![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
midnight_bell's journalCreate a LiveJournal Account Learn more
|
You are viewing midnight_bell's journal Create a LiveJournal Account Learn more | Explore LJ: Life Entertainment Music Culture News & Politics Technology |
Midnight BellTake a walk on Oberon's dark side... |
 |
| "Darcy Boyle walked in through the door of The Midnight Bell and was hit by a wave of something she might have called nostalgia, if it weren’t for the fact she hated having to be here..." | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| "Whatever the feeling was, it hit her even harder than the noise emanating from the band warming up on the club’s small stage. She had spent far too many evenings in here, back when she lived in Oberon. Though most of her memories were good ones, it was always the bad memories that stood out the farthest, and stayed with her the longest... " Subscribe to this Blog: Links: Take me back to The Crone's Nest Take me to MySpace Take me to Rhymes with Foreplay Take me to Oberon Take me to Yet Another Weblog! | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Nov. 11th, 2009 @ 07:50 pm Angel Kisses? | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Ah, some angels are pure, innocent...and, let's face it, not much fun. Mine...are a little bit different. Meet Edge, a most unlikely angel. This is a first kiss excerpt featuring Edge and his new friend, Matteo. Personally, I'm loving these guys... There’s a wicked look in his eyes as he twists ’round to face me. It’s exactly the kind of look that can’t help but remind you that the devil’s an angel, too. “There’s a little matter that’s been driving me nuts ever since I got here and I need your help to figure it out.” Before I can come up with any kind of response to that—before I even have a clue what he’s planning—damned if he doesn’t kiss me. Surprise short-circuits my reasoning from the moment Matteo’s lips touch mine and I kiss him back, more or less automatically. It’s shock. And curiosity. I’m sure that’s all it is. I’ve been wondering for so long what something like this would be like. I’ve been wanting it for so long. Craving it really. And his lips—so warm and gentle at first, so insistent an instant later—how can I resist his lips, or the scratchy stubble that surrounds them, so different from anything I’ve known before? But, it’s purely curiosity. Mostly curiosity… Partially… Okay, look, curiosity’s somewhere in the mix, that’s all I’m sayin’. The only thing I know for certain right now is that my lips are parting for his tongue and my eyes are closed tight in bliss as the taste and the smell of him washes over my senses, so sweet, so tangy and male, so good, so right. And then, somewhere in the midst of all of that, my conscience makes a belated appearance. Oh, holy crap. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? This is a mistake. Stop it. Right. A mistake. I knew that. I start to pull away, only to find that—somehow—Matteo’s hand is cupping the back of my neck. How it got there, when it got there, I have no idea. His fingers tense as I move. He tightens his hold and begins a slow caress that I know is designed to gentle me into staying right where I am. Knowing what he’s up to should be enough to stop my body from responding just as he’d intended. It’s not. I exhale on a shudder, let my tongue curl with his and I’m lost again. I’m not going anywhere. And you know what? I’m really kind of okay with that. Okay? The hell you are. End this. Now! Desperation kicks in and demands I try again. I straight-arm Matteo in the chest, forcing him away. “Stop it,” I say, struggling for words. “That’s enough now.” Matteo licks his lips, causing my cock to throb painfully. He smiles faintly. “All right, if that’s what you want. I just had to be sure, that’s all.” There’s a heated, carnal look to his gaze. It makes me suspicious over the ease with which he’s giving in, secretly hopeful that his quick capitulation is merely a trick of some sort and teetering on the verge of pulling him back for another kiss. I know I’m probably better off not knowing, but I ask it just the same, “What do you mean? Sure about what?” “That you feel it too.” It? Oh, yeah. I huff out a shaky breath. I’m pretty sure I know what he means by “it” and, sometimes—like now—the best answer to give is no answer at all. I clamp my mouth shut and order myself not to speak. Not. One. Word. But I should have known he wouldn’t let me leave it at that. “You do, don’t you?” he asks as his fingers trace lightly over the line of my jaw. “It’s not just me, imagining things?” His thumb rubs across my lower lip and I have to fight against the insane desire to nibble at the tip, or maybe suck the whole digit into my mouth. Just the thought causes a ringing in my ears and I’m pretty sure it’s the sound of blood leaving my brain. If the swollen condition of my cock is any indication, it’s no mystery where it’s headed. How did this happen? When did I lose control? “Edge?” I can’t speak. I don’t trust myself to. Who knows what I’ll end up saying. I glance away, try to focus on the shore, the rocks, the waves, the sky—anything as long as it’s not him. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.” “It doesn’t matter what I want.” The words are so painfully true, they give me the strength to meet his gaze. “This is as far as it goes, Matt. I mean it.” copyright 2009 PG Forte All Rights Reserved. If you liked this, please be sure and check out all the other smokin’ “First Kiss” excerpts at www.ninenaughtynovelists.blogspot.com And if you want even more kissing, I’ve decided to let some of my other characters come out and play today, as well. Gabby and Derek’s first kiss (Waiting for the Big One) is featured at Rhymes with Foreplay And Adam and Sinead's first kiss (Touch of a Vanished Hand) can be found at The Crone's Nest © PG Forte 2009 All Rights Reserved BlogCatalog Blog Directory    
| ||||||||
| Jan. 19th, 2009 @ 12:10 pm Join the Search for the World's Best Lover | |||
|---|---|---|---|
| ( You are about to view content that may not be appropriate for minors. ) | ||
| Jan. 1st, 2009 @ 02:41 pm Out with the Old, in with the New | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
   So it's January first and I figure this is as good a time as any to update this page and get myself all geared up for the new year. So? Whaddaya think? Thoughts? Comments? Anyone? Click HERE to view my New Year's Greeting. © PG Forte 2008 All Rights Reserved BlogCatalog Blog Directory
| ||||||||
