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Every Character Has a Story by K D Grace (@kd_grace)
I’d like to talk about my wordiness – you know, the kind of thing that would allow someone to graduate from writing short stories, to novels, to trilogies to series. Move over Game of Thrones J Although I’ll be the first to say, I do love to talk, and I do love to spin a good, naughty yarn, I can’t completely take the credit for bridging that chasm between a novel and a trilogy and beyond. I remember when I first realized that Body Temperature and Rising actually had to be a trilogy.
I was terrified! I didn’t want to write a trilogy. I wanted to wrap everything up in a nice little 80,000 word package with a sexy cover and have it all done and dusted. But my characters, including my formidable villain, Deacon, weren’t having it. Deacon had no intention of letting Tara Stone and the Elemental Coven off the hook after only 80K! What kind of a wimpy villain can only be tough for one novel??? He was way too evil and mysterious and contradictory to be wrapped up in one book. But it wasn’t just Deacon’s refusal to get with the one-novel program that spurred me on to my first trilogy, shaking in my walking boots as I went. It was the fact that every single person in the Elemental Coven had a story to tell. I was only through with the first two chapters of Body Temperature and Rising before I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Anderson’s story would have to be told. And, of course, if Deacon is really holding a very long-term grudge on Tara Stone, the Elemental Coven’s formidable leader, then her story would have to be told in conjunction with his.
Within the context of telling the stories of Anderson and Tara, of course, Cassandra and Kennet would have to become major players, but what about Alice, and Fiori and Sky? What about Ferris, the mysterious man set to protect Cassandra by unknown forces? Ferris showed up out of the clear-blue in Riding the Ether, Anderson and Cassandra’s story.
Ferris had the wonderful ability to be totally unassuming to the point people would forget he was there. But Ferris had secrets, Ferris had magic of his own, Ferris was a formidable fighter and – who knew such an unpretentious man could be so damned good in bed???
It was when I finished the Lakeland Witches trilogy that I realized there were other stories to be told, that the coven had a rich history and each character had a story that needed and wanted to be shared. I chose Ferris’s story as a little experiment – a serial that would unfold on my blog at regular intervals, a serial that turned out to be nearly a novel-length novella. The final episode was just posted on Halloween on the last day of my Things that Go Hump in the Night Blog Party. Demon Interrupted, Ferris’s story was a total surprise to me. I really did start out without a clue why a man would deliberately choose not to remember any of his past, and I got way more than I bargained for. Hopefully readers will have too. I hope while you’re checking out the Lakeland Witches Trilogy, that you’ll also go on over to my blog and enjoy Ferris’s story. It’s free, it’s complete, and it’s scary, sexy.
I also hope that there’ll be more visits with the Lakeland Witches in the future. There are so many more stories there to be told, and I love to hang out with the witches and their friends at Elemental Cottage in the gorgeous English Lake District. I hope you’ll join me there.
Demon Interrupted Blurb:
What secrets does a man have when he chooses to live under a spell that magically erases his past? When that spell is broken Ferris Ryder must choose to remember all that he was, all that he has done and all that drove him to willingly forget. If he chooses not to remember, the consequences will be dire for himself and the Elemental Coven, who are now his family.
Is the mysterious Elaine, who both fears and desires Ferris, a ghost with a past all her own, or merely a figment of his fevered dreams as he struggles against time to remember the past he fears or destroy the very people for whom he chose to forget.
Links: http://kdgrace.co.uk/books/demon-interrupted-a-lakeland-witches-serial/
Demon Interrupted Excerpt:
In a room full of people Ferris could remain totally
unnoticed. It was almost as though he were invisible. He heard things that way,
saw things that others missed. Fiori suspected that was part of his magic.
However, at the moment, he was completely and totally the centre of her attention as his warm, wet tongue
teased its way down and around the puckered peaks and the rapid rise and fall
of her breasts. One splayed hand cupped and fondled her tight pubic curls while
the other worried open his fly. What he was doing to her body was also a part
of his magic and way more of a surprise, considering the man’s unassuming
nature, than his ability to blend in.
She writhed beneath him totally naked, just as she had been
when he entered her room, gently easing her out of a bad dream, back into the
Waking World, and into his arms. She didn’t know where he’d been before he came
to her. The man seldom slept -- and him not even a ghost. He might have
adjourned to the library after the rest of the house had entered the Dream
World, or perhaps he had been in Skye’s bed sharing pleasure with her and
Alice. He was generous with his affections. But then he’d hardly fit in at
Elemental Cottage if he were otherwise.
How he had known she was having the dream again? How had he
known about the dream at all? And yet he did, and she was glad that he came to
her. ‘Sh! sh. It’s only a dream, Fiori,’ he whispered. ‘Only a dream.’ He’d
brought her a glass of water from the bathroom and had returned with a soft
white towel. While she drank as though she had just traversed the desert, he
gently wiped the perspiration from her face and her shoulders. Then he took the
glass away and moved the soft terrycloth knap in slow lazy circles down her
back and her ribs as she slid into his arms, laying her head against his
shoulder.
