Publication date: January 30th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal Romance
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For millennia, the lalassu have existed at the fringes of society, hiding in the shadows. But someone is determined to drag them into the light.
Dani has spent years fighting against her family’s urges to take on the mantle of High Priestess for the lalassu. Stronger and faster than any ordinary human, she has no interest in being a guide for her people. She likes being independent and enjoys her night-job as a burlesque dancer. But a darker secret lurks inside of her, one which threatens everyone around her.
Isolated and idealistic, Michael works as a developmental therapist for children, using his psychometric gifts to discover the secrets they can’t share with anyone else. When one of his clients is kidnapped, he will do almost anything to rescue her. The investigation leads him to a seedy little performance club where he is shocked and thrilled to discover a genuine live superhero.
Michael and Dani must join forces to save those they care about from becoming the latest victims of a decades-long hunt. But the fiery chemistry between them threatens to unlock a millennia-old secret which could devour them both.
The clock is ticking and they will be faced with the ultimate hero’s choice: save the world or save each other?
Guest Post:
Finding Your Inner Burlesque Goddess
Burlesque is the art of expressing yourself through dance, comedy and sensuality. Size, shape, height, none of it matters. All that is important is finding the inner spark for yourself.
Want to try it out for yourself? Enjoy these tips from the Blue Curtain Club and the Jewels of the Night:
My name is Onyx and I’m a burlesque performer. Which is very different from being a stripper. Burlesque has a long and raucous history. We ruled the stage in the golden twenties, thirties and forties. Pretty much until TV. But we’re still here and still ready to make you laugh and blush at the same time.
So you want to try your hand at burlesque? It’s fun and easy and every girl should try it at least once. Here are a few simple and helpful tips.
Elastic is your friend. You know what’s not sexy? Struggling to remove clingy clothing. Even the most gorgeous gal (or guy) can cross the line from diva to dorky when hopping on one foot to try and get a flimsy scrap of fabric off. Professional dancers know the importance of elasticized fabric (such as spandex). It can cling when you need it to and then stretch nice and wide, leaving you room to wiggle and shimmy as it smoothly slides off.
Easy pull snaps and zippers. Stuck fastenings can eat up a lot of floor time. A smooth zipper can be a tease, a little down and then a little up. Burlesque is all about the tease and reveal. Tear-away snaps let you mount your own shock and awe campaign on the audience. Full length evening dress? Gone in an instant, leaving you in corseted splendor.
Be confident. Body shape isn’t important in burlesque, it’s all about the attitude. Find your inner sex goddess, whether it’s channeling Kirsten Vagsness or Twiggy, Cindy Crawford or Angelina Jolie. Own the stage from the moment you set foot on it. Know that you are sexy and beautiful.
Find the funny. Humor is what distinguishes burlesque from plain old fashioned stripping. Give your audience a surprise, make them think you’re about to open a corset but instead whip out a prop like a feather boa or a lace handkerchief. Find a ridiculous combination, like doing a strip-tease to a Disney song. Engage with the audience to set up jokes, like “I have two assets which help in my business, my big, beautiful … eyes.”
Enjoy yourself. This is the other part which really distinguishes burlesque from stripping. Watch a burlesque show and you’ll see genuine smiles on the performers’ faces. They’re having a good time and you should, too. Figure out where you’re comfortable and stick there. It doesn’t matter if you’re stopping at a corset or going down to pasties. You’re entitled to have just as much fun as the audience.
It’s all about the layers. Anyone can yank off a top when they’re not wearing a bra and flash the audience. It’s the performance equivalent of a quickie. Sometimes that’s what you want, but a real connoisseur can provide more. Most burlesque performers will end up in pasties and a g-string but how they get there is the most interesting part. Did they start off with balloons and pop them one by one to the 1812 Overture? Unwrap themselves from a sarong like the best party gift ever? Did they hide behind a feather fan to let little bits peep out? Or did they start in a mascot costume? The possibilities are as endless as the combinations.
Have a good pick-up partner. The trouble with all those layers is that eventually, someone has to retrieve them. A pick-up person is the unsung hero of the performance. Their job is to pick up all the bits on stage and usually to set up props for the next act. For a private performance, this is less of an issue but out in public, make sure someone is grabbing your discarded costumes. And remember to always throw backstage. I’ve lost more panties from bad aim than to bad dates.
Glamour gorgeousness. You are beautiful. You got it, flaunt it. This is the time to be larger than life and twice as fabulous. Fantastic eye makeup, elaborate hairstyles (provided you can move with them) and gorgeous clothing full of sequins and sparkles. All of it for you.
Don’t worry about the dancing. A sense of rhythm is helpful but not crucial. Some of the best performances have been done to slow songs without any sense of beat. Use the mood of the music to enhance your actions.
It’s always more fun with friends. Women can be the most catty, vicious creatures on earth but we also support our fellow sisters like nobody’s business when we have to. A few like-minded friends allow for plenty of theatrical possibilities and take the pressure off you as a single performer.
In the end, a burlesque performance should reflect who you are. No one can be really comfortable pretending to be something they’re not, even for a few minutes. If you’re an exhibitionist, go all out. If you’re shy, tease them into a frenzy. Like to cook? Come out in a Suzy Homemaker costume. Into horses? Whips, leather and riding habits. This is an invitation between you and the audience.
See you on stage.
- Onyx
Jennifer Carole Lewis
Revelations
www.pastthemirror.com
Rick’s Gas and Go was a blemish of light squatting in rural darkness. The GT convertible screamed into the empty lot, laying down rubber as Dani spun to a halt. Jumping out, she shouted. “Eric? Vincent?”
