Going For It-Excerpt Contains Graphic Language and Sexual Situations

When you're imaging a Maximus style gladiator that looks like Daniel Craig set in a world gone a lot Mad Max you can be driven to distraction. I mean, who wouldn't be? Both Russell Crowe and Daniel have that gravitas which lends itself for you to believe they would have been bad asses back in the day. And when I'm reading there has to be a bad ass. A tortured bad ass. One that is seeking salvation or redemption. I love those kinds of heroes and heroines. 

I grew up in a rocky household and life so the idea of being taken away from that is appealing too. To be protected when it seems like the gods are always conspiring to bring you down. And for it to be a man that looks like Russell or Daniel? Even better. 

So for Nano when the idea hit it was as Oliver Reed said, rising up like a storm. So here you go, Chapter Two of GLADIATOR-Warning Contains graphic language and sexual situations.

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Chapter Two

     He watched her sleep but could not reconcile his senses to what had happened. His mind told him what he’d seen was impossible. Glowing hands, her eyes burning like fire, her hair billowing out as if blown by a fierce breeze and her body hovering in mid-air. Impossible his mind told him. Yet as she slept he knew what he’d seen.

     The last ten years hadn’t been good for him. Frankly they hadn’t been good for anyone. And as the night stretched on he found himself sleepless as he normally was after a match in the Metal Coliseum. He had been bathed or cleansed of the blood of his opponent that covered him. Killing wasn’t something that had come naturally. The only way it might feel right was if he were given the opportunity to murder the men responsible for the destruction of his family.

     He walked over to where he’d lain Alexandra and covered her with a blanket. He touched her face, she seemed so vulnerable laying there, it took him out of his ingrained death wish for a moment. The sound of footsteps and metal clanging against metal brought him to his feet. It was Veronica again.

     “I see you’ve met her. Tell me,” she said walking up to him, “have you gained her trust?” She ran her finger up his chest and to his chin.

     “I don’t know. You’d have to ask her.”

     “She seems to be sleeping well enough. Did you seduce her?” Veronica asked stiffly.

     “I’m a gladiator. I don’t have to seduce anyone.”

     “Oh you don’t?” Veronica said, her lip curling upwards. “Then however did you manage to bed me?”

     “My queen you were the easiest of all.”

     She went to strike him, but he caught her by the wrist and grabbed her by the throat. “Veronica we know each other well enough to know this has nothing to do with love don’t we.”

     She groaned. “If only you weren’t so below my station. We would could rule the world.”

     He threw her to the bed and said, “You and your kind disgust me.”

     “Darling, lust and power have nothing to do with love and everything to do with the spoils of war. No stop pouting and come join me.”

     “Tell me who ordered my wife’s death and my children’s enslavement.”

     Veronica stuck out her bottom lip. “Are we really going to play that game tonight? I was hoping after a kill you would be amped up for me.”

     “Go fuck yourself tonight Veronica. I’m sure there are plenty of other gladiators who would love the opportunity to sleep with you.”

     Veronica’s eyes went dark green and she sat straight up. “You will not speak to me in that tone.”

     “I will speak to you any way I like. You and your father may have enslaved me for your enjoyment but I will not dance like the mindless monkey you think I am.”

     “Is this about the traitor I put in your cell?”

     “No. This is about my life and how your family ended it.”

     Veronica slid up against him. “Oh sweetie, you have no idea how bad your life could really be.”

     He stiffened and glared at her.

     “Just ask her.”

     The door to his cell opened and two guards came in went to grab Alexandra. She began to chant and weep and her eyes glowed a defiant amber. Then men froze.

     “She’s harmless. Bag her head and put her in the Inquisition Room.”

     He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. His every instinct told him if he let her go to that room she wouldn’t survive. The chanting got louder and Veronica went white and she began to gasp for air.

     Tristan charged the guards and grabbed Alexandra and, ripping the bag off her head. Her eyes were burning bright. He looked at Veronica. “Release her Veronica.” The color came back to Veronica’s face while he held the guards back with his sword.

