Lying Through Her Fangs - Scene 4

Lying ThRough Her Fangs

After a few long moments of laughter and condescending remarks from the woman who was supposed to be my best friend, she agreed to help me with my little problem. Our work was cut out for us, especially as she wasn’t in town.  

Just before Christanna had hung up, she’d said, “Xylia, I’ll check out the escorts as I know which ones to avoid while you see if there are any male options on your side of the line.”

“How do you know which ones are sleazy? Wait, don’t answer that,” I replied as I shook an image from my head of my best friend looking over a naked male lineup.

 I could wait to see what Christianna came up with on her front, or I could try to find a man to compel on my own. Never one to sit by the sidelines while waiting to be rescued, I got ready for bed and made notes of places I could find a gentleman who would be acceptable before my femme fatale best friend lined up a male revue from her frequent flyers miles.

“She better not hook me up with one of her seconds, just to be generous,” I said to the empty bathroom as I brushed my teeth.

The mere thought of being with a man who would have seen her in various stages of undress was enough to have me blushing. And even well-fed vamps can’t blush. Was it any more demeaning to have her cast offs than it was to seek out a man off the streets? Or in this case, a website where men flaunted pictures of their bare chests to get women to order them with a side of hot sauce?

“How did I get myself into this? Oh wait, because I almost feel sorrier for my love life than my friends do.” I fluffed my pillows with more energy than was necessary.

Somehow I knew that there would be little sleep while the sun owned the sky for the next several hours. Propping myself up with all the pillows I loved on my bed, I slipped the notepad onto my lap so I could jot down my options. I wanted to have a plan in place by sunset, when I’d be able to escape my well-decorated prison again.

“Dear Abby, where does a single vampire female meet men of outstanding quality in Atlanta when she can only seek them out in the dead of night? Signed, Desperate And Dead Debbie.” I mimicked a slow southern drawl that would have made Scarlett proud.

1.      Liquor stores

2.      Movie theaters

3.      Grocery stores

4.      Book stores

5.      Park

“Okay, now the real world will intrude as I narrow down these choices I have,” I said as I ticked off the ones more valid than the others.

1. Liquor stores - Men there would be looking to get drunk and get laid. Drunk people are more difficult to compel, so that option seemed like more effort than I was willing to put in.

2. Movie theaters - The darkness would be a blessing for compelling the man but most men are there on dates. If a single man was in attendance then my speaking to him would probably have an usher being called to escort us out for being an annoyance.

3. Grocery stores - If I found a yummy specimen in the bread aisle, checking out buns, how would compulsion work with people possibly smacking us with shopping carts or unruly kids screaming for cookies?

4. Book stores – With my current strain of luck, I’d find a guy in the romance aisle and he’d be gay. Guilt would have me running a tab with a local therapist if I made the faux pas of accidentally forcing my way on a gay guy.

5. Park - Worst of all choices would be if I made eye contact with a mysterious man who turned out to be a rapist or psychopath. Yep, he’d be the one where you only saw one of his hands in full view, and his lower half behind a bush. My brain imagined the bush shaking like out of a horror flick. I shuddered.

For the love of all Type O, there had to be a venue where conversation and compulsion were options away from prying eyes. Sure, I could work some mad mojo on a man who fell into my gaze like a swimmer to a welcoming pool, but where?

Then the answer hit me like a glove covered slap to the face. There was only one place that I could think of where a single person could peruse more than just window dressings and cheery kiosks. A place I could go to on an overcast afternoon or during late afternoon hours and have plenty of convenient back hallways where two people could disappear without security being instantly called.

No matter how juvenile and how far below normal my standards were, I would be getting up in approximately seven hours to go to the mall in Buckhead to look for the stranger that would be the new man of my life.

“Let the embarrassment of my life begin,” I proclaimed to the world as the sun came up and I forced my eyes to close.  

***

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn

Lying Through Her Fangs - Part Two of my Paranormal Blog Book

Lying Through Her Fangs

Part Two

Where the hell was I going to get a man that could tolerate an evening of paranormal flamboyance, let alone the Halloween extravaganza that was thrown every year? I couldn’t get the best-suited man even if an ad was placed in the local newspaper. With my current path in the love department, I’d be lucky to get laid in the next three years and that was without compelling a man to see past the fangs. Well, that wasn’t completely true. I’d had offers, but from douchebags who thought they were God’s gift to fangs. That was the main reason for keeping to solitude and quick meals on the fly. None of them would thrill me enough to get a layer of sweat on my vampire tough skin. I wasn’t about to say I was on the ugly side of the coffin but I certainly wasn’t a sexual goddess who oozed pheromones with every twitch of my hips. As I was of Algerian descent, I had long, thick hair and an hourglass figure, great attributes to have if you were going to be stuck as an immortal. My height was a bit above average and olive undertones kept me from looking like a pale creature of the moon. Still, finding a man was a possibility but not one that would withstand the oddity that I called life.

