Watch this space!  Coming up on August 7th will be the first of the entries for the #7VIRTUES Blog challenge.  If you'd like to enter the challenge yourself, please visit:

http://ladyantimony.blogspot.com/2011/07/repentance.html

Author Interview

Check out my interview on Morgen Bailey's blog here:

Blog interview no.52 with urban fantasy and paranormal romance author Rebecca Little

Seven Deadly Sins Blog Challenge

I signed up for the Seven Deadly Sins blog challenge at Antimony's blog: http://thoughtsmusingsandbrokenpromises.blogspot.com/  The challenge in a nutshell is seven days, seven deadly sins, seven flash fictions of 100 words or less.

Since my week is going to be a little crazy I'm going to go ahead and post my entries here in one big post.  You can read them all now or read them one a day - - up to you ;D

These are inspired by the Blood Thief world, but not from Blood Thief directly. Enjoy!

LUST

“I’m going to hell anyway, it would be a favor,” he argued with the vampire as his eyes roamed over her, drinking in her preternatural beauty.

“What have you done to imperil your soul?” she licked her lips.

“What haven’t I done?” he asked, self-loathing in his voice.

“An example,” she demanded, examining her perfectly manicured-nails.

“Lust is one of the 7 deadlies, right?”

“Yes.”  A knowing smile curled her lips, revealing white teeth and wicked fangs.  His heartbeat had already stated his desire, but it was still nice to hear. 

Unrepentant prey marched towards its predator. “I’m already damned.”

ENVY

It wasn’t fair.  She watched the bitch walk away with what should have been hers.  Nobody should be that damned self-confident, that smug.  Social custom was that a vampire visiting the territory of another should come bearing gifts.  That bitch had the nerve to bring that tantalizing human male with her, offer nothing, and leave with him in tow.   So what if she didn’t know local custom?  It just wasn’t fair.  The male had smelled so good, looked so tasty.  Her teeth positively itched for him now.  She’d have him before they left the island.  He should’ve been hers already.

SLOTH

The weeds in his yard were a foot high.  Dishes were piled up in the kitchen sink.  Judging by the smell his trash should’ve been taken out days ago. He’d already called in sick.  It was sort of true.  He was in bed and sick to his soul. Why?  Why did she have to be a vampire?  She was the most intriguing woman he’d met in years, if ever.  Dammit.  A blasted vampire.   He sunk further down into the pillows.  He didn’t ever want to leave his bed again.  Better to sleep his life away than face what lay ahead.

PRIDE

She rubbed the brass rail with a soft cloth, a smile lingering on her lips.  Glass bottles full of various spirits sat waiting for thirsty customer on the shelves behind her.  The polished wood of the bar reflected the myriad neon signs hung on the walls.  This was all hers.  She wished that her no-good ex would dare to show up here.  Wished he could see how much she didn’t need him.  Wished he’d have a run in with the vampire that had become her benefactor.  She sauntered toward the front, flicking on the open sign and unlocking the door.

GLUTTONY

He dropped the motionless body, its heart silent, and wiped at his bloodied lips. Normally he drank from two a night at most, never draining them.  Tonight he’d had seven and killed them all.  He wasn’t even bothering to dispose of the bodies. Worthless pieces of trash, that’s what they were. He’d read their minds, seen the disgusting thoughts there.

Thinking about his dead lover, he decided his gut felt nearly as heavy as his heart. He slid into the shadows moving toward his next mapped out target, thoughtfully provided to him by the sex offenders database he’d found online.

GREED

His new bloodline was going to be magnificent.  He put the vessel containing countless vampiric essences into the safe with the others he’d accumulated, closed the door and spun the dial.  He had enough now, combined with his rare blood, that the bloodline he’d create would be unparalleled.  He would be a god among vampires.  Legendary.  Unrivaled.  There was only one more vial to steal and he would be ready. Pleasure washed over him at the thought.  The anticipation of drinking the blood of ages made the fine pale hairs on his arms stand as his goosebumps dotted his flesh.

 

WRATH

Bloody bastard.  That low-down, conniving, murderous, conceited jackass.  I slid forward a couple of inches on the gritty concrete, groaning at the pain flaring from the gunshot-shattered bone in my hip.  I’d kill him if it was the last thing I did.  The mouth-watering smell of blood pervaded the air, but the aching trumped the hunger and it only served to anger me further.  He’d set this up knowing I’d have to turn on my unconscious human companion in order to gain the strength to free myself before dawn.  He wanted me to sink to his level.  He was twice-dead.

