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.

Wicked Wednesday – FURY CALLS

FURY CALLS by Caridad Pineiro, Silhouette Nocturne, March 2009Today’s Wicked Wednesday is an excerpt from FURY CALLS, my March Silhouette Nocturne release, but first, just a reminder that you can be be eligible for a drawing to win a CALLING T-shirt, copy of DESIRE CALLS and SOLDIER’S SECRET CHILD if you leave a comment at either of these blogs!

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

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

This scene from FURY CALLS is a flashback to the night that Blake and Meghan meet and which will forever change both their lives! I hope you enjoy it. Also remember that HONOR CALLS, my Nocturne Bite e-novella, is available right now at E-harlequin.com.


He had amazing ice blue eyes and when he smiled, a sexy grin dragged a dimple out on the right side of his handsome face.

She smiled back, picked up her glass of tequila and downed it in one gulp, wincing at the strength of the straight liquor.

Mr. Platinum Punk clearly seemed amused by her as he chuckled and shook his head. The longer strands of hair at the top of his head shifted with the motion. He picked up his empty glass and motioned to it with an index finger. She noticed as he did so that he wore a steel ring with some kind of ornate design on this thumb and some thin black bracelets on his wrist.

He definitely had the whole Bad Boy thing down pat.

She didn’t need any further prompting, determined to live out the dare which had been made earlier in the day. The dare which said that they not only had to visit the hangout, but also hook up with at least one bar denizen before leaving for the night. While she wasn’t into one night stands, a nice makeout session with someone as sexy as the man down at the end of the bar wouldn’t be so bad.

She shoved two fingers into the air and waved them to get the barkeep’s attention. When he brought the shots over, she reached into her jeans, pulled out a twenty and tossed it on the counter. Ignoring her friends’ excited squeals as they realized her intent to fulfill the dare, she sashayed the few feet to the handsome punk, smiling as his gaze drifted down her body to where her hips were encased in snug black jeans, shifted back upward across her breasts and finally settled on her face.

Slipping her ass onto the cracked plastic pad of the empty bar stool beside his, she slammed the shot onto the rough surface of the counter.

“This is what you wanted, right?” she said.

Blake let his gaze slip from her attractive face to linger on her body, admiring all the lush curves beneath the black. Full breasts strained over the edge of the cotton tank top she wore beneath a leather jacket that was a bit too big, almost as if she had borrowed it for the night.

She shifted the glass closer to him and a hint of black lace peeked out from the neckline of the tank top as she said, “Well? Cat got your tongue?”

“No, would be the answer to both of those questions, love.” He pitched the tone of his voice low, striving for that sexy rasp women seemed to find so enticing.

“Brit?” she asked and picked up her shot glass before bringing it to her lush lips and slugging it back. As she had done before, she winced after the drink went down.

“New to this, love?” he teased.

He picked up his own glass and tossed back the drink, the liquor strong and dragging a grimace from him. His preferred beverage — blood — generally went down smoother and had a far different kick.

She chuckled at his reaction and shook her head. “Seems you’re new to this as well.”

The liquor warmed his belly, but not as much as the thought of taking a nip out of her luscious flesh. Scooting to the edge of his bar stool, he leaned toward her, brushed aside her shoulder length hair and whispered in her ear, “Cat definitely doesn’t have my tongue.”

To prove it, he licked the shell of her ear and she couldn’t control the shiver that traveled over her body before she moved away from him.

“Fast aren’t you?” she said, but her words lacked sting and an amused expression slipped across her cute Girl-Next-Door-features before she forced her face back into the disinterested scowl she had worn when he had first noticed her.

“That makes two of us, doesn’t it?”

Wicked Wednesday – Wicked Writer’s Mind

😈 I know you’re expecting a wicked excerpt from something, but I’ve been debating about which book to discuss and decided I wanted to give you some insights from this wicked writer’s mind into the two main characters in the upcoming CALLING books – HONOR CALLS and FURY CALLS.

I think I’ve mentioned that the heroes in FURY CALLS are ones you’ve met before in TEMPTATION CALLS. Blake and Meghan became favorites way back then, so I’m very happy to finish their story, particularly Blake’s. Now, I don’t know about you, but I hate perfect heroes. You know the kind. Look good. Act good. Know the answers to everything.

Boring. I like my heroes to be imperfect with lots of flaws. Heroes who mess up on occasion, but somehow rise above their flaws to become bigger than life.

FURY CALLS by Caridad Pineiro, Silhouette Nocturne, March 2009Blake is one of those kinds of heroes. He comes from a poor upbringing and difficult times. He survived them in the most harsh of ways and has been paying the price for his actions for centuries. When Blake finally acknowledges his own inner strength, he realizes he can be a hero in the true sense of the word. Somehow that transformation is much more rewarding for me as a writer, and I hope you enjoy such changes as a reader.

