I’ve never been particularly afraid of change. I know some people are–some of my siblings certainly are–but I think maybe because of my life’s slightly nomadic structure, change is something I’m okay with. It can be refreshing or challenging or even exciting. Sometimes, yes, it can suck, but even that can bring with it something wonderful you never would have found otherwise (such as my parents divorcing and my mother moving us to the smallest horsetown she could find…which led me to find my husband!) So, I guess you can say I’m an optimist when it comes to changes. Which might also explain why I write in a variety of genres–contemporary, romantic comedy, erotic romance and now, with my upcoming release from Carina Press…paranormal
Of course, it might seem like I’ve suddenly jumped the shark by diving into the deep waters of paranormal romance, but honest, I’ve been a fan for years. Probably all my life, actually, as some of my earliest favorite books were all Lois Duncan novels, queen of teen ESP novels. I was utterly fascinated with how she weaved suspense and romance and supernatural threads into her books so seamlessly. Never once thought I could do it, either. I mean, come on, she’s Lois Duncan. And if I couldn’t compare, I could still admire from a distance, right?
Then I started reading Stephen King. Is there a better dialogue-for-character writer in all the world? I mean, the man takes writing speech to a whole new level of real. Dialects, colloquialisms, even cadence of speech all appear in his novels and never in such a way as to tear you from a book. And if you’re familiar with his work, you can probably guess which of his is my favorite… Yup, “The Dead Zone”, the story of a man who wakes from a seven year coma to discover he’s an unparalleled psychic through the power of touch. I dream of being able to write speech like that man, but again, I couldn’t possibly write about psychics. At least, that’s what I told myself. I mean, I write comedy, mostly. And loving what you read doesn’t always mean writing what you read…right?
Years went by and while I always managed to find a romantic ghost story here and there, in the last five years or so, my addiction has been happily fed by an explosion of new paranormal stories. I began inhaling paranormal books like they were the last donuts on earth. Sherilyn Kenyon? Fabulous Candy. Kresley Cole? Delicious Decadence. Nalini Singh? GODIVA.
So it shouldn’t have been a shock to me when one day, as I faced a kitchen full of dishes, that I really wanted to kill someone. (And really, that part wasn’t a shock.) But not just anyone. I wanted to kill a shifter. And when it comes down to it, between dishes and murder, murder is more likely to win, so I grabbed a pen and my notebook and began scribbling. It started something like this…
Shae trudged through the snowdrifts, her feet sinking nearly to the knee with each step. Cold seeped into her bones, but she didn’t dare stop. Holding the bundle high against her chest, she pushed harder. It wasn’t far now. Another mile through the trees. Maybe less.
If only she knew what chased her. It had been following, though she couldn’t say how closely, since she left the road. That she knew of. It could have been following since the last checkpoint, even, and only revealed itself now. Sparing another fearful glance over her shoulder, she looked past the mist of her own breath on the night air for some sign of the person, maybe even the thing, that had come with her into the forest.
Nothing.
But she sensed it… Just because she couldn’t smell it or see it in the shadows of the black trees or hear it crunching through the white snow didn’t mean it wasn’t there. She could feel it. It was nothing good.
I got excited, completely gave up on the dishes (yeah, that was unexpected) and tuned out everything but this shifter and the mysterious stalking danger. Plus, the nagging question in the back of my mind needed an answer–where is she going that she needs a checkpoint?
She made it five more steps before the first sound scared her nearly out of her skin. An angry hissing roar that echoed in her ears long seconds after it passed. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the sound had circled her, inches from her face. She had only time to gasp, her throat preparing to scream, and it was gone.
Panting, adrenaline rushing like an overflowing river through her veins, Shae did the only thing she could think of. She ran.
Arms tight around the baby, she skidded, crunched and sloshed through the snow, barely finding solid ground before she rushed to the next step.
Too much noise.
She wanted to obey the Instinct, but fear ruled her. This hunter was no pack of lustful wolves. Not even a death squad determined to end her. She didn’t know what this was, but it was toying with her. She lurched backward at another hissing threat from between two trees, already changing direction.
South. Head south.
Half a mile. That was all. But Shae could feel the truth in her soul as the terrifying noise struck her spine, the sensation more frigid than the snow, nearly overturning her again. She wouldn’t reach the last stop on the Underground, wouldn’t have the chance to plead with the new Alpha she’d heard about. The one rebuilding the packs. To have come so far, escaped being caught over and over again because the dream of safety—a future for her child—kept her going despite the dragging hunger and exhaustion, only to know she’d never had a chance to get there tore the few remaining pieces of her soul.
She pulled the strap at her shoulder, loosening the bundle. There wasn’t much time left. She was almost to the cottage. A few hundred yards more and the Alpha would hear her if she screamed. He’d hear, but not with enough time to do anything about it. The animosity she tasted in the air wouldn’t end in anything but death. Her last seconds, though, would be spent ensuring that the only death would be her own.
