SORI Snippets. Enjoy!

Greetings, One and All.

This week took me by storm and allowed me not the necessary time to elaborate on my soon to be released, “Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity”. Therefore, today I have decided to share mini-excerpts with you in the hopes that it might entice your imagination and prompt you to possibly pick up a copy of “S.O.R.I” which is due for release tomorrow, July 7th, 2017.

Enjoy!

Blurb:

Winter Sensations …

Spring Overtures …

Summer Ruminations …

Fall Inhibitions …

The Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity is four seasons of discovery, lust, love and eroticism. A compilation of short stories that are sure to make you swoon in delight. Through a collection of erotic shorts drenched in whimsical prose, Adonis Mann takes us on a trip through a thrilling and provocative year. Stimulating the reader with stories like “Tyronian Rapture”, “Prismatic Slumber” and “Metamorphoses”, Mr. Mann brings sensual delight to every season. A jewel of an anthology for the LGBTQIA community, Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity is a must read for the lover of Erotica. Covering winter, spring, summer and fall, with one story for every month, Adonis gives you the gift of powerful diction and titillating tales. Come, sink in to SORI.

 

 

 

Excerpt: Wanton Wonderland

The air was cold and damp. The snow seemed to flow from right to left, instead of from top to bottom. The breeze made it so. Tiny, a not so tiny man slowly but surely made his way to the rented log cabin, he’d leased for the weekend for he and his lady love. A curvy girl, by the name of Raquel. This weekend Tiny and Raquel had ventured to try something new. Something they’d never tried before.

Sharing.

Excerpt: Prismatic Slumber

I dream in color. Like a vivid, luminescent prism, everything comes to thriving life, and then there he is with me.

Sleigh bells dangling from the edge of the bed jingle whenever I slide deep inside of his scrumptious cleft.

Silver tinsel, tangled around our feet.

How did it get there? When did we play with it? It doesn’t matter.

Only partially covered by a Santa Claus fleece blanket, our skin touches underneath—intense heat emanating from it. In the background Bobby Helms “Jingle Bell Rock” plays, only loud enough to drown our elate moaning.

Excerpt: Jet Tresses and Snow

Long, black hair that grazed my face as he swayed atop me. It smelled of shampoo and sweat—a sweet combination. His arms wrapped tightly around me, and all I could hear was his breath, my moans and his sighs as he pulsed inside me.

Unable to contain myself, I grabbed a fist full of his hair, tugging it ever so softly—just enough to make him groan in delight. Pulling his head back, my lips and tongue devoured the curvature of his neck, inhaling his scent.

 

 

 

Excerpt: Shy Torrents

Supple, soft skin glided under my fingers. Speckled with downy like hairs which electrified whenever my hand’s heat swept over them. My body heat was a magnet. A magnet which had the power to beckon wantonness and yearning. Shy shivered, unable to contain the reaction. I smirked.

Shy lay there, belly down, arms tucked under his chin and completely undressed. I thought of how much I wanted to take my finger, which traced his form, and insert it directly to his tight opening. I yielded the desire because my biggest wish was to savor this moment. This moment right here.

Excerpt: Metamorphosis

I am a butterfly.

The beauty of life is found in the mundane matters of evolution. Therefore, I am a butterfly.

When I was an egg, the shell kept me from breaking free. It prohibited me from being whom I was meant to be. Yet, there was a miraculous event occurring; I was developing. Readying for the inevitable exodus which was about to transpire.

I suppose the world was not ready for me then. Perhaps, preparing for the spectacular event which was about to unfold.

Excerpt: … and she: The Short Story of Constance McBride

He shared me, my Ronin. Yes, he did. That much is true. Withal, I minded not. I’d learned to appreciate the wonders of two men and I. It was a pleasantry that not all knew of.

Many speculate on my consent of being divvied between two.

So, I ask that you allow me a moment to share my story—my truth.

I am Constance McBride.

I was brought up with hard-handed structure and unwavering beliefs. My father, a Baptist Preacher. My mother, the epitome of a Preacher’s Wife—contrite, obedient and supportive.

I never fit in. I never could.

 

 

 

Excerpt: Timeless Daze; Reimagined

Footprints on golden sand lined the expanse, perfectly positioned, making a lovely pattern down the shore—some being washed away by the waves. The tawny hue of the sun bounced off the waterfront creating currents of various yellow pigments, drenching the entire domain in the same colorant.

