Author: catstark

From Protector of the Grey House:

Mierka greeted her in the garage. “Hello.”

“For some reason, I almost expected Joseph.” She gave Mierka a weary smile as she closed the car door.

“Am I a good stand in?” There was a smirk on the woman’s face.

Natalia laughed nervously as she rounded the car. “Yes, but he was keeping me up to date during all this.”

“I was taking care of Vincent. As he is not here yet, I choose to be where you are.”

“Thank you.” She stood next to Mierka now. “When will he be back?”

“Couple more hours. Did you find an answer to Joseph’s question?”

“No, but this is home.”

Mierka nodded and pointed the way to the stairs. “You still sound off.”

“I left here to find a safe place to sleep. Though I did sleep, it was fitful.”

They were in front of the door to the stairs. Mierka placed her hand on Natalia’s arm. “Are you sure you should be here? You’ll need your wits about you with Vincent.”

Natalia looked down as she folded her arms close. She rubbed her upper arms as if nervous. “This entire situation has me feeling out of sorts. Why did I go into that room, Mierka? Why did I look for it? I was always told I couldn’t be possessed, but Vincent was able to control me, as was that ring.”

“You feel as if your entire existence hangs by a thread?”

Natalia nodded.

“I’ve felt that way many times in my life, until I was turned. After I was turned, I threw all my doubt away and did as I pleased.”

Natalia laughed. “Of course, you did.”

From Protector of the Grey House:

“Flashes. I called Joseph a miserable Hellspawn.” She rolled her eyes. “Which I’m sure feeds into your thoughts that I’m here to kill you all.”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“To what end? And if I wanted everyone dead, don’t you think I would have tried that by now?”

He opened his mouth to argue, but stopped and thought about her statement.  After a moment, he placed the glass on the desk in front of him, stood, and started to pace.

“You never thought of that did you?” Her voice was decidedly smug.

He glared at her, but then let his emotions go and shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

Natalia shook her head. “Good. Now that you have more to think about, perhaps you’ll change your mind about me.”

“That remains to be seen. What else do you remember?”

From Protector of the Grey House:

Edwin yelled the three short lines of Latin he knew and watched as two pillars of smoke formed into hideous beasts in front of him. Christopher taught him the lines when he had placed him in charge, and told  the younger vampire never to utter the words unless absolutely necessary. The demons the words called forth were unpredictable at best and would only perform one task for their temporary master before running off.

Edwin stared at the horrors that stood before him, pointed to one then to Vincent. “Kill him.” He pointed at the second then at Natalia. “Kill her.”

The first demon bellowed and advanced on Vincent, who watched in terror as the other went for his woman. He had never seen these demons before and had no idea how to banish them. They were taller than he by a head and twice as wide. They were formed by broken pieces of mirror, glass, razor blades and what looked to be hypodermic needles. Their hands were broken glass, with long bits acting as claws. Their mouths resembled sharks’ mouths, with row after row of needles. Their eyes looked like bent spoons. Vincent could see no flesh. The thing before him bellowed and he backed off to assess the situation. Joseph stood by his side, handed him a short sword, and brandished an identical one.

From Protector of the Grey House:

It took nearly six months for Vincent to convince her to use the sword this evening. She wanted to hide the sword to keep House LeGris safe, but Vincent knew it was the quickest way to kill off Edwin’s men. She relented, as she knew he was right. A large part of her couldn’t wait to use the sword. Edwin’s men didn’t know what was coming.

Next to her, Rebecca took slow deep breaths. She laid a hand on Natalia’s knee, to calm her. All were silent; all were tense. They could smell the battle adrenaline. The wolves wanted to be out of the car. Vincent wanted the element of surprise, which meant the wolves and Natalia had to stay put until they received the text. The other werewolves meditated, breathed deeply, and tried not to think about the fight, in order to stay calm. It wouldn’t do to start a fight in the car. By contrast to Natalia’s dress, the wolves were in older jeans and t-shirts. Their clothing would be ripped once they changed.

From Protector of the Grey House:

“Have you heard the voices yet? Or are they letting you have your own mind?” Her voice sounded motherly, and Ashley started to shake. Natalia stepped forward; her actions unclear even to herself. Charlie’s hand was suddenly on her arm, tentative and cautious, and stopped her advance.

Pain gripped Ashley’s features as Father Sulta clamped his hand on her shoulder. “Take her out of here or we kill her.”

Cold hate surrounded Natalia’s body. Though Father Sulta sounded as if he spoke to Charlie, his gaze remained locked with Natalia’s until his last word. Then, his face had turned toward Ashley. Natalia didn’t think Sulta had meant they would kill her. She had the distinct impression he meant he’d kill Ashley. Natalia made up her mind. She turned and left, hoping that one day she would be able to free Ashley from the Slayer’s hold. Ashley should be free to pursue her own life and beliefs, without the undue influence of those like Father Sulta.

