A Gay Christmas Story by Valentino DeMitri

I have to confess that I have a huge crush on Santa; I’ve always had a thing for older men. Working for his organization is a family thing. My mother still works for him. My father did too, before he deserted us shortly after I was born to run off with an elf with pointier ears than Mom. Last I heard, he had a gig acting in The Hobbit. No word on what became of Miss Pointy Ears, except rumor has it she dumped him for an elf from Lord of the Rings.

The weeks before Christmas are always wild and crazy in Santa’s workshop, and sightings of him are fleeting. However, today I am suddenly aware of The Man himself standing behind my chair, watching me work.

“Gah!” I say when I look up into his jolly face. I always considered his demeanor to be so—dare I say it?—gay.

Santa stroked his beard and looked down at my GI Joe. I could smell the scent of peppermint on his breath. For a moment, I got a whiff of mistletoe and frantically looked up, hoping someone had helpfully hung a sprig right above us. 

“The sparkling pink pasties glued over his nipples are an interesting touch,” he finally said.

I held up my GI Joe masterpiece, pride washing through me. “Well, initially, they would be hidden by his uniform.”

Santa stroked his beard—such a sensuous caress—and nodded. “Ah, I see. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“Yes!”

He looked me in the eye. Me! I felt the tips of my pointy ears grow hot. Then he glanced down at my name tag. “Spock, is it?”

“My mother was a Trekker.”

“Clever name.”

It was the first time I hadn’t been teased about it, which caused me to fall even deeper in love than before...if such a thing were possible.

Santa looked thoughtful for a few, timeless moments before he asked, “Are you romantically involved with someone right now?”

What? I shook my head to clear my brain. What did he ask me?

He grinned. “Great. Why don’t you come over to my place for dinner tonight?”

“Gah!” was my eloquent reply.

Omigod. Dinner with Santa!

He slapped me on the back, a hearty—but assuredly intimate—gesture. “See you at six, my boy.”

Twinkle, the pretty elf who worked next to me, stared at Santa as he walked away. “Seriously?” she asked. “Dinner with The Man? None of us ever get invited to have dinner with him.”

To boldly go where no elf has gone before.

*          *          *

As I knocked on the door to his house, I pushed the multitude of questions out of my mind. The big one that had been bothering me all day was: what about Mrs. Claus? Had Santa sent her off to test drive the reindeer? I struggled with the moral dilemma of having dinner with a married man. What would my mother say? What if Santa wanted to kiss me? Should I play hard to get? Would he think me easy if I planted myself under any and all mistletoe I could locate? As waves of angst coursed through me, Mrs. Claus swung open the door and greeted me with a toothy smile.

“Hello, Spock! So glad you could join us this evening.”

“Gah?”

In a daze, I stumbled inside their warm cabin and melted into a soft chair near the roaring fireplace.

“Would you like some hot cider, dear?” Mrs. Claus asked.

Mutely, I nodded.

Santa’s hearty laugh snapped me out of my stupor, and I jumped to my feet. Walking into the room at his side was another, younger man. Not as soft and cuddly as Santa, he was nevertheless handsome. And he was bald, just like Jean Luc Picard. A sigh escaped me. I liked bald men—the look was so...dare I say...phallic?

Santa introduced him. “Spock, this is my baby brother, Sven. He’s visiting from Sweden where he works on the Norwegian Nobel Peace Prize Committee.”

I took note of the smart military uniform Sven wore. “You serve in one of the armed services?” I managed to somehow ask, proud of myself for being able to finally master a complete sentence.

Sven grinned and gave me a coy wink. “No, but my brother told me how much you like men in uniform.”

He flexed his muscles, a button flew from his shirt, and I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a...no...could it possibly be? A pink pastie!

I swooned as visions of sugar plum fairies danced in my head.

Note From Devin O'Branagan

Valentino DeMitri is the most popular character I have ever created, and critics labeled him "the best gay character in fiction." He woke me in the middle of the night recently and dictated this holiday story to me. We hope it made you laugh. If you would like to discover the beauty, wit, and charm of Val, please read The Red Hot Novels. You can learn more at www.RedHotNovel.com

Red Hot Property is available as an eBook and in print at Amazon

 Copyright © 2012 – Devin O’Branagan – All Rights Reserved

Valentino DeMitri

Wishing all our readers a joyful holiday season!

(Please note: All character representations on my blog and website are professional models.)

The Christmas Dance

I wrote this story as a holiday gift to my fans. It is a prequel to Show Dog Sings the Blues and The Red Hot Novels. The Christmas Dance is a touching tale that sheds light on the characters in those books, and speaks to what I believe is the true message of the season: Love is the greatest gift we can give one another.
 
Please enjoy The Christmas Dance:

My name is Talisman and I'm an Australian Shepherd. My person is Valentino DeMitri, and he's the heart of our family, our brilliant sun.

Peter, the man Val loved, was the moon reflecting Val's sun. He was gentle, shy, and fragile, so Val and I focused our energies on caring for him. Peter even inspired my latent maternal instincts. For some strange reason I always found comfort in licking his feet, probably because they were both left feet. At least that's what Val said. I figured it was some kind of human frailty and perhaps my sincere attention to them might remedy the situation.

The week before Christmas, Peter was killed by a drunk driver. Grief became a giant black hole that swallowed every bit of our light.

Val wouldn't get out of bed for days, so I crawled in next to him. My fur soaked up his tears, and my love absorbed a measure of his anguish. Humans came and went, bringing food and sympathy. However, at the end of the day it was just the two of us clinging to each other, wishing with all our combined might that we could change the unchangeable.