“Release her!”

     Veronica laughed as the light dimmed in the Healer’s eyes and she went limp in his arms. He carried her back to the corner and covered her with a blanket.

     “Funny Tristan, I didn’t think you had in you.” Veronica said.

     “You didn’t think I had what?”

     “The ability to care anymore. For what it’s worth she’s to fight Lucilla tomorrow in the ring. And as you can see, she’s no gladiator.”

     Veronica came up to him. “I thought you of all the gladiators might spare me the trouble of martyring her but it seems you have a fatal flaw. You care about the weak.”

     “Let me be her second.”

     Veronica squealed in laughter. “Seriously? Two women die instead one. You’re more twisted than I thought.”

     “What happens if I die?”

     Veronica rose an eyebrow. “We’ll deal with that complication if it happens. But you’re the best of the best so I doubt that’s something I’ll have to worry about right now. Come with me guards. Have fun with her. Knowing you’re suffering she may martyr herself.” She kissed him. When he didn’t respond she sighed. “Don’t feel too guilty. You are serving a higher purpose in helping me.” It was everything in him to keep from vomiting.

“Goodnight little sister.”

     Alexandra’s eyes popped open and the amber color of hers burned bright. She said nothing but the defiance came through loud and clear. Veronica shivered and motioned for the guards to follow her.

     Tristan picked her up and laid her gently to the bed. “Rest up. You’re going to need it.”

     He went to lie down on the floor when he felt the gentle touch of her hand around his wrist. “Lay with me.”

     Her voice was so soft he almost missed it.

     “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said gazing at her tenderly.

     “If I’m going to die, I’d at least like to know the touch of the person willing to face death with me tomorrow.”

     “I’m covered with blood.”

     Her eyes were amber and filled with trepidation. “I’m afraid. I’ve lived my whole life that way. I feel the pain of everyone my family has ever betrayed. I hate my family. They want me to die. The only one who ever protected me was my mother. But when father murdered her I had no one. Not even Veronica. I know you don’t love me, and honestly, after what you endured I don’t see how you would love ever again--,”

     “Stop. I need for you to stop this I’m afraid bullshit if you want to have a chance to beat Lucilla.” He sat down on the bed next to her. “I don’t know what to make of you. Everything you are makes no logical sense to me. I’m not the best of the best because I’m the strongest or the fastest or even the most skilled. I’m the best of the best because I fight as if I don’t care whether I live or die.”

     “Don’t you?”

     “No. But now there’s you. And I don’t know what to make of anything.”

     “Why did you offer to be my second?”

     “Because the only thing I am sure of is I don’t want to see you die the way my family did.”

     “My sister will find a way to stack the odds against me. She always does.”

     “Veronica is about as soulless as they come.”

     Alexandra sat up and rested her hand to his chest and closed her eyes. Her hand began to glow her breathing became labored. His chest began to light up and she began to weep uncontrollably as she had when she’d crawled away from him. She opened her eyes and said, “She doesn’t blame you. None of them blame you.” Her weeping became gut wrenching sobs. “Oh God no.” Her shoulders shook and she trembled against him. “I promise. I promise to protect them all.”

     “Alex…”

     She was staring straight into his soul and not flinching. How much more of this could she take and not break? He gently pulled her hand away from his body and embraced her. “I have to serve my purpose…”

     “Veronica’s purpose is bullshit.”

     “I serve only the spirits. I have never served anyone or anything else.”

     “Then whose purpose were you filling?”

     “Your wife’s wish to absorb your pain as my own so that you can stop blaming yourself for her death.”

     “I’m afraid that’s impossible. I don’t feel anything anymore.”

     She looked him square in the eye and said, “That’s a lie. All those tears, those were yours. Your rage and grief it may be overwhelming to someone like me, but I’ve yet to find a soul I couldn’t mend.”

