Lovesick Sneak Peek

Hey guys!  I believe I promised you something exciting this week!

I announced several months ago that my second book, Lovesick, would be coming out later this year.  I am pleased to report that it will be coming out a month sooner than I had anticipated, so look for it on Amazon in mid October!  (Don't worry, I'll do a post as soon as it comes out.)

For today, I'd like to give you an exclusive sneak peek at Lovesick.  Without further ado, here is the first chapter!

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Flynn Carter sat in front of his computer, his office darkened around him.  The screen glared brightly at him as the black cursor blinked in white emptiness, taunting him with his failure.

It should have been so easy; the first novel was the one that ought to have caused him problems.  He had started off with some cheesy supernatural romance novel, knowing that there was a market for it.  The publishers had leapt on the story and the populace had loved it.  Flynn was given his big break, and knew that he could now write anything he wanted - it would be so much easier to get it published as an already successful author.

That had been over a year ago.  He had enjoyed a few months off and then sworn to the reporters that something new and even better was coming.  A deadline had been set, and he had sat down and prepared to write.

And then - it struck.  The dreaded writer's block.

Now Flynn sat before his computer, with only two weeks left before he was supposed to hand something over to his agent.  He had tried everything, from historical action to sci-fi mystery, and even another paranormal romance like his first.  Nothing clicked; no story seemed as good as his first book, and that had been terrible.  He was stuck, and swiftly running out of time.

His watch chirped three and Flynn cursed softly, running a hand through his slick black hair.  His page stared blankly at him, the cursor still silently mocking him from its emptiness.  Flynn groaned as he leaned back, wishing that the inspiration he had once felt would return to him.

There was a soft knock on the front door, and Flynn blinked.  He looked again at his watch, verifying the time, and then glanced incredulously down the hall towards the door.  Perhaps he was imagining things.

Flynn heaved a sigh and turned back to his monitor, refusing to call it a night until he had written something, however bad.  He reached for the keyboard -

Again there came a knock on the door, this time more insistent.  Flynn turned to look at it, grumbling to himself.  He obviously was not imagining things, which made this an all-time low for the reporters.  Sure, they had ambushed him before, but never this late - or rather, this early, he corrected himself.  Maybe if he ignored them they would go away, buying him a little more time before he had to admit his failure.  Logically speaking he should be asleep at three in the morning, right?  Hopefully they would take his silence as a sign of his slumber.

Flynn turned to his computer once more, determined.  Perhaps he would write a story about a nosy reporter who got caught up in nasty business and received their comeuppance...it was a better idea than some he'd had, and the thought of it filled him with a certain vindictive pleasure.  He reached for the keyboard again -

A fist pounded hard on his door several times, and Flynn let out a loud curse.  He shoved back his rolling chair so hard that it hit the bookshelf on the opposite wall and stood, seething as he walked towards the door.  This reporter was going to get what was coming to him, that was for sure.  Flynn was not amused at being bothered this late, and he would make sure that he made that clear.  Flynn flung open his door with murderous intent...and found his tirade brought up short.

Before him stood the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.  Her auburn hair fell in gentle waves to her slender waist, and her long white dress showed off her tanned skin.  A simple golden band wrapped its way up her forearm, perfectly matching the metal of her intricately woven belt.  Her bodice was low cut but tasteful, a thin chain necklace dangling just low enough to make Flynn wonder.  Her lips were full, her cheekbones stunning.  Wide olive eyes gazed at him without any hint of self-consciousness.  If the woman wore any makeup, it was subtle enough to not be noticeable - but Flynn doubted she wore any.  She simply didn't need it; she was honestly perfect.  Had she been a character in his book, Flynn could not have described her in any way to make her seem more beautiful.  Even her bare feet added to her elegance and mystery.

Flynn finally realized that he was staring and blinked.  "You're not a reporter," he guessed.

She threw back her head and laughed, which did interesting things to her neckline.  Flynn fought to keep his focus on her face.  "Indeed not, Flynn Carter.  But I do very much wish to interview you."

