!!!

I know it's been a while, but I have been a busy little bee.

With the release of Asphodel in 14 days (eeep!) and agenting I've been absent from the blog-o-sphere for a couple weeks and for that I apologize.

Also, I've been working furiously on a new novel which will come out in eBook a week after Asphodel. :)

Remember how I said I was going to write a zombie romance with no dialogue....Well I've decided to split it up into two books and the first one, Infect Me (Pandemic 1) will come out Dec 27, 2011... But yes.... this one does have dialogue... The second book Love Without Words will not. So that should be interesting. :)

Today I' have a special treat for you. Along with the first chapter of Asphodel, I'll be releasing a snippet of Infect Me. And if you want to you can add infect me on goodreads here.

Soooo i'm super excited to share these with you! So let's start it out with Asphodel, shall we?

Asphodel~ Chapter One ~ Hades

Sirens howled in the distance followed by honking car horns and tires peeling out. Hades propped himself up against a building and watched with a blank expression as an ambulance hurled around the street corner, it’s white and red lights turning in a circular motion.

A man lied in the middle of the street. His limbs were twisted and broken and blood oozed from every opening on the man’s face. His chest rose up lightly and even though he was feet away, Hades heard the man’s raspy, wheezing breaths. The Commander of the Dead felt the man’s life slipping away. With every weak breath that escaped the man’s lungs, he crept closer and closer to Hades’s grasp.

The man was hit by a bus. It was tragic, really. Hades had seen it happen, yet he did nothing to prevent it. That was the way the world worked. Mortals were born and died everyday. It was not his place to interfere, even though he could if he really wanted to.

Police blocked off the scene of the accident with bright orange cones and yellow caution tape and a crowd of onlookers had formed to watch as the paramedics placed the unknown man on a guerney. Women cried out and a few of them were being comforted by their male partners. Hades closed his eyes and began to feel bits and pieces of the man’s life flash before his eyes. This occurred everytime a soul was about to cross into his realm. This gave the God of the Dead the ability to administer proper judgement and proper placement once the souls of the departed reached him.

Using his invisibility cloak, Hades faded into the chaos of the crowd and hovered over the dying man. He reached out, prepared to latch onto the man’s wrist and pull him under when he’d heard a wild shriek in the crowd. “Jake! Jake!” Hades straightened up and looked over his shoulder as a woman sprinted through the crowd of onlookers, pushing and shoving the ones in her way. Her strands of chestnut hair slapped against her cheeks, her ivory cheeks were flushed and her eyes were rimmed in red. She howled out another painful shriek. “Jake! No! No!”

Hades stepped back as the woman reached the guerney and hurled her body over the dying man’s. Agony flashed in the woman’s hazel eyes as she ran her trembling fingers over the man’s mangled face. She sobbed, her voice strangled as the paramedics and police officers tried to pull her off the man. “No! No!” She fought them off, her arms flailing, her legs jetting out as she tried to kick the cops and paramedics. “Don’t die on me, Jake! Don’t die on me! I love…I love you!”

“Ma’am, we have to get him to a hospital!” a paramedic cried. “He needs medical attention!”

After a few more strenuous attempts the cops were able to pry the woman off of the man, they escorted her to the ambulance and helped her into the back. And she sat there, sobbing into her palms while the paramedics loaded the body. Once the guerney was secure, the woman laced her fingers through the man’s, lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed the man’s fingertips.

Hades waited until the paramedics closed the ambulance door before appearing inside. He watched the woman, a fierce loving look in her eyes as she brushed her thumb against the man’s limp hand. Her emotion struck Hades in a way he hadn’t been struck in centuries. He felt for her. Normally when he witnessed death he remained indifferent and just accepted what had occurred, but for some reason he couldn’t understand this situation seemed different.

Maybe because he knew what it was like to love someone and watch them slip through grasp eternally. He’d been after his love for at least five thousand years. Chasing her from state to state, city to city, and from continent to continent. He’d suffered in pain every time he lost her. And he’d lost her a lot.

Standing there in the ambulance, persuaded by his own feelings Hades did something he rarely ever did. He leaned over the dying man’s mouth, sucked in a deep breath, and breathed life back into him. The man’s eyes flew open and he coughed out, gasping for air. The woman’s eyes bulged out and she cried tears of joy as she kissed every bruise on the man’s face.

