Mystic Monday

Please Welcome...

Crymsyn Hart

Q. Do you have a movie that you must watch every Halloween? What's your favorite scary movie? Do you have a favorite scary character or character type?

A. I don’t have a particular movie that I watch every Halloween only because I watch scary movies most of the time. They are my favorite. The scary movie that tops my list is Poltergeist. I think I watched it dozens of times as a child only because my father wanted me not to be scared of it. Well now I love it. Well if you mean from a movie, my favorite scary character has to be Freddy. Love Nightmare on Elmstreet. In general, I’m a vampire girl.

Q. Do you have any Halloween traditions like decorating your house, having house parties, wearing costumes, etc.?

A. No real traditions. I used to do séances with the job I was at being a medium and all, but I don’t do those anymore. Normally on Halloween I am with friends and we are handing out candy. No need to decorate my house because its pretty much decorated for Halloween all year round.

Q. If you do you dress up for Halloween, what will you be dressed up as this year? What was your all-time most favorite costume that you ever wore? Why?

A. I dress up all the time. But then again I have a pair of custom vampire fangs and a closet full of witchy attire that I wear. I normally don’t try to be anything else, but me and that includes the cloak and the fangs.

Q. Are you superstitious? Do you find yourself knocking on wood or throwing salt over your shoulder? If not one of these two, what is your superstition?

A. I’m superstitious to a point, but I don’t knock on wood or throw salt over my shoulder. I just believe that you have to be careful about what you wish for because in my case I normally end up getting it within reason.

Q. Do you believe in ghosts? If so, have you ever had a ghostly encounter and tell us about it?

A. I definitely believe in ghosts. Being a medium I deal with them every day, but my own personal experiences run from encountering a ghost girl in my house when I was a teenager, to having something pull me across the bed, to hearing my name being called when there was no one home.

Q. Tell us 3 funny or strange things that happened to you, or someone you know, on past Halloweens.

A. Two Halloweens ago my husband and I scared one of our friends to death when hubby popped up from behind a sofa and made her jump when she thought he was outside.

Last year we did a haunted porch with friends of ours and hubby was popping in and out of a coffin. The poor kids were scared to death to go inside.

Not sure on the third thing.

Q. If you could be any paranormal creature, what would it be and why?

A. That is an easy question. I would be a vampire. I have a special place in my heart for them.

Now, let’s get to your writing:

Q. Why the paranormal genre? What was the draw for you?

A. Well I love paranormal because the paranormal has been a part of my life since I was a kid. I’ve always loved ghosts, vampires, and stuff that goes bump in the night. All my life I’ve been reading about vamps in the horror genre and I just graduated into paranormal.

Q. If you could describe your paranormal writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please be creative and look beyond words like vampire, werewolf, etc., and delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

A. Spine- tinglingly hot with fangs

Q. Do you prefer playing tricks on people or bestowing treats? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

A. I like bestowing treats. It shows up in my writing. I prefer to have characters get the goods out of life rather than be tricked all the time. I make them work for the treat, but in the end after going through hardships and trials they get there.

Q. Who decides what creatures you write about, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stirring the cauldron?

A. If I had it my way, vampires all night. But it doesn’t work that way. The muse steps in at times and says time to do something else because I’m tired of neck sucking. Let’s do something else. I get influence most of the time. SO I say it’s 50/50 split until we start fighting over who gets the spoon. Then it can get hairy.

Q. What was the creature that you had the most fun creating and why?

A. The most fun I had was creating Azrael, the angel of death. He shows up randomly in a lot of my stuff. He’s such a great character because he’s a vampire, he’s an angel, and he’s also part demon, but he’s not like any other vampire because the strain he’s from have two personalities. The human and the demon. He is just himself. So he can either give or take life. He’s very complicated.

Q. If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why? Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

A. I would want to meet Kalliope. She is fun and feisty and she seems to get into so much strange trouble. Along with having a naked god for a companion and a breast-obsessed bullfrog she has her hands full.

I would never want to meet Betha. She is the banshee queen from my Raven Saga books who is crazy and can kill you if she screams. She’s not the nicest of my characters not to mention she’s insane.

BLURB:

Tarnished Choices

Two amazing men have told Cassie she must choose. But what a choice she must make. Tristan, a sun kissed perfection with onyx eyes, has wooed Cassie and won her heart.

Daniel, pale as alabaster with blue eyes, has enticed her as well. Now, they want her to choose between them. How can she pick between the two beings she loves? Is she willing to pay the price for her choice, since these are not two ordinary suitors? One is a demon and the other an angel. If she picks one, she looses the other. If she doesn’t decide, her very soul is in jeopardy. Who will Cassie decide on? Is she willing to give up one for the other? Will she choose the angelic or the demonic?

