Category Archives: Teaser

Samples from Salain’s Case Journals

17 Friday Feb 2017

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Whatever the reason, I thirsted like a walking corpse staggering aimlessly about the dunes. I couldn’t say no when someone guided me to a spring, not even if the squished remains of scorpion tails littered the floor, their venom a cloud thick enough to see.

Samples from Salain’s Case Journals

37-2 y. 4206

Hafarra Retoro & Leo Retoro – Double homicide today. Thought it was going to be a fun one. Ha.

First body was a young woman. She’d been shot once through the heart. One of the cleanest deaths I’ve dealt with so far, though the bullet lodged in the back of her ribcage. Hemorrhaging on her back with lividity and rigor consistent where she’d fallen. No surprises.

Second body was found in the next room. Middle-aged man with seven bullet wounds to his face, torso and arm. Four went through, but I dug out a bullet from his jaw and another two from his chest. He also had multiple stab wounds to his face and neck consistent with a small eating knife found at the scene. A lot of force—the detectives said fury—went into those blows. Victim tried to fight even after being shot, as evidenced by the torn and bloody clothing clutched in his fists and the intriguing amount of skin lodged under his nails.

Plenty of witnesses, plenty of evidence. Detectives didn’t have to detect much to crack this one. Boring case. So, so boring.

09-3 y. 4206

Mona Toreono – Today gave me a truly interesting homicide. Woman had been a singer for a lot of local places. Worked within a small group that call themselves the Musician’s Guild though they don’t quite have enough influence to enforce decent wages, or so I’ve been informed.

She was found spread out on a small outdoor stage in the courtyard of a local lounge. She’d been gagged and tied and raped multiple times. No witnesses because the lounge had been shut down for the night and nobody heard a thing because a light sandstorm had been screaming its way through the streets. Continue reading →

First Victim Falls

16 Thursday Feb 2017

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Murder in Color’s main antagonist is a serial killer who has committed a number of murders before the book even opens. This is a bit of a short story/scene about the discovery of the very first victim told from the perspective of a non-character. It doesn’t give a single thing away, so no worries :)

Murder in Color is a gay romance/fantasy/mystery novel (~100k words) coming out Feb 21st, 2017.

“Whispers I couldn’t make out murmured off his lips, like not-quite-silent prayers to the desert rose. Or to me.”

First Victim Falls

Copyright © Emmi Lawrence

That blazing graffiti seemed to mock Mikail as he hurried up to the back door of his restaurant. The black stood in heavy contrast to the beige of the stone walls, the interconnected marks only taking up the width of a woman’s arm and about the same length, yet they somehow drew the eye. Like a stain would.

Mikail licked a finger and rubbed at the edge of the paint, but it stubbornly resisted his feeble attempt to remove it. With a muttered, “I thought I told the closers to take care of this mess,” he pulled free his key and unlocked the back door.

Inside, the kitchen was dark, every window covered tightly. Shadows bounced as Mikail let the door swing as he moved to turn the closest lightstones over in their pocket. Last night’s food trough had been cleaned out to feed local goats and dry rags remained hung above an empty sink. Mikail gave the area a cursory once over to be sure it’d been cleaned properly, then stepped around the partition and into the open kitchen that still smelled heavily of cooked peppers and spice rub.

There he paused when he saw a man sprawled across the floor, the man’s face obscured by his own waterskin. Mikail sighed. “Chava, I told you, you can’t crash here.” Mikail nudged Chava with his foot, then stepped over the man’s extended legs. “I don’t care what’s going on this time, my kitchen isn’t the place…to…”

Mikail slowly crouched by Chava’s lax face and lifted the edge of the waterskin carefully. Shadows couldn’t hide the darkening of Chava’s skin or the bloodshot eyes staring blankly at the lower cabinets. Mikail swallowed hot bile and fumbled away, dropping the edge of the waterskin. The skin slipped off Chava’s face and dragged through his hair. There it sat rocking slightly on its fat bottom, its cord shuddering at the motion and drawing Mikail’s gaze to the grip it held across Chava’s throat. Continue reading →

A Short History of Topoyi

15 Wednesday Feb 2017

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This is a sneak peek for my newest novel, Murder in Color, coming out Feb. 21st. It features paint and murder and sexy men! Genres: fantasy mystery/gay romance.

“Out there, I could smell something other than topoyi paint and feel the grit pelting against my body, reminding me I lived in the real world, that I wasn’t as dead as the corpses I cut open on a regular basis.”

A Short History of Topoyi

Discovery

Topoyi plants were first discovered in the northern wastelands of the Sconda Desert. As of today, only four breeds of the plant are thought to exist.