A soft smile crawled across Hades’s lips as he vanished from the ambulance and returned to his realm. He sat down, rigidly still on his throne and gazed out into the black abyss of nothingness known as the underworld. The realm in which he was the tyrannical ruler of. He peered over his should to his right, then to his left. The quiet engulfed him until all he heard were his own thoughts.

At times he cursed Zeus for damning him to a realm of nothingness, death, and despair, but then again there were times where he’d also praised Zeus. Hades had never been like the other God’s and Goddesses that previously dwelled on Mount Olympus. The wicked and despicable things he was capable of would haunt them to the core. He was sure of it.

Through the centuries, the tasks of running his realm had become tedious and repetative to Hades. The task of damning the souls that had crossed the river Styx into his domain was becoming tiresome for the deceitful king. Of course he still had Cerberus, his dog, man’s best friend. Cerberus had proven to be extremely loyal. At times the three headed beast’s howling and barking would annoy Hades to the point, where he considered cutting off all three of Cerberus’s heads. But that was only a mere thought.

The gentle giant of guardian hobbled into the throne room, all three tounges hanging out. The dog whimpered and let out a soothing yelp as Hades gently stroked the dog’s middle head. “Good boy.”

The God of the Dead’s attention averted to the grandfather clock in the corner of the room and Cerberus’s spine stiffened as Hades rose up from his throne. “Stay,” he commanded the three headed dog whom Hades called his only loyal companion over the last five thousand years. Cerberus howled and lied down on the floor, lowering all three of his heads in a gesture of obiedience.

Hades lips turned up into a wry smile as he walked out of his throne room. Perhaps his kindness today was a sign. Perhaps he was close to getting her. The one and only person he’d ever loved. The Goddess he’d been chasing for the last five thousand years.

****


It was fifteen minutes to midnight and Hades, God of death and destruction, paced along the banks of the river Styx with his hands balled into fists at his sides. Charon was late with today’s shipment of souls and that left Hades feeling uneasy. Hades didn’t like uncertainty. He ran a tight schedule in the realm of the dead and when the impervious schedule was interrupted, well, he knew Charon would be wise to stay away from him for the rest of the day.

He stopped mid-pace, kicking grey sand and focused on the fog, rising from the brownish, green murky waters of the Styx. There was an internal clock in his brain, ticking and as Hades closed his eyes he envisioned the hands of the clock moving as the minutes dwindled by. Filled with worry and impatience, Hades tapped his foot, folding his arms and drummed his fingers against his elbow. Anxiousness unfurled beneath his skin like a flesh-eating parasite. “The one day that I need him to be on time and he’s late,” Hades growled as he began pacing again.

Sand crunched as the rubber soles of his boots smashed it down and the noise richocheted off the walls of the cavern—the opening—the crossing where the land of the living met with the land of the dead. The slick brown stone walls glistened with sludge, a slmiy residue from the Styx’s choppy waters. Hades’s eyes centered on that sludge as he thought about all the punishment’s he’d have in store for Charon if he took any longer. But, before he came up with one, the soft plunking of wooden oars throbbed in his ears. Then the plunking intensified turning into slapping. Charon was close.

Hades stood on the edge of the dock as the old, feeble ferryman parked his ship, full of the dearly departed and descended down the rope ladder. Charon stood before his master clutching the brim of his hat, his fingers trembling. “I’m sorry master. So sorry.” Charon lowered his head and few wisps of white hair stood up while the lighting bounced off the bald parts.

“What was the hold-up?” Hades asked, gruffly.

Charon kept his head low, talking at his feet.“We had an indecisive soul, sire.”

An indecisive soul was the soul of a mortal who was stuck in the between, not quite in the land of the living, but still not able to cross fully into the land of the unliving. Hades scanned the row of occupants on the ferry, infuriated. “Which one was it?” His tone was flat and cold.

Charon lifted his head and nodded at a teenage boy in the back of the ship. “Him.”

Hades glared at the boy pre-adult boy, whose hazel eyes glistened with tears. Seconds later, Hades disappeared, reappearing in front of the boy. Fear crept up the mortal’s spine and he stiffened, unable to move. Then he started shaking. Hades examined him, hoping to scorch him with his gaze. Rage bubbled inside of the mighty God and Hades boomed, “Aren’t you a man?” The boy lowered his head and Hades blanched as he sniffled. But the boy did not answer.