"Before Peter drove off I gave him a hard time about not being able to do the dance routine," Val told me with a shuddering sob. "God forgive me, that was the last thing I said to him."

Val and Peter had been preparing for a Christmas Eve recital at Cafe au Gay. Tap dance was a challenge for Peter.

"If only I had told him how much I loved him!"

I felt so helpless.

My stomach growled. Lost in grief, Val had forgotten to feed me. As I pondered my dilemma, I remembered that his mother, Margo, left a freshly baked cheesecake on the kitchen counter. I gently disentangled myself from Val's arms, jumped off the bed, and made my way down the hall into the kitchen. My toenails clacked on the tile floors, echoing in the tomblike silence.

Earlier, when Margo came over, she plugged in all the Christmas lights. Now that darkness had settled, the house was awash in a bath of brilliant colors. It reminded me of the stages on which I had seen Val and Peter perform. We had always been a show biz family. Margo taught theater arts, Val danced, Peter sang, and I had once won Best in Show at Westminster. I thought about how Val had always insisted that the show must go on. I was afraid he would forget how to do that now.

My nose led me straight to the cheesecake, perched enticingly within my reach. My hind legs steadied me while my front paws reached for the pie. Carefully, I pulled it to the edge of the counter and flipped it onto the floor where it landed with a fragrant splat. I dived into the sweet, creamy concoction with gusto.

"Why, Miss Talisman! Aren't you just a naughty little Talismanian devil?"
         
The familiar voice startled me. Peter? I swung around, and there he was. Peter wasn't the first ghost I'd seen, but I had never been so thrilled to see one before. Peter! I bounded over to him, and he knelt to greet me. I tried to press the top of my head into his chest, but his body was just a shimmer of light that I passed right through.

"Whoa, did you feel that?" Peter asked.

When we merged it had been warm and tingly, and a faint veil of sparks flew.

"Do it again," Peter said.

Carefully, I pressed the top of my head into the middle of him, and I was filled with his sweetness; he was sweeter than cheesecake.

"It's like we're inside each other," he said.

My Border Collie friend, Bippity Boppity Boo, has a person who is a medium. I once heard her say that psychics could sometimes body-share. Was that what was happening?

"I can't move on until I make things better for Val," Peter said. "Will you help me?"

*          *          *

We started slowly. Now Peter really did have two left feet, but he also had two right ones for balance. And he had me to help; I was famous for being a wonderful dancer.

Time seemed to stand still while we struggled to synchronize ourselves. I closed my eyes and surrendered to Peter while he took over and showed me the dance steps. Then I exerted myself and coordinated the movements to include my two extra limbs. We encouraged each other, conquered our doubt, and when the flow of time returned, we were tap dancing our shared hearts out. The clickety-clack of my toenails on the tile sounded like tap dance shoes.

Val appeared at the kitchen door. "Tali?"

"It's show time," Peter whispered to me.

Together, we performed a flawless four-legged version of the dance Peter had been trying to learn for the Christmas recital. We finished with flourish and took a well-deserved bow.

Val gasped. "Omigod...Peter?"

We dance-shuffled over to Val and sat down at his feet. We reached out to him with my front paw; he grasped it and fell to his knees.

We leaned forward and blew into Val's left ear, just like sweet Peter had always done.

Val was breathless when he said what he had longed to say. "I'll always love you."

We nuzzled Val's neck, and Peter gave him a gentle kiss goodbye.

*          *          *

Copyright © 2011 - Devin O'Branagan - All Rights Reserved

Author’s Note

My Australian Shepherd, Kolbe, died two days after Christmas. For a week following her passing, my other Aussie, Jazz, morphed into a startling replica of her. Kolbe’s expressions, mannerisms, and unique behaviors were all mirrored by Jazz. I was in such a state of grief that I didn’t immediately notice the transformation. It was my veterinarian who pointed it out to me. She said, “They’re body-sharing. I’ve seen it before. It won’t last long, but it will help them both with the transition.” A week later, Jazz was Jazz again. It was the first time I had ever heard of such a thing, but the experience was undeniable. It helped to teach me that life is full of great mystery and wonder, and it inspired this story. I hope it touched your heart.

“Love is stronger than death.” – Preacher Levi,  Red Hot Liberty

To learn more about The Red Hot Novels, please visit www.RedHotNovels.com

Method Writing and Crazy Novelists

In twenty years of being a professional author I’ve had a lot of strange adventures and created a bunch of crazy characters. The riskiest part of what I do as a novelist is to practice “method writing.” As in “method acting,” I “become” my characters so they come across as realistic. No wonder I am a neurotic mess.

I’ve been the Antichrist, a female version of the second coming of Christ, witches, demons, angels, vampires, drag queens, Cher impersonators, tin-foil-hat-wearing conspiracy theorists, and dogs...a whole hell of a lot of dogs. Oddly, I do dogs best. Go figure.

In my paranormal thriller, THRESHOLD, I was a tween boy who drowns, has a near-death experience, and returns with a mission. First off, I must mention boys that age sure think about sex a lot, don’t they? It was hard to get past all Cole’s lustful yearning to stay on track and save the world. Besides Cole’s compulsive desire for a hot sixteen-year-old redhead named April, he’s also a die-hard Trekkie. So, of course he sees the after-death tunnel of light as a wormhole, and the divine guide on the other side as the omnipotent Q from the Star Trek franchise. He ponders profound Star Trek episodes in order to work out metaphysical dilemmas. (Thank goodness I had a ten-year-old Trekker on Twitter to consult with about such divine matters.) And Cole sits at the bar of the Desperado Saloon waxing philosophic by the hour, pausing every once in a while to tell the barkeep to, “Hit me again.” Bartender Saul stifles his amusement as he tops off Cole’s frosty mug of root beer.

