naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)

Indiegogo has changed how they do things.  Now we won't be getting the money as the campaign goes along, but all in a lump at the end, which leaves us with nothing to live on in the meantime.  So, we're launching this campaign, but will also be running a fundraiser through Gofundme or Youcaring or something to cover stuff like rent for this month.  Just so you know.  But we'll need your support on both.  This hit us unexpectedly and so we weren't prepared for it at all.

There are other announcements, but for now, I'm gonna leave you with this:

Masks and Madams is the long-awaited sequel to Pride & Prostitutes, our very first Adventurotica novel from 2010.

In 1884, Dolores "Dolly" Pride was drawn into her twin sister Delilah's exciting life of adventure, action, and sex.  The proper wife of Sheriff Hawk Pride, she was forced to impersonate her sister when she went missing, and learned to be a madam, as well as the masked avenger known as The Black Lash.

Now, a year later, Dolly and Delilah happily share the position of Madam, and they both ride the night as the Black Lash - righting wrongs and defending the innocent in frontier Kansas.  But now an international convocation of madams is coming in San Francisco, and Delilah cannot go, as she has evil to root out at home.  So Dolly will go in her place, meet madams from all over the world, and face the evil of Professor Von Draco and his designs upon the West - and the World!

FINALLY, the sequel!
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
What the hell, how is it December already?!

We are at 47% on The Graveyard of Empires, with 40 days left. We're only $110 short of 50%!

Y'all are really amazing, and helping out so much. I've gotten a couple of really generous donations in the last couple days, and it's going to make all the difference in the world.

Thank you. For sticking with us, for getting the word out there, for sharing what you have with us.

This is how we make it. With your help.

naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
We were going to wait until later in the month to launch, but we are so broke we have to do it now.  Good news for you!

That thar's our fancy book trailer.

The Eden Kane series began with Sky Pirates of the Rio Grande, continued in Queen of the Sky Frontier, and will reach its awesome conclusion in The Graveyard of Empires.

In 1867 Eden Kane left her job at the Smithsonian and headed west, intending to find the fabled Dark Aetheric Transmitter and become an agent of the government.  Instead, she became a leader to the Brethren of the Sky - the airship pirates who control the western frontier.  The following year, she faced her greatest danger as the former Confederate General Hood plotted to become the overlord of the West and destroy Washington D.C.

Now, with three of his superior air-warships at her command, Eden has become a power to be reckoned with, and as the forces of a weakened government and scheming robber barons converge on the frontier, she must find what course she intends to steer, and hold to it.  With her constant companions - the Experimentals Zenobia Santiago and Diamondback Sally , Eden must try and carve out the destiny of the Brethren in the West - the Graveyard of Empires.
That's the synopsis!

The Indiegogo page is here:

When y'all check out, we urge everyone donating to use Paypal if they can, not credit cards.  We still get the money from credit card payments, but it takes much longer to reach us, and Paypal funds are available pretty much immediately.  We need it immediately.  We're not even treading water here.  We're going under and we need all the help we can get.

So please, donate.  Spread the word.  Help out.  I'm trying to be as positive as I can, but the truth is that I'm scared as hell.

This is going to be an awesome book, though, and it will be SO satisfying to have the trilogy wrapped.

Sargon has done a great job with the series so far and I really look forward to seeing where he takes it.

Please lend a hand if you can.
  This is . . . pretty much all we have.

Thank you.

naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)

Thank you for spreading the word!

We are about 36 hours from the end of the campaign for The Forbidden Island, and we could still use whatever you have to spare, so if you haven't donated yet, please consider doing so!  We need all the help we can get, honestly.  Five bucks.  Ten bucks.  It feeds us.

This does put us in a better position.  We're very grateful for everything you all have done so far to help out.

<3  Thank you.

You're the best.

I'm gonna go collapse now.  Very tired.  Long few days, here.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
Please come help us out on the Forbidden Island campaign!  We have five days left, and $1,200 to raise!

Here is a post on Tumblr you can boost!

Please take the time to share it.  It only takes a second to reblog, and it really helps.  We have a long way to go, and things don't look so great, so I'm really hoping that we can get the word out and get this done so we don't havew to forfeit part of the money if we don't make it.

Thanks, everyone.

Again, even ten bucks helps.  Please consider it.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
So we were way far from goal, and we got an extension from Indiegogo, which means we have 10 days left to hit our target.  The book is proceeding apace, and I think this crazy mashup of King Kong, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Tarzan is going to be a whole lot of fun.

So please, if you can head on over to our campaign page and throw something our way.

Annnnd here's a little excerpt to give you a sample.  Our characters have been marooned on a savage island in the Indian Ocean, they don't really trust each other, and now they find the place is not as deserted as they thought...

The scream woke her up in the pit of night.  The fire was burned low and she could scarcely see anything.  For a moment Cecily was not sure where she was, sat panting in the near darkness.  She opened her mouth to call out when a hand clamped over it and silenced her.  "Shhhhhhh," a voice whispered in her ear.  "Keep quiet."  She recognized Buck's low voice and massive hands.

