The Miscellaneous Stuff Authors Sometimes Write...
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I came across a couple of fun tales tied to my Dream Catchers series that I'd actually forgotten I'd even written, and I thought you might enjoy them. If you haven't read DREAM CATCHERS, it's an erotic science fiction series complete with a novella called Dream Catcher that was originally released in the NightShift anthology, and two novels that are tightly connected enough they could have been a single book: Dream Bound followed by Dream Unchained. I've just recently gotten the rights back to the series and the novella and novels will be available for sale as soon as I get them ready to release again. For now, though, I'll leave these two shorts up just as a tease...
And this good looking guy on the left is Jesse Pavelka, a fitness expert and television host. He's also a dead ringer for MacArthur Dugan, my hero in Dream Catchers.
I saw his picture before I'd written a word of the series, and I knew he was Mac, but the picture, the visual, is only the beginning.
Readers often ask me where I get my ideas, how I get to know my heroes, that sort of thing. I wrote this a few years ago when the first story in the series, Dream Catcher, was coming out. I already "knew" Mac, but this little interlude is sort of where my head goes when I want to know more of the details--the way the guy thinks, if he's got a sense of humor, that sort of thing. Sometimes I have to work at it, really dig to get the guy talking. In Mac's case, it wasn't hard at all to get to know him. Give that man a glass of Jack and he turns into a natural born story teller.
I tend to totally immerse myself in an ongoing series, which can be nerve-wracking when I’m getting to know an entirely new set of characters. I mean, let’s face it—I wrote this series for Kensington’s Aphrodisia line, which means no boundaries, no limits, and a lot of very hot sex. It’s one thing after you’ve been writing a series for a while--I knew my characters from Wolf Tales inside and out after so many years living with them--and another altogether when you’re just starting out and digging into the truly intimate, “up close and personal” details on guys you barely know.
I'll be honest, I’m not the kind of girl who just leaps into bed with every sexy hero who shows up on my screen. I have to get to know them a bit better for that, so I like to sit down with my new lead man and ask him about himself—which is what I did with MacArthur Dugan. Mac's sort of my Anton Cheval of the series, (for those of you familiar with Wolf Tales) the one man strong enough to anchor the whole story for the rest of the characters who come along.
So, I’m going to turn this over to Mac, who was trying to explain his relationship with Zianne when they were still young, back at the dawn of the computer age in what would become Silicon Valley. Zianne's an absolutely beautiful woman—in her human form. Except she’s not human. Zianne is an alien—a Nyrian, a creature whose natural form is pure energy, a rather stunning column of blue light.
~~*~~
“So,” Mac says, leaning back in his chair and sipping from something way bigger than a shot glass filled to the brim with Jack Daniels, "You want to know more about me and Zianne, and Dink, huh? Well, it's not easy to explain, but this might give you an idea what it was like when Zianne first came to Earth, first wanted to talk me into helping her people. First, she wanted to know what humans were like. It’s 1992, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and Zianne’s reading the local newspaper and she sees all these ads. Tons of ads for Black Friday specials the day after Thanksgiving, and of course she wonders what the hell Black Friday is. I was still trying to explain Thanksgiving, which wasn’t easy because her sympathies are all with the bird. Anyway, I tried to describe it, but there’s no way to explain to someone from another planet the chaos of everyone trying to get in on the big sales that officially launch the Christmas shopping season.
“Zianne says, ‘Mac. I want to go. You need to take me to one of these sales. It’s a good way to learn about human behavior.’
"‘Yeah, right,’ I’m thinking. Human behavior at its worst. So I call Dink—he’s my best buddy and he and Zianne and I sort of have a thing going—a threesome, if you want the truth, though Zianne prefers the term ‘ménage.’ Says it sounds sexier. Like we need sexier? Dink says he's game, so we plan to take the plunge.”