It was a sight to behold. A beautiful, wonderful vision. And with all of its wonderment, the one thing that held my attention the most, was the individual making the impressions. His tall, strong fame, blotted out the brilliance of the seascape wherever he stood and created a silhouette of gray.

Excerpt: Mystical Nights

A gust of wind caused the white, sheer curtain on the only window in my room to dance. The light from the new moon permeated the room causing blue-gray rays to cross its expanse. Yet, there she was. A phantom. A phantasm of desire and wantonness. Real and surreal. A combination, though inexplicable, also intoxicating. The way she swayed her hips. The way she used her hands to lift the thick tresses of her hair just enough to allow her figure to come into focus. Black against pale gray. The rhythm of her movement seemed natural yet mystical. A temptress, a jezebel.

Excerpt: Tyronian Rapture

I was captured by my dear Regina’s beauty. Her full lips longed to be licked, while I imagined that her smooth skin and voluptuous curves yearned to be caressed.

From a distance, I basked in her allurement, secretly—watching as she picked the wild flowers from the field in order to prepare a centerpiece for our dinner table for tea. If I could walk through the window ajar as a phantom, then as a phantom I would delight in her existence.

The impasse, my predilection. The penchant to fancy the reprobate. And, whilst my heart and mind remained enthralled by my point of desire, my body lay captive inside of this wretched place.

 

 

Excerpt: Her Seductions

Silence is suffocating. Dense, even. Yet, it is in the silence of the night when my true love comes to me. She whispers in my ear that she loves me, running fingers through my long blonde locks. The effect is a rush which causes my hairs to stand on end and my femininity to pulse with desire.

The arid autumn air squeezes through a tiny sliver in the window ajar. The small attic apartment window, scarcely patulous, does little to cool the ardent vapors of our combines bodies. Nor does it quell our thirst for one another.

Heat rises; silence falls.

Excerpt: He & She

Her reflection was a stranger, always had been. Looking at her mirror image, Yehanna considered that she’d been born with the wrong face. Perhaps the Fates had misrepresented what she was really supposed to look like—gotten it wrong somehow. She was a foreigner to herself, usurped the body of another, or at least that’s what Yehanna told herself on a daily basis.

Grazing her finger across one check in the dimly lit bathroom of a tattered old apartment, which was falling apart at the seams, Yehanna moved her face from left to right, then back again.

Excerpt: Reckless Abandon

Convinced that life had to be grander at some scale, I threw carefulness to the waste side and opted to live life as I would have it, and not as others would impose. What good were people’s opinions anyway? Look where they’d gotten me. Having recently lost my job to a series of unfortunate events, I knew that it was now or never to take the proverbial bull by the horns and do with my life as I wanted. With reckless abandon, I would enthrall my every emotion and thought, not to be withheld by naysayers.

That was it. My mind was made up. Now, if I only knew how to accomplish said feat.

There you have it, my esteemed followers.

To obtain your copy of “Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity” visit:

Thank you again for visiting. And, once more, I am highly grateful for your unending support.

May blessings rain upon you all.

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Wonderful Book Release

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Greetings, and thank you for joining us in the phenomenal yearly celebration, that we call, “Concordant Vibrancy’s Book Release”. Every year, thus far, we’ve had an amazing collection of authors collaborate in narrating their interpretations of that year’s theme question.

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The very first Concordant Vibrancy revolved around the theme of Unity, represented by the element of earth. In that collection we had amazing talents come together to bring us stories like “Butterfly Mask”, “Lester’s Release” and “Coalesce”.

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The 2nd installment of Concordant Vibrancy, called Vitality, was focused the question, “What moves your spirit?” This was embodied by the element of wind. In this remarkable collection we had the combined components of literature and essays, some of which were, “An Ocean of Questions”, “Arvum” and “Letting Inspiration Take The Wheel”.

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Today, we present the 3rd installment of Concordant Vibrancy, called Lustrate, which is exemplified by water.

Blurb:

What embodies the composition of fluidity?

This is the query of the third installment of the Concordant Vibrancy collection, presented by All Authors Publications & Promotions, entitled “Lustrate”.

Nine incredible writers unite—through a combination of poetry, essays, and short stories—to produce unique responses flowing with vitality.

