Yes, my loves, your naughty Cedric MacKinnon is back after a short respite. The authoress has been monopolizing my time. I've been hard at work (ahem) with her on a short tale about yours truly. It will be released when we go out on tour to promote my latest adventure, Servant of the Goddess. Keep posted for details on how you can get your hot little hands on these stories! Please leave a comment at the end of this post for a chance to win an ecopy of my book, My Fearful Symmetry. Good luck!
Drawing ends 3/31/12 at 11:59 PM EST. Winner to be chosen by random drawing from all commenters at this blog throughout March 2012. Please leave an email where you may be contacted. Your choice of format Kindle, Nook or PDF.
Today, I'm featuring a lovely couple, all the way from the year 2040, Diamond and Keenan. Diamonds are a girl's best friend, as they say, but Cedric appreciates them as well. Do I ever...
CM: Welcome to Sexy Saturday with Cedric! I do hope you’ll share a few spicy tidbits, my darlings. Settle into my hot seat of love. Don’t worry--I never bite unless invited. Please introduce yourself to the readers. Ladies first, of course.
Diamond: I am a hybrid. Half human-half shifter. Yes, my father was a shifter, who mated with a female human. My sister is a lot like me. We are twins after all.
CM: Interesting, my darling Mia is sometimes called the Bird of Prey. I knew there was something really special about you love. And you sir, I must say, are a man to be reckoned with.
Keenan: I am a cloned soldier, built for the SCM. That is the Shifter Counterinsurgency Military formed by General Raul. A madman if you ask me. They say I’m different, not like the other clones. I have a mind of my own. I guess that is what gets me into trouble.
CM: Ah, I understand. That independent streak leads to all sorts of mischief. I could go on for days.
To start us off, why don’t you share a little about your vital statistics with the readers? What makes you such mouth-watering objects of desire?
Diamond: The humans say I’m hot. I guess sexy is what they mean. I have long, lean athletic legs and my lengthy hair cuts across my ample breasts. My shifter half is a golden hawk. I have light skin, blond-gold hair and amber-like eyes. I appear fragile, but have been through a lot.
CM: You are indeed lovely, my dear. Now, let's turn to this impressive gentleman of yours. You must have spent hours in the gym.
Keenan: Trained on base, I’ve developed quite a physique. Muscular arms and legs, a thick squared frame and inviting chest. I don’t mind getting into trouble to help those I love.
CM: An admirable quality. Tell me a little about your relationship—don’t spare any juicy details.
Diamond: Well, I know that Unseen (a hawk hybrid) has had his eyes on me since we were kids, but I’ve fallen in love with someone else. I don’t feel like I belong on this planet, with these humans and neither does he.
Keenan: I met Diamond on a shifter raid. I went with a gang of soldiers and when I spotted her I darted down the alley to catch her. She was fast, and when I caught up to her I just got lost in her beauty. We were trained to believe these shifters were ugly monsters, something to destroy...but I didn’t see any ugliness in her. I understood her. She was not fully human either.
CM: Diamond, how do you differ from other kinds of shifters?
Diamond: My world is ruled by the SCM. I guess Earth could have been a future, but the military runs us now. Fear. Hate. Oppression. That is my world. Humans either despise us or destroy us. But they don’ even understand us. We don’t mean them harm.
I differ from other shifters, because I descend from an ancient alien race from Equeue. I’m an Equeuean. I’m also half human. I know what it is like to be human and alien.
CM: Keenan, what are the drawbacks of this world of the future?
Keenan: Orders. Always lots of military orders shouted into my ear. Kill the shifters. Invade the forest. I don’t get a moment’s peace. The military is my world. This future is dark, sad, and not like anything I expected...because when Diamond bumped into my life everything changed.
CM: Diamond, what are some of the unique challenges that face shifters like you?
Diamond: Well, I’m not shifter and I’m not human, so there is this middle ground between two worlds where I teeter, not fully belonging to either. I can’t understand the language of my ancestors, the shifters and some of them are jealous I can stay in human form indefinitely, because they only have a few hours. At least Keenan gets me.
CM: It sounds a lot like being a vampire in the human world. One is a person, but not quite human anymore. It's wonderful that you found someone to understand you. Keenan, you must also have faced difficulties.
Keenan: Falling in love with a shifter is a challenge in itself. How do you hide the fact that your sworn enemy is your lover? How do you pretend with soldiers who brag about the shifter they just killed? How do you hide your heart?
CM: Are shifters monogamous creatures? What do you look for in the ideal partner?
Diamond: We like to mate with a shifter of a similar animal. Hawks to hawks. Panthers to panthers. Wolves to wolves. Deer to deer. Bears to bears. And yes, we tend to be monogamous. But we always birth twins. This helps our survival.
Keenan: I’m not even sure what monogamous is, was that in the SCM training handbook?
CM: Yes, I seem to have a bit of difficulty understanding the meaning of that word myself, brother. I’ve had my share of tumultuous relationships, but I must admit, I prefer those that present a challenge. Do you like someone who lets you take the lead, or do you like strong-minded lovers?