Which one would you choose?

Tarnished Choices

Cassie longs for the touch of her angelic and demonic lovers. She has searched for them for many nights, but their caresses elude her. The longer they are gone, the more her two warring natures are taking over and driving her to seek out other ways to satisfy her hungers. Will she find the two to quench her growing lust, or will others warriors of heaven or hell descend upon her and heed her call?

EXCERPT:

Tarnished Choices

I wanted to kiss him. I desired to know if his lips felt like his hands, baby soft. I needed him to hold me and take away the ache in my heart starting to form because he would not wrap his arms around me. My need for him grew, and I wondered if it was because I had been influenced by the demon and maybe it was now my lot in life to attract angels and then corrupt them. Somehow, I thought it was funny. I was now some kind of Venus fly trap in search of angels to prey upon. And yet, when I gazed into the angel’s dark eyes, I needed to be sure I would not fall under his spell because my heart was already lost. I never believed in love at first sight until I met Daniel. It was easy to blame it on him being a demon and he had put a spell on me, but it was not the case; likewise not in this situation. Love was not an issue with this one. I had already fallen for the angel. My soul recognized him to be my kin, and yet, he was so beautiful I never wanted to look away, and I yearned for him to crush me to his chest and make love to me. Was I being selfish?

“So, I guess this whole mysterious thing, appearing out of nowhere, not telling me your name or why you’re here is a trademark and goes with the entire angel gig? Is it against the rules to kiss a girl, too?”

Tarnished Souls

His fingers trailed down my cheek and traced my lips. “You’re so beautiful. I noticed you were before, but now I see how much the angelic and demonic in you has molded you into another being. So perfect. Why do I see you in another light now? Why do I find you irresistible?”

“Because you’re becoming more human than you ever thought possible. I don’t know how to fix what I did to you. I’m sure there is a way, but—”

His lips covered mine again. He snapped his fingers. Air caressed my naked form. His fingers trailed down my belly. His tongue tasted my nipple and nibbled on it. Warmth and pure light moved through my mind. His thoughts pressed against mine. The lust in him was overpowering. My horns poked out of my forehead, and heat surfaced. I felt the fires of my own lust start to blaze through me. The demon in me knew what to do. My legs wrapped around his, and I was able to break his hold on me. I grabbed his hands in a cold, steel-hard hold and in a second we were falling. I didn’t know where we were going, but I knew the destination was a place I had been before. When we did land, Tristan was beneath me and I had him in restraints. A smile turned up on my lips; I had turned the tables on him.

********

Want to read more? Well, your just going to have to read the book! For a different excerpt, or to read more by Crymsyn, check out her website!!

SUPERNATURAL SUNDAY

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JEN BLUEKISSED KISSES THE MOONLIGHT

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Please help me welcome Jen Bluekissed into the Moonlight! Jen is a recent transplant to the Tennessee area from Iowa and aside from getting lost in a great story, Jen counts other favorite hobbies as word and strategy games.

Jen can be found at the following places on the web:

Ravenous Romance

Erotica Blog

Jen’s Blog

Twitter

Thanks for joining us today, Jen! It’s a pleasure to have you with us and an honor. Now, let’s learn a little bit about you and your books:

1. Do you have a movie that you must watch every Halloween? What's your favorite scary movie? Do you have a favorite scary character or character type?

My favorite scary movie is The Shining. I love psychological thrillers, especially those with a little paranormal twist. Though not a scary movie, I also love Nuns on the Run in which two bank robbers hide in a convent dressed as nuns. The movie I’ve watched most often on Halloween is The Exorcist. I first saw it as a young child, and when I asked my father for reassurance about the whole movie just being make believe, my father’s response freaked me out. He said, “No, people really do become possessed by the devil, so make sure you never do anything to make that happen.”

Did I mention I grew up in a very conservative Catholic home? The Exorcist still freaks me out, though I still love the film.

2. Do you have any Halloween traditions like decorating your house, having house parties, wearing costumes, etc.?

Other than gorging myself on leftover chocolate? I used to own a blonde wig with curls that were nearly five feet long. Other than Halloween, I used to wear the wig at random times while pretending to be Rapunzel. I moved a few years ago, and the wig was eaten by the moving truck. Either that, or my loved ones took it to an unnaturally early death and fibbed to me so I wouldn’t wear it anymore.

3. If you do you dress up for Halloween, what will you be dressed up as this year? What was your all-time most favorite costume that you ever wore? Why?