No answer. Only faint whispers of the wind moving across empty fields. The station was long closed for the night with no one to question or ask for help. Her mouth and lips were dry as she scanned the area, and her hands kept tightening into fists. She pushed aside the fear threatening to lock her in place and began to search.
To Dani’s eyes, the deep shadows of night were easy to pierce—a world washed in blue and indigo. Blocking out the harsh lights of the station, she studied the sparse weeds struggling to survive in the thin soil, nothing higher than her ankle. No ditches.
“Vincent! Eric!” she shouted again.
Nothing stirred.
Dammit. Spinning back, the light from the station blinded her. The phone. It was just outside the deserted convenience store, a relic from the days before cellphones. The heavy receiver swung from its silver cord. Squatting down beside it, she inhaled deeply, running the air through her nose and across her tongue. Beneath the stench of oil and gasoline, she caught the coppery tang of fresh blood.
Fuckshitcrap. Despair hammered at her. She and her brothers had always stuck together, taking care of each other when no one else bothered. In a flurry of constant relocating and hiding, her brothers were the only ones she could rely on. Their parents had certainly been too preoccupied with their own challenges to notice what their children were going through. She’d come as fast as she could when they’d called. But it hadn’t been enough—another failure.
Moving slowly over the ground, disturbing the air as little as possible, she swung her head back and forth, trying to track where the blood scent came from. Her artfully disheveled coiffure and two inch heels were a nuisance now, so she kicked off her shoes and whipped her hair back into a practical ponytail as she skimmed back and forth close to the ground, inhaling deeply like a bloodhound. There. Off to the side and partially in shadow, a pile of old pumps and fragments of broken machinery was the only cover available near the cold bright lights. With Vincent hurt, they would have hidden rather than fight.
Studying the jumbled bits of metal, Dani noticed something that didn’t belong. Fresh flakes of rust and scratches dotting the concrete in a six foot swath in front of the pile. Picking up a cracked alternator, she found fresh marks in the metal. The pile had been disturbed and then put back to avoid leaving obvious signs of a struggle. She shoved the junk aside and revealed something she’d hoped not to find.
Fresh blood smeared on the ground.
Dipping her fingers, she brought it close to her nose. At this range, there could be no doubt. It was Vincent’s: an unmistakable blend of liquor, old smoke, and leather. After years of living in the next room, she knew his scent better than her own. Fury blazed, tightening her arms, back, and teeth. The alternator clenched in her fist groaned as her fingers dented the pitted metal.
Rising, she was about to stalk back to the car when she noticed a stray cat staring at her from the edge of the weedy field. Its eyes were glowing green and its fur was a patchwork of colors. Above it, a slim crescent of moon rose over the fields.
Chill curled over her skin as she remembered seeing this exact scene before—almost a month ago, with her sister.
Gwen had been drawing by candlelight, curled in the corner of her room, looking more like a little girl than the young woman she was. Dani set the basin full of warm water down on the irregular flagstone floor and knelt beside her. The stale odor of old sweat couldn’t completely hide the delicate hints of lily-of-the-valley. It was her sister’s smell, and couldn’t be completely smothered, no matter what—just like Gwen.
Part of her hated these visits, hated how Gwen was locked up in their family’s farm house, unable to step outside for even a few minutes. But the larger part of Dani treasured them: brief moments of lucidity, hints of the little sister who might have been. Dani always stood between her sister and the dangers of the world, standing over her bed when they were little and beating up anyone who dared to hint that her baby sister wasn’t normal.
But Gwen wasn’t normal, and it couldn’t be hidden any more, no matter how much she’d wanted to deny it and believe it wasn’t true. So Dani hid her frustration, and came home to help her parents take care of her as often as possible.
“It’s important,” Gwen insisted, not looking up.
“I’m sure it is. I brought the stuff for a bath. Maybe we could do your hair tonight.” Dani touched her sister’s stiffened, close-cropped strands. The darkness of her hair only emphasized the chalky pallor of Gwen’s skin. Blue veins traced a net, as if trapping her determined spirit inside her fragile body.
“Not many pleasant images. Always remember the dark times best. Want to show me witches burning or battlefields. Sometimes it’s like I’m drowning in blood.” Gwen’s voice choked at the end and her bony fingers closed around her throat.
Dani caught her sister’s hand in her own, hoping to distract her from the visions and voices that tormented her. “Not today. Not here.”
“No. Not here.” A small mercy, given the amount of effort they’d put into creating this one safe haven. Gwen stared at the closed door, her huge eyes even wider in fear. “Out there, they scream and beg. All of them lining up and shoving to get inside—”
“They can’t get in, Gwen. Not in here. I brought some food, too. Mom says you’re not eating.” She showed Gwen the plate of fruit and gently steaming muffins.
Gwen’s face lit up in a childlike, beaming smile, brightening her bruised eyes. “For me?”
“Come on, wash your hands and I’ll do your hair while you eat.”
Gwen spread her thin fingers decorated with charcoal smudges. “Sometimes I can’t tell if it’s dirt or shadow. Is it still winter?”
“It’s spring now. The birds are building nests and there are flowers by the side of the road.” Dani dipped a cloth in water and began to wipe down Gwen’s fingers. “Soon it’ll be
About The Author:
She is a devoted comic book geek and Marvel movie enthusiast. She spends far too much of her precious free time watching TV, especially police procedural dramas. Her enthusiasm outstrips her talent in karaoke, cross-stitch and jigsaw puzzles. She is a voracious reader of a wide variety of fiction and non-fiction and always enjoys seeking out new suggestions.
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1 comments:
Thanks, Catina, for being part of my book blitz. I have to admit the "Finding Your Inner Burlesque Goddess" was my favorite post. And it was a lot of fun to research. :)
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