Well, it's been a week since I left that place

and I have to admit to missing it somewhat. I loved the people and I loved the public feedback. I guess it's gotten easier but I will say, if it wasn't for you guys, I don't think I'd have been able to leave. I've managed to write two new chapters this week, one for Bloodstone and one that I just finished for Charisma. It isn't out yet but should be soon. I hope you like it. I also sent out two new manuscripts this week, one to Ellora's Cave and the other to Phaze. So wish me luck.

One last thing for tonight

I feel sorry for BostonFictionWriter. I don't think he knew what he was up against when he took me on. I mean, you guys have been wonderful sticking up for me and all, but I think it's time to bury the hatchet, and not in his skull. Let's let the poor little man write his diatribe. We don't have to read it. He got his fifteen minutes of being infamous. Let's leave him alone now.

Thanks again for being true and loyal readers and fans.

Danielle

Well there is one good thing about all of this

It's given me time to edit some of my work and get it ready to be sent out to publishers. I sent out a manuscript tonight. Wish me luck. It would be a real coup to get published by Ellora's Cave I've tried twice before and never heard back from them, let's hope the third time is the charm.

To set the story straight in my own words

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I am so EXCITED!!!!

No, not just about leaving Literotica, though I am excited about that. No, this has to do with the cover art for my newest book. You'll be able to find it on http://www.phaze.com/ next month.

The story is called Messages of Love and revolves around Ian and Ashley and their relationship in a series of flashbacks to show their love. Ian is trapped in a building elevator, the building just having been blown up. Ashley is trying desperately to find him and is using text messages to stay in touch. Will he be rescued or are their Messages of Love all they'll have left?

Here's the cover done by Alessia Brio. Isn't she fabulous?

A New Hunter Novel Unusual Circumstances

“So? How do I look?” Brett Hunter stood in the doorway of Dillon’s home in Lansing, modeling his uniform as Rylie Hunter looked on, a big smile on her face.

“You look like the poster boy for the Police Academy,” Dillon growled, though softly as he held his children in his arms. Rayne, his daughter, had the blonde hair of her mother but her baby blue eyes were changing slowly to the amber color of her father. She would be golden and lovely when she grew up, of that he had no doubt. His son, Chase, had the dark hair of the Hunter clan and also showed the slight hint of amber in his baby blue eyes. Dillon couldn’t be prouder of the two then he was.

But now he was grumpy. “I can’t believe that I give you this cushy job, almost running my agency here in Michigan and you throw it away for a job in law enforcement. What’s wrong with you, boy?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Brett asked. “You’d think the time we spent with Mackenzie and Gideon would have taught you something, Dillon. To tell you the truth, if Mac hadn’t stood up to you the way she had, I don’t know if I’d have been able to leave the agency. This is something I’ve always wanted to do and with the background you’ve given me, Dillon, I have a head start on getting my detective’s badge. You know us Hunters, we either become cops or we marry them.” He rubbed at a small smudge on the gleaming badge that decorated his chest. “Can’t you wish me well and leave it at that?”

Rylie moved toward him, her body once more lithe and firm after having the twins. She rose on tip toe, feeling Dillon’s eyes on her as she kissed Brett’s cheek. “He’s behind you, Brett. You know he is.”

“Yeah, I can feel the knife he’s pushing into my back,” Brett grumped. But he managed a smile for his cousin in law. “I just don’t know how you handle him and his high handed ways twenty-four/seven.”

“It takes patience and training,” Rylie joked, reaching up to smooth down his collar and twitch at the knot on his tie.

“It’s a clip-on, Rye,” Dillon said, rising with the sleeping babies in his arms. “They don’t let cops wear big boy ties.” He handed Chase to his wife, watching her deftly maneuver the baby to her shoulder before handing her Rayne. “I’ll be up in a second to help you put them down for their naps,” he said, his eyes softening as he gazed with love at the three people who made up his world. “I just need to speak to Brett for a minute, okay?”

Rylie narrowed her blue eyed gaze at him. He could read the warning in her eyes and flinched. Play nice or sleep on the couch, he could almost read it. He nodded. He’d play nice because in his heart, he only had Brett’s best interests.

He waited until Rylie left the room. “Brett,” he began, looking down at his cousin. “I only want what’s best for you, if you think that joining the police department is it, well then I’ll have to respect that. Just remember, Rylie and I are here for you if you ever need us for anything, that includes your old job back, okay?”

Brett nodded. “Don’t hold your breath though,” he warned Dillon.