I’m dressing up as my alter-ego for Halloween. I like painting my lips blue. I also have a dress covered in lips. Jen Bluekissed is my pen name, and she’s a lot of fun when she goes out in public.
My all-time favorite costume for Halloween was the year I dressed up as an old woman. I was a freshman in high school when a friend and I went to St. Vincent de Paul and bought clothes that only the most uncoordinated of all elderly people would ever wear. It’s dark for a reason when we celebrate Halloween, right? I died my hair gray and used a cane. It was good for keeping people away from my goodies.

4. Are you superstitious? Do you find yourself knocking on wood or throwing salt over your shoulder? If not one of these two, what is your superstition?

I’ve never been superstitious. When I studied in Spain, I was surprised to find out that Tuesday the 13th is considered bad luck.

I do believe evil spirits and ghosts exist. My biggest display of superstition regarding them is that I haven’t written about them. I get freaked out when I think about them getting angry with me. I hope to someday gather the courage to go there with my writing.

Vampires, werewolves, polytheistic gods, angels, leprechauns, etc. are all fair game, however.

5. Do you believe in ghosts? If so, have you ever had a ghostly encounter and tell us about it?

Absolutely. I almost have a cemetery in my back yard. I’m originally from Iowa. In Iowa, when selling property, one is required to disclose if there is anyone buried on the property. When I moved to Tennessee, my husband and I were surprised to learn that such disclosures aren’t required. We bought our property without knowing about the cemetery.

It’s around 200 years old and behind a stone wall. The headstones are only visible in winter after the trees have lost their leaves.

Since moving in, the house next door to us has had foundation problems and is cracked and sunk nearly a foot. The neighbors were joking about the ghosts in the cemetery when we first moved in. Within a month, their place was cracked enough that they could see light through their living room wall. I personally believe the spirits in the cemetery are the cause.

Also, when I was in seventh grade, I went into our basement to watch TV while my mom parked the car in our garage and then was going to shovel snow. I was in the basement for only five or ten minutes when I suddenly knew I had to go upstairs. I didn’t know why, and I even dismissed the feeling I had for a minute or two. The feeling grew so intense that I couldn’t stand being in the basement any longer.

When I finally went upstairs, I heard my mother screaming from outside. She accidentally left the car in drive while shoveling the driveway down a slight hill. The car rolled down the driveway and on top of her. She was pinned under the gas tank and ultimately survived. Had I stayed in the basement, I don’t think she would have fared as well.

6. Tell us 3 funny or strange things that happened to you, or someone you know, on past Halloweens.

Full moons seem to be the days when more strange things happen to me. I was once locked out of my house three times on the same day coinciding with a full moon.

During a full moon, working in customer service also produces at lot of interesting customers. I used to work for a life insurance company in a call center, and would get calls from people who claimed the died and wanted to claim on their own life insurance.

I also used to be a teacher, and routinely held parent teacher conferences on Halloween. Some of the kids who were the biggest troublemakers in class would behave like angels on Halloween because their parents were due to see me later in the day.

7. If you could be any paranormal creature, what would it be and why?

I’d be a leprechaun. They live to be old and are rich.

Now, let’s get to your writing:

8. Why the paranormal genre? What was the draw for you?

The draw for me is playing with reality. As long as the rules are consistent within my own work, I can make characters do things and behave in ways that are more interesting. I think to a certain degree that the paranormal genre is an escapist genre. When I’m writing about vampires, spirits, leprechauns, etc., I can forget the routine things that are a drag in real life such as my mortgage and chores.

I also enjoy playing with character’s struggle to be true to themselves or their partners/family/love interests within the paranormal genre. Having extraordinary powers brings a struggle to relate to other characters that crosses into what all of us can relate to: belonging, guarding secrets, and the journey of being the best and truest person we can all be.

9. If you could describe your paranormal writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please be creative and look beyond words like vampire, werewolf, etc., and delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

Unconventional while at the same time fun.

In “Steak Tartare,” which is included in the Women of the Bite Anthology edited by Cecilia Tan, a vampire falls in love with a misfit werewolf. The anthology is published by Ravenous Romance.
In one of my works in progress, the story preceding the nursery rhyme of the Woman who Lived in the Shoe, I tell the how and why of the woman and all the children lived in the shoe. The protagonist falls in love with a Leprechaun who has escaped from a shoe-making sweat shop. He has the ability to make objects large or small at will, so he builds a shoe for them to live in. The ability also explains how leprechauns are effective at hiding their gold. When it is tiny while underground, it is much harder to find.

The protagonist also is named after the Aztec god of sexual power. When she accidentally takes someone else’s fertility medication, her husband shrinks the babies within her womb and then makes them normal size after they’re born.

10. Do you prefer playing tricks on people or bestowing treats? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

I’m pretty gullible. My characters get themselves into strange situations and are tricked easily.