I really enjoyed being Cole, especially since he ends up being the most heroic character I ever created. My own earliest fantasies involved saving the world and because of my writing I’ve been a superhero more times than I could have ever imagined. I love my job.

However, I also love being a dog. I really, really do. Perhaps this is something I should discuss in detail with the veterinarian, um, psychiatrist on my next visit.

*          *          *

Read the first chapter of THRESHOLD here: http://www.devinwrites.com/bookexcerpts/thresholdchapterone.html

*          *          *

THRESHOLD is available in both print and as an eBook. Find links to where it may be purchased here: http://www.devinwrites.com/threshold.html

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Pretty Sacrifices

Wow, it has been an exciting month since my new novel, PRETTY SACRIFICES, was released! In the first week, PRETTY SACRIFICES hit Amazon's bestseller list. Reviews have been wonderful:

"Thrilling, emotional, mysterious, amazing!"

"Devin O'Branagan's best book yet!"

"Imagination at its best!"

"A great and stirring tale!"

"An adventure with depth!"

"Terrific follow-up to GLORY!"

PRETTY SACRIFICES is the second book in The Legend of Glory trilogy. In the post-apocalyptic world following a pandemic, dark angels arrive in Glory's small hometown to claim the eternal souls of her loved ones. Targeted by evil because of her heroism during the great plague, Glory fights back with the help of gutsy young witch Kaia, inexperienced guardian angel Sasha, and her intrepid demon-fighting dog Hallelujah. Complicating everything, a rift in time reunites Glory with an old flame and forces her to pay a huge price for love.

I had more fun writing this novel than any that have come before. A plot-driven writer, I worked from a tightly constructed outline, but my characters kept changing directions on me. There were three huge plot twists I totally wasn't expecting, and this sort of thing has never, ever happened to me before. I fought it at first, but then surrendered to the characters and am so glad I did. My fan mail indicates that my readers are glad I did too!

All of the fascinating characters introduced in GLORY return in PRETTY SACRIFICES: seventeen-year-old Glory and her feisty dog Hallelujah, the witches of the Moonstone and Starlight covens, a family of angels, a family of vampires, and the amazing Goth Girls gang of vamps-with-attitude. New, colorful characters abound, including the precious four-year-old Belle Starr and a mysterious physics professor who may hold the key to Glory's ties to the 19th Century. Linking them all, the demoness Nyx returns with vengeance in mind.

GLORY was nominated by the American Library Association for their Best Young Adult Paperbacks List of 2011. PRETTY SACRIFICES is a thrilling continuation of that tale. The third book in the trilogy, GENESIS, will be released in 2013.

www.GloryLegend.com

Yearning

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...

Visit my website and discover my novels so that you may become more intimate with these passionate characters: www.DevinWrites.com

  

Copyright © 2012 by Devin O’Branagan

I would love to hear your thoughts! 

Please join me on Twitter, Facebook, or my own discussion forum.

Put Down the Witch and Slowly Step Away From the Demon

The novel I am currently writing is the sequel to my urban fantasy, GLORY, titled PRETTY SACRIFICES. It's filled with all manner of beings: angels, witches, vampires, and demons. The past few days I've been working on a scene where the teenage witch, Kaia, confronts a demoness. The scene has been very intense, and as my readers will attest, my characters are always vivid and realistic.

Last night I had a dream wherein I got up from bed and went down to my kitchen. I found Kaia and a young man standing at the kitchen counter, deep in conversation. The man seemed ordinary enough: dark eyes, a bit on the short side and, as Kaia would say, "really cute." However, when I looked him in the eyes, there was something so evil about his intense stare that my mind said, "He's a real demon and this isn't just a dream." True terror filled me.

Now, even though I've been writing supernatural fiction since I was five years old (at which time I wrote a ghost story), woo hoo things just don't usually happen to me. (Okay, so I did see my dog a few times after her death, I had a near-death experience, and my intuition is stunningly accurate, but never before has a demon stood in my kitchen.) My life is petty mundane.

However, my dream became what is known as lucid, I instantly grew aware of the fact I was dreaming, and I knew in my soul that this cute young man standing in my kitchen was some sort of malevolent being. Perhaps my research for the novel had attracted unwanted attention from the dark side. I had been speaking with experts in the field of demonology and reading everything I could get my hands on regarding the subject.

Not sure if Kaia was just a dream character or another real spirit of some kind masquerading as my mental image of Kaia, my maternal instincts kicked in and I scooted her back away from the demon, then willed myself to wake up. Immediately, I found myself in my bed, but unable to awaken. Using force of will, I tried to fight my way to consciousness and open my eyes. The bed started shaking and I clutched the side of it so I wouldn't fall off, but I couldn't hold on and I crashed to the floor...which did succeed in awakening me.

Honestly, in the next few seconds this is what happened:

I thought about going for my gun, but even if it had silver bullets, the demon wouldn't be susceptible.

I thought of calling the police, but what the hell would I say?

The very next thought...I swear...was, "Oh, this would make a great blog post!" (Writers are a special breed, and a little scary in their own right.)

