So… The Walking Dead didn't disappoint. And Chris Hardwick's Talking Dead makes me happy. LOL
Arrow is amping up the action, and true to my word, I did recap the pilot episode over on my Universes Altered blog this week. If I'm not overloaded with deadlines this week, I'll hopefully have the second episode recapped by the weekend. Or, I might hit Bitten and catch up with that one so I can do current recappage.
GAH! So many choices. LOL
Tonight's post is from Whipped Cream and Chocolate Dreams, a fantasy novella that's been so much fun to get started!!
Here's the tagline:
Nita, Deacon, and Callen fall victim to Morpho, the Dream Tender, who plants vivid imagery in their minds while they slumber. When the trio wakes up primed and ready for action, they try to fight the erotic pull, but fail.
And the preview snippet…
Morpho, the Dream Tender, prowled his domain, cursing the damned cupid, Lovecastle. The stupid lovemonger tricked Morpho into making a wager he'd lose… all to show him how 'easy' it could be to hook up otherwise happy mortals in romantic entanglements.
Morpho stopped pacing. "Romance. Bah!" He flung an arm outward. "Hearts and flowers and love songs. What do I know about any of that crap?"
Lovecastle popped into Morpho's dwelling. "My dear chap, who said anything about kitschy tropes? I know I certainly didn't." The cupid rolled his eyes. "You're making this difficult on purpose, aren't you?"
Morpho resisted the urge to strangle his nemesis. "No, I'm not. But I don't have your tricks of the trade. No lust-tinged arrows, not a trace of love dust, and not a drop of whatever it is you use to make your targets go wild for each other."
Lovecastle smirked. "The secret weapon of all premier cupids—Aphrodite's Ambrosia, the aphrodisiac that makes anyone look good, no need for a money back guarantee."
Morpho snorted. "You sound like a used car salesman." He stomped across the room and flopped down on his comfortable chair.
Lovecastle laughed. "You're the one bemoaning their existence. I'm only rubbing your face in it."
Morpho wanted to punch the cupid in the nads. "If you're only here to be a pain in my ass, go away."
Lovecastle shook his head. "Dream Tender, you've got everything you need at your disposal, but you're too stupid to see how easy you could make this."
Morpho quirked a brow. "Really? Care to share?"
The cupid made a tsking sound. "Well, gee, Dream Tender…" He emphasized Morpho's title. "I already did."
A light bulb went off and Morpho cursed his stupidity. Why hadn't he thought of using his realm? He ruled the dreamverse. He didn't need a bag of lame ass tricks.
Lovejoy snickered. "And there it is… all the brain cells finally firing at once." He settled down on the black, leather sofa and kicked his feet up on the onyx-encrusted table. "If I may be so bold as to suggest—"
Morpho shoved the cupid's feet off the table. "Shut it, you wanker. I've already got the perfect dreamscape in mind."
Lovejoy's mouth dropped open. "Wanker? Really?" He snapped his mouth shut and crossed his arms over his chest with a huff.
Morpho sneered. "It's better than dickhead, which was my first choice." He got up and shooed Lovecastle off the sofa. "Now make tracks, cupid, or I'll forget my promise to never give you nightmares again."
Lovecastle shuddered and blipped away, wisely refraining from any parting remarks.
Morpho let a wide smile cross his face. His forte—such a simple solution. And he did have an exact scenario in mind.
Whipped cream and chocolate dreams.
So far, the conversation between Morpho and Lovecastle has been my favorite thing to write. The dialog just jumped from my head to the page—a rare occurrence.
That's it for this week.