Works include:

Unsui” by Harmony Kent
Exiled” by Carol Cassada
The Satiationship” by Synful Desire
Twin Planets” by Y. Correa
Threes” by Queen of Spades
Luster Lingers” by Adonis Mann
The Boo Thang Convention” by C. Desert Rose
Overcome (Holy Water)” by Beem Weeks
and
The Bunny” by Da’Kharta Rising

You can go out and get your copy today!

With Concordant Vibrancy there is something for everyone.

cooltext225596051439232On Kindle

Or Paperback

Book Release by Y. Correa

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Greetings!

Today we are celebrating the release of the 2nd installment in the Earth 8-8-2 Saga, “Earth 8-8-2: Genesis’ Rebellion“.

To celebrate this release, it’s imperative to share with you the concept of birth of the Saga.

DeepBlueDividerIn 2014 Y. Correa was preparing a concept for the then “soon to be released” Concordant Vibrancy: Unity. Being that Y. Correa is a Multi-genre author, who’s an immense lover of Science Fiction and the theme of that anthology was unity, Y thought to herself, “Wouldn’t it be cool to unify genres and various fictional beings?

Instantly the premise of the Earth 8-8-2 Saga was born. Part Science Fiction, part Paranormal and part Dark Drama, the Earth 8-8-2 Saga encompasses the life of a being which was created to be the Savior of Earth 882’s Mankind. Traversing parallel universes, multiple earths and various lifeforms, the Earth 8-8-2 Saga tells that tale of Genesis, a being which is a hybrid of an 882 Earthling, vampire, goddess and superhuman.

In the first installment, “Earth 8-8-2: The Genesis Project”, Y. Correa lays the foundation for the saga by telling the tale of Genesis’ creation.

In this NEWLY RELEASED installment, “Earth 8-8-2: Genesis’ Rebellion”, Y. Correa further elaborates on Genesis’ enterprise to obtain reprisal.

IMG_0373cooltext182350479929388Chapter 2

The beeping sound which resounded amidst the silence of the scarcely occupied room did nothing to alert anyone, for those there were already at attention. Endeavors such as these were bound to have an audience.

Three sets of eyes peered into the mammoth glass, liquid filled container that housed Project Armageddon (Code Name: Experiment Eight-eight-two-dash-five-point-one); General Townsen’s, Doctor Theodor Belt’s and Acinom Zenit’s. The tank: a matrix created to nourish and sustain Project Armageddon—grow and strengthen it to its fullest capacity.

Acinom pushed a button then flipped a switch on the rotundus supercomputer which covered over half the wall and the sound ceased.

“Acinom,” called Doctor Belt, his voice raised, as though she were in another room, “check his pulse.” Acinom’s eyes shrank to slivers, the disdain of being yelled at pestered her.

“Yes, Doctor.” Acinom reached over, pushing another button which caused a spectacle of waves and numbers to appear on the computer screen in front of them. “Normal, Doctor.” she concluded.

“Good, good.” responded the happy Doctor.

Before any more hoopla could transpire, General Townsen trumped the tangible glee in the room, his voice filled with animosity. “How much longer before Experiment Eight-eight-two-dash-five-point-one is activated?” the dryness in his tone leaving much to be desired. Acinom frowned then squinted; chomping at the bit to put him in his place, although that was not necessarily her place.

Doctor Belt interjected, “Well Commander,” he walked towards the titanic, rectangular, transparent glass cistern which had a wide array of tubes and mechanisms affixed to it, and placed his hand on the glass, as though attempting to touch his creation. “It shouldn’t be much longer.” The gleam in Doctor Belt’s eyes was akin to a maniacal scientist basking in the glory of his creation—mad and euphoric. Doctor Belt pressed his forehead to the glass and shut his eyes, then released a long sigh of gratification.

Inside the immense vessel, attached to innumerable contraptions, floated the inanimate body of being liken to an Earth 8-8-2 man, but not.

General Townsen huffed his satisfaction, turned, pivoting like a soldier about to march, and left the room.

DeepBlueDividerFor a limited time only, you get can get “Earth 8-8-2: The Genesis Project” FREE on Kindle!

But … don’t delay!

GET YOUR COPY OF

“EARTH 8-8-2: GENESIS’ REBELLION”

ON AMAZON TODAY!