Berating myself the whole way home, I decided to do some research on the internet for the best places to meet great guys but the plan would need to include a clandestine way of compelling this man to go out with me. Seriously, who wanted that type of relationship? Well, the plan had merits for this particular case and would leave no strings of attachment behind except him getting a nagging feeling that he'd met me before. The reality of this not being an easy feat brought me full circle to the previous advertisement idea, my front door was in front of me and I hadn’t paid attention to anything as I’d sulked the whole way back to my lonely house in historical downtown Decatur. After tossing my leather clutch on the side board, the Mary Janes were slipped off by the time I had the screen blazing on my fifteen inch laptop. Scoping sites, I accidentally looked up an escort service on purpose. Telling myself it was only research didn’t take away the icky feeling at paying someone to get me through a couple of lonely nights of embarrassment in front of colleagues and my few friends.

“Why did I lie to them in the first place? I’m a freaking idiot. All I had to do was fake a happy face and convince them that my going alone was more professional when attending work related events.”

Smacking my fingers onto the keyboard in annoyance, I yelped when moody elevator music came on for the site that I had engaged. The header was clean and to the point, with tabs of the services, information about the company, and personal biographies on the employees. Thank the heavens above the site didn’t give me more viruses than I could pick up from anyone at the local dance club. Luckily, the only virus I could catch was some hybrid strain of lycanthropy as my DNA was already genetically altered from the Vlad Syndrome I had been born with.

Without a risk of STDs, and the ability to compel anyone I want [to do XXX], sex should be more of an option.

“Why am I such a shrinking violet?” I asked the dust mites and leather upholstery. Maybe if I’d had a ghost roommate I would get some type of feedback, with the added bonus that the sad details of my solitary life wouldn’t ever be voiced out loud to anyone. That would be a positive as I hated the feeling that my need for a companion made me feel like a permanent wallflower.

There was only one thing left for me to do.

Taking a deep breath, as if I needed air in my lungs, I dialed her cell and slumped in my favorite chair. Let the mental beatings begin.

“‘Ello, dearie.” The chipper, baritone voice of my only true friend in the world came through the speaker.

“Christianna, did I call at a bad time?” I asked, silently hoping she was going to sleep with the six hour time difference between us.

“Nope. I’m between dates right now so I have the time to talk to my bestest friend,” she joked.

“Having fun in Madrid? I know it’s business trip but pleasure is never out of reach for you.”

“You know me,” she answered, chuckling to herself. Christianna was my opposite in everything but our similar strain of Vlad Syndrome. She was a petite blonde with shoulder length hair, blue eyes, a feisty spirit, and took bed partners like a sexual predator.

“I’d hate to interrupt a good seduction scene.” I laughed as I imagined her holding a man on the end of a chain as she answered the phone.

“You didn’t, but I know you didn’t call to live vicariously through my sex life, so what’s up chickadee?”

With a deep breath, I gathered what little courage I had left in the pit of my stomach. “You know we have the ball and the Halloween party plus the fact that I’m always without a date so I told the gang at the bar that I was currently seeing someone that would be my date at both events.”

Taking an unnecessary breath, I gave her a moment to take in all I had spewed at her.

“Wait. Miss Stay True actually lied through her pretty little fangs about dating a non-existent man who would have to appear like a trick from a magic show? Are you kidding me?” The laughter on the other end had me banging my head against my high backed chair.

"Yeah, yeah, it's hysterical. So, are you gonna help me or not?"

***

Lying Through Her Fangs - Part Two of my Paranormal Blog Book

Lying Through Her Fangs

Part Two

Where the hell was I going to get a man that could tolerate an evening of paranormal flamboyance, let alone the Halloween extravaganza that was thrown every year? I couldn’t get the best-suited man even if an ad was placed in the local newspaper. With my current path in the love department, I’d be lucky to get laid in the next three years and that was without compelling a man to see past the fangs. Well, that wasn’t completely true. I’d had offers, but from douchebags who thought they were God’s gift to fangs. That was the main reason for keeping to solitude and quick meals on the fly. None of them would thrill me enough to get a layer of sweat on my vampire tough skin. I wasn’t about to say I was on the ugly side of the coffin but I certainly wasn’t a sexual goddess who oozed pheromones with every twitch of my hips. As I was of Algerian descent, I had long, thick hair and an hourglass figure, great attributes to have if you were going to be stuck as an immortal. My height was a bit above average and olive undertones kept me from looking like a pale creature of the moon. Still, finding a man was a possibility but not one that would withstand the oddity that I called life.