So, about here, I realize…whoa, this idea is getting a little bigger than you first thought. You sure you want to go on with this? I could honestly hear the commitment chain clinking it’s way over to manacle my ankle. If I started this…I’d not only have to finish a paranormal, I’d have to make it believable. *HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE gulp*
The pause only lasted about twenty seconds. Whatever story Shae was drawing me into, I wanted to hear. Truth is, the manacle had clanked around me with the first line and I had to know what would become of poor Shae and her baby…
She pulled the baby free, spotting a small gap between two roots of a nearby tree. She yanked off her wrap and added the layers around the infant. Her bag joined the small, pitiful pile. It would have to be enough. She didn’t take even the time to say goodbye. She simply ran.
The sounds, ricocheting like echoes in a cave, nipped at her heels, pelting her like stones. Still, she ran. The pressure came from the left, then the right, broadsiding her with force enough to send her spiraling into the snow. She didn’t care. As long as it followed her, the baby had a chance. Instinct demanded she roll onto her knees, scramble forward and move again.
Shift.
She considered it. The Instinct was never wrong, but it was striving to keep her alive. If she shifted, she might outrun this hunter, but who knew if she’d be fast enough to circle back in time to save the baby from his wrath. No. She remained in human form.
Icy air surged in and out of her lungs, burning and sharp as blades in her throat. Is this punishment? she wondered in the back of her mind. For not wanting the child that had been forced on her? She’d done her best; it wasn’t good enough. She was weak and couldn’t protect the pup.
She crested the last hill, able to see a cottage in the distance. Smoke rose from the chimney, steady and dark. Relief surged through her.
No, not punishment. This was a chance to save the baby. The last gift she’d been given in this harsh existence she’d known. The Alpha would make sure her daughter knew a better one.
Before she could take another step, something grabbed her arm, spinning her around. Her eyes went wide in horror at the sight in front of her. She’d known it wasn’t human, but she’d never imagined this.
The scream that tore from her lips was not from fear. Her body jerked at the impact of the bones in her chest breaking, sinews and flesh tearing in a single, vicious strike. Blood speckled her lips, dripping from her chin even as life left her eyes.
Her body fell in a discarded heap. The snow beneath her turned dark, melting under the heat of the still-warm flow. Moments later, half of her heart dropped to the ground, forgotten.
Sigh. That was it. I was hooked. I just had to find out who this Alpha was. Who were these death squads? Who or what had killed her? Harder yet…how on earth would I find someone who could stop whatever it was?
Unfortunately, stories don’t always answer your questions right away. At least I had dishes to keep my hands busy while I mulled through it, right?
The good news is, The Alpha didn’t keep me waiting. And neither did his heroine. In fact, they pretty much took over my life for a few months. Being a paranormal fan, I really didn’t mind. Kids and family, yeah, they kinda did, but it was worth it once they convinced me to send the novel in for consideration. (ie: pried it from my white-knuckled grip and mailed it because they hadn’t put up with my fevered writing to the exception of all else if I wasn’t going to get over myself and at least attempt to reach my dream of finally, truly, writing a paranormal romance.) When Carina Press picked it up, well, all my dark dreams came true. Or they will on June 14th, when Tempting The Enemy is released. 
Now if I can just get my other dream of having a fully-organized house running smoothly…
***
Dee Tenorio has a few reality issues.
After much therapy for the problem—if one can call being awakened in the night by visions of hot able-bodied men a problem—she has proved incurable. It turns out she enjoys tormenting herself by writing sizzling, steamy romances of various genres spanning paranormal mystery dramas, contemporaries and romantic comedies. Preferably starring the sexy, somewhat grumpy heroes described above and smart-mouthed heroines who have much better hair than she does.
The best part is, no more therapy bills!
Well, not for Dee anyway. Her husband and kids, on the other hand…
If you would like to learn more about Dee and her work, please visit her website at www.deetenorio.com or her blog at http://www.deetenorio.com/Blog/.
**reminder: Commenting on an author’s blog entry/entries for the day will enter you to win a digital copy of their Carina Press title. One winner daily. Commenting on any of the Countdown entries will enter you into the big giveaway for a Carina Press promo prize pack. One winner at end of Countdown.**
I have always been fascinated by all things from myth and legend. The first book I ever bought ( for 75 cents, which made considerable inroads in my allowance at age eight) was “Fifty Famous Fairy Tales,” and I skipped through numberous enclycopedias for items about gods and goddesses, fairies and folk beliefs, and all things supernatural.
Here’s the blurb:
So I cast about for a new title. Then I came across a Henry Fielding quote (Fielding was the author of the brilliant ‘Tom Jones’): ‘Love and scandal are the best sweetners of tea.’ I knew that was it, so my novel became Love & Scandal, since it speaks of both of those things.
Detective Pale Rysen, an Alpha, is determined to secretly rebuild the Wolf packs from the ashes of genocide. So when a killer starts picking off young females looking for sanctuary, it’s his job to protect them. Forced to work with a hated enemy, he fears his cover is about to be blown.