Seducing the Duchess

That was kinda, almost deep. A story of strength, courage, growth, and (if you ever saw Serendipity) jackassery.
Philip, our hero, will do just about anything to win his wife's forgiveness and love. Including seducing then divorcing her. Wait, what? Yep. Seducing then divorcing. But you have to give the people what they want. Say it with me. Give the people what they want! And Charlotte, Philip's wife, wants nothing short of divorce.
And he'll give it to her. Right after she teaches him to be the ideal husband.
I won't tell you exactly what my Sherlock Holmesing uncovered, but I was right; conspiracies and cover ups galore! So go get your Heff jacket, your Bart Simpson bubble pipe, and a magnifying glass and get to work.
Enjoy. xoxo

First Look: Seducing the Duchess

Ashley March, Ashley March, Ashley March. Whatever am I going to do with you? Probably nothing, but I am going to review your book. And as I am 3 chapters in, that means it's once again time for a First Look. This time, Seducing the Duchess.
Now this one's interesting. The man trying to seduce the Duchess is no other than (drum roll please!) HER HUSBAND!
No, you read that right. HER HUSBAND. Not only that, but he kidnaps her. Serves her right, the unfaithful doxy. But I smell conspiracy, I smell cover up! (Congrats if you got that reference.)
But I leave you now. I have to go get a black clay pipe and a smoking jacket so I can Sherlock Holmes the truth out of these two not-so-happily married persons.
Enjoy. I know I sure will. xoxo

A Most Scandalous Engagement

Am I drooling? It must be because Peter is scrumdiddlyumptious. Talk about a sweet man, what a man, what a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man. (What a mighty, mighty good man.) He loves her, but she loves this guy over here. ( Sorry for all the song and movie references already. But not really. Get over it.) Now that Elizabeth no longer needs his protection, she wants to break off their fake engagement.
Only problem is, Peter doesn't want to. The past few weeks have made him fall even more in love with dear Elizabeth. Not to mention all the stolen kisses and naked carriage rides through the park.
But if you love something, set it free, and that's just what Peter does.
So wait. The guy doesn't get the girl?
Come on, people! Get with the program. It's called a romance because it has a happily ever after. If not, it would be called main stream fiction. Of course the guy gets the girl. And her naked picture too!
Enjoy. xoxo

First Look: A Most Scandalous Engagement

I open this First Look with an evil grin. I can already tell A Most Scandalous Engagement will be, well, most scandalous. Gayle Callen surely knew what she was doing.
It all begins with a guy and a girl, childhood friends Lady Elizabeth and Poor Peter. They always kept each others secrets and Peter has always been there to protect Elizabeth from her wild ways.
Can you guess it yet? Yep, Peter is madly in love with Elizabeth and has been for years, but Elizabeth thinks of him as "dear, sweet Peter." Ouch. How can a man put such an unattainable woman on even ground?
When she poses for a nude painting and needs protecting in the form of A Most Scandalous Engagement.
Enjoy. I know I sure will. xoxo

Till Dawn with the Devil

Wow. That took an unexpected twist. Or two. The guy still gets the girl, don't get me wrong, but I didn't see that coming until it was in my face saying, "I'm not touching you, I'm not touching you!" (Note to self: punch the next person to do that.)
Ms. Alexandra Hawkins, our author, plays the game rather believably. The characters don't magically overcome their pasts, Sophia's eyesight isn't miraculously restored, and Reign isn't a mega jerk while courting her. The Boogeyman is still very much present until the end of the book. It's just that our heroes learn to deal with their nightmares. Kudos to them for taking their lives into their own hands.
And fellas, (yeah?) don't be afraid to read this because it's a romance. If nothing else, standing in the Romance section could get you a phone number or two. ;)
Enjoy. xoxo

First Look: Till Dawn with the Devil

Yep. It's time for some bad, bad romance. It's that time when I start craving junk food (the waking hours). As I write, I'm eating a Hershey's bar and drinking a Coke. First up: Till Dawn with the Devil by Alexandra Hawkins.
The book opens with our hero, Reign, a Lord of Vice. And I feel so sorry for the man. Due to past events and a broken heart, he no longer believes in love.
Until Sophia walks across the crowded ballroom.
Will her ruined eyesight be able to see the gentle man beneath the Rakish mask society has thrust upon him? Of course. After all, it is a bad romance.
Enjoy. I know I sure will. xoxo