| Jun. 6th, 2008 @ 12:08 pm Excerpt and Contest News | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Technorati Profile Okay, so I'm running a contest. I've got a new series in the works and am in desperate need of something to call the damn thing other than 'the vampire series' which is how I'm referring to it now and that's really not working for me. I'm going to post the blurb and an excerpt from the first book, in just a minute here, but basically the contest is a very, very simple one. If you can think of a series title, leave a comment. If I use it, you get a free book (check out my stacks in the Wicked Whispers Library, for a list of all my current titles)...fourteen in all. Woo-hoo!! What could be easier, right? Good luck and TIA! And now, the blurb and excerpt for In the Dark... When you live forever, you’re bound to make a few mistakes. Especially when yours is a life led in the dark. In 1969, a twelve hundred year old vampire named Conrad attempts to turn the free-spirited teenage runaway with whom he’s fallen in love. What happens next is something no one saw coming: newborn vampire twins. Forty years later, Conrad has gone missing and the twins are called upon to help find him. What happens after that is a tale of blood, betrayal and...vampire family values. EXCERPT Prologue San Francisco, California Saturday, November 1st, 1969 When you live forever, you’re bound to make a few mistakes. It goes with the territory, especially if you’re still partly human. To err is human—isn’t that how the saying goes? It doesn’t matter how old or how careful or how intelligent you are. Every now and again there’s going to be something you fail to take into account. It’s inevitable. There’s really very little in this world more prone to miscalculation than the human heart...or even the mostly human heart. It wasn’t that Conrad thought himself immune to such failings, but after almost twelve hundred years he had grown a bit complacent. What miscalculations were left for him to make? He thought he’d seen it all—everything new and old under the sun—life, death, comedy, tragedy, the rise and fall of civilizations; all the glory and depredation of which humankind is capable. But he hadn’t ever seen anything like Suzanne Marie Fischer. Lovely. Desperate. Dying. Suzanne, or Desert Rose as she was calling herself then, had been living on the streets of San Francisco when he met her. A petite, free-spirited, dark-eyed waif, she was only one of countless, teenage runaways drawn to the city by Scott McKenzie’s lyrics in the waning days of the 1960s. She certainly wasn’t the first pretty face to ever cross Conrad’s path and even he knew she wasn’t likely to be the last. All the same, he fell for her the way old men have always fallen for young girls: hard. He was blinded by his feelings for her; by his lust, his love, his passion, his need. Call it what you will. He was rendered thoughtless, selfish, reckless, ruthless. And so he came to make what was, quite possibly, the biggest mistake of his very long life. "My babies?" Suzanne gasped the last time he saw her; her agony finally beginning to make itself apparent, determination blazing suddenly in her dark eyes. "They’re... Are they...?" "They’re fine," Conrad responded automatically, gazing at her helplessly; the woman he’d loved. The woman he’d killed. He had no idea how it was she could still talk, or even breathe. Certainly her heart was no longer beating. If it was he’d have heard it. "A boy and a girl. They’re both...fine." For the time being, anyway. But who knows how long that will last? "No." Her head rocked back and forth. "Not fine. They’re your kind, aren’t they? They’re like you?" "They’re vampire, yes." He’d known that the moment he’d laid eyes on them—even though the idea ran counter to everything he’d previously believed possible. Newly born vampire twins. That was something even a millennia’s worth of experience hadn’t prepared him for. "I could tell. I could feel them growing inside me and...and I knew." But Conrad couldn’t face thinking about what she must have gone through these past months in order to carry her babies to term. "Who did this?" he demanded instead, gesturing at the bandages that covered her savaged throat; focusing his rage on something he could do something about: exacting his revenge on her attacker. "Who hurt you? Tell me." Suzanne shook her head. Perhaps she didn’t know the answer. Perhaps she no longer cared. "Take them," she murmured, her gaze holding tenaciously to his, her voice even fainter than before. "Safer. With you." "What?" "Sssave them. Please." Them? It took a moment for her meaning to come clear to him. Her babies. The children who should not have been—who could not have been—born. But were. Conrad roused himself from his own feelings—from his grief, his confusion, his pain, his loss—long enough to consider hers. He met her gaze and nodded. "I will, mignonne. I promise. I’ll protect them with my very life. Forever." Suzanne seemed satisfied, but then the fire went out in her eyes leaving only the pain. "Hurts," she whimpered weakly. "Kill...me. P-p-please?" But even if Conrad could have brought himself to honor this final request, he knew there was no need. As her eyes closed and she slipped away from him for what would be the very last time, he stroked her hair and answered very softly, "I already did, little one." Chapter One Present Day "All I’m saying is we have no proof," Marc Fischer insisted stubbornly, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. From the other side of their private train compartment, Julie Fischer rolled her eyes as her twin brother launched once again into what she suspected had become his favorite topic of conversation, of late—and her least favorite one. "All we’ve got is the word of two crazy old men. Just because they say we’re vampires, doesn’t mean it’s true." Julie choked back a laugh and glanced meaningfully at the blood bag from which she’d been sipping—discreetly disguised as a juice pouch. "Well, if you don’t consider our primary food choice to be proof then I guess you have a point. But, speaking of those ‘crazy old men’ doesn’t the fact they haven’t aged for as long as we’ve known them count as proof either?" "Good genes," Marc replied stubbornly. "So we all happen to look good for our ages. Big deal. So do a lot of other people." "Wrong," Julie corrected. "You look good for your age. I happen to look fantastic. But, come on, Marc, be honest with yourself. We don’t just look good. We look virtually the same as we did when we turned twenty. You have to admit that’s not normal. We don’t age. We’re stronger than other people. We have fangs. We drink blood. How much more proof do you need?" Marc sighed. "Granted, it’s all a little...unusual. But, what does it really prove, huh? That we have some weird genetic condition? Sure, I’ll buy that. But vampirism? Give me one good reason why I should believe that’s what it is. Do we burst into flames in the sunlight? Does