Genre: Contemporary Romance
Appx. Release Date: March 16, 2016
Ink is indelible.
So is love, at least in theory.
Love shouldn’t just make you happy, it should brand you.
Tori Reid thinks she has her life in order: a great job, her own business in the works, fantastic friends and family, and a boyfriend, Richard, who she thinks is the one (despite the fact he is technically married).
When he invites her on a three-month vacation to his family’s isolated cabin, she assumes it means he finally got a divorce and she is well on her way to everything she ever wanted, including a husband, kids, and a huge yard for her dogs, Sixx and Mars. But when she meets Michael, her expectations for the trip, and her future, quickly change.
Everything about Michael Brande screams quintessential playboy-personal trainer by day and lead singer by night. He seems to be relishing his newly-single status by jumping from bed to bed across the Florida Panhandle.
However, appearances can be deceiving. Reality doesn’t entertain the bored denizens of a one-horse town nearly as much as a tantalizing rumor traveling at the speed of light and changing with the wind. The mandatory six-month trip to Indiana couldn’t have come at a better timneeded to get away-now. Away from his cheating ex-fiancée trying to worm her way back into his life, the increasing tales of his “many exploits,” gym bunny bimbos and groupie wannabes, but mostly from his secret shame and taunting dreams. His life couldn’t possibly get worse.
Both are about to learn that some truths are painful, but sometimes, pain is necessary for salvation.
I’m not that interesting, but the people in my head are. I’ve had fantastical ideas floating around my brain for as long as I can remember, I just finally got brave enough to share them. I was born and raised in the south, if the name Verlene didn’t give that away already. Thanks to the military (myself & spouse), I’ve been all over the US. I now call the west coast home with my husband, my (as of OCT) adult son, my high school daughter, an obnoxiously obese cat, 2 spoiled bunnies, a hyper chocolate lab and a Great Dane puppy that cries like baby when left alone. I like to think of it as living the BAMAFORNIA life.
FUN FACTS: I possess an impressive yet accidental dust bunny collection. I have a serious wine, Bama football & book addiction. My grammar skills are atrocious & no, the irony isn’t lost on me. I’ve made up more words than a certain President. I’ve worked in fast-food, not so fast food, a lab, a print shop, a club dj booth, dental assistant, a muffler shop, an aviator store, the military, quilting, and just about everything in between. Plus, I’ve thrown live grenades & survived the tear gas chamber. (Have to add that because it makes me sound badass.)
GOOGLE PLUS: https://plus.google.com/+VerleneLandon/
An earlier scene from League of Eternals 1. (Wrote a few years back.)
UNEDITED (I can’t stress that enough – NOT FINAL DRAFT/EDIT) and likely to change another 10 times before publishing and when the editor gets a hold of it.
Running is special to Mac. It isn’t just exercise or competition, it’s peace and therapy. An old friend that’s always there for her no matter the mood or problem. The way most people feel about yoga or meditation, Mac feels about running.
She could sense Peyton running by her side but wasn’t aware of her there on a conscious level. All Mac could feel was the beat of Queen in her head and the connection of her shoe to the pavement. It was dark and she had no idea where exactly they were, but she knew she could get back, almost by magic. Never mapping her runs, she let the route unfold by instinct as she went, and when her organic GPS told her to turn, she would turn and run back to where she started.
Since her parent’s divorce, running took on a new layer of comfort. At 13, she thought if she could run fast enough, hard enough, far enough, she could escape the pain, and she was right. Just not in the way her adolescent brain thought. Running saved her again at 17, this time from a violent assault. Now, running had earned her a degree and coveted slots in the best runs all over the country. Not to mention an excellent job in R & D for a major athletic shoe manufacturer, doing what she loves for a living: running. She freaking got paid to run every day, life was pretty sweet right now. Exactly where she wanted to be and lacking nothing.
Mac’s internal odometer was telling her they’d run about 5 miles and it was about time to reverse course, head back toward the Rio. Queen was fading into Y&T creating a low lull in her ear buds. Turning to signal Peyton to head back, Mac caught a muffled sound and some movement in her periphery. Looking around, she realized they had run into a seedy looking back alley in a not so savory part of Vegas. Peyton reversed course before Mac could let her know something wasn’t right and it was time for some unscheduled max interval training, when two colossal men rushed them.
Peyton couldn’t hear Mac yelling the warning, they always ran with maxed out iPods. It was like they were moving in slow motion compared to the dark headed bastard that was powering toward her, he seemed to be doing double time. Dropping his shoulder like a linebacker, he made contact with Mac’s stomach. They hit the ground so hard the air was propelled from her lungs. Her teeth clashed together violently and she was positive some cracked. The force of the impact popped her ear buds out and she could hear the tinny strains of her running mix float off into the night. Oxygen refused to enter her body, no matter how hard she tried to force it. Attempting to snorkel through a coffee stirrer would have been easier.
