|Posted by Brenda Dyer on July 11, 2012 at 2:40 AM||comments (3)|
|Posted by Brenda Dyer on April 21, 2012 at 12:15 PM||comments (1)|
Anyway, Kal let off a couple of bottle rockets in the house--Soren and I didn't hear them because of the music, but Roarik did. Kal had placed a bottle rocket on the table beside Soren--without us knowing--shows you how drunk we were. *Laughs.* Roarik barges in and screams bloody murder about us letting off fireworks in the house. Of course Soren and I had no clue what he was flipping out about. The next day Kal tells us what he did.
|Posted by Brenda Dyer on April 15, 2012 at 12:05 PM||comments (2)|
Mel materialized in front of her. She jumped to her feet, her heart beating double time against her ribs. She pressed a hand to her chest. “Will you quit doing that? You're going to give me a heart attack. Can't you use the front door like a normal person?”
He laughed and drew her into his arms. “What would be the fun in that? I like keeping you on your toes.”
Breeana smiled and slid her hands under the flaps of his leather jacket. The leather creaked as his embrace tightened. She smoothed her palms up his hard muscular back and kissed the underside of his clean shaven jaw. The scent of his cologne and his warm skin heated her blood and her desire.
“You like keeping me on my toes, huh?” she asked.
He tilted her chin up until their gazes met. “Among other positions.” His voice was low, husky, and his irises darkened.
|Posted by Brenda Dyer on April 9, 2012 at 2:00 AM||comments (0)|
This is taken from my current WIP, Prophecy's Child. In these sentences Katherine has ran into Kal--literally--after ten years. He still has the same erotic pull on her.
Katherine’smouth dropped open and butterflies took flight in her stomach. Lucky she was flat on her ass because her limbs shook so hard she’d have ended up in the same position. “Kal? It can’t be…”
She closed her eyes, then quickly opened them, needing to make sure his appearance wasn’t simply a hallucination brought on by stress.
But there was no mistaking it, Kal stood in front of her, all six foot four inchesof well muscled, testosterone dripping, male. His black leather covered shoulders were so wide, they blocked out the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. Faded jeans hugged his long, finely formed legs. He was perfection standing in a pair of black hiking boots.
|Posted by Brenda Dyer on January 29, 2012 at 12:20 PM||comments (33)|
These sentences are taken from my novel, Love's Prophecy.
In the scene before this, Mel told Breeana vampires are real. In these sentences they are just sitting down for breakfast and a discussion on where vampires came from and why they share the Earth with humans.
Poor Breeana can't seem to keep her mind on anything but Mel's body, LOL.
“Drag the chair over and come eat,” Mel said with a smile.
Breeana didn't move. His biceps flexed, bulking up with his movements, and the muscles of his chest bunched when he reached for a fork.
Damn him. Human or vampire, he was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen. The sight of his bare, smooth skin and hard muscles, coupled with his rugged unshaven face, was too much of a temptation. One she knew she couldn't resist.
|Posted by Brenda Dyer on January 28, 2012 at 11:25 AM||comments (14)|
This sample is taken from my novel Love's Prophecy. In this scene, Mel has told Breeana about the murder of his wife and all who lived in the village he had been the leader of. Although he didn't tell her all.
As Mel stared into Breeana's trusting face, the sound of his father's evil laugh filled his mind, echoing through his skull.
“Look at her,” his father's demented voice said. “What a pathetic fool she is. She's so quick to absolve you of all guilt, but you know better don't you, son? Go ahead, tell her. Tell her how you honored your father. Would she look at you the same if she knew? Would she be so quick to defend you if she knew you are a murderer?”
Fear paralyzed Mel’s limbs.
“What's the matter, son? Do it, I dare you.” His father's evil laugh became louder and louder until that was all he heard. “Tell her who's really to blame for your wife's murder.”
Breeana stepped up against his body, wrapping her arms around him.Her warmth seeped into his stiff limbs, instantly cutting off his father's voice. She pressed a cheek over his heart. While she held him, his tremors slowed then stopped, his mind cleared and a feeling of calm enveloped him.
She looked up at him and brushed his hair off his forehead. “Did you get the bastards who murdered your wife?”
A fierce light shone in her eyes. He caressed her cheek. “Yeah, I did. It took me over a month but yeah, I destroyed them.”
“I'm glad,” she said without hesitation.
His chest tightened as love swelled his heart, spilled over, and invaded his scarred, lonely soul.
“I know the circumstances are less than ideal, but I'm glad I met you. I'll never regret the time we've shared,” she said.
His eyes burned and a lump formed in his throat. “Breeana.” He crushed her to him, molding her to his body. She had no idea how her words affected him. How wonderful it felt to hear someone say the death of his wife—of them all—wasn't entirely his fault, even though he knew it was. Shame over being the only survivor of his village had burned him for so long. Her words helped douse the pain, if for only a moment.