holy water do anything other than get us wet? Are we allergic to garlic?" "Eww." A shudder of distaste ran through Julie and she returned the now drained bag to the cooler in which it had been stored. "Do you really have to talk about this when I’m eating? That smell...just thinking about it makes me want to hurl. And, considering how sick it always makes you every time you try and eat garlic, I’d say yes, you’re definitely allergic to it." "Ah, but it doesn’t kill me, does it?" Marc replied, sounding exactly like he thought he’d scored a point. "Lots of people have food allergies, you know. That doesn’t mean they’re all vampires." "Lots of people would die if you cut their heads off, too. Or if you drove a stake through their hearts or set them on fire. Doesn’t mean they’re not vampires." "Jules." A pained expression crossed Marc’s face. "That’s just silly." "Exactly," she replied picking up the book she’d been reading. "It’s all silly, Marc. You’re just looking for an excuse not to accept yourself for what you are. But, hey, that’s your right, I guess. If it makes you feel better to think we’re aliens, go for it." "At least that would be a more scientific explanation," Marc grumbled. "Uh-huh," she murmured in response, not really paying attention. The hero in the book she was reading had just sunk his fangs into his willing victim’s neck, sending a shiver of imagined pleasure racing down Julie’s spine. "Whatever. Live long and prosper, bro." "You know what I think?" Marc asked, not waiting for her to answer. "I think you’re the one who’s looking for excuses. You want to believe we’re vampires ‘cause you think they’re hot. I mean, look at this crap you’re reading." Snatching the book from her hands, he began to read aloud. "...satisfaction gleamed in the prince’s dark eyes as he drew back and looked her over, still licking the last traces of blood from his lips. My blood, Celeste thought, her breasts rising and falling more quickly with the realization. It was her blood, her life force from which he’d been feeding and her body ached with the need to give more." "Hey! Give that back," Julie snapped as she reclaimed her book. "Is that how feeding makes you feel?" Marc smirked. "Do your eyes gleam with satisfaction when you do it? Maybe, next time you eat, you could take out your mirror and check to see. Oh, but, wait a minute— " He smacked himself in the head. "Since you’re a vampire, I guess you’re invisible in mirrors too, huh?" Her pleasure soured by his ridicule, Julie gazed at her brother resentfully. "It’s called fiction, Marc. And if it’s got a good story and three-dimensional characters, nobody’s gonna care if it’s a little unrealistic." Although, actually, she thought, the three-dimensional part was probably optional, as well. At least where she was concerned. Just so long as the heroes were really, really hot. "Now, if you don’t mind, we’re going to be pulling into the station soon and I’d like to finish this book before then." But although Julie’s gaze returned to her book, her attention was not so easily re-captured. Though she’d never admit to it, Marc had made one small point. Mirrors, she thought, mentally shaking her head at the absurdity. Whoever the crackpot was who’d come up with that genius idea, he had to have been a man. Imagine applying makeup or trying on clothes without being able to see what you looked like. Imagine a lifetime of bad hair days. If that were really the case, there’d be no need to invent fictional vampire slayers because female vampires everywhere would be lining up to stake themselves out of sheer frustration. © PG Forte 2008 All Rights Reserved BlogCatalog Blog Directory 
| ||||||||
| Feb. 5th, 2008 @ 02:45 pm Oberon, Take Two | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Technorati Profile By now, if you've been reading any of my other blogs, newsletters, etc. you probably already know that the Oberon series is once again available for purchase through SynergEbooks. But to read more about it--and learn how to buy the whole set at a special discount price, check out this blog post: BlogCatalog Blog Directory
| ||||||||
| Jul. 30th, 2007 @ 08:17 pm New Reviews!! | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
Yesterday was a fabulous review day for me. I don't know why I keep getting three at a time, but it works for me--so I'm not complaining. Really, really not complaining about this first one FIVE Angels and a Recommended Read for Waiting for the Big Onefrom Marlene at Fallen Angel Reviews. Who had this to say: "I loved this book. The only problem with it was that it ended too quickly. I solved that by reading it twice. And my biggest consolation is that it is the first book in a series, so I know there will be more to come!" Read the full review HERE With a build up like that, I tend to get a little nervous. But Marlene liked book two in the series just as much and gave Love, From A to Z FIVE Angels as well! "This is the second book in the Lessons In Love series from P.G. Forte. It is just as great as the first book was! Love From A To Z is a smart, witty contemporary love story whose main characters are instantly likeable." Read what else she had to say HERE Marcy at Just Erotic Romance seemed to like it too, she gave it FIVE Stars with an Orgasmic heat rating. "Love From A To Z is the second book in P. G. Forte's Love Lessons series. It was a fun, sexy and completely satisfying book. I just loved April and Zach. I learned about April at the same time that she did. Zach was the man that I want! When the two had sex, the room lit up and so did I!" Thank you both so very, very much!! And, just a reminder, I'll be going on tour all through August. Click on the icon below to learn more:  TAGS: Love From A to Z, Waiting for the Big One, Reviews, Fallen Angel Reviews, Just Erotic Romance, erotic romance, PG Forte, Virtual Book Tour/a>, Liquid Silver Books | ||
| Jul. 23rd, 2007 @ 09:27 pm An Excerpt to Pass the Time | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Where it's at: Oberon, California
