There is a special excitement and anticipation in witnessing a story unfold as I write the first draft , channel the images and voices in my head onto paper (or my computer screen), and then embark on the journey of crafting it, shaping it into a tale of danger, passion, and adventure. As characters comes to life things change, motivations are revealed, and this fictional world reshapes itself.
When I research, I don't always use modern, politically correct, nor whitewashed and redacted materials. I dig into the past and comb through older texts on demonology, on the west through the eyes of those who lived it, on mythology, and on a different form of exotic loving and sex play. Books written in the 19th century and earlier fuel my imagination. I adore crawling through old texts. I flavor with more modern texts, stirred with a bit of having lived and traveled in Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, and the like.
I always loved watching old westerns. But I also love watching and reading horror--particularly the classics. And sift that all together with a good romantic relationship steeped high in eroticism. Perhaps I've blended, mixed, flavored, twisted, pounded, reshaped, and then baked this all together. And Deadeye is one of those creatures invoked by...more spicy and peppered tastes.
My latest story, Deadeye, is now available from the Amber Heat imprint of Amber Quill Press. In writing Deadeye, it began as a paranormal shapeshifter story taking place in an old west time period. Well, that was at the point where this story was one-dimensional theory, before my imagination went to work.
The old west was a time of danger, rugged men, adventurous women, dangerous outlaws. In other words a perfect setting for a world of devious, decadent demons and delicious temptation to thrive.
It's only as I really begin to dig into the characters and their backgrounds and lives that the story surges to life. And that's what happened with this one. Who was Vitus? What part did Caecilia play? I knew Justus was special, but I had to dig deeper as to why. I knew these characters were complex and existed in a very dark dominion. And I knew I couldn't be afraid to follow them into Infernia.
The result of that journey, the outcome of that collaboration is here, in Deadeye. What are the motivations that bring these three together? What perils will they face? And how will love triumph in the end? Are you fearless enough to travel with them to Deadeye?
I invite you to join Vitas, Caecilia, and Justus as they traverse the dangerous and exotic world of Deadeye...
Title: Deadeye
Author: Darcy Abriel
Publisher: Amber Quill Press/Amber Heat
Purchase Link: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberHeat/Deadeye.html
Genre: (Historical / The Old West / Dark Fantasy / Witchcraft / BDSM / Voyeurism / Exhibitionism / Ménage [M/M/F] / Group Sex / Contains Bisexual [M/M] Activity)
Author’s Website: http://www.darcyabriel.com
ISBN: 978-1-61124-040-5
Advisory: This book contains graphic violence, hardcore bondage and punishment, torture and blood play. May not be suitable for the more sensitive reader.
Blurb:
Dark and deadly adventure awaits in Deadeye. Vitus and Caecilia must embrace a world of lustful and devious demons in order to succeed in their mission. And Justus, an incubus, son of the demon lord of Infernia, must shed his dark shadow in order to accept his destiny as a Nacraecian Dreamweaver Sorcerer. Three who meet, three who must face their duty, three who risk everything to be free.
EXCERPT:
Caecilia stumbled forward toward the edge of town, the echo of gunshot ringing in her ears, the laughter of evil men chasing her, the taste of dust in her mouth, clogging her throat.
Determined, she tried to step past the city marker but found she couldn’t, her feet were cemented to the spot.
“No!” She tried again, struggled impotently to step onto the Flats, her eyes focused on the Saguaro Forest beyond. She heard the sound of dragging footsteps and turned to see two chained hell-zombies dragging the dead body of the gunfighter behind them. How easily they breached the boundary of Deadeye, soon lost within the prickly trees beyond. She watched, somehow envious of the dead gunfighter.
She felt the pull of the incubus, drawing her away, back toward the town. Undeniable lust building, forcing her to return, to search him out. She fought his control—she fought herself. Her hand rose to curl around the talisman—which was no longer there. She stifled a sob. Waves of intense heat rippled through her. The carpetbag dropped into the dust. Caecilia fell to her knees. Arms wrapped around her as she attempted to still the sexual agony that gripped her.
“Caecilia.” Vitus gathered her up in his arms.
“Oh, Vitus, what have I done?”
He gathered her close, but still the pain would not abate. In this, there was only one creature who could help her.
She tucked her head against Vitus’s shoulder. She didn’t care where they went as long as she was in his arms. He walked for a time, turned and strode down an alley next to the general store. She lifted her head. He set her on her feet, then closed his eyes and waved an arm. The scene changed.
“You have this power?” she said. “How?”
She gazed upon the shimmering scene of where they had first made love so long ago. Back to Rome and the banks of the Tiber River. A time when innocence and passion had once belonged to them. He took her hand and led her onto the lush grass.
“Do you remember, Caecilia? Do you remember how it was? Sometimes—sometimes I think it was only an illusion used by the gods to taunt me. But if it was all illusion, it’s the only thing that kept me from succumbing completely to Zevodious’s total domination.” He looked at her. “When the lust is sated, you are all that is left—all that I hold close. You possess my heart and you maintain a powerful grip. No matter what else happens to me, my love for you is all that really matters.”