He frowned, disappointed.  "I'm sorry, lady, but maybe another time.  It's pretty late."

She pouted, just a little, and Flynn's heart skipped a beat.  "I understand, but I really do need to talk to you.  You see, I'm in terrible trouble."

Flynn raised an eyebrow.  "I don't know how I can help you, then.  I'm just a writer."

The woman breathed a sigh.  "Oh, you're much more than that, Flynn.  Please, can we not sit down?"  She breezed past him and glided into his apartment as though she owned it, and Flynn didn't even try to stop her.  He was obviously hallucinating - why not just let it play out?  He nudged the door shut behind him as he followed her into the living room.

The woman was already stretched out and lounging on the couch when he entered, and Flynn gingerly sat across from her, afraid that any sudden moves would make her disappear.  She smiled languidly at him as he settled down, and once again he had to blink and force himself to stay focused.

"What kind of trouble are you in, my lady?" he asked.

She beamed at him.  "Ooh, such a gentleman!  Well, it is a matter of some delicacy.  You see, my son has been stolen, and I fear that you are the only one who will believe me."

Flynn's eyes widened, his disappointment at her motherhood - and possible husband - outweighed by his concern.  "If your son has been kidnapped, then you should be talking to the police!  I'd be happy to take you down to the station -"

She shook her head, her hair flowing behind her as she did so.  "No, you still don't see.  Perhaps it would be simpler if you knew who my son is.  His name is Eros."

The writer frowned as his mind turned.  The name was familiar, but he couldn't think where he knew it from.  The woman leaned forward as if she sensed his confusion.  "Yes, Eros - but you might know him better by his Roman form, Cupid.  And I, noble sir, and Aphrodite."

Flynn felt his eyebrows climb as she settled back onto the couch.  For some reason his subconscious had decided to introduce him to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love.  Well, fine - this was a story just begging to be told, and he wanted to see where his hallucination led him.  "Alright, sure.  Who took your son?"

She beamed and clapped her hands.  "Oh, I just knew you would believe me!  But you see, that's the thing.  I don't know who took him.  All I know is that he disappeared a week ago, and I'm terribly worried.  None of the other gods know anything - or if they do they're keeping quiet."

Flynn frowned and leaned forward in his chair, struggling to channel some mystery novel hero.  What would they do in this situation?  What would Nathan Fillion do?  "Well, it's true that I believe you, but how do you think I could possibly help?" he hedged.

Her smile grew.  "Ah, but that is the easy part!  You will be my champion.  I'm going to send you on a quest.  We gods have been doing that for quite some time now, you know."

"Hold on - I'd love to help you, but I don't think I'm qualified for a quest-"

She cut him off.  "Oh, nonsense!  Besides, I doubt you'll be alone.  Other heroes always seem to show up to help on quests like this.  I just need you to be the one to lead the quest; you see, you possess the mind of a writer, always dissecting and looking for plot and motivation.  You'll be able to get to the bottom of this, I just know it!"
Flynn stared at her incredulously.  "And just where would you suggest I start looking for a stolen god?"

Aphrodite frowned delicately, not seeming to catch his sarcasm.  "Well, that is the question!  I don't know who took my son, but it must have been someone of some power.  I would think another god the mostly likely suspect, maybe even one of the other pantheons.  I'm afraid I just can't think who would do this to me!  Unless..."

"Unless?" he prompted eagerly.

She bit her lip, a move that made her look incredibly vulnerable.  "Well, you see - you do know the myths, don't you?"

Flynn nodded.  "I'm a bit rusty on my Greek mythology, but I remember the basics."

She bestowed an angelic smile upon him.  "Oh, good!  That will help considerably.  Well, you see, I have a husband - Hephaestus.  I was forced into the marriage, and neither of us have made it too easy on the other.  I'm afraid that Eros isn't his son...and I wonder if Hephaestus might be behind all of this."

The writer frowned, his mind turning.  "Where would I find Hephaestus?  And why not confront him yourself?"

