Wastin' away in Shark-a-ritaville

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My mother called me today. The waves crashing on the shore didn't quite mask the smug satisfaction in her voice as she told that she was lying on the beach doing nothing. Absolutely nada, zilch, zip! She paused to sip something more than likely cool and refreshing and sighed happily.

During this lull in her bragfest, I asked her if she'd been swimming yet, and she gasped in horror. "Are you nuts?" Yes, I am, thanks to her, but I didn't say that..out loud, because while she's in Florida on vacation, it won't prevent the don't make me come up there, young lady speech. And I don't feel like hearing it, well, okay, the young lady part would be nice.

Luckily, she contined and I forgot all about my smartalec reply which would have gotten my butt in a sling. "Sharks are evil, they like to get revenge, and I still have those sharkskin boots I got in the 70's. They're gonna get me for that."

"No they're not!" Seriously though, who keeps boots that long? I was born in the 70's!

"Yes they are! Hello, Jaws? It was based on a true story."

"That wasn't a true story, that was just a movie!" I try to instill some sanity in her oh so twisted logic but I doubt she hears me because she's pulled the phone away from her to yell something at my stepfather. It sounds like either "great white behind you!" or "good for you!" it's six of one and half dozen of the other for her. And it means the same thing, "Shut up I'm on the phone!"

Apparently, my stepfather is actually out in the water. He may as well have moved to Beau Bridge, turned himself into a crawdad, slathered himself in Tobasco and butter and screamed, "Eat me!" at least, this is what she is muttering when she comes back on the line. So I know he's committed this grevious sin even before she tells me he's sufing the waves on a body board. "He looks just like a seal from below. I saw that on Shark Week last year. And I know that was real. It said documentary."

"Yes, that's real. Jaws, isn't. But he's having a good time?" I smile as I ask this.

"He looks it. I'm having one too. I'll bring you home some shells, they're all along the beach. And I'll even bring you a shirt. I love you, even though you make fun of me." She sniffs indignantly.

"I love you too, Mama." I hum the Jaws theme. "And remember, sharks can come up on..."

"Oh shut up! I'm not moving from this spot. If one comes near me, I'll smack it in the eye with my flipflop." I can picture her sitting close enough so that the waves barely lap at her feet. She likes to play it safe, my mama, but she likes to get her feet wet too.

Jenn's Addiction

People always seem to ask me the same question in chats, or interviews, "What inspires you to write your stories?" Though, sometimes, I get the feeling what they want to ask is, "What in the heck are you smoking?" After thinking about it, though, I've realized that I am an addict of sorts and what I'm jonesin' for is books, movies, and music, and here lately, I've figured out that I am even a little bit of a television-phile. But like many, I never knew what I had until it was gone. *sniffles*

Movies(and television to a certain extent) are pure visual escapism where I can just watch the story unfold. It's harder for me to do that if the movie in question is based on a book I've already read. My brain can't mesh the book/movie versions and I end up frustrated instead of happy. Although, a hot hunkolicious man in the lead role doesn't hurt my feelings any.

Books have been my friends for over thirty years. I'm a total book-hewoor. If you have a book, you may not want to lend it to me. While I won't hurt it, there is the chance that I will think of it as my own once I've taken it into my bookcave to fondle, er.. I mean read.

A truly great song can carry me heights of happiness and fling me to the pits of despair from one chorus to the next. My tastes are eclectic, from metal, classical, to hiphop and yes, I know you're surprised to hear it, even the pure sweet twang of a sad country song. While this one is the most conducive to my creativity as I can listen to it while writing, it can distract me as well, so I have to strike a precarious balance between feeding my addictions and working.


Of course, when all the others pale, there is always that old standby....

CHOCOLATE!!

*pauses for a moment of silence*

Whatever your addiction is, feed it every once in a while, because indulging yourself can be a great way to fuel your creativity.

Happy Wednesday and Happy Writing,


Jenna

I Dream of Desi

Desdemona Arnez hurried under the long white fangs poised in perpetual bite that marked the entrance to the Fifth Annual ParaPleasure Expo. She skirted a group of people who seemed to be watching an a couple writhing on the floor. She wasn’t sure but she thought they might be attempting to demonstrate how to have sex with their clothes on. It wasn’t an easy feat, but it wasn’t impossible either, she’d done it before. She heard someone say, ‘Mom!’ and winced. She’d never done it with her parents watching though.

Sparing a smile for Amanda Bast, the well-dressed hostess of DunVegas Hotel's casino, she kept walking. She didn’t have time to stop and gab with the other woman about who had gotten more catcalls that week. Bast always won, because she whistled at herself.

She spotted her booth, which was unfortunately still in sight of the fanged entryway, but there was no help for that because she’d picked this spot. Thinking of what she’d done to snag such a plum location made her right eyelid twitch. An even more annoying side effect was that she now had a new number one fan, who was gazing at her from across the crowded room.

Andre, gave her his best randy goat grin, while smoothing his hands down his long black coat and her eyes involuntary followed the same path. Unfortunately, the coat wasn’t quite long enough to hide the fact that he was indeed a horny little satyr, in more ways than one.

She jerked her gaze away and concentrated on lining up her stock according to size, color, speed, and flexibility, hoping that if she didn’t look up again, he’d get the picture and leave her alone. She couldn’t get that lucky Sure enough, the clatter of his shiny black hooves on the floor warned her that he wasn’t going to give up that easily. “Desi, how long will you make me suffer?” When he whined, his voice sounded like the bleating of a goat.

With an irritated sigh, she tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and gave him a glare designed to wither even the most stalwart of men. However, Andre was made of sterner stuff and simply stared back out of a pair of bright golden eyes that reminded her of a goat. He’d lived up to the randy part the night before. “But Desi, I love you.”