So, I said a prayer for protection, stood up, dusted myself off, and with great fear and trepidation walked though my house turning on every light. Then I made myself a strong cup of coffee, sat down at my computer, and began to write this blog. As I did, the laptop acted possessed: the screen winked on and off, and the program froze several times. Sometimes the pesky Internet Demons of Doom do mess with me, so I convinced myself that they were the ones wreaking havoc and, despite my trembling fingers, typed away.

Now, I am relatively sane. I realize this could have all just been a manifestation resulting from the imaginary demons I've been creating, but my intuition told me it was something else. Did I mention my intuition is stunningly accurate?!

Of course I will continue to write my novel, and I will publish this post and risk ridicule. In my novels, good always overcomes evil. I dedicated GLORY "To all those who fight the good fight against evil." Perhaps by not letting this incident get the better of me, I'm doing just that.

"A fantasy on the shoulders of a strong willed girl, Glory is not to be missed." - Midwest Book Review

GLORY was nominated for the 2011 Best Popular Paperback for Young Adults List, sponsored by the Young Adult Library Services Association (YALSA) of the American Library Association.

Seventeen-year-old Glory Templeton's blood holds the cure for a deadly pandemic-plague and she embarks on a quest to save humanity. When evil forces conspire to stop her, three supernatural beings are assigned to be her guardians. Forbidden love, ancient secret societies, mysterious astronomical monuments, witches, angels, vampires, and demons all contribute to the high adventure that tests the character of this remarkable young woman.  The legend of Glory begins!

Click here to read Glory's opening scene!

I would love to hear your thoughts! 

Please join me on Twitter, Facebook, or my own discussion forum.

Soup and Compassion

It is snowing and bitterly cold here in Colorado today, and I am working like a crazy woman trying to meet the deadline for my TAILS Magazine humor column. So I did what I aways do when it's cold and I'm crazy busy, I made a big pot of soup this morning to eat from all day. It's convenient and comforting. It's also cheap.

I make great soup. I learned the fine art of soup-making from my late maternal grandmother who was an elementary school teacher. She taught me to do the most amazing things with simple ingredients.

After Grandma died, we received a ton of mail from her former students. Something we family members didn't know about her was that throughout the Great Depression she made a pot of soup in her classroom every day for her students. For many, it was the only meal they had. Some of her students credited her incredible act of generosity with keeping them alive. Forty years later, they remembered and wrote to express their gratitude.

So, on days like today when I make wonderful soup from the most simple ingredients, I am comforted in many ways. I am warmed, I am nourished, and I am honored to remember the compassionate soul who was my grandmother.

New Novel About Near-Death Experience

Cole Dillon drowns in Deer Lake shortly before his thirteenth birthday. Elijah Thunderbird, a Native American shaman, travels between the worlds to bring Cole back from death. Unfortunately, Cole isn’t supposed to survive, and with the natural order disrupted, dark spirits follow them home.

During Cole’s near-death experience, he is assigned an important mission that involves saving the lives of many other children. However, when he is revived, he can’t remember the details and undertakes a challenging quest of discovery.

Meanwhile, the dark spirits begin to manifest in the lives of the local town residents, bringing hatred and death. When shamanic visions reveal that many young lives are indeed in imminent danger, Elijah has to help Cole find the courage to do what is required of him before it is too late.

As Elijah tries to help Cole, he struggles with his own personal demons, and both men—one young, one old—must decide how much they are willing to sacrifice in order to save others.

A moving paranormal thriller about courage, faith, and the transformative power of love.

To read an excerpt, follow this link: http://www.devinwrites.com/bookexcerpts/thresholdchapterone.html

Available as a print and eBook!

An Amazing Showcase Of My Work

The life of an author is full of angst. Well, at least my life is. I struggle to grasp hold of nebulous threads of inspiration and weave them into an artistic vision I hope will touch others. Then I worry about if I could have done it better. I stress over if I messed my commas up too badly. (Commas are my worst thing.) Then I wonder if anyone will read my books. If they do, I fret over if they liked them. I question if I am fulfilling my life purpose or should be devoting my energies elsewhere. I don't sleep enough or eat properly. I am antisocial. My world is my art and I often ask myself if all the sacrifices are worth it.

Then there are days like today. A fan surprised me with an artistic showcase of my work that features my books, reviews of what other people think of them, and interviews with me that I didn't even remember doing. It is extraordinary!

More than flattered, I am amazed that someone I don't even know would go to this much effort to honor my work. It'll make it easier to spend another eighteen hours tomorrow working on my new novel.

Please take a look at what this woman did. It is amazing:  http://www.squidoo.com/devin-obranagan

Please make a comment at the end of it to honor her creativity, time, and effort. Thank you!

Winner of Wicked Dog Contest!

GLORY, Book One of my Legend of Glory urban fantasy series, features an intrepid demon-fighting Australian Shepherd named Hallelujah (Hallie to her friends). Hallie’s job is to protect the teenage heroine, Glory, from demons, vampires, and evil scientists. Hallie has extraordinary courage. She is the Wonder Woman of the canine crowd.

I am now writing the second book in the series, and a few months ago I put out a casting call for an evil dog to be Hallelujah’s perfect foil. All I can say is, wow, there sure are a lot of wicked dogs out there!

I received a ton of photos of wild- and crazy-looking dogs that inspired nightmares for weeks and gave me exciting new ideas for my paranormal-themed novels. It took me a while to make my decision, but...hold onto your bones...the winner is Cuddy, a red merle Australian Shepherd puppy. Yes, you heard me correctly—a puppy. (Consider the fictional possibilities!) Here she is:

I am going to have fun using this puppy to create the fictional canine character I have named Hex. Hex is the evil sidekick for the demoness Nyx and is the bane of Hallie’s existence. She will give puppies everywhere a bad name.

