Bugs and Hisses Free Fiction: Necro-Quellers by M.D. Grimm

October 22, 2015

To celebrate Halloween this month, some of our paranormal authors will be sharing with us some free fiction.

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Pain spiked through my shoulder and knee as I leaned against the wall to stay standing. My best friend in the entire world stood in front of me, acting like an immovable barrier between me and the ten corpses possessed by the jiangshi shuffling toward us. Maverick told me the jiangshi were evil spirits known to the Chinese, and they infested newly dead corpses and reanimated them. How such monsters showed up in freaking San Francisco, Maverick told me was courtesy of an amateur conjurer named Mr. Chinn. Maverick would know—this was his business. He was a clairvoyant, often communicated with the dead, and every now and then expelled demons from possessed persons. He hated his gift, but used it to help those in need. I loved his strength and courage… of course, I loved everything about him. I was hopelessly, pathetically in love with my best friend who also happened to be supremely straight.

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“Reggie, time to go buddy,” he said.

I cringed. “Right. What with my fucking shoulder and knee, I’m sure I’ll outrun them.”

Maverick grunted. With two machetes in each hand, he succeeded in keeping the Jiangshi at bay, but he couldn’t keep this up forever. Two corpses suddenly pounced, and I flinched even as Maverick sliced and diced them like some badass movie action hero. I guess having a retired, ex-Army sniper for a father helped with stuff like this.

Maverick suddenly took a step backward, closer to me, and crouched.

“On my back,” he said.

“What—?”

“Now.”

Gritting my teeth, I limped forward and climbed on Maverick’s back. A groan of pain escaped me before I stifled it. I wrapped one arm over his shoulder, the other slipped under his arm, and I gripped my hands tightly against his chest. My knee didn’t like me bending it but I didn’t have a choice. I tightened my legs around his waist and he only grunted as my weight settled on his back. I might only be five feet tall compared to his six foot frame, but I was more muscled than him. I wasn’t a lightweight.

“You will hold on to me.” There was steel in his voice. “You will not let go. I will not lose you.”

I tightened my grip and pressed closer to him. “Right.”

I felt Maverick take a breath, then he launched forward, running at full speed. The jiangshi surged forward and hands tried to grab me. I held on tighter and trusted Maverick with my life. Maverick’s arms never stopped, never slowed, and limbs and bodily fluids flew everywhere, drenching us it disgusting crap. But suddenly we burst out of the chaos and Maverick ran faster down the deserted street before turning sharply into an alley. I felt him stagger and as he stumbled forward and fell to one knee, I shoved off his back, falling to the ground beside him. We both gasped for breath, shaking with adrenaline.

A few minutes passed before I gripped his shoulder. He looked at me, and I was always struck by his pale, blue eyes. They were unusual eyes, unique and hypnotizing.

I smirked. “My hero.”

He scowled, his lean face tightening. “Bite me.”

“Anytime, anywhere.” I chuckled at his obvious discomfort. He knew I was gay—he didn’t care—but he hated it when I flirted with him. Which, of course, made me flirt every chance I got.

“Get off,” Maverick said, but he chuckled.

“What now?” I asked.

His expression turned cold, his smile sharp. “Now we find the bastard who caused all this and end him.”

I knew it was my fault, but I couldn’t kick myself right now, I had to focus on survival. Mr. Chinn gripped my shoulder with one hand and the other pointed a gun at my temple. I hated being the damsel in distress.

Maverick stood a few feet from us, his own gun pointed at Mr. Chinn, the look in his eye deadly. Maverick was irrational when it came to protecting those he cared for. I had to hope he’d keep a level head.

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“Put your gun down, now! Or your friend becomes one of my pets!” Mr. Chinn was screaming threats but I don’t think Maverick was listening. His eyes were cold, calculating, and even I was a little scared. He suddenly met my eyes and jerked his head in a nod. I swallowed hard. I knew self-defense, had trained for years, and it looked like it was time to employ some.

I took a deep breath before gripping Mr. Chinn’s wrist and shoving his arm up even as my body dropped to the floor. I obviously caught him off guard and his hand convulsed, firing the gun. A second shot quickly followed, and I yelped as Mr. Chinn jerked backward and collapsed onto the floor. With wide eyes, I looked over to see that a neat bullet hole marred his forehead. I swung my head around to look at Maverick. His expression was frigid, hard, unforgiving.

“You good?” he asked.

I cleared my throat to make sure I could speak. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

***

I sat on the bumper of the ambulance. The EMT patched me up as much as she could, insisting I go to the hospital. I wasn’t about to argue, but I wanted to see Maverick first. The cops interrogated both of us separately, but we’d had time before they arrived to coordinate our story. It’s not like we could mention zombies and get away clean.

After about an hour, Maverick approached, and the EMT stepped away. He watched me cautiously before easing down beside me on the bumper. He wondered if I was afraid of him. Silly man.

“Hey, ghost boy,” I said, smiling.

Relief relaxed his features. “Hey, gay man.”

We were silent for a long moment as activity went on around us.

“While I don’t condone taking the life of another,” I said softly. “I will thank you for saving my life.”

He rested an arm across my shoulders. “You’re welcome.”

I leaned into him, resting my head against his chest. We got looks, and I know Maverick didn’t care. We’d been through a lot together and I knew he loved me. Just not that way. Oh well, I was damn lucky to know him.

“Wanna grab a beer?” I asked.

“Yeah. After I shower for about fifty years.”

I chuckled.

Website: www.mdgrimmwrites.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&query=md+grimm

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001710645622

 

Picture credits:

Pic 1: Jiang Shi by Anja Millen at DeviantArt

Pic 2: J for Jiang Shi by tohdaryl on DeviantArt

Pic 3: Zombie-art JD Rucker

 

Wouldn’t Dream Of Love with Lex Chase

October 22, 2015

DSP_Wouldn't_Dream_Of_Love

As I say on my blog, Hello, Internet! I’m Lex Chase and welcome to the latest installment of this month’s Dreamer column! This month’s theme is Wouldn’t Dream of It, and this one was a toughie for me!

I was thinking…hmmm…I could do something Halloween themed? Something scary? But this time, I decided to tone it back to something possibly even scarrier. I’m talking about love. For old dogs that thought that they would never meet that one person, they wouldn’t dream of love. That would be something that would never happen to them. Love is something that happens to other people.

AmericanaFairyTaleFS BayouFairyTaleFS

 

In my latest release the long awaited Bayou Fairy Tale the sequel to Americana Fairy Tale, we find the our heroes Taylor and Corentin living their Happily Ever After. Things have more or less worked out for them, but Corentin, being the old huntsman and 22 years older than his beloved princess, he’s still in awe that such a thing could happen.

