Saturday Sexcerpt – Epitaph by Cammie Eicher

“I was planning breakfast in bed.”

Nicolas strolled toward her, a cup in each hand. He wore only jeans, low-slung on his hips, the lack of attire accentuating his wide shoulders and sculpted abs. Acacia felt a twinge of anticipation just looking at him.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

She waited for him to join her, greeting him with a deep kiss before accepting the cup of blood. A tease of vanilla and caramel enriched the fluid.

“Perfect,” she sighed.

“Like you.” Nicolas took her hand and led her to the couch. He set their cups on an end table and sat down. He pulled her onto his lap.

“I’ve missed you.” He pressed his face against her hair and inhaled. “Ah, jasmine. You know it’s my favorite scent. So much more original than lavender or roses.”

Roses. The memory of one perfect thornless bloom, fresh from the garden, floated into her mind. She pushed it away and curled up against Nicolas. The coolness of his body and the slow beat of his heart were so familiar.

“Giorgio works you too hard.” He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “You look tired.”

“That comes from staying up all day. You know me. I’m a night girl all the way.”

“Poor baby. Maybe, I can help you relax.”

His slim fingers slipped along her jaw to the cradle the back of her head, pulling her to him so his lips could seize hers. His other hand slid under the soft pajama top to capture her breast. A familiar heat filled her. She wound her arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“Ah, you missed me, too,” Nicolas whispered as she arched against him. His fingers teased along her spine; every nerve in her body responded. He slid onto the floor and pulled her atop him. His arms trapped her while his mouth captured hers, demanding and still bearing a hint of sweetness from the blood.

She struggled against him, desperate to pull off her clothes and feel his skin against her. Nicolas chuckled and tightened his embrace.

“Later, little one. I need you now.”

He loosened his grip, tugged the pajama pants below her hips and positioned her against his hard shaft. She gasped as he entered and howled when she found release.

“I think our breakfast is cold,” she whispered as the fever left her.

“The drinks can be reheated.” He kissed her hair and added, “Just like you,” with laughter in his voice.

He lifted her onto the couch, rose and picked up their mugs. She rearranged her clothes as she waited for his return from the kitchen. This was exactly what she’d needed after the tense days of pretending to be a short-lifer. She rubbed her side where Nicolas’ fingers dug in. Fast and rough was good. So was sweet and slow. That would come once they were in bed.

Steamy, very nice.  Join me next Thursday when I interview one of my fellow LSB authors. ~Tina


AuThursday – Cammie Eicher

Please welcome back my fellow Resplendence Author, Cammie Eicher.  Cammie, do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?

My mind is always in gear and I seldom find myself blocked. But when I do, I’ll grab a notebook, go have coffee somewhere and “interview” the characters. I pretend I’m really asking them questions and jotting down answers and pretty soon, I’m back in the groove.

Q: When you first started in this business, how did you deal with rejection letters, if you received any?

I have a whole ring binder of rejection letters I’ll be happy to show anyone who wants to see them! My parents taught me the real failure is to quit trying so after a day or so of being bummed, I’d read through them and take any advice they offered. Then I’d rewrite and resubmit.

Q: How did you come up with the idea for your SHADOW ANCIENT series?

My late sister and I were always into vampires. I was sitting in Las Vegas at an RWA conference, waiting for time to catch the airport shuttle, when I began to wonder about all those people around me. What if they weren’t all like me? What if they were actually vampires, but not the kind of the popular legend? What if they were the original species of man and we were the mutants? It just grew from there.

Q: Do you have a favorite hero in all your books? For any particular reason?

I’d say its Giorgio Montrosa. Giorgio had a lousy childhood and let it turn him into an ambitious man with little regard for others. But when he was forced to choose between two paths, he decided to create a new and better life for himself. Plus he’s just really sexy!

Q: Which one of your covers is your favorite and why?

Hmmm … that’s a tough one. I really like Dead Man Stalking because it so accurately reflects the story.

Q: What are your current projects?

I’ve just seen the latest Shadow Ancient book, “Epitaph,” come out and I’m starting work on two new books. One involves my Ancients while the other is a humorous, small town story of feuding neighbors and revenge.

