Showing posts with label m/m paranormal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label m/m paranormal. Show all posts

Sunday, February 24, 2019

When the ducks turn stubborn

February 24, 2019


For the official record, I am sick to death of rain. I live on the side of a mountain and yet my yard looks like a swamp. It's not difficult to figure out - all the water above drains through here on its way to the creeks below. The joke is on me. Come summer, I need to round up the cousins and add an extra swale in the back yard. Provided, of course, it dries up enough to get the John Deere in the back yard without it sinking up to the axles. 

You'd think all the rain would be conducive to productive writing. Again, and I repeat, the joke is on me. I've spent these few early days of 2019 managing the health care of husband and stepfather. That endeavor has left little time for my own pleasurable pursuits. I finally broke down and made arrangements to pay (out of pocket) for someone to transport my stepfather to all his doctor visits. I've missed far too much work to be comfortable about it. More importantly, the simple act of asking for help has already lifted some weight from my shoulders. 


The Grammarly project has been moving along. I took a sanity break this past week and did some "fluff" reading. I call it that because I'd read the books before - The Chanur series by C.J. Cherryh. It was a revisitation to old friends from the 1980s. I understand why the author stopped at five books, but I'd love to read how things worked thirty years later for all involved. 


I decided it was time to set aside my dislike of Facebook and start some promo there. I got a spam email from some company offering to "promote your book on over 100 Facebook groups." And then it actually listed the groups. Yep. I copied the list and set myself the task of checking out each one and joining if appropriate. Thanks for the tip and not sorry you won't get any money from me. 

I continue to enjoy messing around with Photoshop. Some samples of the promo cards I've made are posted here. 

We're almost to the end of February and I've not produced a Jan/Feb newsletter. It's like entries for the Between the Keys blog. What do I have to crow about if I've done...not much?? The behind the scenes work is pretty boring although fellow authors and informed readers will understand completely. Sometimes those damn ducks will not form a neat row!


 KC Kendricks

Life through the eyes of Greenbrier Smokey Deuce: deucesday.blogspot.com


Sunday, December 9, 2018

Internet censorship is a growing concern

December 9, 2018

Why should my content on the Internet be censored due to its adult nature?

No, I'm not trying to be funny.

An author friend seems to be scandalized that some of my books lack a strong "over 18" warning. Why would that be a problem? I'm not responsible for someone else's kids being on a computer/phone unsupervised. If you're a parent, block your kid's access to the Internet. I'm serious.

Another author just had her book cover censored by Facebook for not meeting their "standards." I didn't know Facebook had any "standards." I know Twitter doesn't. Maybe that's why I enjoy Twitter. Anything goes, for the most part. I enjoy the freedom of expression. If someone is too radical for too long, I can mute them.

I just read where Tumblr is now blocking adult content. I certainly understand that Yahoo, which owns Tumblr, is within its rights to do so. What I don't like is someone else deciding what is "adult" and what is not. Again - parents should police their children, not me. 

If I come across a site that has content beyond what I want to have burned into my corneas, I simply click away. It's not difficult. It's like changing the channel on the television. Just click and leave.

I remember back in the day, way back in 1984/85, when Tipper Gore decided some music lyrics were too explicit to be in a song. For you younger folks, I'm not joking. Who's Tipper Gore? Ex-wife of Vice-President Al Gore, under Bill Clinton. It was a personal turning point for me, politically speaking. I knew at that moment how destructive censorship is to free speech and creative, artistic freedom of expression.  Now, as a more mature woman, I understand how censorship is a weapon of those with a Socialist bent. 

I have no illusions that my single voice will make much of a difference. I have neither money or beauty, power or position. I see these things unfolding and I know it's not the "good thing" we're told it is. 

The Internet is "of itself" an adult medium. It's not a babysitter. It's not a cure for parents too lazy to see to their children. 

And what of those who use the Internet to express themselves creatively? 

Conform or be cast out. 

We need to seriously consider where censorship is headed. 

KC Kendricks  









Wednesday, December 5, 2018

The Back Stairs for this week's Midweek Tease


December 5, 2018
**Updated 4/2/21 - the MidWeek Tease blog hop has been discontinued.**

Welcome to this week's MidWeek Tease! Be sure to check out all the participating blogs by using the linky list located at midweektease.blogspot.com. 