“I am proud of you, you know,” Dillon said as he watched the younger man turn away and head for the door.

“What was that?” Brett asked, his eyes wide as he turned back around. “You’re going to have to repeat that. I don’t think I heard you straight.”

“Don’t be a smart ass,” Dillon growled. “Uniform or not, I can still knock your ass down.”

“Yes sir,” Brett teased, ducking backward as Dillon took a step forward. “I’m going to be late,” he said, grabbing the keys of the car that he’d used as Dillon’s assistant off stand in the entryway. “I’ll call later,” he promised. “Tell Rylie I said thanks and I’ll be quiet coming in so I don’t wake the twins.”

Dillon sighed as he watched his tall cousin head out the door, his duffle in his hand, ready to take on a new world, or at least his little corner of it. “A cop,” he said, disgust in his voice. “He had to become a cop.”

“Watch it, buddy,” Rylie said, wrapping her arms around her husband from behind. “You married one of those, remember?”

“There’s a difference, you’re a fed, not just a patrol cop.”

“Brett won’t be a patrol cop long, Dillon.” She ducked under his arm, coming around to lean against his chest and let him hold her weight. She sighed tiredly, resting her head against his neck and feeling his lips touch her temple. “He’s got the bug, and he’s got the experience to climb the ladder quickly. He saw some of the worst of life working at your agency, being on the streets will take the rest of that innocence away.”

“You sound like you think that is a bad thing,” Dillon said as he watched Brett back out and take off in a cloud of dust.

Bloodstone--an excerpt

The tiny village was wrapped in slumber. Its thick walls were secured keeping out the beasts and those who sought to harm them. Inside the walls, small shacks made of thatch were closest, forming a ring around the bigger and nicer houses that held the dignitaries and those in power or who had money. In the very center of the village was the Mayor’s home, a multi story dwelling that held the Mayor and his fat wife as well as their beautiful daughter.

The attack came at night while the village slept, the watchers on the wall too much at ease since it had been so quiet of late. One lone scout slunk through the shadows toward the center of the village, finding the home of the mayor of the small village. He came in through an unbarred window, slicing at the mayor’s sleeping form. He woke for just an instant, just as the intruder sliced his throat, leaving him gurgling in his own blood.

His wife fared little better, though she slept through the attack, not even flinching when a sword was thrust through her heart. He left them there, blood dripping from their wounds, soaking through the linen bed clothes and puddling on the rush covered floor of the house.

His eyes wandered through the richly appointed rooms, searching for the most treasured of items in the house. He found her, a young girl of eighteen summers sound asleep in her bed. A smile formed upon his mottled face, his skin gray, his hair oily and wispy around his ears.

She was beautiful, golden and pink and cream, her skin flawless, slightly rosy with sleep. Her breasts rose and fell in sleep under the linen shift that she wore. It clung to her curves as she’d kicked off the blankets, molding to her rounded hips and giving hint to the color of her nipples in the light of the fire that burned brightly in her room.

Clasping a hand over her mouth, the scout lifted her in his arms, binding her in the blankets so that she could not move. He carried the girl quickly and easily through the house, slipping out the front door and keeping to the shadows.

He was in and out so quickly that his presence was like a nightmare. A shadowed dream, slipping through the night to haunt minds and terrify children. His burden barely registered upon his mind, set as it was to do his master’s bidding. Even as she kicked and squirmed in his arms, he never lost sight of that goal, to bring the girl to his master for she was the only thing that stood between him and achieving his dream.

The road flew behind him as he ran lightly down the paths outside the gates of the village. The moon touched the night with an aura of silver, creating patterns of evil creatures from the shadows of the bare trees. He passed them by with nary a glance, running, always running.

The stitch in his side was like a mighty cramp and his breath whistled coming from lungs over taxed but he dared not stop. Night was quickly coming to an end and he could not be found on these paths with the sun’s dawning.

“Quit,” he hissed at the bundled girl. “Quiet or I shall find a way to make you quiet.”

The girl, though slight, was strong. She fought against her captor, kicking and flaying, tossing her head until the blanket loosed around her mouth. Then she screamed, a sound full of rage and terror.

“I killed your parents, girl, not much would stop me from gutting you as well,” he hissed.

The threat, instead of halting her wriggling, set her determination. She managed to uncover her hands, her breath showing white in the cold night air as she pushed and hit at the ugly man who held her captive.

*to read more, go to one of my story pages. Thanks for reading me.