He let go of her and she turned to look at him, saw Simon and Ragland already awake, crouched by the fire.  She jumped as she heard something thud against the roof, sending bits of it rattling down.  She swallowed, turned to speak right in Buck's ear in the lowest whisper she could manage.  "What is it?"

"Don't know," he said in the same almost breathless voice.  "But it's big."

It screamed again, something primordial and terrible, an ascending shriek that cut through the night and seemed to go on longer than any sound made by an animal had a right to.  Cecily twitched as she heard something move across the roof, the spars and beams creaking.  She heard something paw at the sailcloth and she scooted back closer to Buck, just then realizing she was naked as the day she was born.  Her sweaty skin moved against his own, and she knew she reeked of sex.

"Stay down," he said softly and moved away from her, reached into a shadow and came up with a hatchet, gleaming darkly in the glow of the embers.  He paused for a moment, all of them listening to the low sounds of something moving around on the roof of the treehouse.  Then Buck passed her the hatchet and motioned toward Ragland, and she nodded and reached to hand it over while Buck dug around and came up with a keen-edged cutlass.

The frame of the roof creaked, and then they all heard the distinct thump of a weight landing on the ledge just outside the makeshift curtain.  Cecily crawled backward away from it, while Buck and Ragland turned to face it.  It was pitch dark outside, and little better in here, so there was nothing to show what was out there.  They all held still, listening for a moment, breathless.  A soft pattering fell on the roof, and after a terrified moment Cecily realized it was rain.  She heard the trees around them come alive with the sound of raindrops, and then something just outside snorted and growled, a deep and resonant sound that seemed to vibrate in her chest.

naamah_darling: A very sweet-faced one-eyed Himalayan cat with a crooked jaw. (Cats)
Hey, guys! 

We really need your help on the Forbidden Island campaign.

Please give it a go, if you haven't already.  We aren't bringing in enough to cover what we need to live, and anything you can give would be very much appreciated.  We got an extension to give us a better chance of making it, but with only 10 days left, we're kind of dragging, and I'm really worried we won't make it this time.

Thanks for helping.  Spread the word if you can.

I'll update again soon with a link to a tumblr post, but if you could go ahead and spread the word now, that'd be really great.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
Hey!  We could use a hand.  We only have ten days left on the Indiegogo for The Forbidden Island, and aren't even at 50% yet, so we could really use your help.

I'm supposed to be doing a good job of selling this to y'all and I'm falling down on that because I'm just . . . bottom of the barrel.  I live there nowadays.  I'm okay, mostly, but I can't muster enthusiasm for much of anything.  I'm sorry.  Work on fulfillment for other campaigns proceeds.  We're trying.  I'm trying.  I'm catching up.  Slowly, but surely.

So throw some help our way if you can, any amount.  Five bucks, ten bucks.  This feeds us.  This keeps a roof over our heads.  I know I repeat myself, I'm sorry, and I know I should be chipper, but . . . goddamn, this wears on you after a while.  If you can help, help.  Please.  I really appreciate it.

Finished the course of meds that were meant to treat the painful digestive issues I'd been having.  Now I get to wait to see if it comes back, which is possible, in which case at least we have an effective drug that cannot be used continuously, but could be used to give me a month-long-ish "holiday" from the pain a couple times a year, provided Medicaid will keep covering the $1,400 price tag of repeated treatments.  If not, at least I had a little over a month of getting to enjoy normal foods.

That . . . is . . . the most upsetting couple of sentences I have ever typed.

This medication also helped my rosacea, and has reduced it so much there's only redness and one vaguely pimple-y spot left.  That probably won't last, but it's nice to not have my face hurt all the time.  My skin texture is still ruined from both the rosacea and the topical treatments, far beyond the ability of beauty products to remedy.  And that hurts.  I should get some new pictures of myself while I can still remove make-up without pain and bleeding.

I'm trying not to be too upset or afraid that it will come back, all of it.  But it probably will, and I'm trying to . . . tank up, I guess, and deal with that possibility as best I can.  Which, I'll be honest, isn't very.  I'm scared as hell.

I know a lot of y'all deal with way worse, which is why I haven't been talking about/complaining about this much, but it eats at me.

Think good thoughts for me, please.  Please.  I'm sorting through so much complicated life crap right now, and I'm so confused, and so lost, and I really need all the good wishes I can get.

Love you all.

I'll try to be more cheerful soon.

naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
We're at 27% on The Forbidden Island!  Thank you for all your help so far!

We still have 30 days left, so if you want to save up for a perk, there should hopefully be time.

Again, if you don't want a perk, you can just flat-out throw money at us through the giant pink CONTRIBUTE NOW button, and enter your own amount.  Even five bucks is helpful.

So drop on by!
  Help us make goal!  Every bit helps us stay afloat a little longer.  We really appreciate it, and couldn't do it without you.  The asshole cats appreciate it, too.  I promise I'll try to post pics of them next time, but they are both doing well and are as annoying and adorable as ever.
naamah_darling: Cartoony picture of a black panther with curved horns and a red ball in his mouth. He wants to play. (Jandar Sad)
Come check out the campaign for The Forbidden Island!

We're at 16% with 39 days to go!