I've been walking a jagged path lately but that's life (or so I tell myself). Today seemed like the day to wave at everyone and let y'all know I'm still lurking about, writing when I can and grousing about it when I can't. Just ask the spousal unit. He'll say I don't "grouse" about not having the opportunity to write, I flat out bitch about it. He should know. He's the individual I bitch at because he's the one sucking away my time. Please keep him in your prayers that his surgery on December 14 is completely successful. But I digress...

Today for the MidWeek Tease I have an excerpt from The Back Stairs that has never been shared anywhere. Fallon has been suspicious of Sundown even as they've become lovers. In this moment he realizes just how different Sundown really is. 

Enjoy! 
_*_*_*_


First thing in the morning, I planned to have a long talk with my partner, then with the captain. I needed a break. Maybe I could wrangle a week off to rest and regroup, and get my head screwed back on. I was going to fuck up this investigation because I was too tired to focus. But for right now, I had to look alive and keep Juny from seeing something was wrong. I took a deep breath. A strong hand squeezed my shoulder.

“Do you need help getting up?”

I raised my head at the familiar voice, and the hand swam into focus in front of my face. I accepted his offer and he hauled me to my feet. Sundown was strong for such a slender man.

“What the hell are you doing here, Sundown? I told you to stay put.” I searched his face for some clue of why he’d followed me. The urgency in him was palpable as he gripped my wrist.

“I can help, but you must trust me.”

“How can you help? You weren’t here. You couldn’t have witnessed anything.” My heart dropped to my feet. “Do you know this victim, too?”

“I’ve seen him around. He was a runaway, like Michael, only this boy was troubled. I think he did not care for his life and probably welcomed death.”

My stomach churned. “Not like this he wouldn’t, Sundown. No one would.”

“No, you’re right. Time is precious.” He tugged on my sleeve. “Fallon, will you trust me?”

I frowned at him. He kept asking me to trust him, and I didn’t know how to do it yet. “What are you going to do?”

Sundown looked worried. “You’ve got to pay attention to the dog. He’s got something to show you.”
What the fuck? “The dog has to show me something? Why the dog?”

“He has to show you because no one can question him.” His scent and heat washed over me as he stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I beg you, Fallon. Do this.”

Sundown released my wrist and backed into the shadows before I could draw a breath to argue. Behind me, Juny yelled for me, calling me to come see something he’d found. I rolled my shoulders and tried to get my mind back on my work, but my brain refused. I yelled at Juny to take a chill pill. He shouted a few obscenities at me, but I didn’t hear all of it. The dog was back, his green eyes glowing at me.

No way. No fucking way.

The strangest notion I ever had in my life teased the fringes of my sanity.

Think, asshole. When have you ever seen a dog with green eyes?

No, I hadn’t, ever. Dogs don’t have green eyes.

Sundown does.

The world took a nasty dip in front of me, tilting me sideways before it suddenly righted itself. The dog whined. I hunkered down, but my shaking thighs betrayed me and I ended up with my knees on the ground to maintain my balance. I held out my hand to him and whispered what should have been complete and utter nonsense.

“Sundown?”

The dog rushed me. I grabbed at him to keep from falling over. His tail wagged furiously as he licked my face while I held on to his wiggling body in a vain attempt to get him to calm down. My vision hazed around the edges, and for a split second I feared I was about to black out. What had Sundown done to me at his apartment? He spoke of burning herbs. Had it been something with properties similar to marijuana? Was I fucking high?

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and turned my focus inward. I experienced no dizziness, no urge for sleep. My heart pounded abnormally fast—and hard—but that was all. No strange aftertaste when I blew my breath out. No munchies, either. I was much too sober to believe what I did. I opened my eyes and stared at the dog. With great care, he grasped my wrist with a mouth full of very sharp teeth and tugged.

Heaven help me.

“Okay. Let go of me, and I’ll follow you.”

He released me and raced away. I stared into the blackness, unable to fully comprehend what I knew was true.