     “That’s arrogance. Sweet. But arrogant.”

     “Healing people, in mind, in body it’s who I am. It’s what I do.”

     “You’ve never failed, ever.”

     Her own pain seemed to dim her eyes. “Only once,” she said softly.

     “Who was it?”

     “My mother. But her grief, her pain was like yours. I tried so hard. It was how my father discovered my ‘gift’. I might have succeeded too if Veronica had helped me keep my mother safe. But we don’t share the same mother. And she never took to me. Just as my mother opened her eyes my father drove a dagger straight through her heart. I nearly died. I’ve been a prisoner ever since.”

     “How old were you?”

     “Five.”

     “How old are you now?”

     “Twenty-one. Well, twenty-one tomorrow.”

     “Happy Birthday.” She laughed through thru her tears. He wiped them away. “You’re too young to know about death and pain. You should be in college getting drunk and partying and getting into trouble.”

     “I’ll never be that girl. Veronica might have been. But not me. She’s the one who men love. She’s the one women in the mob want to look like. I was always a homebody. At mom’s feet. Helping her with something or another. I would be the girl everyone settled for after the beauty queen was taken.”

     “Don’t kid yourself, any man would be lucky to have you. Those eyes, that hair, that face your beautiful in your own right.”

     “Thanks.” For a second she just looked at him and said, “I hope if I live through this battle tomorrow I find someone to love me half as much as you loved your wife and children.”

     She was so young in that moment. So innocent even in the face of all the evil she had witnessed and been subjected to. And in the face of insurmountable odds she hoped she would live to find love. That was heady stuff to a jaded person such as himself.

     He touched her forehead and caressed her face down to her chin. “You remind me so much of her.”

     Alex remained still. Her eyes soft and yielding. He brushed her hair over her shoulder and ran his thumb over her lips and she took a sharp breath. He smiled tenderly at her.

     “I haven’t ever had a woman like you in here.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “An honest one. A kind one. A selfless one. And all you really want to be is loved. I’m surprised they haven’t stamped it of you.” He cradled her cheek and she leaned into his touch. “You deserve your first time to be something special with the man you love.”

     She pressed her lips to his palm and ran her tongue against his skin. He groaned.

     “I may die tomorrow. I want to be with the man willing to be my second and to know his touch. I may not be Veronica when it comes to seduction, but I know I was meant to heal you before I pass from this world to the next. I know you don’t love me, but I know you’ll take care of me.”

     “You are nothing like your sister,” he whispered to her ear, “and I am not going to let you die tomorrow. You are going to die happy and old with a family to speak of.”

     He was inches from her mouth. Struggling with himself. He never concerned himself with a woman’s virtue before, not even the first time with Hope. They had been young and headstrong and ready to take on the world. And hopelessly in love. This was different. She was no groupie. And she was right, they weren’t in love.

     “Tomorrow we go into battle together. Lucilla is one of the best female gladiators. My father favors her like Veronica favors you. They want me to die. I don’t want to die but I’m not afraid of it. The only thing I fear is not fulfilling the one thing I was sent here to do.”

     He held her face with his hand and fought his conscience no longer and kissed her. Parting her lips he slid his tongue into her mouth and tasted her. His head began to spin and ran his hand down her side and slid his hand beneath her and up her back. She broke off the kiss with a cry of pain and he stopped. He pulled her shirt off and rolled her to her stomach and found scars and healing wounds from a bullwhip. “Jesus…” he exhaled. “What have you endured all of these years?”

     “Fury, jealousy, punishment. Please don’t stop.”

     “I’ll kill them,” he said hoarsely. “How can anyone do this to a child, let alone their own daughter?”

     “I stopped asking that a long time ago.”