She slapped a whip down on the counter and he flinched. “Look Andre, I told you, I don’t do love, I do sex. That’s it.”

“I could live with that.”

With a low growl, she came out from behind the counter, standing toe to hoof with him. “Go away before I hurt you.”

Instead of running away, Andre took her hands in his, and took a deep breath, his eyes bright with lust. “Ooh, really?”

Sighing, her anger cooled and her shoulders slumped. “No.”

“Aw.”

“Is there a problem?” A sexy rumble vibrated along her spine, heading straight into the crotch of her panties with unerring precision. Desi went on her toes to see over Andre’s shoulder and locked gazes with one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. Her stomach clenched and her knees went weak. Andre mistook her reaction and tightened his hold, but she was glad for it, because she needed help standing up right then.

A pair of green eyes stood out in stark contrast against dark lashes so thick they gave her a pang of envy. His hair reminded her of autumn leaves, in every color of red brown and gold together in a longish shaggy cut that almost reached his shoulders. His mouth was a shade too full, and the lower half of his jaw covered in stubble. Combined with the long lean body packed into the untucked black t-shirt and faded Levi’s, he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. She wouldn’t mind rolling him right into hers.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Mr. Sex on a Stick asked and her hormones, which had been on full alert, came to a screeching halt. Even as handsome as he was, that line wasn’t going to cut it with her.

With as icy a tone as she could muster, she replied, “I doubt it.” and shook free of Andre’s hold. It was the truth; she’d have remembered this man. Unless... Frantically, she searched her memory. Talk about an awkward moment. Well, only for her. After all, none of her victims knew her real identity.

As a succubus, Desi invaded men’s dreams, granting their wildest fantasies, in return, she fed off the energy they generated. She’d survived for three centuries because unlike some of her greedier sisters, she didn’t take too much, which meant she’d visited a whole bunch of men.

However, when she was in the waking world, she preferred wear the face she’d had as a mortal. So, while it was possible that she’d mad a sex pit stop at Sir Studly’s, she wasn’t too worried about him recognizing her, because she’d bet anything that he’d chosen blonde and brainless to be his dream girl. Though she’d never had any complaints in the breast department, she wasn’t blonde and she definitely wasn’t brainless.

~*~

Lucian stared at the woman standing beside the counter covered with an array of sex toys, whips and other things he couldn’t even begin to figure out a use for and wondered why he'd gotten a tip about this woman. Those toys didn’t really look very dangerous and she couldn’t be hiding anything in the red leather bustier, because there simply wasn’t room for anything else.

He knew he shouldn’t have asked about seeing her somewhere before, because the moment the words left his mouth, her black eyes went flat and hard. Damn she thought he was trying to pick her up. Not that he’d mind if she said yes.

Her hair was pulled up in a shiny ribbon of inky black, long enough to bounce off her ass when she turned and hurried back to her booth as if someone were chasing her. He stared and a grin stretched across his mouth all by itself. He remembered that ass. Round, soft and firm, he’d had his hands on that, using it to hold her in place as he’d thrust inside...

“Who are you?” The angry question jerked him back to the present. He blinked at the sight before him. The creature had furred legs and hooves and tiny horns, so it had to be a satyr. He wore a long black coat, and on that coat was a tag that read Andre, more importantly it said he was an employee of the expo.

Lucian jerked his head to one side and Andre followed. Thankfully, the woman was distracted. Off to their left, a vampire jumped off a massage table, transforming into a bat in mid-leap. Apparently frightened, his quarry squeaked and ducked beneath the counter, watching as the bat flapped off into the night sky. “My name’s Lucian Ballantine, I work for Paranormal and Magical Security.”

“PMS?” Andre laughed so hard he could barely speak.

“That’s Paranormal Magical Security.” Lucian gritted out, trying to keep his voice down.

“Yeah, but we call it PMS because everyone who works there is so bitchy.” Andre smirked.

“Whatever.” He shrugged, acting as though he didn’t hate the initials. “Look, maybe you can help me.” Lucian nodded in the woman’s direction. “Who is she?”

Andre narrowed his eyes. “Why do you want to know?”

“Someone sent me a note, said I was supposed to watch this booth and the person in it.”

All traces of amusement fled the satyr’s face. “Is she contagious?” He leaned forward, gasping for breath, his naturally golden skin ashen. “We, uh, you know.” Andre bit his lip and danced around on his hooves.

“What’s her name?” Lucian asked.

“Desi, at least that’s what she told me,” He glanced back at Desi, who seemed to be unaware that they were talking about her, then gave Lucian a pleading stare. “Look, just give it to me straight. How long do I got?”

Lucian had been staring at Desi too, taking in the way the light turned her skin the color of caramels. It made him hungry.

“Hey! Will you answer me! I’m dyin’ here and you’re communing with Richard and his two brothers down in pantsville!” Andre snapped his fingers in front of Lucian’s face.

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“I know you're dazed by the way she looks. She’s hot but watch it or you’ll get burned!” Andre paused for a breath, but before Lucian could correct him, he was off again, “I was once like you until I woke up and smelled the danger.” The satyr gave him a piteous look that lasted a split second before changing to fear once more. “Now, tell me what’s wrong with her or I’ll—” As if a suddenly thought occurred to him, he stopped in mid-sentence, and gagged. Lucian obligingly slapped him on the back until he held up a hand for him to stop. Swallowing hard, Andre took a deep breath and started babbling. “She is a she, right? I haven’t suddenly started playin’ for the other team without knowing it have I?”

Lucian let him wriggle on the hook for a second or two before he set him free. “Naw, she’s a she,” Then, “As far as I know.”

