Saturday, June 4, 2011

H.C. Brown as Pia Moonglow- Don't Press Enter

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Yeah okay so you  found out my alter ego is Pia Moonglow...don't be so shocked I wrote fantasy romance well before H.C. Brown emerged. So this is me without the heavy sex.... I really enjoyed writing this story....the warlock is a real hunk. This is  where my readers ( I love you guys) tell me they discovered  that me and Pia   are the same person LOL

A motorbike roared up the road, then came to a standstill directly
outside the building. The rider, dressed entirely in black, turned his head toward her, then slowly removed his helmet and hung it on the side mirror. His long, black hair escaped its confinement and cascaded down to his shoulders in a wave of black silk. Julia took a long breath and gazed, mouth agape, at the man's exceptionally handsome features. She met his gaze through the window. He winked and gave her a boyish grin.
Oh, crap, he saw me looking. She almost dropped dead on the spot with embarrassment but stood riveted, her gaze traveling to his broad shoulders and bulging biceps.
Julia forced her jaws to close and swallowed. His legs, encased in tight, black jeans, were long and muscular. He nonchalantly pulled out his IPod earbuds and slid from the motorbike like a long, black snake. With a toss of his magnificent hair, he headed for the door. Heart pounding, she dragged her gaze away. It took all her effort to stop her hand reaching in the desk drawer for her purse, the sudden need to apply lip-gloss paramount for survival. How could she possibly stand here a second longer? He had obviously seen her ogling him as if she had never seen a man before. No wonder he smiled, he would think her a pathetic looser. She stood and took off for the bathroom. Safely inside, she rested her hands on the washbasin and stared into the mirror at her flaming cheeks. That's right; make a fool of yourself. Boys hate girls who look desperate—well, the nice ones do anyway

Well here is  the usual Blurb and first chapter......hope you like it :-)  HC

He comes with icy breath each night, to seduce and to confuse. The demon wants Julia, and his sensual pull entices yet terrifies.Alone in the world, Julia is beginning to doubt her sanity. Who should she tell? Who can she trust?

Chapter One

So cold. Julia's breath came out in a rush of steam, her gaze drawn to the bay window. Through the gap in the open drapes, dark, angry clouds rolled across the sky, obscuring the waning moon. Frost crackled, creeping over the windowpane in a crisp, floral opaque mass. Icy tendrils slithered down her spine. Darkness smothered her like a shroud. She pulled the blankets over her shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut. No, not again . . . please . . . not again.
He was here—she knew it. So close, the familiar, sweet scent of violets filled her nostrils. Julia's throat tightened, cutting off a scream. She thrashed her head from side to side. Why can't I move my legs? A pair of glowing, red eyes loomed closer and long, sharp nails caressed her cheek. She bucked, pulled her head away, and writhed, dragging her heavier than normal body to the edge of the bed.

Breathe. She formed words in her mind and pushed them out between her lips in a whisper. "What . . . d-do y-you want?"

Laughter, deep and rumbling, rolled over her from every side. Julia's eyes opened wide and she searched the gloom. Where are you? Why are you doing this to me?

The next second, the moon burst from behind a racing, storm cloud. A ghostly, blue hue streamed through the bedroom window. Shadows danced across the room like hideous gargoyles. One remained still and menacing. Julia gasped; her heart threatened to burst through her chest. A tall figure stood at the foot of the bed, face concealed by a long, hooded cloak. One long, pale hand stretched toward her, palm up, an index finger beckoned.

"Come with me and you'll never be alone again. You need me, Julia." His deep sensual voice crooned inside her head.

Julia fought the overwhelming desire he evoked in her. This was so wrong—this was evil. Why did he make her feel this way? How? She shuddered. I won't go with you. Lightning flashed, and in that millisecond of bright light, Julia made out the cloak-shrouded face with its long, aristocratic nose and black, empty eyes. Struck dumb with fear, Julia clawed at the mattress to scramble away. Sheets smelling of fabric softener and sunshine, tangled around her legs like boa constrictors. The bed tipped, then rocked from side to side. Julia clung to the bedrail—scrambled to her knees. Under her, the mattress softened into a pit of quicksand, sucking her down, moving her closer to his outstretched hand. Her eyes widened in terror, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Somebody help me.