Diamond: I like strong-minded lovers. Keenan and Unseen are both leaders. Unseen is the leader among the hybrids, being the oldest and Keenan is a leader among the clones, thinking for himself.
Keenan: I was never sure what I liked. I didn’t even know I could feel anything other than what the SCM tried to program me for. Love? I’ve only ever felt that way about one. Her name is Diamond.
CM: What is your idea of the perfect evening out?
Diamond: I would love to fly to the highest trees in the Denali forest and eat mice off a plate on the branches. Perched up high, we could admire the world and stay hidden from SCM.
CM: And I thought my dietary needs were unorthodox. And you, sir?
Keenan: Anywhere off this base would be great. I’m so sick of General Raul’s face.
CM: Supposing the plan is to stay in. All great lovers have their trade secrets. How do you create the perfect romantic atmosphere?
Diamond: Candles in the dark. I see pretty well in the dark anyway. Wink-wink.
Keenan: I’d love to take Diamond away from the city where all the soldiers are. Perhaps Kenai Lake in Alaska (where we all are). A nice boat ride.
CM: Anything else you’d like to share?
The link for our book can be found of the sidebar. This is our author’s Website: http://amiblackwelder.blogspot.com/
Youtube trailer Link
Here is a short excerpt from our book:
Keenan sat with his unit in the troop carrier, taking a break from patrolling the frigid snow capped streets. Tired of browbeating the public, he leaned back and contemplated his military orders. As Keenan played with the new name tag clipped over his pocket, a name yet to be sewn in, he grinned.
Turning to him, Number 15 barked, “Why don’t I have a name yet?”
“You haven’t asked for one. Tell Sergeant Blake you want a name, too.” Number 15 nodded. Changing the subject to thoughts heavy on his mind, Keenan continued, “You know what I don’t get...?”
“What?” Number 15 replied.
“I don’t understand why we never attended school or basic training. Other soldiers I’ve spoken to have, real soldiers.”
“We’re real soldiers, too,” Number 15 defended.
“Then why didn’t we do things the way other Marines have? Why don’t we have families?” Keenan lowered his head.
To his right, the head sergeant, leading this group of five, commented, “You didn’t need school, soldiers. All the information for the English language and military facts from the EIS (Electronic Information Surge) assimilated into your brains while you were still embryos. Dr. Marn attached the device to all of you.”
“So, we know everything you know?” Keenan’s brows arched.
“Not everything,” the sergeant chuckled. “Just what you need to know to perform your operations...and you all are special. Typical Marines don’t go through the intense training program you underwent, with videos, defensive fighting, and extreme physical exercise.”
“We’re special?” Number 15 asked.
“Yes, especially you, Number 15,” the sergeant remarked and Number 15 grinned, but Keenan sensed sarcasm below the sergeant’s words, shades of emotions and meanings that the other clones never perceived. Turning to Keenan, the sergeant ordered him, “Break’s over. Go patrol the area.” With the sergeant gesturing, Keenan stood.
Leaving the relative warmth of the troop carrier to stroll to the end of the block, his breath formed a fog in the early morning cold and he rubbed his gloved hands together, then tugged on the collar of his black uniform. A noise caught his attention and he turned the corner, making his way to the alley. Drawing back, he saw two young women rifling through the garbage and he paused, confused. Looking well fed and taken care of, he wondered who they were...
Before he finished pondering, one of the women fell against the wall, writhing in obvious pain. About to offer assistance, he stopped himself when she turned into a hawk, squawked at the other woman and flew away, clutching her sack.
Keenan froze, his feet one-hundred pounds each. Shifters — the very beings he’d been brainwashed to hate and trained to kill. Watching the second woman, still unaware of his presence, her human skin shined gold under the halogen alley light, and an angelic face fringed with blonde-gold hair. Stunned by her elegant, lean form, he wondered why the videos never portrayed the shifters so beautifully. She could have been the object of any great artist’s painting, of the affections of thousands of men.
But within, a battle waged. Frozen at the sight of her beauty, the sound of Colonel Dray’s voice snapped in his mind.
“Find the shifters. Hunt the shifters. Chase the shifters. Kill the shifters. Who is our enemy!?”
The noise from the room of cloned soldiers rushed over him like a thousand waves, “Shifters, sir!”
Colonel Dray shouted, “What are we going to do?”
The clones responded, “Kill the shifters!”
As the cacophony pounded in his head, Keenan fought with himself, a part not wanting to listen, and he stumbled forward. Her head jerked his way and the most picturesque golden-lit eyes focused on him. Alarm washed over her face and she hurled herself in the opposite direction down the alley. Reacting, he darted for her, directed by the pounding words. Golden species skin flushed her body in panic and her long hair dangled to her waist. Eyes that looked like a sun-drenched sky peeked behind to see if he gained speed. His stride moved like a stallion.
He followed her down one alley and into another, noting that she stayed away from main street where cameras had been positioned. Ahead, the alley divided into two and she took the left road. Keenan sped up, unwilling to lose her, but unsure of what he wanted with her once caught. To kill or to kiss her.