Birthday Blowout First Page Contest with Victoria Marini

Here is my entry for the Birthday Blowout First Page Contest with Victoria Marini.  Happy Birthday, Shelley.  Thank you for giving us all a gift for your birthday :D

Email address: rebeccatlittle@aol.com

Follow both blog and on Twitter

Re-tweeted this to spread the word: http://twitter.com/#!/Shelley_Watters/status/84299787964395522

Title: Blood Thief
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Word Count: 65K

First page (250 words):

(With re-write)

"It's Celeste, anybody home?" I called out cheerily, but received no answer as I headed to Catherine’s brightly-lit kitchen. I've seen enough death. I should have recognized what I was seeing, but I stood there frozen looking at Catherine. She was sprawled on the floor, her head severed. A dark pool of blood was spreading out beneath her, the red a stark contrast against the cool white tile. I stared a bit before my brain made sense of what I was viewing.

Sinking to my knees, I sobbed. Losing those you love is part of being a vampire, but it always hurts. Wiping red tears, I got to my feet. My friend was gone.  She’d given all to protect the reliquary vital to my bloodline.  I would see it safe. I sped silently through her darkened living room, fearing the worst. Holding my breath, I ripped open the bottom panel of the Grandfather clock. A relieved exhalation escaped me as my hand found the heart-shaped enameled glass vessel that held the comingled essences of my bloodline. This was the safety and source of our vampiric abilities.

Stepping outside into the dark pre-dawn hours, I opened my phone to check the time, squinting at the bright screen. Snapping it shut, I realized my mistake as faint footsteps followed me. I'd taken the reliquary from its hiding place and whoever had killed Catherine was now somewhere behind me, waiting on the chance to take it. I had played right into their hands.

(Before re-write)

"It's Celeste, anybody home?" I called out, but received no answer as I headed to Catherine’s brightly-lit kitchen. I've seen enough death that I should have recognized what I was seeing, but I stood there frozen as I looked at Catherine. She was sprawled on the floor, her head severed. A dark pool of blood was spreading out beneath her, the red a stark contrast against the cool white tile. I stared for a bit before my brain registered what I was viewing. When it did, I knew what I must do.

Catherine was the Keeper. She guarded the reliquary vital to our bloodline. Now, temporarily, that task would fall to me as few members knew where it was secreted away. I moved silently through her darkened living room. Barely daring to breathe, I opened the panel at the bottom of the Grandfather clock. A relieved exhalation escaped me as I lifted the reliquary from its hiding spot. My fingers caressed the heart-shaped enameled glass vessel that held the comingled essences of my bloodline. This was the safety and source of our vampiric abilities.
Stepping outside into the dark pre-dawn hours, I opened my phone to check the time, squinting at the bright screen. Snapping my phone shut, I realized my mistake as faint footsteps followed me. I'd taken the reliquary from its hiding place and whoever had killed the Keeper was now somewhere behind me, waiting on the chance to take it. I had played right into their hands.

What makes a vampire?

A pair of fangs does not a vampire make.  Neither does pale skin or an aversion to garlic or any other myriad physical traits that vampires have been ascribed with over the years.  I’ve read far too many vampire tales where the bloodsucker in question relied on the physical to convey “otherness.”  I mean really, how much are you going to stand out if you flipping sparkle in daylight or burst into flame at the touch of the sun’s rays?  While having distinguishing physical characteristics that make your vampires different from their human counterparts is all well and good, there has to be more.

Do my vampires have fangs?  You bet.  And they’re self-conscious about them around humans.  Do they have pale skin.  Yep.  They’re creatures of the night.  Is that what makes them vampires?  Not a chance.  It is their life experience and their actions that define them.  Otherwise they are no different from the humans that visit nightclubs decked out in dental-grade fangs and bad hair dye jobs.

Imagine what it would be like to live 300+ years.  Think of the history you’d have to have seen in that time, the people you would have known, loved and lost.  That sense of timelessness makes a vampire.  Having to live with humans as your source of sustenance, preying on someone that is what you once were, that makes a vampire.  Dealing with the secrets, guilt (or lack thereof) and, yes, hunger are what make vampires  interesting, appealing and even terrifying.  Not the fangs - though they do make for a wicked smile.

The Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award

Reggie Ridgway nominated me for Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award

http://characterswellmet.blogspot.com/

Thanks, Reggie!

The rules are simple:
1) Thank and link to the person that nominated you.
2) Share 7 random facts about yourself.
3) Pass the award to 3 of your blogging buddies.

4) Notify the recipients

Here are my 7 random facts:

1. I am a writer, but also a mom, a runner and a pretty decent cook.

2. I love to fish.
3. I am married.

4. I adore sushi, coffee and Pernod (just not all together!)

5. I am an amateur nail artist.
6. I have a large collection of high heels.

7. I like shiny things.

I am nominating the following three blogs for the award.

http://anniesisk.com/

http://rosannedingli.blogspot.com/

http://loreleismuse-lorelei.blogspot.com/

 

 

 

Thanks for all the wonderful input and kind words! Here's the slimmed down (exactly 250 words!) entry for those of you following along:

Title: Blood Thief
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy
Word Count: 65K (but prone to increase as I continue to tinker with the finished product)

     "It's Celeste, anybody home?" I called out, but received no answer as I headed to Catherine’s brightly-lit kitchen. I've seen enough death that I should have recognized what I was seeing, but I stood there frozen as I looked at Catherine. She was sprawled on the floor, her head severed. A dark pool of blood was spreading out beneath her, the red a stark contrast against the cool white tile. I stared for a bit before my brain registered what I was viewing. When it did, I knew what I must do.

     Catherine was the Keeper. She guarded the reliquary vital to our bloodline. Now, temporarily, that task would fall to me as few members knew where it was secreted away. I moved silently through her darkened living room. Barely daring to breathe, I opened the panel at the bottom of the Grandfather clock. A relieved exhalation escaped me as I lifted the reliquary from its hiding spot. My fingers caressed the heart-shaped enameled glass vessel that held the comingled essences of my bloodline. This was the safety and source of our vampiric abilities.

     Stepping outside into the dark pre-dawn hours, I opened my phone to check the time, squinting at the bright screen. Snapping my phone shut, I realized my mistake as faint footsteps followed me. I'd taken the reliquary from its hiding place and whoever had killed the Keeper was now somewhere behind me, waiting on the chance to take it. I had played right into their hands.

----------------------------------------------------

As most of you may already know, Shelley Watters is holding a contest on her blog "Is It Hot In Here Or Is It This Book?"  The rules say that today, May 28, we should post the first 250 words of our mss for critique, so here are the first 250 words of Blood Thief. Ok, so it's more...but the first 250 are in BOLD.  The reason I posted more is because I don't feel that the first 250 adequately gives you a sense of what is going on.  Perhaps the hook could be set earlier and I may edit for the contest's sake before the 31st.  We'll see.  Please leave feedback if you are so inclined, but most of all ENJOY :D

Similarities

Blood Concept perfumes

Received my compatibility test yesterday!  Am liking Type O the best (and am a Type O myself).  If you haven't heard of Blood Concept yet, the Italian company has designed four separate scents based on the ABABO blood groupings.  Each scent is distinctly different and has a metallic base note (they don't smell like blood as some places are reporting erroneously -- they smell really good!). The scents are unisex, though I think O is more feminine.  A reminds me of Italian food a bit with its hints of basil, tomato and anise.  AB and B are both a little more masculine. Check 'em out at www.bloodconcept.com

It Gets In Your Blood

I have heard a lot of authors referring to their own works as their children.  Mine is more surreptitious.  It has worked its way into my consciousness with the cunning of a kleptoparasite (go on, Google kleptoparasitism, I’ll wait).

Menial tasks that should have zero to do with my book bring the characters to mind.  I find myself thinking things like, “Oh, Celeste would like that.”  Places I’ve never given much consideration before suddenly look like really good hiding spots for a vampire hunting a meal.  So I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that when an old Triumph motorcycle with a rider dressed all in black whipped past me on the interstate the other day that my first thought was, “Hey look, it’s Joss!” 

Writing is like that for me, it flavors everything I do with the spice of the particular piece I’m working on.  My experience in the theatre was similar.  Every role, every play worked its way into the mundane moments of my life.  I guess you could call me a method writer? 