When we met Corentin in Americana, he had lost his way, lost his faith, and was resigned to the fact that all his life was meant for was to be at the beck and call of wicked queens and evil stepmothers. Love wasn’t something on his agenda. Love was something he had completely written out of his vocabulary.

His idea of physical affection, minus the actual affection was renting a boy for the evening for some entertainment and moving on.

And then Taylor waltzed into his life like a Kamikaze pilot smashing into the side of an aircraft carrier. Taylor is not known for subtlety. He is also not known for poise, grace, and sure as hell doesn’t have any kind of manners. He is also of the mind that love was never in the cards for him either. Who would love a guy so flawed? His life a mess? His baggage? His method was to cover himself in a shell of anger to keep anyone from finding him anywhere attractive.

Corentin on the surface was nothing but heartlessness. But try to scratch off his surface and there’s only more surface underneath. It made things easier if he never formed attachments to anyone. Especially if they were one of his targets and he had to assassinate them.

They mutually found each other in the lowest points of their lives. And while on their absolutely insane adventure, they internalized that what was happening between them, wasn’t. They are the absolutely slowest of slow burns. And it makes my toes curl with delight. Because the anticipation I think makes it that much more worth it.

They were terrified to make that step. To place their trust in each other to not only survive the entire ordeal, but for Corentin to believe once it was over Taylor would just be off again.

In Bayou, Corentin still struggles with that. He struggles with making peace that Taylor is in it for the long haul. When Taylor says Corentin is his true love, it isn’t lip service. That’s something no one says lightly. Especially not Enchants. But Corentin is terrified that Taylor says that now but when difficulties arise, or if things get serious, or too real. Or Taylor realizes that being with Corentin has it’s own long line of responsibilities, he’s going to bolt.

Corentin never thought he would ever be in love, feel love, and want to do everything in his power to keep it. But for a middle-aged gruff old wolf, can love be real?

Can he let himself accept and believe Happily Ever After can be true?

Find out more about Corentin’s journey to love an acceptance with Taylor and with himself in Bayou Fairy Tale. On sale now!


My question to you! What is your wildest dream? What is the one thing on your bucket list you dream of doing? Nothing to big or small! Me? I once dreamed of being an astronaut! Could happen!

One lucky commenter will snag themselves a $5 USD DSP Gift Certificate!

Bugs and Hisses Free Fiction: Big Bad Wolf by Piper Vaughn

October 21, 2015

To celebrate Halloween this month, some of our paranormal authors will be sharing with us some free fiction.

Big Bad Wolf (A Portland Pack Chronicles Flash Fic)

It wasn’t often Avery and Jaden’s schedules allowed them time to shift and play together, but on Halloween, they got a rare opportunity to run and pounce in Forest Park.

As Avery stripped, shivering at the blustery wind, he took a moment to admire Jaden’s animal form. Simply put, Jaden was beautiful. Where Dylan, Avery’s mate, was a powerhouse of a wolf, large and heavily muscled, Jaden was compact, built more for speed than brute strength. Shades of cream and russet accented his shiny auburn coat. He lifted his rear, tail wagging, and yipped encouragingly, his amber eyes gleaming with mischief.

Avery smiled and stepped out of his briefs, letting the change overtake him. The trees swirled as he shrank into his hedgehog form, his spines bursting forth with the familiar flash of pain. When it was over, he sneezed at the overwhelming scents of loamy soil, moss, and decaying leaves.

A wet tongue dragged over his snout and then Jaden nuzzled at him gently. Hedgehogs weren’t tactile creatures like wolves, but Avery nuzzled back, drawing in Jaden’s sweet, musky smell.

For a while they romped through the trees, Avery scurrying on his tiny paws, and Jaden loping ahead before circling back to keep pace with him. With a wolf as his companion, any predators that might have eyed Avery for a snack kept their distance.

Eventually they returned to where they’d left their clothing. Avery shifted to his human form and sat to reorient himself until the cold compelled him to start yanking on his clothes.

“That was fun,” Jaden said once they were dressed. “I need a shower before we go out, though.”

Avery nodded. “Me too. I have a surprise for Dylan tonight.”

Jaden arched his eyebrows. “You didn’t mention any surprises.”

“Wait and see.”

“Is he meeting you at Wolfhound?”

“Yeah. He had to go look at Miss Betty’s car. She’s helping me by making him stay for dinner.”

Jaden smiled and shook himself, sending a dried leaf flying from his ginger hair. “Well, I’ll see you there. Eight o’clock?”

“Yep. But I might be fashionably late.”

Jaden snorted. “When aren’t you?”

Avery grinned cheekily. “Just have your camera ready.”

 

****

 

Two hours later, he hesitated in front of Wolfhound. Two men stood smoking to the left of the entrance and they eyed him with open fascination as Avery adjusted his skimpy costume.

Here goes nothing.

Chin raised, he swept into Wolfhound. As usual, hair metal greeted him. Avery ignored the screeching guitars, eager to see Dylan after spending the day apart.

Sensing his mate’s presence on the other side of the bar near the pool tables, Avery hurried his steps. He ignored the side glances and comments from the other patrons. He wasn’t the only one in costume, but he stood out for several reasons.

Jaden and Sawyer saw him first. Quiet, implacable Sawyer choked on his mouthful of beer while Jaden let out a bark of a laugh that drew everyone’s attention.

When Dylan spotted Avery, his eyes bugged. Avery approached him and slowly spun around so Dylan had a view of the back of his costume. He shook his ass, swinging the fake bushy tail suspended from the broad belt above his hips.

“What. The hell. Are you wearing?” Dylan sounded constipated.

Avery shot him a coy look over his shoulder—which Dylan missed, as he was staring at Avery’s tail in horror.

“I’m the big bad wolf.” Avery turned to face his mate. “Sort of.”

The costume was a loose interpretation. It consisted of a skintight gray romper with a low-cut halter top that left most of Avery’s chest bare. Furry leg warmers made up his hind paws and a hood with big ears and tassels completed the outfit. Avery hadn’t bothered tucking, and the material hid nothing. Both his bulge and lower asscheeks were on full display. Any other time, he wouldn’t have been caught dead in something so tacky, but it was Halloween. If there was ever time for a trashy costume, it was now.

“I brought you something too.” Avery dug into his messenger bag and pulled out the sweater, nose, and ears he’d purchased for Dylan. The sweater had fake spines and padding on the back, meant to mimic the look of a rounded hedgehog.

Dylan snapped his jaw shut. “Fuck no.”

Around him, their friends watched with open amusement. Too bad Lucas wasn’t there. He would’ve at least leered at Avery a little.

Avery pouted. “Come on. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“Nope.” Dylan turned away.

Avery narrowed his eyes at his back. Dylan could play hard to get if he wanted, but Avery would wear him down.

