Cyn

CAPA Nominated, EPPIE Finalist BLIND DEVOTION is the story of a woman living in jeopardy and a man chosen to protect her. Can a fighting priest save a woman once she's wakened, not one, but two mythical monsters?

Reviewers say:

A beautifully written tale of love, magic and faith, Ms. Storey has created a rich fantasy world that appeals to all of her reader's senses and tugs at the heartstrings. The conflict between Azari and Tor's feelings and the restrictions placed on them by society creates a gripping story that is sure to please anyone who loves a little magic mixed with their romance. Jennie, Enchanted Ramblings


Azari is a great character. She is confident and unwilling to sacrifice her strong will just to have a man. She would rather just remain a virgin until she finds a man who accepts her as she is. Tor is a strong man but he is unwilling to open himself to love since that would be sacrilegious towards his Goddess. Plus he has seen the suffering love can cause. When they first meet they are like oil and vinegar but Azari piques Tor’s interest because she doesn’t bow down and kiss his feet. Julie Esparza, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

Ms. Lucynda Storey has written an exciting story with all the romance, danger, and suspense you could ask for. I admired Azari for her hard-headed determination to stand by her man against impossible odds. Tor’s inner struggles between his growing love for Azari and his vows as a priest will keep every reader second guessing the ending.        Kathy, Coffeetime Romance

'Blind Devotion,' is appropriately named because of Tor's love of the goddess. The setting is a world where magic exists…. The story tells how people can misinterpret ideas, changing the original beliefs. Tor is dedicated and willing to sacrifice what he desires for his beliefs. Azari understands Tor and although she would like to be with him, loves him enough to let go. The romance is passionate and beautifully expressed. Anita, The Romance Studio



Blurb:

When Azari runs from a wild animal, she has no idea her life is about to change irrevocably. Unwittingly, she has awakened two mythical beings intent on possessing her. Escaping to an isolated cabin, Azari meets an unlikely protector, Tor, the High Priest of Eiliki. Together, Azari and Tor face the greatest challenges of their lives – survival. Will Tor’s blind devotion to the Goddess prevent him from accepting the greatest gift he’s ever been given, or will the dogma of his religion and his own past keep him from making the right decision?


Excerpt:

Dear Goddess, when had his needs ever overtaken his senses before? Anger with himself propelled him through the trees along the rough trail he chose. Long ago, he’d made a vow that he would not develop an attachment to any woman yet here he was lusting after Azari like some sort of proprietary animal. A beast led by carnal desire.

He’d have her to her home soon. They’d warn the village of the impending danger and then he’d be done with her. Despite the visions he’d seen in the globe, Tor would walk away from her. Before his emotions followed his rod. Before he buried himself in her sweet, hot wetness again. And again. And again.

Dear Goddess. No. This was not happening. Abruptly he stopped and leaned against a siasma tree. The stringy bark peeled easily beneath his fingers. How could he serve the Goddess when his thoughts continually returned to making love to Azari?

“Are you alright?”

Her voice blanketed him with softness. He stared at the hand that touched his arm. The longing he’d been trying to bank leapt to full flame again. He snapped, “How can I be when you touch me?”

At that, she dropped her hand and resumed her trek through the woods. It was only when Tor saw her run that he realized the wound he’d dealt.

Tor gave chase. Pain lanced his heart when he caught her and saw the tears on her face. “Azari. I’m not worthy of your tears. I cannot give you what you desire.”

Defiantly, she lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. “What do I desire?”

Wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb, he answered. “I know what you think. A home, family, love. I can give you none of those.”

“Don’t you want them?”

“I cannot want them.”

“Tor, the man, or Tor, the High Priest?”

“It’s not that simple, Azari. To want you for more than a vessel to spill my seed is sacrilege.”

“It didn’t stop you earlier.”

Around them, the sounds of the forest diminished, as if the animals prepared for a coming storm. “You used me, Azari. I willingly allowed it. Even after I told you the loss of your virginity would not alter, for reasons I don’t comprehend, the course of the dragon and cevere. Even after you saw for yourself the truth in the crystal.”

“And what if I want more?”

The truth tore through him. She did, indeed, want more. She wanted his love, something he’d given no other human since Salmond’s death. Her innocence and trust in him called to him, but he couldn’t allow himself to fall into dream she created. “It changes nothing.”

“I don’t care about the High Priest.”

“You must,” he replied, agony in his simple words.

She stroked her hand down his chest, down to his inner thigh. “I want Tor the man.”

If she fell in love with him, it would make it too easy to love her back, and that he would not do to either of them. He grabbed her wrist and wrenched her hand away. He had to stop this madness. “You have Tor, the High Priest. It’s time you remembered that.”

“You don’t think that way, I know it.”

Through lips held tight, he ground out, “You know nothing, Azari. The Goddess is my companion, not you.” He had to make her see that a relationship with him was not possible. He belonged to another, and his burgeoning feelings for the spitfire had to be dampened. He had to drive her emotionally away from him if either of them would live. “You are nothing but a vessel to be used for the conception of my child.”