How could I possibly believe Sundown could change… I needed help. Too many crime scenes. Too many mutilated bodies. Years of being on the front line and seeing the carnage that mankind inflicted upon itself had won. I’d snapped. No vacation could fix me now.

_*_*_*_

ABOUT THE BACK STAIRS:

Fallon Roxbury has a nose for trouble and the uncanny ability for landing in the middle of it the moment he finds it. While investigating the gruesome murder of a young male prostitute in the red-light district, Fallon gets a whiff of something very strange. Forensics has unidentified hairs. Very unidentified hairs, like nothing in any of the textbooks. Following a tip from a person of interest, Fallon meets Sundown, an apparent hustler who knows a lot more than he will admit.

Getting personally involved with Sundown breaks every rule in the police manual, and in Fallon’s own personal code. Sundown is like a drug, and Fallon can’t stop at just one hit. When Sundown is forced to reveal the truth, Fallon’s world is turned upside down, and he’s left with only two options: check himself in for psychiatric evaluation, or accept a new reality with a strange shift.

Shapeshifters, that is.

THE BACK STAIRS is available at:

iTunes/Apple



KC Kendricks






Wednesday, November 15, 2017

The Back Stairs by KC Kendricks for the MidWeek Tease


November 15, 2017
**Updated 4/2/21 - the MidWeek Tease blog hop is closed.**

 Welcome to the world of a true shapeshifter - Sundown's world. His kind can take on any form they choose - which gets pretty interesting for Sundown's lover, Fallon. 

This week for the MidWeek Tease, I have a couple of excerpts from The Back Stairs and the beginning of Fallon and Sundown's story. Be sure to check out all the MidWeek Tease offering using the list at the end of this post. Enjoy!

_*_*_*_*_


He smiled, and I melted inside, but I kept my best officer of the law face sternly in place.

“I heard it on the grapevine, Lieutenant. The fire marshal made us stop using smoke signals because it sent the boys in the station house into a tizzy.”

I knew the man he spoke of, and my cop composure cracked as I grinned at him.

“That would do it. Listen, whatever your name is, someone’s son is dead, and I need to find out who killed him, and why. If you don’t have any pertinent information, I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

He regarded me coolly, his green gaze strangely familiar. I’d seen him somewhere before, and it would bug the hell out of me until I remembered where. 

Why had Muffin told me to come here? My cop instincts, which were pretty good, said this fellow had told me the truth when he said he didn’t know Carlton. Those same instincts whispered the man was hiding something, though. But who didn’t have secrets?

“Come in and have a seat, Fallon. I happen to have some very good Kona coffee beans. I’ll grind up a few and put on a pot to brew.”

The hair on my arms prickled with unease. “How do you know my name? I didn’t give it to you.” 

My business card simply said, ‘F. Roxbury’. I didn’t give my name to Muffin, either. As for the coffee, Kona was difficult for me to turn down. 

“Word travels around here.” He took a step backward and motioned for me to take a seat at his table. 

I took a breath to tell him I was leaving, and caught the aroma of fresh-brewed java beneath the scents of sandalwood and patchouli. I was tired of getting jerked around, even by a man so incredibly sexy. Put it on to brew, my ass. 

“You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you? I don’t need pseudo-intimate conversation any more than I need to flirt.” 

He shook his head. “You didn’t listen very well, Fallon.”

“Listen to what? I’ve a mind to haul your scrawny carcass down to the precinct house and let someone else pick your brain for answers, but I don’t have a legitimate reason to have you interrogated. Yet.”

“Tough talk, but you don’t mean any of it. Please, Fallon. Come. Sit at my table, and think of nothing but my very good coffee.”

Would it be so bad to spend half an hour talking with this attractive young man? Heaven help me, he drew me, a tired moth to his steady flame. And he had my favorite coffee, already hot.

Words echoed in my memory. I tried to pull them in so I could hear them again. What had Muffin said? More importantly, it was what she hadn’t said. She didn’t actually say anyone here knew Michael Carlton. 

“I’ll sit at your table on one condition.”

He tilted his head, a smile teasing his full lips. “Oh? What is that?”

“You tell me your name.”