Q:  Do you have any advice for other writers?

You can do this! There’s a phrase that I offer all who ask me how to write: HIC-HOK. That stands for hinny in chair, hands on keyboard. Write. And when you need a break, read. Don’t ever assume you’re not good enough or compare yourself to someone else. Your voice is unique and your imagination is like no one else’s.

Q:  Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?

Check me out at or come see me on Facebook.

Join me on Saturday when we read an excerpt from Cammie’s book, “Epitaph”. ~Tina



Saturday Sexcerpt – Out of the Shadows by Cammie Eicher

available at Resplendence Publishing

Here’s an Excerpt from Cammie Eicher’s Out of the Shadows

Hide in the open.

The whisper from her subconscious quieted as Ahnya Fahre backed the small sedan between two SUVs in the cul-de-sac of a suburban neighborhood. The dash clock read a few minutes after four. She was grateful for a nearby street lamp and the glowing landscape lanterns in the yard beside her. Their narrow tunnels of light brightened the dark of early morning and made her feel less alone.

Exhaustion washing over her, Ahnya fumbled for the lever and released her seat to its full reclining position. She made certain the doors were locked before turning on her side to face the sleeping infant in a car seat next to her.

“Welcome to the world,” she murmured to the hours-old child, placing a protective hand on the baby as she herself drifted off to sleep.

She was awakened later by the dim dawn. Her neck was stiff, her shoulder ached from laying against the seat belt buckle, but her tiny charge was safe. Nothing else mattered.

Pulling the seat upright, she unlocked her door and stepped outside to stretch. She welcomed the pull in her muscles as she raised her arms above her head, then bent down to loosen her back. The small ache reminded her how soft she had become. She hadn’t been on the run for a long time. And back then, she’d been alone, with nothing at stake but her future.

She had a child to protect now. As the realization of what she’d agreed to struck Ahnya anew, she folded her arms around herself and gave in to a moment of fear.

“Misha,” she whispered, “what if I fail?”

Her only answer was the whisper of the wind and the song of a few early birds. She was alone, with nothing more to guide her than the contents of the envelope Misha had thrust at her as he’d urged her to take the baby and flee.

A substantial amount of cash, a false driver’s license for her and a fake birth certificate for the infant. But most importantly, the envelope also contained directions to find Misha’s deepest enemy.

The one man who could be trusted to keep her, and this child, alive.

* * * *

Louisville, Kentucky

Thirty-six hours earlier

Griff huddled beneath the protective branches of the old weeping willow tree, night goggles trained on the limestone mansion across the street. His camera with its zoom lens lay within easy reach. As stakeouts went, he’d been on worse. He liked this part of the city. Old Louisville, the locals called it, the epitome of Victorian elegance and tradition. The neighborhood was especially beautiful now in late April, with the dogwood trees in bloom and brilliant azalea bushes in red and pink flanking the wide steps to the houses. Since he was going to spend the night out here, he might as well enjoy the ambiance.

“Aw, shit, don’t park there,” he muttered as a long, black sedan coasted by. He held his breath as it slowed, expecting the driver to park between him and the mansion he watched. He settled back as the car sped up and turned at the end of the block, leaving the view unimpeded.

Griff relaxed and returned his attention to those entering the house. Dressed in formal wear, some carrying gifts, their appearance led him to new speculation. Maybe the event was nothing more than a Derby party. Only two weeks remained until the famed Run for the Roses, and Misha Tsarentza was known for extravagant entertainment during the season.

Yet Griff was sure whatever was going on had nothing to do with horseracing.

* * * *

Inside the mansion, the party was in full swing. The ballroom with its brocade wallpaper and polished floors was crowded tonight. The babble of voices floated across the music by the tuxedo-clad band; no invitation had been turned down. Everyone who was anyone in this particular circle was here, and the festivities would continue until almost dawn.

Ahnya stood at the top of a curved staircase, hands crossed on the carved rail. She stared down into the ballroom where a laughing Tatiana danced. Tonight, her young charge was very much the queen of the party. Why shouldn’t she be? This was, after all, Tatiana’s night. Her celebration.

Her changing.

“That little girl has become a very beautiful young woman.”