“Ack!” At that, Andre scuttled off with a quick, “See you later, Desi!” over his shoulder.

“Not if I see you first.” She muttered, then gave Lucian another glare. He wondered if she had another expression, and found out a second later, when her eyes lit with a smile. For the first time, he noticed that they weren’t really black, but a deep blue, like the sky right before dawn. She also had a dimple in each cheek, not something he thought a dangerous creatures had. Her smile got wider and his dick stood up straight and took notice. Tingles slid along his skin, starting at the top of his head, getting very friendly at all the good spots on the way to his toes.

“Hello, welcome to the ParaPleasure Expo. Oh, wait.” She stopped and pulled a lanyard out from under the counter, looping it over her head. “Sorry, I forgot my nametag. I’m Desdemona, but you can call me Desi. How can I help you?” She touched the man’s arm and an arc of blue fire visible only to Lucian, and more than likely Desi herself slid from her hand onto the man's fingers. Almost immediately, red came from his hand and melded with the blue, tinting it a deep violet shade. Ah, shit, his anonymous tip was good, however, it didn’t seem to be harming the old dude, on the contrary, he looked mighty happy to be there, so Lucian got just close enough to watch, and stop it, if necessary.

The little bald man stared up at Desi in adoration. “I’m looking for something for uh..”

She fluttered her lashes at him. “Let me guess, your wife?”

“Oh, ah, how did you know?”

The man’s question made Lucian roll his eyes toward the ceiling. How about that ring on your finger, you old fool?

“I can tell when a man is in a satisfying relationship.” Desi leaned on the counter and the man’s eyes almost popped out of his head at the view. “You have this glow about you,” She cooed.

“I do?” Beads of sweat popped on baldy's head, so she was half right. “I mean I do! Yes, of course I do.”

“What’s your name?”

“Fred.”

“Well, Fred, I think you and your wife need this.” She picked up a small purple device that had a little rabbit ears on the end. “And this and oh, yes, this.” Now here’s what you do. She leaned close and whispered in his ear.

Fred jerked back and stared at her with wide eyes. “I don’t think Jackie would like that.”

“Trust me, Fred. I’m a woman and I like that, a lot.” Desi smothered a giggle behind her hand. Lucian wanted to gag at her little act, but he wasn’t too surprised when Fred walked away with a black bag with pink hearts and Turn Me On written in red.

With married men, she got them to buy a toy for themselves or their partners. The single guys, she sold a DVD with promises that they’d be satisfied. With the women, she was either a confidant, a co-conspirator against a man who didn’t understand their needs, or just a girlfriend who knew they didn’t need a man if they had batteries. Almost every customer walked away with a bag. But more importantly, they left a tiny bit of their aura behind with Desi. Each time her aura flared, he smelled something that made him crazy! His psi-talent was visions but he'd never had scents become involved before. Yet, when she’d started using her magic, the teasing smell of jasmine, roses and some indefinable sweet scent wafted past his nose. It was addictive, making him feel hungry, horny and pissed off all at the same time.

Desi laughed with one of her female clients and he inhaled sharply. The was so strong it fogged his senses breaking down his shields, triggering a vision that was more vivid than he'd ever had before.

~*~

He lay on a bed in a strange room with plain white walls. He thought he was alone, then he noticed a woman standing in the shadows. The light was dim, but her blonde hair and bright blue eyes seemed to glow, as did the long red robe she wore. “Did you call me?”

“Yes.”

Apparently, this was the right answer, because she let the robe fall to reveal soft white flesh and crawled up his body. Once astraddle him, she braced her arms on either side of his head, leaning down to kiss him softly on the mouth. He shivered when her long silky hair tickled his bare skin. She laughed and shook her head, her lips curving into a mysterious smile. “Don’t you recognize me?” Her blonde hair darkened until it was raven black, and her eyes turned a familiar midnight shade.

Desi!

~*~

It took effort, but he thrust himself out of the vision. Cold rage filled him, killing every bit of lust he’d been feeling for her. She’d been inside his head. He’d seen enough. He walked over to her so he could catch her in case she ran. “You’re good,” He told her once he reached her side.

“What can I say?” She leaned against the counter with a weary sigh. “Sex sells.”

“Too bad I’m going to have to haul you in for magical mischief.”

“What?” Her eyes went wide when he pulled out a pair of magically enforced cuffs. “I did no such thing! How dare …” She stopped talking when he snapped the first one in place and pulled her other arm behind her back, securing them in place.

“Desi, you've got some explaining to do.”

Jenna Leigh

Blue Moon

I'm wondering what's up with Hollywood and its prediliction with making werewolves out to be the bad guy. It all began with Lon Chaney Jr and continued with An American Werewolf in London which was an anti-tourist movie if ever I saw one. Stay home Americans, or this will happen to you! Then there was The Howling franchise, the second of which was just an excuse to give Christopher Lee a job, which is a great reason to do a movie! I love him! He's a wonderful actor. But another reason seemed to be to show Sybil Danning naked, and here's a word from the wise, it's a great view, but it only lasts a few minutes in the 'oohh' category before heading straight into 'ewww!' ville. That's a warning that my male cousins didn't have, yeah, I knew about it, but didn't tell them.

Underworld was slightly better (not really) with vamps against the werewolves, but still, everyone was bad in that movie, especially the acting. Cursed totally whimped out by making me think one thing the entire time then, taking it away at the end. And Christina Ricci's head is ginormous, so, she'd have made a goofy looking weregurrl, anyway. If I'd have been Pacey, I'd have stuck with that blonde Scott Baio lovin chick, at least she knows good actors when she sees them.