Mac could hear the other guy as he took Pey to the ground. Then a sickening sound she would never forget assaulted her ears. The almost wet sounding thud the asshole’s, big meaty fist made as it connected with Peyton’s jaw, she would never forget it as long as she lived, which might not be long at this point. Wrenching her head around, she could see Pey’s lip bleeding, but she was out for the count, while the dirt ball was…sniffing her? Mac started flailing about as much as the body on top of her allowed anyway. Kicking and punching, even though she couldn’t breathe, she had to help her best friend.
The asshole holding Pey down twisted his head toward the enormous bastard that was crushing the life out of her, “Greg, we might have a twofer. I can’t tell for sure, but she has the scent, it’s just very muted and twisted somehow. Could be wrong, but even if I am, she’s still got a gash. We can ride her lovely thighs, then slice her throat when we get board. I say we bring ’em both back to Bruce and sort it out there.” He started to stand and tossed Peyton over his shoulder like she weighed next to nothing. “You get a handle on that bitch and I’ll see you back at the warehouse.” The last visual Mac had of her friend was of the asshole trotting off with Peyton’s ponytail spilling down his ass while her head bobbed and bounced off his back.
Physical Inspirations (add a few years though) for Mac & Pey.
Pictures were borrowed from site listed below them even though they may have originated elsewhere.
Mackenzie (Mac) Lynn Bryant
Scarlett Peyton (Pey) Chandler
Go on, clear the room and say it out loud. I’ll wait.
Now this time, don’t just say it, chew on it a bit. Good. Try lowering your register and maybe add a little husky breathlessness to it.
Yep, just like that.
Delicious isn’t it? It feels good to say and to hear.
Two words, and I wrote 70K+ words around it.
Ok, wait. That’s misleading. Not ‘around’ it per say, but it is the phrase that popped into my head and wouldn’t leave. It kept echoing through my mind, over and over and after saying it out loud more times than I counted, the voice that finally whispered it in my head wasn’t my own, but that of a smoking hot 200 year old pirate with a sex on a stick voice like that of Drogo.
That’s when Grant introduced himself to me, told me his story, and League of Eternals was born. If I’m lucky, I’ll have it published by summer.
I understand a lot of writers use outlines and have the story pretty much played out on index cards, but not me. I even tried it once and it just didn’t work out. What I wrote was shit because it felt forced to follow that guide. Like writing a poem and forsaking the poetry for the rhyme. (I totally do that.) I build my stories out of one scene and sometimes one sentence or phrase that just comes to me. As soon as I give it some thought, meditate on it a bit, the character(s) make themselves known and start telling me their tales. I know where the story starts, key points and where it ends, but it develops the details as I translate what the characters have to say to book structured words. Fluid. Nothing is set in stone except the foundation and frame. The bones of the story are theirs but they give me carte blanche to flesh it out my way. As long as they are happy with the outcome, they just change the cosmetics and not take a wrecking ball to the whole damn thing.
Currently I am working on a story built around my h sitting in a small boat and licking the tattoo on the back of the H’s neck, and the follow up story to that built around a YouTube beach baby announcement video. (Not a happy occasion for the h of that story.)
So yeah, that’s how my faulty mind works. It’s never been something I’ve embraced before, but when I finally did, I saw the path to my dream of becoming a published writer open up just a little.
No fucking way was she going to wear any man’s clothes but his. Although naked is always the best option. If he wasn’t sure about Carter’s bloody dismemberment before, he damn sure was now. How many times would he have to have her to rid her of Carter’s scent? Taking her. That thought started to consume him. Her body, naked. Sweaty. Tangled in fuck rumpled sheets and all his. Shaking his head to dislodge those images before he tossed her over his shoulder and made them a reality, he looked to her, knowing that his Egy would ground him. A genuine soul mate was the only thing that could bring a warrior down from battle lust and keep him centered. It was part of the magic that made a Legacy and by default, The League stronger.
I know, you’re shocked, right?
Yeah, me neither. It’s painfully obvious that blogging is not my thing, but creating is. Hopefully, creating good books that people will want to read will be too.
Finally, after a healthy measure of procrastinating and a whole lot of getting sidetrack……hey, look, Facebook.
Where was I?
Oh, right, getting sidetracked, I’ve finished League of Eternals 1. Getting some amateur edits right now, then off to a professional. Because, let’s be honest, I have characters telling me their amazing tales and I can write those down, but when it comes to the basic rules of my first and only language, I am severely lacking.
So, as soon as it’s is polished and worth sharing, I will publish. Since I will be self publishing while possibly shopping for a traditional publishing house, I need to learn the finer points of social media.
(Ah, now, the blogging makes sense.)
I will try my best to post updates more often than a blue moon, but as long as there are books to read, wine to drink, memes to share and funny animal pictures on the Internet, I promise nothing.
(1 duplicate to tumblr-testing)