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Friday, November 28, 2008

Michelle Houston's THE LIFE NOT LIVED


Something my friends have come to dread me saying is "I have an idea." It generally leads to no end of 'fun filled adventures'. LOL

So when I told Derek, Jamie, Jude, Cheri, Emma and Sky that I had an idea, I am lucky they all decided to play along and not string me up by my toenails.

What resulted is the kick-*ss anthology 413 Remembrance Lane: Diary of a House
The way each of the authors took the idea and ran with it, contributing another layer to the idea with each story, simply takes my breath away. Each of us contributed something special to this anthology, and we all worked together to get everything the way we wanted it.
This was actually my first acceptance with Phaze, even though Kinky Girls Do came out a few months earlier.
The genres cross a lot of roads with historical, contemporary,various flavors of paranormal, various heat levels, MF, MM, FF, MMF, and more.
413 REMEMBRANCE LANE: DIARY OF A HOUSE (anthology)
The Life Not Lived by Michelle Houston

http://www.king-cart.com/Phaze/product=Michelle+Houston/exact_match=exact

BLURB:

Two centuries, many owners, and the question has been asked . . . is it blessed, or cursed?
There is a certain house in New Orleans at 413 Remembrance Lane. Within the walls lives end and begin, myths and superstition blend with reality, erotic fantasies are realized, and always love has held the upper hand.

Is the house steeped in history and the emotions of those who have lived there? Or perhaps the legend goes a little deeper. Visit and find out for yourself . . .

'Midnight Confession' by Cheri Valmont offers a journey to the wild, untamed settlement of 1750s New Orleans. A place where a special house, a magical diary, and a pirate captain named Miles Chadwick holds the key to Catherine Ashbury's everlasting happiness... or complete ruin. (historical - pre-Revolutionary)

Serena Duclos is torn between two men and one very extraordinary request. Luckily, she lives in a house where wishes can come true and passion isn't always defined by convention ... in Emma Wildes' 'An Extraordinary Request' (historical - early 19th)

In Jude Mason's 'Of Death and Desire', Jonathan Strand moves himself and his terminally ill lover, Philip, to one of the lovely historical houses of New Orleans. Later, consumed by grief and tormenting dreams, he finds a diary, and perhaps the answer to his prayers. But at what price? (historical - turn of century 19th; M/M)

In 'The War Within' By D. Musgrave, William Beauregard returns from WWII, only to find the visions of the death and destruction haunting him still. He can't shake them and it's pushed him away from his wife, Sheila. These hauntings have him afraid of the voices and images and worries he may lash out at them, hurting his wife. To rid himself of the ghosts, he must take a huge risk, one that could lose his wife to him for ever. (historical - WWII)

In 'Let The Sunhine In' by Jamie Hill, Scott and Terri Walker move to Remembrance Lane hoping for a fresh start in their marriage. Handsome, hirsute Rafe McAllister isn't precisely what they're looking for, but might be exactly what they need. (historical - 70s; MMF menage; werewolf)

Mix in an old house, a magic diary, a sexy young college student and a sinfully handsome vampire and you've got a story sure to stir the... blood in Skyler Grey's 'My Vampire, My Love'. (contemporary; vampire)

Natasha has come to regret the choices she has made in her life, the biggest one being turning away from the one woman she had ever loved. But thanks to a late night visit from a succubus and the diary of 413 Remembrance Lane, she can have a second chance, in Michelle Houston's 'The Life Not Lived'. (contemporary; F/F; succubus)

EXCERPT: rated PG 13

Natasha shifted, not wanting the delicious sensations to end, but her mind demanded she wake up. It definitely ranked as the most erotic dream she'd ever had, including the night after her one and only visit to a strip club.

Shivering at the feel of a hand running up her inner thigh, Natasha's eyes fluttered open, unwillingly banishing the phantom remnants of her dream.

Shrieking, she sat up. Frantically, she pulled away from the strange woman in her bed. With her lush features and flaming red hair, she was attractive in a deeply sensual way. There was nothing subtle about her, and Natasha found herself responding on a deeply primal level.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, in her best "don't lie to me" professor tone, giving her words a strong bite. Realizing how stupid her actions were, she rolled over and grabbed the phone. She moved back, watchful of her intruder. The woman was gone, vanished.

Looking around the room, she saw the red-haired woman seated on her dresser, mile long legs crossed at the knee. There was no way she could have moved that fast—no mortal could. The medallion resting between her breasts suddenly grew warm.

"Forget who. What the hell are you?"

With a puff of crimson smoke, the woman disappeared, only to join her in bed. This time, she sat cross-legged, Indian style, at the foot. Completely naked.

Natasha licked her suddenly dry lips. Her mind fought the realization that reality was suddenly spinning away from her clear cut world of science. She had to be dreaming, there was no other explanation for what was happening.

A nagging reminder at the back of her consciousness screamed about the strange diary she had finally found the key for a few weeks earlier; the diary that told of all the paranormal exploits of the inhabitants of this very house. Shrugging off the incessant reminder, she confronted the woman in front of her with the same single-minded determination that had gotten her tenure before many of her colleagues, including her husband.

"I had better start getting some answers here, before I come to my senses and call the cops."
"Your mortal police have no power over me. I will be gone before you get the number dialed, and you will have lost your chance to find the answer to the truly important question you need answered."

Knowing how Alice would have felt as she fell down the rabbit hole, Natasha struggled with the science she chose to believe in and the curiosity that prompted her to question the existence of things science hadn't yet explained.

"Ok, I'll bite—what question should I be asking?"

The woman shook her head, sending her cascade of red tresses swirling in a riot of curls. "I can't tell you the question."

Michelle Houston
http://www.michellehouston.com/

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