Wicked Wednesday – Behind the scenes

FURY CALLS by Caridad Pineiro, March 2009, Silhouette NocturneThis Wicked Wednesday, I’m giving you a behind the scenes look at the characters in FURY CALLS, my March 2009 release from Silhouette Nocturne! Just pop on over to my friends at Fresh Fiction by clicking here or cutting and pasting this link into your browser window: http://freshfiction.com/page.php?id=1602

If you leave a comment on the blog over that Fresh Fiction, you’ll be eligible to win a copy of DESIRE CALLS as well as a CALLING T-shirt.

Also – gearing up here for a week long b’day celebration! Starting on March 9, look for a number of posts with info on where I’ll be guest blogging and how you can win some prizes!!

To Tweet or not to Tweet . . .

Tweet Tweet!To tweet or not to tweet, that is the question. Some of you may be wondering just what a tweet is. A tweet is a post using Twitter.

So now some of you may wondering, What’s Twitter? Wikipedia defines Twitter as “a social networking and micro-blogging service that allows its users to send and read other users’ updates (known as tweets), which are text-based posts of up to 140 characters in length. Updates are displayed on the user’s profile page and delivered to other users who have signed up to receive them. ”

Lots of people are sending tweets. Some believe it is a useful way to promote yourself (see this discussion at Bubblecow) and others do not (see West Pier Words).

I’m undecided, although I’m leaning toward the not. Like Dot at West Pier Words, I’ve gone through the Shelfari, Gather, etc. thing only to find they take up too much time. I do have Myspace and Facebook pages. I’ve found them to be good for letting people know about the books and also, connecting with friends from all over. Same goes for this website and blog. It’s nice to hear from you and it does truly make a difference to me!

As for adding yet another thing to my life – my already crowded and busy life – I think I’ll forego the tweets for right now.

How about you? Do you Twitter? Do you find it for keeping up with friends? For those of you who are published authors, do you like it?

Also, a big thanks to my fellow author Chris Redding for the links to the Twitter discussion. You rock, Chris. You also tweet! LOL!

Wicked Wednesday – HONOR CALLS

HONOR CALLSThe countdown is on for FURY CALLS, the next full length book in THE CALLING Vampire novels, but if you need a fix in the meantime, check out HONOR CALLS, my e-novella Nocturne Bite that’s available now at eharlequin.com.

In HONOR CALLS I’ve brought back a character who may be familiar to some readers – FBI Assistant Director in Charge Jesus Hernandez.

Since DARKNESS CALLS, Jesus has been in the periphery of the stories, advising Diana and her partner during their assignments. Always calm and reserved and functioning by the letter of the law. Honorably discharging his duties until the day he runs into Michaela, a vampire slayer who’s now challenging what Jesus knows to be the right thing to do. What will win out — honor or Michaela’s need for vengeance against the vampires who killed her mother and forever changed Michaela’s existence?

I loved writing about these two and hope to write a full length book in the future. In the meantime, here’s a snippet from HONOR CALLS. This scene happens shortly after Jesus has run into Michaela while she is slaying a vampire.


His physical presence was difficult to ignore. As he shot a glance at her, his dark brown eyes seeming fathomless in the dim light, she hoped he would not prove to be as fascinating as he appeared and tried to dampen her initial interest.

“So you expect me to believe the bouncer was a vampire and that there are other ones here as well?” he said, returning to their earlier conversation. He leaned toward her as he said it and examined the interior of the club.

There were definitely vampires present, she thought, sensing the push of their undead force, but before she got into proving it, she wanted him to buy her a drink. She was low on cash and most men disappeared once they discovered the truth around them.

The truth about her.

Raising her hand, she signaled to a waitress.

As the young woman arrived, Michaela said, “Cuervo shooter.”

Slipping a glance at her companion, she realized he was checking out the waitress, but not in that way. In a vamp way, not that she expected him to pick up on the signs so quickly. She shook her head and he understood, ordered a shooter as well.

The waitress hesitated and Michaela explained. ”You’re new. You’ve got to pay up front.”