So, I was hoping that with the new movie Skinwalkers they'd give me some furries to love. Or at least give us a great Native American history lesson. No.. and um, no. Blood, guns, bullets, bikers and sex. Heck, I can go to Samhain right now, and pick out any paranormal shifter book and get 20 times the entertainment out of the first chapter than I got from this movie.

Now I know what some will say it's all about the beast within, the big bad wolf and yeah yeah I remember the Duran Duran 80's lupine love song, Hungry Like the Wolf. But seriously folks, can't we try to get along with our furry brethren? Wolves are pack animals, they like to be friends. Werewolves are the same thing, albeit with bigger teeth, and the attititudes , personalities and egos of the meanest mammals on the planet--man. But like any canine, they can be loyal, lovable and big hearted.

Werewolves are maligned, misquoted, and even mistreated with silver poisoning but has anyone called PETA to help them? No! Not that I'd want Pam Anderson near any of my werewolves. I'm not sure she'd survive. And no, I'm not talking about the males, I do have females in the pack. Hmm, I wonder if silicon can be digested by were-stomachs? I'll ask SJ, I bet he'll know.

Thirteen Things about JENNA LEIGH

Thirteen Things about JENNA LEIGH 1 - When did you decide you wanted to be a writer? Escape is the word that comes to mind. As a kid, I loved books, as a teen it was historical romances until I was bitten by the vampire bug. One fine day, Sherrilyn Kenyon’s website led me to her fan-fic group where I stayed for over three years, which was great training, if addictive. Then Patrice, a dear, scary friend said, “I review. I say your stuff is good. Submit somewhere! Don’t be an idiot!” I listened and got lucky, then the work started. I’m going to have to pay that woman a visit one day. 2 - Do you write everyday? I try, but sometimes, it doesn’t happen. Any routines or rituals? I know there’s a stereotype about folks from Louisiana, but the only chickens sacrificed to the writing of my books were already dead and fried at Popeye’s, honest. Besides that one, it’s sitting down, turning on the computer and trying to get into my characters’ heads. Are you a plot or seat-of-your-pants writer? I am a panster. I wish I could plot, but I’ve tried it and everything ground to a total halt. That’s not to say I don’t have a rough outline of where I want my stories to go. I ‘rewrite’ scenes in my head a lot before ever putting them to page though. 3 - What are the challenges of writing paranormal romance? Making the unbelievable just believable enough so people won’t say ‘yeah right!’ and throw it down. I know werewolves don’t exist, but if they did, I’d like to think Marcus et al are pretty good examples of what they could be. Writers are all about the what if . What if this happened, then this could happen and then well, the possibilities therefore, the stories are endless. 4 - Star Wars or Star Trek? Star Trek of course. What sort of question is this? Did Jethro the Redneck Jedi put you up to this? Spock is hot. The fact that the Lucas can't stop remaking his movies is a sign of a sick mind. He has enough of my husband's money, so he can just shove a saber up his butt and call himself a nightlight! Did I mention Spock is hot? 5 - What would you say has been your most significant achievement as a writer? Finishing manuscripts, submitting them and having companies say yes. I can’t believe I’m an author, not really. I’m still just a fan girl at heart. 6 - What advice would you give to aspiring writers? Write what you love. Don’t do something you’re going to hate three books into the series. If you love it, it will show in your work. Don’t be discouraged if someone says no to you. Be encouraged by good criticism. Listen to it and learn from it. 7 - How much time do you devote to promoting your books? Not enough. Never enough. Buy all my books! Buy multiple copies! They make great presents! 8 - What kinds of books do you like to read? Sometimes, it’s the same as I like to write, humorous, paranormals or contemporaries other times, I read historical romances because I don’t write them and it’s a change for me. Who is your favorite author? Katie MacAlister, she makes me smile, always. 9 - What is your latest book about? The Wolf’s Heart: Lainie and Marcus haven’t seen each other since both were teens. Lainie’s a reporter now and back in his life asking his help to ferret out information on a story. Marcus has secrets in his life he doesn’t want known, namely that he’s the leader of a pack of werewolves. Will it make headlines when she finds out his furry little secret? 10 - What will your next book be about? I’m working on the sequel to TWH called The Wolf’s Mistress. I’ve submitted Dateless in the Dodge, the sequel to Braless in the Buick to my publisher and I’m also working on another project with co-author Melanie Gilbreath called Winding City, an urban fantasy romance. Wow, I look really busy don’t I? 11 - What are the goals you are still working toward? Write more. Promo more. Win lotto. Hire publicist. Quit day job. Eat more chocolate. That last one, I can do, easy. 12 - When people look back at your life, how do you want to be remembered? That Jenna Leigh! She made me laugh. 13 - Now for the most important question - what do you believe makes a book sexy? The author has to make me believe that the emotion in the book is real. I like to feel what the heroine feels too, every high and low. I don’t want to read, “Ooh, baby, you make me so hot!” and have to be content with that. No, I want to feel the heat, be scorched by it, have the pages crinkle and turn black from the sexual tension before they finally let go and have at it. I want to have to sit in a walk-in cooler while reading the book. Wait a minute, the heck with that! I want to write it! Visit Jenna Leigh at her website - http://www.jennaleighzone.com/ Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

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Mama, Hubby and the Devil in the Deep Blue Sea

Today my husband sped into the drive, braked so fast that gravel flew under the tires and got out, running up on the porch, into the house. I thought, he was anxious to get home because he missed me, or perhaps was glad my mother had come to visit (ha ha!!) I raised my face up for a kiss, but he ran into the kitchen barely giving me a passing glance and a muttered. "Turn it on channel 36." I stupidly asked why as he raced back into the living room, to flop on the couch with an extra large glass of iced tea in his hand and got the answer I should have guessed all by myself. It is summer after all.

"IT'S SHARK WEEK!"

