Happy Book Birthday to Courtney Cole!

Thursday, April 26, 2012

One year ago, my book, Every Last Kiss (Book One in the Bloodstone Saga) was released into the wild. 

I was so terrified that day, so afraid that everyone out there in the Reader-verse was going to hate it, that people would laugh and point at me on the street- saying “What’s the deal with that girl?  She really thinks she’s a writer?”  I might be exaggerating a little.  But I was a little terrified.

But you know what?  It turns out, people kind of liked it.  And so the rest of the Bloodstone Saga was born (Fated, With My Last Breath and My Tattered Bonds).  It’s been an exciting and crazy year, but I’m so, so happy that it has happened.  And I’m so, so thankful to all of the wonderful readers who have read my work.  I’m so grateful for every single one of you.

Which bring me to the next part.  This week, I am celebrating the book birthday of Every Last Kiss.  Today and tomorrow,, Every Last Kiss will be free on Amazon Kindle. You can find it here

Also, as a special thank you to the wonderful readers who have followed every step of Cadmus and Harmonia’s adventures, I have written a bonus novella, House of Thebes.  For the first time, you can read how Harmonia and Cadmus met…the first time.   As a thank you to YOU, my awesome and wonderful fans, it will be available for FREE on Amazon Kindle today.   You can find it here

I really hope you enjoy it. 

And lastly, it would not be a birthday bash without prizes, right?   So, over the course of today and tomorrow, you will be entered to win prizes every time you tweet this on Twitter:  To celebrate the book birthday of Every Last Kiss by @courtwritesYA, it will be free on Amazon Kindle today http://ow.ly/asd4b

I’ll be giving away signed copies of Every Last Kiss and House of Thebes, signed bookmarks, Greek Drachmas and a Bloodstone Saga t-shirts. 

I hope everyone has a fantastic weekend and THANK YOU again, so, so much, for reading my work.  I’m eternally grateful. 

Immortal Grave: Prologue

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

We did it! We got to 60 reviews on Amazon and as a thank you for all of your honesty, here is the prologue for Immortal Grave. Truly, I have the best readers ever! 

Warning: This version is unedited, so it may change slightly by publication. Also, it's a bit steamy. ;)