     He tossed the shirt to the ground and began to kiss her scars. And she began to weep. It tore at his heart to think she’d suffered this kind of treatment at the hands of her own family. She pressed close to him and it set his skin on fire. He turned her body to face him and kissed again, holding her tight and when he deepened the kiss she sighed into him he only craved her touch more. Her hands trailed up and down his back. He pulled off his loincloth and removed her skirt. With nothing between them he could feel their hearts pounding together. Being with her was intoxicating. He wanted her, needed her, and nothing else would do. He dropped hot trailing kisses at her neck and brought her leg over his hip, and suckled at her breast. She threw her head back and gasped in pleasure.

     Her fingers buried themselves into his hair and her fingernails dug into his back. Her touch was unlike being with any other woman before. There was something in her complete and utter trust and need that spoke to a place in a long shut down part of him. It whispered to his hardened heart and closed off soul and asked him to come to her. He rotated his hips and pressed against her clitoris. She cried out and he released her breast and slid his cock inside of her. Instead of stiffening and crying she was gazing up into his eyes and her amber ones were glowing like burning coals on a fire.

     He kissed as her pussy clung tight around his thick cock and urged him deeper inside of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and suddenly her whole body was bright and she sucked his tongue inside her mouth and she arched her body up and he thrust harder and harder until he thought he might hurt her. But as he filled her with long, hot, firm strokes she began to pant and say his name her eyes threatened to roll back but when he touched her face he saw his own hands start to glow and when she looked into his soul, her eyes burning out of control with desire for him he was overcome by the need for his release and thrust one last time and cried out his own guttural orgasm. She began to kiss him as they collapsed to the bed. He was still rock hard for her and as she rolled him to his back she braced her hands to his shoulders and rode him, her breast perfectly positioned so that when he began to caress and stroke them she bucked wildly tossing her head back his name falling from her lips. His world went white as he responded and came without warning. When she fell to him he squeezed her ass and kissed her tenderly. She rolled from him and laid her head to his chest and placed her hand at his stomach.

     He didn’t know what was going to happen when they were taken into the ring. But one thing was for certain, come what may, he was going to do his best to make sure they both came out alive.

Halfway There...

After all the coffee and all the writing I have come to what is known as a magical land of the 20,000's. I have come to the point where things are going to get a little bit rough for a little while. But so far I'm good. I know the wall is coming but let me tell you I'm having a great time and am happy for the first time in months. Now part of that is the bipolar disorder and part of it was all the rejection letters I got. But thanks to my best good friend Missy who partner with me on  BECAUSE OF YOU, a gangster/political romance featuring four leads. No not an erotica, just two lead couples.  I was able to break the twenty-thousand word block and get some well meaning words not meant to be taken the way I took them out of my head.

Co-writing is bitch. And our first project is super dark. The hero and heroine die, the children witness their father's death and one is almost killed while the villain has a sick fascination with the other. It's meant to be a trilogy where the children find true love and get vengeance in the end. Right project wrong company. There's problems with it I'm sure particularly violent unhappy ending, but I'll take another look at it then send it out again, it's the nature of the beast.

That being said I love the home of my first two stories and the people in it. My editors were fantastic, Tanja, Greta, Lea kisses to you all. And the supportive community within the house is just lovely. Karen Cote, a real sweetheart and one of the best people I know. 

I'm looking at the editors call for submissions and MuseItUp's home page and realize, quite sadly, that Gladiator probably isn't destined to be there. But Muse gave me my first publication credits and contracts. And for that I'll always be grateful. 

But now it seems that the #NaNo Gods are calling me to write. A quick shoutout to Muse It Up's booksigning at Zellers in Montreal yesterday and landing in Amazon's top 20!

Gladiator Continued...

Veronica had been gone long enough for him to satiate his hunger and to prepare for his shower when the woman was brought to him. There was a bag over her head and she was limp in the two guard’s arms as they dragged her down the corridor and finally dumped her into his cell.

     As she crumpled to the ground one of the guard’s looked at him strangely. Like he couldn’t believe what was to come next. The other guard handed him a knife and said, “If she’s the Healer, slit her throat. The Queen wants nothing left to chance.”

