Hey guys!
Today I'm spotlighting two for the price of one, lol. I met Nephy a while back through Literotica when she emailed me about The Harvest. We became friends and the rest, as they say, is history! Nephy is also part of the Wednesday Briefers. S.L. Danielson I met when I sent Nighttime Wishes to her publishing company, lol. That's right *grin* she's one of my publishers. She owns Romance First Publishing. How cool is that?
Series
Name:
Upstaged
Book
Name:
Opening Act
Genre:
Young Adult
Authors:
S.L.Danielson and Nephylim
Coming Soon: Nov 9th
Blurb:
Erik is lead singer with The Von, an up
and coming grunge band. He’s a big, brash American with the world at his feet
and is so far in the closet he’s in Narnia. Then along comes snarky Brit, Asher
and turns his world on its head. Well and truly upstaged, can Erik overcome his
fear and is Asher just too damaged to be saved?
Excerpt:
"Dude! What the fuck's wrong with you? You're interrupting
our song!" He pointed behind him to the band members, all of whom had
angry faces. Daisy pursed her lips and shook her head at her brother. Erik was
clearly not happy. "You gonna answer me or what, man?"
Asher blew another bubble and popped it loudly. The big American
jerk was going red in the face. Good. He shrugged then, glancing over Erik's
shoulder at Daisy's face, he sighed. "Maybe if the band was better I
wouldn't be so bored." He blew another, bigger, bubble which popped
with a satisfying bang. If he tried hard maybe he could make him turn purple.
Nah, who wanted to work that hard? He couldn't be bothered. Taking the gum out
of his mouth, he stuck it on the garage wall.
A blond brow went up as Erik crossed his arms tightly
against his chest and harrumphed. "You sayin' something about my band? The
one your own sister’s in?" He shook his head and inched closer to him.
"Maybe, if you can't appreciate our music, you should get your ass outta
here, Dasher. Or is it Ghostboy?" Erik laughed at his own wit but
was disappointed when it didn't seem to shake this guy one iota.
"Just because my sister wants to hang around with a bunch of
losers, doesn't mean they’re any good, only that she has really bad taste."
Erik felt his temper rising; his blood nearly at boiling point.
"Who the hell are you callin' a loser, you... you... emo! You gothic,
whiny weirdo... freak!"
Asher looked around, slowly, and then their eyes locked again.
"I didn't hear anyone whine. But I did hear something squeak. Was it
you, little mouse? If I'd closed my eyes I could have imagined I heard a
creaky old gate up there on the stage, swinging in the breeze."
* * *
Rage now coursed through Erik's veins; his Viking heritage coming
to bear. He balled his fists and snorted, like a bull ready to spear the
matador. Daisy tried to intervene. "Asher! Stop it right now or you'll be
sorry!"
"Not as sorry as this sorry
looking excuse for a singer. More like a fifty year old karaoke singer after a
packet of Woodbines."
"That's it, you asshole! You're goin' down!" Erik
yelled as he threw his full weight behind a huge, pale fist that packed the
wallop of a freight train. He lunged forward to deliver the blow, when a hand
stopped him. He paused, shocked and amazed; was it.... wtf? Who could stop his
fist? Asher had. Somehow this waif had managed to stop him at full throttle...
not an easy feat.
His lips were open, his eyes wide as he took in his fist in
Asher's small hand. Words escaped him as he was lost in the scintillating
beauty of the teen's violet eyes. They were beautiful, haunting and seemed to
hide a deep pain that no one could get near.
Erik paused, his breath taken hostage by the moment. His eyes
blinked, and he was shocked to find another sensation had taken center stage.
He was being kissed! By Asher! He wanted to pull away at first, especially
since they had an audience; yet he didn't. He wanted to stay. The lips were so
soft, and despite the coldness of the ring, it didn't stop him. His demeanor
softened and his fist uncurled in Asher's hand. Other parts of his anatomy made
notice too; though he'd not dare say a word in front of this group.
All too soon, the kiss ended, and Asher pulled away with a loud
smacking sound. Erik stood in silence, his mind in a whirlwind, then he backed
away slowly. His lips opened and closed as he fought for words but,
before he could utter any of them Asher's cool hand patted him on the side of
the face in an almost patronizing manner and, with a cheeky wink he turned and
walked away, calling over his shoulder to his sister.
"I'm off, Dayz. Can't stand the boredom. Give me a ring when
you're ready to be picked up. Try not to die of excitement."
Bios:
~Nephylim
Nephylim was born into a poor mining
family in the South Wales Valleys. Until she was 16, the toilet was at the
bottom of the garden and the bath hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a
stone slab in the pantry and there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen.
They look lovely in a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.
Nephylim has always been a storyteller.
As a child, she’d make up stories for her nieces, nephews and cousin and they’d
explore the imaginary worlds she created, in play.
Later in life, Nephylim became the
storyteller for a re enactment group who travelled widely, giving a taste of
life in the Iron Age. As well as having an opportunity to run around hitting
people with a sword, she had an opportunity to tell stories of all kinds, sometimes
of her own making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was sometimes harsh,
especially from the children, but the reward enormous.
It was here she began to appreciate the
power of stories and the primal need to hear them. In ancient times, the wandering
bard was the only source of news, and the storyteller the heart of the village,
keeping the lore and the magic alive. Although much of the magic has been lost,
the stories still provide a link to the part of us that still wants to believe
that it’s still there, somewhere.
In present times, Nephylim lives in a
terraced house in the valleys with her son and her two cats. Her daughter has
deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close. The part of her that
needs to earn money is a lawyer, but the deepest, and most important part of
her is a storyteller and artist, and always will be.
Nephylim can be found at:
~S.L.
Danielson
S. L. Danielson began writing at the tender age of seven. She knew it was her calling from the moment she put pen to paper. In her teens she began writing alternative works and the genre stuck. She also wove more elaborate tales and finally in her college years began to her new love of male romance into long novels.
She is classically trained in business and accounting, and is currently a graduate student. Her other hobbies including cycling, gaming, and spending time with her husband and two cherished cats.
Contact S. L. at:
ladyauthorsld@gmail.com
She is classically trained in business and accounting, and is currently a graduate student. Her other hobbies including cycling, gaming, and spending time with her husband and two cherished cats.
Contact S. L. at:
ladyauthorsld@gmail.com