Grinning about whatever he’s thinking, Mac takes another sip of the Jack. I looked at my watch. It was pretty early in the day for hard liquor, but you know how it goes—it’s got to be cocktail hour somewhere.
Mac shoots me that sexy grin and I know he's there, living in the memory when he says, "I decide the mall’s out. Too big, too overwhelming, too many chances for trouble. There’s a Kmart not far from my apartment and it’s supposed to open at six in the morning, so on Black Friday, still stuffed from too much food and drink on Turkey Day, Dink and Zianne and I crawl out of bed—and yeah, it was the same bed, okay?—get dressed and head for Kmart before the sun’s even thinking about coming up.
“Dink was not happy. He’s definitely not a morning person, but Zianne was all decked out in human form with a snappy outfit and ready to go before we’d even finished our coffee. Next thing I know, we’re jammed into the middle of a crush of anxious folks ready to start their Christmas shopping, and I’m looking over Zianne’s head at Dink, who’s looking a little green around the gills. Neither one of us likes crowds—I'm a computer geek and Dink’s a newbie newscaster for a station in the Bay Area—and Zianne’s never been in a situation like this in her life, only I didn’t realize just how nervous all the jostling was making her.
“Now remember, this was in 1992. Kmart used to have these things called Blue Light Specials, but they’d ended them the year before. I think they’re doing them again—not sure—but not in 1992. And Zianne’s a Nyrian...remember the tower of blue energy? Yep...you’re laughing. You can see where this is going, right?”
At this point, Mac chuckled softly, staring into his almost empty glass. I was really wishing I could read his mind about now, but his shields were up and his thoughts blocked.
“So, this skinny little pimply-faced clerk comes to the door with the keys and unlocks it. He doesn’t even have time to get out of the way before the crowd surges through and Dink, Zianne and I are caught in the middle. I don’t think Zianne’s feet were even touching the floor, and I’ve got one of her arms and Dink’s got the other and we’re sort of swept through the doors. I can see the kid, the one who opened the place up, and he’s smashed back against the wall behind the door, trying not to get crushed by the crowd and it’s absolutely nuts.
“And that’s when Zianne lost it. She couldn’t hold onto her human form—the crush of bodies, the excitement, the absolute greed of all those shoppers hunting for a bargain was too much.”
At this point, he’s laughing out loud and I can’t stand it. “So what happened, Mac?" I say. "Don’t leave me hanging here!”
“She dematerialized.” He snorted, he’s laughing so hard.
“She what?”
“Dematerialized. Lost track of her human form and reverted to her native shape, which is a tower of energy. Blue energy. In Kmart. With a gazillion people still expecting to see a Blue Light Special.”
“Oh. My.” I shook my head, not really sure I wanted to go there.
“Oh my is right.” He grabbed a handkerchief and wiped his streaming eyes and then took a couple of deep breaths so he could talk again. “She flashed blue in the sporting goods section, and everyone raced over there. She flipped out and flashed in women’s lingerie, and then in the toy department. Employees were scrambling, trying to explain that there weren’t any Blue Light Specials, customers were losing it, and Dink and I were trying to keep up with Zianne, only we’re both in hysterics and she’s zapping from one place to another and of course everyone is converging wherever she goes, and...”
At this point, he was beyond speech. I know he got her out of there—he finally told me she’d zapped herself inside him to hide, which made his eyes sort of sparkly and weird, but they were able to get out of the store without getting caught. And luckily her energy levels were so high that she blew out the security cameras, or it could have been difficult to explain.
Kmart reinstated their Blue Light Specials a couple of years later. Makes me wonder if Zianne had anything to do with that?
But it’s conversations like this that let me get inside my characters’ heads. Most of the time. I’m not sure I learned all that much about Mac, but I’ve got another bottle of Jack around here somewhere, and I imagine I’ll get him to talk.
And that’s how it happens. I sit down with my characters and ask them about themselves, about what’s going on in their lives. With any luck, they tell me. If they’re not real talkative, I can always ply them with liquor.