The ramifications of their relationship were agonizingly simple. He had to make her see what loving him would do to her.

With deliberate coldness in his voice he continued, “A child that will be taken from you at birth and raised by another. An infant you will not be allowed to see once you’ve given birth. This is what you will receive for your union with me.”

He grabbed her shoulder and forced himself to look her directly in the eyes. He enunciated each word. “Nothing more.”

He watched her face. The confidence of a moment ago disappeared, replaced by a fresh injury.

“I do not believe this,” she whispered.

Neither do I, his heart ached to confess. In one short day, Azari had shown him the possibility of life with a real flesh and blood woman.

Tears glistened in her green eyes. His heart twisted, but he had to be as hard as the rocks that weakened the bottom of the canoe they’d left behind. The pain she’d endure now would be nothing compared to what she’d suffer if she persisted in the delusion of a mutual love they’d never share.

“It matters not what you believe. My life is what it is, given in service to Eiliki.” He delivered his final blow. “Don’t touch me, Azari, ever again, without my leave.”

www.lucyndastorey.com

BLIND DEVOTION available TODAY

Singer/songwriter Warren Zevon's biography is being touted this month in Denver by his former wife, Crystal, who will be signing books at Denver's Tattered Cover bookstore, one of the largest independent bookstores in the United States.

I was introduced to Warren's music about ten years ago when I received the Rhino compilation of his greatest hits. Zevon was rather like Don Henley in that he collaborated with a number of big music stars in his day. Some of his titles were used as film titles including "Werewolves of London" and "Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead", and "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead". A recording of "Werewolves of London" is here at YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhSc8qVMjKM&mode=relat...=

In fact, several influential rock musicans came together to cover many Zevon songs in “Enjoy Every Sandwich”. Warren Zevon died of a rare lung cancer on September 7, 2003 and is probably most well known for his song “Werewolves of London”.

I have a particular fondness for “Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead” J And the music of “Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner” has inspired several of my fight scenes. His song, “Lawyers, Guns and Money” has been recently covered, but perhaps the most popular in our household is “Gorilla, You’re a Desperado” a silly song about a gorilla taking the place of a man in LA.


Zevon had a natural talent for writing songs about contemporary events and significant cultural occurrences in American society. A song based on the travel of Philip Habib during the Carter years is called “The Envoy” and he wrote several historical songs including “Frank and Jesse James” and “Boom Boom Mancini”. I’ve included the CNN article on Zevon the day after he died. His biography has been written by Crystal Zevon, a former wife and includes interviews with several influential rock icons.

There are several YouTube videos about and with Warren including this interview with David Letterman.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFaDreSKLNI&NR=1

Singer Warren Zevon dead at 56Monday, September 8, 2003 Posted: 10:57 AM EDT (1457 GMT)

LOS ANGELES, California (AP)

-- Warren Zevon, who wrote and sang the rock hit "Werewolves of London" and was among the wittiest and most original of a broad circle of singer-songwriters to emerge from Los Angeles in the 1970s, died Sunday. He was 56. A lifelong smoker until quitting several years ago, Zevon announced in September 2002 that he had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer and had only months to live. He spent much of that time visiting with his two grown children and working on a final album.

Zevon died in his sleep Sunday at his home, publicist Carise Yatter said.

He faced death with the same dark sense of humor found in much of his music, including songs like "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead," "Life'll Kill Ya" and "Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead."

Zevon said he "chose a certain path and lived like Jim Morrison and lived 30 more years. You make choices and you have to live with the consequences."

He released his first album, "Wanted -- Dead or Alive," to little notice in 1969, but gained attention in the '70s by writing a string of popular songs for Linda Ronstadt, including "Poor, Poor Pitiful Me," "Carmelita" and "Hasten Down the Wind."

His next two albums, 1976's "Warren Zevon" and 1978's "Excitable Boy," followed those songs with darkly humorous tales of prom-date rapists; headless, gun-toting soldiers of fortune; and werewolves who drank pina coladas at singles bars and were particular about their hair.

They cemented Zevon's reputation as one of rock music's most politically incorrect lyricists, giving him a lifelong cult following that included gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson, former Minnesota Gov. Jesse Ventura and "Late Show" host David Letterman, who provided backing vocals on "Hit Somebody," Zevon's 2001 elegy to a professional hockey goon who longs to be a goal-scoring hero.

"I always like to have violent lyrics and violent music," Zevon told The Associated Press in 1990. "The knowledge of death and fear of death informs my existence. It's a safe, kind of cheerful way of dealing with that issue."

Other admirers included Bob Dylan, whom Zevon cited as one of his principal songwriting influences and who performed on his 1987 album "Sentimental Hygiene." Still another was Bruce Springsteen, who co-wrote "Jeannie Needs a Shooter," Zevon's tale of a lover shot to death by a woman's jealous father.