Immortal Grave
Nichole Chase


          Tristan looked around the large living room in disgust. Teenagers lounged about on the furniture, while others danced in the corners or made out in the shadows. Running a hand across the back of his neck, Tristan tried to not think about the thirst that consumed much of his thoughts. His gaze stopped on the back of Shannon’s dark hair. She was sitting on Michael’s lap, her hand wrapped around the idiots thick neck. Red creeped into Tristan’s vision and he had to quickly look away. If she wanted to act out the charade tonight, that was fine by Tristan. Taking a swallow of the beer he was holding, he choked it down and wondered what else they might have to drink at the party.
            “Hey, Trist.” A girl from his chemistry class sidled up next to him and ran her hand up his arm.  “You don’t look like you’re having much fun.”
            “Hey, Emma. You’re looking good tonight.” He smiled down at the voluptuous girl and tried to not focus on the lush skin of her neck. He turned his attention to other interesting body parts and slid an arm around her shoulders. She giggled and pressed against his chest. Shaking her curly hair, she leaned back in a calculated move that gave him a good look at her cleavage.
            “Maybe we could go hang out somewhere else. You know, if the party is boring you.” Licking her lips, she smiled at him and placed a hand on his chest.
            “Well, we could always go work on some chemistry homework. I always thought we might make good lab partners.” If he couldn’t quench his thirst, he could get lost in other things. Emma would be a good distraction.
            “I was thinking along the same lines.” Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, Emma turned and sauntered towards the stairs leading to the second floor. They passed Paden who rolled his eyes at Emma and shook his head at Tristan. Winking, Tristan tried to not be bothered by his best friend’s disgust. There had been a time not that long ago, that Tristan would have never disappeared with a girl like Emma. Paden would never understand what it meant to be the scholarship kid. It didn’t matter that Tristan was the star soccer player. The only thing he was good for was taking the school to state or to serve as a distraction for the rich girls before they settled down with someone their family would approve of.
            Unintentionally, Tristan’s gaze moved back to Shannon. She was still sitting on Michael’s lap, but now her scrutiny was focused on Tristan and Emma. She narrowed her dark eyes. Tristan could almost smell her anger and jealousy from the other side of the room. He stumbled on the bottom step making Emma giggle. Yanking his gaze from Shannon’s he set his cup down on the banister and swooped Emma up in his arms. She threw her arms around his neck and laughed as he took the stairs two at a time.
            The bedrooms were already taken, so Tristan pushed into the bathroom and kicked the door shut behind him. Emma immediately started untucking his shirt and running her hands across his stomach. When she pressed her mouth to his, he tried to focus on the kiss instead of the thud of her heartbeat. It seemed unbelievably loud in the small bathroom. Pushing away from the wall, he shoved Emma against the counter and smiled when her eyes grew large. His gaze focused on the thumping of the artery in her neck. Moving back to her, he ran his hands up into her hair before yanking her head to the side.
            “God, you smell delicious.” Using his tongue he traced a path down to her shirt collar.
            Her hands reached between them and began to unbutton his pants. Even though he could taste the spike of fear in the air, she wasn’t going to miss her chance to score with the schools soccer captain. While he was excited by her desire, it was more for her blood. His turning couldn’t be far now, he could smell the girl’s blood through her skin.
            With his hands still fisted in her hair, he scraped his teeth along her neck. She groaned and pushed her body closer to his. Testing, he bit her as gently as he could and tensed when she gasped in pain.
            The door to the bathroom slammed open and Shannon stood glaring at them both. The light from the hallway framed her in a glowing halo, and Tristan could taste her fury. He lifted his head slowly away from Emma, his tongue darting out once more to trace her neck as he pulled away. Shannon’s nostrils flared, and her hands fisted on her hips.
“Geez, Shannon. This bathroom is occupied.” Emma yanked her hands out of his pants and tried to readjust her shirt.
“Get out.” Without waiting for them to move, Shannon walked into the bathroom and yanked Emma off of the counter.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Emma glared at Shannon. “Couldn’t you just use one of the other bathrooms?”
“I don’t need to use the bathroom. I just need you to get the hell out of my house.” Barely over five feet, and yet, Shannon dominated the tiny space. Emma backed out of the bathroom and flipped her hair over her shoulder.
Tristan could see his bite mark even in the dark of the bathroom. He tensed and wondered if Shannon had seen it too.
“God, you act like you haven’t fooled around with Michael while at my house. We were just having a little fun.” Emma’s eyes went past the tiny girl blocking the doorway and she smiled at Tristan. “What do you say, Trist? Wanna talk about our homework somewhere else? Seems we’re not welcome anymore.”
“I didn’t say anything about Tristan, idiot. I just said for you to leave.” Shannon crossed her arms and tilted her head. “Or are you so stupid you couldn’t understand the simple words I used?”
“What?” Emma looked at Shannon and then at Tristan. “Are you going to let her tell you what to do?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Tristan leaned back against the bathroom counter and folded his arms across his chest. “It’s her house.”
Emma set her jaw and glared at Shannon and then Tristan. “Whatever.” Turning on one heal, she flounced away, her hair swinging angrily.
“Emma?” Closing the door, Shannon turned to glare at Tristan. “And you bit her! Jesus, Tristan. What has gotten into you?” Stepping up to him, she poked his chest with one small finger.  “Get a grip, will you?”
“I’m not far, Shannon.” Scrubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands, Tristan leaned his head back against the wall. “It’s got to happen soon. I could smell her blood. I wanted to bite her, wanted to do much worse.”
“You think they are going to turn you now?” Shannon’s voice grew quiet and something in her eyes looked sad. “Are you sure this is what you want, Trist?”
“I want this.” Standing up straight he placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to look in her eyes. “I want you. And this is the only way I can have you. The only way your father will ever let you be with me. I’m tired of watching you pretend with that giant idiot. You’re too good for Michael and it makes me sick to watch him touch you.”
“Don’t you want it too? I thought that’s why you introduced me to your dad. Told him who I was.” His eye brows drew together.
“I do. I want you, Tristan. You know I do. But, will you still be you when you turn? I’m worried that we’re in over our heads.”
“You think your dad would let something bad happen to you?” Tristan snorted. “Never mind. Of course he would. He would sell you to someone if it would get him a good deal. But he’s right about one thing. I’ll never be more than a soccer player or a mid-level employee stuck in a dead end job. You deserve more than that, and this is the way that I can give it to you.”
She stepped forward and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I don’t deserve you, Tristan.”
“No, I don’t deserve you. But that’s all going to change soon.”
“I still think we don’t know enough. I don’t think my father is telling us everything.”
Leaning down, Tristan kissed the top of her head. “It’s going to be okay. We already know the worst of it. Blood drinking creatures of the night, right? I can handle that.”
“He hasn’t had any of their blood. Not one drop. But he encourages us to drink it all the time. You especially. He never lets me drink as much as you and Michael.”
“Don’t talk about Michael to me.” Stiffening, Tristan pulled back from Shannon a little. Rage coiled in his belly and he knew that his eyes were taking on the black smoke that marked him as a darkling.
“Don’t be stupid, Tristan. It was your idea for me to stay with him. To keep people off our trail.” Shannon turned away from Tristan and pretended to check her makeup in the mirror. Raising her eyes to meet his reflection, her mouth twisted sardonically. “I think it’s time you leave. Otherwise people are going to start talking.”
Brushing past Shannon, Tristan yanked the door knob and heard something crack as the door swung open. Without turning around he said, “You’ve always been a bitch, Shannon.”
“That’s why you love me.” Shannon’s voice was soft, meant for Tristan’s sensitive ears. 