It’s got to be cocktail hour somewhere, right?
~~*~~
And this good looking guy on the left is Jesse Pavelka, a fitness expert and television host. He's also a dead ringer for MacArthur Dugan, my hero in Dream Catchers.
I saw his picture before I'd written a word of the series, and I knew he was Mac, but the picture, the visual, is only the beginning.
Readers often ask me where I get my ideas, how I get to know my heroes, that sort of thing. I wrote this a few years ago when the first story in the series, Dream Catcher, was coming out. I already "knew" Mac, but this little interlude is sort of where my head goes when I want to know more of the details--the way the guy thinks, if he's got a sense of humor, that sort of thing. Sometimes I have to work at it, really dig to get the guy talking. In Mac's case, it wasn't hard at all to get to know him. Give that man a glass of Jack and he turns into a natural born story teller.
I tend to totally immerse myself in an ongoing series, which can be nerve-wracking when I’m getting to know an entirely new set of characters. I mean, let’s face it—I wrote this series for Kensington’s Aphrodisia line, which means no boundaries, no limits, and a lot of very hot sex. It’s one thing after you’ve been writing a series for a while--I knew my characters from Wolf Tales inside and out after so many years living with them--and another altogether when you’re just starting out and digging into the truly intimate, “up close and personal” details on guys you barely know.
I'll be honest, I’m not the kind of girl who just leaps into bed with every sexy hero who shows up on my screen. I have to get to know them a bit better for that, so I like to sit down with my new lead man and ask him about himself—which is what I did with MacArthur Dugan. Mac's sort of my Anton Cheval of the series, (for those of you familiar with Wolf Tales) the one man strong enough to anchor the whole story for the rest of the characters who come along.
So, I’m going to turn this over to Mac, who was trying to explain his relationship with Zianne when they were still young, back at the dawn of the computer age in what would become Silicon Valley. Zianne's an absolutely beautiful woman—in her human form. Except she’s not human. Zianne is an alien—a Nyrian, a creature whose natural form is pure energy, a rather stunning column of blue light.
~~*~~
“So,” Mac says, leaning back in his chair and sipping from something way bigger than a shot glass filled to the brim with Jack Daniels, "You want to know more about me and Zianne, and Dink, huh? Well, it's not easy to explain, but this might give you an idea what it was like when Zianne first came to Earth, first wanted to talk me into helping her people. First, she wanted to know what humans were like. It’s 1992, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and Zianne’s reading the local newspaper and she sees all these ads. Tons of ads for Black Friday specials the day after Thanksgiving, and of course she wonders what the hell Black Friday is. I was still trying to explain Thanksgiving, which wasn’t easy because her sympathies are all with the bird. Anyway, I tried to describe it, but there’s no way to explain to someone from another planet the chaos of everyone trying to get in on the big sales that officially launch the Christmas shopping season.
“Zianne says, ‘Mac. I want to go. You need to take me to one of these sales. It’s a good way to learn about human behavior.’
"‘Yeah, right,’ I’m thinking. Human behavior at its worst. So I call Dink—he’s my best buddy and he and Zianne and I sort of have a thing going—a threesome, if you want the truth, though Zianne prefers the term ‘ménage.’ Says it sounds sexier. Like we need sexier? Dink says he's game, so we plan to take the plunge.”
Grinning about whatever he’s thinking, Mac takes another sip of the Jack. I looked at my watch. It was pretty early in the day for hard liquor, but you know how it goes—it’s got to be cocktail hour somewhere.
Mac shoots me that sexy grin and I know he's there, living in the memory when he says, "I decide the mall’s out. Too big, too overwhelming, too many chances for trouble. There’s a Kmart not far from my apartment and it’s supposed to open at six in the morning, so on Black Friday, still stuffed from too much food and drink on Turkey Day, Dink and Zianne and I crawl out of bed—and yeah, it was the same bed, okay?—get dressed and head for Kmart before the sun’s even thinking about coming up.