And I did mention my mother the paranoid one was visiting right? Riigght! She tucked her feet up in the chair and wiggled happily. "Ooh, yes, sharks are evil, let's see what they're plotting now." She glanced at me with a frown. "Turn the channel now!" With a dejected sigh I turned the channel from the Food Network where I could plan a menu to the Discovery Channel where I am on the menu.

Trapped inside a shark-infested living room, I was subjected to the sight of what happens to a person who's been bitten by the finned fiends. Not only that, I got commentary in stereo.

Mother: "Hmm hmm, see that? They're idiots. I'd have been on the beach with my tea glass and my gun, so I'd have been safe!"
Hubby: "I know, but lookit those teeth. I want a shark."
Mother: "To eat?"
Hubby: "No, like in a tank."
Mother, looking affronted, horrified and fascinated, as I know for a fact she was thinking about how many times she'd get to shoot it when, not if it got out of control: "No, no, no, just get a catfish, then, if it bothers you, you can always fry it."
Hubby: "Oooh, fried fish." He looks at me hopefully.
Me: "I'm not cooking, it's too hot."
Hubby: "Fine, but I want a tooth necklace."

My mother shudders then her feet start tapping on the floor. She can't watch, but she can't make herself look away. When a shark bites the camera, she screams in delighted horror. My husband slyly tells her that perch are shark's little spies and are scouting out the rivers for them. For a brief second I can tell she almost believes him, then he blows it by trotting out the 'bullshark in the Missouri River' story. She arches a brow and informs him that she's seen that documentary, twice this year already. All goes quiet as they go back to staring at the tv with rapt attention. Both of them have watched Jaws, the movie at least 300 times, each. My mother knows all the lines by heart. My husband is even worse as he owns all of the movies and the books.

My husband and she both believe that sharks will one day make the evolutionary and very real leap into the land locked Ouachita river just to feed upon their tender flesh. I don't know what's worse, being trapped in the house with two shark lover/haters or realizing I married the male version of my paranoid, conspiracy theory loving mother.

Surfs Up

Jenna

Déjà who or is that whom?

Have you ever experienced the feeling that you've been somewhere before? While many call this Deja Vu, the true term is Deja vecu which means already lived. But I'm not typing that weird word over and over. And, sorry, I can't do the symbols either as Blogger doesn't like them.

Deja Vu: (from Wikipedia) Is French and means already seen. It's also called paramnesia from the Greek word para (for parallel) and mnēmē (for memory) describes the experience of feeling that one has witnessed or experienced a new situation previously. The experience of deja vu is usually accompanied by a compelling sense of familiarity, and also a sense of eeriness.

Example (Written by me and totally fictitious)

The Vu-er arrives in a new town. He and his friends check into their hotel, then decide to walk around the historic downtown area and get lost. However, our Deja Dude finds himself recognizing landmarks and walks faster, led by instincts he doesn't understand and at first doesn't question. His friends follow, thinking he's been to B-town before. Of course, when asked he'll more than likely chalk it up to his Class A navigational skills and blow it off. But, deep down he'll wonder just how he knew to turn left at the big oak tree with a 200 year old lightening scar to get back to the town square.

**
While some accept these altered states of consciousness as a blip in their perceptions in reality others believe these 'flashes' are proof positive that they've either lived before, can see into the past or future or both. Whichever one is chosen, most agree it can be a creepy feeling.

But what part of the brain is stimulated when when deja vu comes calling? All of them are involved because heightened senses of smell, hearing and sight and even 'auras' have been documented. Deja vu can also be a warning sign of an upcoming episode for those with seizure disorders. Perhaps stimulated isn't the word, maybe overstimulated like a brain storm or a hiccup.

The scientific jury is still out on what exactly it is, despite leaps and bounds in medical science. The brain, or more accurately, the mind, is uncharted territory. They don't really know why we get that feeling of "I've been here before." or why we dream about places we've never been and walk down streets our feet have never touched in reality.

So is deja vu a waking dream or is it something more wild and paranormal? Perhaps our psyches are trying to tell us some great big cosmic joke and one day we'll wake up--or is that fall deeper into the dreaming?--and laugh at the punch line. Until then it'll remain one of those neat puzzles to figure out. Because while we're able to scan the brain, and even cut it up and look inside it so far we haven't quite managed to figure out how to look at the human imagination under a microscope.

Dreams. The Final Frontier.

Jenna Leigh

Idependence Day, Let Freedom Blog

I'd wondered whether to blog about something paranormal or about the 4th of July, and then it hit me. If not for that shot heard round the world and those men who signed the Declaration of Indepedence, I may not have the freedom to write about werewolves, witches or wyverns, so there you go. Everybody wins! Well, okay, that's probably going to far, as British authors like Lynne et al do write paranormal, but sue me, it's the middle of the night. What am I gonna say? I'm gonna fight for my right to dump tea into the sea? That rhymes, as does Taxation without representation (sorta), but the last one is harder to spell.

War was fought over that tea (and liquor) tax, among other things. Wars have been fought over less and the less I say about that one, the better.

Thanks to Schoolhouse Rock, I can recite the preamble from memory, though, I do have to sing it aloud as I type, unfortunately for the cat's delicate sensibilities.

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic tranquility provide for the common defence promote the general welfare and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

That bit of recall got me an A+ in American History. You know, our forefathers were pretty cool to have thought up this wonderfully complex set of rules and regulations that in large part hold up to this day. They proved that they were idealistic and you have to admit, their hearts were truly in the right place. Though some say we've gone downhill , I personally don't think so, or else, why would everybody keep wanting to come here? It can't just be a visit to Disneyland.