There were so many wonderfully wicked dogs who entered the contest that the final decision was tough. So, I may try to fit some of the runner-up dogs into the novel. Perhaps they will form a roaming pack of terror to rival the novel’s sinister collection of demons, vampires, and evil scientists.

Meet a hairless Chinese Crested known as “The Beast.” Her person, Lisa, cropped this photo from a larger one she calls “Beauty and the Beast." Lisa said she cut out the image of her other dog who, “looks like he is sad to have to deal with her.”

And here is Sassy, who is truly horrifying:

Last but not least is a Border Collie named Abigail:

According to their humans, these dogs are merely yawning or playing or being their usual sweet selves.

Right. And they call me the fiction writer.

www.GloryLegend.com

Copyright © 2011 by Devin O’Branagan

Photographer credits as follows:

“Cuddy” – Terri Collins

“The Beast” – Lisa Hartman

“Sassy” – Rachel Ritland

“Abigail” – Shannon Stainton

City Witch Versus Country Witch

In my bestselling urban fantasy, GLORY, there are two powerful covens. The Moonstone Covenstead is located high in the Colorado mountains near the sacred space of Crestone. The Starlight Coven is in located in the heart of the city of Atlanta. In order to cement relations between the two covens, the Elders are attempting to arrange a marriage between eighteen-year-old Kaia, from Moonlight, and the sexy young Evan from Starlight. Kaia rebels, not only at the prospect of an arranged marriage, but because she cannot fathom how to bridge the gap between her more traditional practice of The Craft and the modern approach of the city witches. This is a conversation between Kaia and Evan:

   “But you are attached to your life here in the city.” Kaia said “city” as if it were a dirty word. “How can any self-respecting witch practice the craft in a city? You’re out of touch with nature. How do you raise energy to channel into your magic? How do you commune with the ancient powers? I mean, what you’ve got here is concrete, asphalt, power lines, graffiti, subways, busy roads, skyscrapers, nightclubs, and random gunfire. How sacred is that?”

   “It’s just a different kind of sacred, Kaia,” Evan said. “The skyscrapers are concrete caves and we’re cave dwellers. Graffiti is our cave painting, conveying symbols that represent tribal myth. The streets are rivers of movement and life. Nightclubs are temples where ritual dancing generates tremendous cones of energy.

   “Channeling energy in the city is easy; it overflows our banks. Both the concentration of people and those power lines you mention are tremendous reservoirs. Instead of working to raise energy, city witches have to work at grounding it, because we swim in a giant sea of power.

   “The city has its own deities. For instance, here in Atlanta, our underworld is ruled by MARTA—the Metro Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority—our subway system. She’s a snake goddess who takes us into the labyrinth where we can explore the depths of our being and experience our personal transformation.

   “There is nature here. It’s just different than you’re used to. Our wildlife consists of pigeons, rats, alley cats, crows, and moths. They become our familiars, helping us to survive in this wild place. “And yes, there’s violence, but there are demons everywhere. It’s up to us to fight the good fight, be it in the mountains or the city. The entire world needs us and what we do, Kaia. There isn’t any place that isn’t sacred.”

In the forthcoming sequel to GLORY, Kaia and Evan struggle to bridge the cavernous gap between them. But of course, as Evan just pointed out, it really is all a matter of perspective, isn’t it?

Summer Book Signings!

I have two big book signing events planned this summer!

Saturday July 30, from 11-1, I will be at Blue Hills Dog and Cat Shoppe in Longmont, Colorado:

2255 Main St. #116
Longmont, CO 80501
303-651-2955
Located in Horizon Park Shopping center on the corner of 21st Ave & Main St. (Hwy 287) in Longmont.

Saturday August 6, from 12-2 I will be at Barnes and Noble Bookstore in Loveland, Colorado:

5835 Sky Pond Drive
Loveland, CO 80537
(970) 663-9473
Located at The Promenade Shops at Centerra Mall

Hope to see you there!

Oh, and here is a wonderful newspaper article just published in the Loveland newspaper:

Author's Latest Book Sides Into 'Paranormal Chick Lit' Genre

 

The Dog Doesn't Die At The End

When my new comic novella SHOW DOG SINGS THE BLUES came out, it immediately hit Amazon’s Bestseller List of Books About Dogs. It eventually made it to the top of Hot New Releases, but the book that was hard to beat was “JACK: A book about a dog where the dog doesn't die at the end” by Ray Braswell. Why? Well, I imagine because the author lets the readers know right up front that the dog doesn’t die at the end.

As much as I enjoy novels that include dogs, I always hesitate to read them because the dog really always does die at the end and it just tears me up. That said, my favorite novels are THE ART OF MOTORCYCLE RACING IN THE RAIN and SIGHT HOUND, both of which involve the dogs dying at the end. Sigh. Love makes you read strange things.

When I wrote SHOW DOG SINGS THE BLUES about Talisman the Australian Shepherd I definitely intended for it to end on an upbeat note. And it does. No dogs were harmed in the writing of this novel. Although there are touching moments, it will have you on the floor laughing. It is a funny tale about a prissy show dog mistaken for a cowdog who has to work on a ranch for the day. Along the way she rises to the occasion and learns that she’s not just another pretty face. However, in the end she sure is ready for bottled water and organic kibble, a full grooming, new pedicure, a visit with her Reiki Master, and a consultation with her pet psychic. She is a dog who never loses sight of her priorities.