We still have tons of great perks, including random original drawings, bonus scenes, and guest appearances.

Progress on the other campaigns' perks proceeds apace.  I haven't been feeling very much myself and I do pretty much all the formatting and design work myself, as well as art perks, so things have fallen behind, but I am working hard every day to catch up, and I hope to clear the backlog soon.  

We'd really appreciate anything you can throw our way.  Your support is important to us, and necessary.  It helps us keep a roof over our heads, and pays for the meds and such that Medicaid just refuses to cover.

So please take a minute, hike over to Indiegogo, and poke around a bit.


naamah_darling: Lucian from Underworld next to a snarling wolf. From the dark into the black, throwbacks always have to go. (Lucian Throwbacks)
Hey, everyone, new project launch!

It's that time.  New campaign.  We've raised the goal on this and extended the time, since our expenses aren't exactly going down.

I posted on Tumblr about it, and you can find that here for purposes of reblogging.

Here's the text, if you'd rather repost on LJ instead.  A real-life update is coming soon.  There's just been a lot of crap gong on and I have been in a really low place.  Sorry I haven't been in communication as much as usual.

Anyway, the text:


My husband and I are running an Indiegogo campaign to fund our erotica novel, The Forbidden Island, a high adventure porn romance.

Why should you care?

I’m disabled — bipolar II and panic disorder — and cannot work. The government money doesn’t even cover our mortgage. I’m on meds and nutritional supplements to manage rosacea and IBS that Medicaid refuses to pay for, and which run about $200 a month. Basically, this is our only source of income besides EBT and SSDI, and our expenses outweigh our income.

You should also care because it will be awesome:

In 1773 Lord and Lady Blackwood, along with their daughter Hannah, sailed into uncharted seas and vanished, leaving behind only their youngest daughter, Cecily, barely out of infancy.

Now, fifteen years later, Cecily is grown and seeks to solve the mystery of her family’s disappearance. She sails into the same mysterious corner of the Indian Ocean in search of the same island her father sought - the Forbidden Island.

There she will face danger, mystery, pirates, lust, and the secrets of a lost civilization, as she tries to unravel what happened to her parents, and what has become of her sister.

So please, if you’d be kind enough to help out, please go take a look. You can donate any amount, and you don’t have to take a perk. We have some fun perks, though, including guest appearances, and a custom pirate pony. (I customize My Little Ponies. More on that later, or on request.)

If y’all could reblog, that would be fantastic. This is seriously how we get by, and it’s still close to the edge.

Here’s the link again!
naamah_darling: A tiny week-old tabby kitten with her paws raised and her eyes half-closed. (Kittens)
We haven't even cracked $500 on The Shadow Princess, so if you have a minute, go over and check out the campaign and throw a donation our way if you can spare it.

We've got some big bills due, including website hosting, and Smooch needs to see the vet soon because he needs to get his teeth cleaned (I think he's got a rotten tooth) and get his shots so we can have him groomed.  His adult coat is reaching its final development (he is achieving his final form) and I'd like to have him professionally raked every three or four months.  I'd also like to just have him seeing the vet regularly, to get him established at the office and get everyone familiar with him.  He may require a lot of medical care later in life, and I want to lay the groundwork for that now, while he's still young and healthy (and stinky).

I get less than $500 a month from SSDI, and our food card benefits keep getting cut because evidently some assholes think that will motivate me to magically not be disabled, so this is how we make up the slack.  It's a lot of slack.  (I realize it's gauche to do this sort of thing.  The artists/writers who point that out are inevitably relatively well-off, and usually mentally healthy, too, so . . . I don't have that luxury.)

I'd be more articulate about it and dance for your amusement, but . . . I'm tired.  I've been tired a lot lately, I know, and it's seriously screwing things up over here.  I'm not getting enough done, and I've been really depressed.  Not in a dripping-with-gloom-and-despair sort of way, just . . . quietly.  The kind of depression that means I don't want to do anything, have a hard time doing anything, and don't enjoy things I usually enjoy.

I love you all.  I wish I could engage more.  I wish I wasn't broken.

Anyway, an excerpt (actual dialogue, not just porn):

Text under cut! )
I really like Zirel.  Like, a lot.  Endario is a twerp, and is generally just adorkable.

Again, hop over to The Shadow Princess campaign page and throw five or ten bucks our way.  It helps.  Every little bit helps.

Thank you to everyone who has helped already by donating or spreading the word!
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
Twenty hours to go on the Imperial Blood campaign. We are at 89%. That's $375 from goal. That's all!

If we sell that last pony slot, we're pretty much there. Home free.

Obviously I would really like to make it. Even two bucks, or five, makes a difference. If we don't make goal, we forfeit about $150 of what we've made, which would be less than ideal.

We also have those little guys for $25. The come already gift boxed to save you the frustration of trying to wrap something so weird.

So give it some thought, eh?

Thank you for everything. For all the boosting -- y'all have done a really outstanding job of it this time -- and thank you for the donations, and the words of support.

I truly, truly think this is one of the best things we've done, and if you are at all kinky, maybe give it a try.

The link, one last time!