He started his attack with a lot of bending—over the pool table to line up a shot, down to the floor when he “accidentally” dropped his cue stick. He felt eyes on his ass every time, and once or twice, he might have wiggled his hips a little just to set the tail swinging.

Finally, Dylan growled and snatched the bag off the table where Avery had set it.

“Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll wear the damn costume if you stop flashing your ass! I don’t want anyone else seeing what’s mine.”

Avery widened his eyes and amped up his Southern twang. “Me? Flashing? I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.”

Dylan glared. “Shut it.”

Avery watched as Dylan pulled on the sweater and then set the ears on top of his head. The nose came last, and it made Dylan look absolutely ridiculous. Avery smiled gleefully and pounced on his mate. He kissed Dylan, not caring that Wolfhound wasn’t a gay bar. No one in their group would mind, and Avery didn’t care about anyone else.

Dylan growled again and dragged him close. “Such a brat,” Dylan whispered against his mouth. “I oughta put you over my knee.”

Light flashed and a shutter clicked as someone nearby took a picture.

Avery laughed and nipped at Dylan’s lower lip. “Maybe later. And if you’re a good boy, I’ll keep the tail on.”

 

****

 

Meet Dylan and Avery in Prickly Business, now available from Dreamspinner Press.

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Buy link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6530

And look for the sequel, Prickly By Nature, on November 19th!

 

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Piper Vaughn Bio

Piper Vaughn wrote her first love story at eleven and never looked back. Since then, she’s known that writing in some form was exactly what she wanted to do. A reader at the core, Piper loves nothing more than getting lost in a great book—fantasy, young adult, romance, she loves them all (and has a two-thousand-book library to prove it!). She grew up in Chicago, in an ethnically diverse neighborhood, and loves to put faces and characters of every ethnicity in her stories, so her fictional worlds are as colorful as the real one. Above all, she believes that everyone needs a little true love in their life… even if it’s only in a book.

 

Visit Piper at:

Website

Facebook

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Loss, Recovery, Hope… and Cannibalism with Evelyn Esrig

October 21, 2015

Loss Recovery Hope and Cannibalism

Hi! I’m Evelyln Esrig and today I’m releasing my novella Sweetbreads and Sweet Nothings. It’s a strange little book about loss, recovery, hope, … and cannibalism. If you watch NBC’s Hannibal I’m pretty sure my story will seem tame by comparison.

The idea for Sweetbreads and Sweet Nothings came about ages ago, when I rediscovered the Consensual Cannibalism case. The story of a cannibal and his willing prey first cropped up in the news cycle in the early 2000s back when I was in high school. Apparently a two German men named Armin Meiwes and Bernd-Jurgen Brandes met in a cannibal forum and arranged to meet so that Meiwes could butcher and eat Brandes, with Brandes’ full and enthusiastic consent.  Needless to say, my friends and I, geek scifi/horror nerds the lot of us, were obsessed for weeks. But like many teenagers, our attention spans were fleeting and we eventually moved on.

Years later, I had a shiny new creative writing degree and a lot of free time on my hands when the story crossed my path again. It popped up on something like Facebook or Twitter in February 2012. Once again I was enthralled. Consensual cannibalism. How was that possible? The ethical ramifications alone made for some pretty meaty material.

I almost began writing about a cannibal but then I thought “What about the man he ate? What must his family think of this person they thought they knew willingly consenting to be consumed? What must it be like to be that person’s next of kin?” and suddenly I had a whole different story on my hands.  I had a story about someone who lost someone they loved for reasons beyond their understanding and that was a story I wanted to explore more than I wanted to get inside the mind of a killer.

I wanted to be as non-judgmental as possible. I wanted to try and understand. I wanted to understand what would motivate someone to commit the crime of cannibalism, assisted suicide by cannibalism, and what it was like to have someone disappear from your life without a trace. I tried to make it about empathy and rebuilding and recovery. I parked myself at my local Cheesecake Factory listening to My Chemical Romance and The Arctic Monkeys and ate a lot of complimentary bread as I worked.

But what started as a simple story about being left behind evolved from an experiment in fiction for me in the spring of 2012 when someone close to me committed suicide. Needless to say, suddenly I was much deeper in touch with my main character than I had been before. The story became an exercise in acceptance and understanding something that is beyond comprehension – How do we come with the reality that sometimes people choose to leave us in violent and tragic ways? How do we move on? How do we heal? These are the questions that I tried to explore in this story. I don’t know if I accomplished it but I know that when I finished writing it, I certainly felt healed.

Have you ever had an experience like that – where you fell into something that helped you just the way you needed in the least likely way? It’s a beautiful thing and I’d love to hear about it.

<3

@evelynesrig

evelynesrig.tumblr.com

evelynesrig@gmail.com

 

Bugs and Hisses Free Fiction: The Merran Changling by Jaime Samms

October 19, 2015

To celebrate Halloween this month, some of our paranormal authors will be sharing with us some free fiction.

 

“’Kay, seriously, Kimmo, this is ridiculous.” Louis tugged his retriever’s leash. “You’re a water dog. You’re supposed to swim. You don’t swim. So fine. Can we go get coffee? I mean dude. Six AM. I need caffeine.”

Kimmo gave a short, displeased yip and plunked his ass down on the well-worn dock planks.

“Kim-mo!” The dog was not moving unless Louis physically hefted him off his ass and carried him. “You’re killin’ me here. You think if you stare out to sea long enough, some pretty girl with a tail will swim up and save you walking another block?” Something splashed and Kimmo yipped again.

“The hell?” Louis stepped closer to the dock’s edge. Wood creaked underfoot. Kimmo backed on his butt toward the grass. Swallowing his own terror, Louis leaned further, like a few more inches could bring the distant…whatever-it-was…into focus.

“What is that?” Whatever it was, it was definitely bigger than the average fish caught off this pier. Just under the mirror surface of the water, it sped toward them.

Beneath Louis, planks groaned and dipped. Louis flailed, dropping Kimmo’s leash as rotten wood gave way. The crack of wood and screech of nails was silenced by water rushing over Louis’s head. Kimmo’s yipps deepened to alarm and then were lost. Something heavy slammed into Louis’ back, pushing him deeper under its weight. Seaweed tangled about his ankles and wound around his arms.

He tried to scream. Rank water flooded into him. The sun’s rays arrowed into the deep, chasing him downward, reaching insubstantial fingers through the golden filigree of rising bubbles.

Darkness crowded in. Cold wheedled through skin into bones, making them heavy. His chest burned. His throat closed and ached. The sun glimmering above became a dream-like promise as water clogged his lungs. His vision darkened to a field of wavering plants, lashed by his frenzy. His feet touched sand and sank. He lost feeling and the battle with whatever anchored him to the harbour floor. In a last pulse, all the air left his body.