Technorati ProfileThe 'tude:  accomplishedThe tune: All american Rejects ~ It Ends Tonight know it’s been a while, but I thought I’d post an excerpt from this month’s new release, Love, From A to Z available from Liquid Silver Books  First, the blurb: Total amnesia is not what Richie Valenzuela had planned on when he drugged his cousin. A few missing hours, which could easily be blamed on April’s having had too much to drink was all he was aiming for. And he certainly never expected the reclusive heiress to slip out the club’s back door with the sexy guitarist she’d been making eyes at all night. Zach Harris is sure the girl he’d picked up the night before had told him her name was Angel. Too bad she didn’t tell him anything more about herself, because, this morning, it’s not just him she can’t remember, she doesn’t even know her own name! What April views as a problem, however, Zach sees as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; a chance for her to discover who she really is. Not her name or her address, but the important stuff. Her personality. Her likes and dislikes. Her preferences—in and out of bed. In this scene, April (AKA Angel) and Zach have returned to the bar where they met the previous night in hopes of discovering some clue to April’s identity... Zephyr was closed when we got there, as Zach predicted it would be; but, just as he’d promised, getting inside presented no problem. He parked his bike in the alley behind the bar, pounded loudly on the back door, and waited. Within minutes, the door was pushed open and a large man poked his head out. His somewhat forbidding expression quickly gave way to a pleased smile. "Zach? Good to see you, buddy. What are you doin’ here in the middle of the day?" Zach touched knuckles with the man. "Hey, Cuz. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine." Wrapping his arm around me, he propelled me forward. "Angel, say hello to Big Tony." I hid my surprise at the sobriquet as best I could, smiling as I extended my hand. Big Tony was... well, big. That wasn’t the source of my amazement. Rather, it was the realization that there were actually people in the world who answered to such names. Zach’s acquaintance with one of them had me unsettled. It seemed to underscore the difference between us. "Angel was here last night and we think she might have left her purse. Can we take a look around?" "Sure, sure." Tony pushed the door open wider. "Come on in." As we followed him inside, I grabbed hold of Zach’s arm. "Is he really your cousin?" I whispered. Grinning, he shook his head. "Nah, just a good friend. Now, come on, see if you recognize anything." A pungent, not unpleasant fragrance tickled my nostrils as I looked around, but it elicited no clear memory. The bar was dark, cool, quiet and totally unremarkable with its wood paneling, black vinyl bar stools, neon beer signs and rows and rows of bottles. Look up unpretentious in any dictionary you care to consult, and this--or something close to it--is exactly what you’ll find. "Well?" Zach inquired. I shook my head. "Nothing." Not only did I not remember this place, but every moment I spent here left me feeling more and more certain I was out of my element. "Maybe you just need the right perspective." He gestured to a table right up front, near the small stage. "You were seated over there. Maybe things will look different if you sit down?" I shrugged. "I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try." "Good." Zach nodded at Tony, who was rummaging behind the bar. "And while you’re doing that, I’m gonna go give Tony a hand. See what we can find." I headed for the table he’d indicated. "Sorry, bud," I heard Tony tell Zach. "But, it doesn’t look like anything’s been turned in." "What about messages?" Zach asked. "Nope. Not for anyone named Angel." I seated myself at the table, facing the stage. A spotlight, set in the ceiling, seemed to cast its light directly on me. I looked around, trying to imagine the place filled with people, with noise, with music. Nothing. Feeling hopeless, I buried my face in my hands. "Here," I heard Tony say. "On the house. Maybe it’ll help cheer her up." A minute later, Zach placed a large glass filled with foamy, amber liquid in front of me. He seated himself on the other side of the table and watched as I sniffed cautiously at the glass. Once again, a little of the fragrance mystery was resolved. Whatever this was, its aroma was heavy in the cool air. "What is this stuff?" "Ale. Tony’s answer to all life’s problems." Zach grimaced slightly. "Look, I know it’s early, but just try and drink a little of it, okay? Otherwise, you’ll hurt his feelings." I took a sip. It tasted cold, crisp, slightly yeasty. "Not bad. I like it." "You like beer?" Looking almost as surprised as he was pleased, Zach leaned back in his seat and smiled at me. "Well, all right then. My kind of woman." That smile of his had a way of messing me up, big time. From some hidden, inaccessible corner of my mind came the thought that I was not his kind of woman--not even close. But, ooh, when he smiled at me that way, I so wished I was. © Copyright 2007, PG Forte. All Rights Reserved. Tags: Love From A to Z Waiting for the Big One PG Forte Erotic Romance Virtual Book Tour
| ||||||||
| Jul. 23rd, 2007 @ 09:27 pm An Excerpt to Pass the Time | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
know it’s been a while, but I thought I’d post an excerpt from this month’s new release, Love, From A to Z available through Liquid Silver Books > First, the blurb: Total amnesia is not what Richie Valenzuela had planned on when he drugged his cousin. A few missing hours, which could easily be blamed on April’s having had too much to drink was all he was aiming for. And he certainly never expected the reclusive heiress to slip out the club’s back door with the sexy guitarist she’d been making eyes at all night. Zach Harris is sure the girl he’d picked up the night before had told him her name was Angel. Too bad she didn’t tell him anything more about herself, because, this morning, it’s not just him she can’t remember, she doesn’t even know her own name! What April views as a problem, however, Zach sees as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; a chance for her to discover who she really is. Not her name or her address, but the important stuff. Her personality. Her likes and dislikes. Her preferences—in and out of bed. In this scene, April (AKA Angel) and Zach have returned to the bar where they met the previous night in hopes of discovering some clue to April’s identity... Zephyr was closed when we got there, as Zach predicted it would be; but, just as he’d promised, getting inside presented no problem. He parked his bike in the alley behind the bar, pounded loudly on the back door, and waited. Within minutes, the door was pushed open and a large man poked his head out. His somewhat forbidding expression quickly gave way to a pleased smile. "Zach? Good to see you, buddy. What are you doin’ here in the middle of the day?" Zach touched knuckles with the man. "Hey, Cuz. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine." Wrapping his arm around me, he propelled me forward. "Angel, say hello to Big Tony." I hid my surprise at the sobriquet as best I could, smiling as I extended my hand. Big Tony was... well, big. That wasn’t the source of my amazement. Rather, it was the realization that there were actually people in the world who answered to such names. Zach’s acquaintance with one of them had me unsettled. It seemed to underscore the difference between us. "Angel was here last night and we think she might have left her purse. Can we take a look around?" "Sure, sure." Tony pushed the door open wider. "Come on in." As we followed him inside, I grabbed hold of Zach’s arm. "Is he really your cousin?" I whispered. Grinning, he shook his head. "Nah, just a good friend. Now, come on, see if you recognize anything." A pungent, not unpleasant fragrance tickled my nostrils as I looked around, but it elicited no clear memory. The bar was dark, cool, quiet and totally unremarkable with its wood paneling, black vinyl bar stools, neon beer signs and rows and rows of bottles. Look up unpretentious in any dictionary you care to consult, and this--or something close to it--is exactly what you’ll find. "Well?" Zach inquired. I shook my head. "Nothing." Not only did I not remember this place, but every moment I spent here left me feeling more and more certain I was out of my element. "Maybe you just need the right perspective." He gestured to a table right up front, near the small stage. "You were seated over there. Maybe things will look different if you sit down?" I shrugged. "I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try." "Good." Zach nodded at Tony, who was rummaging behind the bar. "And while you’re doing that, I’m gonna go give Tony a hand. See what we can find." I headed for the table he’d indicated. "Sorry, bud," I heard Tony tell Zach. "But, it doesn’t look like anything’s been turned in." "What about messages?" Zach asked. "Nope. Not for anyone named Angel." I seated myself at the table, facing the stage. A spotlight, set in the ceiling, seemed to cast its light directly on me. I looked around, trying to imagine the place filled with people, with noise, with music. Nothing. Feeling hopeless, I buried my face in my hands. "Here," I heard Tony say. "On the house. Maybe it’ll help cheer her up." A minute later, Zach placed a large glass filled with foamy, amber liquid in front of me. He seated himself on the other side of the table and watched as I sniffed cautiously at the glass. Once again, a little of the fragrance mystery was resolved. Whatever this was, its aroma was heavy in the cool air. "What is this stuff?" "Ale. Tony’s answer to all life’s problems." Zach grimaced slightly. "Look, I know it’s early, but just try and drink a little of it, okay? Otherwise, you’ll hurt his feelings." I took a sip. It tasted cold, crisp, slightly yeasty. "Not bad. I like it." "You like beer?" Looking almost as surprised as he was pleased, Zach leaned back in his seat and smiled at me. "Well, all right then. My kind of woman." That smile of his had a way of messing me up, big time. From some hidden, inaccessible corner of my mind came the thought that I was not his kind of woman--not even close. But, ooh, when he smiled at me that way, I so wished I was. © Copyright 2007, PG Forte. All Rights Reserved. | ||
| Jul. 16th, 2007 @ 03:31 pm Tour Info | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
This is just a quick fly-by post that I'm leaving on all my blogs to let everyone know that I'm going on a virtual tour next month. Here's the 4-1-1: Join erotic romance author PG Forte, author of Waiting for the Big One (Liquid Silver Books), as she virtually tours the blogosphere in August on her first virtual book tour! Hope to see you there! | ||
| Oct. 25th, 2006 @ 04:26 pm Chat tonight!! | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
I'm chatting tonight (Wednesday October 25) from 8-10 PM EST at Romance at Heart with my good friend author Shawna Moore. Click here for access: http://romanceatheart.com/en/cgi-bin/cha Shawna will be discussing her blazingly hot Venus Press release Deep Undercover while I'll be discussing Visions before Midnight (Book Seven in the Oberon series) which is set during the Halloween/Samhain season. Fitting, n'est pas? And, just to get you in the mood, here's an excerpt... In this scene, Erin, along with Mandy and Kate, have been trapped in the school's basement by a lunatic who's trying to kill them...  Well, at least I’m dressed for the occasion, Erin thought, giddy with fear. Filmy, black and morbid, she was wearing the perfect dress to die in. And, it wouldn’t even matter how long it took for her body to be found, because the addition of dust and cobwebs would only compliment the look. She stifled a burst of hysterical laughter, afraid that once she started, she’d never be able to stop. Can you really die laughing? After stumbling around blindly for who knows how long, waiting for her eyes to adjust, she had finally realized that they had. This was as good as it was gonna get. She’d found the wall switch, after much effort, but it no longer worked. Obviously, Olivia had cut the power from outside. The only source of light in the room was a tiny window set high in the wall; too high to reach, too small to crawl through, too thick to break. It was made of frosted glass reinforced with chicken wire, and it had been painted over at some point, from the outside. So that the light that shone through it now was dim, at best. She felt her way around the room again, looking for another door, another window, but there was nothing. Finally, defeated, she went back to the middle of the room––moving carefully, so she didn’t accidentally trip over Kate––and sat down again. "Find anything?" Mandy asked hopefully. "No," Erin replied. "Nothing." Mandy sighed. "Told you so. She wouldn’t have put us in here, otherwise." "But why lock us up at all?" Erin demanded in frustration. "What is she after?" "I don’t know," Mandy moaned. "I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know--" "Mandy, stop it!" Erin ordered, shaking her briefly. "Calm down." "I should have listened to Kate," Mandy continued sadly. "She said she was nuts, she tried to warn me. Why didn’t I listen?" "I don’t know." Why didn’t I listen to Chay? Erin wondered. He tried to warn me, too. "How’s your cousin doing, anyway?" "She’s breathing," Mandy answered. "But she’s still not really awake, and her clothes all smell like gasoline." She was quiet for a moment, and then added. "I’m really scared." "Me, too," Erin said, hugging her tight. She wished she knew if she was doing the right thing, not trying harder to wake Kate up; if she knew for certain they were getting out, she would, but– But, she didn’t know that. And the gasoline was not a good sign. Under the circumstances, perhaps it was better for Kate to stay unconscious as long as she could. Maybe they’d all be wishing they were unconscious soon, too. "I should have listened," Mandy moaned again. "If we ever get out of here, I’ll never tell her she’s imagining things again. I’ll believe everything she tells me, no matter what it is. What ifs were useless, Erin thought, they didn’t change anything. But, if I ever get out of here– What? What would she do? I’d want to see the sun rise again, she thought. I’d want to smell the veldt at daybreak, one more time. I’d want to be in love, and have a family. I’d want to do… "Something," she muttered, blinking back tears. "I’d do something." She’d do something to make her life count, that’s what she’d do. © copyright 2005 PG Forte All rights reserved. | ||