“Dink was not happy. He’s definitely not a morning person, but Zianne was all decked out in human form with a snappy outfit and ready to go before we’d even finished our coffee. Next thing I know, we’re jammed into the middle of a crush of anxious folks ready to start their Christmas shopping, and I’m looking over Zianne’s head at Dink, who’s looking a little green around the gills. Neither one of us likes crowds—I'm a computer geek and Dink’s a newbie newscaster for a station in the Bay Area—and Zianne’s never been in a situation like this in her life, only I didn’t realize just how nervous all the jostling was making her.
“Now remember, this was in 1992. Kmart used to have these things called Blue Light Specials, but they’d ended them the year before. I think they’re doing them again—not sure—but not in 1992. And Zianne’s a Nyrian...remember the tower of blue energy? Yep...you’re laughing. You can see where this is going, right?”
At this point, Mac chuckled softly, staring into his almost empty glass. I was really wishing I could read his mind about now, but his shields were up and his thoughts blocked.
“So, this skinny little pimply-faced clerk comes to the door with the keys and unlocks it. He doesn’t even have time to get out of the way before the crowd surges through and Dink, Zianne and I are caught in the middle. I don’t think Zianne’s feet were even touching the floor, and I’ve got one of her arms and Dink’s got the other and we’re sort of swept through the doors. I can see the kid, the one who opened the place up, and he’s smashed back against the wall behind the door, trying not to get crushed by the crowd and it’s absolutely nuts.
“And that’s when Zianne lost it. She couldn’t hold onto her human form—the crush of bodies, the excitement, the absolute greed of all those shoppers hunting for a bargain was too much.”
At this point, he’s laughing out loud and I can’t stand it. “So what happened, Mac?" I say. "Don’t leave me hanging here!”
“She dematerialized.” He snorted, he’s laughing so hard.
“She what?”
“Dematerialized. Lost track of her human form and reverted to her native shape, which is a tower of energy. Blue energy. In Kmart. With a gazillion people still expecting to see a Blue Light Special.”
“Oh. My.” I shook my head, not really sure I wanted to go there.
“Oh my is right.” He grabbed a handkerchief and wiped his streaming eyes and then took a couple of deep breaths so he could talk again. “She flashed blue in the sporting goods section, and everyone raced over there. She flipped out and flashed in women’s lingerie, and then in the toy department. Employees were scrambling, trying to explain that there weren’t any Blue Light Specials, customers were losing it, and Dink and I were trying to keep up with Zianne, only we’re both in hysterics and she’s zapping from one place to another and of course everyone is converging wherever she goes, and...”
At this point, he was beyond speech. I know he got her out of there—he finally told me she’d zapped herself inside him to hide, which made his eyes sort of sparkly and weird, but they were able to get out of the store without getting caught. And luckily her energy levels were so high that she blew out the security cameras, or it could have been difficult to explain.
Kmart reinstated their Blue Light Specials a couple of years later. Makes me wonder if Zianne had anything to do with that?
But it’s conversations like this that let me get inside my characters’ heads. Most of the time. I’m not sure I learned all that much about Mac, but I’ve got another bottle of Jack around here somewhere, and I imagine I’ll get him to talk.
And that’s how it happens. I sit down with my characters and ask them about themselves, about what’s going on in their lives. With any luck, they tell me. If they’re not real talkative, I can always ply them with liquor.
It’s got to be cocktail hour somewhere, right?
~~*~~
This short story takes place between the end of Dream Bound and the beginning of Dream Unchained, when Mac isn't sure that two decades of work is going to be enough to save his beloved Zianne, or her people--
The air was crisp and the stars shining so brightly overhead that they hardly looked real. There was no moon, but they didn’t need it this beautiful Halloween night. Mac held tightly to Zianne as the two of them walked down the broad street that marked the only area of shops and stores in this tiny mountain town.