He stared up at the unattainable glow above as it slowly glinted toward darkness.

A face, ethereal and haloed in wavering fronds appeared in his fading vision. Cold, hard hands gripped his face. Something chilled covered his mouth. Icy air pushed down his windpipe into his body, freezing him from the inside out.

Kicking, prying at the hands, he tried to push his way to the surface as the weight over his back eased away. The hands didn’t let him go. Something wrapped around both legs, cold and hard, like steel, ridges cutting into his flesh. The warm flow of his blood mingled with the freezing water.

Again, the face loomed. Lips closed over his. Frigid air was forced into him. He quailed. His chest tightened, his body convulsed and he tried to break free.

Arms wrapped around his chest and water rushed over him as he was propelled through it, not upward to safety, but further from shore. He writhed, scratching and struggling but the grip only got harder, the pinch of spines into his flesh deepening. The breath once more forced into him made him scream with the pain of the cold.

He pushed at the solid chest pressing close to his, blinking through salt water at the face so near his own. Slanted silver eyes fixed on him. They didn’t look at all menacing. Curious. Worried, but not evil. Then the creature leaned close again and placed its chill lips over his.

Let me save you.

Louis blinked and shook his face free for another look at the creature. His lungs protested as the air in them grew stale and tried to force its way out to make room for more.

The creature laid it’s forehead against Louis’s temple. The Sea will take you. Alive or dead, it will take you. Let me keep you.

The creature moved back and looked into Louis’ eye. The plea was as readily apparent in that gaze as it had been in Louis’ mind.

He nodded.

The creature took Louis’ face in cold, unyielding hands, closed lips over Louis’, and pushed air into him. His body shuddered under the assault of cold and he quickly went numb. His brain screamed silently for surcease before darkness crowded in.

Heat, glorious and heavy, settled over Louis. He smiled. A dream. The Sea hadn’t claimed anything. A wet tongue lapped at his face and he laughed. “Kimmo. Cut it out.” He pushed the furry face away and opened his eyes.

Bright sunshine hammered down on him. His back was cool, but his chest and face felt like they might fry in the direct glare.

“You’ll have to turn soon.”

The unexpected voice had Louis whipping around to find its source. His body, heavy and clumsy, flopped, disobeying his orders and he looked down.

His legs…tail?

He kicked—flopped—the huge fluke where his feet should be was too heavy to lift.

“You’re weak, still. You need more sun to harden your scales, but your skin will burn easily. You’re paler than most.”

Louis reared back, away from the speaker, helpless to get away.

“Careful. The rocks are sharp. Your scales aren’t hardened yet.”

A young man, eyes slightly slanted and reflecting the silver-blue of the autumn sky, gazed at him. Long, pitch-black hair hung around his shoulders, damp tendrils falling across one high cheekbone. His smooth, pale chest darkened to blueish just under his nipples. The rest of him hid behind a rock.

“The sun has no mercy for our kind.”

“Who—” Louis tried to sit up. “What?”

The man smiled at him, revealing a row of unsettlingly pointed teeth

“What…are you? What did you do to me?” His horrified glare had no effect on the man.

“Gave you to the sea. You consented.”

“I—you’re Merran?”

His companion nodded.

“But you’re a myth.”

The smile softened. He pushed some hair off Louis’ face. “Indeed. And I suppose now so are you.””

2014-02-27 21.55.33

More from Jaime Samms here!

 

Release Party Brita Addams’ Beloved Unmasked – Behind the Laptop

October 16, 2015

Beloved UnmaskedHi there. Brita Addams back with you for the final hour of my release party for Beloved Unmasked.

I’m often asked what inspires my stories, so I’d like to share a few things with you about Beloved Unmasked.

First, I never name a book, or hardly ever name a book until I’m finished writing. Every now and again, a title will come to me while I’m writing, and those are blessed moments.

Beloved Unmasked’s title will be obvious to readers once they get into the book, so I won’t share that here, but I would like to tell you about how the book was born.

A year ago, my sister told me that an elderly woman she and a friend cared for had passed away. Deloris had lived a colorful life, had traveled all over, and had settled near her son in North Carolina. Before that, though, Deloris had been a psychic in New Orleans, at the famous Bottom of the Cup Tea Room, for more than twenty years. Sis told me that Deloris’s walls were lined with pictures of people she’d read the tea leaves for, including Tony Curtis and Kevin Costner. Those two, she was apparently particularly proud of.

I’d wanted to do a story set in New Orleans, having lived there for many years, and the psychic angle intrigued me–until I dove into my research. Given that Deloris could no longer give me her insight, the research was merely bland recitations of encounters with psychics. Then I tried to fit my characters into a mold that, frankly, didn’t fit the story. After three months of battling with myself, I scrapped the psychic angle and the characters I had created. They will however, at some point, come to life, as I have a story in mind for them.

The one thing that kept turning up was Storyville and with my inquisitive mind, I wanted to know all there was to know about that period in New Orleans history. I read five different books, a gazillion websites, and interviews conducted with musicians and former residents of Storyville, and settled on the path I wanted to take with the book.

Amid tears and laughter for six months, I wrote the book in two POVs. Then I submitted it to Dreamspinner. They accepted it and then began the wait for production. I have to give kudos to my editor, Desi, who always knows what I want the finished product to be. She is deft not only at those insane commas, but at seeing the big picture. In the first editing email I got from Desi, she suggested I do two things: Make the book from Pic/David’s POV, and change the second main character. She enumerated her reasons and in doing so, confirmed for me what I had felt uneasy about all along.

Spence, David and EmileI did indeed rewrite the second half of the book and oh, my, am I glad I did. The story is all the richer for having taken her advice.

To the left you’ll see how I work. This picture was taken during the writing of Beloved Unmasked. You can see my inspiration for Spence in the white shirt, with Pic/David inset. I’m a visual writer, so I always print out pictures of my character and have them in front of me. Then I give the links to the pictures to cover artist, Anne Cain, and she incorporates them into my lovely covers.

While my desk might look chaotic, it is very organized. I keep index cards for each character and you’ll see a few of them scattered about. Notes, notes, and more notes on yellow pads, and of course, my coffee cup. All part of the writing prescription.

On the stand behind David and Spence is what I call my writing bible. It contains tons of information on craft, alternative words, emotions, you name it, it’s there.

What you can’t see, is to the left I have a white board which I use as a story board. Right now, I’m loading it up with index cards for the next book in the series, Without Question. You’ll meet Emile in Beloved Unmasked, and WQ is his story. I’m not sure I’ve ever written a more compelling secondary character, but he does deserve his own story. I’m about 25k in at the moment.

