Who is Maureen O. Betita? That mysterious author, who roams the cyber seas, dashing from one adventure to another? Well, she’s a woman who lives along the California coast with her husband, dog, cat and a yard that has reverted to a jungle. Because she spends all her time writing. Well known to those who haunt Facebook – where she is known as Maureen O. Betita Author. Here you will find many lovely seaside pictures and cats. And her dog. And portraits of her many books, her many costumes and adventures.
Places to find Maureen:
You Can’t Choose Your Relatives
Pirates, who doesn’t like pirates? And Kraken, and, of course, the relative of the Kraken – perhaps even the ultimate ancestor – The Old One, Cthulhu.
First made famous by H.P. Lovecraft, Cthulhu waits in the deepest well of the ocean…to rise and devour the souls of men!
BWAH HA HA!
Ahem!
Sorry, I get carried away when I speak of Cthulhu. I have a bit of an Old One collection. Stuffed, mostly. Big, little…some silly, some…well, not so silly. Ever since I debuted the Kraken in my Kraken’s Caribbean Series, from Decadent Publishing, I’ve built a reputation for writing about things with tentacles.
Hence, Lorelei’s Song. No, Lorelei doesn’t have tentacles. She’s got other surprises hidden within her.
Now, Jerrod and Nicholas? Well, they sometimes have tentacles…but that is just part of their heritage…
Nicholas and Jerrod already know that what others consider a normal human experience is far from the insanity of their heritage. Yet, they still have hope for change. The answer to the primal drive that is slowly tearing their humanity away may rest in that opulent hotel preparing to host its first steampunk convention.
Lorelei is bored and well aware of how she appears; a spoiled, rich girl whose sexual tastes run toward the twisted and unpleasant. Looking to cure the discontentment winding through her soul, she arrives at the convention hoping for diversion. Instead, she finds Nicholas and Jerrod.
When the sons of Cthulhu stalk the daughter of a siren, the world shakes.
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His nostrils caught the perfume of something different. Spicy, with a hint of dry driftwood, it wafted by him and he froze. Damn, what the hell was that? A sharp rap on the table made him start. “Fuck.”
“Get up here!” A kick to the calf signaled he was needed.
He rose, rubbing his head, to find Jerrod snatching up a pair of goggles and sliding them on.
“What the hell?”
“My eyes. I can’t—” His kinsman turned his back on the nearly empty room. “I smelled something odd and—”
“Okay, okay. Sit and—”
“Get me the hell out of here!”
Jerrod gripped his arm tightly, head turned so Nicholas could glimpse the shadow of the change on his cheek bones.
Nicholas didn’t think. He wrapped his arms around his cousin and pulled him down to the shadow of the table. He lowered a hand and gripped the steel-rod erection he knew he’d find beneath the loose pants.
He held the rigid cock and whispered, “I smelled her, too. She’s out there. You just have to be stealthy. Be the monster who stalks, blend in. We’ll find her.”
“I…want….”
The hollow echo of the deepest crevasse of the ocean reverberated against his bones in the low voice.
***
These three are really made for each other and don’t worry, it all comes out happy in the end. For them.
BWAH HA HA!
There are worse relatives to have, but I’m not sure who they might be. An ancient god who drives men mad at the sight of him? At least it would be interesting… What about you? What monster of fiction do you think would be a rough relative to have come visit?
Dracula, always snacking on the guests.
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