Look Into My Crystal Ball

If someone could tell you your future, would you want to hear? Would you want to know who you were going to fall in love with? How many children you were going to have? How he was going to break your heart but then put it all back together again? When and how you’d die?

What if you didn’t have a choice? What if you saw the future? What if you could feel when you were on the right path? And knew when you were on a path were very bad things happened?

That’s Rowe's position in Covert Desires. She doesn’t really have much of a choice. She’s a Sub Type Six. She was made to see the future. When she was government property, she was hooked up to machines that would see and record the prophecies. Now that she’s a citizen, however, she has to find her own way. Sometimes it’s easy. She just lets life guide her down the paths that feel right to her. But other times she has to improvise. Like when she and Jack are captured during an undercover investigation.

Excerpt:

“See, if she was a prophet, you would’ve known you was talking to the boss earlier. And you most certainly would’ve seen this coming.” He nodded and the man behind Jack brought the butt of his weapon into the back of Jack’s head. He collapsed like a rag doll under the force of the hit and he didn’t move again.

Her heart stopped and her breath caught in her lungs as the world blurred around her. Her body no longer hurt and she couldn’t feel the tight grasp Thomas had on her hair. She was completely focused on Jack. When his chest rose with a breath, her heart began to beat again.

“You’re wrong. I am a prophet.”

Thomas laughed loudly. “And I’m the prime minister.” He stopped laughing and pulled her tightly to him. “You’re with Special Investigations. I know a rat when I see one. I’m not an idiot, bitch.”

But he was. He’d proven his folly in her past. Or in his future. She shook her head as she tried to straighten out the timeline. In the end it didn’t make any difference. Whichever it was, he failed. There was an escape here. Some path that got her and Jack out of here and led to Thomas’ downfall. She only had to find it. Now was the time to test her theory. She had to try to focus on that one path and forget the others.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The fuzzy image of a nail flashed through her mind. It poked out of the wall as nothing more than a glint of metal in an otherwise dark room. Such a small thing. It was so insignificant her captors probably didn’t even realize it was there. But that one tiny glimmer of metal would save them both. She just had to find the track that would put her next to it.

She opened her eyes and shoved against Thomas as she brought one of her heels down on his foot. She didn’t weigh much but she hoped the element of surprise would work in her favor. Since she’d done little to fight back up to this point, Thomas had no reason to anticipate it now.

He cursed as her heel made contact and then stumbled as she continued to push as hard as she could against him. Her hands were still trapped behind her back but her shoulder provided a large enough surface for her to have an impact. Soon she was free of his grasp. Spinning, she ran for the nail.

A sharp pain erupted at the base of her skull and stopped her from reaching it, however. Her knees gave out from under her and her cheek hit the cold concrete floor. The air rushed out of her lungs and for one second she forgot how to breathe.

***

So, would you want to know how your story was going to end before it even began? To see a glimmer of hope only to have it pulled away at the last second?

I don’t think I’d like it. But, as Rowe states, she’s a Sub Type Six. This is what she was created to do. And she’s the best at it.

Covert Desires Blurb:

Universal Defiance, Book Six


Rowe is a Sub Type Five—a prophet—so her future should be laid out in front of her, clear as the stars in the night sky. But since Type Fives can’t remember their visions once they wake, the only thing she’s certain of is her overwhelming attraction to her partner, Jack. And that the desire seems one-sided. Jack does everything he can to put space between them.




After working undercover together to bring down a militia group, she discovers she got that one wrong though. Some hot encounters reveal that Jack wants her as much as she wants him. But they’ll have to survive the final mission and discover the identity of its mastermind before she finds out what their future holds.




A Romantica® sci-fi erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

If you want to know more abou the story, you can find a different excerpt on the Ellora's Cave web site or download a sample on Amazon.

Covert Desires' Cover and Release Date

I'm so excited! Covert Desires has a cover and a release date! When I first started this series, the last book seemed so far off. I thought it'd be forever before I was talking about it. But the time really flew by in a blur of words and alien sub-plots. And now we're here. Covert Desires releases this Friday! June 20th. I just can't even believe it.

