Lost in the Borderlands
A Traveler’s Guide (From the forthcoming DMP Guidebook ©Pop Cherry2015)
If you’re reading this, you’re probably wondering what happened after you sat down in that swivel chair at your local tat shop as a happily buzzing drill delivered the first line of ink to your skin. I’m willing to bet you thought the shiny new tribal design your tattooist talked you into was just a configuration of swanky lines that don’t mean anything at all in the grand scheme of things.
You probably figured the ink he used wasn’t at all enchanted in any way, and wouldn’t alter your electromagnetic vibrational matrix then deliver you to a chasm in the planet that you’d have to fight like hell to get out of? It’s not like Magick exists, right? Shifters and necromancers and genetic-altered hybrids like Noxics are just a product of some overworked writer’s imagination. It’s not like there’s a real way to get stuck in the acid-torn world they’re all a part of, is there?
If I might ask, did you by any chance read the last line on the waiver your not-so-trusty tattooist made you sign?
I’m betting you didn’t.
You should have.
Magick does exist, and that overworked writer who penned the tales of the Borderlands? She works for a secret branch of interdimensionalists tracking the wily Dr. Deveaux. Look, don’t be alarmed. We can get you out of this bind, but we’re going to need you to do a few things for us while you’re there. Yes we. We’ll get to all the “who we are” and why we’re helping you once you make it to the Night Train.
Here’s what you’ll need to stick into your memory slots while you navigate your way to said Night Train. You’ll hear some things about that particular rail, but there’s a hidden room in there that will get you out of the acid-torn borderlands if you know where to look (see the attached map if it hasn’t been confiscated, destroyed, or stolen by the wrong sorts…).
Before you get there, get the following through your disoriented head (the confusion of the trip will wear off in an hour or so, hold tight):
Beware the Nymphs
Nymphs sound like cute, fuzzy waifs, scantily clad and nice to look at. Maybe even glittering with sparkling glitter and waving a magical wand, yeah? Not in the Borderlands, okay? Remember that. They’re an infusing species. That means, like Noxics (we’ll get to that), they can and will make you into one of them. And while sex and rock ‘n’ roll are fun for the first few thousand years, we’re willing to bet it gets old after awhile. Steer clear.
Sometimes The Necromancers Are Your Friends
Necs catch a very bad rap, but there’s not a lot to be done about that while the ruling magicians need a scapegoat, so… don’t get caught being “too” friendly with them, or their enemies will probably become your enemies. As you might guess, their enemies are some of the worst. Incidentally, necromancers are usually all-around good people with a healthy does of reverence for the ancestors and those who’ve passed on.
The Noxics Are Always Recruiting
They’re fast, there’s no official cure or immunization for the infection, or any developed, magical death blow, yet. Pack potions. Study your magic guide. If you see them, run. But if you can hide, make it a good spot so you aren’t forced to join their gangly, menacing crew.
The Magicians In The Tower Probably Won’t Help You
These jokers will give you the run around, unless you come from a prestigious magical family or have some sort of genius-level skill they can exploit. Simply put: They’re not your friends. Don’t let them get in your head. DO raid the conference rooms if you wind up visiting the tower. Lots of goodies in there, and they don’t keep inventory on that sector.
Collect As Many Magically Charged Items As You Can
Magic is hard on the Border, so most magicians store it in trinkets. The one who collects the most items, may not “win,” but he or she will have a leg to stand on in the trading boothes, and needed protections if troubles comes sniffing around – and no one robs them of their goods.
Read Dr.Deveaux’s Contracts Carefully
And then, don’t sign them. You might not realize it, but he’s part of the reason you’re in this bind in the first place (more on that later)..
For further guidance, take it from a rogue wolf and an Enforcer who have tons of experience in the Borders (their account’s been “fictionalized” to protect the innocent in ‘BorderLine’, but all the juicy bits and cautionary notes await): http://DarkMoonPack.tumblr.com/
Blurb: In an acid-torn world, the plight of one rogue wolf surviving on the resources he gathers on runs across perilous, rover-infested borders is to live another day and find the ring the deranged Dr. Deveaux has promised a life-altering payment for. Getting caught by the Enforcer’s cronies does not fall into the plans, nor does the betrayal of his own heart as he finds himself pining for the severe Alpha, when he’s put through the remaking process all rogues who’ve left their packs are subjected to.