I hope you enjoy Beloved Unmasked. The era is fascinating and I hope you’ll find the characters compelling as well. They still live with me, months after I finished writing BU. For more BU Trivia, check out the post on my blog on October 19th. Who says we don’t put ourselves into our work?

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Giveaway: Stop by my blog between October 16 and 23 for a series of posts on Storyville. Leave a substantive comment (not “I’m in” or the like,) about the posts and on November 1, I’ll select the winner of a New Orleans-themed gift pack. Beloved Unmasked isn’t included in the giveaway.

 

bitmoji-1704664567About the pre-release buzz about Beloved Unmasked:

Beloved Unmasked is a beautifully written historical romance. You can feel the streets of New Orleans, see the sights, and hear the sounds. (Cathy Brockman – MM Good Book Reviews)

When you want a historical you can really sink into and feel like you are there, this is the book to pick up. Really amazingly well done. A Recommended Read (Tina Brunelle – Redz World)

Beloved Unmasked has a whole lot packed into the pages. Brita Addams has certainly done her research about New Orleans. (Kazza – On the Top Down Under Reviews)

 

 

 

Dreamspinner has Beloved Unmasked on sale until October 18, at 25% off. Buy now to get the great discount.

 

Beloved Unmasked

Cherished One: Book One

A Tarnished novel

Blurb:

Born to a spiteful prostitute in Storyville, the red-light district in New Orleans, David comes into the world as Picayune, meaning “of little value,” or, as his mother reminds him, “nothing.” In the early 20th century brothels and clubs, his love of music sustains young Pic until a life-changing meeting places him on the road to respectability, and Pic reinvents himself as David Reid.

As David realizes happiness for the first time, conscription forces his friend and first love, Spencer Webb, into the Great War. While he pursues a law degree, letters from Spence connect David to his hopes for the future. After staggering news at war’s end, David must find a way to move forward. Under the tutelage of his benefactor, David’s career prospers, but specters from Storyville threaten all he’s worked so hard to achieve.

The past holds both pain and love. Will facing it head-on destroy David or give him everything he’s ever dared dream?

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I’ve had a great time at this release party and I hope you have too. But we aren’t done! The party continues all this week, from October 16 to the 23rd on my blog. Each day, I’ll post an interesting post about Storyville, and you’ll have opportunities to win that New Orleans-themed gift pack. I look forward to seeing you there.

You can find me at the following places. Stop by, say hello and let’s chat.

Website

Blog

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Excerpt from Brita Addams’ Beloved Unmasked

October 16, 2015

In this hour, I’m giving you a sneak peek into the world of Beloved Unmasked where my character, Pic, lives. This excerpt also introduces you to Spence, a scampy male prostitute.

 

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With each stair, Pic’s curiosity built. Spence often boasted a surprise and gave him a piece of filched cake from the kitchen. But there was the time he had Pic hide behind a curtain while the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen wore Spence out. Pic lost count of how many times Spence howled, “Yeah, Daddy.” Not to mention the nights Pic had spent peeking through the crack in the mahogany armoire.

On those nights Pic’s cock stayed hard until Spence relieved him. Spence often promised that when the time was right, he, in all his magnanimity, would personally oversee the popping of Pic’s cherry, and the promise was all Pic had to show for his patience.

After each of those nights, in the darkened attic, Pic pulled out every drawing he’d ever done of men and beat off three times in an hour. Only then did the fear drain from him at the realization that a wife and kids were not in the cards for him.

Halfway up the stairs, Pic’s instinct to go home nearly turned him around. His gritty eyes demanded sleep. He’d gotten up early and would have to again because he had work to do around the house. Sapphire needed her room cleaned and insisted he do it.

Pic took a step back, but Spence opened the door, his prick in hand. “What in hell takes you so long to climb a flight of stairs? Aren’t you interested in your surprise?”

“Sure I am, but you gotta give a workin’ man a break.”

“You’ll get a big, long break when you’re dead. Get up here.”

Pic trudged up the steps, summoned by the call of cock.

The lingering smell of sex and stale cologne drew him into the massive room Spence called home. Lots of space, and he paid one of the younger girls to polish his furniture every day, which left the room with an underlying aroma of lemon oil.

“Tonight you are in for a treat. I’ve arranged your first time, just like I promised.” Spence bounced with excitement.

Pic gave the room the once-over. “Really?” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Here?”

Spence put a hand on his hip, though the other never left his cock. “Perhaps you’d prefer the parlor downstairs, with witnesses. Yes, here, with only me and the man I personally selected for you.”

“I don’t know, Spence. Maybe it’s too soon.”

“You can’t decide if you wanna get laid or not? What kind of red-blooded American man are you?”

Pic shrugged. “Don’t you remember your first time?”

“Sure I do, and I was a damn sight more eager than you are. Listen, take a drink, and you can ease your mind into the idea that I’m not letting you out of here until you become a full-fledged pansy like me.” Spence ran his long slender fingers down Pic’s face. “I want to set you on the right path. Your partner is a perfect candidate, and he’s eager to help the cause.”

“I’ll take the drink.”

Spence clapped and giggled. “Excellent.”

With an exaggerated sway of the hips, he sashayed to a bootleg liquor–laden table he’d set up near the window.

“I always love coming to your room. So much more comfortable than my cot in the attic.”

“I rather like it myself. I do have a flair for décor, don’t I?”

Spence turned his back, so Pic ambled about. The walls held an overabundance of framed pictures, not just pages from magazines taped to the wallpaper. One was of an older Queen Victoria, adorned in black, her face a mask of sadness. Spence had a thing for England and dreamed of one day visiting Kensington Palace, birthplace and once home of his favorite queen.

The heavy green draperies that hid the bed cost someone a pretty penny, as did the fine lace canopy over Spence’s four-poster.

“There you are, a good vintage, from yesterday. It’ll water your eyes when it hits the bloodstream, but guaranteed, it’ll loosen you up.”

Pic took a sip of the clear drink and wrinkled his nose. “Whoo! That shit is potent.”

“Told ya.” Spence cupped Pic’s crotch. “Speaking of potent. Have I got a treat for you.”

After another sip, Pic put his glass on a nearby table. “What kind of treat? Something better than that shit I hope.”

Spence ran his fingers beneath Pic’s lapel. “You, dear boy, will have your cherry popped by an esteemed attorney.”

Pic raised his hand to ward yet another of Spence’s wild notions. “No.” He leaned in closer. “I’m not baring my ass for some grizzled old fart on his last leg.”

“Au contraire, ma petite pomme de terre.” Spence chuckled and pulled back the heavy drapery. “Does this look like a grizzled old fart to you?”