| Sep. 20th, 2006 @ 11:46 pm New Chat and Astro Contest | |||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Okay, now there's a surprise, huh? Yeah, I'm a Pisces and so is the heroine of my Venus Press release, Waiting for the Big One. Hence the reason for tomorrow's contest prize: The Venus Press authors are letting off steam for three full days this week (September 20, 21 & 22 from 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. EST) as we celebrate the end of Summer. I’ll be chatting from on Thursday, September 21 from Noon to One p.m. Since Gabby (my heroine) knows a lot about Astrology, she’s decided that one lucky winner should be chosen to receive a full-color jpg file of their Natal Chart (courtesy of my wonderful husband). The Summer Blowout Chat Party will take place at VP Chatters Yahoo Group http://groups.yahoo.com/group/VenusPress Contest details will be announced during the chat...which I guess means ya gotta be in it to win it. And now, here's a little astrology-based excerpt from Waiting for the Big One. Gabby explains a little bit about the various signs... I’d known Derek for just over a year. He used to be friends with my ex-boyfriend, Bobby. Bobby’s a Libra. Sweet tempered. Fun loving. Good looking. A liar. So, okay, maybe that last one is not necessarily a Libra trait, but it was definitely a Bobby trait. Which is why we’re no longer together. When I first met him, Derek was involved with Claire, owner of The Body Electric and, technically, his boss. Claire’s a Leo. She’s older, flamboyant, charismatic, nice when you get to know her; but, like all Leos, she has to be the one who calls the shots. For a while, I guess Derek was content to play Ashton to her Demi, but I knew it couldn’t last. They broke up shortly after I ditched Bobby, which is when Derek and I really began to hang out. I know what you’re thinking. I should have ditched Bobby sooner, and gone after Derek even before he left Claire, right? Wrong. That was never an option. Derek and I share some unfortunate character traits. We’re both faithful, loyal, committed, and even if I never had a guy for a best friend before, I do know a thing or two about friendship. Friends don’t break up each other’s relationships, that’s rule number one. They stick up for each other like the Train song says, even when you know they’re wrong. Being a Scorpio, this all comes naturally to Derek. Scorpio’s a fixed sign. Once they get an idea in their heads, no matter how stupid, they stick to it. Until hell freezes over or they come to their senses, whichever comes last. It’s been harder for me. When it comes to matters of the heart, we Pisces are not really known for our constancy. Which, believe me, is putting it nicely. If either of us had been unattached when we met, things might have been different. As it was, our relationship started out as platonic and I was sure that was how it was going to stay. Which isn’t to say that I never thought about how things might have been. I thought about Derek the whole time I was changing and all through class, as well. To tell you the truth, I was a little annoyed with us both. I suppose it wasn’t Derek’s fault that I could always get him with the submissive routine, there’s lots of guys who dig demure. But it was one more reason added to the list of why we could never be anything but friends. I’m too independent to play that kind of role for more than a couple of minutes at a time. Any longer, and I’d be bored out of my mind. Pisces are mutable water—flowing, changeable, unrestrained. That’s what makes us such good actors. Give us a role to play and we’re happy. But try and make us play that role for life? No way. It would take someone like Grace Kelly to pull off a stunt like that. You know what she was, don’t you? Yeah, that’s right. A Scorpio. © Copyright 2006 PG Forte. All Rights Reserved. For more chances to win prizes join my newsgroup:  Click to join my newsgroup ©PG Forte 2006, All Rights Reserved.
| ||||||||||
| Aug. 26th, 2006 @ 05:17 pm Contest! | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
There's a contest running on my newsgroup. Five stories of good vacations gone bad. I've posted brief synopses of the tragic tales below. To read the whole sordid story you'll have to... Instead of going to the beach like she really wanted, Sherry spent the week tearing up carpets, painting, cleaning windows, and all that other fun stuff. Then went BACK TO HER JOB, where a mountain of work awaited her. Nice. Sigh. Entry #2. Ali's 'Over the river and thru the woods' Thanksgiving Day Romp. In which her mom's home cooking is repeatedly spurned. Ali, I don't have to know your mother to appreciate this one. I know mine. And can I say...Ouch. Entry # 3. Lisa's Wrecked Road Trip. Thanks to a broken axel, a flat tire, and other assorted misadventures 3 kids, 5 adults and 2 cats get to ride together in one truck...from California to Ohio. Oh, yeah. Fun times--not! Entry # 4. Debby's Torturous Train Travels. Two families, each with a small child. One vacation. And a missing train. For me, this line said it all: "Each child wants to sit up front". Those are words sure to start the migraines pounding in any mother's head. Entry # 5. Sherry's Cross Country Truck Trek. "Can you imagine riding in the back of a pickup truck from Ohio to Arizona?" she asks us. Believe me, Sherry, I'm trying not to. But, hey, didn't Steinbeck do something like this too? ;) And what do you get for votes? Just the satisfaction of knowing that you've helped one of these deserving women win a grand prize of a 30 minute 'soundtrack' CD I've compiled based on songs I listened to while writing one of my books (which book will depend on the winner) AND a bar of gourmet chocolate--also themed toward one of my books--and which could include Dagoba Chocolate's Roseberry, Lavender, Lime or Xocolatl; Endangered Species Chocolate's Dolphin, Harp Seal, Panda, Sea Turtle or Zebra bars; or Scharffenberger Mocha or Gianduia.  To enter, you can either sign up at the newsletter home page: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/The_Oberon Or send a blank email to: The_Oberon_Chronicle-subscribe@yahoogrou Contest deadline August 31. Winner to be announced in September’s newsletter. ©PG Forte 2006, All Rights Reserved.