Children laughed and raced about, garbed as witches and demons, cats and fairies. A few wore more intricate costumes, but this was a small rural community and the majority of kids were in homemade costumes. It didn’t seem to matter. They were all having a ball and working toward a healthy sugar high before the night ended.
“Tell me again, Mac.” Zianne hugged his arm and smiled up at him. “Tell me why they dress in costumes. What is this Halloween they celebrate?”
“It’s celebrated all over the world,” Mac said, loving her questions. She didn’t ask to placate him or pretend—human customs were totally new to her, and she honestly wanted to know. “It began as a way to honor the dead but it’s evolved into an excuse to dress up in costumes and beg for treats. Personally, I think it’s a conspiracy by the Dental Association so they can drum up more business.”
Zianne turned and stared at him out of those gorgeous violet eyes of hers. He tried to hold a straight face, but she was so sincere and he loved her so much, that he couldn’t tease her. Instead, he kissed her, groaning with the sweet taste of those full lips, until she pulled away and frowned. “Mac?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m teasing. It began as a serious day of remembrance of the dead, of those whose lives are over"—an explanation necessary because Nyrians don't generally die unless they chose to end themselves, or someone steals their soulstone—"but it’s become a fun holiday. A chance to wear costumes, to pretend you’re someone you’re not.” He cupped her face in his hands and smiled at her. “Now you, my sweet, would make a perfect little gray squirrel. I can see you with those sparkling eyes and a big bushy tail and...”
Her smile slipped. “Not funny, Mac. Not funny at all.” She turned away and walked ahead of him. He followed, but somehow she drew further ahead, walking faster and the kids were everywhere, laughing and jostling each other, getting between Mac and the woman he loved. He broke into a run until he was racing across the high desert, running like a madman beneath the stars. The kids were gone. The town had disappeared and instead all he could see was the array, those rows of satellite dishes; huge antennae pointing out into space, linking his dream team with the Nyrians aboard their ship.
Nyrians who were still enslaved, still held by their captors, but they were a proud people willing to sacrifice themselves rather than continue their journey across the heavens, pillaging and raping untold worlds, leaving destruction and death in their wake.
Zianne’s people. The ones he had sworn to save. Blinking, Mac gazed about and realized he was sitting in the big Adirondack chair on his deck overlooking the array, and the little gray squirrel was curled up in his lap. The squirrel that held the consciousness of the woman he loved.
It had all been a dream. Zianne was still trapped in the squirrel’s body, her people were still prisoners in the Gar ship on the far side of the moon, Earth was in more danger than ever, and his dream team was hoping for miracles.
And all Mac wanted was the woman he’d loved for twenty years. Twenty long years of working toward Zianne’s rescue with only a slim chance of success. They’d be making the rescue attempt tomorrow. One shot at saving the remnants of an entire race of people—Zianne’s people. He thought of the dream, of walking hand in hand with Zianne, of hearing the children’s laughter, celebrating the holiday.
Halloween was only a few weeks away. By then, Zianne and her people should be here, safe and sound. They’d have their soulstones and most of all, they’d have a future, not as slaves, but as free citizens of Earth. The squirrel sighed, and Mac wondered if Zianne had picked up his dreams for their future.
He hoped so. Hoped that by this coming Halloween, if he suggested she’d make a cute little squirrel, she’d be able to see the humor in it. For now, though, he stood and held the warm little creature in his hands and carried her inside.
She’d need her strength for tomorrow. They all would, but MacArthur Dugan expected success. He’d learned the importance of believing in himself, and now he wasn’t alone. He had his dream team, and he still had Zianne.
And the powerful certainty that failure was not an option.
The air was crisp and the stars shining so brightly overhead that they hardly looked real. There was no moon, but they didn’t need it this beautiful Halloween night. Mac held tightly to Zianne as the two of them walked down the broad street that marked the only area of shops and stores in this tiny mountain town.