     Tristan tucked the knife in his boot as the guards walked away, one of them looking over his shoulder in that strange, sad way. A groan and then a gasp emanated from the hooded woman and he slowly knelt to the ground, and pulled the bag from her head.

     She’d already been badly beaten. No doubt the royal court had ordered her questioned. But she looked young. Her mid to late twenties at the very oldest. She began to cough and gag and gasp.

     He thought of his Hope and how she’d been mistreated and it hurt him. The realization Veronica had asked him to gain this girl’s trust only to be her executioner if she were the mythical ‘Healer’ was ghastly to him. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

     Suddenly her eyes popped open and staring straight into them he could see a roiling mix of fear, anger, and disorientation. She opened her mouth to scream and instinctively he clamped his hand down over it. If he had let her scream it would have alerted the guards that maybe he had discovered what they wanted him to, and that he had just murdered her. Unwanted attention while he decided just what it was that he wanted to do was something neither he nor the girl needed.

     Both her hands wrapped around his wrist and she fought for her release. He had to convince her he wasn’t going to harm her, at least not until he had a better idea of who she was beyond someone who posed a real or imagined risk to the queen and her despot father.

     “I’m not going to hurt you, but you have to stop fighting me, and I know this goes against everything in you right now you’re going to have to trust me.”

     Then just as suddenly as she had come to she closed her eyes and went very, very still. He lifted his hand from her mouth. She was pale and almost as fragile looking as the china that Veronica always served his victory meals on. It disturbed him as he remembered holding his wife one last time before the military had dragged him from her side. It had been agony.

     The young woman began to tremble as she struggled to roll over and crawl away into the corner of his cell. She was chanting in an archaic tongue and sobbing deep wrenching sobs as she went. She was in pain in a way few people might understand. Almost as if everything she’d ever known to be true and right in this world was a lie. And those that she loved most had turned out to be the ones who she could trust the least.

     As she made it to the darkened shadows of the cell where few people might notice her Tristan knew this girl as if they’d known one another all their lives. It was a weird sensation and he wasn’t sure what to do with it or where to put it.

     She curled up in a ball and looked up over her knees at him with such sorrow it was enough to make him ache in his chest. She fascinated him. For the last ten years he’d had no loyalties. Not to the crown, not even to himself. He’d lived life recklessly and as gladiator he lived the life of a rock star. And as the king of the rock star he’d been privy to the queen’s more nasty plots.

     And looking at this scared young woman with the long dark hair and amber colored eyes he didn’t know whether she was a Healer or not. But he knew she was scared and hurt and angry. And beautiful. Not in the way Veronica was. But pretty in the way a lot of girls were with a defiant spirit in the face of no hope at all. His wife Hope had been that way.

     Tristan poured a cup of wine and tore a piece of bread off the loaf he’d been indulging in and crept towards her. “Here,” he said kneeling down next to her and holding them out, “take these you look hungry and thirsty.”

     She eyes him suspiciously but reached for the wine and bread. If he had wanted to be cruel he could have asked for her name before she took them. But he didn’t want to cruel to this girl. She was different from the groupies who were paraded in and out of his cell on a daily basis. He was the answer to all the base and dark desires. In this girl’s case he was to be her mortal enemy.

     As she scarfed the bread and guzzled the wine Tristan asked, “What’s your name?”

     She gave him a puzzled look but said nothing. Her eyes darted around as she seemed to be trying to orientate herself to her surroundings. “My sister is a big fan. She comes to you often doesn’t she?”

     His guard would usually be up, instead he sat down next to the girl and said, “Lots of women come to me. I don’t really remember them.”

     “My sister is unforgettable. She’s beautiful, selfish, self serving, and deadly. I’m pretty sure she hand picked you to take care of me. Veronica leaves nothing to chance. She trust no one and thinks she can manipulate anybody if she just finds their weaknesses.”

     “God knows I have plenty of those.”