“Answer me!” Hades screamed, shaking the entire ferry. The other passengers turned, eyeing Hades, fearfully.

“I’m, I’m only fifffteen,” the boy whimpered, stuttering at the same time.

Hades exhaled as the rage inside of him died down. He relaxed his stance slouching over, slightly. Even though, the young boy had taken too much of his time and Hades contemplated sending him to the depths of Tartarus, he knew couldn’t. Not because he wasn’t able to, but because despite his cold demeanor and mischevious ways, He had always been a fair and just God. And the boy didn’t deserve to spend an eternity being tortured endlessly. “Stand up,” He instructed the teen, calmly.

The boy rose from his seat, trying desperately to lock his trembling knees in place. Hades placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and the young teen blanched, turning away. “Do not fear me,” Hades said boldly. Slowly, the boy turned toward Hades, peaking up at him from the corner of his eye. Then the God of the Dead closed his eyes and recited the same thing he’d recited for the last five-thousand years. “The realm of the dead welcomes you. Go forth and find your home in the Field of Asphodel so that you may live out your eternity in peace.”

Every soul on the ferry vanished. They’d been assigned to their forever. And then Hades vanished, appearing in his throne room. Walls of black and matching black marble tile floors engulfed him and he sat back on the red, velvet cushioned throne. He looked up at a cast-iron clock on the wall. Seven minutes to midnight. In seven minutes, he’d have another opportunity to take her, hopefully his last.

He recalled the first time saw her in the Hall of the Gods, trailing behind Demeter. Her mahogany hair glistened red in the sunlight. Her skin was a creamy peach color. And her eyes were the most stunning shade of Jade-green he’d ever seen.

Hades had been chasing Demeter and her daughter for five-thousand years. And in the past, Demeter was always able to out-smart him. Demeter had always kept her daughter close—too close.

But Hades had a feeling that during this seventeen year span it would be different. He would finally get what he’d always longed for. A queen. Or who he’d always longed for, Persephone.



And now a snippet from Infect Me(Pandemic 1)

“Good morning, beautiful.” Trevor’s voice fills up every part of me. I hear him in my head, in my ears, and in my heart.

I exhale as he clutches on to me tightly. “I’m sure beautiful is way too much of an overstatement.” Even I’m frightened of my own relfection when I stare at it first thing in the morning.

Trevor hovers above me and smells clean like fresh water and dove soap. I roll over, facing him and he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear before placing a soft kiss on my forehead. My eyelids flutter and I gaze into his melted sapphire blue eyes that are only an inch away from my face. “Did you sleep at all last night?” I ask, concerned.

“Some,” he answers me in a soft voice. I know he’s lying. He’s like a hardass who lies about the pain that accompanies a broken bone. He’s always trying to make things seem less than what they really are. And when he says he got ‘some’ sleep in Trevor code that means he didn’t get any.

“Why don’t you try to go to bed?” I sit up. “I’m going to go shower.”

He folds up his arms and nestles them behind his head. “But it’s so bright out. You know I can’t sleep during the day.”

I stop on his side of the bed and lace my fingers through his. “Just try, for me. Please. I’ll feel better if you do.”

“Fine,” he sighs, defeated. “But only because I hate to see you upset.” I try to pull away from him, but he lets out a soft laugh, yanks on my arm, and playfully clutches my waist before pinning me down on the bed.

His fingers glide up my shirt and wander over my stomach as goosebumps rise all over my skin. He’s half on top of me and my knees go up instinctively as his fingertips dig into my stomach. “Trevor,” I giggle. “That tickles.” He crushes his lips to mine and brushes his tongue over the tip of mine before backing out of the kiss and falling back on the bed. I prop myself up on my elbows and frown. “What was that for?”

“The kissing?”

“Yeah.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying that I can’t kiss the love of my life?”

“No.” I crawl toward him and caress my lips against his. “I’m saying that you’re a tease.”

He smiles brightly. “No I’m not.”

I straddle him and slide my hands up his abdomen. “That kiss was very tease-worthy, Trevor George.”

“I wasn’t trying to tease you,” he says sincerely. “I was trying to give myself something good to dream about.”


Hope you guys enjoyed this!

<3 Cheers!