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Giveaway: Stop by my blog between October 16 and 23 for a series of posts on Storyville. Leave a substantive comment (not “I’m in” or the like,) about the posts and on November 1, I’ll select the winner of a New Orleans-themed gift pack. Beloved Unmasked isn’t included in the giveaway.

 

I’m very excited about the pre-release buzz about Beloved Unmasked

 

Beloved Unmasked is a beautifully written historical romance. You can feel the streets of New Orleans, see the sights, and hear the sounds. (Cathy Brockman – MM Good Book Reviews)

 

When you want a historical you can really sink into and feel like you are there, this is the book to pick up. Really amazingly well done. A Recommended Read (Tina Brunelle – Redz World)

 

Beloved Unmasked has a whole lot packed into the pages. Brita Addams has certainly done her research about New Orleans. (Kazza – On the Top Down Under Reviews)

 

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Dreamspinner has Beloved Unmasked on sale until October 18, at 25% off. Buy now to get the great discount.

 

About the author:

Born in a small town in upstate New York, Brita Addams has made her home in the sultry south for many years. In the Frog Capital of the World, Brita shares her home with her real-life hero—her husband, and a fat cat named Stormee. All their children are grown.

Given her love of history, Brita writes both het and gay historical romance. Many of her historicals have appeared on category bestseller lists at various online retailers.

Tarnished Gold, the first in her gay romance Tarnished series for Dreamspinner Press, was a winner in the 2013 Rainbow Awards, Historical Romance category. The book also received nominations for Best Historical and Best Book of 2013 from the readers of the Goodreads M/M Romance Group.

A bit of trivia—Brita pronounces her name, Bree-ta, and not Brit-a, like the famous water filter.

Find Brita at any of the following places:

Website

Blog 

Facebook 

Twitter 

In the final hour of the Release Party for Beloved Unmasked, I’ll have a “behind the laptop” view of the book and some tidbits of Beloved Unmasked Trivia.

Release Party – Beloved Unmasked by Brita Addams – Storyville Photos

October 16, 2015

Welcome back! I knew you wouldn’t want to miss this post.

A gentleman by the name of John Ernest Bellocq, known during his lifetime as E.J., was a photographer for shipping lines in New Orleans before he took an interest in photographing the many sights in the famed red light district known as Storyville. You can read more about Bellocq on October 2img0020th, as part of my week of Storyville posts on my blog, but here, I’d like to share some photographs taken by Bellocq between 1897 and 1917, the year Storyville closed.

A great many of his subjects posed nude, but I haven’t included any of them. With so little known about Bellocq, we know even less about the women and men he photographed. After Bellocq died in 1949, New Orleans folklore says his brother, a Catholic priest, destroyed or damaged a great many of Bellocq’s glass negatives. One representation of the damage is below in the photo of the woman on the chaise. Leo Bellocq scratched out the faces of many of the women and /or smashed the negative. His motives might seem obvious, but they will forever remain with him, as he never divulged whether he had indeed attempted to destroy is brother’s work.

Do you see something in the faces of his subjects? Remember, though, they had to remain still for several minutes during the picture taking, so what you might see is, “Hurry up and take the damn picture.”

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On the left is a picture of a nurse at the hospital where the Storyville prostitutes were sent when they contracted a venereal disease, commonly called “the gleet”  which ran rampant through the nineteen square blocks of Storyville. It claimed many a life, despite prevention methods.

The other two are unnamed women. The middle photo appears on the cover of Al Rose’s book, Storyville New Orleans.

From Al Rose’s Storyville New Orleans:

a270d92d8669b0f8eb175f237fd2a490The most popular hard liquor in Storyville was Raleigh Rye. Striped stockings were expensive and could be afforded only by the high-priced bawds of Basin Street. Opera length, the hose were sold by traveling salesmen who, with a tricky demonstration, made them seem run-proof. They cost six dollars a pair and lasted one or two washings.

Also from Al Rose’s book re: picture on the right:

A prime attraction at Minnie White’s place at 221 North Basin Street was Marguerite Griffin, who 12cf4a3d037f9fe9f60f32f8ce01c3f2could not only handle the conventional duties of a storyville tart, but also knew the lyrics of countless bawdy ballads. Note on the wall hangings: The pillow above her head reads, “Daisies won’t tell.” The risque signs read, left to right, “Oh! Babe, please come,” “Oh! Dearie, I give U much pleasure” (affixed to a Mardi Gras pennant dated 1910,) and “Dearie, U ask for Marguerite.”

For more photos and more on E.J. Bellocq, visit my blog on October 20. There I’ll have some photos that inspired scenes in the book as well as many others.

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Giveaway: Stop by my blog between October 16 and 23 for a series of posts on Storyville. Leave a substantive comment about the post or the book (not “I’m in” or the like,) and on November 1, I’ll select the winner of a New Orleans-themed gift pack. Beloved Unmasked isn’t included in the giveaway.

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Here’s some of the pre-release buzz about Beloved Unmasked:

Beloved Unmasked is a beautifully written historical romance. You can feel the streets of New Orleans, see the sights, and hear the sounds. (Cathy Brockman – MM Good Book Reviews)

When you want a historical you can really sink into and feel like you are there, this is the book to pick up. Really amazingly well done. A Recommended Read (Tina Brunelle – Redz World)

Beloved Unmasked has a whole lot packed into the pages. Brita Addams has certainly done her research about New Orleans. (Kazza – On the Top Down Under Reviews)

I was delighted that I was asked to review Beloved before release. I really enjoyed the story. Brita is the only historical author who can suck me in early enough that I’ll read the entire book. :) (4 Stars – Brenda Cothern)

Absolutely amazing. (Lorraine Lesar - Threebooksovertherainbow.wordpress.com)

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Dreamspinner has Beloved Unmasked on sale until October 18, at 25% off. Buy now to get the great discount.

Beloved UnmaskedBeloved Unmasked

Cherished One: Book One
A Tarnished novel

Blurb:

Born to a spiteful prostitute in Storyville, the red-light district in New Orleans, David comes into the world as Picayune, meaning “of little value,” or, as his mother reminds him, “nothing.” In the early 20th century brothels and clubs, his love of music sustains young Pic until a life-changing meeting places him on the road to respectability, and Pic reinvents himself as David Reid.

As David realizes happiness for the first time, conscription forces his friend and first love, Spencer Webb, into the Great War. While he pursues a law degree, letters from Spence connect David to his hopes for the future. After staggering news at war’s end, David must find a way to move forward. Under the tutelage of his benefactor, David’s career prospers, but specters from Storyville threaten all he’s worked so hard to achieve.

The past holds both pain and love. Will facing it head-on destroy David or give him everything he’s ever dared dream?

Mens-Black-Leather-2

Next hour – An excerpt from Beloved Unmasked.