So, I would like to heartily recommend my new novella SHOW DOG SINGS THE BLUES and assure you that the dog doesn’t die in the end.

In parting, here is an excerpt. Talisman has a play date with her sister, a cowdog named Maddie. After they fall into a mud puddle, confusion arises and Maddie is taken into the house to be groomed and pampered, while poor Talisman has to work stock. After the humiliation of being herded by a flock of geese, Talisman takes a nap and goes to her happy place:

   I dreamt that I was a show dog tragically mistaken for a cowdog, and I did such a heroic job that I inspired both Angelina and Molly. I had my very own ticker-tape parade down Main Street as a marching band played "We Are the Champions." People threw dog treats as I passed. It was glorious!

   I woke up to find a tiny kitten nursing on my ear. It was a major letdown from the epic experience I had just been having.

   I opened one eye and saw her clamped onto the tip of my ear, sucking away, purring her heart out, tiny paws enthusiastically kneading with eager hope of coaxing milk. Sky blue eyes the exact shade of mine looked at me adoringly. Her sweet-smelling fur had shades similar to my own hair—she could have been my daughter, if I had been a cat.

   Geez, so what was I supposed to do now? I might be beautiful, but I wasn’t heartless.

   Before I could sort it all out, a really big Siamese cat leapt onto my bed, hissed at me, took a wicked slap at my nose with angry claws, grasped her baby by its scruff, and carried her away. Little Blue Eyes watched me all the way down the hay stack.

   Ouch! My paw swiped the blood off my nose. This really was a dangerous place—the way things were going, I’d be lucky to get out alive.

   Well, I certainly was wide awake now. I got up and stretched, then climbed down off my perch. Thirsty, I tried to figure out where to find a bottle of water. I had brought my own, but it was in the house. Perhaps Maddie had been able to explain things to Cheyenne, so I headed to check the situation out. I climbed up the porch steps and peered in the window.

   Maddie was lying on the couch atop my super plush throw—she looked so clean. Was that a pink bow in her hair? It was the exact shade of pink as my nails and would have looked very nice on me. I raised my paw and tapped the window.

   Maddie looked at me, leapt off the couch, and raced to the window. Her eyes were frantic. Get me outta here!

   Let me in! I replied.

   She stood up on her hind legs and started pawing at the glass as if she were trying to dig through it. So, I stood up on my hind legs and pawed right back at her. I really don’t know what we hoped to accomplish, but desperation can cloud the mind.

   "Stop that, Tali!" Cheyenne yelled. The cowgirl marched over to the window and gave me an irritated look. "Git, Maddie, you two had your fun. Go on now. It’s time for Tali’s lunch." She carried a bottle of my spring water in one hand and a bowl of my special kibble in the other—my organic turkey and sweet potato, apple, and cranberry kibble that Molly bought for me at The Back to Eden Tree Hugging Organic Granola Shoppe.

   My stomach growled. I really wanted that kibble.

   Cheyenne stuck the bottle of water under one arm so that she had a free hand with which to draw the drapes closed.

   The nerve.

SHOW DOGS SINGS THE BLUES is available as an eBook and print book and is for humans of all ages. For more information and to read additional excerpts, please visit www.CanineChickLit.com

Happy Birthday America!

In this context there are two possible meanings to that birthday wish. Of course it is Independence Day in America today, a celebration of the country's birth. Also, Glory's missing sister is named America. There are multiple meanings to a lot of things in my urban fantasy GLORY.

In GLORY, the blood of seventeen-year-old Glory Templeton holds the cure for a deadly pandemic-plague, and she embarks on a quest to save humanity. When evil forces conspire to stop her, three supernatural beings are assigned to be her guardians. Two powerful covens of witches come to her aid as multiple mysteries unfold about the forces of evil—both natural and supernatural—who influence the events of this world.

I was recently asked why there are so many patriotic references in GLORY: the heroine's name, her sister's name, an intrepid demon-fighting Australian Shepherd named Hallelujah, the lyrics to "The Battle Hymn of the Republic," and a fearless Army National Guard helicopter pilot. The easy answer is that I was writing a patriotic novel named RED HOT LIBERTY when I conceived GLORY and was influenced by that creative effort.

However, there is far more to it than that. What is America's Independence Day celebrating? Freedom from tyranny; a fight that was fought with blood.  Hmmm. Sounds like the plot of GLORY to me. Glory and her scrappy band of rebels fight the good fight against evil and are willing to die for the cause.

As Liberty True, the uber-patriotic character in my new comic chick lit novel RED HOT LIBERTY, says to that novel's heroine, Molly, "You have to stand for something in life."

Every day of our lives we are faced with choices pertaining to the opposing forces that influence life on this planet. One morning I was thrilled when I checked my Facebook page and someone had happily posted, "Go Team Caretakers!" In GLORY, The Caretakers represent the forces of good in this world.

You have to stand for something in life.

Glory, glory, Hallelujah!

www.GloryLegend.com

www.RedHotLiberty.com

Casting Call For Wicked Dogs!

I write novels: humorous chick-lit, supernatural thrillers, and young adult urban fantasy. Whenever possible, I include colorful animal characters, and in conjunction with my projects I support animal rescue.