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Earth 8-8-2: Genesis’ Rebellion Blog Tour

cooltext182436207808620Greetings Followers!

In recent days I spoke to author Y. Correa about her project entitled, “The Earth 8-8-2 Saga”. At that time I was interested in getting her feedback about the main character, Genesis. I asked her a question and she responded. Here is what she said.

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The Question:

Genesis is a hybrid being who was created from the DNA of 4 various creatures; 882 human, vampire, goddess and superhuman. Why these beings, and what are the sum of her abilities? And, if she is so powerful, what then, are her weaknesses?

The Answer:

Adonis, this is a wonderful question, and I am really happy you asked it.

The purpose of Genesis is to free Earth 882 from the tyranny of its oppressors. Science on Earth 882 is more evolved than our earth, and they have discovered a great many things. Two of them, are the ability to travel within parallel earths, and (thanks to Doctor Frederick Scott) the ability to mix the DNA of various earthlings.

For those who do not know the foundation of The Earth 8-8-2 Saga, each earth has its own type of earthling, not all of them human per se.

With Earth 882’s ability to traverse realms to other earths, its astronauts acquired DNA from several lifeforms. The idea was to unify these lifeforms to create a super-being that they could then train to be their savior. This is done via the feat of an underground military organization called “The Rebellion”.

The result of this experiment is Genesis.

Genesis, however, has unparalleled powers—the strengths of every being that equate her makeup, with none of their weaknesses. Here is a clip from “Earth 8-8-2: The Genesis Project” which speaks a bit on Genesis’ abilities.

Genesis, was a rarity indeed. Elusive and fascinating. She continually baffled her caretakers with her milestones and triumphs. At four months of age, she was as big and intelligent as a four year old child. Every month for Genesis was one human year.

Currently, she demonstrated absolute genius, extraordinary strength, exceptional agility, abysmal speed, as well as maximum supernatural talents. Some of which included, the ability to raise her voice to a volume beyond reason, the power to control natural elements, telepathy, and unfathomable strength.

Of course, Genesis’ powers have matured with age, and in the 2nd installment, we will see more of what she can do. Yet … with all of this, Genesis actually dose have a weakness, albeit not a physical one. Genesis’ weakness is her emotions. She IS, in fact, part human. So human emotions beg to contradict her very essence, that of a GOD among men. Like no other, and more than all.

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WOW! THAT, I must say, is amazing! For those of you whom have not read the first installment of The Earth 8-8-2 Saga, you will be able to get it FREE for a limited time, from Tuesday May 17th, until Saturday May 21st. HOWEVER, do not miss out on the release of book 2, “Earth 8-8-2: Genesis’ Rebellion” coming on on MAY 17TH, 2016.

Here is the trailer.

“WORDPLAY: Therapy Session” by Andrew Boyd

ADS_9880.4Facebook|Twitter|Andrew Boyd, Poet

cooltext176261931433825Andrew Boyd is a student of poetry, blogging, and story telling. Andrew became a self-published author on February 27, 2013. He is one who is honest to where he made people mad, yet they respect and respected what he had, have, and has to say.

A two-time kidney transplant recipient, Andrew is one who looks at the world in a way that gives and gave him perspective as to how his life would be shaped due to his medical experiences, as well as helping others by exuding inspiration and compassion to those around him.

He is a graduate of the Class of 1996 from Germantown-Lankenau Motivational Program Annex, where his writing prowess was born in the 10th Grade, and continued on while attending Arcadia University in 1996. After a writing hiatus in 1997, a trip to New York City in March 2010 reignited his passion for writing. While posting several of his writings on social media outlets, he also performs and performed spoken word poetry in the Philadelphia and New York areas. He is currently performing on Black Poetry Cafe’s (BPC) internet radio show “FEVER FRIDAYS”.

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When the world needs your light, the supply is unlimited. When you need the world’s light, the service is disconnected. Shrouded in darkness, with not even a candle’s flicker to show the way, how does one heal?

Andrew Boyd’s result is to conduct his own Therapy Session. This fifth book in the WORDPLAY poetry series is a chronicle of crepuscules that Andrew has faced throughout his life, some unbeknownst to those who believed knew him best. What he hopes to accomplish through this psychoanalysis is the prescription to understanding, development and sustainable peace.