Michaela from HONOR CALLS is similar in some ways. Different at birth, she has dealt with loss and alienation from an early age. To avoid the pain the world brings, she has shut herself off and embarked on a campaign that honor demands she fulfill. Like Blake, it will take an extreme act of self-awareness to make her more than what she is — a slayer. It will be that self-awareness that will lead her on a new path where the call of her honor may conflict with that of her lover.

Imperfect heroes, Blake and Michaela. You gotta love ’em.

So what do you think about such heroes? As a surprise for you, anyone leaving a comment by midnight EST on Friday will be eligible to win a copy of DESIRE CALLS and a CALLING T-shirt!

Wicked Wednesday – FURY CALLS available March 2009

FURY CALLS by Caridad Pineiro, Silhouette Nocturne, March 2009This Wicked Wednesday treat is a little tidbit from my March 2009 release in THE CALLING Vampire Novels — FURY CALLS.

It’s such a WOO HOO 🙂 for me to be able to say THE CALLING is back and with not only a fury, but with a vengeance (LOL! – VENGEANCE CALLS will be out in 2010). It’s a series of my heart and I’m blessed to be able to continue it.

So after HONOR CALLS in February (a Nocturne Bites novella), you’ll finally get to see the conclusion to Blake and Meghan’s story. Those of you who have been with THE CALLING for awhile may remember their first appearance in TEMPTATION CALLS back in 2005 as well as Blake’s appearance in the free read, DESIRE CALLS.

Now I finally get to give Blake and Meghan their full and complete story and it’s become one of my favorites. I hope it’ll become one of yours as well.

So without further ado, here’s today excerpt from FURY CALLS.


Blake Richards shuffled the empty glass from one hand to the other across the pitted surface of the bar.

The remnants of cheap beef blood clung to the sides of the glass, painting it with thick fingers of red-violet. A vintage libation fresh from one of The Blood Bank’s regular human contributors would have left far less proof of the nature of the grisly beverage.

But then again, maybe it was that no self-respecting vampire would leave behind a drop of something so fine as fresh human blood.

Something so fine which was relatively lacking tonight, Blake thought and glanced around the interior of the bar. In recent weeks there had been a decided decline in the number of vampires frequenting the bar and that had resulted in a slowly decreasing stream of humans seeking the more dangerous fun and games for which the Blood Bank was known in Manhattan’s undead underworld.

Rumor had it that a goodly number of his fellow vamps had begun pairing off with some of the more intrepid humans and taken their business to Otro Mundo, the new hangout that Ryder Latimer and Diego Rivera had opened adjacent to Diego’s art gallery in Soho.

Otro Mundo provided fine dining and the possibility for other adventures in the kinds of decadent surroundings that the two older vampires had experienced over the course of their long lives.

Apparently the two human wanna-bes had struck a chord with a growing contingent of the undead, providing them and their human consorts with such opulence that the Blood Bank no longer held any interest. Not that he would know much about such opulence, he thought, recalling the hungry days of his youth in Wales.

After his father had been killed in a coal mining accident, his family had been forced to live off whatever they could grow on their small plot of land. Not nearly enough for the brood of six. At times his hunger had been so great that he would make a thin soup from whatever greens he could gather in the woods so that he could leave what little food they had for his mother and younger siblings.

Until he had found a way to earn some money. He considered now that starving might have been better.

Shoving those painful recollections away, Blake scoped out the occupants of the bar, needing to satisfy the hunger that the inexpensive beef’s blood had failed to quench.

As his gaze swept over the dance floor, he noticed the attractive blonde moving to the hard beats of the music spewing from the Blood Bank’s stereo system. Foley, the owner of the Blood Bank, was too cheap to hire live musicians.

When she turned in his direction as she danced, her gaze briefly skimmed across his.

He thought he detected a glimmer of interest there and so he rose, added a bit of swagger to his walk as he approached the dance floor. He weaved through the crowd of people gyrating and grinding to the deep bass beat until he was just an arm’s length from the blonde.

No doubt remained about her interest as he came near since she shot a knowing grin his way. He joined her in the dance, her luscious young body plastered to his, sweet firm buttocks caressing his front, but even as he did so, he knew the attractive chit could only fulfill one need — his thirst for blood.

Satisfaction of an emotional kind had eluded him for too long and as for the physical . . .

His recent interlude with vampire elder Stacia had taught him a thing or two about physical satisfaction. Despite how good it had been with the beautiful and powerful elder, it had occurred to him too quickly in the relationship that there was something lacking.

Something he hadn’t experienced since . . .

He drove thoughts of her away as the young woman eased up onto her toes, slipped an arm around his neck and drew his head near. She whispered into his ear, “Would you like to go somewhere more private?”

She inclined her head in the direction of the Blood Bank’s back rooms and he knew just what she wanted — a quick tryst and maybe even some painful play with the toys Foley kept in the rooms for his more daring clientele.