The largest, the Great Topoyi, is unstudied, but is believed to be indigenous to the land at the base of the north reaches, an area dubbed DaRellino or the Sand that Swallows, by the original nomadic tribes of the Sconda. Oral history states the tribes would give the area a wide berth out of fear from stories told of people disappearing. For many centuries, the legend of the swallowing sand persisted, but was believed to be referring to sinking sand or quicksand pits that might have existed in that territory.

The expedition of Morollini Nattali—dates unknown—is supposed to have discovered the truth in the matter—that the “sand that swallowed” referred to the persistent growth of the Great Topoyi and not sinking sand at all. Unfortunately, there are no texts documenting this expedition and it is entirely possible Morollini Nattali never existed since descendents of the nomadic tribes have differing accounts of the supposed expedition. A few stated that the man was a creation of some storyteller while others believed he perished during his own expedition, leaving only a few survivors to escape south once more across the dunes. Continue reading →

Salain’s Character Interview

14 Tuesday Feb 2017

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          “I’d sunk within his embrace, desperate to take what I’d been aching after, with little regard for tomorrow’s consequences.”

Salain’s Character Interview

He hung back, his eyes narrowed as he glanced around my office. Suspicion sat etched into his very being, his thin frame rife with it. Yet his hands remained steady, carefully placed against his knees as he took a seat on the bench. So he was skeptical, but not nervous.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” I started.

“Is this going to take long?” he asked. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Not long. I’ve only a few questions.” And since he seemed ready to leave if I didn’t get on with it, I quickly continued, “So, what is your name?”

“Don’t you have it already?” he nodded toward my notes. “You’re the one who asked me here.”

“Yes, I just…”

He sighed. “It’s all right,” he said in a tone that said it wasn’t exactly all that right. “I’m used to having to repeat myself. Salain Dusari. I’m a medical examiner at Wasterli Station. Do a lot of lab work as well. Wouldn’t trust most of the officers to know what they’re doing.”

“And do you like your job?”

His lips twisted before he gave me a wry grin. “Did the chief ask you to ask that? Tell him that I do. I love my job. No, use the word passionate. I’m passionate about my job.” Continue reading →

Zombified Past

30 Monday Nov 2015

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A while ago I read a story done in the form of a test. Don’t remember the story at all, but I thought the idea was really neat, though obviously only for something quite short.

So for my very last A-Z Challenge post, I decided to give the idea a shot. So here is Zombified Past – a test taken by De’vii about his survival upon the Braken during the battle that erupted between wild and civilized houndmasters during the last Games. Have fun guessing what young De’vii did that day :)

ZOMBIFIED PAST : A TEST

QUESTIONS:

1. When the fight during the last Lo’fel Games began you…

a) joined your dam’s side since you’d grown up with wild blood dominating your veins.
b) tried to convince your sire to back down.
c) hid like a coward with one of your dam’s pups.
d) weren’t sure which side to join, so in confusion you snarled at anyone who came close.

2. The moment you realized something, other than houndmasters and dogs, was on that battleground you…

a) ran to your dam like the pup you were and tried to tell her.
b) searched for your sire, terrified because he wouldn’t respond to your shouts.
c) went to where the game officials were trying to evacuate the pup grounds to join your friends.
d) remained hidden, too scared to do anything but stare as the murky cloud rose, jerking the dead back to life. Continue reading →

Yesterday’s Nightmares

29 Sunday Nov 2015

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Here’s a teaser that actually has nothing to do with houndmasters or wilds at all. Imagine that; there is another main character in the duology :)

These are a couple of journal entries from when Caliebb is in his low teens, shortly after he befriends Epsie.

YESTERDAY’S NIGHTMARES

Day One

Epsie says her therapist asked her to keep a journal after she was first rescued and was still recovering in medical. She claims that it helped her from going insane from boredom. That’s what she says, but I suspect she did it more because she couldn’t stand being by herself, too scared she’d close her eyes and wake up back where she started. That’s just an assumption on my part though. Who knows?

That’s really just a long-winded way of saying that she convinced me to give this thing a try. I told her I don’t really remember what I dream about, but I don’t think she believed me given she rolled her eyes and promised not to read it.

But I wasn’t lying. I have a lot of trouble remembering specifics. They’re dreams. They feel real when I’m there, but by the time I’m awake, they’ve become these indistinct muddled flashes with accompanying emotions that make little sense.

They are getting worse though. That’s something I’ve noticed.

Day Two

Woke twice last night.

The first time I only remember feeling as I were drowning. Woke up coughing.

This time I had been walking along the wharf, but the water looked strange. Calmer than the ocean. And bluer. But then the wood gave out under my feet, the planks splitting and sending me into the water. It only seemed to come up to my ankles, but something in the sand gripped me and wouldn’t let me move. The next thing I remember I was running underneath the wharf, with something chasing me. I kept looking back, but never saw anything, though I could hear whatever it was shrieking at me.