Aphrodite gave a shudder, her eyes widening with fear.  "Oh, but he is a brute!  I don't know what I could do if he was the one who took my baby...and I'm afraid I don't know where to look.  You would need to have some way of contacting him, I suppose.  Perhaps someone in the Order?"

"What Order?  And what am I supposed to do if it is him?  I can't exactly take on a god!"
The goddess covered her mouth.  "Oh, I'm so embarrassed!  I haven't mentioned the Order yet?  Well, no need to worry, I'm sure someone will be along soon to explain it to you.  You'll need this, by the way."  Daintily she slipped off her bracelet, handing it to Flynn.  He stared in surprise as it changed from a feminine gold band to a thick masculine watch, almost an exact match of the one he wore.  Aphrodite smiled at him as he gawked at her.  "Don't worry, dear, that should help you.  As to what you should do when you find the kidnapper, well - as I said, I doubt you'll be alone.  And now I really must be off!"

Flynn stood as she headed for the door, his mind full of questions.  "Wait, but - please, I don't understand!"
She turned to him and gave him a stunning smile - literally stunning, as it stopped him in his tracks.  "You will understand soon enough.  Be well, Flynn; and please, find my son.  You're my only hope."

Flynn stared helplessly as she closed the door, shutting herself out of his apartment.  The room seemed dark without her there, as though all of the beauty had left with her.  Flynn hesitated for a moment before he made up his mind and flung open the door, determined to get some answers - only to find the outside hallway empty.  All that was left was the subtle scent of her perfume.

The writer heaved a sigh and closed his door, leaning against it as he slowly sunk to the floor.  This was definitely the most interesting dream he'd had in quite some time, and he couldn't wait to write it all down when he woke up.  This would make a great story!  Still, Flynn wished it made a little more sense.  He had too many questions and not enough answers - and he had absolutely no idea where to start.

He frowned, his eyes closed as he tried to sort things out.  What was this Order she had mentioned?  Who was going to explain it to him, and what, exactly, where they going to explain?  How in the world were other people going to join his quest when he himself didn't fully understand what the quest was?

Flynn opened his eyes and fingered the watch she had given him, eventually slipping it on in place of his old one.  It seemed to glow with a rainbow light, and Flynn ran a finger across the watch's prismatic glass face before standing.

Flynn blinked as he looked around.  It wasn't just the watch that shone with all the colors of the rainbow - it was his entire apartment.  The author stared as the beams grew more solid, the colors more vibrant.  A sort of cheer seemed to fill the air, though not nearly so strong as the emotions the goddess had brought with her.

The writer frowned, struggling to remember the name of the goddess who ruled over the rainbow image he saw before him.  Isis? he thought.  No, no Isis - "Iris!  Is that you?"

The rainbow shimmered and a sound like a thousand soft windchimes filled the air.  Flynn gazed in wonder as the rainbow before him solidified into a gate, which swung open to reveal a glimmering opalescent bridge that arced into the ceiling.  A pair of shoes appeared at the top, walking down slowly to reveal black slacks, a casual shirt with a flannel jacket overtop, and a head of curly black hair.  The man smiled shyly at Flynn as he descended, a glass pan that smelled strongly of cinnamon held out in front of him.  Flynn backed up, more to give the stranger room to get off of the bridge than out of fear.  At this point, he was way too interested to be afraid.

"Hello," the man said as he stepped into the living room, the rainbow bridge slowly fading behind him.  He seemed completely calm, as if he found himself transported by a rainbow goddess to a stranger's living room all the time.  Maybe he did, mused Flynn, as the man held out his hand.  "My name is Tom."

I hope you guys enjoyed chapter one of Lovesick!  I'd love to hear what you thought of it - please comment below or email me!  Your input is always appreciated.  As I said before, Lovesick will be coming out October of this year.  If you guys haven't read the first Chosen of the Gods book, Hammerfall, you can find links to Amazon and Barnes & Noble on the right.  Thank you for your support!

I'll be back with an Intro to Arthurian Legend next week.  I hope you have a wonderful week, and I'll see you then!