“We have not spoken of that time you were sent to Infernia.”
“It is not to be spoken of.”
“Why did he let you go?” She had wondered because Zevodious was not known for leniency.
Vitus looked into her eyes. She saw within them the flames of Infernia, ever present inside him. “He hasn’t released me. But I serve two masters, remember? On occasion when Zevodious summons me I’m still forced to obey. He allows only an illusion of freedom, just as Apollo does. He enjoyed the game of cat-and-mouse. The only reason I’m here is because Apollo commands. Even Zevodious recognizes my first obedience to Apollo. A god’s demand supersedes that of a demon’s pleasure. It just happens in this instance both masters are of one mind. How much amusement they must both take from this situation.”
“We’ll never be free. There is no hope for us. I always thought—always believed that someday we would be together. Instead they simply bind us more tightly. First to Diana, then to Aphrodite, and now…my body is enslaved to an incubus.”
He pulled her more tightly into his arms. “I won’t give up, nor will I allow you to do so.” He lay her back on the grass and slowly began to undo her dress. She stilled his hand. “No, it will shame me. I don’t want you to see the evidence of the incubus’s lust.”
“You have been witness to my shame. Do you think less of me because of the mark of Zevodious?”
“No, of course not. You did what you must.”
“In this place there is no shame, there is only us, Caecilia. Only our love.”
She knelt on the grass and reached for the buttons of his shirt. As he removed her blouse, she bared him. He stood and helped her up. She turned so that he could unfasten her skirts, and then her petticoats. He removed the bustle and tossed it aside. He turned her, knelt down, unfastened her boots and removed them. He removed the garters, rolled her white stockings down her legs and then removed them. He looked up at her. She cupped his face.
“Oh, Vitus, this is dangerous. They set so many traps for us.”
He rose, held out her arm, lowered his head and kissed one of her bruises. Her eyes opened wide as there was a flash of red light and when he lifted away, the bruise, and the pain, were gone.
“You have the power of healing?” she said, as she watched in wonder as each of the bruises on her arm vanished at his touch.
He looked at her. “It is a dark gift, nothing more. The bruises will not return, but within an hour the pain will. Such is this gift from Zevodious. I can offer you only temporary ease.”
“And this place, the ability to conjure, is that a dark gift as well.”
He nodded. “To lure the innocent. To seduce and capture. Nothing more.” His smile was twisted. “Is it not working? Am I not succeeding in my seduction?”
He drew her close, kissed the bruises on her neck, even as he removed her corset and chemise. “His purpose in this gift is to prolong his games. To gift relief and to take it away. I’ve only found one way to bind it, and I can’t perform the ritual on you. It is a sadistic gift. I only offer it now to provide some measure of relief. I know the…first time you succumb to the darkness in your soul is…shattering. But you can survive it. You will survive.”
She knelt before him, lifted one of his feet, removed his boot, and tossed it aside along with the sock. Then she did the same with the other. She leaned up to unfasten his jeans and shove them down over his hips.
His cock sprang free. Her passion was dark and lustful, altered from what it had once been. She did not take him into her mouth—she dared not for it could not end there. But she inhaled his earthy scent. She smelled him, the grass, the water—all clean scents, remembered images and feelings filled her mind.
“I remember how it was, Vitus. I remember us. You are my heartmate, I recognized you at once. There will never be another for me.”
His fingers threaded through her long white-blond hair. “Yes,” he said, his voice, deep and gravelly. She turned her head and was met with the mark of Zevodious. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the outline of the brand. She traced it with her tongue. She heard his audible groan. He dropped to his knees, cupped her face, stared into her eyes. She saw the fire, saw the war of emotion, felt the heat that burned beneath his skin. His lips drew closer. She licked her own. She closed her eyes. He pressed his lips to her throat, her shoulder, across the ragged marks on her chest. She felt his cock pressed against her, wanting it to be inside her, filling her. She remembered the sweet ache of the first time he took her.
“Vitus.” His name was an ache of need upon her lips.
He wrapped her in his arms, she felt his hot, moist breath against her shoulder. Sighing, he pulled away. “Come lie with me on the banks of the Tiber. As we once did. Let me hold you.”
She gazed up at him and finally nodded. They lay near enough to listen to the lulling sounds of the babbling water. She smelled the grass, inhaled its clean fragrance. Vitus spooned himself against her back, flesh to flesh. She felt the strong beating of his heart, heard his breaths, felt his cock lodged against her ass. He stroked her arm, down along her curved hip, again and again, until he had lulled her into a world of dreams where she could once again revel in his touch alone. For the moment the pain and the lust were quieted.
As with all things in Infernia, the illusion didn’t last. Caecilia awoke in agony, a scream upon her lips, as she writhed and clawed at the ground, unprepared for the violent lust that gripped her.
“Justus!”
Read another excerpt at: http://www.darcyabriel.com/deadeye.html
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