Thursday, September 4, 2014

Familiar Taste of Seduction release is a month away!

Little over a month away till release day for mine an Elizabeth Kolodziej’s book “A Familiar Taste of Seduction”.  To say we are excited about this is an understatement.  We had great fun writing the book as we used social media for research items, tossing around idea’s to use, and looking for photos and pictures for inspiration.  While writing this book Liz and I would be busy texting on our phones, and at the same time sending ideas through facebook and twitter and on occasion an email would get sent.  All at the same time.  We would laugh as we did this, since we were able to keep everything straight.  We’ve also thought this would make for a great panel at a convention.  How to write a book while on social media.  
Come meet our cast and crew of the “Clock and Bullocks” ship and the many characters of the Midnight Carnival, where else can steampunk, demons, wizards and sirens come together.    
Here is an excerpt from our book.  You can pre-order now on Amazon.
This day the overcast pewter sky blew a wind that seemed to go right through your clothes and right down to your bones. A deep chill had been invading me since docking my ship, the Clock and Bullocks.  The hustle and bustle of carriages bringing the rich to depart on the huge steamer ships, and the lowly horses pulling carts laden down with all manner of goods drifted by me on the street. The sounds of which I could not hear but the sight and smell greeted me in a damp earth sea salty sort of way. I pulled the collar of my coat up around my neck, and my cap tighter onto my head, as I walked down the wooden boardwalk to my favorite portside bar. The grey wooden sign in the shape of a ships anchor hung above the door of The Wharf bar and bathhouse. I’d been out on my ship with my crew for the last month and needed to blow off a bit of steam. Since I ran a dry ship most times, my men and I were always wanting some ale whenever we were in port.
I reached for the iron door handle of the bar and pulled the heavy oak door toward me and stepped back just in time as two gentlemen came flying out said door. The bartender, looked at me as he brushed his hands off and put those big beefy hands on his hips and glared at me as though to challenge whether I too was going to be trouble. Then suddenly the big man let out a hearty laugh and clapped his big meaty hand on my shoulder to welcome me into his bar. 
“Well, Captain Henri, it’s been quite some time since we’ve seen you.” The bartender said as he looked at me.
“Aye, it has,” I replied stepping into the dimly lit bar.  I pulled my wool cap off, the leather thong holding my brown hair back coming loose.  Stuffing the cap in a pocket, I unbuttoned my coat and shrugged out of it, and hung it on a coat tree just inside the door.  Glancing around, several patrons sat at the bar itself drinking beer while several tables, some with poker games in progress, were occupied around the room. The deep rich wood of the walls had taken on a patina of reddish brown from years of smokers. The smell of cigar smoke, beer, and other hard liquors greeted my nose as well as sawdust that had been sprinkled over the floor. I walked down the bar a ways and sat near the end farthest from the door, a good spot to observe everyone there. I took joy in watching others. Since talking with most folks didn’t always work out so well. Most of the regulars knew I could not hear, the result of an accident on board a ship when I was a cabin boy.  Others just didn’t care.
The bartender set a tankard of dark beer in front of me. I picked it up and took a long pull of it.  Damn, I thought, that tasted great as I set the tankard back down on the bar.  A burp worked its way up my throat and I felt it escape.  The men nearest me looked over and laughed and I patted my chest for any other burps that might be lurking. 
I was into my third beer and flirting with a bar maid, when a fight began in the far corner of the bar. From what I could see it was over a poker game. More and more of the bar patrons were getting in on the fight, fists flying and bodies hitting the floor. The bartender came out from behind the bar, wielding a bat in one of his hands and made way for the nearest scrum of bodies. I watched as he broke the men apart and escorted them to the door by the scruffs of their necks. 
In the mean time the bar maid I had been flirting with ran and hid behind me as bodies went flying past her and landed on the floor with a thud. Grabbing her hand I pulled her through the swinging doors to the back hallway and rushed her to the safety of a supply closet. I was just going to put her in there and return to the bar room, but she wouldn’t let go of my hand when I went to leave. She pulled me inside with her and tugged the door shut. Total darkness. I could only feel her body next to mine, the heat pouring off of her. My fingers found the buttons of her dress and began to slip them undone.  I slid my hand into the bodice, cupping her full breast.   Squeezing and pinching the nipple. 
She reached up and put both hands on either side of my face and pulled me down to her lips.  How long had it been since I had a bar wench? Too long. I plunged my tongue into her mouth. My arms came around her and held her tight. I could feel her eagerness in her kiss and by the way she wrapped her arms around my neck. The press of her breasts to my chest felt incredible. As I backed up to the wall I bumped into a chair with such roughness that I sat down hard onto it. My little bar wench reached for my buttons, never letting up on the kiss.