‘Do you want me to stay with you?’ he asked.
She only nodded, tightening her arms around his neck.
His black shirt was open and untucked and his nipples
hardened as she slid her arms inside and up his back.
‘Do you want me to make love to you?’ He asked it as simply
as a parent would ask a child if she would like a bedtime story. He asked it because
he knew in a house where sex magic was practiced, healing came in the form of
passion, and she nodded again because she knew that too. His cock was already
hard, but then she had noticed that it often was. In those times when he
allowed attention to be drawn to himself, in those times when he made his
presence known he neither attempted to hide his erection nor did he attempt to
flaunt it. It was the ease and the comfort with which he wore his own
masculinity that made him seem like a much larger man than he really was. In
spite of his chameleon nature, he was not shy by any means, and his stamina and
his finesse made him a welcome edition to the beds of all of the Elemental
witches and their consorts.
Impatient for the feel of him freed, she shoved at his
trousers, the scrape of the zipper seeming unusually loud in the quiet room. He
ran his hand down to aid her as she worried his cock free. He was neither large
nor small. Even his cock was nothing unusual to draw attention to itself, and
yet there was no one at Elemental Cottage who didn’t relish the thought of
Ferris between their legs, of Ferris shifting and grinding as though his
unassuming penis had a secret magic all its own once properly sheathed in an
appreciative pussy or mouth or arsehole.
His breath caught with a grunt as she fisted the length of
him and she could almost feel the ripples of lust rising up the vertebrae of
his spine. For a second he wrapped his hand around hers and shifted his hips.
Then he pulled her fingers free, kissing each one of them, running his tongue
in ticklish strokes over the tips, making her hips rock against the mattress.
‘I’m going to taste you now. I can already smell how good you’ll be.’ With a
wriggle of his arse and a shove with his feet he shed his trousers as he
crawled down between her thighs, nudging her open with the smoothly shaven
wedge of his jaw, clearing the way with nose and lips, teeth and tongue. The
humidity of his breath blew across her clit, which rose up in anticipation.
‘There,’ he said, his fingers parting her as agilely and
exactingly as if he were a pianist and she were his instrument. For an age he
studied her, fingered her, arranged her as though there were only one way, the
best way to approach her dark, heavy folds, and he would not partake until he
knew exactly what would bring all of her focus, all of her energy, all of her
arousal to the very centre of his attention. ‘And now --’ his words were little
more than a rush of breath ‘--I’ll give you what you need.’ He took her with his
whole mouth, hunched over her like a lion at his prey, the muscles of his
shoulders bunched tight, dusted and gilded in moonlight. And she felt the bloom
of her arousal like a bud swelling, bursting, opening. Then the bloom became an
explosion rising up from someplace suspended above the base of her spine. He
held her hips, held her steady with strength his body belied as she bucked
against his mouth, as she convulsed, as the moon moved in and out amid the
undulation of slate clouds.
In the hazy vision of heat he seemed larger than himself,
much larger than himself as though his arousal, their arousal together had
released something broader of shoulder, deeper of chest, darker of memory and,
as the moon disappeared, the power of him rose like a shadow thick and
all-consuming and, somehow, other than himself. The hair on the back of her
neck rose. Gooseflesh prickled over her breasts, even as she rocked out her
orgasm against his mouth.
But before the tingle of uncertainty and the edge of fear
could take hold, the moon reappeared and unassuming Ferris gave her clit on
last hard tug with his lips and then rose over her, positioning himself, easing
her open with his knees and his hips.
‘I need you in me,’ she said, her voice nearly lost in her
struggle for oxygen.
‘A need which I share,’ came his urgent reply. It took no
more than the tucking of his hips and a single thrust and he was in deep. She
was slick and ready for him, gripping him as though she hadn’t just come, as
though she were desperate for him to take her. With arms much stronger than
they looked, he lifted her legs around his hips and positioned himself so that
with each thrust he raked her clit, and she could almost swear that in the
stark relief of moonlight and shadow his eyes were onyx black and yet bright,
so bright. Even in the glow of a nearly full moon, he rode her in the light of
an after image that made no sense, and she was reminded that not even Ferris
understood his own magic. The closer they both came to orgasm the larger and heavier
the after image grew. And the larger the after image, the harder they strained
for release. When orgasm broke over them, so did the shadow, consuming them for
the briefest of moments and then receding behind their own efforts to recover
themselves taking with it Fiori’s urge to speak of it, to question it.
About K D Grace/Grace Marshall
Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.
K D has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition are all available.
Find K D Here:
Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kdgraceauthor/
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Thanks SO much for having me and the witches over. It was truly enchanting to be here, Erzabet.
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