The next moment, clouds obscured the moon again, plunging the room into inky blackness. She opened her mouth again, trying desperately to drag air into her lungs—she must call for help.

"You know you belong to me, but I can wait." His voice echoed in the far reaches of her mind.

She gaped in protest. You can't have me; I'll never go with you. Julia lunged for the bedside lamp and switched it on. It burst into life, blinding her with its brilliance. Cold and soaked in sweat, Julia leapt from the bed. She ran, flipped the switch on the wall by the bedroom door, and flooded the room with light.

No man stood beside her bed, no sickly smell of violets filled her nostrils—nothing. She glanced furtively around the room. Everything was just as she had left it. A pile of clothes fresh from the dryer overflowed the small chair. Her cell phone rested in the charger on the nightstand. She wiped her damp hands on her pajama pants as she moved cautiously toward the window. With trembling fingers, she closed it and pressed her forehead against the cool glass.

Outside a midnight sky sparkled with a million stars. A summer breeze disturbed the treetops. Julia slumped against the wall, her fingers closing around the gold locket hanging from her neck. "It was just another bad dream—a very bad dream."

* * * * *

The next morning, Julia walked into the old, country style kitchen. The delightful smell of bread toasting made her stomach rumble. She took the offered blue and white, striped mug of steaming coffee from her friend, Laura, and sank into a kitchen chair. She ran a finger over the grain in the scrubbed, wooden, kitchen table and stared into space.

"Well don't you look great this morning?" Laura narrowed her caramel gaze then turned to the stove and stirred the eggs. "If you're coming down with the 'flu, don't breathe on me. I can't afford to miss work."

Julia sipped her coffee and sighed. "I'm not ill. I had another bad dream, that's all."

"Want some eggs?"

"Yeah, thanks. I know it was my turn to cook breakfast. I'll cook dinner—okay?"

"So we're having pizza again tonight?" Laura scoffed. "You know you could learn to cook something else. Instead of spending all your time on Facebook, you should watch some celebrity chef shows." She pushed more bread in the toaster, and slid a plate of golden, scrambled eggs and buttered toast across the table.

Julia grinned. She made a great pizza—that and toast was her specialty. "Sure, and if you promise to cook meatloaf tomorrow, I might throw in some of that frozen garlic bread as well. With the dreams I'm having lately it might keep the vampires away."

Laura pushed a strand of ebony hair behind one ear and slid into the other chair. "Vampires?" With one brow higher than the other, she threw Julia a confused look. "Oh yes, blood sucking vampires are the flavor of the month. You shouldn't let those movies go to your head."

Amused at her friend's attitude, Julia chuckled. "Yes mom."

"No seriously, it's not normal to have bad dreams every night." Laura pointed at Julia with a fork. Maybe you need to see a shrink."

Julia bit into a slice of toast, chewed slowly, and then washed it down with coffee. "Like I can afford a shrink. Right now, I'd find it difficult scraping up enough cash for Tylenol. Maybe I've got a brain tumor or something. I'll Google 'bad dreams' when I get home tonight—that's free."

"So . . . are they always the same?" Laura reached for her coffee. Her long fingers tipped with bright, vermillion nails closed around the earthenware mug.

"Not exactly the same. I'm in bed, and I can't get away. This cloaked figure comes and stands by my bed. I know he is a man, and he wants me to go with him. His eyes glow red, and he has long nails . . . like talons. It's always cold, freezing cold. Trouble is, part of me wants to go with him. It's like being turned on by a bad boy. You know it's wrong but you still find it sexy."

"Woo." Laura put down her mug and waved her outstretched fingers in front of Julia's face.
"Sounds more like a demon than a vampire." Laura grinned and got up. "You haven't joined a blood drinking cult or anything spooky lately?" She waited until Julia put down her fork and then collected the plates.

Julia rolled her eyes. "Like I'd do something stupid like that—I'm just having bad dreams. Trust me, I haven't had the slightest urge to paint my lips black and join the local Goths." She pushed the last morsel of toast into her mouth. "Not a chance, I look awful in black." With a chuckle, Julia glanced at her watch and pushed away from the table. "Leave the plates, I'll wash up." She went to the sink and filled it with hot water. "You'd better head off or you'll be late for work."

"You . . . are an angel." Laura flashed a brilliant smile, picked up her purse, and headed for the door.

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