We appreciate everything so much.  Cross your fingers.  I still think we can get there.

Someone buy that pony!

naamah_darling: Close cropped image of a blonde ponytailed man with a woman pulling a black stocking tightly around his neck. (BDSM)
We're at 83% on Imperial Blood -- $2,911 with $589 to go in two days.

I'd like to make it, obviously, but I don't think it's going to happen. Still, anything you can spare, that would help enormously.

We won't starve, but whatever makes it easier, you know? We really appreciate the help.

I personally think that this is the best thing we've produced in a long time. It's Moorcock-ian, a little, and very Tanith Lee, and the chapter Sargon sent to me yesterday had me grinning like a sack of possum heads the entire time. I couldn't stop grinning while I was talking about it, so I sounded really goofy when I was like "YAY HATEFUCKING!" It's pretty depraved, and so, so hot. OMFG.

The lovely Ashbet will be happy to tell you all about it, I'm sure, as she's generously helping us out with copyediting, and has seen the first dozen or so chapters.

I'm having a crappy and frustrating day today, sort of, so I'll leave it at that. Here is the link again:

Love you all. Thank you for being there.

Edit: Ashbet had this to say in comments:

And, yes -- people, if you are on the fence about this book, DO NOT BE. I'm enjoying it IMMENSELY, and the combination of slow build, intricately-textured setting, classic dark-fantasy elements, and OH DEAR GOD FAN YOURSELF hot kinky sex is *delightful*.

I haven't enjoyed erotica to this extent in AGES -- and I'm DIRTY, guys. So if I say it's hot, trust me.
Now go buy it, and you can thank me later for the recommendation ;)
Well, shit, I'll thank you NOW.  That's an awesome endorsement!
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
We're lagging at 75% and four days left. That's kind of steep at $290 a day until we get there, but I'm really hoping we can make it.

If you've been meaning to donate -- maybe you didn't get paid until today -- don't miss your chance! Even five bucks helps us get there.

This is, after all, how we feed these assholes:

Etrigan Lounging

Smooch Lounging

Who have been extraordinarily shitty today, but I still love the crap out of them. Also Sif and Fish, who are still kicking around, but are extraordinarily camera-shy and tend to avoid coming out into the main part of the house when the Thug Brothers are lurking about.

Here's another of Etrigan looking very Playgirl. He has these ludicrous, weedy little patches of white fur at his groin and under his arms and on his chest. He is a very manly cat, he tells me. I tell him he's neutered so it doesn't matter in the slightest. He licks his butt and ignores me. He's an asshole.

Anus is the Centerfold

It's so damn hard to get pictures of him. He's black, and the room is really dim most of the time, so we have to use the flash, which gives him these being-controlled-from-space glowing eyes. You can see a bit of the little red harness I got him so we can train him to walk -- or, most likely, just sit -- on a leash. But he wants to go outside so very badly, and there's no way in flipping hell we are letting him just go do that when he's about as smart as plywood, or ham.  He looks good in red, though.  Damn.

Anyway, both of these furry dickbutts would appreciate any help, whether that is well-wishes, money for treats and vet stuff, or linkage.  We would appreciate it, too.  This is how we get by.  I know you all know that by now, but just in case there's anyone new, you know?

Come on over! There's still plenty of perks to grab!  Three more days and then I fuck off with the bothering you!

 I must stress, Imperial Blood is really different from the other stuff we've done, but damn, it's good.
naamah_darling: Picture of a treasure chest with a skull and crossbones on top. My art! (Artistic)
We're at 74% on Imperial Blood as of this morning! We have 6 days left, and really need to make some progress over the weekend to make goal, so if you've been putting it off, now would be a great time.

There is still one pony slot left. Get your very own goth fairy pony in your preferred color, as well as the other perks that come with the package! Y'all saw what the last set of ponies wound up like. These will be just as cool!

Here's another excerpt!

Excerpt from Chapter 10

Acrisius loomed like an armored shadow, the jagged curls of his epaulets and black breastplate like claws in the air. His face floated above, white and godlike, so perfect and so still in every line, unknowable. He looked at her, and she twitched with the sensation that he truly looked on her for the first time. That he saw her whole and real, not a figure who might as well be stone and voiceless fear.

"Do you know how many brides I have taken?" he said, and his voice was almost gentle.

"Six," she said, her voice small and weighted down.

He shook his head, silver white hair uncoiling. "One, before. Only one. The rest of them. . . they did not survive to become true brides. I never touched them, not even once." He paused, as if about to speak, or waiting for her to speak, but she remained silent.

"To become a true bride, you must become like me," he said, looking down at her. "To survive my touch, to feel the caress of my hands, you must die and let another life in. But it is no easy thing to make one such as myself. Of all the lords of the Kathari - all the nine of us - only I remain. It must be done so carefully, so very carefully." He held out his hand, as though to touch her face, but he did not. She felt the hunger in his flesh like daggers in the air.

"I must make you into a creature like Narcissa, or my Nightguard," he said, gesturing to them. "Fed upon my blood, and thus my slave. You will be so, and it will change you, make you into something more than mere flesh. But I learned, to my regret, that to simply give my blood to a mortal begins to burn that mortal away from within. They cannot endure forever upon such a poison as I bleed. They burn, and wither, and die."