Her cool hands smoothed over his back. “I know I don't know all the facts, but one thing I do know is you're a good man—I mean vampire.”
Love for her flowed through him, almost taking him to his knees. “If you believe that, then you're deranged,” he whispered, against her hair.
“Maybe, but I pride myself on being able to read peoples' hearts and you my friend, have a good one.” She leaned back in his embrace, stretched upon her toes and kissed him.
When she broke off their kiss, Mel wrapped himself around her once more. At that very moment, he could honestly say he was happy. Happy he had chosen to live.
|Posted by Brenda Dyer on January 15, 2012 at 1:00 PM||comments (19)|
Set up: Mel has just learned Kal has killed the demon hunting for Breeana. It is now safe for Mel to take her home, but he's torn.
“Yep.” Mel could hardly squeeze the word through his constricted throat. He grabbed the bottle and walked back to the living room.
“She wants to stay with you, dude,” Kal said.
Mel stopped in front of the TV and stared at the blank screen. “It's over. I knew as soon as it was safe, she'd be going back to her life.”
“Yeah, see, that's great and all, but things have changed. I see how much you two care for each other. And believe me, man, that's something you shouldn't lightly toss away.”
Red hot rage burned through him. “Lightly? You think this isn't torturing me?”
“Poor choice of words—”
“Screw you.” Mel guzzled another mouthful, the burn from the alcohol brought tears to his eyes. Or was it from the pain of his heart shattering into a billion pieces? “I'm sending her back because I love her so much.”
|Posted by Brenda Dyer on November 20, 2011 at 11:30 AM||comments (12)|
Thanks for stopping by and reading my SSS--several sentence Sunday.
Set up: Katherine sees Kal for the first time in ten years after he up and left her--no explanation, just gone. Needless to say, she is angry.
Katherine crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”
Kal pulled his left hand out of his pocket and showed her a small plastic bag. “Buying a video game.”
“I mean, what are you doing in Vancouver?”
“I moved here for work. What about you?”
“That’s none of your damn business.” She pointed at his bag and smirked. “Nice to see you’re just as childish as you were years ago. Some things never changed, huh?”
His cheeks reddened and he glanced at the floor. Sighing, he rocked back and forth on his heels as he shoved the bag back into his pocket. With a flick of his head, he dislodged thick bangs out of his eyes. “Look, Katherine, I need to apologize.”
“For knocking me down? Don’t worry about it.”
A small smile tugged at his lips and sadness filled his eyes. “That too, but I’d like to apologize for the way I left things between us.”
The tenacious hold she had on her rage disintegrated. And not giving a crap that they stood in the middle of Wal-Mart with people all around, she said none too quietly, “You didn’t leave anything between us—you just left. I woke up and you were gone, which wasn’t unusual, you were never there in the mornings, but when I tried to call your cell phone, guess what? You cut the damn thing off! So please,do me a favor and keep your bullshit apologies, because I don’t want to hear them.”
|Posted by Brenda Dyer on October 30, 2011 at 1:00 PM||comments (10)|
“Bethany! Bethany, nooo!” Mel's shouts filled the darkness as he shot off the bed.
Breeana scrambled off the bed and fumbled around in the dark. Her outstretched hands skimmed over the night table until she felt the lamp. She switched it on and light bathed the room in a soft glow.
Mel stood in the center of the room. His arms thrashed about and his breath whistled out in fast erratic bursts.
“I know you did it, you murdering bastard.” He looked wildly around at no one she could see. “I know you did it.”
She ran around the bed and grabbed his flailing arms. “Mel, wake up!” She couldn't hold him. With a vicious curse, he tugged free. He backed away from her with panic-filled eyes.
Mel,” she called louder. “Wake-up. You're having a nightmare.”
|Posted by Brenda Dyer on September 3, 2011 at 11:50 AM||comments (14)|
This sample is taken from my completed WIP, Love's Prophecy.
Pain twisted Mel's gut tighter. “Breeana, I'm not asking you to give up anything.”
Her gaze was fierce. “Do you want to know what scares the shit out of me?”
She hesitated. “I would leave everything. I'd leave it all behind because I…love you.”
His heart ground to a halt when her softly spoken words filtered through his brain. An instant later, it jumped, slamming so hard against his ribs it felt like it would burst free.
She loved him? Did he hear correct?
He searched her face and saw it was true.
Joy, love, sadness, and God help him, hope added to the chaos of emotions he already felt.
He tilted her face up with a hand and kissed her hard. A kiss brimming with love, despair, and frustration, over a situation that held no other solution than heartbreak. And he sensed she experienced the same whirlpool of feelings. He felt it in her kiss, in the desperate way she gripped his shirt, and he tasted it in her tears.
He pulled back and stared into her eyes. “I love you, Breeana. The short time we've known one another, you have become my everything. My heart. My breath…My life. I was dead inside before you.”