Was it victory I saw in his green eyes, or desire? I needed to know if they were the same. His chin lifted as his gaze locked to mine.

“You can call me Sundown.”

_*_*_*_

And later...


Sundown shook his head. “She didn’t see Michael Carlton, dead or alive, or anyone else go in or out of the alley until your people showed up.”

I clamped down on my anger. “That’s good to know, but I need to hear it from her.”

“Do you?” He cocked his head to the side. “You’re out of luck, Fallon. She is gone from here, and it is beyond my ability to bring her back.”

“Why’d she send me here, then?”

His green eyes flashed with his inner fire, anchoring me where I stood. “So I could give you want you needed, Fallon. What you need me to give you again.”

“Don’t be so damn sure of yourself. I don’t need you.” I lied, and he knew it, the knowledge reflected back at me in his level gaze.

“Come inside and tell me you do not need what I offer you.”

I didn’t think I could. My resolve to bully him into giving up Muffin’s whereabouts waned with every pheromone-laden breath I took. I stood inside the ring of warmth and scent that surrounded him. My erection relentlessly swelled toward completion, and I couldn’t stop it.

“I can’t compromise my investigation further, Sundown. Carlton’s parents are flying in to claim the body. I need to have answers for them.”

His fingers grazed mine, the gentle touch heating my blood.

“I knew you were a good man. I trust you, Fallon. Will you trust me?”

“I trust you to be nothing but trouble.”

_*_*_*_

ABOUT THE BACK STAIRS:

Fallon Roxbury has a nose for trouble and the uncanny ability for landing in the middle of it the moment he finds it. While investigating the gruesome murder of a young male prostitute in the red-light district, Fallon gets a whiff of something very strange. Forensics has unidentified hairs. Very unidentified hairs, like nothing in any of the textbooks. Following a tip from a person of interest, Fallon meets Sundown, an apparent hustler who knows a lot more than he will admit.

Getting personally involved with Sundown breaks every rule in the police manual, and in Fallon’s own personal code. Sundown is like a drug, and Fallon can’t stop at just one hit. When Sundown is forced to reveal the truth, Fallon’s world is turned upside down, and he’s left with only two options: check himself in for psychiatric evaluation, or accept a new reality with a strange shift.

Shapeshifters, that is.


The Back Stairs (Book #1 of the Sundown saga) is available at:







KC Kendricks
twitter.com/kckendricks










Wednesday, June 21, 2017

MidWeek Tease Blog Hop - The Ghost at the B&B - Kendricks/France

June 21, 2017
**Updated 4/2/21 - the MidWeek Tease blog hop is closed.**

Welcome to summer! Doesn't it seem like we reached mid-year awfully fast? It does to me but I guess that's what being happy and productive can do for you. There's just no time to sit and watch the grass grow. 

This week, as part of the MidWeek Tease Blog Hop, is an excerpt from The Ghost at the B&B. You won't find this excerpt anywhere else. It's special for today's blog hop. Enjoy!



_*_*_*_*_*_

EXCERPT:

As luck would have it, the headlights of a car flashed bright beams through the house as my bare feet touched the cold floor at the foot of the stairs. I peeked out the nearest window and saw the reflective decals on the cruiser. Colin smiled as I opened the door.

“You waited up for me? How nice. You really didn’t have to.”

I stepped into his arms and let him kiss me. He was warm and solid as I held him, and, best of all, when I pulled away, he blinked.

“I know that, smartass. I just came downstairs for a drink. Would you like one?” I motioned for him to follow me to the rear of the house.

He nodded and tagged along. “I’d love one. Do you have anything other than beer?”

“I’m going for the bourbon.” I didn’t say I thought he’d need one, too, once he heard my story.

“That sounds good to me. Listen, Michael. Don’t make a habit of waiting up for me. Shifts rarely end on time.”

I wanted to ignore the implication of his words but I couldn’t. He meant to stick around and see what was going on between us. I liked the idea and no way would I say anything to jinx it.

I pointed at a chair, then held up a fifth of whiskey. He sat and made a face. “Next time I come over I’ll bring you a bottle of something better.”