So, tomorrow when you go to your backyard B-B-Q's just remember those that are fighting right now. This is from a sleepy American who is about to go to her warm bed knowing she's being protected by some very brave soldiers. Who're all really smart as they have to do it from thousands of miles away, across an ocean and everything. Hurry home, be safe and Happy Independence Day to you.

My Time To Howl

Doe Ray Me Me Me Me *choke* Have you ever waited so long for something to happen then got what amounts to cyber stage fright? I should be used to it by now, but I always get that way. Today's the day. The Wolf's Heart is OUT! Yeeehaw!! I'm so happy and yet, so terrified people will hate my baby that part of me wants to snatch it back and hide it where nobody will ever see it again! LOL. However, I'm proud of my wonderfully weird werewolf, not to mention the wicked woman who loves him, so without further ado..



The Wolf's Heart is available now from Samhain Publishing! Yeah!

Now, I'm just HTML savvy enough to link the picture to the site, so if you click it, it'll take you to the buy link and the excerpt, just like the blog below, however if you click on the smaller picture, you'll get another sneak peek.



I hope you enjoy Lainie and Marcus in The Wolf's Heart, they're two of my most favorite characters. He's all alpha but she's just sassy enough to ensure that sparks will fly. I'm already working on the second story in this series and of course, these two have made an appearance. Now to make sure they don't upstage my hero and heroine.

Happy Reading Everyone!

Jenna Leigh

New Paranormal Romance from Samhain Publishing

Last week Jorrie had a book out, and this week we've got a hot new release from BTV's Jenna Leigh!

“The Wolf's Heart” by Jenna Leigh
Paranormal Romance Novel

When a nosy reporter reunites with a werewolf in tycoon’s clothing, sparks fly and passions ignite. The burning question is, who’s taming who?

Investigative Reporter Elaine Westerbrook is determined to find the answers to the questions that haunt her. Plagued all her life by dreams of creatures that can’t possibly exist, she’ll do anything to get the information she needs, up to and including reigniting a fire with the deliciously mysterious Marcus Bei—a fire she thought extinguished long ago.

Marcus Bei fought tooth and claw to be an Alpha in the corporate world but it’s nothing compared to being Alpha of his pack. It’s lonely at the top as the Lupin of the Arizona werewolf pack, but that’s the price he’ll pay to keep his pack safe from his father and others like him. So when childhood sweetheart Elaine walks back into his life, his first instinct is to shove her right back out again. But Marcus can’t find the strength to push away the very thing his other half has been waiting for so long—his mate.

Together, Marcus and Elaine search for the truth and find out if they have a future in spite of a past threatening to tear them apart. Will Elaine run when she discovers what Marcus really is, or will she accept The Wolf’s Heart?

Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, graphic language, violence.

Read An Excerpt Online * Buy from MBaM!

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Another paranormal romance novel releasing this week from Samhain is:

“Shameful” by Amanda Young
On a frigid winter night, vengeance is what he seeks. A love strong enough to melt the ice surrounding his battered heart is what he finds. Second book in MIA series.

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Go see! Get yourself a little something, or a big something, from http://www.samhainpublishing.com/ to read on your PDA in bed at night :)

Jody Wallace
So much cyberspace, so little time!
http://www.jodywallace.com/ * http://www.elliemarvel.com/

Haunted history, and yes, some hilarity.

I've bravely gone where no chickenheart has gone before! Alright fine if you must know, this past October, my intrepid and yeah, bossy friend made me go on this haunted walk in the French Quarter of New Orleans. I didn't see anything overtly scary. Of course, I wasn't looking all that closely either. If you haven't figured it out, I'm Scooby Doo and she's Velma of this dippy duo, or terrible trio as we did have a third with us. To protect the guilty, I shall simply call her Shaggina of the frozen north, as she was as scared as me. If something did decide to jump out at us, and say "Les Le Booogity Boogity" well, 'Velma' would have a heavy load to carry is all I'm sayin.

At the beginning of our tour, the guide informed us that if anyone jumped out in a mask and said 'boo' at us, they were not ghosts, they were in fact muggers and we were to look to him for instructions on how and where to run. Ha, very funny, right? Riiight. But, he was full of trivia about the fair city.

The above picture was taken by me, and yes, it sucks. For some reason, my camera which had been acting fine, decided to become the heinous one and darken up. Was it ghosts? I doubt it, more like cheap batteries. Here is the story which I heard third hand and the tour guide got second hand, so I guess it's about fifth hand. So take it with a grain of salt and since it's in New Olreans, some gumbo file` too, cher`. *winks*

This is the house where Julie lived. She was the beautiful octeroon mistress of a wealthy businessman. She was so desperate to marry him that she stayed outside on the roof naked in the middle of December to prove her love. Her lover found her the next morning dead of exposure. A sad tale, and the only one that didn't scare the beejeezus out of me, just made me sniffle. But it is also said that she still haunts The Bottom of the Cup Tea Shop at the bottom of the building which you can't see in the crappy picture. But I like my picture, it's got atmosphere.

So, what did I learn? Just walking around in the dark is scary. No we didn't get mugged, but after the tour was over I was left all by myself with 'Velma' I found out that without the buffer of say Shaggina or perhaps even *coughs* Daphne the Designer Diva, Velma will say things like "jenkies" and drag you to every haunted nook and cranny of New Orleans in search of 'phenomenon'.

Did she forget that I'm Scooby Doo? I don't want to see phenomenon! I want some beads, a few scooby snacks and my nice air conditioned bed, (please recall this is New Orleans air conditioning is a must) not be subjected to dark and scary voodoo shops and creepy corners that make me scream so that people look at me askance. More than usual I mean. I won't even go into the chicken feet incident except to say. "Bok you!" While my own feet were killing me by the end of the night, my horizons had been broadened. I didn' t see any real ghosts, but she delighted in scaring the crap out of me at least ten times. Don't be fooled, by the cartoons yall, 'Velma' is the devil.