Berating myself the whole way home, I decided to do some research on the internet for the best places to meet great guys but the plan would need to include a clandestine way of compelling this man to go out with me. Seriously, who wanted that type of relationship? Well, the plan had merits for this particular case and would leave no strings of attachment behind except him getting a nagging feeling that he'd met me before. The reality of this not being an easy feat brought me full circle to the previous advertisement idea, my front door was in front of me and I hadn’t paid attention to anything as I’d sulked the whole way back to my lonely house in historical downtown Decatur. After tossing my leather clutch on the side board, the Mary Janes were slipped off by the time I had the screen blazing on my fifteen inch laptop. Scoping sites, I accidentally looked up an escort service on purpose. Telling myself it was only research didn’t take away the icky feeling at paying someone to get me through a couple of lonely nights of embarrassment in front of colleagues and my few friends.

“Why did I lie to them in the first place? I’m a freaking idiot. All I had to do was fake a happy face and convince them that my going alone was more professional when attending work related events.”

Smacking my fingers onto the keyboard in annoyance, I yelped when moody elevator music came on for the site that I had engaged. The header was clean and to the point, with tabs of the services, information about the company, and personal biographies on the employees. Thank the heavens above the site didn’t give me more viruses than I could pick up from anyone at the local dance club. Luckily, the only virus I could catch was some hybrid strain of lycanthropy as my DNA was already genetically altered from the Vlad Syndrome I had been born with.

Without a risk of STDs, and the ability to compel anyone I want [to do XXX], sex should be more of an option.

“Why am I such a shrinking violet?” I asked the dust mites and leather upholstery. Maybe if I’d had a ghost roommate I would get some type of feedback, with the added bonus that the sad details of my solitary life wouldn’t ever be voiced out loud to anyone. That would be a positive as I hated the feeling that my need for a companion made me feel like a permanent wallflower.

There was only one thing left for me to do.

Taking a deep breath, as if I needed air in my lungs, I dialed her cell and slumped in my favorite chair. Let the mental beatings begin.

“‘Ello, dearie.” The chipper, baritone voice of my only true friend in the world came through the speaker.

“Christianna, did I call at a bad time?” I asked, silently hoping she was going to sleep with the six hour time difference between us.

“Nope. I’m between dates right now so I have the time to talk to my bestest friend,” she joked.

“Having fun in Madrid? I know it’s business trip but pleasure is never out of reach for you.”

“You know me,” she answered, chuckling to herself. Christianna was my opposite in everything but our similar strain of Vlad Syndrome. She was a petite blonde with shoulder length hair, blue eyes, a feisty spirit, and took bed partners like a sexual predator.

“I’d hate to interrupt a good seduction scene.” I laughed as I imagined her holding a man on the end of a chain as she answered the phone.

“You didn’t, but I know you didn’t call to live vicariously through my sex life, so what’s up chickadee?”

With a deep breath, I gathered what little courage I had left in the pit of my stomach. “You know we have the ball and the Halloween party plus the fact that I’m always without a date so I told the gang at the bar that I was currently seeing someone that would be my date at both events.”

Taking an unnecessary breath, I gave her a moment to take in all I had spewed at her.

“Wait. Miss Stay True actually lied through her pretty little fangs about dating a non-existent man who would have to appear like a trick from a magic show? Are you kidding me?” The laughter on the other end had me banging my head against my high backed chair.

"Yeah, yeah, it's hysterical. So, are you gonna help me or not?"

***

Book Blog - Lying Through Her Fangs (Unedited and off the cuff)

Lying Through Her Fangs

Sighing, I ran the tip of my pink tongue over the salty rim of the glass and took another sip before scanning the occupants of the specialty bar. As a local and frequent visitor, I came here when I was bored or looking for entertainment outside of my stately southern home in Atlanta. Like cocktail nuts, it was a mix of human and nonhuman patrons that just needed to get away, even if it was a place to find your next fix. On the outside, this establishment was your average dive bar but rumors and frequenters knew the place for what it really was, a predominantly paranormal bar.

When a vampire wanted to find a safe place to get a neck to munch on or a shifter wanted to be served a raw steak with crispy tater tots, this was where they came to lounge. As I was a one hundred and five year old vampire, this was where I came to be around people that I didn’t have to hide from. Here is where I could get the bloodiest mary in town and it came with a chaser of real blood. I was on my first of the evening and my mood would call for at least one more before I headed to the echoing halls of my home.