11. Who decides what creatures you write about, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stirring the cauldron?

I make all the decisions, though the characters in my head won’t shut up until I let them have their say. Characters are persistent and good at nagging me.

12. What was the creature that you had the most fun creating and why?

I’m currently working on a fantasy series in which there are several races of shape shifters, polytheistic gods who show up quite often, and two different sects of priests who call upon the gods to mess with the other characters in their world.

The reason this one is the most fun is that my protagonist has to face the truth that she isn’t who she has been raised to believe she was. I like works in which characters struggle over identity issues.

13. If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why? Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

I’d love to meet Itzli, the Chantico priest, from my work in progress because he is wise but very flawed. He calls upon various deities, and helps shape the heirs to the emperor’s throne. He also is in love with the emperor’s wife, so he’s in an impossible situation.

I’d never want to meet the Prince Raya from this same series. He’s got too much ego for me to avoid strangling him if I met him in real life.

BLURB:

The seductive power of the vampire meets female energy in Women of the Bite. These eleven stories of eternal love, dark avenging angels, and the eroticism of blood lust explore the female vampire and her sisters from all angles.

A young gypsy girl is saved from marauders by a mysterious spirit, but what price will be exacted for her rescue? Her blood, or her heart?

A young vampire runs into trouble in the New World and finds herself seeking the protection of her maker's wings back in Europe. Had her mistress always known she would return to the nest?

Silent film actress Theda Bara was known the world over as "The Vamp," but what happened when she was called upon to judge a beauty pageant of vampiresses from around the world?
What happens when a vampire and a werewolf are matched up by an online dating service? They both love steak tartare, but do they have enough in common beyond their mutual lust to find love as well?

Sink your teeth into these and many other stories of the lust and love of lesbian vampires.

Ebook ISBN 978-1-60777-196-8 (Available at www.ravenousromance.com)
Paperback ISBN-: 978-1593501587. The paperback edition is available from Alyson books. Read more at http://www.alyson.com/9781593501587.html

EXCERPT from “Steak Tartare” in the Women of the Bite Anthology edited by Cecilia Tan:

When filling out the online form for the matchmaking service, I knew I was in trouble when I saw the third question. The age category only had two spaces for numbers. I couldn’t type in that I was one thousand fourteen years old, nor could I shorten it and write that I was fourteen. If I hadn’t already paid the exorbitant fee, I would have bailed out then and there. As it was, however, I didn’t want to waste my money. I answered by typing “NA.” At least it didn’t give me an error message for typing letters instead of numbers. The form was more user friendly than some job applications I had filled out in the past.

I wanted to be honest during the process; I wanted love rather than just a convenient neck to sip. After living for centuries alone, I longed for someone to love. The multiple choice questions for the next hundred pages or so went something like this for answers. “A) Answer that doesn’t remotely fit. B) Answer that might have been applicable over a thousand years ago before I was bitten and hence made undead. C) Answer that I was tempted to select so that I would seem like a normal, human date seeker. D) Answer that only applied to straight people. E) None of the above.

Starlight Saturday

YA Author Spotlight Presents...

Megan Crewe!!!

Imagine if you were like Allison Dubois (Medium) or Melinda Gordon(Ghost Whisperer) and could not only see ghosts and talk to them, but unlike with Allison and Melinda, your ghosts never went away.  Yeah, see, Allison and Melinda do things to help ghosts move on.  But what if that didn't happen?  What if, everyday you went to school or work, you saw the same ghosts and they were just itching to tell you all the office gossip you could handle and then some?  Would you listen?  

Well, in Give Up the Ghost, high school student Cassie, faced just such a dilemma.  However, because of the fact that practically the entire school teased her and spread false rumors about her, her decision was easy.  She listened and used what she learned to essentially blackmail the rest of the students into silence.  They had no way to know how she knew what she knew.  Or did they?  

Cassie finally had the dirt that would settle an old score for her and even the scales, but in her pursuit of personal justice, she finds a disturbing, anonymous note in her locker:
"I know how you know.  Meet me at the basketball courts, final bell, this afternoon."

But the note isn't as anonymous as the culprit thinks because one of Cassie's ghostly friends saw him and told Cassie who he was.  So, what does he want?  Will he expose her? 

You'll have to read on to find out.  In the mean time, let's get to the interview.

Let’s start with some trivia about you:

Q. Do you have a movie that you must watch every Halloween? What's your favorite scary movie? Do you have a favorite scary character or character type?

A. I like to watch a different scary movie each Halloween—variety is fun! I think my favorite scary movie is Wait Until Dark. It’s an oldie, but so chilling and creepy. I prefer psychological suspense over gore, so I like villains who mess with their victims’ heads rather than hacking them up.

