By
K.D. Grace (Guest Blogger)
Thanks
so much for hosting me and helping me celebrate the launch of Demon
Interrupted, Lisabet. It’s always a pleasure to spend time
at your place.
I’d
like to talk about the great contradiction that makes good paranormal
work for me, and how Demon
Interrupted,
the fourth of the Lakeland
Witches
novels, uses that contradiction. If a paranormal romance is to be
believable and work for me, I want to be almost as afraid of the hero
as I am of the villain, and I want to be almost as attracted to the
villain as I am the hero. I honestly can’t think that anyone could
really fall for a vampire or a werewolf or a ghost or a powerful
witch, or any other paranormal hero/heroine without being, at the
same time, terrified. Wouldn’t your first response always be to run
away and hide, even while you wanted to rip off your clothes and let
them shag your brains out? A part of what makes good paranormal work
is knowing that the hero or heroine could easily turn and destroy the
very thing he or she loves and longs to possess. In fact, more often
than not, the hero is really an antihero, striving to be greater than
his nature, and the more difficult the struggle, the more endearing I
find him to be.
At
first glance, none of those things apply to Ferris Ryder, my hero in
Demon Interrupted. He’s neither heroic nor villainous, nor
is he sexy or frightening. Here’s a brief description of him:
In
a room full of people Ferris could remain totally unnoticed. It was
almost as though he were invisible. He heard things that way, saw
things that others missed. Fiori suspected that was part of his
magic.
*****
His
cock was already hard, but then she had noticed that it often was. In
those times when he allowed attention to be drawn to himself, in
those times when he made his presence known he neither attempted to
hide his erection nor did he attempt to flaunt it.
*****
He
was neither large nor small. Even his cock was nothing unusual to
draw attention to itself, and yet there was no one at Elemental
Cottage who didn’t relish the thought of Ferris between their legs
…
There
are times when the only separation between the hero and the villain
is how willing they are to struggle to rise above their own flaws. Of
course that struggle to rise above flaws is nothing but the age-old
human struggle magnified many times. The fact the hero or villain in
a good paranormal romp may not only be able to rip people’s throats
out if he’s having a bad day, but very well may have done just that
at some point raises the stakes, raises the level of the tension,
raises the excitement. The lover is not safe. In fact, we may not
even be entirely sure if the lover is, indeed the hero or if he just
might be the villain. As Ferris’ story unfolds, we’re even less
sure, and yet that danger makes the sex all the hotter and the angst
all the angstier.
I
remember seeing Frank Langella’s Dracula back in the day and
wondering, as I watched the horribly delicious scene in which he
takes Lucy, even with the terrible truth of what the end result of
his sexy attentiveness to her would be, who could possibly have
refused even if they had not been under his thrall? He was a
gentleman, he was charming and mysterious, he was hypnotic, he was
gorgeous, he was terrifying. And I wanted him!
That’s
the feel I tried to create in Demon Interrupted. For
all of his unassuming, quiet ordinariness, for all his completely
un-hero-esque appearance, it very quickly becomes evident that Ferris
Ryder is not safe.
In
the hazy vision of heat he seemed larger than himself, much larger
than himself as though his arousal, their arousal together, had
released something broader of shoulder, deeper of chest, darker of
memory and, as the moon disappeared, the power of him rose like a
shadow thick and all-consuming and, somehow, other than himself. The
hair on the back of her neck rose. Gooseflesh prickled over her
breasts, even as she rocked out her orgasm against his mouth. But
before the tingle of uncertainty and the edge of fear could take
hold, the moon reappeared and unassuming Ferris gave her clit on last
hard tug with his lips and then rose over her, positioning himself,
easing her open with his knees and his hips.
Ferris
Ryder pushed his way into my imagination as a secondary character in
Riding
the Ether,
the 2nd
Lakeland novel, and it was obvious from the beginning that he was
more than he appeared to be. His story was one I knew I had to
discover. When he is offered back his dreams, his memories, his true
nature by the Fire Demon, Lucia, with whom he’s made a pact, he
refuses to take them from her, and in refusing his true nature he
must pay a terrible price, a price that affects all those he cares
about.
I
love the paranormal contrast of light and darkness and the way the
two are blended. After all there’s only awareness of one in the
presence of the other. I think the balance of fear and lust and the
highlighting of flaws through otherness, done well, is the making of
a good paranormal romance. Conflict is the main ingredient of any
good story, and when a story is paranormal, there is, by the nature
of the beast, or the demon as the case may be, more room for more
conflict. That’s a big part of the fun.
Thanks
again for having me over, Lisabet! And please, lovely readers, don’t
forget to enter to win the Amazon Gift Card.