     “From what I can tell you really have one that might mean bad news for me.”

     “Only one?” He said allowing himself a smile.

     “Hmmm no wonder my sister likes you so much.”

     “Your sister only likes me for what I can do for her. Just like every other fan who comes in here for my services.”

     “Maybe it’s why I like you. It’s your eyes. They’re so blue and sad. Even when you smile.”

     “You like the fact I’m sad?”

     “No. I like the fact you’re human.”

     Her words hit him delicately and pushed him to remember the man he’d been so many years ago. He’d programmed himself over the last ten years not to feel anything. Murdering other men for the mob’s enjoyment and the sadistic pleasure of a despot out of control took a certain level of coldness. If this girl was telling the truth, where had she been hiding? How had she survived if indeed was the ‘Healer’ some were counting on to lead the world out of this darkness humanity had plunged itself into.

     “I’m Tristan Shane. Husband, father, gladiator.”

     She touched his hand with hers and closed her eyes and started chanting in an old archaic tongue again. Her hand began to glow. Her face twisted in pain and he pulled away and rose to his feet.

     She looked up at him with such empathy it was hard to look away. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. My father and sister are…I…just know your wife doesn’t blame you.”

     The pain and rage welling up in his chest was more than he could bare. He turned and walked away. “Of course she wouldn’t. Hope wasn’t one to blame anyone. She’s probably forgiven the soldiers too.”

     Her voice hardened. “No. She blames them. For hurting your children Beth and Logan. And for taking her from you. As for Veronica…”

     He turned on her like a rattlesnake. “Are you sure that’s not just a groupie’s fantasy?”

     When he turned around he saw the wounded girl on her feet. Levitating and her hair flowing, her amber eyes lit up and glowing. There was a fierceness there now that hadn’t been there before.

     His first instinct was to call for the guards. But really he had every weapon he needed in his cell. It took him a moment to realize his entire cell was being illuminated. “I am not a groupie. I am my sister’s greatest fear. My father’s worst enemy. And they chose you to kill me. My name is Alexandra. What they fear is far more complicated than anyone can understand. Except maybe you. But if you choose to kill me there is no one and nothing that will be able to stop you.”

     Then as if her very life source were being drained from her the light flickered out plunging them back into shadow and she dropped into a heap onto the ground. He ran to her and rolled her over and lifted her body up. Tristan knew at that very moment he wasn’t meant to kill Alexandra. And that to protect her might mean certain death. But she needed a champion, in exposing her true nature to him she had made herself vulnerable to him. He couldn’t kill her. He wouldn’t kill her. He refused to kill her. And for the first time in ten years his life had a purpose again. Protect the Healer. No matter what the cost.

A Taste Of Gladiator

I know I should wait for to show this excerpt until it is in its finished format but I thought it might be nice to share a taste of what I've been writing and what might be my first 50,000 word accomplished since Another Way To Die's first draft. I loved the version, let me just say, the final draft of that book is much shorter, but it is still a damn good draft. Be on the lookout for tomorrow's blog when I announce this week's winner of a free copy of No Ordinary Love. But remember, you have to leave a comment to be in the running to win. I have all the comments starting with last Saturday's. And by the way, congrats to all my fellow authors with new releases last Friday and those with new releases today. Enjoy today's taste of Gladiator.

Tristan Shane was covered in his opponents blood. And he was led back to his cell the adrenaline rush he often got from a successful battle for the crown’s entertainment was often rewarded with a visit from the queen of the States. Veronica was as devilish as she was beautiful and since life as a favored gladiator was something he’d come accustomed to he was looking forward to another reward. And like clockwork she arrived dressed in the finest of silks and jewelry with drink and food in tow.

     Life as a gladiator wasn’t something he’d planned on. He doubted anyone in the prison, man or woman had planned on being violently separated from their families and imprisoned against their will and made to fight for the mob that the United States had become in the wake of economic collapse and the inability to come together. United we stand, divided the States had fallen to the greedy and the wealthy few. He had been a blue collar truck driver struggling to keep food on the table and a roof over his wife and children’s heads.