Les Le Boogity To Yall Too,

Jenna Leigh

Let's Hear it For the Wolves

The Wolf’s Heart is due out in just a few short weeks and of course, I can think of nothing else. So, let’s talk about werewolves! Okay, my werewolves. I’ll say up front that mine aren’t like the ones in myth and legend, I decided to forgo the whole cursed, or magic thing in favor of genetics and science. Well, not entirely. You see, I’ve long had a theory that science is just a form of magic that’s been accepted as fact. Strange, I know, but still, a girl’s gotta have some illusions to cling to in life.

So what makes the man a beast and vice versa? What makes this—or at least my—dual natured creature tick? Does the moon control him? If so, is it the wax or the wane of it? How or why does he become the wolf, does it happen in a twinkling or does he have to work at it?

I had to ask myself all these questions at the beginning of my story and then do the hard part, stick to it. I can tell you that my werewolves don’t just ‘zap!’ change into a furry beast. The bones slide and grind and the rest of his body adjusts to the change slowly and somewhat painfully. At the full moon, the wolf takes control, but until then, not as much unless emotions run high.

Marcus is the Lupin, or the head of the pack of wolves, so he’s also able to shift when the moon isn’t full, but will change other times so he can blow off a little steam. He and the other more powerful werewolves have two forms; the wolf, and the Wolfkin, a cross between a wolf and a man, only much larger and a lot more dangerous. But, there’s also the fact that Marcus is directly descended from David, who I call the prototype, so he’s a little bit different than the rest. David, well, the term ‘broke the mold’ pretty describes that one.

While I can’t spill all my beans, I will tell you that within the scientific origins of my werewolves lies a bit of magic. I mean, how un-fun would it be for the whole thing to have been hatched out of a lab? The mysteries of nature are vast enough to hide the beginnings of Marcus and the rest of his furry brethren; at least, they are in my book. I’ll also give you the sad news that all the answers don’t lie within the first installment. That would have made the book about a thousand pages long.

Does a paranormal still have the right to be called a paranormal when it’s got genetic enhancement shoved into it? I’m not sure, but David’s story is where the magic’s going to stay until I pick it out on this slightly battered keyboard of mine. I, for one, can’t wait.

Jenna Leigh

Part of the Dream Team?

They say hindsight’s twenty/twenty and looking back, I’ve noticed something. I use dreams—a lot. I haven’t done it consciously, it’s just something that’s woven its way into my stories, by chance or circumstance. A recurring nightmare to show that a character has been haunted by something for a long time; another slightly warped, Dada-esque type nightmare involving a bride seeking bouquet for comedic effect and my favorite by far, a cutely naughty dream I used to hook the reader into believing that my character is having a steamy poolside affair with a hunky foot masseuse whose name she can’t quite recall. I don’t use them to further the plot, or wrap up a story, but dreams are in almost all my stories at some point and time.

Why am I drawn to use them time and again? I have some vivid ones myself, especially during that state between sleep and waking when the imagination roams wild and free but awake enough so I don’t get those dreams with say a purple elephant like the one in the picture that speaks German in them, which jolt me awake and make me say. "Huh?" I either don't remember my dreams and am left with strange impressions that don't make much sense, but leave me vaguely disquieted or else I am haunted by them for days. Once in a blue moon, I have nightmares, though nothing as freaky as the painting shown above. If I have to have a motif, why not eels or ostriches? Why dreams?

A very dear friend did a reading for me once and told me I was the King of Cups. Now while it’s good to be king (uh huh thank ya thank ya verra much) I didn’t understand what it meant, except I was in charge, and I liked that! Then she explained that it meant I’m a visionary or a dreamer. Well, that explains my preoccupation for the nocturnal transmissions, huh?

Are other authors drawn to particular themes in their books, or am I the only sucker for sameness? While I never use them as a plot device, I like the un-reality of them, the whimsy in some cases, the contrast in others. The way they jolt the character and/or the reader out of their comfort zone, shifting them somewhere else.

For many, like mystics, and wise men and women, dreams or visions have been used as a form of travel albeit temporary to other places or even planes of existence. The only traveling I do with my ‘dream theme’ is page to page, chapter to chapter. I just hope my quirky ‘dream theme’ gives my stories a touch of whimsy that the readers will enjoy as much as I do.

Dream On,

Jenna Leigh

Just Breathe

What is inspiration? Loosely it means stimulation of the mind or emotions to a high level of feeling or activity. Literally, the word inspiration means breathed upon. Sounds a little strange at first, but think about it. If someone breathes in your ear, the hair goes up on the back of your neck and your skin tingles. For someone, like me, who writes romances, that sounds right up my alley.

But where do you get inspiration? Perhaps from the oft credited, yet never seen muses? More grownups seem to believe in these wearers of long gauzy gowns than ever believed in the fat bearded one as children. I'd hire PR person the spot, because for women who don’t get out much, everybody knows who they are. Well, sort of, because, basically, there’s only nine muses (ten if you count Sappho) and how many writers in the world? I don’t know much about math, but well, that just doesn’t add up to me.

Back to inspiration, how do you make sure it’s the good kind of breath? Let’s face it, those muses are busy creatures, they’d find it amusing (pun intended) to give your work a little halitosis. While you're scrambling around freshening it up, they'd be free to finally finish their own novels.