Blurb
Ferris
Ryder has a choice to make. He can reclaim the past, which he now
consciously keeps from his memories, or he can let all that he fears
to remember destroy the present and the Elemental Coven he has come
to love. Has the mysterious Elaine come into his life to be his
guiding angel or will she tear his world apart, along with that of
his coven family?
Excerpt
‘What
the hell?’ Ferris roared like an angry beast as he fought his way
out of a blackberry bramble to land hard with his naked arse on the
rocky ground. The thick summer night effervesced with the tingle of
strong magic, and the sting and bite of the bramble were evidence
that he had been called, very unceremoniously, into physical form,
but who would have treated him with such disrespect? And other than
Lucia, the Fire Demon, and the demon who now possessed that evil
aberration spawned in the Americas -- what was it he called himself
Deacon -- there were few who could have done such a thing. Besides,
what would either of them want with him? And certainly it behoved
them to treat him with a little more respect than to up-end him
bare-arsed and bleeding in a thicket. Whoever had done it, when he
found them, they would be sorry for humiliating him so. He would make
certain that they …
The
yelp of a female voice put a halt to thoughts of punishing the
transgressor. As he turned, the dance of firelight dazzling his eyes
made him think for a moment that it was Lucia, who had summoned him.
The Fire Demon’s sense of humour was evil at best. But the flames
were nothing more than a tiny blaze set in an insignificant fire pit.
And then he saw her. Beyond the blaze the woman stood as naked as he
was with lustrous dark hair that hung down her back and over the
swell of her breasts. He would not have imagined it to be possible,
but the slender woman, body burnished golden in the firelight was the
source of the magic that had summoned him.
‘What
do you want, little girl, and why have you called me in such an
uncivilised manner?’ He said, making his voice as thunderous as
possible and pulling the shadows around him like a cape because it
lent him at least a little of the dignity she had stolen from him.
But
she did not cower. Instead she squared her shoulders and stood to her
full height, which, as with most mortal women, was not significant
compared to his. ‘I am no little girl, Rider, and I have summoned
you to do my bidding.’
Though
he made no effort to hold back the roar of his laughter, the mortal
did not so much as cringe. ‘You summoned me to do your bidding,
little one? You are either very brave or very stupid.’ With a
sudden flick of his wrist the wind rose and swirled around her,
whipping her hair across her face and then back over her shoulders,
and he saw that she was, indeed, no little girl. Her breasts were in
the full bloom of womanhood crowned by roseate nipples that peaked in
the cool kiss of the wind he had summoned. His cock rose in response
to her, and for the first time since his unceremonious arrival, he
was pleased to be in physical form. This human, this mortal woman was
delicate of build, skin as pale as the finest porcelain, skin that
seemed lit from within, skin that contrasted with hair that was night
itself and eyes that were like a moonless sky. Her hips flared away
from her center as though they hugged the soft pillowing of dark
curls that caressed her womanhood, and she stood unladylike, with her
feet set wide apart on the ground so that even his tempest did not
unbalance her.
‘I
am neither brave nor stupid,’ she said, when the wind settled
enough that she could catch her breath to speak. ‘I am without
recourse.’
He
moved closer to her, so that the fire did not interfere with his
vision of her, and still she did not flinch. ‘You must be
desperate, indeed, if you would summon a Soul Rider to do your
bidding.’
She
ignored his statement. ‘You have it within your power to visit
horrible hallucinations upon those who displease you, do you not? It
is within your power to drive them form their sanity, and it is said
that you have power even to drive them to their death. Is that not
so?’
He
moved still closer, until he could see the rapid rise and fall of her
chest that belied the nerves she hid so well, until he could feel her
warm breath against the body that now held his essence. ‘Shall I
demonstrate that of which I am capable upon you, little one?’ As he
reached for her, she stepped back.
‘I
do not need your demonstration, Rider. I only need you to use those
powers in my service.’
This
time he stepped close enough that she had to bend her slender neck
back as far as she could to look up into his eyes. ‘And might I ask
what’s in it for me?’
‘Anything.’
Her breath caught in her throat and for the first time he felt the
passion of her request with the intensity of the powerful magic she
had just performed and what that magic had cost her. And was that
passion tinged with more than a hint of despair? ‘Anything you
ask.’
‘And
if you are the payment I demand?’
Her
eyelids fluttered and her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘As
I have said. Anything you ask.’
That
she did not frighten easily, that she was braver than most men who
had, ultimately, cowered before him made him want to taste her fear
all the more. ‘Then I shall have you.’ He pulled her to him and
took her mouth, not expecting the full pout of her lips to part for
him, not expecting her body to relax and soften into his embrace nor
her arms to encircle his neck. As his tongue flicked over hers, he
was stunned to find it was not fear he tasted; it was power,
exhilaration, need, mixed again with a heavy patina of desperation,
and all of those tastes in this woman made him want her even more.