     Kentucky had been one of the first states to fall victim to the inability to come together. And when the military came they had seen a strong man and weak woman. They had separated them. His children had been sent to labor camps. His wife had been raped and murdered in front of him. As a gladiator he only lived to fight. When Veronica came to him it was his only release. The queen, however, was not a kind hearted woman. She only lived to satiate her own wants and desires.

     As the cell door opened she dismissed the guards and pushed the plate of food toward him. “My darling warrior you must keep up your strength. You have a long night in front of you.”

     Tristan wasn’t one for the queen’s games. He knew the other gladiators she favored with her time did. Some of them fancied her lies. Like the one that if they just capitulated to her desires long enough they would attain theirs and their family’s freedom. Tristan knew, however, that was the biggest lie of all and simply didn’t care enough to play that particular game.

     “What is it you want Veronica?”

     She leaned in close and whispered breathily, “Why I only want you Tristan.”

     He snatched her up by her throat and pinned her against the wall and kissed her passionately, brutally, and without forgiveness. When he pulled away she was smiling with a darkness that made him angry. She was a power hungry mongrel who played on her husband’s weaknesses and jealousies. Tristan hated her. And he hated himself for fucking her. But this was his life. He let go of her and walked away.

     “Is my poor gladiator jealous? There’s really no need for that is there? You know you’re my favorite.”

     “What is it you want Veronica?”

     She came up behind him and removed his armor. He was covered in sweat and blood and he felt her shiver against his body. And as always there was a twinge of nausea that would proceed the raw, animal, aggression.

     She turned him around. And as he looked at her there was no doubting, she was beautiful. But she was as poisonous as the rattlesnake she was behind those crystal green eyes and flaming red hair. Her father had promised peace and a return to normalcy and democracy in the wake of economic and nuclear disaster and instead this was what had come of the world. And she was no doubt always whispering in her father’s ear to continue her life in this fashion. He hated her. He loathed her. And every time he had sex with her his loathing for himself deepened a little bit more.

     “My dear, sweet gladiator as much as I’d like to celebrate your victory with you tonight my husband wishes me to be in his bed tonight. But fear not I do have a consolation prize for you.”

     His skin began to crawl. Veronica had a twisted way of looking at what was a consolation prize and it was usually just a groupie who wanted to see what the queen was usually doing with the rock stars of the former United States of America. And he usually did the dog and pony show. But sometimes Veronica wanted something to prove his loyalty to her. That was more complicated.

     “What is it?” He asked stiffly.

     She smiled. His response had given her the mistaken impression that he cared.

     “The rebels have been restless. And it seems there is a young woman we have in our prison they want terribly. Well, as you can imagine they are fit to be tied. It is rumored she is the mythical Healer. The one meant to find her soulmate and they are to lead our nation out of the so called darkness it has plunged itself into.”

     “And what do you want me to do?”

     “Oh Tristan, why the need for defensiveness? I just want you to find out if she is the Healer and then report to me if she is.”

     “And then what?”

     “And then you let me handle it,” Veronica said sliding into the evil skin that was her natural state. “The rebels have no idea what it takes to run a country.”

     The image of his wife being raped and murdered flooded him and it was difficult not to throttle the queen right then and there.

     “So can I count on you to do this for me or do I need to find someone else who can?”

     He was no one’s hero. But she said young woman. And he couldn’t just allow his wife’s fate to be visited upon some unsuspecting girl. “I’ll do what I can.”

     Veronica tapped his cheek and whispered, “Good boy, Tristan,” she paused, “guard! She’ll be delivered before the night is over. I don’t know when I’ll be able to return but I expect that you’ll have had enough time to gain her trust by then.”