His microphone squawked in his ear.
“Number 13, report!” Captain Lane’s voice barked.
“In pursuit of a female shifter now.”
“Don’t let her get away! I’m sending backup.”
Knowing more soldiers were on their way, Keenan determined to reach her first and sent his feet flying down the alley. Like a protective friend, or lover, he darted and just as she bent to turn a left corner, he leapt, grabbing her shoulder, and swung her around like a rag doll. She scraped her nose against the corner wall before her back knocked into the street, her hands bracing her in the fall. Her palms scraped against the grated road and Keenan’s rough features drew near her. Setting his stone black eyes on her, he saw her flinch as if his touch was as cold as ice. Seeing his reflection in her pupils, he felt drawn to her. Images of lovers, husbands, wives flooded his mind and he remembered real soldiers had families. Raking his fingers through his black crew cut, his well-toned arms flexed.
Keenan leapt on her, wanting to keep her still, safe, away from the approaching SCM. With her female form struggling underneath him, his muscled hand pinned her right shoulder while his other hand threw a punch into the road on the left side of her head, trying to convey an attack to the listening ears at the other end of his ear piece. When the woman winced, he withdrew his left hand, but kept a grip with his right. He’d never touched a woman before, never been this close. He marveled and drew in her scent as goose bumps raced up his back and down his arms. The internal debate continued to rage, with a tensed forehead and concentrated stare, but gazing into the woman’s eyes, emotion overruled logic. With a violent motion, he tore out the microphone from his ear and smashed it under his boot.
The woman kicked and punched, though her frame seemed delicate to Keenan, too fragile to cause any real damage. So, he continued his hold, sure his heart was right. But in underestimating the woman, she threw her leg up and knocked Keenan’s side. In retaliation, Keenan had to grip both her wrists, pin them to the ground, and hold her down with one knee over her chest. He made no attempt to hit her with his electrical rod or fire his rifle, both of which were locked securely on the belt. The woman stared at the electrical prod as if she knew the brutal instrument well, and froze.
“Be…still!” he panted while they wrestled. “I’m not…going to hurt you.”
His intense eyes locked on her as hard as stone in the caramel colored canvas of his face. Keenan’s lashes fluttered and, as he stared into her, for a moment, the coldness in his eyes melted and warmth like the sun rising over a horizon, brushed over her.
He saw her eyes flicker to his name on his pocket. “Keenan. What do you want with me?”
“Yes,” the woman snapped and tilted her head away from his fixed gaze.
“I’m different, too,” Keenan declared and she didn’t respond. She glared at him briefly before looking away again. Her eyes, despite her attempts at harshness, remained soft. He drew closer to her, his lips almost touched hers.
“I am not...human.” The ease of his admission to her surprised him.
She flinched and jerked her head back in his direction. “What do you mean?”
He felt her movements soften underneath him and he loosened his grip, but still held her there.
“I’m not real...like the people on these streets.”
“How can you not be real? You’re right in front of me.”
“I’m a copy. A clone.” He sounded like his identity was a disgusting thing.
“Different,” she echoed and softened her voice.
The man, Keenan, wanted someone to know his plight, to feel his confusion, his pain. Who else could understand, but a shifter? Who else, but a beautiful bird caught between worlds?
“Different.” Keenan repeated as if this word, this identity somehow bonded them beyond human comprehension, in a way thicker than blood. His black stone eyes fixed over her frame and gleaming hair. When he released her, she didn’t run. She remained with her hands braced against the street, sitting beside him.
“What’s your name?” he asked, both puzzled and excited by her actions.
She hesitated before answering. “Diamond.”
Keenan couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful stranger beside him. A mix of adrenaline, fear and comfort confused him. Why had she stayed? For a few minutes, he allowed himself to be vulnerable with his greatest enemy. But the moment disappeared when several hard boots thumped against the sidewalk in approach. Keenan turned his head in one quick jerk and reacted, lifting her off her feet with the slide of his hands under her arms.
“Go! Get out of here! They’ll find you!” Keenan shouted.
Diamond had no words, only motion. Her long, lean legs stretched away from Keenan and the pervasive sound of military boots. As Diamond drew away, she turned her head back to take one last look at the stranger, the enemy, who had consumed her. Then she metamorphosed into a great golden hawk.
Keenan watched with awe as she flew up into the sky, fairly certain she took his heart with her. Just as soon as she vanished, three SCM soldiers marched up to Keenan to assist him in his pursuit of the hybrid, which the military still considered shifters, unaware of the altered DNA patterns that resembled humans. Melissa and Bruce kept that secret hidden.
“Where is the target?” a tall blond soldier demanded.
“She escaped,” Keenan replied.
“Which way did she run?” another soldier asked.
Keenan pointed in the opposite direction. “That way.”
|Author Ami Blackwelder|
I'd like to thank Diamond and Keenan for joining me today! Please leave a comment for them.
If you'd like to be interviewed by Sexy Cedric, or you seek romantic advice please contact the authoress at deniseverrico(at)yahoo.com or message me through Facebook.
Until next time!
Love and dark kisses,