That’s it. Not sure writing this down is going to help. Continue reading →

An X-rated Conversation

27 Friday Nov 2015

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I started writing this blog for the escapism. At that point, I’d write shot erotic pieces, always always with some sort of fantastical element because I just can’t write otherwise. One of the things I quickly stumbled across was how boring tab A/slot B could become, both in reading and writing. And when writing becomes boring you’re less likely to want to do it. So here are a few ideas I use for how to keep the excitement in my sex scenes.

1. Change setting

This one’s easy and, as such, is commonly used. People generally engage in a bed, but there are also kitchen tables, couches, closets, on top of dryers and even public settings—whether actually done where people are watching or simply in a place where someone might catch the couple. Don’t rely on this too much simply because club sex and bending someone over the kitchen table is a bit commonplace in fiction now.

2. Change positions/roles/type of sex

Again, another easy and commonly used idea. This can range from hand jobs/bjs/anal/vaginal to missionary/doggy/kamasutra extraordinaire you name it.

3. Have something important, other than sex, occur in the scene

This is one that gets forgotten by a lot of people. Instead of making the scene a continuation of the story as a whole, the story will read as if you’ve pushed the pause button during the plot, dropped in a sex scene and then picked the story back up afterward. Everyone’s guilty of it at some point or another. The trick is to recognize it and make sure to have something other than orgasms as the focal point of the next sex scene. Which leads me to… Continue reading →

Urban Hunt

26 Thursday Nov 2015

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Haunt of The Wilds eBook CoverSo I switched W in for U on Tuesday, so here’s U, as promised. Seems silly that now the alphabet isn’t in order for this challenge. Only three more to go though. Getting close!

Urban Hunt is a short story about the first day De’vii goes to the city of Crafton. The day he meets Mi’saa. They are both probably around twenty years old in this story. Give or take a year or two for each of them.

URBAN HUNT

Stone architecture, most of it blackened with age and mildew, replaced the trees and grasses over time. The hills remained, with buildings squished into place on the sloping angles, closer and closer together the farther De’vii strode into the city. The sky above them never truly changed, sitting heavy with stars and the moon a crescent to the east, but as the lights of the city claimed the darkness as their own, the stars seemed to fade.

Crafton, they said, was the best place to get a job. Crafton, they said, was a hub of houndmaster activity. Crafton…a place devoid of everything De’vii considered familiar.

De’vii stopped in the middle of the active street, feeling jostled despite no one daring to touch him or his pack. Beside him, Sou growled in the back of his throat, feeling threatened and overwhelmed, his gaze drifting upward where the windows and rooftops seemed to stare down at them like watchful hunters waiting to strike.

Fel didn’t like the place either. None of the pack did. They all told De’vii so. Loudly and vividly, sending flashes of the vines of Ay’ril Woods and the lush forests of the wilds.

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a hint of exasperation. But he sure as hell planes wasn’t planning on turning tail and running home. And when he put it that way, neither were any of his pack. Continue reading →

Virdaemn Maps

25 Wednesday Nov 2015

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Haunt of The Wilds eBook CoverMore unartistic maps!

These maps are primarily of the one country Haunt of the Wilds takes place within. The name Virdaemn refers to the entire plane/world as a whole so it’s a little misleading. The country itself is called Nabia.

This first map is the one I used while writing the story. As you can see, it’s all kinds of messed up. My “pass” into the Empire above the country goes straight into the water, I misspelled Neit Valley and I’m sort of falling off the left side of the page because I didn’t realize I needed more space.

I do that often, actually, since my artistic ability is nil so I tend to guess horribly wrong when visualizing spacing. You should see when I write people’s names on their birthday cards–like a little kid would do, the last couple of letters tend to get squished in. Continue reading →

Widow’s Prey

24 Tuesday Nov 2015

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Having difficulties with U, so I’m giving you W instead. They sound close enough I figured I could swap them.

I have a humanoid race in Haunt of the Wilds called black widows. They’re not actually spiders…that’d be a little too weird for me to want to write about. But they are people who essentially feed off their sexual partners, simply in a magical way rather than a gory, disgusting way.

This little vignette was supposed to talk about how black widows do their thing, but it never ended up getting too detailed, which is probably a good thing. So it’s mostly an introduction of what they are and how they’re received by most other people.

WIDOW’S PREY

“They’re everywhere, you know? A lot of folks are getting wise to their ways, but even those who know to be careful could fall into a trap. ’Cause them black widows, they’ll do everything in their power to pretend to be something they ain’t.

“My daughter—”

The man choked on his own words, looking for just a moment as if he would start sobbing. Then he swallowed the emotion with a grunt and sudden fury sparked to life in his eyes, echoing next within his voice.

“Those widows, they pretend they’re human, pretend they’re anything. All smooth talking and smiles as if they weren’t the despicable people they are. How do they live with what they do? Huh. There I go assuming they care about something other than themselves.”

“Your daughter,” I prompted tentatively. Continue reading →