Wednesday, February 8, 2012


In my urban fantasy, GLORY, the blood of the seventeen-year-old heroine, Glory, contains the cure for a deadly pandemic plague. A witch named Kaia, an angel named Dominic, and a vampire named Zane are assigned to be her bodyguards. In the midst of their quest to save humanity, Glory is overcome by desire for Zane. Then, in her words:

     I wondered if he was sharing this intense electromagnetic current with me. At the same time that all of these thoughts and feelings were flooding me, I experienced a dreadful sense of shame that I could have selfish interests at a time of such horror in the world. I glanced across the table and saw Dominic watching me.
     “Yearning preceded creation, caused creation, and sustains it,” Dominic said. “It’s what holds the atoms together. Yearning is nothing to be ashamed of.”

My novels run the gamut from young adult urban fantasy, to comic chick lit, paranormal romance, canine chick lit, and paranormal thrillers. The one constant in all the worlds I create is desire.

It is indeed what holds the atoms together.

In my paranormal chick lit romance novel, RED HOT LIBERTY, Molly becomes the leader of a band of rebel patriots. Mata Hari-style, she must seduce her former lover, Jake, into helping them:

     Molly stepped out of her car and froze. She had wanted to kiss him again for so long and now it was her sacred mission as leader of the rebellion. The prospect was both thrilling and terrifying. Jake took a few steps toward her and stopped as if he sensed her storm clouds. She knew his emotions were also a tempest because lightning crossed the expanse between them, jumping from cloud to cloud, and the strike practically knocked her to the ground. She used the car to steady herself as rolling thunder rocked her world.
     Their eyes locked, and she was lost.
     He came to her slowly, intently. His fingers drew her hand to his mouth and his soft breath sighed into her palm. He bent to bury his face in her hair, and she closed her eyes, inhaling his familiar scent of leather and pipe tobacco. Every cell in her body seemed to respond to the memory, long-buried embers exploding in flame.
He looked at her, and his fingers traced the contours of her face.
     “I can’t breathe,” she managed to say.
     “I’ll be your breath,” he whispered.
     He leaned into her, the length of his body pressing hers back against the car. His expression was tender as their lips came together and their tongues, former dance partners, remembered familiar steps.
     He breathed life back into her once again, as he had with that first kiss so long ago. Their connection drew forces from the center of the earth, and she felt incredibly alive.

Yearning holds the atoms together.

In my paranormal thriller, THRESHOLD, a seventeen-year-old cowgirl named Leah discovers the fire in her belly isn’t for boys:

     “Any particular boy you’re hot for?” Nita asked.
     Leah shook her head. “That’s the problem, I guess. Just not been in love yet.”
     “Never felt fire in your belly for anyone?”
     Leah stopped walking Dixie and stroked the horse’s face, certain that her own face reflected the same shade of red. When it came to the land of sex, Leah had always been a foreigner unable to speak the language or navigate the terrain.
     Nita stood, walked to them, and offered Dixie a handful of hay. The horse nibbled cautiously at first, and then with greater interest.
     Relief blew through Leah. “Her stomach’s okay. She’s going to be fine.”
     Nita stepped closer to Leah. When Leah turned to look at her, Nita grabbed her by the hair at the back of her head, pulled her face close, and drew her lips to her own. Startled, Leah tried to resist the unexpected, but weakened as Nita’s kiss stole her breath. Like Dixie, she discovered her appetite, and it grew by the moment. Hungry, she devoured the food Nita offered. Thunder filled her blood. A rumble escaped her throat. Limbs trembled in the wild wind.
     Nita pulled back and slipped her hand into Leah’s waistband, hot palm against bare skin. Lightning struck with such force that Leah staggered.
     “Now you’ve discovered fire in the belly,” Nita whispered. “Figure out what to do with it.”
     When Nita strode out of the barn, Leah stood like a young tree in a fierce storm, its tender roots desperately clinging to hold on to a turbulent new world.

Yearning holds the atoms together.

One of the most colorful of all my characters is a gorgeous show dog named Talisman who appears in RED HOT PROPERTY, RED HOT LIBERTY, and SHOW DOG SINGS THE BLUES. She is in a forbidden, star-crossed romance with another show dog named Chance. She visits him whenever possible:

     In a wanton display of canine coquettishness, Talisman danced for Chance. She dipped low in a coy play bow and then bounced up and butt-slammed him. In response, Chance smiled and twisted his body into a U-shape and wiggled toward her. She chirped and trilled, and he chattered his teeth. Talisman stared at him with a wild gleam in her eyes, batting her eyelashes in a decidedly come-hither manner. Chance smacked his lips and nuzzled her ear. Both shook their tailless bottoms shamelessly. It was a tragic tale of tailless tragedy.

Yearning holds the atoms together...

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Copyright © 2012 by Devin O’Branagan

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