GLORY, Book One of my Legend of Glory urban fantasy series, features an intrepid demon-fighting Australian Shepherd named Hallelujah (Hallie to her friends). Hallie’s job is to protect the teenage heroine, Glory. Hallie doesn't like vampires, is partial to angels, and enjoys talking with witches. She'll tolerate being dressed up in silly costumes in the fight against evil, but after multiple baths to remove blood and dangerous scents, she elevates deep, sorrowful sighs to an art form. Her loathing of vampires puts a serious cramp in Glory’s love life, but she will brave a room full of vampires for a raspberry-filled, super-thick, triple-glazed doughnut.

She is a dog with clear priorities.

Hallie can dance, and she sings her own special version of "The Hallelujah Chorus," but her greatest talent of all is extraordinary courage. She is the Wonder Woman of the canine crowd!

I am now writing the second book in the series, which has a working title of TIMELESS, and I am looking for the perfect canine foil for Hallelujah. I need an evil dog.

So, I am putting out a casting call to all dog owners to send me information about their own demonic dogs. Tell me in what way they are wicked and send me photos to show me how evil they look. (Seriously, I need inspiration here.) If I use the likeness of your dog in TIMELESS, he or she will be immortalized forever in literature. Think about the possibilities!

My casting call is being held on my Facebook page. So friend me and post away!

Of course, you and I will know that your dog isn’t really evil. Between us, we will agree that he or she is merely mischievous. However, because I’m a writer, I can exaggerate. It’s what I get paid for.

Besides, that’s what the voices are telling me to do...

www.GloryLegend.com

http://www.facebook.com/devin.obranagan

The Hawthorne Book of Shadows

With his eyes fixed on Paradise,
   the haunted Christian
blames the shadow. Plagued

by his own demons,
   soul bitten and loveless,
he is bound in the sackcloth of pride,

in cobwebs and ashes.
   While there, thrilled to the wild,
dizzying ride of the flesh,

of phallus and womb, the fresh
   dew of this world, the red,
simple wing of original joy,

like the berrying spring of a child's
   renewal, the Witch slips out
of the black diaphanous robe

of our common sleep. Behind
   that half-curtain, lives with the sharp
knowledge of danger (Do not, whatever

else you may do, be discovered!).
   Out of that horn of magic, desire,
flesh at once richer and paler than ivory

is bathed—Look!—in original light!
   ...Or are those only the elegant
ivory bars of the cage

in which both have been trapped:
   Earth-delighted no less than he
with his cross-obsessed pain?

While She-Without-Form,
   resurrected again and again,
cries out from the nailed thirst of this world

to our own resurrection, that single
   commandment: Love!—O heart's simple name!
O first and final salvation!

www.NewWitchHunt.com

Are Werewolves or Dogs More Desirable?

In my young adult novel GLORY, seventeen-year-old Glory Templeton’s blood holds the cure for a pandemic plague, and a vampire, a witch, and an angel are assigned to be her bodyguards. Her intrepid demon-fighting Australian Shepherd, Hallelujah, rounds out the team. 

TWILIGHT is also about a seventeen-year-old girl, named Bella, and her romantic triangle with a vampire and a werewolf.

So, let’s compare canines here.

Jacob, Twilight’s werewolf, is a hunka hunka burning love, with a body ripped to perfection and a face so handsome women of all ages swoon at his smile. He is as devoted to Bella as, well, a puppy dog. He will fight vampires to the death to protect her.

Hallelujah is brave and beautiful, totally devoted to Glory, and will also fight vampires to the death to protect Glory.

Of course, in both novels neither Glory nor Bella want to be saved from all of the vampires, which presents its own set of unique problems for the respective heroines.

Hallelujah can be a bit, um, bitchy, and gives Glory the silent treatment after she falls asleep in the arms of the enemy.

Jacob can be a bit surly, and he gives Bella the silent treatment when she announces she wants to sleep with the enemy.

Hallelujah saves Glory’s life by defending her from demon-possessed mountain lions and bears. And when Glory is knocked unconscious in a car accident Hallelujah plops down on Glory’s nearly-severed arm and keeps her from bleeding to death.

Jacob protects Bella from various evil vampires and werewolves with bad attitudes. And when she jumps off a cliff into the ocean, Jacob saves her from drowning.

Both Jacob and Hallelujah are good at rationalizing their own inconsistent behavior. For instance, Jacob ends up choosing Bella’s daughter over Bella as a romantic partner because of something to do with werewolf soul mate imprinting. (Really.) And Hallelujah will brave a roomful of vampires to retrieve a triple-glazed, super-thick, raspberry-filled donut. (She is a dog with very clear priorities.)

A plus on Hallelujah’s tally sheet is that she sings "The Hallelujah Chorus," and I don’t recall gorgeous Jacob ever entertaining Bella in such a delightful manner.

However, did I mention that Jacob is unbelievably sexy?  And when he transforms into a werewolf, all his clothes are shredded and he is buck naked.

(Excuse me while I pause to splash cold water on my face.)

Oh, and by the way, Hallelujah saves the world.

So, there you have it readers.  I know whom I find more desirable.  Do you?

For more information about GLORY, visit the website: www.GloryLegend.com

WITCH HUNT And GLORY Hit The Bestseller's List!

In the past two weeks, both of my novels WITCH HUNT and GLORY hit Amazon's Metaphysical Fiction Bestseller's List!  WITCH HUNT made it into the top 20, and at one point they were both on the list at the same time.  I am over the moon!

There were a number of wonderful things that happened all around the same time that created the "tipping point" about which all authors dream.