Children laughed and raced about, garbed as witches and demons, cats and fairies. A few wore more intricate costumes, but this was a small rural community and the majority of kids were in homemade costumes. It didn’t seem to matter. They were all having a ball and working toward a healthy sugar high before the night ended.
“Tell me again, Mac.” Zianne hugged his arm and smiled up at him. “Tell me why they dress in costumes. What is this Halloween they celebrate?”
“It’s celebrated all over the world,” Mac said, loving her questions. She didn’t ask to placate him or pretend—human customs were totally new to her, and she honestly wanted to know. “It began as a way to honor the dead but it’s evolved into an excuse to dress up in costumes and beg for treats. Personally, I think it’s a conspiracy by the Dental Association so they can drum up more business.”
Zianne turned and stared at him out of those gorgeous violet eyes of hers. He tried to hold a straight face, but she was so sincere and he loved her so much, that he couldn’t tease her. Instead, he kissed her, groaning with the sweet taste of those full lips, until she pulled away and frowned. “Mac?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m teasing. It began as a serious day of remembrance of the dead, of those whose lives are over"—an explanation necessary because Nyrians don't generally die unless they chose to end themselves, or someone steals their soulstone—"but it’s become a fun holiday. A chance to wear costumes, to pretend you’re someone you’re not.” He cupped her face in his hands and smiled at her. “Now you, my sweet, would make a perfect little gray squirrel. I can see you with those sparkling eyes and a big bushy tail and...”
Her smile slipped. “Not funny, Mac. Not funny at all.” She turned away and walked ahead of him. He followed, but somehow she drew further ahead, walking faster and the kids were everywhere, laughing and jostling each other, getting between Mac and the woman he loved. He broke into a run until he was racing across the high desert, running like a madman beneath the stars. The kids were gone. The town had disappeared and instead all he could see was the array, those rows of satellite dishes; huge antennae pointing out into space, linking his dream team with the Nyrians aboard their ship.
Nyrians who were still enslaved, still held by their captors, but they were a proud people willing to sacrifice themselves rather than continue their journey across the heavens, pillaging and raping untold worlds, leaving destruction and death in their wake.
Zianne’s people. The ones he had sworn to save. Blinking, Mac gazed about and realized he was sitting in the big Adirondack chair on his deck overlooking the array, and the little gray squirrel was curled up in his lap. The squirrel that held the consciousness of the woman he loved.
It had all been a dream. Zianne was still trapped in the squirrel’s body, her people were still prisoners in the Gar ship on the far side of the moon, Earth was in more danger than ever, and his dream team was hoping for miracles.
And all Mac wanted was the woman he’d loved for twenty years. Twenty long years of working toward Zianne’s rescue with only a slim chance of success. They’d be making the rescue attempt tomorrow. One shot at saving the remnants of an entire race of people—Zianne’s people. He thought of the dream, of walking hand in hand with Zianne, of hearing the children’s laughter, celebrating the holiday.
Halloween was only a few weeks away. By then, Zianne and her people should be here, safe and sound. They’d have their soulstones and most of all, they’d have a future, not as slaves, but as free citizens of Earth. The squirrel sighed, and Mac wondered if Zianne had picked up his dreams for their future.
He hoped so. Hoped that by this coming Halloween, if he suggested she’d make a cute little squirrel, she’d be able to see the humor in it. For now, though, he stood and held the warm little creature in his hands and carried her inside.
She’d need her strength for tomorrow. They all would, but MacArthur Dugan expected success. He’d learned the importance of believing in himself, and now he wasn’t alone. He had his dream team, and he still had Zianne.
And the powerful certainty that failure was not an option.
As of 2/17/22: edits are done and once I'm done with the current project, Dream Catchers will be ready to go. All three stories--the novella that sets up the story, and the two novels that are the entire story will be ready for release as a three book bundle.
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