| ||||||||
| Aug. 6th, 2006 @ 07:06 pm Special Notice | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
For those of you who read more than one of my blogs, I apologize for the duplicate posts, but I wanted to get the word out on my latest news, and this seemed like the most expedient method.  Please stop by if you have the time. I'll be answering questions, posting excerpts...well, OF COURSE, I will!!! And giving out prizes including an autographed copy of A Sight to Dream Of which has just been released as a Trade Paperback!  I'd also like to remind everyone who hasn't yet signed up for either my newsletter or my new author's group to please do so! I'm holding monthly contests for members of these two groups only.  This contest ends on August 31. Winner will be announced in September's Newsletter. ©PG Forte 2006, All Rights Reserved.
| ||||||||
| Jul. 8th, 2006 @ 08:23 pm new contest starting! | ||||||||||||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
I'm starting something new at my newsletter: monthly contests. And yes, the whole purpose is to encourage people to sign up for the newsletter. Pretty blatant, huh?
To enter, click here: Click to join The_Oberon_Chronicle And, of course, if you're already a subscriber, you're automatically entered in this, and every month's, contest!
The second is a neat little publication called Envision Magazine "a free, monthly magazine featuring articles and information relating to Insight, Wellness, Focus, Connection and Flow." The July 2006 Issue of Envision Magazine is now available and can be downloaded at: And now, just to make things complete--yes, you guessed it--here's an excerpt! ©PG Forte 2006, All Rights Reserved.
| |||||||||||||||||||
| Jul. 3rd, 2006 @ 06:41 pm new review for Dream Under the Hill | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
I'd like to thank Charissa at Coffee Time Romance for her great review ofDream Under the Hill. Click here to read the rest of the review: http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookRev And now, here's an excerpt. ©PG Forte 2006, All Rights Reserved. Click to join The Oberon Chronicle
| ||||||||
| May. 28th, 2006 @ 05:37 pm My Cousin Bobby | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
The 'tude:
Here's a very cool video clip I found about my cousin Bobby, who died last week. I gotta say, I'm proud of the guy. melancholyThe tune: Forever Young ~ Bob Dylan Two things. 1. The story starts after the commercial. 2. His name is actually pronounced Tell-Moss. ©PG Forte 2006, All Rights Reserved.
| ||||||||
| May. 24th, 2006 @ 11:28 pm The New Book | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
 (Click on the cover for more info) Now, here's a really short excerpt. In this scene, Jack, my newest villain, considers the consequences of his actions... ©PG Forte 2006 All Rights Reserved
| ||||||||
| May. 21st, 2006 @ 04:39 pm A gloomy scene--because it's raining again! | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Well, you know, that doesn’t sound too bad after all. It’s a far different fate than awaits too many of my characters, however. Here’s a scene from A Sight to Dream Of. A body is discovered during the annual Coastal Cleanup. And Nick is none too happy about it… ©PG Forte 2006, All Rights Reserved.
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| May. 21st, 2006 @ 04:35 pm A gloomy scene--because it's raining again! | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Well, you know, that doesn’t sound too bad after all. It’s a far different fate than awaits too many of my characters, however. Here’s a scene from A Sight to Dream Of. A body is discovered during the annual Coastal Cleanup. And Nick is none too happy about it… ©PG Forte 2006, All Rights Reserved.
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| May. 18th, 2006 @ 06:59 pm Excerpt from my newsletter... | |||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
The new issue of my newsleter, The Oberon Chronicle, has just been released. It's easy to subscribe, just click on the following link. But, here's the excerpt from it, just to keep you interested. This is from Dream under the Hill I had a hell of a time picking out this month’s excerpt. Not sure why that is. But I finally settled on this one. It’s a scene between Cara and Liam at The Church of Truth, Light and Vision––the cult where Cara lives and which Liam is trying to infiltrate. I love these two, they pine so nicely for each other. And this is just the beginning … Cara kept one eye on Liam, watching as he worked his way around the room, cozying up first to one group, and then the next. What was he doing, anyway? Was he so sure Gregg would invite him to stay that he’d decided to get a jump start on introducing himself to his new housemates? Or maybe he was campaigning. Maybe he thought Gregg would put things like that to a vote. As if. What he should have done was to come to her. Everyone else understood that was how things worked around here; that they had to go through her, if they wanted anything from Gregg. Well, okay, not quite everyone got that. Most of the guys did, though. And Liam was definitely a guy. So she was kind of surprised he hadn’t figured that out yet. She poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned back against the table, watching the room, absently tugging at her skirt, which kept riding up. The skirt was too short to begin with, and a little too tight, as well. The only reason she was wearing it was because Gregg liked it. He’d been angry all day, and she was hoping the skirt would cheer him. She gave it another sharp tug, and winced as the bandage on her wrist brushed against her thigh and sent pain shooting up her arm. Shit, it was really hurting her tonight. Gregg had cut her again––a little more deeply than before. And she wasn’t all that certain he hadn’t done it that way on purpose, either. He’d been in a weird ass mood when she got back yesterday. Cold. Angry. Meaner than usual. Almost like he knew she’d been to see Seth. And then, when he had her in bed...it was almost as if he were making a point. Making sure she understood who she belonged to. Seth... No. She sipped her coffee, glanced around the room again, and completely ignored that idiot voice whispering in her mind. God, what a stupid idea that was. She so did not belong to Seth. She never had. Seth wasn’t even remotely interested in her. He was in love with a phantom. Some ghost of a girl he hadn’t seen in a billion years, and