From Protector of the Grey House:

Vincent looked about the room and understood that the plan was being executed tonight. It was earlier than he and his Lieutenants had anticipated, but that was fine by him. There were about twenty people gathered in the meeting room. He recognized four of his Lieutenants, three who leaned against a wall, each with one of their own Sergeants. The rest of the group, new vampires by their attitudes and look, were gathered at his throne, which Morgan sat on. There was a reason it was the only piece of furniture in the room, and it wasn’t for guests to enjoy. A low growl escaped Vincent’s throat.

He bought the throne long ago in China. The armrests were dragons, the right open mouthed, the left closed. The feet were claws and the cushions were red silk. It had a high back and was made of oak. It cost him a lot of money, but it had been worth it. He enjoyed sitting in the throne so much that he had his people move it back and forth between the training room and his larger meeting room, depending on where it was needed most. Joseph and Owen moved it into the meeting room days ago. It was his throne; no one was allowed to use it.

And now Morgan was defiling it.

There is so much I want to say about my writing, about not getting the trilogy out in a timely basis and about what my next steps as an author could be. I’m at an impasse. There are two paths (with my books) that I can see and I don’t know which to take. (And no, not writing and not publishing are not on the table.)

From Protector of the Grey House:

“It has to be.” She sighed with pleasure as she melted against him. She had a raging headache, and her stomach was upset. She felt as if her brain had been fried. It was hard to keep control of Anthony; even harder to look as if everything were fine. She had failed, as he saw her pain, but it didn’t matter. The situation was taken care of. Other than releasing him completely, she could do nothing more to change his mind. He would have to decide whether or not he wanted to trust her on his own. She moaned as Vincent applied more pressure to her aching shoulders.

Vincent nibbled on her neck. He wanted to take her blood, but knew he shouldn’t. She felt good in his arms, felt like she belonged. He turned her head to his, kissed her, and gave her a long, deep kiss. One hand massaged her neck, the other massaged her thigh. Though they were expected in the training room, he nevertheless continued his slow seduction, and wondered if she were up for a quickie. Except they almost never did anything quickly. Even if they started quick, want would take over and they would continue long past satisfaction. He pulled away from her, and growled low.

From Protector of the Grey House:

“The first man I slept with used me in every way he could. He thought I was younger than I was and kept me until he tired of me. I allowed it to happen as I had nowhere else to go. The first woman…” Mierka turned her head away and sighed. “I think Cara loved me.”

Natalia leaned back on the couch and took Mierka’s hand. “Was she your sire?”

Mierka shook her head. “No, I was hers. She died to Slayers three years later.”

Pain crossed Natalia’s features. She reached out to Mierka and placed her hand on her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“Life is not easy for those of us who live a long time. My life is full of stories of loss.”

Natalia stared the woman down. “As is mine, and I’ve lived a lot less years. Life is pain.” The last sentence was almost a whisper. She looked Mierka in the eye as she said the next words. “But there is love in that pain, and beauty. That’s what makes us hold on.”

Mierka sighed. “You are correct.”

From Protector of the Grey House:

Vincent’s features hardened, but he ignored the comment. “What do you want?”

“Many things. But this time, a chance to clear part of my debt.”

“You drive away the cargo and I erase part of your debt?” He set down his wine glass on the large table behind him.

Torin gave a slight bow with his head. “If you agree.”

“Two were going to drive the cargo. Now, I’ll send you and one other.”

“Who?”

“Owen.”

“You will tell me when?”

“It’ll be obvious.” Vincent crossed his arms, to show he wanted Torin to leave. “Was there anything else?”

  Torin paused, leaned against the hors d’oeuvres table and gave Vincent a wide grin. “I was also wondering when your lovely lady would arrive for the festivities?”

From Protector of the Grey House:

Vincent turned angrily away, walked three steps, and stopped. “Why haven’t we heard anything yet?”

“Anthony called Julia a little over three hours ago. It would take about an hour to round their humans up and arm them. On a good day, it takes an hour and a half to travel from their house to yours. It’s Saturday, which means traffic will be disastrous. It will take two to two and a half hours for the troops to get to your estate. Which means,” he looked at his watch, “that she has not yet arrived. Julia is trustworthy and efficient. She will call as soon as she has word.”

Vincent stared silently at the far wall. Joseph noticed when he relaxed, as his shoulders lowered minutely. “Send Anthony in here.”

“No.”

Vincent turned and glared at his friend.