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cooltext176262017324112 Hate

Sitting on the floor in front of a crowd,
My legs are crossed Indian Style,
Elbows on the knees.
Head bowed down and temperament apparent,
My microphone will melt with what I will say.

Hate is a strong word: never to be taken lightly.
There are many who do not use the word when
Expressing the feelings they have for others.

I Hate the fact that there is suffering,
I Hate the fact that there are immoral people.
I Hate that those who do the most harm are
The ones worshipping under the steeple.

I Hate how they lie to innocent parties.
I Hate that they rage on another.
I Hate how they do not hold themselves accountable
As they break the heart of their mother.

I Hate how people turned their backs to me.
I Hate that they feel they are seen as priority one.
I Hate that patience to them is a waste of time
Yet they look to me to jump the gun.

I Hate how people say that they are by my side,
Yet their actions speak louder than their words.
I Hate the fact that they lied to me that way
To the point where I show them my flock of birds.

I Hate that I trust some people early:
I Hate that part about myself.
There should be many people walking with shirts
That read “Trusting me is bad for your health.”

I Hate this life that I live:
I can only blame myself.
I Hate that I placed myself in these situations:
I Hate that I cannot see my worth and wealth.

To acknowledge that I Hate myself
Tells me personally that I see more than I care to see.
I need to stop hating the reflection in my mirror,
If I am to change things around and about me.

Thank you

*Special Thanks to Monica F. Brown and Yasmin Correa for helping me with all things “WORDPLAY: Therapy Session”, from the inside of the covers to the cover itself*

New Release: “Lilith’s Dominion” by Y. Correa

Greetings Beloveds. 🙂

Today I am sharing my blog with a talent that I am a huge fan of; my exponent, publisher and friend, Y. Correa. She is celebrating the release of her first official vampire romance novelette. In the past she’s done a paranormal sci-fi mashup called “Earth 8-8-2: The Genesis Project” but “Lilith’s Dominion” is her very first paranormal only story. This is a big feat for Y. Correa because she is a connoisseur of mashups. Now, without further ado, I leave you all with the introduction to “Lilith’s Dominion“.

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LD Cover for Kindle

Blurb:

When Lilith fails to comply with the plans of Man and The Creator, she is punished to an existence that costs her the fruits of humanity. Every moment becomes a never ending spin cycle of memories mirroring profound loss, recalcitrant rage, and immeasurable suffering.

During a Halloween party at the Arcadia Chateau, the blue-green eyed brunette Jet leaves an impression which shatters the equilibrium of Lilith’s cloud of darkness. Is this a temporary aggravation or the start of a much needed resurrection—the fire of love in a heart iced with hurt?

div64wyExcerpt:

It is believed that before the Genesis of the human age, Adam had a wife … a first wife; Lilith.

Created from the same ground from which Adam was molded, Lilith proved to be a bit more than his subordinate.

She was his equal.

Legend has it that Lilith was strong willed, independent and unyielding. All of the things that Adam did not want in a wife.

Red hair, sensual curves and red-brown eyes, Lilith was voluptuousness in the form of a woman. Passion, ardent and burning vitality. Lilith considered herself Adam’s compeer in every way—second to none and nothing.

What Adam hated to admit was that Lilith was his weakness, his burning desire, and his fierce, iniquitous poison. As much as he wanted her, he also hated her. It was her authority that continually dominated him, and her lasciviousness that seduced him. He was less of a man when he was around her, yet he also could not feel more empowered.

Adam realized that his obsession with Lilith was a lecherous enthrallment and nothing more, for he could not love her. Neither could he be her master. This was the problem. Adam’s job was to be in control, to be the head. The leader of Lilith and all of their descendants. For this, the Creator had made him.

Yet, around her—Lilith—he was nothing more than a groveling, dribbling, insecure excuse for a man. She had him wrapped around her little finger, and this suited her just fine.

Adam, not so much.

This was not what the Creator had mandated. Not what he intended when making them both. He needed Adam—level headed and trustworthy—to be in charge. However, with the ever present seduction of Lilith, this wouldn’t be possible.

Something must be done.

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The sound of a single long nail clicking against a hardwood table was all that could be heard in the room. Why? Because all of the noise and commotion was in her head.

Voices, memories, flashing thoughts. Chaos! Nothing more and nothing less.