Rowe has been one of my favorite characters from day one. Even before I knew what role she played in the universe, I knew she had an important one. She's not the typical heroine I write. She doesn't burst into rooms, make her presence known, and start shouting out commands. But she shows her strength in other ways. She's a wonderful combination of innocence and experience. She's lived through the worst of what humankind can dish out yet is still an optimist at heart. She honestly believes everything will work out. Which can be difficult because, as a prophet, she's seen every future possible but she can't remember any of them.

I've always loved the dual nature of her personality and I think the cover artist did a fantastic job capturing it.

Jack, on the other hand, is a pretty straight forward kind of guy. He's an agent. His job is to catch the bad guys and protect the civilians. And he's never really felt right about Rowe signing on with his agency. She's too soft, too innocent, for the kind of work they have to do. So when she becomes his partner, he has a hard time thinking of her as his equal. But when she saves his life, he starts to see that her belief in humankind and her quiet faith in the universe as the strength that it is.

That's why I love that he's standing behind her, yet his attention is focused on her.

This cover really captures so much of the emotion and the relationship of the two characters. I hope you give them a shot and read their story this Friday. If you want to read an excerpt, Ellora's Cave has one on their site. You just have to click on the hour glass icon in the upper right hand corner of the 'coming soon' cover on their page and it's one of the options. And please keep coming back. There will be an official blurb very soon.

Ellora's Cave

Sink or Swim

A little over one year ago, I sent off a proposal. I’d never done such a thing. It was kind of exciting. Also a little scary. Okay, maybe a little more than a little scary. It was pretty terrifying. Why? Because it wasn’t just a proposal for one book. It was the proposal for five books. I figured if I had an editor’s attention, I might as well take advantage of it. Right?

I didn’t really know what to expect. But what I expected most—my biggest hope—was to get an email back saying the stories looked interesting. What I got back was an email saying she wanted them. All of them. Not only did she want them, she was giving me contracts for all five books. I just needed to come up with a series name. Universal Defiance was born.

I spent the next year writing, polishing, and editing what turned out to be six books. Yes, six. Funny enough, Extreme Circumstances wasn’t in the original proposal. But when I got into the heart of the series, I knew I was missing a story. And once I knew it was missing, I had no choice but to write it and deal with the time crunch the best I could.  And so write it, I did.

Two weeks ago I turned in the final book to my editor. And I find myself wondering, did I sink or swim with this whole experience?  There was no doubt I threw myself into the deep end with this particular project. Once the contracts were signed, I was legally obligated to get these books done and submitted. Which meant there were no outs.

I think I’m comfortable saying I didn’t sink. I got it done. And I’m inordinately proud of the story I told. I don’t think I compromised my vision in any way, shape or form. But by no means can this journey be equated to the graceful strokes of swimming. I am a swimmer. It’s my sport. And I know what I’ve done over the past year bears no resemblance to it. 

The bottom line is, writing is hard. And there are moments, when I look back, that I’m not overly proud of. Private moments—mind you. Moments of doubt, despair, and frustration. Moments where I swore I’d never write another word for as along as I drew breath. But, thankfully, those moments passed. And when they did, I clung to my work and my worlds with nothing more than raw determination.

No. I did not swim. But I think it might be fair to say I treaded water admirably. And sometimes that takes more skill than swimming.

Friday Is All About Foreplay

It’s Friday!!

And I’m over the moon happy about that. But, I have to say, Friday is not my favorite day of the week. Don’t get me wrong, I love Fridays. But not because it’s Friday. I actually love Fridays because the next day is Saturday. And Saturdays are my favorite.

Fridays are kind of like the foreplay of the week for me. They’re awesome because of the buildup. Fridays are all about the anticipation. Tomorrow I’ll get to sleep in. Okay, maybe I won’t be asleep until 10:00 am. But I can guarantee I’ll be in bed until then. I can usually talk my husband into making me a latte. And we’ll be able to have actual, honest to God, conversations without being interrupted every five seconds. Because we’ve trained our kids that Saturday mornings are sacrosanct.