The Memory Eater

I am a rare breed; a mutation. As far as I know, I am the first, and only, of my kind to grace the night.
They call me Memory Eater.
Some odd years ago, a plague was released on Earth. Scientists called it a miracle drug. It was supposed to better humanity. Instead, it's been slowly forming roots in the souls of man. Those infected gained sustenance, only, from eating the brains of other humans. I believe Hannibal was among the first. If not, he brought the disease, the plague, into the limelight.
Then there are some that are... resistant to the feeding. Those are the Newly Made; the ones made from the Originals the scientists experimented on.
And then there's me. I was 24 when it happened and freshly married. My bride did not survive.
The one who made me was Basil. He was the first Original. They chose him because of his Alzheimer's. The med student in charge of his meals was his first victim. Being Chosen by Basil is the highest honor of our kind. But my "gift" holds only horror.
So I traveled the world, endlessly, trying to hide, to run, from my fate. I am scorned by the ones who made me. I am shunned by the ones who had known me. I am feared by those I would prey on.
Now, I live in a cave high in the Catskill Mountains surviving off animals like a heathen. But that isn't what I wish to tell you. The story I need to write is her's.
Jeezabelle's.
She was little more than a child when I first saw her. Her blonde curls, tangled and dirty, nearly glowed in the moonlight. But it was her eyes that caught my attention. The pain was almost unbearable. Almost enough to rival my own. And so I followed her in the attempt to sate my curiosity. No one before her had caused me to feel. Not since my turnday.
It wasn't long before she heard rumors of a healer on the top of the mountain and she sought me out. Generations of old wives forgetting that I cannot heal. That I harm. But still she sought me.
"Healer!" she cried after days of searching, her body exhausted, bloodied, and bruised. "Healer! Help me."
Days she wandered and days I let her. At night while she slept, I crept towards her, craving sustenance, knowing I could take what I so desperately needed. But each time my hand neared her's a soft sigh would escape her lips and she would look so much like the child my wife had been.
Then one night, she found my cave. Whether she found it or I unknowingly herded her towards it, I don't know, but she found it nonetheless. I watched as she waited. She sat at the mouth of my cave and waited. Night fell and she waited. And day broke and still she waited. That night, I hid in the shadows and listened to her.
Softly, as if in prayer, she asked me to take her pain. Silent tears rolled down her plump cheeks mingling with the dirt and blood.
"I cannot help you, Jeezabelle."
I didn't remember saying it, but I said it all the same. She stood as her tears intensified.
"But you're the only one who can."
"I am not a healer. I have nothing to take your pain away."
She took a tentative step towards my hiding place.
"It is not my body that hurts me, but my mind."
I grew angry at her.
"Foolish child! Do not seek out Death. Do not make this your fate." I stepped out into the moonlight to her soft gasp. She reached for me then pulled back her hand. "I do not have the power to turn you."
I turned and started to walk further into the forest.
"I do not seek Death, but ignorance."
At her whispered defeat, I stopped. She was no longer crying but her pain, her memories, gripped her tighter.
"Think only of the memory you want to forget and take my hand."
And so started our relationship. Every few months she would come to me. She would give me life and I gave her freedom.
Then one day she came to me with the gilded gold of her hair hidden by brushed silver.
"Jeezabelle," I whispered fondly.
"I am dying, Memory Eater. Take this last sin from me. Let me die in peace."
I nodded and we sat down. She took a few labored breaths. Then she did something she never had before: She touched what was left of my face. At that briefest of caresses, memories flooded my brain and her guilt weighed heavily on my stomach.
I saw her as a young girl, Chosen to find me. Chosen to feed me, sustain me. Fatten me.
Her hand fell from my face. We had both fallen over to lay on the ground during the exchange. With her final breaths, she smiled at me and for once I saw no pain in her eyes.
"Thank you, my friend," she whispered into the inky darkness of the night. I placed her in my cave, the best burial I could give her, and I left.
So I travel the world, endlessly, trying to hide, to run, from my fate. I run from my curse. I run from my memories. I run from the one who would prey on me.
I run from Basil.


This is my entry to @Blackfireink's Memory Eating Zombie Writing Contest. For rules and details go to www.blackfireink.tumblr.com The contest ends at the end of September so get a move on!