Q. Do you have any Halloween traditions like decorating your house, having house parties, wearing costumes, etc.?

A. At my parents’ house, we’d always carve a jack-o-lantern and hand out candy, of course. Since then I’ve lived in apartments where we don’t get trick-or-treaters, but when I have a house of my own, I’m looking forward to decorating it and maybe getting dressed up, too!

Q. If you do you dress up for Halloween, what will you be dressed up as this year? What was your all-time most favorite costume that you ever wore? Why?

A. These days I don’t usually get dressed up. My favorite costume as a kid was a bat costume my mom made for me when I was eleven. I had cloth wings that stretched my back to my hands so I could flap them like actual wings. I thought it was very cool because I’d never seen anyone dress up as a bat before. J

Q. Are you superstitious? Do you find yourself knocking on wood or throwing salt over your shoulder? If not one of these two, what is your superstition?

A. I’m a little superstitious. If I spill salt I’ll usually toss a pinch over my shoulder. Little things like that. I don’t actually think that it accomplishes anything but better to be safe than sorry!

Q. Do you believe in ghosts? If so, have you ever had a ghostly encounter and tell us about it?

A. I’m on the fence when it comes to ghosts. I think it’s possible that they exist, but not having ever seen one myself, I’m not convinced they definitely do.

Q. Tell us 3 funny or strange things that happened to you, or someone you know, on past Halloweens.

A. They used to set up a haunted house in the gym at my school. One time I got lost in it—I took a wrong turn and ended up in part that wasn’t really part of the “house”—but it was actually scarier than the haunted house itself because I didn’t know where to go!

One year I went trick-or-treating with a friend. As we were walking up to one house I saw a man slumped in a chair near the door, done up to look like he was just a decoration. But I could tell it was a real person. I didn’t say anything to my friend, though, and when he jumped up, she jumped even higher! We laughed for a long time after.

I go trick-or-treating with the kids I work with most years now. They have autism, so they’re not always interested in the same things most kids are. Our biggest challenge is keeping them at the doorway, not heading on into the house. The one boy is far more interested in checking out people’s ceiling fans than getting candy!

Q. If you could be any paranormal creature, what would it be and why?

A. Probably a faerie. I like the idea of being able to do magic, and possibly having access to other worlds. It could be fun being some sort of shape shifter, too, but that always seems to come with a lot of problems as well.

Now, let’s get to your writing:

Q. Why the paranormal genre? What was the draw for you?

A. I’ve always liked exploring what might happen if things we think aren’t real really existed. How people would react when faced with something like ghosts. It brings out a side of people you might not otherwise see. And it’s exciting pushing characters out of their comfort zone.

Q. If you could describe your paranormal writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please be creative and look beyond words like vampire, werewolf, etc., and delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

A. The unreal can still be true.

Q. Do you prefer playing tricks on people or bestowing treats? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

A. I like to trick people and then give them a treat to make up for it! ;) And I think that does show in my writing. I put characters in painful or difficult situations, but I always give them some hope and happiness by the end.

Q. Who decides what creatures you write about, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stirring the cauldron?

A. I think of my inspiration as being a part of me. And it’s a joint process. Certain ideas just grab me more on an unconscious level (which I guess is the muse part). But I also make practical choices based on what I think would make an engaging story and what’s already been done.

Q. What was the creature that you had the most fun creating and why?

A. My ghosts were a lot of fun. Both because they each had such individual and quirky personalities, and because I got to make up rules for how they would behave, how their memory worked, the scent they’d leave behind.

Q. If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why? Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

A. I’d like to meet my main character, Cass. I think it’d do her a lot of good to have someone who understands her situation completely to talk to, and she’s got a great sense of humor. I wouldn’t want to meet Matti—he’s vindictive and narrow-minded, and I can’t imagine I’d enjoy talking with him at all.

BLURB:

Cass McKenna much prefers the company of ghosts over "breathers." Ghosts are uncomplicated and dependable, and they know the dirt on everybody... and Cass loves dirt. She's on a mission to expose the dirty secrets of the poseurs in her school.

But when the vice president of the student council discovers her secret, Cass's whole scheme hangs in the balance. Tim wants her to help him contact his recently deceased mother, and Cass reluctantly agrees.

As Cass becomes increasingly entwined in Tim's life, she's surprised to realize he's not so bad--and he needs help more desperately than anyone else suspects. Maybe it's time to give the living another chance...


EXCERPT:

You would think it'd be easy to get along with a person after she's dead. Not Paige. She took her big sister duties very seriously. It'd been four years since she drowned, and she still got on my case.