He snorted in disbelief, but quickly dug into his pocket, peeled off a twenty from a moderate wad of cash, and tossed the bill on the scarred top of the table, which had obviously seen a great deal of abuse judging from the gouges and scratches in its cheap black formica surface. The waitress immediately scooped up the money and walked away to place their orders.

“Must get nice clientele in here,” he said as he tucked his money away into his pocket. The motion pulled his suit jacket back, exposing the butt of his gun. At an adjacent table, one of the patrons noticed the weapon also and quickly scurried away.

Jesus followed his flight and wondered why the man felt compelled to run. In his line of business, it was an obvious sign of guilt, but in here . . .

He once again peered through the dim interior of the club, checking out the various patrons within and found it amusing that for all their Goth rebelliousness, they were quite uniform in their manner of dress. Lots of black, from the leather and jeans to their hair. Pale faces which made him turn his attention back to his companion.

“You said you’d make me believe,” he reminded just as the waitress came to the table with their drinks.

He watched as the waitress placed the lime, salt shaker and shot of Cuervo on the table. His companion bit into the lime, skipped the salt and then downed the tequila in one gulp before ordering another.

“Thirsty?” he asked as he paid in advance once again.

“Once guys see how things are, most of my dates don’t last beyond the first drink,” she admitted, a self-deprecating tone in her voice as she fidgeted with the empty shot glass, twirling and spinning it on the table top.

“Didn’t realize that buying you a drink made this a date,” he said, perplexed by the self-assurance on the surface that seemed to hide a well of vulnerability beneath.

“Not your usual type, I suspect,” she said and fully faced him.

Not his type? He wondered about that as he sipped at his shot of tequila and studied her. Her dark, nearly black hair fell in choppy layers against her roundish face. Cerulean blue eyes bore an exotic slant and hinted at extreme intelligence while pale, creamy skin appeared to be as soft as satin sheets.

The black leather jacket she wore fit tight against her body, accentuating both her slimness and slightness of stature, but the tank top beneath the jacket exposed the lushness of her curves.

He imagined exploring those curves. Raising that lean strong body up against his and slipping within.

Maybe his type, he thought, fighting back his body’s response especially since now that they were up close, he guessed her to be over a decade younger than his thirty-eight years of age.

“Don’t have a type and I’m not the kind to drink and run,” he offered, taking another sip of the Cuervo to quell the desire awakening within him.

She laughed, the tone of her merriment rich and uninhibited. It occurred to him that it had been a long time since he had allowed himself that kind of freedom, but she clearly was not one to hold back.

It only intrigued him even more, especially as she challenged with, “You may be the kind to run after you see what goes on in here.”

Elegantly raising her hand, she gestured in the direction of the farthest edges of the club close to where they sat. He could make out the shadows of people engaged in various activities in those nearly dark areas.

Leaning close to him, she said in hushed tones, “Look carefully if you dare.”

Her warm breath against the skin at the base of his neck was sweet. He imagined the kiss of that breath elsewhere and decided that it warranted the risk just so she would continue talking to him.

So that he might experience that sweetness elsewhere.

“I dare.”

Guilty Pleasures Monday – Desi Arnaz

This is definitely a blast from the past roused by a discussion I was having with someone the other day. There were some men we thought were attractive as kids and Desi Arnaz was definitely one. I guess I identified with him since he was Cuban, but I also felt bad for him when they made fun of him on I LOVE LUCY.

But, Desi was a handsome man, especially when he was younger. So, here’s a blast from the past, Desi at his Babalu-best.

Wicked Wednesday – Temptation Calls

I think I’ve mentioned that the hero and heroine from FURY CALLS first appeared in TEMPTATION CALLS back in 2005. Since then Blake and Meghan’s story has been brewing in my brain, but for today’s Wicked Wednesday I thought I’d offer you a blast from the past and take you to TEMPTATION CALLS. You may also remember that TEMPTATION CALLS introduced Ricardo, the sexy Santero who was the hero of DEVOTION CALLS.

TEMPTATION CALLS is one of my favorite books in THE CALLING vampuire novels and I hope you enjoyed it as well. For now, here’s an excerpt from the book for your Wicked Wednesday enjoyment.