Now made to identify as the Enforcer’s “Little Wolf,” can Nor finish the job while he’s locked in the compound? Does he even want to? And how does he contend with the feelings Saren Lash stirs in him, when he’s not even sure the region’s commander feels them, too?
An intensely steamy, paranormal, bdsm m/m romance set in the borders of a post-apocalyptic world struggling for hope.
Even love can undo a breaker of men.
When a rogue wolf is dropped to the tiles of Saren Lash’s hall, the alpha Enforcer has no idea how quickly the shifter he intends to break and remold will turn the tables. Can the unyielding Enforcer resist the increasing press of the defiant rogue’s fire and beauty, or will he wind up remaking himself as he attempts to subdue the wild runner?
Nor has no intention of becoming a toy for Tek’s pack, no matter how glacial the Enforcer Lash may be. He’s always lived his life his own way and refuses to change that now. Can he withstand the Enforcer’s impact on his mind during the remaking process? And if he finds himself growing fond of the Enforcer, can he be sure the idea is actually his own?
Excerpt: This would be the first breaking that I secretly feared might break me, as well. I’d never wanted to keep any of the others like I wanted to possess him. If Tek sent part of the pack to come collect him, I knew in my heart that I would stall and do everything in my power to distract from the request.
Such was a forbidden drive for an enforcer.
Completely off of protocol.
Maybe even… unjust. I knew the laws and the purposes for them better than most. Haunted as I was by this sweet rogue’s beauty, I could send him to another hall, another enforcer. Someone who could be trusted to break him properly, so he could be remade and reincorporated into his pack.
Yet, my gaze poured over him like one who’d already been drawn into the binds of a lover.
I found him elegant in his discomfort. Supple and prone. A beautiful nymph of a man.
It spurned me on to make full use of him.
My cock grew uncomfortably tight beneath my robes as I observed him.
“Lower his ties.”
My voice held the steel it was meant to. That was the way of all Enforcers, delegating what was to be done from a firm, seemingly unmovable seat. But, oh, how this man moved me, despite what I was ordered to do to him in obeisance with the law.
The attendants lowered the binds and reaffixed them, quickly stepping away from us, their eyes avoiding me like they clearly read my intentions. I would not waste time wondering whether or not they approved.
I never did.
They had no vote in the matter.
“On your knees, Little Wolf.”
My command was sudden, but Nor obeyed, his gait near-faltering as his knees touched to the hard surface of the exhibition room tiles. He lifted his eyes to me then, and I was instantly lost in them, my balls swollen with desire.
Could he see how he affected me?
I hoped not. I did not know if I would ever be ready for that. Drawing myself up, I recalled the old dictum: Mastery over discomfort.
Especially by the hand who doles it out so consistently.
I realized the ridiculousness of it, the irony of being reduced to this feeling of uncertainty by a mere rogue, a young, foolish wolf, at that.
“Take your prize, Little Wolf.”
I watched his eyes darken hearing my command, understanding my meaning in the instant. His prize, indeed. Leaning in to gently part my robes with an almost instinctual reverence, Nor parted his lush lips in obeisance and flicked my cock with his tongue, wet and soft as it grazed my length, searching at first until finally offering full supplication.
I bit back a hiss when his fevered lips surrounded the crown of my shaft, the sweet heaven of his tongue inching over my length in slow measurement until his mouth closed around me with a masterful draw that I swore made the world disappear from around us.
About the Author: Pop Cherry is a lover of paranormal adventures, magical heroes, and unusual creatures. The ‘Dark Moon Pack: Borderline’ series releasing through LoveLight press slow simmers these elements and draws you into a world of intrigue, apocalyptic power plays, and very special, lost ties that completely redefine its heroes in deeply challenging ways.
Pop Cherry’s unisex (m/m, m/m/f, m/f/m, and m/f) erotic romance books contain very steamy, and sometimes heavily erotic romance content woven into adrenalin-spiking plotlines that focus on adventure, danger, and the triumph that carries its heroes and heroines through it all to the heart-throbbing HEA at each story’s end.