No half naked men, no furry critters...nope, today it's all hard--Stonegar hard. Monday evening Stone Dead releases from Liquid Silver Books, so I thought I'd give you a tiny piece of Etah's rock. Enjoy.
Available 8/2/2010 at Liquid Silver Books
Etah Dane is finally free and she is hell-bent on vengeance.
Cursed by a witch, she spent twenty-five intolerable years locked in her rock hard shell—aware of everything. Etah is Stonegar, a statue created using pieces from mythical Stonehenge. Like all of her kind, she’s proud of her constant state of arousal and her insatiable sexual appetite. One man who mysteriously watched, and sometimes caressed her stony form, set her blood on fire. Etah’s body aches to know him intimately.
Slander Weldon is a sculptor who experiences a frightening and life changing event. He’d unwittingly created a monster. Even his male lover, Grant Rawlins, didn’t believe him. Then he met Etah Dane. Not only does she know the truth, she stirs a latent and uncontrollable desire in him. Slander wants to have Etah—and he wants Grant to watch.
Facing the spot she had emerged from, she formed an O with her lips, and sucked the dust into her living body. Etah watched the sparkling stream of material, making sure she had every last bit. Like a fairy’s dust, she needed it all to remain whole in the form of a person, needed it to return to her statue.
“Come with me.”
“Uh, miss,” Teetering from side to side, eyes barely focused, the bum stared drunkenly up and down her body. “You’re naked.”
“I’ll fix that. Follow me.”
She strode down the street dragging him in her wake. At the store, Etah yanked the door open and stepped in. A lady waiting to be cashed out dropped a loaf of bread and ran past crossing herself. “Whore,” she yelled before disappearing out the door.
Over two hundred pounds of store clerk leered at her from behind the counter licking his lips. “Well now, honey, how can I help you?”
At least he’s clean.
“Give me your shirt.”
“I’m speaking English, I said give me your shirt.” Reaching over, she took hold of a handful of his top and hauled his ass across the counter, dropping him to the floor.
He glared at her, dumbfounded, from his knees. “Lady, you’re crazy.”
“I’m naked, I’m hungry as hell, and I’m not asking again. Shirt. Now.”
He unbuttoned it, shrugged it off his meaty shoulders and handed it over. Etah pulled the soft, warm material on and began to button it up. From his position on the floor, the clerk grabbed her around the knees and tried to take her down.
“You don’t want to do that.” Since he no longer had a top on, she grasped his thick forearms, and pulling him up, she settled his ass on the counter.
“What kind of freak are you? You on drugs or something?”
“I’m not a freak.”
But she was. To humans her kind would always be freaks. Abominations.
Etah was Stonegar, an ancient race of statues with the ability to come alive and take a human form. They were created unknowingly by sculptors who’d over the years ransacked and stole bits and pieces of stone from the site at Stonehenge and incorporated them in the completion process of their stone and statue creations.
Stonehenge was rumored to have mythical powers.
It was true.
There were millions of Gar, even cats and dogs, with hair the color of their creators. Hers was a Dane, big and blond.
One thing all Stonegar had in common was gray eyes.
Often when working with the coarse rasps or rifflers in the end stages of refining the hair or other detailed parts, sculptors cut themselves or an old wound would open allowing blood to seep into their material and from this the statues gained life.
Extraordinarily strong, Gar could best ten or more humans in a fight. They could assume their stony form instantly, preventing any damage to their living bodies. The only way to destroy one was to literally smash it to smithereens and scatter the dust to the four corners of the world.
Her kind had remained hidden for thousands of years because they were peace loving and stayed to themselves. A smile curled her lips at the thought of how many humans reported their precious stone works of art missing each year.
Often made in groups for sculpture gardens, they were also sold or stolen, in groups, so Gar were usually surrounded by family. Etah had two brothers and she knew exactly where one would be.
Once she got her bearings, she was heading for the bitch who cursed them. The first thought in her mind--make sure her family was safe. The second--kill the witch who ensconced them in stone for twenty-five fucking years. And any relatives she had. Make them suffer as Etah had, bound in her statue.
“See the guy over there,” she asked the frowning man she held immobile on the counter. She pointed to the drunk who tried to hide by wedging his slight frame between two soda dispensers. “Whenever he comes in here to piss, you let him. And feed him every day.” Grabbing the beefy clerk’s balls, she gave a hard twist. “That way I don’t have to come back.”
“Oww! I got it, lady.”
“Good.” She ignored the sound of the door swishing open behind her. “I’d really hate to hurt the family jewels.”
“Easy, miss, I think you’ve made your point.”
Etah swept around ready to attack. She met amber pools of light that held a hint of humor. His cheekbones were high in a hauntingly handsome face, and he had the complexion of well used porcelain, soft and creamy. A blue-black ponytail hung over one shoulder to his chest and was tied off with a red ribbon!
Goody, a present just for me.
Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-© J. Hali Steele