Also, don’t forget I’ll be blogging at Romance Novel Television from 4 to 6 tonight. Please drop by and leave a comment for a chance to win a prize!


Chapter 1
Spanish Harlem, 2004

As lives went, both of hers had sucked. Still, life went on and on and on, and everyday things still had to be dealt with.

Samantha Turner bore the weight of the heavy bags without complaint. They were filled with groceries for the women and children at her shelter — The Artemis Shelter. She’d struggled to be able to make it a reality and had finally succeeded a few years ago.

Now she was finally doing something positive with this life. The shelter was a resting place; a halfway house where women and their children could heal and find a way out of the abusive relationships in their lives. With her help, many families had already broken the cycle of violence which had cursed Samantha’s existence.

The local Gristedes would have delivered the groceries, but after being trapped indoors all day long, Samantha wanted to go out into the night air. Savor the activity of the city that never slept. Revel in its humanity and prepare for another day of battling its cruelty.

The bags pulled at her arms, not that she minded. Just another half a block and she’d be home. Back at the shelter.

She rounded the corner onto her block and noticed the group lingering on the stoop next to the shelter — a few youths from the neighborhood and two younger children. It was nearly midnight. Too late for them and their hip hop music blaring from the boom box on the railing.

Despite the distance and the dark, Samantha was able to identify who loitered on the stoop: Juan Williams, his little brother and sister, plus an assortment of kids from Juan’s self-made posse. Mrs. Williams worked the late shift at a nearby hospital and Juan was supposed to take care of things when she was gone.

He did anything but, Samantha thought as she quickened her pace so that she could get the younger Williams children inside and in bed where their mother expected them to be. It was the kind of thing they all did for one another in the neighborhood — watching out for each other to try and improve their daily lives.

In the years since Samantha had brought the Artemis Shelter to this part of New York, life had gotten better for this block and that sense of community had slowly spread to the adjacent blocks. Funny that her little point of light came from something darker than most could begin to imagine.

Samantha was halfway down the street when a car came sharply around the corner, tires squealing it car swerved for a moment before the driver could right it. The squeal was not enough to hide the other noises Samantha heard. The lock and load sound of a weapon. The voices urging on the shooter as he stuck himself halfway out the open window of the car as it traveled toward her and the youths on the stoop.

So many in harm’s way. Too many, she thought.

Samantha dropped the bags and in the brief span of a second made a difficult decision. Accelerating beyond human speed, she grabbed the two youngest children and carried them down the stairs to the shelter’s lower level. She shoved them into a far corner of the stairwell before returning to street level to help the others.

The loud pop-pop-pop of gunfire erupted in the night. Bullets flew, striking sparks where they hit brick and stone. Splattering blood and bits of human where they connected with flesh and bone.

The teenagers scurried to get away, their bodies jerking and thrashing about as they failed to avoid the line of fire.

As Samantha reached for one youth, a bullet tore into her upper back and another lower, into her side, the impact of the bullets nearly knocking her over. She kept on moving, carrying the teenager away from the stoop and to the stairwell while the shooter continued to fire.

Then as suddenly as it began, it stopped. The car peeled away with another angry squeal of its tires. Samantha heard the congratulations and rejoicing of its occupants. Anger rose up sharply within her. She left the children and teenager in the stairwell and raced after the car, intent on retribution, the animal within wanting vengeance.

Fun Friday – Happy Valentine’s Day

Click here to visit THE CALLING

This Fun Friday, I’m going to help you get ready for Valentine’s Day! I’m offering this advice from FRIENDS and thank my friend, Rayna Vause, for alerting me to this priceless clip. It’s a long one, so grab a glass of wine and pay close attention – especially all you guys!

Also, don’t forget that today is the last day to comment on these two blogs to be eligible to win some prizes — a CALLING T-shirt and copies of DESIRE CALLS and SOLDIER’S SECRET CHILD!

http://bronzeword.wordpress.com/ – Just mention Caridad sent you on the blog!

TRC Reading Blogpspot – The blog is up so please drop by and leave a comment.