First, GLORY received a 5-Star review from the prestigious Midwest Book Review that stated, "A fantasy on the shoulders of a strong willed girl, GLORY is not to be missed. And it was nominated for the 2011 Best Popular Paperback for Young Adults List, sponsored by the Young Adult Library Services Association (YALSA) of the American Library Association.

Then WITCH HUNT received a 5-Star review from Midwest Book Review that stated, "A riveting story of magic and morality, WITCH HUNT will prove very hard to put down."  The leading New Age publisher Llewellyn posted a wonderful review of it on their website, and then renowned pagan artist Sabrina "The Ink Witch" gave it a glowing endorsement.

Finally, readers of one book were anxious to read the other and excitement grew, quickly reaching critical mass.

Did I mention that I'm over the moon?

To learn more about both of these bestselling novels, please visit my author's website: http://www.devinwrites.com

GLORY Receives Prestigious Nomination

My urban fantasy, GLORY, has been nominated for the 2011 Popular Paperback for Young Adults List, sponsored by the Young Adult Library Services Association (YALSA) of the American Library Association, in the "Zombies, Werewolves & Things With Wings" category!

YALSA publishes selected booklists each year which recommend great books for teens. Parents and caregivers can use these lists to find good books for their teens, and librarians and educators may find them useful for collection development. While these books have been selected for teens from 12 to 18 years of age, the titles on YALSA's selected lists span a broad range of reading and maturity levels.

In GLORY, seventeen-year-old Glory Templeton's blood holds the cure for a deadly pandemic-plague and she embarks on a quest to save humanity. When evil forces conspire to stop her, three supernatural beings are assigned to be her guardians. Forbidden love, ancient secret societies, mysterious astronomical monuments, vampires, witches, angels and demons all contribute to the high adventure that tests the character of this remarkable young woman.

A dystopian YA fantasy, GLORY has been labeled "Twilight meets The DaVinci Code." It is the first in a planned series about the adventures of Glory Templeton and her unique band of teenage rebels who fight the good fight against evil. It is now available in both print and eBook editions.

For more information please visit http://www.glorylegend.com/

"A fantasy on the shoulders of a strong willed girl, Glory is not to be missed."

- Midwest Book Review

 

Midnight's Halloween

   My name is Midnight. Of course it is...I'm a black cat. Could my captors have any less imagination? Besides being dull and unimaginative people, they're cruel; I'm sure they were trained by the CIA - the Cat Intimidation Association.
   It is day 946 of my captivity.
   These humans castrated me. Then they imprisoned me in their home. They feed me the same thing every day; it is some form of hard kibble that tastes like flavored cardboard. They torture me by eating fresh fish and meat right in front me, but then get mad when I raid the goldfish bowl. What do they expect, for crissakes?
   My only pleasure comes from a catnip mouse that I'm certain they gave me by accident. At night, when they're asleep, I cavort with it and enjoy the buzz. This is what I'm doing when I hear a noise coming from the chimney. The sound isn't loud, but given the boring nature of my pitiful existence, it immediately captures my attention.
   Using my superpower of stealth, I pad to the far side of the room to investigate.
   That's when I see her - a beautiful platinum blond with bright blue eyes. When she sees me, she strikes a pose like those jazz dancers on TV. She flashes her jazz paws, and she's a singular Siamese sensation!
   Is it possible I'm feeling a tingle in my former tomcat parts?
   Brazenly, she struts up to me and rubs her scent all over my body. I'm too stunned to object.
   "I'm Jezebel, what's your name?"
   I've never had a cat chat, but our mental conversation seems as natural as could be. "Midnight."
   She bats her eyelashes. "I hope you don't mind me dropping in."
   I notice a smudge of black on her cheek. "Did you come down the chimney?"
   "A little trick my person taught me."
   I can't help myself; in a bold move I lick her cheek clean, my tongue rough and masculine. Purring, she presses herself into me, and I notice the smell of fresh, wonderful blood on her breath.
   Obviously, her person lets her eat real food.
   "Tell me about your person." I wonder if he might want another cat.
   "His name is Damien. He's a vampire and I'm his familiar."
   I've watched enough TV to understand, and my fur fluffs up with concern. "What do you want here?"
   "I've come for Anna."
   Little Anna? I hiss and leap backwards. Anna is the five-year-old human my captors also hold prisoner. I can't let this vixen hurt my innocent little cellmate.
   Jezebel gives me a crazy beautiful smile. "If you help me, I'll teach you how to escape."
   My bleak existence has never had much meaning, but now I must decide whether I'm selfish or noble. I think of sweet Anna, and the decision is easy.
   I arch my back and slash out with wicked claws. "Get out of here as fast as your pretty little paws can carry you, sister."
   Her gorgeous blue eyes widen, their pupils dilate, and I think we're about to begin rolling on the floor - and not in a good way - but she surprises me by backing off. With an exaggerated wiggle in her walk, she turns away and saunters to the fireplace. Before leaping up the chimney, she looks back over her shoulder and gives me a sassy wink.
   I grin at my victory. I am a tomcat after all; my captors might have stolen my balls, but they haven't captured my spirit.
   Satisfied, I celebrate my triumph by reclaiming my mouse and inhaling some catnip fumes. Eventually, I drift into a giddy slumber and dream about what might have been with Jezebel.

* * *

   When my captors awaken me, I stretch, clean my face, and wonder if my encounter with Jezebel was just a drug-induced dream. I leap from the couch and meander over to the fireplace. On the hearth, written in cleverly arranged bloody mouse tails, are the words, I'LL BE BACK.

Copyright © 2010 by Devin O'Branagan

http://www.devinwrites.com/