Ahnya smiled at the man next to her. “As I always expected. Did you ever doubt it?”

Misha shook his head. “Never. Not with her mother’s looks and her father’s spirit. Yet what you have given is most important.” He ran a gentle finger along the inside of Ahnya’s wrist, tracing the faded and narrow scar. “You have not forgotten how difficult it can be to be young. Your guidance will help Tatiana decide what to do with those gifts.”

“You flatter me. The love with which you, her family, surround her shapes her life. My role is small.”

“Perhaps we must agree to disagree.” Ahnya felt the coolness of Misha’s hand as he laid it atop hers and lapsed into silence. She wondered if he shared her thoughts as the girl danced with Stenos, her father. Tatiana had so much of her mother in her—her beautiful and strong-willed mother, whose recklessness had been her downfall and eventually, her death.

Misha was a satisfied man. Life was good. Things had gone well for his clan, for all his people, for many centuries. Secret truces hammered out hundreds of years ago with powerful church leaders and governments still stood; the unspoken agreements were in force. Yet change was coming. He had sensed it even before the Prophetess interrupted the last gathering of the council to warn of unexpected and unbidden chaos.

He could do little but wait…wait and gather around him those he could trust, and prepare himself for the unexpected.

Ahnya’s small sigh brought him back to the moment, and the reassuringly normal scene below.

“Do you tire?” Misha’s voice, smooth as velvet, was a throaty whisper as he moved closer to her. He sought not intimacy but the ability to speak without having to guard his speech. Every word, every action of an elder was noticed.

He waved a hand toward the throng below.

“No matter what our guests may think, this celebration belongs to you as well as my godchild. It would please me if you stay. However, the festivities have only begun, and the hour is late. If you choose to leave, I will understand.”

“I know.” Ahnya smiled at her friend and protector. “Unlike you and your guests, I’ve been up since early this morning. Still, I’m not tired enough to leave and miss the ceremony.”

“A wise woman, for Tatiana will not forgive you if you did.” Misha smiled and offered Ahnya his hand as the music stopped. They walked down the stairs to join the others moving down a wide hallway and away from the decorated ballroom.

Even after all these years, Ahnya had not forgotten her awe walking into this house for the first time with nothing but the clothes she wore and a dirty backpack holding the pitiful remnants of her life. The foyer alone was larger than the living room of the ranch home back in Kansas, and the high ceilings and elegant décor reminded her of a museum.

The first floor was formal, its walls covered with satin fabric, the parquet floors accented with a wide hall runner. The third story was unique. The rooms were arranged around a wide, open space looking down into the ballroom they had left. The dance floor shone from years of polishing, and the plaster walls were tinted a pale blue to contrast subtly with the ornate white ceiling.

The rest of this second floor, where she moved now with the others, was off-limits to all but Misha and his intimates. The private rooms of those in residence were lavish and welcoming. Ahnya’s own room had been at the end of this hallway, connected by a thick door to the room that had been Tatiana’s since her birth. Once her changing was complete, the girl would leave behind the room of her childhood and take up residence in one of the sumptuous suites they now passed.

And Ahnya would leave this world for the one she’d left thirteen years before.

She couldn’t bear to glance in the open door of the old nursery as they passed. Turned into a guest room, it reeked of opulence, furnished with mahogany furniture and an antique oriental rug. Ahnya had spent countless hours there when it was a baby’s room, decorated for a child of the clan whose life rivaled that of any princess.

She’d paced this hall many a day, Tatiana cradled against her, walking back and forth until the child finally fell asleep. Silence had surrounded them as the other occupants slept. In those early years, Ahnya had often pretended this was her house and her baby.

Pretended she, too, was an Ancient.

Misha’s gentle voice interrupted her musing.

“I must leave you.”

Misha gave Ahnya’s hand a final squeeze and joined his fellows, leaving her lingering outside the doorway. Her stomach tightened as she studied the ritual room with its sparse furnishings. She could not enter the sacred place. Only those of the blood were permitted inside.

A thick black rug covered the pale marble floor. Two pieces of furniture stood on its center: An elaborate carved, gilt-trimmed chair resembling a throne, and a red velvet Victorian fainting couch. The only illumination came from tapers in tall candelabras, the shadow of their flames flickering against the walls and dancing on the ceiling.