The upsurge of rampant thoughts caused her mouth to slap with thirst—suck her teeth in upheaval. Lilith’s thirst was soon to be quenched, she was certain. She’d already made the preparations. Yet, the riot that was Lilith’s unending trail of assaulting musings would probably never be quelled.

The light of night poked through the monumental stained glass windows. One ray in particular beamed across the room, perpendicular to its point of origin, then ricocheted from a mirror to shine a slender bright stream of yellow-orange light on the table. The thin beacon glowed not too far from where her hand tapped an agitated finger.

The room was enormous and regal, yet devoid of any exuberance. Filled with scarce furnishings—the mammoth hardwood table and the innumerable chairs that surrounded it. Old, decrepit paintings adorned the walls.

The air was stifling, consumed by the scent of mothballs, molded and aged wood.

How did I get here? Lilith’s thought, although in her mind, seemed to echo through the stretch of the empty room.

“Madam, your supper is ready,” squealed Lilith’s faithful attendant, though indubitably pitiful as he was, whilst walking in. The aged, wooden double doors screeched upon his opening them. Then, he closed them, without as much as a glimpse back. His skin had not seen the light of day in so long that it had lost its color. A peculiar shade of tan-gray, wrinkled and rough, was all that remained.

Throughout the years, Demetrius had become an old, dilapidated, fragile corpse of a man—feeble and haggard, yet faithful. Lilith considered that while his situation was different than hers, at least they shared the apathetic hue of their skin color, albeit not her extraordinary good looks.

“Bring it in, Demetrius. Leave it.” replied Lilith as she waved a hand in the air, with little to no regard whatsoever. Completely detached from human emotion and void of fascination. She couldn’t help herself. All her vitality had been lost eons ago.

“Yes, Madam,” responded Demetrius, then nodded his head and bowed out of the room. Seconds later he pulled in a frightened brunette, who was so dismayed that she’d lost all fight and merely shivered and sobbed uncontrollably. Demetrius, grabbed a handful of the girl’s hair and tossed her on the ground in front of Lilith. “Your supper my lady.” he said subserviently, then bowed out of the room once more.

Lilith wasted no time whatsoever and with the blink of an eye had the girl trapped, her fangs sunk into the girl’s main artery. The one located between the thighs—Lilith had long since grown tired of the neck. It was too convenient and she craved a bit of excitement, rare as it was.

Moments later, the girl’s life blood had been drained and all that remained was a naked, pale carcass.

Lilith stood to her feet uneventfully, sighed deeply, dusted her hands and then took a seat once again in her favorite chair.

With that, her mind whirled into its turbulent incongruity yet again.

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Add it to your Goodreads Reading List:

Goodreads-Logo

author photoAbout the Author:

Y. Correa is a literary seductress, luring one in with her talent of Romancing the Words, keeping one hypnotized with dynamic characters, and stimulating one with engaging narrative voices, strong plots, and epic conflicts. Her writes are as complex and as distinct as her person; a delightful combination of eclectic and antiquated. Therefore, the mere mention of fitting into one set genre is laughable. The multi-genre decadence is where she showcases her magnificence.

Some of Y. Correa’s works include Historical Fiction “MarcoAntonio & Amaryllis”, Sci-Fi Mashup “Earth 8-8-2: The Genesis Project”, Sci-Fi Fiction series “A.L.O.M” and short stories such as “Ryan”, “Loving … them!” and “The G. Particle”.

Ms. Correa has also been in several short story anthologies and is the Founder/Creator of All Authors Publications and Promotions whose subsidiaries are:

  • All Authors Magazine
  • All Authors Graphic Design
  • All Authors Publishing House
    and
  • All Authors Certificate of Excellence

 

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There you have it. Now that you’ve savored the talent that is Y. Correa, don’t tarry and pick up a copy of “Lilith’s Dominion” today.

 

Cheers,

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Official Book Release

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Welcome!

Today we are celebrating the official release of “Demoness Enchanted”, Book Two of the Fate’s Endeavor Series.

Blurb:

Normalcy, was not a word recognized by Zita. Her entire life was nothing, if not abnormal. Her family, herself, her entire existence, all of it; unnatural. Yet, to her it was nothing but the truth of her actuality. Such, was her life—making it to her normal, as she knew nothing else. Still, it was what made her whom and what she was … a hybrid!