“Xylia, you’re looking lovely and somber tonight,” Romero said as he leaned over the shiny wood bar in my direction.

“Same old, same old, I’m afraid,” I replied as I tossed down the chaser he slid toward me.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m right here?” He replied with our now standing joke about him taking care of my every need.

“Why don’t you have a ghoul of your own, Romero? You can’t be pining away for me every night as you get beings served and sauced around here.”

“You injure my unbleeding heart, Xylia!” He feigned a mortal shot to the chest.

Smiling, I added, “We would never work and you know it.”

“But you won’t know until you try,” He added with a pretty good leer.

“Enough is enough, old man. Can’t you let her be?” Wanda interjected as she brought fresh glasses from the back.

“It’s okay, Wanda. He knows I won’t be inviting him into my coffin anytime soon so he can flirt all he wants.”

“You have a coffin? Really? What kind of wood? Is the lining real silk or is that too difficult to clean after a midnight snack?”

"Romero!" Wanda snapped before smacking him in the back of his thick skull like a ripe melon.

"Whoa, woman. Don't mess up the hair!" He yelped at Wanda as she rolled her eyes in obvious annoyance.

"Wanda, it's fine and we don't need a scene over here if you kill him for simply being himself."

"Why do you put up with him when there are so much yummier objects around to play with?"

I muttered, "Here we go."

"You never come in here with a man and you sure as hell never leave with one. When are you going to settle down with some sexy thing who can sweep you off of those gorgeous legs of yours?"

"I'm Right Here!" Yelled Romero as he patted his goth t-shirt clad chest.

"Romero!" was said in unison but Wanda was the one who sounded outraged.

"Honey, why don't you let me fix you up with someone? It can be here in the bar so we can watch over you. It'd be perfectly safe and Romero here could actually be of some use if a man got out of line. Right?"

"Lord, no." Avoiding eye contact was best as the drink itself wasn't trying to hook me up with a shot glass out back. "No offense but I'm okay and can find a man of my own."

Wanda shook her head and pointed a finger at me, "You're one cat and one coffin waxing away from being a spinster and we both know it. Now what is your problem with me trying to get you a hot date while we make sure you're protected?"

Romero stepped up but not close enough for a swing as he gently reminded us of a time last year that was best forgotten, "Wanda, remember Gary?"

Groaning over my drink, I heard Wanda's facial tick from two feet away and Romero hunched like a wounded child.

"No way! We're not going there and neither is this topic."

I took a healthy gulp of my drink and wished I could get blitzed because the conversation had just taken a nose dive into the decaying remains of an old injury.

"Xylia Natouri, you are too amazing to be dying of old age with nothing but a coffin and Vogue magazines," whined my oldest friend.

"Isn't your office banquet in about a week? I can rent a tux and take you so you don't feel so bad about showing up stag again this year."

"That is an idea, Xy," interjected Wanda with a thoughtful expression on her face.

I was not the charity case of the year and I couldn't help that men were either intimidated by my looks or just thought that I was bed bunny of the year. And seeing Romero the Ghoul in a green tinged tuxedo would just set me over the cavernous edge of sanity, so I downed the rest of my drink and did something awful.

"Guys, don't go planning up matching corsages because I do have a man on the line and he may be my date for the dinner plus the Halloween ball."

Romero dropped his smartphone mid-search and Wanda's mouth could have been home to a dozen fruit fly colonies. But as I fully scanned their shocked responses, I realized that I had just lied to my best friends. There was no man and I was in the deepest shit ever.

****************************************************

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn

I'm back and taking a bite out of self publishing :-[ (fangs, lol)

For those of you that are new to this page - WELCOME and I hope you enjoy "the show".

To my peeps coming back, I missed you all and am glad to see you have returned.

As I lost my publisher (Secret Cravings) on 9/1/2015 and have all my rights back, I am rewriting two of the three that were published and will be self publishing them on Amazon. Not only do I have those two pretty babies (Andromeda, my best seller at SCP and To Have and Too Bold) but I have written one contemporary romance, one paranormal gothic romance, and am on book two in my first paranormal series (HFN). I'm over the moon with my muse and I hope we are (BFF) Best Friends Forever. Along the depression paved road since losing my publisher, I dared myself to wiggle out of my comfort zone and write things I never thought I could do when I started writing my first book at 17 (Just to be Left Alone, romantic suspense). 

Being who I am, I was worried that I wouldn't be able to find an editor or agent that liked my twisted voice but I realized that I didn't have to wait for their acceptance to live my dream. Yes, I sent out the items listed above but most were rejected as I don't write for a set book line or agent in mind. My stories are for me and anyone who is a misfit like me in their hungers for southern sass with a bite. (see what I did there?)