I’m all for being a parent. Don’t get me wrong. Sunday-Friday I’m rushing around making sure the kitchen is stocked, the clothes are clean, and lunches are packed. Which tends to make my weeks crazy, chaotic, demanding, and exhausting. But as soon as my husband walks out the door for work on Friday, I know it’s practically Saturday. And that keeps me smiling for the rest of the day.

I know we all have different schedules and have attached different meaning to the days of the week, however. I even have a friend whose favorite day is Monday. Because that’s the day she gets her house back to herself and gets a little peace and quiet. So what about you? What’s your favorite day of the week and why? Are you a Monday or a Sunday lover? And do you enjoy the foreplay and anticipation of the day before or do you just want to get that day over and done with so you can get to the good stuff?

In the spirit of foreplay, I leave you with an excerpt form Hostile Intent: 

“Strip.”

Captain Renee Holt stared at the man sitting on the edge of the bed in the cheap space station motel and bit her tongue against the flippant remark that begged to be spoken. She was the one who gave the orders. Always.

But he didn’t know that. How could he? He didn’t even know her name. And she didn’t know his. Anonymity was exactly what she needed. It was the way her family name and officer’s rank demanded this encounter be.

The truth softened her desire to voice a witty comeback. This was what she wanted—what she’d gone searching for, she reminded herself patiently.

“I said strip,” he repeated calmly.

Except he was a little bossier than she liked, she corrected.

If it hadn’t been three months since her last shore leave and if she didn’t find shaved heads, taut bodies and bad-boy charm so damn attractive, she’d walk away right now. But it had and she did, so there was nothing that could drag her away from this room. Not even a bossy bedmate. Not until she’d gotten what she’d come for, at least.

She smiled at the evil little thought as she slowly undid the first button on her red silk blouse.

“That’s more like it,” he said with a wicked smile of his own.

He leaned back against the headboard and waited expectantly. He appeared more than comfortable calling the shots. Not that that should’ve surprised her. It’d been his quiet confidence that’d drawn her to him in the first place.

That and the network of scars that raced from his forehead to his chin on the left side of his face. God, she had a weakness for scars. Always had.

Scars built character.

Or maybe it was the surviving of them.

She’d never quite figured it out but the semantics really didn’t really matter much. He’d been tested and he’d passed. That was hot.

It was also something they had in common. He’d never know, but as the captain for a covert ops team, she’d earned countless scars herself. Hers, however, she wore on her soul. And that, no one ever got to see.

The second button slid through its hole, bringing the tops of her breasts into view. By the way his smile widened and changed to one of hunger, she guessed he liked what he saw.

There wasn’t any music playing in the room but the bass from a nearby party rippled through the air and she couldn’t help rolling her hips in time with it as she undid the third button to expose the first glimpse of black satin.

The matching bra and thong weren’t exactly military regulation but she always made a point of wearing sexy things when she wasn’t on duty. Femininity wasn’t encouraged in her profession so she relished moments like this, where she got to embrace her sexuality.

When she looked down she realized she was already at the fifth button. Just two to go. She turned her back to him playfully as she finished unbuttoning the shirt and then looked over her shoulder as she let the article of clothing slip from her body to land in a gentle billow on the floor around her feet.

She kept her back turned but continued to stare at him as she undid the single button on her black pencil skirt and then slowly slid the zipper down over her hip. The cool air of the room caressed her skin as she went and made her break out in goose bumps. Still, when she got to the black lace of her panties she paused to tease him with a glimpse before allowing the skirt to puddle on top of the discarded shirt.

The intensity in his gaze made her stomach knot with need and her nipples harden in anticipation. Yeah, this was going to be good. It’d damn well better be. 

Happy Friday, Everyone! Hope you have a most excellent weekend.

Chandra Ryan