Roman; a witty, silver tongued young man with an average life. He looked forward to finishing High School and thereafter going on a missionary trip to Brazil. He knew that something special awaited him there. What he didn’t know was exactly how special it was.

Fate’s endeavor is Fate’s design, and Fate’s design is unlike any humanity has ever known.

Demoness Enchanted, the story of two completely different beings and the scheme which destiny has preordained for them.

The Fate’s Endeavor Series, surpassing the emotional fabric of angels and demons and delving into the delicate threads which infuse Fate’s tapestry.

DE Front CoverExcerpt:

I no longer saw any use in keeping track of time—it was nothing to me anymore.

Useless.

In actuality, everything was nothing to me now.

The void that consumed my heart was not an innate part of me. Melancholy was my mind. Malevolence, my spirit. Anger, my breath.

I pondered on how things changed just like that. How one moment in a being’s life could make all things different.

This was my life now.

Zita, the demon.

The children were the only exception to that rule. They were innocent; did not ask to walk the face of this miserable planet. Like me, they’d been pushed into something that was not of their own choosing. They were my only concern now. Some time back, I’d located an abandoned building and made a home for the children and I in it. No one knew we were there, and no one ever would. It was an old, haggard, battered place, but it had four walls and a roof. That was better than beaten, wet boxes. I’d taken care of making it habitable.

My secret had been well kept. I made sure of it.

I toyed with the wicked at my whim. Took the very last cent that they carried in their pockets, then made sure that the deed was completed by their own hands—a deed that I’d prompted them to commit. Their termination.

Perhaps I was wrong. Yet, the people I ended were even more reprehensible than I.

Immediately after my nightly hunt, I’d return to the makeshift home I’d created for us, and take care of them.

They need a mother. I shall be that mother.

I had heard through the grapevine that there would be a missionary group coming to town sometime soon. Little did I realize that it would be so soon. I couldn’t help but wonder what their true intentions were—these missionaries. If I so much as suspected that they had sneaky plans, I’d take care of them myself.

Early morning peeked through the horizon—golden hues of sunshine beamed over the hills and plains of Feijo. The sun made her entrance like a Queen over her people, raising her fanciful scepter, bright and majestic. Roosters announced her arrival, like nature’s heralds, crowing loudly for all of the world to hear.

The richness of the sun’s auspicious rays slowly grazed over the extent of Feijo, little by little turning the purple shades of night into the orange blush of morning.

From within the bounds of the gray, peeling walls, and enormous windows of our large room, I heard giant trucks running down uneven roads. People jargoned loudly and scrambled around to get to their morning rituals. Market owners prepared their kiosks, making them ready for the day’s business. All of the commotion could be heard from within the thin shabby walls of our provisional home, for provisional it was. At least until I had gathered together enough money to give the children something better.

The smell of freshly baked bread came wafting in through the open windows which helped fully awaken me, and in turn, the remnants of the children that still slept.

I could hear a little boy running and yelling down the road, “They’re here! They’re here!” he called euphorically.

Hmm, so they are here, I thought. This will be interesting.

“Josue, go see what’s going on.” I instructed when I saw Josue getting out of bed.

He immediately jumped out of the bed to wash his face, then quickly ran out the door.

“Children; wake up babies,” I said softly as I shook Leilani tenderly. It was a joy to see their innocent eyes opening every morning. Gratitude displayed in the joyous smiled on their faces as they awoke in an actual bed. Although tattered mattresses on the floor, this was better than a cold, damp, ransacked cardboard boxes lined up in dark alleyways.

Anything is better than that.

“Let’s go see what these missionaries are up to.” I said tenderly.

“Okay.” little Leilani grumbled.

“Alright sweetheart,”

“Do you think they will have food?” she asked.

“I hope so baby,”

“Do you think that they will share?” Leilani was so young, so naive. She lost her parents at the hands of a brutal, vicious police officer. She had no family left to care for her. It was Leilani against the world, much like me. I had to protect her. She was only five!

Furthermore, like I had once been, she too was so innocent, so guiltless. She needed someone to care for her. I had no one and I would not let that happen to her. I had to learn the hard way and I would free Leilani from that miserable grief.

“Yes Ani, if they are as nice as all the other children say they are, I think that they will share,” I replied more so for her benefit than mine. “Alright Ani, let’s get you washed up and dressed.”

“Okay.” She dragged, her sweet voice heavy with sleep.

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