Ahnya stepped back as the Ancients formed a circle in the center of the room, and found a viewing place in the hall as their chant began in a language nearly as old as time. The rhythm of the words grew stronger and faster with each moment. The aroma of the oddly-scented candles filled the air until it seemed to press against Ahnya and made her dizzy.

The candlelight shimmered against the glittering dresses of the women, but Ahnya was captivated by their faces. Joy and expectation filled them as they threw back their heads. The high female voices grew increasingly louder, faster, more primitive, joined by the lower chanting of the males. The sound moved around her, through her, as the celebrants discarded the inhibitions of polite society.

A shiver snaked down Ahnya’s spine. She pressed back against the wall as the chant reached its pinnacle and a man entered the room. Tall and sharp-featured, he wore a long black robe that swept the floor behind him, and walked with the assurance of a man who knows ultimate power is his. Ahnya’s eyes widened as he approached the others and candlelight fell upon his face.

Thanks so much to Cammie for sharing her story with us.  Join me next Thursday when Jannifer Hoffman stops by.



Have you been Naughty today?

AuThursday – Cammie Eicher

Please welcome fellow Resplendence Author Cammie Eicher. Tell us Cammie, how long have you been writing?

All my life! My first writing award was for an essay in fourth grade and that’s when I made up my mind to be a writer. I’ve been lucky enough to make my living in journalism since college, and I’ve been writing fiction for about 10 years.

Q: To date which of your books was the hardest to write and why?

My upcoming “Dead Man Stalking” because it’s first-person and funny (I hope!) I write a weekly newspaper column that is also first-person and humorous, and sometimes I forget that the heroine was making the observations in my novel, not me!

Q:  What is your writing process? Do you outline, fly by the seat of your pants or a combination of both?

I use a combination of both. In my Shadow Ancient series of vampire romantic suspense, I created the mythology, then wrote the stories. That means there are rules to be followed within their society, and I have to adhere to them. I start with the characters, throw them into a situation and basically get out of their way and let them go.

 Q:  Do you use mood music, candles, no noise, when you write?

I used to have a no-noise rule, until I got new neighbors with a big stereo who favor rap. Of course, all I get at my computer is the thump-thump-thump of the bass, so I put a relaxing CD of favorite classical music on to cover it up. And if I’m writing something tender, I’ll light my favorite rose-scented candle.

 Q:  What do you think is the biggest misconception about e-publishing?

That these books aren’t quite “as good” as the ones from the big New York houses because they’re not printed on paper! I tell people they’re the place to go for books that go beyond boundaries and mix genres, plus darn good writing.

Q:  How did you come up with your titles?

They kinda come to me when I start the book! I guess my subconscious mulls it around a while and decides to hand me a title along with the plot and characters.

Q:  What books have most influenced your life most?

One book I’ve always loved is “Hannah Fowler,” by Janice Holt Giles, a Kentuckian who wrote stories stemming from Kentucky history. I discovered it in high school and have read it several times since. I also adore everything by Dean Koontz and grew up on a steady diet of non-fiction paranormal stuff, like Fate magazine. I blame my parents for turning me into a paranormal romance writer!

Q:  What is on tap for the rest of 2010?

In mid-June, “Hell’s Belle,” the second book of the Shadow Ancients comes out with a real kick-ass human heroine and the third book, “Devil’s Ball,” debuts in October, just in time for Halloween, with a vampire hero and heroine. In August, “Dead Man Stalking” will be released, all about a girl, her inherited dog and the ghost of her dead boyfriend — and a murder and brand-new love.

 Q:  Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?

Come visit me at http://www.cammieeicher.comor connect with me on Facebook.

Please join me on Saturday when Cammie shares a Sexy Excerpt with us.

See you then,


Have you been Naughty today?


Tuesday Trailer – Out of the Shadows

Out of the Shadows

When Ahnya Fahre goes on the run with a newborn vampire, is she putting her life in the man who will save her? Or will he sacrifice her, and the child, to his hatred?
You can buy Out of the Shadows here


We’ll be interviewing Cammie on AuThursday so please stop back.