He smiled, slipped his hand into hers and quickly strode toward the vampire guarding the hall to those private back rooms, intending to fulfill the young woman’s needs and his own.

But even as he did so, memories sprang up of the last young blonde he had taken into that area. Of the joy and pain that tryst had brought.

He cursed beneath his breath as all desire fled.

Wicked Wednesday – HONOR CALLS

FURY CALLS by Caridad Pineiro, Silhouette Nocturne, March 2009The next full length book in THE CALLING is FURY CALLS in March 2009, but in February there’s a great new novella that will be available in February — HONOR CALLS. The hero in this novella is someone you’ve met before — Jesus Hernandez, the FBI ADIC who is Diana Reyes’s boss. The heroine is brand new and quite interesting! I’m hoping to do a full length book with these two characters in the future, but for now, I hope you like this excerpt from HONOR CALLS.

Wishing you all the best for the New Year! I’ll be back on Friday as I have guests for New Year’s Day and will likely not be able to post!

Chapter 1

Michaela had been tracking the vampire since she had sensed the thrum of elder power during her scouting mission in Central Park.

He wasn’t the one she sought, but the heightened beat of his power told her he had just killed. Reason enough to track him until she found the right vampire and dispatched him. Then and only then could she leave New York City for a kinder gentler place.

She discovered the elder vamp’s victim just beyond one of the jogging paths. The kill was fresh, the remnants of the elder strong on the female runner who had been tossed into the underbrush like garbage. As she bent to examine the jogger’s body in its shredded clothes, she realized the vampire had not just been content to drain her of blood. The woman had been sexually assaulted as well and in the most brutal of ways – ripped apart by the vampire sating his lust.

Michaela opened her senses to pick up every last scintilla of the elder’s trail, from the metallic taste of the victim’s blood on his breath to the unique wake of energy the immortal left behind.

She reached the southern end of the park and something ahead of her spooked one of the horses attached to a hansom cab waiting along Central Park South. The animal reared up, hooves flailing at the air.

She darted behind the hansom cab as the driver attempted to calm the animal and caught a glimpse of a blurry figure speeding through Grand Army Plaza. As she raced to the fountain in the center of the square, the pulse of undead power beat at her more strongly, signaling that she was getting closer to the ancient vampire.

Another indistinct flash weaving through the scattering of pedestrians on Fifth Avenue confirmed the immortal was within reach.

She focused on that vague shape, keeping a watchful eye and a respectful distance as she chased after him. She could not engage the vampire elder out in the open where either humans or other vampires might see what was happening. To do so might expose her presence in the city and possibly bring down the wrath of the vampire council.

At some point the elder must have sensed that he was being followed.

He increased his speed and movements, weaving in and out of the humans on the sidewalks; climbing up to the rooftop of a building in lower Midtown Manhattan and leaping from one structure to the next before dropping to the ground once again. The vampire moved at an almost frantic pace, as if he knew the nature of her mission.

Michaela kept up her determined pursuit, patiently waiting for the moment when the time would be right. Dodging pedestrians and vehicles as the vampire attempted to elude her. Well aware that she had to act before the immortal reached the safe haven of the Blood Bank.

If he made it there, she would have to pull back and wait for another night. There were too many undead in that place to risk a confrontation within its doors.

Too many and she was just one against them.

She drove back the crush of loneliness that nearly choked her, reminding herself that there could be no other way. Her life was filled with too much death and destruction for any kind of personal commitments.

The few people she had allowed to get close had either ended up dead or run away when they discovered the truth about her existence.

The truth about her.

In Union Square, the vampire geared down to human speed, using that pace to lose himself amongst the many mortals still present in the park. The beat of the humans’ life forces and their scents served to disguise his presence.

Michaela paused at the far edge of the square, examining the walkways. Attempting to set apart the humans from her undead prey, but she was unable to pin down the immortal amongst the many humans in the park. She waited, hopeful that once the elder moved beyond the boundaries of the crowded area, she would be able to pick up his presence once again.

Her wait was futile.

Long minutes passed with no activity that she could discern.

She finally acknowledged that she had been bested by his subterfuge, but that didn’t mean the chase was over.

She knew just where the vampire was likely to go.

If she could beat him there, she still might be able to take him out before he reached the safety of the club.

Hustling at a breakneck speed, she arrived at the mouth of the small cobblestoned street which led to the Blood Bank. At the club’s door was the ever present vampire bouncer and crowd of humans waiting to go within and mingle with both wanna-be and real vampires. Not to mention the occasional shapeshifter or two that was brave enough to cross into bloodsucker territory.

Michaela had never understood the human fascination with the undead. The almost veneration for the amoral creatures who had taken so much from her and others.

Vampires weren’t meant to be idolized, she thought.

They were meant to be exterminated.