He looked at her again, then beckoned. "Hold out a strand of your hair," he said.

Slowly, feeling as if she dreamed, Sibylla teased from her unruly hair a single strand. She plucked it from her head and held it out, almost invisible in the darkness, a slender thread of red-gold drifting from her hand.

Acrisius reached out a hand and hooked it with his finger, and she saw it crumble away in an instant, flutter into dust as the end of it stung her fingers. She snatched her hand back and looked at him, remembering the man in the throne hall, the blackened dust that had been a living body. Now she shivered and believed - he would kill her with a touch, no matter how the blood in her neck and her back beat for him, pulled her toward him.

"To survive, you must first be given a small taste of my blood, in the ink which marks your skin. Some it smokes and burns like true embers, sears its way out and marks the skin with scars. That small mark upon your neck has killed three of those who would be my empress. Just that." He watched as she touched the back of her neck, dispassionate and still. But there was something behind his eyes, yes there was.

"Yes," he said to her look. "Just that killed three of them. One died at the second marking, her heart stopped like a stone. One, only one since the very first survived to this moment."

Sibylla was silent, but her eyes flicked around at the room. She wondered what screams the walls had endured. She wondered where the girls lay buried. Had they been younger than she, or older? Had they been afraid, as she was?

"I could mark you again, and again, seeking a clear sign," he said. "But no girl in a thousand years had taken the marks so well, so strongly. They grow upon your flesh, my blood making new marks, new paths upon you." He breathed out a cold breath like winter's dying. "You are ready."

She swallowed, suddenly turned to stone with terror or pleasure, she did not know which. Sibylla remembered to breathe, swallowed again past a locked throat. "Ready?"

Acrisius moved, brought his left hand into view, and she went utterly still and cold when she saw the sheathed sword in his fist. It was a long blade with a long hilt bound in black skin. The pommel bore a red stone like a sleepy eye, and the guard was coiled and curled in a strange style. All of it was dark and gleaming as black ice.

Slow, he set his right hand to the hilt and drew the blade forth. It was dark, like dusk when the sun has just closed its eye. A long, two-edged blade marked with sigils and words she could not guess. Long as her body, he held it up easily. The blade did not reflect any of the room's cold lights, seemed a part of something other.

"This is my sword," he said, his face set and hard. "In elder times they called it Soulbreaker, and it was feared as few things are feared. Do you know its power?"

Sibylla wanted to run, never feeling more naked than she did now, unclothed before that deathly blade. She shook her head, lowered her eyes to the floor and curled her hands into fists, rigid with the terror of blood and pain that seemed to seep from the weapon like mist.

"Well, I shall show you." He lowered the sword, and she saw the shadow pass over her, and then it touched her on the back, the slightest whisper of the edge on her skin and her world flew apart into screams. Pain, such pain as she had never imagined could exist in her body. It slashed through her like the snap of a pennon and she fell facedown on the floor, breathing harsh and deeply, gasping and shaking as if run without pause for a day and a night.

"That is the power of the sword," he said, his voice flat and contemplative. "It draws pain as other blades draw blood. Though it draws blood as well. It draws blood."

She looked up at him from the floor, terrified he would cut her with that sword, but he did not look at her. He extended his left arm and Narcissa came to him, took the sheath from his hand and laid it aside. He did not look at her as she undid the fastenings of his gauntlet with quick, sure hands. She drew the armor from his hand and left him bare to the elbow, his ancient skin so white it seemed to glow.

Narcissa set the gauntlet aside and then knelt on the floor, sinuous and graceful. Sibylla watched, transfixed, as Acrisius set the edge of his sword against his wrist and cut his flesh ever so slightly. Just a small touch, and red welled up, so dark it was almost black. He turned his hand and a droplet flowed over his palm to his finger. He held it over Narcissa's head, and she arched back with her mouth open, her tongue extended in obscene hunger.

Sibylla watched that dark drop grow heavy, swell, and then fall into the white woman's mouth. Narcissa went still, almost rigid, and then her face colored and she shivered all over. When she opened her eyes, they were filmed with red, and she closed her mouth, savoring him, shuddering and grunting like a beast.

Acrisius turned to Sibylla, gestured. "Up," he said, and she crawled back up onto the altar, red velvet sliding under her hands and knees. "They will hold you," he said, and she was seized by strong, bare hands. She looked, and saw the guards were naked, their bodies so covered with tattoos that even their faces were unreadable, unseeable, unknown. They gripped tight to her arms and legs, curled strong arms around her waist and her belly. A hand gripped her hair and pulled her head back until she looked straight up, unable to move, trembling.

The tip of Soulbreaker loomed into her view and she made a small sound, a weak sound. A drop of his blood ran down the edge and gathered at the tip, hung there for a moment, suspended. It looked like a black jewel, an agate or a carnelian, more precious than any stone. His blood, unmixed, and pure.

