Hey folk! Sorry for the delay. I’ve been basking in the glow from my recent flood of book sales. I’m kidding. I have been basking, but I’ve also been working on my next offering. Thank you so much everyone who’s taken the time to hit like and write reviews and to invest those few bucks to try out a newbie romance voice. I appreciate you, I read you, and I listen. So feel free to hit me up!
Any who, here’s another unedited snippet from my upcoming paranormal romance about a blue demon and a rocker girl named Cass. In this scene, Eyoen has gotten word that his host – the medium he needs to go to Earth to be with Cass – is ready. There’s a mad rush, and he finds out that his host isn’t in the best shape…
“Sire! Sire!” Rierdane appeared in his bathing chamber visibly shaken and out of breath from a mad sprint/shimmer across almost the entire length of the palace. “It’s time.”
“Gods,” Eyoen breathed, surging to his feet in his sunken tub, streams of warm water streaming from his long, muscular body. His host was at this moment dying. He wasn’t ready. He’d known it could happen at any time, had thought himself prepared, but he wasn’t. Something – could it be fear? – had his heart racing, but he stood bravely as his faithful servant came forward and quickly dried him.
Suddenly he laughed. “How appropriate, Rierdane. I go into this new body as naked as I came into my own.” Then he was gone, and Rierdane was left standing on wet marble tiles with only a bath sheet for company.
The servant handed the towel to another servant. “Gods protect us,” he said, and returned to the king’s side to talk strategy.
*****
Eyoen had been told what to expect, but it didn’t compare to reality. Not at all. It was faster, more frightening, as he shuttled like a ghostly freight train through time and space and slammed into a painful and restrictive space.
Gods, he hurt. Everything ached terribly, especially his head at the back of the neck. He tried to stretch, to relieve some of the tension he felt, but couldn’t seem to make his arms move. Nor could he open his eyes. His heart rate accelerated as panic threatened to overwhelm him, then, as a voice whispered somewhere in his mind, he calmed.
“Sire,” said Rierdane. “How fare you?”
I feel awful, he thought, growling, or at least he would have if he could. Is this normal?
“The body you’ve taken has been in an accident. The host did not survive, so the wounds were grave, and it will take some time for you to heal yourself.”
I need no time, he said and would have buzzed himself and his new battered body back to health, but Rierdane hissed in alarm, and he stilled.
“You cannot, sire. You are in a human hospital, and were you to suddenly spring up from the bed fully healed there would be too much attention. You must have patience.”
Eyoen grunted, and his servant laughed suddenly. What is so bloody funny?
“Oh, my sire, you will be so pleased when you find out whose body you’re in.”
Before he could demand to know who, Rierdane faded, and he was alone with his many aches and pains. Truthfully he already felt better. His spirit seemed to have resized to fit its new confines so that horrible cramped feeling was gone. He estimated that his host was perhaps four to five inches shorter than he was, which meant he’d been a tall human in life. Big too, though this man’s muscles were naturally not the same size and breadth of his own. Nor was he as powerful, but Eyoen knew his own strength would return as his new body healed.
Remembering what Rierdane had said he worried a bit, knowing his own healing ability was far superior to a human’s. Even without his deliberate effort, his spirit would heal his body quickly. The process had already begun. He just hoped it wouldn’t happen so fast that he drew attention to himself.
Things were starting to take shape for him now that he was calm. Instinct told him to keep his eyes closed, but he easily discerned that the room was large. He lay in a bed with bars on either side of his body. It was a hospital bed. He’d seen pictures of it on The Box. The metal bars were to keep his wounded body from rolling onto the floor.
He could hear the hum of machinery, and knew some of it was attached to him. He could feel the pinch of a needle and the drag of fluid as something dripped into his veins. How primitive their medicine was. Effective in some cases, but primitive.
His ears pricked as there was a commotion in the hall. His new nostrils flared slightly, and compelled, he inhaled as deeply as he could though it pained him mightily to do so. But that scent! The female, she was so luscious his senses swam inside his thick, painful head. He knew he’d never smelled this woman before. How could he? He’d never been to earth, had never beheld an earth woman outside of watching them on The Box. But this female in particular, somehow he knew her, and she was coming into his room, two smaller females and a large male on her heels.
Cass threw the door open so hard it bounced against the wall. It would have hit her had she not already been across the room and at his side.
“My God,” she breathed. “He looks like he’s dead.” …
I hope to have this book up before the end of the month. I’m so excited to see how you guys respond to my first foray into the paranormal. I love the genre; I worship people like Nalini Singh and Kresley Cole and Sherrilyn Kenyon and so many others who create other worlds yet seem to bring them into the real one so effectively. We’ll see how I do!
Peace,
Sherrod