"You're not really wearing those to school," she said, perched in the air just above the wrought-iron headboard of my bed, her ankles crossed and tipped to the side. It was the way she used to sit at the dinner table, way back when--pretending to be hooked on Dad's every word while her mind wandered off to choicer topics. Except these days she did it without a chair.

"What's wrong with them?" I asked, zipping up my jeans. She was wearing jeans, too. Of course, her jeans were tight, low cut capris. Mine were big and baggy. I'd stepped on the hems so many times they were as thready as my violet carpet, but hey, they were comfortable.

Paige wrinkled her pert nose and shook her head. Very few things got her as worked up as my untapped fashion potential. Most of the time she had this faded tissue-paper look, so filmy I could see right through her. Get her interested, though, and she brightened up like a Chinese lantern. Right then, she was beaming from her bleached-blond hair to her strappy sandals.

A few years ago it would have pissed me off. These days, I was used to it. It was like a game: how bossy could she get, how bratty could I get. Playing at being normal.

"Don't you ever look at yourself, Cassie?" Paige said. "You've got nicer stuff in your closet. It's like you want to be a slob."

"There are more important things than clothes, you know."

"You could at least brush your hair. Please."

I stuck out my lip to blow my bangs away from my eyes, and grinned. "All right, if it's so important to you."

I found my brush in the heap of comic books, dirty dishes, and loose change on top of my dresser and tugged it through the mud-brown mess of my hair. Paige drifted over, her hand grazing my head with a faint tingle. The smell of candied apples and cinnamon wisped from her fingers.

"You could be pretty, Cassie," she murmured. "You've got an okay figure, if you dressed to show it off... A little make-up--I bet your eyes could look really green if you did it right, and a new hair cut..."

"Why bother?"

Paige groaned. "You want to have friends, don't you? People care about that stuff. You look nice, they're nice to you. You look like a mess, they're laughing about it behind your back."

My smile died. I yanked the brush through a knot, wincing. From what I'd seen, looking nice didn't stop people from making fun of you. I'd dressed pretty decent back in junior high, and it sure as hell hadn't helped me.

But that was ancient history. The kids at Frazer Collegiate weren't laughing at me now. And I had enough dirt on all of them to make sure it stayed that way.

PHANTASM FRIDAY

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GRACEN'S FREAKY FRIDAY IN THE MOONLIGHT

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We've asked the same questions to all our bloggers this month and I thought it'd be fun to answer the same questions. I didn't realize how tough some of them were until I tried to answer them. Yikes! LOL So, here goes....

1. Do you have a movie that you must watch every Halloween? What's your favorite scary movie? Do you have a favorite scary character or character type?

Scary movies are a year round event for me, but I especially love that Halloween brings out fright fest television. I’m a scream queen, love everything horror related, but I’m a tough critic. It takes a lot to entertain me. Jason doesn’t do it for me. Where’s the horror in watching anorexic chicks run from a masked lumberjack that is “walking” and not running after them? Horror movies like that drive me nuts.

Give me Saw, The Shining, Hell Raiser, 28 Weeks Later, or even Resident Evil any day of the week over the slasher flicks. Although, I have to admit I was mildly impressed with My Bloody Valentine 3D, but maybe that was only because Jensen Ackles shined up the screen in it. LOL

What I think of as yawner horror movies, terrify most of my friends. I went to the theaters to see 30 Days of Night, the one with Josh Hartnett and the bloodthirsty vampires that visit the Alaskan town. I spent the 113 minutes of runtime thinking, “This was supposed to scare me?” I was sooooo disappointed because I wanted to be frightened, since not much manages to frighten me. *major sigh* But my girlfriend that I dragged with me watched 30 Days of Night from between her fingers, jumping nearly out of her seat with tiny terrified screams as the movie progressed. LOL I felt like such a bad friend for enticing her to come along with the lure of a free movie and popcorn.

2. Do you have any Halloween traditions like decorating your house, having house parties, wearing costumes, etc.?

I’m boring when it comes to Halloween. I decorate my sofa table with what I call “The Village of the Damned”. It’s like Christmas houses, but Halloween themed. They make wicked, ghoulish noises that drive my husband crazy, but my boys and I love them. I also dress my black and tan weenie dog (Dachshund) in a witch’s hat and an orange scarf with witches flying on it. She hates it and hates me for it. But once I offer to let her trick or treat with us, I’m forgiven. LOL

3. If you do you dress up for Halloween, what will you be dressed up as this year? What was your all-time most favorite costume that you ever wore? Why?