His cock stretched hard, pressed against the tensing muscles of her
belly. The pillowed press of her breasts against him in her battle
for breath made him want to take more of her breath, so that the
pumping of her lungs would keep her fullness rising and falling and
nestling against him.
He
unclenched her fingers from behind his neck and guided her hand down
between them, down to rest on his cock. ‘It has been long since I
have worn flesh. My need is nearly beyond my control. It may well be
that I would split your fragile frame in two, little girl.’
Before
the words were off his tongue, she circled his hardness with slender,
but strong fingers, and began to stroke the length of him, whispering
in his ear. ‘I told you, whatever you asked, and I am not nearly so
fragile as you might think.’ But then the brazen child did
something he could have never anticipated. She stepped out of his
embrace, back just enough that he could not easily touch her. ‘But
I am not yours for the taking until you have done my bidding, Rider.
Then split me in two, you may, or in a thousand pieces if it please
you.’
He
growled his frustration, and his cock bucked against his belly. ‘I
do not need your permission to take you, little one.’ He took a
menacing step closer to her, and she stepped back again until she
stood flush with the bramble behind her. ‘Nor do I need to do your
bidding. After all, your invitation was not very polite, now was it?’
‘There
was no invitation, Demon. There was a summoning and a bargain to be
struck.’
‘Again,
I will ask you why should I not take what I want now rather than
wait. I am the one who --’
His
words died in his throat as her power buzzed over him, a bolt of
lightning and a touch of silk and he sucked breath to keep from
humiliating himself as the content of his balls threatened to spill
at her feet. Though in truth, he was not sure that perhaps it was his
very life force that this woman, this witch threatened to coax from
his cock with her magic. He raised his hands, palms facing her, in a
gesture of peace. ‘Tell me then, what is it you want, little
witch.’
She
studied him for a moment with eyes bottomless as the night sky. ‘I
want you to ride the soul of my enemy. Make him suffer long and hard,
make him pay for what he has done. If this you do for me, then I am
yours to do with what you will.’
‘Are
you sure this is a price you can afford to pay, little witch?’ With
a move that was no more human than he was, he pulled her into his
arms and fisted her thick mane of soft hair and shoved it off her
shoulders, seeking to admire the delicacy of the mortal form, as one
did art in a gallery -- beautiful creations that were far too fragile
for any practical purpose. Their fragility in itself a part of their
attraction, and his ability to break them somehow made them even more
valuable to him. With his eyes shut, he tracked the beat of her pulse
to the soft spot on her throat, then bent to nuzzle her there, and
just as she moaned a sigh, he bit her in that spot against the thud,
thud, thud of her tenuous life force.
At
first he thought the near sob that breeched her lips was a release of
her pleasure, disappointingly easy, he thought. It was as he opened
his eyes that he saw the bruises on her neck, green and angry in the
dance of the flames, and he realised the sob had been one of pain.
Though he was no fire demon, the thought of his little witch -- for
that is how he thought of her now, as his possession -- the thought
of her in pain kindled a strange inferno in his belly that burned
with the same rage he would have felt if someone had so marred the
Mona Lisa’s perfection. ‘Who did this to you?’ Even as he
spoke, he noticed other bruises on her arms, on her hips … on the
insides of her thighs. ‘Who did this to you,’ he growled.
She
shoved her way free from his embrace and stumbled backward nearly
falling before she caught herself. He could taste the rage rolling
off her, overpowering the desperation, overpowering the longing,
overpowering all else to the point that it was he who was rendered
breathless by it. ‘The one whose soul I wish you to ride, the one
who I seek revenge upon. He did this to me and more than even your
demon eyes can ever see. He took everything from me, and I want him
to pay! I want him to pay!’
When
she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not
gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s
serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast
across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For
her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears
out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading,
watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.
KD
has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins
Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace,Sweetmeats Press and
others.
K
D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The
Initiation of Ms Holly,
Fulfilling
the Contract,
To
Rome with Lust,
and The
Pet Shop.
Her paranormal erotic novel, Body
Temperature and Rising,
the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as
honorable mention on Violet
Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011.
Books two and three, Riding
the Ether,
and Elemental
Fire,
are now also available.
K
D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace
Marshall.
An
Executive Decision,
Identity
Crisis,
The
Exhibition,
Interviewing
Wade
are all available.
Find
K D Here
GIVEAWAY!
Make
sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout,
the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates
are here:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