Before they made her, she opened her mouth willingly. She feared to miss it, and so she put out her tongue like an animal begging for scraps. She saw the drop grow heavy, and then it dropped free. Sibylla closed her eyes and lived a moment of forever in silence. Then blood touched her tongue, like a kiss of fire.
Come throw us a dollar or two! Our thanks to everyone who has supported us so far. We thank you from the bottoms of our pornographic hearts.  Thank you for your help, and thank you for your patience.

Etrigan is at my feet, purring.  I can feel it through my toes, which are digging into his ribs.  Smooch is grooming himself somewhere behind the loveseat, making mudcrab noises with his fucked-up little mouth.  They would thank you, too, if they could.

naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
Imperial Blood is sitting at 68% with eleven days to go!

If Sargon the Terrible is nice, maybe we can have another excerpt.  At any rate, we have eleven days on the timer, and I am pleased by our progress so far.  I thought I'd send you off into the weekend with a reminder to donate if you can!

Really grateful to everyone so far for spreading the word and helping out with contributions!

Real quick updates on everything else:

I was able to bring the inflammation in my hands down enough for whatever it was to almost totally resolve on its own before the appointment.  Monday came around and I was just not up for the drive and the wait.  It wasn't happening.  No spoons for it.  I was going to have to see the doctor in two weeks anyway to have my thyroid re-checked, so I canceled and am just going to fold the two appointments in together.  I'm still taking it seriously, but right now there's nothing that needs to be done, I just need to talk to the doc.  I wish I had the fucking energy to deal with this shit as promptly as I ought to, but in the midst of a downswing, the energy isn't there.

I'm hoping to post pics of the steamponies next week!  Which is awesome, because we still have one custom pony slot open on the current campaign.

My downward depressive spiral seems to have leveled off.  I'm still not as functional as I'd like, but at least things are getting done.  Really slowly.  Even if I am freaking out about how much there is to do. 

I should use the sleep now, but I will throw the link at you one more time and cross my fingers that we make 75% by Monday!
naamah_darling: Close cropped image of a blonde ponytailed man with a woman pulling a black stocking tightly around his neck. (BDSM)
We're at 53% on Imperial Blood! That's $1,872, and I'd love to hit 2k ASAP!  Thank you to the donors and the folks who have helped signal-boost already!

I have another excerpt for you, from Chapter 9. Something for folks who like boys. Yummy.

Excerpt from Chapter 9

Minaraja dragged Garath to her hidden bedchamber, here within the coiled halls of her rooms that recursed like the hollows of a shell. She flung him down on the floor and stood before him like a poised serpent. Her red eyes glowed like coals in a night fire, and her white face was terrible to see. Garath breathed hard through his mask and bit, feeling the cold of real fear in his chest. It kissed his heart like a traitor and he wanted to spit it away. Here was a woman who not only could do what she wished, but might.

"And I thought you merely an amusing distraction. Something new to play with." She shifted inside her elaborate gown like a snake thinking on shedding her skin. "Now I know you came here for a purpose, and that purpose is bound with that copper whore the Emperor dragged before us."

She came toward him, bent quick and grabbed his mask. He expected her to unfasten the bindings, but instead she ripped the contrivance from his head, the leather biting hard against him before the bindings snapped loose. She left him gasping on the floor, his face wet with his own slaver from the bit and his jaw aching. The ghostly Severre lurked in the doorway, his eyes alight with amusement and a peculiar, hungering want.

"So you came across the ice, to this accursed place at the end of all life," she said, coming to stand over him. "You came for that girl. Why?" She spat the last word as if it were bitter.

Garath thought of a lie, but then put it aside. Why should he lie? He could not placate her with falsehoods, and looking into her bloody eyes he was not certain he could deceive her. She was the true Minaraja - a thousand years old, a creature of the dark and the cold. He remembered her teeth in his neck and shivered. What would he pay for another such bite? What had he already paid for the first?

He took a cold breath. "I followed her from the south because I love her, and no other reason. I would free her from the grasp of the Emperor. I would save her life and her soul both from this darkness." He found he was shaking and did not know why. He had never said aloud that he loved Sibylla, not to anyone. That was what shook him - he had spoken the unutterable.

Minaraja stared at him for a long moment, and then she puffed out a breath like half a hiss and laughed at him. In the doorway Severre laughed as well, and Garath spared a look for him that promised a future reckoning. His sly mockery would not save him forever.

"Love," Minaraja said, as if tasting it. "Love brought you here? Across the dead sea to this place where all hopes die, and die in vain?" She bent down, graceful as a swan. Her cool hand caressed his face, her thumb rubbed his lips. "How silly that love should bring you here, when you do not even know what it is," she said.

"I do know," he said. "I do."

She licked her deadly teeth and shook her head, like a mother shushing an errant child. "No, you know nothing. Nothing." She touched his neck, feeling the pulse-beat, and then placed her hand upon his heart. "You feel a skittering little spark inside you, and you think it is a raging fire. You feel it will consume the world, tear down anything in your path, but you cannot know." She sank down atop him, pinning him down with her weight. "You cannot know."

"I do know," he said, not caring if he angered her. His heart seemed to swell inside him, ready to burst with what he had so long held within. Now he had spoken it, it was a flood like fire on a mountain. "I know love. I love her, and I will let nothing keep me from her. I would die for her, and die gladly. I would take up my sword and fight for her - legions if need be! There is nothing I would not do for her!"