***I know that some of you may be wondering about why the prologue is from Tristan's perspective. Well, I feel like it's important for you to have a look into his thought process and to understand his decisions. I'm not saying that he made GOOD decisions, just that I want you all to be able to understand what was behind his thought process a little more. ***

Writer Quirks

Saturday, April 21, 2012

So, I am going to confess some of my weird writer quirks.

Don't look so shocked. I'm betting you guys have some weird quirks too. (I'm looking at you non-crust eaters, favorite sock lovers, and color coders.) So, yes, I have a few weird quirks that can be attributed to my writing 'habit'.

You might wonder what made me think about this. Well, let me start at the beginning. My husband wanted to watch an action packed movie tonight and I said no. I'd rather watch something a little more lighthearted; something without a serious plot. He threw me a grumpy look and said, "Why can't we ever watch an interesting movie when you're working on a book? You're so weird!" He's right of course, I am weird, but this is something that I have a reason for. I don't like having other plots bouncing around in my head when I'm working on something. I want to be immersed in what I'm working on, let it simmer like a good soup. And if you throw in some veggies that don't jive well with the garlic or tomatoes you are cooking then your soup is ruined. It doesn't taste right and you have to start over. From scratch. (Another weird writer quirk? I compare my writing process to cooking. Or painting. And sometimes to cooking with paints. No, that last one isn't right. *shakes head* Back to the topic at hand...)

So, right now, there are three episodes of Justified on my DVR that my husband and I have not watched. It's like torture to him. And to me, when I think about it. Let's be honest folks, not watching Timothy Olyphant is definitely a form of torture. But, I just can't let my brain dip down into the delicious gun-slinging, Kentucky drama without wanting to write Mr. Olyphant into a scene in my book. (Or in my dreams.) So, it's the same thing with movies that have a gripping plot. I just can't sit down and watch it if I'm plotting. It's weird, it's annoying, and it's part of my process.

I do, however, have some movies that I know inside and out, that I can watch without it upsetting my process. In fact, when I'm painting and not writing, I often turn to these movies to amuse me in the background. What movies? Well, let me tell you! Love Actually. I actually love this movie. (See what I did there? Why are you groaning?) The soundtrack is one of the best movie soundtracks that I have ever heard and I'm a sucker for a British accent. (Oh no! I've revealed my weakness!) The Goonies! The theme music makes me smile. The 80's clothes and hair make me happy. I love the sappy moments and heart pounding action. (Okay, okay. I mean the light hearted action and happy ever after.) Harry and the Hendersons is another one that I can have on and laugh along to, without actually watching. (This also might explain my new obsession with the Discovery Channel's Finding Bigfoot. Hm.) Pride and Prejudice with Kiera Knightly. Again, I love the music and the accent. Also, watching hunky Mr. Darcy as he walks through the field in the last scene in slow motion. (Okay, so my dvd player doesn't have a slow motion option, but my imagination does!)

Here are a couple of other weird writing quirks that I have:

1.  I have a favorite table to sit at when I'm writing at my favorite coffee shop. I can see the whole shop from that spot and there is no one behind me. Makes it easier to concentrate. (And no, I don't pretend to be a spy most of the time.)

2.  I can't write when it's completely quiet.

3. I write better at night. (Much to my chagrin.)

4.  I listen to music on repeat when plotting a scene.

5.  I often plot while cleaning the house and listening to music on repeat. (My poor family.)

6.  If I'm stuck on a scene, I can hop in the car and go for a drive. I almost always work out my toughest scenes while driving.

So, those are some of my writerly quirks. If you can't guess, I have other quirks and I'd love to know that I'm not alone. What are some of your quirks? C'mon! Share!

And for those of you that do not follow my author page on Facebook, I am offering up a goody! If we can reach 60 reviews for Mortal Obligation on Amazon by Sunday (April 29th) then I will post the Immortal Grave prologue on my blog early. We're only 9 away! Can we do it? I think so! Just post your honest review (the good and the bad) by Sunday and Monday you will get the whole prologue. :)
Made With Love By The Dutch Lady Designs