“I’m a poor untenured professor. This rotgut is all I can afford.” I checked the ice tray and found the icemaker had cycled a few times. I put a few cubes into two glasses, then poured us each a generous splash of bourbon. Colin murmured his thanks as I handed one to him.

“Just so you know, I wasn’t waiting up for you. I had a visitor.”

Colin tapped his glass to mine and took a sip. I could almost see him relax. He looked at me with open curiosity. “Who came to call this late? Do you have a boyfriend I don’t know about?”

“Got your hopes up for a threesome, big fella?”

He grinned from ear to ear as he lifted his glass and took another sip.

“Well, don’t unless you like sleeping with a…ghost.” Lord, but I felt silly saying the word out loud.

“Excuse me?” He leaned forward, his cop gaze razor-sharp as his full attention riveted on me.

“You heard me correctly. I had a conversation with a ghost who said his name is Robin.”

Colin gave me what I can only describe as a funny look. “I see. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

I took a healthy swallow of the booze and relayed the encounter. “And the fucker never blinked his eyes not even once. How fucking weird is that?”

Colin’s chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “You say he simply vanished?”

“I wasn’t dreaming, Colin. He—Robin—just sorta faded away. I turned on the light so I could see him better and that’s when he…dissipated.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Did you go down into the basement?”

“No way. If the weird noises I’ve been hearing are anything to go by, I think I have rats down there. Until someone gets rid of the little bastards, I’m not going down again.”

He chuckled wickedly. “I’m with you when it comes to rats, but I carry a gun.”

“Good. Go shoot the vermin.”

Colin leaned forward again. “Seriously, Michael. After what you’ve just told me, I need to go down in the basement and look around. If what the ghost said is true, it sounds as if he was murdered, and I need to see what I can find in the way of evidence.”

“You believe in ghosts?”

“I’m not saying that. But…”

“But what? You do but you don’t want to admit it?

“Not even that. Like I mentioned earlier, there have always been stories about this house being haunted..." 

ABOUT THE GHOST AT THE B&B


Michael Brooks’ life took an unexpected direction when he found the Taylor Mansion, a two-story Colonial perfect for a Bed & Breakfast. An untenured college professor, he’s suddenly also a successful entrepreneur. And best of all, he met sexy deputy Colin Jefferson and they hit it off in a big way. He’s even made friends with the mansion’s resident ghost. 

Deputy Colin Jefferson is a hometown boy who made good. As a member of the local police force, he serves the community he loves. He’s heard tales about the Taylor Mansion ghost all his life. Now he’s living there with Michael and knows the stories are true. There’s a ghost with a penchant for voyeurism lurking in his bedroom. 

How the ghost came to live in at the B&B is a mystery Michael and Colin need to solve. It’s the only way for their resident spirit to get justice and to find eternal rest. Until they can unearth the murderer, the friendly ghost at the bed and breakfast is a permanent guest. 


THE GHOST AT THE B&B

Available at
Barnes and Noble:

KC Kendricks





Saturday, April 22, 2017

Lightning Shifts (Chain Lightning) - available today!


April 22, 2017

** Chain Lightning has been re-issued with the title Lightning Shifts**

There is something a little peculiar about Eli Tate. Oh, he appears normal enough on the surface, but he’s spent years trying to remember what happened to him - and why he doesn’t age. Then there’s the way he can shift shape. He doesn’t know what kind of being he really is or if there are any others like him. What he does know he’s been in the same town for thirty years and he needs to move on.

Returning to the Big Apple, Eli takes up residence in his old apartment. An evening walk turns deadly when he’s attacked by pure evil. He barely escapes with his life - thanks to a stranger named Rio who is a shapeshifter like him.

Rio says he knows Eli and that he’s been searching for him for many years. Rio confesses they were once lovers. Eli has no memory of such a time, and now he’s out of options. To remember his past, and destroy the creature pursuing them, Eli has no choice but to trust Rio - and maybe fall in love with him again.