"Shhhhhhhh." Minaraja put two fingers into his mouth and stilled his tongue. "Oh shhhhh. I will spew blood from my lips if I must listen to you more. You are so very young, and pretty to be certain, but you are a child barely weaned. You know nothing at all, least of all how much of what you hold so dear is rot and carrion." She pressed down on him and he grunted, the chains binding his wrists bit against his flesh as their weight settled.

She forced his head back, inexorable, and he felt her breath on his throat, under his chin. His pulse beat harder and he closed his eyes. His cock stirred against her and he was ashamed, tried to shut his mind to how he wanted her teeth on him again.

Minaraja licked his neck and he shivered. "You think you know love," she said. "You think it will burn forever. But fire is mortal, and always fades and dies. It devours all that there is, and then it smothers within itself." Her voice was a whisper that made him twitch. "I thought I knew love, once. I thought it would carry all things before me. But I was young and doltish as you, then. I did not know pain. The pain that breaks you from the inside, the pain that unmakes you. I did not know the cold, that smothers all within its grip. I did not know time."

She nuzzled up under his chin. "Time is the hardest blade, the hand that cannot be stayed. Time will grind down all you love and make it a ruin. Time will break your will and leave you with nothing. Time will eat your heart piece by piece until it is gone and you cannot even remember what it was you held so dear." She breathed on his skin. "Here in the palace of the emperor, there is nothing but time, and cold."

Minaraja rose up and her hand hooked into his collar and dragged him up. Like a straw doll she tossed him onto the bed, effortless. "Love is a lie," she said, coming to stand over him. "Hope is a lie. Here there is only cold and dark waiting for you, and against that there is only blood, and desire." Her hands dug into the front of his jacket and she ripped it open, baring his skin. "I will show you, and I will look in your eyes when your love withers away."

He tried to push away from her but she was on him like a hungry animal. He saw her teeth flash and he had a moment of terror and lust all rushing through him at once before she bent her head and jabbed her fangs into his collarbone. He gasped at the sudden pinprick of pleasure that shot through his blood like lightning. She licked the tiny droplets that welled and then slithered lower, jabbed him again above the nipple on his left breast. Her tongue lapped at him and he hissed through his teeth, writhed helplessly against her.
Ahh.  Boys.

Again, come visit!
  I'm confident this is going to be a pretty amazing book.  It's already hot as hell.  The last Garath chapter really got me.  Minaraja is just horrible, and her evil verbal domination really works for me.  Yessss.
naamah_darling: The waist and hips of a very trim man in lace-up leather pants. Delectable! (Lust)
We're at 42% on Imperial Blood!  We've sold one pony, so if you want the second one, you oughtta err, pony up!  Hurr.

Sargon has posted a snippet of Chapter 4 of Imperial Blood with some forced tattooing, so here it is.

TW, maybe?  Old-fashioned tattoo needles -- the kind that, you know, jab you:

Excerpt from Chapter 4

Barefoot, wrapped in her fur, she followed Narcissa down dark halls.  The stone floor was cold enough for her to leave mist-lined footprints as she passed.  The four guards followed behind, so quiet in their armor it was uncanny, and she glanced behind more than once to make sure they still followed.  She did not trust Narcissa, and the silent guards did not reassure her.  She had no protection here, and she did not delude herself otherwise.

Down a winding stair to a tall door of ornate iron and inlaid gold.  Her guide opened it and passed within, and Sibylla followed, her heart quick as she wondered what she would find.  Her breath frosted the air, sowing little flakes of snow as she entered a room like a small cathedral, tall yet intimate, spare yet ornate.  It was round and narrow, with tall spaces in the walls that should have been windows but were not.

She paused when she saw what stood at the center, not sure for a moment what it was, though its shape was limned with menace in every line.  Beside it was a small pedestal with an array of arcane tools and a black vessel like a wine decanter, small and nested reverentially in a place made for it.  The door closed behind her and Sibylla turned, saw the guards there inside, standing arrayed against the wall.  Their presence in the small room was too much, too close and intimate.  She turned back and saw the thing for what it was: a kind of saltire, such as criminals were bound to for their torture.

Her courage left her then, and she backed away, feeling her mouth go slack and her fingers numb with more than cold.  Narcissa made an impatient face and motioned to the guards.  Sibylla gasped when two of them seized her arms and lifted her off her feet.  The fur fell from her and left her naked, the sudden cold all over like a blow.  She gasped again and then clamped her teeth together with the determination to not scream.

She did scream when they pressed her into the cold metal frame, facedown so her head hung between the upthrust arms.  The cold iron burned against her chest and her belly and she fought them, unable to even make them work to hold her, so much greater was their strength.  They forced her arms up into channels made for them and held her there.  The other two guards came and took her ankles, held her there spread and exposed, shivering under the cold and under their unseen stares.