Release Party Beloved Unmasked by Brita Addams – Can you speak Yat?

October 16, 2015

Beloved UnmaskedWelcome to my release party for my New Orleans-based historical, Beloved Unmasked. I thought we’d have some fun this hour, and this topic does relate to the book. (Good thing, right?)

There are characters in BU that speak what natives of New Orleans nowadays call Yat. I’ve “citified” it a bit, because in its purest form, one might think they are listening to a foreign language. But it is something to hear and never fails to bring a smile to my face.

As a young woman from an Upstate New York farm town, (replete with her own pronunciation problems) I ended up in New Orleans at the age of 22, due to a Navy transfer for my then-husband. While it wasn’t Italy as we requested, New Orleans became home. We figured a couple of years and then we’d move on, as we had left Iceland for the Deep South.

Many years later, I’m still in the area, sans the sailor, and married for the last 35 years to a certified, bona fide New Orleans native. He is N’Awlins to the bone. Yes, that’s the way natives pronounce it. He doesn’t speak much Yat anymore, because college beat that out of him, but every now and again, his upbringing creeps through. It’s in the blood. He’ll ask the kids “Where y’at?”

I will confess to thinking my mother-in-law was wholly uneducated when I first heard her speak. She was Cajun through and through, as was her mother. The eaves on the house were “the ease.” You don’t boil, you berl. You don’t wash dishes in the sink. No, in N’Awlins, every kitchen has a zink. And of course you don’t fry those scrumptious shrimp in oil, but rather, earl.

Here’s a few head scratchers and some of my all time favorites, courtesy of Gumbo Pages:

AX – ask

BANQUETTE – The sidewalk. Pronounced <BANK-it>.

BERL – To cook by surrounding something in hot, bubbling 212°F liquid; the preferred method for cooking shellfish.

BOBO – A small injury or wound. (this one grated on me because my mother always said boo-boo)

BOO – A term of endearment, frequently used by parents and grandparents for small children, even small children who happen to be 40 years old … Believed to be Cajun in origin.

BRA - A form of address for men, usually one with whom you are not acquainted. Usually used in this manner: “Say, bra …” Ostensibly an abbreviation for “brother.”

BRAKE TAG – An inspection sticker on your car, proof that you’ve passed the required annual safety inspection.

CATLICK – The predominant religion in New Orleans. And, according to some Baptists, all Hell-bound.

CEMENT – A standard English word, but with a special pronunciation. Locals say <SEE-ment>, not <s@-MENT>.

DA – The.

DAT – That.

DAWLIN’ – A universal form of address. Women use it to refer to both sexes, men use it toward women.

DEM – Them.

DERE – There. As in “Dere ya go!”, an expression of encouragement or acknowledgement of having done something for someone else.

DESE, DOSE – These, those.

DIS – This.

DODO, MAKE DODO – Sleep. (pronounced dough-dough)

DRESSED – When ordering a po-boy, “dressed” indicates lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and MYNEZ, on it.

ERNGE, URNGE – An orange-colored citrus fruit.

ERSTERS, ERSTAS – Oysters.

INKPEN – A ball-point pen, or any kind of pen, really. Always heavy emphasis on the first syllable … “Lemme borra ya INKpen, awrite?”

MUFFULETTA - A quintessential New Orleans Italian sandwich, of ham, Genoa salami, mortadella, Provolone cheese and marinated olive salad on a round seeded Italian loaf. Invented at Central Grocery on Decatur in da Quarter. Locals pronounce this <muff-@-LOT-@>, and will tend to just abbreviate it as “muff”. But if you ask a member of the Tusa family (the proprietors of Central), they’ll pronounce it in elegantly proper Italian as <moo-foo-LET-ta>. (You haven’t lived if you’ve never eaten one!)

NUTTINONIT - A po-boy that is not dressed, which only contains the main ingredient(s).

ON DA WES’ BANK, ACROSS DA RIVUH, OVA DA RIVUH – On the West Bank of the Mississippi River, where such places as Algiers, Gretna and Marrero lie. Interestingly, the West Bank is due south of New Orleans (except for Algiers, of course). Make sense? Thought not.

PECAN – A nut indigenous to the South, and beloved in New Orleans as an ingredient in pies and pralines. Pronounced <p@-KAWN>, not <PEE-can>.

PO-BOY – The quintessential New Orleans lunch, a sandwich on good, crispy New Orleans French bread. This definition doesn’t begin to describe what a po-boy is all about, so if you really don’t know you need to get one soon. Take a moment to read a little bit about po-boys.

PRALINE – A sugary Creole candy, invented in New Orleans (not the same as the French culinary/confectionery term “praline” or “praliné”) The classic version is made with sugar, brown sugar, butter, vanilla and pecans, and is a flat sugary pecan-filled disk. Yummmmm. There are also creamy pralines, chocolate pralines, maple pralines, etc. Pecan pralines are the classic, though.

This is one of THE most mispronounced New Orleans terms of all.

 

It is ***N O T*** pronounced <PRAY-leen>.It is pronounced <PRAH-leen>. Got it? Good.

SHOW, DA SHOW – The cinema. The movie house. The local motion picture emporium. Where works of cinematic art (or crappy flicks, depending) are shown. True New Orleanians never say, “I went to the movies”, they say “I went to da show.”

SILVER DIME – A small coin of U.S. currency, worth ten cents. Always pronounced with the emphasis on the first syllable, <SIL-vah dime>, even though they haven’t been made of actual silver for over 35 years.

SUCK DA HEAD, SQUEEZE DA TIP – The technique for eating crawfish. If you’ve never done this, have someone demonstrate.

SUG – A term of endearment used primarily by Yat females. Pronounced <SHOOG> with a soft “oo” as in “book”. (I changed the spelling in the book to shug, so non-natives would know how to pronounce it.)

“THROW ME SOMETHIN, MISTA!” – The traditional (nay, required) request of a Mardi Gras paradegoer to a Mardi Gras parade rider, so that the rider will shower said paradegoer with cheap trinkets like beads, doubloons or cups (actually, the cups are highly coveted, more so than the doubloons are these days, apparently).

TURLET - Ya standard flushable porcelain waste disposal unit found in every bat’troom, referred to by English speakers as a “toilet”.

So there you have a primer in Yat. Fun, huh? Imagine this one here plunked down in the middle a all dat. A shock to my system. But I got used to it and picked up a few.