INTRO

It was a good thing Eli wasn’t vain. He had the height people noticed. His dark hair showed no sign of graying, and his whiskey-brown eyes reflected his intelligence. He’d looked like this as far back as his memory stretched. It could be a lot worse.
Being clean would be a lot better. He stepped into the master bath and opened the taps to fill the tub. A good hot soak was in order, and after that, some food.
The agency had stocked the fridge and pantry when they opened and readied the apartment. Going back out tonight posed too great a risk and Eli wasn’t fool enough to take it.
He sank down in the tub to submerge his aching shoulders. Flying was strenuous work. With Vihal hunting him he needed to condition his muscles. Sooner or later Vihal would come back to New York.
The hot water surrounded his body with soothing heat. A wave of exhaustion rolled through him. He closed his eyes.
Eli jerked awake. The water was cold and he wasn’t alone. He rolled to his feet in a shower of droplets, intent on getting to the Sig Saur he’d placed in the nightstand drawer. He skidded to a stop in the doorway, heart pounding at the sight of the man in his bedroom.
Rio calmly sat in the wing chair beside the window. He smiled. “Eli. Coming here was a bit predictable, wasn’t it?”
He had to keep his wits about him. Rio had helped him, but for what reason? “Apparently. Do you mind if I get dressed while we chat?”
Rio’s interested gaze swept him from head to toe and settled on his groin, where it stopped. “Maybe I do.”

EXCERPT

This was getting him nowhere. He wanted to get dressed and make a run for his Wyoming hideout - without Rio being able to follow him. Playing the game might be the only way to accomplish that.
“Okay, Rio. You’re sex on two feet. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
The man rubbed his forehead. “You don’t have a clue. This is a problem for me. I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t want you to go into some sort of shock and vanish again. It’s taken me too long to find you.”
“Why were you even looking for me? C’mon. Help me out here. Level with me.”
“You’re a valuable prize, Elimian. Vihal would see you dead. I would see you live.”
Another fucking riddle, but this one contained a clue.
“You’re talking about two factions? Why would the other side want to kill me? Money? Glory? The thrill of the kill?”
“Maybe all of the above. Get dressed. We should leave.”
Eli raised an eyebrow. “We? There is no ‘we’. You’re going to get out of my apartment and I’m going to ponder my next move.”
He shook his head. “No. Your safe houses have surely been discovered.”
He’d sensed a presence just before he left Elizabethtowne. Had that been Rio and not Vihal? No. It had been Vihal. He was sure of it now. That worried Eli more than he dared to let show. It might have been pure luck on Vihal’s part he got that close to him in Elizabethtowne.
“I disagree. This Vihal found me because I returned to the city. He’s had years to locate me, and he couldn’t.”
“True. But since he did find you, he’ll be able to continue to track you. We need a plan. I can get you to a safe place and we can figure out what to do next.”
“I don’t trust you.”
Rio nodded. “Fair enough. But I’m begging you to come with me. Give me twenty-four hours to change your mind about me.”
“And if at the end of the day I say adios, you’ll be good with that?” The look of anguish that flashed across Rio’s face made him blink. Had he really seen it?
Rio’s voice gave nothing away. “If that’s your decision, I will abide by it.”
“Very well. Now go in the kitchen and make it look like I was cooking. I’ll get dressed.”
“Don’t bother with good clothes. We need to take on wolf skin and run.”
“Right. We’ll step out onto the street, shift, and just trot down Broadway.”
“I’ve always loved your sarcastic wit.”
He froze, his gaze locked on Rio’s. His heart pounded in his chest as the black void in his memory rippled and his skin washed cold. “What the hell did you say? How do… Do you…Did you and I know each other in the past?”
He watched Rio’s chest rise and fall. The muscles in the man’s throat moved convulsively. His voice was so low as to be tortured whispered.
“You really don’t remember me?” He took a quick step forward. “Elimian? Eli? Please remember me.” He laid his palm on Eli’s chest.
Eli shook his head, confused. What had he missed? What had he been forced to forget to survive? The memory of the taste of the man’s blood filled his senses. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you. How do I know you?”
Rio cupped the back of his neck and pulled him closer. “We knew each other like this.”
Eli realized his intent a moment before their lips touched. He wanted to pull away but couldn’t. Rio held the key to his past...

__*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

 _*_*_*_*_*_*_
KC Kendricks