Zevon was known for songs like "Werewolves of London." Not that all of his music was dark and violent. His oveure contained some straight-out comedy as well, including "Mr. Bad Example," "The Hula Hula Boys" and "Gorilla You're a Desperado." The latter told the tale of a Los Angeles Zoo ape who escapes by locking a yuppie in his place and going off to live in the man's apartment, only to end up depressed and divorced.   The YouTube video of Werewolves gives you a sense of his humor.

His compositional style reflected a number of genres, from hard-driving rock to folk, as well as classical, polka and other influences. In his final months, he summoned the energy to complete a last album, "The Wind," released in August. It includes the poignant "Keep Me in Your Heart," a cranky "Disorder in the House" and a remake of Dylan's "Knockin' on Heaven's Door."

Zevon, born in Chicago to Russian immigrant parents, moved to Los Angeles in the 1960s, making a living writing jingles for television commercials. He also composed the song "She Quit Me Man" for the movie "Midnight Cowboy." He was just out of his teens when he went to work for the Everly Brothers, first as a pianist and later as their band leader.

In his last months, he told various interviewers he had no regrets, expressing particular gratitude that he had quit drinking in time to watch daughter Ariel and son Jordan grow up.

"I got to be the most [expletive deleted] rock star on the block, at least on my block," he once said. "And then I got to be a sober dad for 18 years. I've had two very full lives."

His family had noted that he lived far longer than was expected at the time of his diagnosis, long enough to enjoy twin grandsons born to Ariel.

****

When Warren found out he had terminal lung cancer in 2002 he was told he only had 3 months to live.

http://www.tatteredcover.com/NASApp/store/IndexJsp?s=storeevents&eventId=353176

Coming Soon: Blind Devotion from www.AspenMountainPress.com

Rose Light is one of those stories that goes unexpected places.  The sexual content includes a foot fetish scene which was surpisingly erotic as I'd never read something like that before. The historic feel to the story was well researched and the author, a resident of Great Britain spent time in the location, studying the homes of the era.

In this excerpt, Rose has recently returned from her mother’s grave and has made dinner for her step-mother and step-sisters.

Take one wicked stepmother and two older, conniving sisters, and you may think you’ve heard this tale before. You haven’t -- not this way. Let Rose Light tell you her story.

~*~*~*~*~~*

The little ones sat in silence, their eyes shifting from one adult to another. Hatred and amusement as well as weariness lit their collective gaze. Charlotte and Regina were from Margaret’s first marriage. The others were her siblings, or so Margaret said. Rose supposed they meant her to disregard that they looked nothing like either her or her father. They were girls all: Elise, Jane, Emily and Georgina.

“Finish serving,” Margaret ordered.

Rose had only placed the main course on the table. She had not even taken her seat and already the great sow feasted. Rose brought the vegetables to the table and served the others. The only sound in the room was the great smacking of two rubbery lips as the pig masticated.

A sudden knock at the door froze them all. Surprised glances met each other and passed over. Rose would have wiped her hands on her apron and answered it, but to her amazement, Regina, possibly overcome by the sight of pork on her plate, did it for her. No doubt, Regina thought it was her benefactor. A wealthy man came to call on her and a promise of marriage hung in the air. Rose suspected he had already wed, but his gifts helped to keep the roof over their heads.

Much to Rose’s personal surprise, a young man she certainly recognized entered the house. Regina, no doubt taken aback, brought him into the kitchen with her. John Bennett removed his top hat and glanced around the occupants of the room. Rose hovered behind Charlotte who had risen, and so remained hidden.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I regret disturbing you. I am looking for a woman by the name of Rose Light.”

In shock, Charlotte looked over her shoulder directly at Rose and moved to the side, revealing her. At the same time, Regina turned her head and smirked at her. As was so often the case, her eyes looked lazy and evil. Rose stared at John Bennett as he inclined his head a little at the sight of her. Returning to her senses, Margaret must have realized that gravy and spittle adorned her chin. She mopped at her face with a napkin, and then stood.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she began.

John Bennett regarded her. “Sorry for what, madam?”

“For whatever it is that my ungrateful stepdaughter has done, sir.” She waved a hand in the air as though illustrating her explanation. The gesture seemed to encompass all things as though the hovel they lived in was Rose’s fault and no other.

John Bennett moved further into the room. He gripped his hat as though it were the only thing separating him from the inhabitants. Rose lifted an eyebrow at the way he nervously clung to it. Lifting her gaze to his face, a peculiar notion overcame her that he had seen her speculation. He turned to her stepmother. “I assure you, Madam Light, she has done nothing other than speaking unexpectedly and forcing me to face a truth I did not wish to hear. In that, she has done a stranger an act of kindness. I wished to see if there was some form of benevolence I could repay in like manner.”

His declaration seemed to stun everyone and they exchanged the same wandering glances of confusion before staring inanely at the table. Everyone, including John Bennett, shifted awkwardly – everyone except Rose.

Now available at:

Aspen Mountain Press