I’ve found that submersing myself into the topic helps me.  It brings points up that I would not have otherwise considered.  I am almost glad I waited until this point in my life to push forward with this book because without the internet a great deal of the vampire culture would have slipped my grasp.  As it is I have my paper.li news, Vampaper, bringing me all the daily scoop on the subject of vampires, several vampiphilic (my word, don’t bother looking it up) groups I take part in and plenty of wonderful vampire related links to peruse.  Granted, I’m not young enough to fit in with the crowd in person (not a word), but online it really doesn’t matter.  I’ve discovered several musical artist/groups that I’d never have found without an interest in the subject too.

Recently a Twitter pal teased me about being a vampire.  While I’m quite grounded in reality, I found it rather complimentary.  The topic of my book has gotten into my blood enough, if you’ll pardon the pun, that it is a part of me.  And that’s pretty cool.

Bonus stuff:  Two massively cool things I’ve found recently:  Bloodconcept.com – a new perfume I can’t wait to try despite my love of D&G’s The One and StumbleUpon (stumbleupon.com) a very intuitive way to discover awesome new sites based on what you like.  In fact, if you liked this post, please take a moment to click the SU button over on the right side of this page!

Absolutely hilarious vampire video

Portsmouth NHS has this wonderfully funny vampire ad to promote dental health...had to share :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ByBGMIkNCI&feature=player_embedded

Twitter pitch for Blood Thief

Title: Blood Thief

Genre: Paranormal/urban fantasy

In a deadly race for a stolen reliquary, vampire Celeste must choose to trust her own kind or the human thief trying to steal her heart.

In a deadly race for her bloodline’s stolen reliquary, vampire Celeste St. Ange must choose her mate or the human thief stealing her heart.

Check out the Epic Follower Blogfest contest (which this pitch is for)  at:

http://shelleywatters.blogspot.com/2011/03/epic-follower-blogfestcontest.html#comment-form

Microfiction - Succinctly Yours

(Succinctly Yours – A Microfiction Meme)

Closing his eyes, he let his mind create a picture of comfort; his way of getting through these catered affairs and his too snug shoes.



Last day to enter!

Last day to enter @CA_Marshall 's spring FREE EDIT CONTEST at http://www.editorcassandra.com/

Wow. Just wow.

Determination.  Persistence.  In spades. Wow.  If you've having a poor me day, watch this.  Simply wow.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbhW_K3NvmQ&feature=player_embedded

Better link

Here's a better link to the FREE EDIT CONTEST: http://www.editorcassandra.com/2011/03/test-post.html

Writers! Look! A link to a FREE EDIT CONTEST!

Be sure to enter @CA_Marshall 's spring FREE EDIT CONTEST! http://bit.ly/efsEAq

Probably Not Normal

While I'm still coughing sporadically, I think yesterday's adventure points out a lot more than "smoke inhalation is bad for you."

Yesterday our neighbors decided that they wanted to get rid of some pampas grass (big bushy grass like stuff with tall feathery stalks growing out of it).  Another neighbor told them the best way to do this was to burn it.  Going on this bad advice, the neighbor squirted a little lighter fluid near the base and tossed a match at it.  Pampas grass grows very dense and soon the fire was inside the bush and despite his best attempts with the hose, it wasn't going out.

I spotted smoke from my kitchen window about this time and went to find out what was up. He was battling it with a hose, but couldn't turn the water off it long enough to try anything else.  Seeing the dilemma he'd created, I ran back to the house and grabbed the hubs.  My initial thought was to snatch up a shovel to expose the center of the bush, but Chris had loaned it out to his brother.  Next best thing, I went for a sword.  I picked my old Javanese mandau rather than the katana simply because it was easier to reach (katana was under lock and key).  Chris grabbed a machete and a Kuhkuri (Gurka).  We went over and hacked away the parts of the bush not burning, allowing the neighbor (who had neither a shovel or any type of item to do the work, save a handheld pair of clippers) to douse the fire. 

Once it was over and done with, I had to reflect on what the neighbor must have thought about seeing us come running with such a selection of edged weapons.  I'm still laughing.

Microfiction Monday

Dropping the communion wafer into the shoe, the fairy naively attempted to save its sole.

Microfiction Monday

Microfiction Monday

At the corner, the clock kept its quiet rhythm despite the cacophonic traffic whirring past and the silent heartbreak of the girl in flat 2B.