 

 

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I’m  excited about the pre-release buzz about Beloved Unmasked

Beloved Unmasked is a beautifully written historical romance. You can feel the streets of New Orleans, see the sights, and hear the sounds. (Cathy Brockman – MM Good Book Reviews)

When you want a historical you can really sink into and feel like you are there, this is the book to pick up. Really amazingly well done. A Recommended Read (Tina Brunelle – Redz World)

Beloved Unmasked has a whole lot packed into the pages. Brita Addams has certainly done her research about New Orleans. (Kazza – On the Top Down Under Reviews)

 

Mens-Black-Leather-2

 

Beloved Unmasked

 

Cherished One: Book One

A Tarnished novel

Blurb:

Born to a spiteful prostitute in Storyville, the red-light district in New Orleans, David comes into the world as Picayune, meaning “of little value,” or, as his mother reminds him, “nothing.” In the early 20th century brothels and clubs, his love of music sustains young Pic until a life-changing meeting places him on the road to respectability, and Pic reinvents himself as David Reid.

As David realizes happiness for the first time, conscription forces his friend and first love, Spencer Webb, into the Great War. While he pursues a law degree, letters from Spence connect David to his hopes for the future. After staggering news at war’s end, David must find a way to move forward. Under the tutelage of his benefactor, David’s career prospers, but specters from Storyville threaten all he’s worked so hard to achieve.

The past holds both pain and love. Will facing it head-on destroy David or give him everything he’s ever dared dream?

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So in my best Yat, y’all come back chere, and see what I got in stow fa ya next hour. Hows about some pitchers taken in Storyville? Y’all’d like dat? Show ya would. Pass back in a while.

Meanwhile, pass on by Dreamspinner for a copy of Beloved Unmasked. Dreamspinner has it on sale at 25% off through October 18.

Giveaway: Stop by my blog between October 16 and 23 for a series of posts on Storyville.  Leave a substantive comment (not “I’m in” or the like,) about the posts and on November 1, I’ll select the winner of a New Orleans-themed gift pack. Beloved Unmasked isn’t included in the giveaway.

 

Release Party for Brita Addams’ Beloved Unmasked

October 16, 2015

Beloved UnmaskedI’m Brita Addams, and I’d like to welcome you to the release Party for Beloved Unmasked. I’ll be here from Noon until five o’clock with posts about fun things to do with the book, New Orleans, and Storyville.

Each hour, I’ll give away a backlist book, Beloved Unmasked is not included. Your comments have to be more than “I’m in.” Let’s chat.

Beloved Unmasked has been a long time coming and I’m very excited to get it into readers’ hands. A year ago, I thought this book was going to be something completely different. I’ll tell you about that in my second post.

This is third Tarnished novel and the first in the Cherished One series. Why the new series within the Tarnished world? Well, because first, Beloved Unmasked takes place in New Orleans, where the other two are set in old Hollywood. But more than that, Cherished One will be a series about men who feel unworthy, who have had tough starts to life, had things done to them that leaves them leery of anything that makes them happy.

In Beloved Unmasked, David starts life as Picayune. No real name and no surname. His mother, a Storyville prostitute, is a bitter piece of work, who hates him and shows her disdain in ways that shape who Pic thinks he is, starting with his name. But he has something she doesn’t have, and that’s hope, which makes him vulnerable in a way she isn’t.

I intermingle my characters with real life personalities. Pic’s love of  music is nurtured by Joseph “King” Oliver, a famous New Orleans musician in the early 1900s. King was what people of the day called a professor, a musician who played piano. King, like Jelly Roll Morton and others, plied their trade in the brothels that lined Basin Street. Their job was to entertain the customers, while the ladies softened them up. Everybody won. The girl had the john tip the professor and the john got heaven in return.

While Pic doesn’t play at the brothel he grew up in, he carries his lessons with him. Music provides solace and joy for him. But music isn’t the only thing that keeps Pic going. He has a soft spot for his friend Spence, a male prostitute at Miss Gert’s. We meet Spence as he calls to Pic from his second story window. I can’t begin to tell you what a joy Spence was to write. To this day, my family knows what I mean when I say, “I’m channeling my inner Spence.”

Like many of my characters, Pic evolves over the course of the book. We see him grow, much as Jack Abadie did in Tarnished Gold, and as he grows, he blossoms. A secondary character, Emile Dauterive, a lawyer some years older, takes Pic under his wing, helps him change his name, and from there—well, you’ll have to read Beloved Unmasked to find out.

New Orleans is heartbeat of this book, much as the French Quarter (different than Storyville,) is the heartbeat of New Orleans. I love the city, having lived in the area for many years. There is no other city in the world with the uniqueness New Orleans has. The language, a mixture of English, Cajun French, and what the natives call Yat—as in Where y’at? is an experience not to be forgotten.

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Come back during my release party, and I’ll give you a taste of Yat. LOL

Giveaway: Stop by my blog between October 16 and 23 for a series of posts on Storyville. Leave a substantive comment about the post or the book (not “I’m in” or the like,) and on November 1, I’ll select the winner of a New Orleans-themed gift pack. Beloved Unmasked isn’t included in the giveaway.

Mens-Black-Leather-2

Here’s some of the pre-release buzz about Beloved Unmasked:

Beloved Unmasked is a beautifully written historical romance. You can feel the streets of New Orleans, see the sights, and hear the sounds. (Cathy Brockman – MM Good Book Reviews)

When you want a historical you can really sink into and feel like you are there, this is the book to pick up. Really amazingly well done. A Recommended Read (Tina Brunelle – Redz World)

Beloved Unmasked has a whole lot packed into the pages. Brita Addams has certainly done her research about New Orleans. (Kazza – On the Top Down Under Reviews)

I was delighted that I was asked to review Beloved before release. I really enjoyed the story. Brita is the only historical author who can suck me in early enough that I’ll read the entire book. :) (4 Stars – Brenda Cothern)

Absolutely amazing. (Lorraine Lesar - Threebooksovertherainbow.wordpress.com)

Mens-Black-Leather-2

Dreamspinner has Beloved Unmasked on sale until October 18, at 25% off. Buy now to get the great discount.

Beloved Unmasked

Cherished One: Book One
A Tarnished novel

Blurb:

Born to a spiteful prostitute in Storyville, the red-light district in New Orleans, David comes into the world as Picayune, meaning “of little value,” or, as his mother reminds him, “nothing.” In the early 20th century brothels and clubs, his love of music sustains young Pic until a life-changing meeting places him on the road to respectability, and Pic reinvents himself as David Reid.

As David realizes happiness for the first time, conscription forces his friend and first love, Spencer Webb, into the Great War. While he pursues a law degree, letters from Spence connect David to his hopes for the future. After staggering news at war’s end, David must find a way to move forward. Under the tutelage of his benefactor, David’s career prospers, but specters from Storyville threaten all he’s worked so hard to achieve.

The past holds both pain and love. Will facing it head-on destroy David or give him everything he’s ever dared dream?

Mens-Black-Leather-2

Next hour – What was the original book going to be about? And I’ll give you a taste of Yat.