Unfortunately, no, I don’t dress up for Halloween any more. I do wear spider rings, paint my nails black and wear a Halloween vest, but that’s not really dressing up, but me just being me. I let my boys do all the dressing up and have fun helping them come up with unique costumes. Last year my eldest son was Dean Winchester from the TV series Supernatural. It was an easy costume, but damn difficult getting people to understand who he was. LOL

4. Are you superstitious? Do you find yourself knocking on wood or throwing salt over your shoulder? If not one of these two, what is your superstition?

No, not really, but therein lies the conundrum. I don’t consider myself superstitious, but I do believe in some superstitions, such as, “bad things happen in threes”—or here lately in fives and sixes instead of threes. That belief has been proven too many times for me to discount. I don’t believe in knocking on wood, even though I can be caught doing it. I don’t believe black cats, walking under ladders, or breaking mirrors bring bad luck. Neither do I believe in throwing salt over my shoulder. I have caught my husband throwing salt over my shoulder for me. :-/ For a man that doesn’t believe in the supernatural, he is very superstitious.

5. Do you believe in ghosts? If so, have you ever had a ghostly encounter and tell us about it?

Ghosts! Hell, yes, I believe in them! But contrary to popular belief, they don't just go bump in the night at my house. I’ve had many ghostly encounters, none of which are ever centered around one place or one event. Paranormal central – that’s my life.

I’ve seen my great-grandfather at my dad’s house with my stepmother in the form of a white t-shirt. The only visible part of this apparition was the white t-shirt. There was no arms, no legs, no head, absolutely nothing. Mostly I simply sense that there is another unseen presence about. I’ve watched doors open, balls of white light appear and disappear, I’ve felt the cold chill of prickles skimming my skin and knowing without a doubt that someone was watching me when I was completely alone. I have never felt the so-called “cold spots” off the ghost hunting shows. I have ghosts come to me in my dreams...a lot, way more than I would like. The last girl that came was beautiful and young, but I sent her away, refusing to listen to anything she had to say because she was disturbing my sleep. I felt terribly guilty the next morning and I still wonder what she wanted to tell me. But if I don’t send them away, they interrupt my sleep and I don’t get any rest.

My dog and I both have seen a presence recently. When I asked who she was, I got the visual of a young girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen, with dark chin-length hair and she was very, very skinny. I got the sense that she had been sick, but that she was happy now. My dog was certainly happy to see her. I still wonder if this was the person I met online that died of cancer at the young age of eighteen, but I’ll never know for sure.

I think this ability has been passed to my oldest son. As a small child he would see people that weren’t there. One night, he was standing at our bay window overlooking our driveway and asked if “they” could come in and play. I was thinking maybe someone was outside, so I went to the window and peered out. No one. When I told him no one was there, he proceeded to point and tell me that they were right there, “a black man and a white mine.” They wanted to come in and play with him. I wanted to say “hell, no!” Instead, I calmly told him that they were not allowed to come in and play. My logical thinking was that maybe they were similar to vampire mythology and couldn’t come into my home without an express invitation. No way was I expressly inviting them into the home. That was only one of several incidents with my son. He saw people all the time. He told an invisible man to get out of our apartment repeatedly; I believe that same invisible man pushed him out of bed once. That apartment had the creepiest feel to it, with a distinct hostile undertone.

He had imaginary friends and dogs that he named. The imaginary friends were with him all the time. He conversed with them as if they were real people and he relayed detailed conversations he had with them. They would ride in the car with us, eat at the table with us, sit on the couch and sleep in our beds. Sometimes I thought enough was enough. One time I was scolding my son and he told me that his imaginary friend, who was named Jacob Trent, said he didn’t like me very much some days. I told him that his friend Jacob Trent was welcome to go home if he didn’t approve of me. I laughed about it later, of course, because my son was dead serious. Now, if you haven’t figured it out already, I am one of those people that strongly believes “imaginary friends” are either ghosts or spirits of some sort. Friends tell me this is the sign of an overactive imagination. Maybe, I don’t know, but I do know for someone so young, his detailed conversations were startling.

Scariest of all, there was a week out of the blue that my son would cry about going up to his bedroom because he was scared of the man in his room. He had never given us trouble before about sleeping in his room, so the suddenness of it was strange. When we tried to explain that no one was in his bedroom, he insisted that there was and that the man had green hair and red eyes and he would stare at him from over his bed. This is the tip of the iceberg for me. I could write another ten pages, but now that you think I’m crazy, I’ll end the story telling here.