probably never would again. And, all the while, here she was... But that was guys for you, wasn’t it? Idiots. All of them. She didn’t need Seth dumb ass Cavanaugh, anyhow. Other than for tutoring, that is. For everything else...she had Gregg. And that should be enough for anyone. She shuddered just a little as she thought of that. More than enough, sometimes. Really, it made her wonder why she even bothered with guys at all. They weren’t worth it, that was for sure. They were nothing but a big, fat pain most of the time. Even Gregg. Hell, especially Gregg. Pain and pleasure... She had no idea why people always said those two things went together. They didn’t. There was nothing pleasurable about pain, other than when it finally stopped. And feeling good really didn’t have to hurt, not unless you wanted it to. Which she didn’t. Which she couldn’t seem to make Gregg understand. Stupid, stupid, stupid... She slammed the coffee cup down on the table, ignoring the startled looks from those close enough to notice, crossing her arms and glaring at the whole room. Would this evening never be over? She was tired, damn it. After a lousy couple of days and an even worse night, she’d had enough. She wanted to jump on the table and yell at everyone to clear out. Leave. Go home. Go away––so she could go to bed. Or she wanted to crawl beneath the table and disappear. Curl up on the floor, where no one would think to look for her. Go to sleep. Stay there until morning. Safe. Hidden. No one to bother her. Not that anyone was bothering her, at the moment. Like Liam, for instance. He didn’t even seem to realize she was here tonight. She tried not to feel hurt about that, about the way he was ignoring her. Tried not to feel too disappointed that, for once, he wasn’t hanging around all night, pestering her with questions. Because, crap, why would she be disappointed about something like that, for? Was she crazy? That wasn’t anything she wanted. He’d been a major, freakin’ pain in the ass, the last two times he’d been here; getting in her way, asking too many questions, and just…hanging around and hanging around, until she was sure Gregg would notice and get mad. Shit, she was glad to be rid of him. All she really wanted was for Gregg to be finished interviewing people in his office—which also happened to be their bedroom. She just wanted to be able to say goodnight and pass out for a good six, or eight hours. With none of Gregg’s middle-of-the-night bullshit prayer circle drills to disturb her. No requests that she get up and fix him a snack. No demands that she roll over and let him snack on her. No handcuffs. No straps. No knives. Just a solid night of nothing. Yeah, and how likely was that to happen? Not too. And, with Gregg still ticked off at her, like he probably was? Even less so. She shot another glance at Liam––who was still ignoring her. He’d been on the list of people Gregg wanted to meet with tonight, too, wasn’t he? Great. It looked like she’d been right the first time. This night would never be over. It would just go on and on and– oh, fuck, no. Not now… Liam excused himself from the group he was in, and made his way across the room to where Cara was standing, arms crossed, glowering at him. Her eyes flickered away as he approached. "Okay, what’s wrong?" he asked as he came to a stop in front of her. She shifted restlessly, looked up at him for a moment, and then shrugged. "I don’t know what you’re talking about." "Sure, you do," he replied, stifling his impatience when her eyes went wide and she treated him to the blankest, most innocent-looking stare he’d ever yet seen, "I’m talking about the way you’ve been glaring at me all night. If your eyes were lasers I’d have two holes burned in the back of my skull by now." "Get over yourself, dude," she advised as she turned away, and started pouring coffee once again. "I was so not staring at you." "You were, and, I’d like to know why. Are you mad at me?" Cara huffed out an exasperated breath. She shook her head, then she turned back around and handed him the cup. "Look, I’m not mad and I wasn’t staring––okay?" She shrugged and put on the innocent act again. "I suppose I was just surprised to see you. I’d almost forgotten you were here tonight." "Is that a fact?" Liam asked, knowing darn well it wasn’t. And then, even though he was still pretty sure she was just a kid and way too young for him, he couldn’t help but tease her. "So, what is it you’re not saying? You missed me?" Her pretty face heated up. "As if!" she muttered, dropping her gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. "No. Not even." "Oh, I think that must be it," Liam continued to tease, smiling at her embarrassment. She looked even cuter with her face all flushed. Then his eyes focused on her hand as it rubbed her wrist, at the bandage encircling her arm. His smile flatlined. A trickle of dread sluiced through him. "What happened to your arm?" She glanced at him quickly, eyebrows raised in surprise. And then, just as quickly, looked away again. Dropping her gaze once more and shrugging negligently. "Nothing. I- I cut myself." "Was it on purpose?" That brought her head back up in a hurry. "What? Why would you say that?" "Because I know it’s something a lot of girls do," he said, feeling a sudden surge of sympathy for her. "Unhappy girls. Troubled girls." Sick girls who need help. Girls who don’t belong within miles of a place like this. "You want to talk about it?" Cara’s eyes widened. "You- you mean, you think I– No." She shook her head vigorously. "No, you’ve got it all wrong. That’s not– That isn’t what happened." "Oh, really?" Liam studied her face, trying to read the look in her eyes. But they told him nothing. Either she was damn good at playing dumb, or he was dead wrong about her being a cutter. Dead being the operative word here. He needed everything working for him while he was in this place. He needed all his instincts, all the time, or he could very well end up dead, himself. "Look," he urged her. "You can trust me. If there’s something–" "No," she said, straightening quickly, warning him to silence with her eyes. She shook her head. "No, I don’t need any help cleaning up. But, thank you for asking." Huh? Liam blinked and then went still as the air around him seemed to chill. He turned to find Gregg observing him with cold curiosity in his eyes and a smile of reptilian slyness curving his lips. ♥ © 2006 PG Forte All Rights Reserved
| ||||||||
enthralled
horny
cheerful
cold
groggy
moody