So, I need you guys to stay tuned as I start something else that scared the boy shorts right off of my curvy butt.......I'm going to write a novella online just for my readers and supporters. IF, yes IF, this can be pulled off (like a thong on prom night) then you guys can go online each week and read a FREE new scene in a story that I might even publish in whole as a freebie to my followers. Being a pantser means this is not even plotted out to the end (yet) and will not be stringently edited (as I can't afford that) but will be a tale straight from my naughty little inner musings.

Since I'm putting out paranormal on my first few flights of fancy into self publishing, this novella will be samples of how I write in the raw. Any editor or agent who happens to come across it can see if I'm a fit for my Non Paranormal babies to be submitted to them but make no mistake, I intend on getting all of them out of my mental box and onto the pages of your screen for you to enjoy. No, I'm not making any money as I do this and won't for some time but passion is not always driven by a wallet on a backhoe. 

Stick with me peeps, and let's see where this new adventure takes us.

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn

Writing Tools - Queries

I checked out How to Write a Query Letter, Everything You Need To Know Explained Simply by Donna Murphy and found a few things to share with you guys.

The usual structure for a query letter is:

Paragraph 1: The Hook - Open up with a hook (statement) that grabs the attention of the reader so they are instantly interested in your project but it has to be relevant to your story (even a quote from the manuscript can work).

Paragraph 2: Supporting Details - This is where you start giving basic ideas that build the hook into the main premise of your story line or plot arc. (When-What-Where-When-Why)

Paragraph 3: Qualifications - Here you focus on your qualifications to write the piece you are submitting. Don't make it lengthy but make sure to explain why you are the person to share this story.

Paragraph 4: Closing - Make sure to thank the person using their time to check into your manuscript. Also make sure all ends are tied up and they have several ways to reach you for any further information.

TIPS - There are personal pieces of yourself that you can add to these but make sure it stays professional. You can add a quote from your book (as stated above) or add something that makes your story relevant to something going on in pop culture. If your book relies heavily on certain emotions then add touches of that into you query, like humor if it's a romantic comedy or a few powerful phrases if it's an impactful or dramatic story, etc.

I hope this helps anyone who is struggling with the basics and be sure to share anything that you have found to be helpful in your own query letters.

Have a great day and thanks for stopping by.

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn
Wench Writer

Soap Box - Queries/Submissions and Marketability

I know this may come across as a rant but I really want this situation to be explained to me. I don't have a wide enough knowledge of the publishing industry to read between the lines nor do I have an agent on a friendly enough basis to go to on this subject. So, if you have some knowledge on this, or have a person I can ask, please hit me up. (BTW - I will not be giving any names as it isn't about the person/company but the actual meaning of what I need to do next.)

"It's not marketable." OR/AND "We wouldn't know how to properly market that?"

I have two complete manuscripts and I'm sending them to agents and publishers for a possible contract. One of them is a Gothic Paranormal and the other is a Paranormal/Urban Fiction that has actually been plotted out to be a series.

The Para/UF
          The characters are several different breeds between witches, shifters, sirens, vampires, and such so if that's the problem then I have no idea on how to narrow it down without completely trashing the series plot line. It's based in a southern town so I know that isn't the problem. I do have a few different things for the outer conflict but they're all relevant to pop culture. Maybe as some are buzz words that can be a negative or a positive, it's too touchy for them to deal with. I'm not being told anything specific other than the above and a couple of people stating that if it was YA they might consider it more.
          My critique partners from then and my more recent betas have all "fallen" for it and want it published but the stories aren't being grabbed up by the professional publishing community. Why? It even won a WETA award, so I'm totally confused. Yes, I'm debating on making it self published as I have no intention of killing the story.
          There HAS to be a market out there since Best Selling Authors like Kim Harrison, Laurell K Hamilton, Carrie Vaughn, Keri Arthur, and Charlaine Harris all wrote novels containing more than one breed of preternatural plus included pop culture avenues in their story lines. Yes, some of these ladies entered in the older market, when things were hot, but many of us read these items so why not publish more of them?

The Gothic
          It is set in a small southern town, so that should be okay. What I have with it is a psychic mixing with two preternatural beings (one is the villain) plus the mansion/eery happenings/dark secrets that are typical in a gothic novel. As it's the newer of the two manuscripts, it hasn't gotten as many responses since I just started putting it out at the end of June. I've gotten good reviews on it from my beta readers and critique ladies (that write the same subject), so I need to see if it's my story line or the market isn't ready for another novel in this genre.

Well, there you have it, my latest quandary. Can you offer me any news or info on these?

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn
Wench Writer