Narcissa trailed a cool hand down her back and she flinched, biting her lip to keep from losing all control.  The white woman came around before her, tipped her chin up with one strong finger.  "Do not shame yourself, girl.  You are a child of a royal line, and that is why you are not bound, but only held.  It is expected you will comport yourself with dignity."  Very gentle, she gathered Sibylla's hair and draped it over to one side, so her back and neck were shiveringly exposed.

"It is a great honor I do you," Narcissa said, pacing slowly around.  She lifted the small flask from its place and kissed it reverently.  "So few are treated thus, so few deserving," she murmured.  her hand lashed out and caught Sibylla's throat, held her immobile.  "Do not cause me to regret that I have been kind."

Sibylla drew in a shuddering breath, then let it out.  Whatever came, she would remember who she was.  Narcissa released her and she held her head up, tried to be still as the woman busied herself with things Sibylla could not see past the fall of her own hair.  Then a hand forced her head down and she felt something sharp dig into the back of her neck.

It was curious, at first, a small jab, then another, and then an actual warmth bloomed in her skin.  She bit her lip as there was another jab, and then another, more painful.  The warmth grew to a heat, and then a burning.  She hissed through her teeth as she felt trails of it spread through her skin and sink into her flesh.  Narcissa's cool hand snaked around and held her stead as she stippled something unseen against her neck, jabbing here and here, and then here.  The sensations ceased to be distinct, grew into a duller yet deeper pain, still small.

The heat spread through her skin, and she shivered though she tried not to.  Trails of it crept through her flesh like slow-moving fingers.  It was a heat that grew and yet did not sear, not yet.  She felt something different trail down the side of her neck and Narcissa breathed low, dabbed at it with an unseen cloth and Sibylla realized she was bleeding.

"What are you doing?" she said, managing only a whisper, cold in the pit of her belly.

"You belong to the master now," Narcissa said softly, jabbing.  "You must be marked as his."  Another keen stab and Sibylla drew a sharp breath through her teeth.  Narcissa laughed slightly, not warm.  "Does that hurt?"

Sibylla realized they were marking her.  That was the small jabs and the slow burning.  She was being tattooed like them.  "Only a little," she said, holding her voice under tight control.

Narcissa laughed again.  "That will change," she said.  She continued her work, tireless and precise.  Sibylla gasped as the heat seemed to burn down through her body, spreading over her back, down her legs and creeping up her arms.  She shuddered, biting her lips.  The guard holding her right hand shifted his grip and curled his fingers around her hand, let her grip him as tight as she wished.  She wanted to look up at him and could not.  Something was coming, slow and deathly, and he knew it.

I have a big ol' thing for forced tattooing, branding, marking of any kind, what-have-you, so this chapter really did it for me.  Sargon points out that this book contains more erotic elements than most of the others had -- he's a fan of straight-up fucking, but this story is different in pretty much every way, so it builds slower, moves slower.

I am a giant kinky perv, so I am loving the shit out of it.  I don't get enough kink.  We do a little -- Witches' Mark was loaded with it (you're welcome) -- but it's not our thing.  This is hitting a lot of the really good buttons for me.  And maybe the next excerpt he posts will be one of the ones from Garath's point of view, hint hint, because not all of this is femsub.  AHEM.

Anyway, we'd be delighted if you'd head on over to campaign home and help out, or spread the word if you like.  I'd like to hit 50% by Thursday!
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
Even as I was opening the window to make this post, we popped up over 25% on Imperial Blood!  So, now I want to aim for 30%!  ETA: Holy whoa, sold a walk-on!  We're at 29%!  Let's aim for 35%!

I read the chapter Sargon wrote last night and it was ludicrously, stupidly hot.  And this is what I do, so I'm fairly fucking jaded.  Maybe it just mashed my buttons: erotic tattoo scene with bonus sexy creepiness.  So, I'm pretty sure that it's going to rock clean through.

One of the things I like about it is that the big bad vampire is not just a bad boy, but creepy-as-fuck what-even-the-shit otherworldly evil.  Also, he has an enormous snake for a pet, so I'm kind of all over that.  Sargon described it as the most metal vampire story ever, and what with all the freaky quasi-gothic architecture, the snow and ice and cold, the black armor, and just the overall symbolism, I have to agree.

I really hope you'll join us on this one.  We could certainly use the help, and it's going to be really cool.

Thank everyone for the donations so far, and for spreading the word, and for helping out with donations for meds and kitty expenses.  I have the face meds I needed now, and there's also a good chunk of money in the box I use to hold emergency vet money, which there hasn't been for quite some time.

I also wanna remind people that if you want to donate, but don't need a perk, you can click "Contribute Now" and on the next page, right at the top, there's a field where you can enter a donation in any amount.  We don't sneer at people who donate $5 or $1, we appreciate every bit.

A dollar is half a bag of treats for Smooch, which I use to make amends after I clean his gunky face (Persians -- they make eye goop).  If you saw how much he loves them, you would be thoroughly amused.  He opens his wonky little mouth and lets me pop them in like a reverse Pez dispenser.

I caught him snuggling with my stuffed rabbit this morning.  Pictures forthcoming, if I can find the connector cable.

Thank you all.  The weekend is coming.  I hope it brings you fun things and lots of snorting laughter.


naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)

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