     Tristan’s stomach churned. A healer? In the beginning there had been whispers of it. But he had never believed in such a thing. It had been years since the crown had feared anything. And now this? He said nothing as the queen was escorted away. Left to think about the young woman he would be forced to turn over in the end.

Meet Tristan Shane of GLADIATOR

Whenever NaNoWriMo comes along there is always that first full on flush of love for your characters. Because I'm a pantster and feel my way through a story structure is not always my strong suit. But NaNo isn't about structure. You're structure can be crap and you can still have a great story. Because I believe in my heart of hearts story will always trump structure. Even if it's only because you can have no structure without a story to hang it on.

For me it's all about the characters. And can I fall in love with them. And I am in full love mode for Tristan Shane. GLADIATOR isn't my first stab at erotica my first one a short tale is available for $2.50, just click on the image of No Ordinary Love (cover art by the lovely Delilah Stephans) the GLADIATOR cover was done for NaNo for me by Elise VanCise. Thank you ladies.

But I am totally enthralled by Tristan kind of this meets this

Set in post apocalyptic future. Lots of sword fighting, gun fighting and hot and steamy lovemaking. Daniel Craig is my model du jour these days and I make no apologies for it but if you were to say, see this guy:

I think it perfectly okay because that was how I fell in love with the idea of a gladiator eleven years ago. Tasty treats either one. So, remember don't get to hung up on making your manuscript perfect that first go around. You like gun fights? Write one. Like action sequences and coarse language? Write that too. There's no one who's going to punish you. Like sex scenes those are nice page fillers. Want to push the envelope like the Girl With the Dragon Tattoo write it. But be prepared to fight tooth and nail for it. Getting it through the publisher's gates is just the beginning of that fight. But as a wonderful blog by Jim Butcher said, this ain't no free lunch. If you want a complete NaNo novel by the 30th of November it's not going to write itself.

Now stop reading this blog and get back to typing away on your manuscript.

No Ordinary Love Available Here!

On day two of NaNoWriMo I'm thinking wow I'm having a blast. My post apocalyptic gladiator erotica mash-up is uber fun to write and picturing Daniel Craig as a Maximus style gladiator has been crazy. What's even more awesome I figured out how to link it up on this page. All you have to do is click on the picture and it will take you to the BUY page. Need enticement to buy checkout the youtube trailer also in the sidebar.

If you love steamy sexy erotic sci fi fiction checkout NO ORDINARY LOVE!

The Adventure Begins...

I thought I'd pop in and say hello before I get to the serious fun of NaNoWriMo and GLADIATOR. Notice the mock-up cover and nifty banner at the bottom of my blog. Natch. Twitter won't take big files and well, it seems I can't figure out how to work photobucket so I'm a little fubared on that, but I really wanted everyone to see the beautimous work Elise VanCise did for me. She is also an author.

It is hard as I set on this little 30 day voyage not to see Russell Crowe's Maximus as my hero so my profile pic may change for the month. I try to see Daniel Craig as a Gladiator and if I weren't constantly hearing the score with dialogue from the movie I think it would be much easier. But as it stands I am I do and I've been in love with that kind of hero for a long time. Gladiator was epic and would not have been the movie it was without Russell's sturdy shoulders to set upon. So even as I struggle to see Daniel, it is Russell who rides to my Healer's rescue. And she to his.

So I've been tweeting and blogging and reading my email and trying to get back into the swing of things online given I burnt myself on several issues which, in the name of keeping my butt covered here in RL will say nothing further on. Suffice it to say, when I think about my childhood it is painful and when I see sisters who are close I suppose I envy them.

But I take comfort in the fact I have my imaginary friends ;) lol and my best friend and close friends to keep me sane. And of course the cups of coffee and action packed sex filled story to keep me entertained. Still looking for comments this week. Leave one with any of the blogs and win a copy of No Ordinary Love! Tell me about your NaNo and who inspires your hero or what was the straw that stirred the drink to bring your idea to its synergistic moment?

As NASCAR said this year-- Have At It Boys! (And Girls...)