Now that I've uncovered the muses' plots to dominate the writing world, blogging may be the only writing I’ll ever do again, somehow, I don’t think so. Inspiration comes from within, from without, from all around. Music, movies, the people I meet on the street are fodder for what I write. What doesn’t inspire me is an easier to question to ask. The answer is, nothing yet. Even silence does, because I find that it makes my thoughts start to whirl just to fill it. So, whether you’re an artist, an author, a singer, songwriter, poet, or the person who cleans the toilets at the local McDonald’s, everybody needs something to inspire you to do your best. Find out what it is, and go with it.

Jenna Leigh

Dancing With Wolves

The fact that you could be dancing with somone who changes into a wolf and not even know it is what lots of paranormals are all about, when you get right down to it. In fact, I have have my hero and heroine out on the dancefloor, albeit briefly in The Wolf's Heart.

While Lainey figures out pretty quick that Marcus is hotter than a 2-dollar pistol, she doesn't know he changes into a wolf for a long time. He's adept at hiding his true nature behind his good ole' boy Southern charm, and it doesn't hurt that they've known one another since they were kids either.

I wrote Wolf's Heart's heroine with this thought in mind: What would you do if you found out the man who lay beside you at night, made you laugh, sigh, and yes, danced you off your feet, went furry every month? When she does find out are somewhat loud with threats of violence to certain parts of Marcus' anatomy. LOL.

The best part of any story of course, is the journey from point A to point B, at least to me, getting there is half the fun. Marcus wants her, but thinks they're too different. His wolf has a different point of view..in his mind or in The Wolf's Heart, there's never been anyone but her. He'll allow his other half to make mistake after mistake, knowing this one fact: to err is human, to forgive canine.

Have a great Wednesday!

Jenna Leigh

Confessions of a Cover Lover

Warning! Brag blog to follow! Ok, not really, well, maybe a tad. And not on me, much, just on Anne Cain who gave me the lovely cover you see above. The Wolf's Heart is my first, but hopefully not my last, release from Samhain.

As the title indicates, it's about werewolves, but mine aren't the usual cursed ones who shy away from civilization, raising their fists to the heavens and bemoaning their fates. No, they live among humans, only leaving civilized society to shift and revel in the freedom of their other forms. I try to make them as normal in other ways as I can besides being a bit crazy. The heroine tells the hero, Marcus, to chill, all he has is a furry version of PMS. Oh yeah, he loves that, let me tell you. I love my werewolves and the way they interact with humans, fooling them into thinking they're normal without looking down on them. Marcus likes being a wolf, loves it in fact, but he doesn't think it makes him better, just different.

I love the idea of them existing right beneath our noses. The strange, the unknown living right around the corner or in a bayou or desert. Surely if magic or extraordinary exists, then the world can't be all bad, in theory anyway. I don't know what I'd actually do if confronted by a Were in real life, besides freak out. Unless, he looked like my hero in non-furry form, then, hey, I got plenty of ideas. *wiggles brows*

Some feel that a hero/heroine can’t like their powers. I don't really agree with that. I do know that absolute power can corrupt, and I make it so there is always a struggle to keep that from happening. If you have the strength of character to be the hero or heroine of the story, surely you can control your so-called darker side, or beast so that you don't go on a rampage and start killing everyone in sight. Hey, there's always politicians and lawyers and such for that, right? Just kidding, ok not really. *winks* But, really, if you had this awesome ability to turn into another thing, like a wolf, bear, or panther, wouldn't you love it too?



Jenna Leigh
http://www.jennaleighzone.com/

A New Beginning

Hi, there, I'm Jenna, and I'm a Samhain Author. While that sounds like something from a 12-Step program, please, don't offer me a cure, because I won't accept it. I'm proud of the fact just as I am to be the one to pop Beyond the Veil's blog cherry.

As you can see from the lovely décor (thank you, Bianca), that as well as being Samhain authors, we're all paranormal authors too, which leads me to the subject of my blog. Hey, I'm doing pretty good, I got to it quick this time. Spooky huh?

The paranormal genre seems to be ever expanding and includes so many sub-genres; I'm not going to attempt to count them here. Many credit Bram Stoker with beginning our love affair with the things that go bump in the night by creating the most famous bloodsucker of them all, Dracula. His character spawned countless plays, movies, and books about him. Over the years though, he's gone from being a pale , demonic freak to a tall dark and deliciously sexy hotty that you'd beg to bite you. Now, that's progress or a good PR guy, take your pick.

However, you've heard the term, behind every man, there's a great woman, right? Well, time-wise, at least, that's true because before, Bram was born Mary Shelley wrote one of the most enduring monster stories of all times, Frankenstein. While she was inspired to write this while watching them reanimate frog legs with electricity. She also said she simply wrote what would scare her because that would scare her readers as well. As we know, her nightmare has captured and held the interest of readers and moviemakers for almost 200 years after it was written.


But, I think to find out the real beginnings, you have to look even farther back, perhaps even before written language to a time when people sat in the dark around a fire. A storyteller wove tales of curses from the gods turned men into beasts by the light of the full moon; ghosts of separated lovers that haunt certain rivers and mountain passes; beautiful mermaids caught in fishermen’s nets/or fishermen were caught by the mermaid’s song depending on how they were feeling that night. Fairies, dragons, skinwalkers, nymphs, and weres, oh my, the list is endless. From all walks of life, you have legends and myths that more than likely began as a great story over a fire. Or did they?

Paranormal can either been seen as a wonderful genre of fiction or it can be seen as a valid field of study. I myself like to take the middle road. While I know for a fact that the werewolves, dragons, vamps and freaks that I write about don’t exist outside of my own insane in the membrane mind, I can’t discount the existence of something out there that I can’t explain. Heck, I love surprises. Just let me know about them first, ok?


My question for the day is, how do you gentle and not so gentle readers think the paranormal genre has changed to reflect the changing world around us?