Saturday, November 03, 2007

Kate's Muse

I know I usually don't post promos on my blog day, but as I'm battling a cold, and Kate's Muse released early, I wanted to blog about it. Not only that, but it was a LOT of fun to write. Really.

Kate is not too happy with her muse. She says some really nasty things and accuses him of things. She's trying to write a story and the hero is NOT cooperating. Neither is her muse. (who she designed the hero after) She's in for a rude awakening when she takes things too far.

Kate's Muse
Author: Michelle Hasker
Artist: Jinger Heaston
ISBN: 978-1-60168-068-6
Genre: Contemporary erotica
Publisher: Aspen Mountain Press
Publication Date: 11/02/2007
Sexual Content: Erotic
Price: $1.99

“You’re fired, damn it!” Kate shouted at the ceiling, slamming her fists on the desk for emphasis. “You’ve done this to me for the last time. I’ll find myself a new muse and to hell with you!”

Kate Sterling tossed her pen across the room and barely restrained herself from making the laptop take the same flying arc. She wanted to make something smash into the wall, needed to break something. Like her damn muse’s neck.

Pushing away from the desk, she spun around on her chair and glared at the potted palm in the corner. Shame it wasn’t a little taller. Though, she did have nine-foot ceilings… That would be high enough to make her muse dangle from a noose with his body jerking as the rope tightened until he couldn’t breathe any more. Or maybe his neck would snap when she pushed him off the stool.

“Damn, stupid muse. I hope you burn in the deepest pits of hell, your screams echoing in your ears as you burn for eternity, never finding peace from the agony of melting flesh and popping muscles and bones.”

“That’s a mite harsh, isn’t it, Kate?”

Kate shrieked and fell off the chair as she turned to look behind her. The man leaning against the wall looked exactly like her wayward muse. The one she’d just been cursing.

“What have I ever done to you, love?”

“Jesus Christ!” Kate scrambled backward as he leaned forward, his face highlighted in the glare of the light. He was her muse in living, breathing flesh. Impossible!

“No. If I remember correctly, you condemned me to burn in hell with Satan.”

“But you…you can’t be real.”

“I’m as real as you want me to be, love.”

If you're interested, I posted a deleted scene on my blog for my Friday Flash Fiction :)

posted by Michelle Hasker at 4:45 pm


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