6. Tell us 3 funny or strange things that happened to you, or someone you know, on past Halloweens.

The last time I remember doing anything other than trick or treating with my boys for Halloween, I was nine months pregnant (he was born 6 days later) with my youngest child and I dressed up like a pregnant baby doll. I wore pajamas with teddy bears all over them, put a pacifier around my neck and put cutesy clips in my hair. Thankfully, I didn't memorialize that costume with a photo. LOL That was a wild and crazy night, fun, but wild and crazy! :D

7. If you could be any paranormal creature, what would it be and why?

Hmm…I didn’t realize how tough a question this was until I had to answer it. For me, it’s a toss-up between being a witch or a vampire. I’m partial to both. The idea of being able to cast spells and creating power from nothing is intriguing. But the idea of being immortal is also intriguing.

Now, to my writing:

8. Why the paranormal genre? What was the draw for you?

Because I can do anything with my characters, there are no rules and the only thing limiting me is my imagination.

9. If you could describe your paranormal writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please be creative and look beyond words like vampire, werewolf, etc., and delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

What were we thinking when we came up with these questions? Yikes! Another toughie. A phrase to describe my writing would be, “That was one hell of a ride!” I want my readers anxious until the very last second of the read. And when they close that book...er...click out of the e-book, I want them to feel like they've been on a roller coaster ride, but that it was well worth the adrenaline rush.

10. Do you prefer playing tricks on people or bestowing treats? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

I’m a trickster and love playing tricks on people. I doubt it shows through in my writing, since most of my work tends to be dark scenarios. But my boys and I have an ongoing prank war that my mother has helped instigate by purchasing the necessary items for the prank war. It involves scaring one another with “fake” plastic insects, spiders, snakes and lizards. The time they got me the best was with a fake ice-cube with a fly inside it. LOL Recently, my youngest kept placing fake spiders on the back of my chair and then on my computer keyboard. Well, while he was taking a shower, I placed a fake black snake on his bed so that he’d see it when he went to bed. He screamed “Momma!” and then busted into laughter, but he admitted that it did frighten him for just a moment before he realized it was fake.

11. Who decides what creatures you write about, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stirring the cauldron?

*glares at my muse* I’ve lovingly named my muse DM, which stands for Dean-Muse. He is an absolute tyrant that owns my soul. I am tortured and harassed by him, whipped and abused, and I love every second of it...most of the time. Sometimes he refuses to allow me to sleep with all the dialogue and paragraphs he’s committed to ripping out of my soul. We have bizarre arguments that if I repeated I’d mostly likely end up in a psych-ward. DM can either be a master of genius or a pain in my booty! But if he ever left me, it would be like carving my heart out of my chest with a plastic knife.

12. What was the creature that you had the most fun creating and why?

You know that question is a bit like asking me which son I like the most. I can’t pick one that I enjoyed the most, but I can tell you that I love creating characters that are dark, evil, monsters basically and without morals. They are an absolute joy to delve into. The darker the character, the better.

I wrote a demonic nursery rhyme and my husband’s comment was, “You’re f*c*ing crazy.” LOL He’s used to my neurotics. But here’s the nursery rhyme, tell me what you think:

One, two hell’s coming for you…
Three, four with lots of gore…
Five, six with flesh ripping licks…
Seven, eight pain is great…
Nine, ten start all over again.

13. If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why? Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

Oh, wow, another toughie. I love them all so much and I want to pick them all. But, if I could meet just one character it would be either Landau from Elfin Blood (newly released) or Rogh from WytchBlood (currently subbed). Both are immortal and both are a mixture of vampire and another paranormal creature. Both are misunderstood by their kinsmen, but love with every fiber of their soul and would go to the ends of the world for their heroine.

The one character I would never want to meet is Six from The Devil’s Den (publisher went under, so no longer available). I loved him and loved writing him, but his idea of the perfect meeting would be to shake my hand with a polite greeting while sinking his vampiric teeth into my neck. That would be how he got to know me better. *shudders* He was without morals, embraced his darkness and lived without regrets.

~~~~~~

Elfin Blood
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Elfin Blood Copyright 2009 Gracen Miller
Cover Art by Fiona Jayde

BLURB:

Scorned by her own kind for her half-breed elf status, Julija lives a lonely existence among her Ivory Elf kin. She is the only one the elves can trust when a magical book in elf lore is stolen. Relegated to steal the Book from the vampire thief, Landau Jamieson, she's surprised to discover he has the ability to walk in daylight. Refusing to be deterred by developing setbacks, she’s committed to executing the heist for an Ivory King who grows more desperate to possess the Book. Nothing about the vampire is as it appears and Julija begins to doubt her mission. Worse, she begins to worry she won't have the strength to guard her heart from her sworn enemy.

Landau is fascinated by the elf stalking him and baffled by the potent hunger she elicits after ten thousand years of celibacy. Soon he discovers the lovely sprite is a pawn in a dangerous game--orchestrated by none other than a reviled enemy from his past. While blind-sided by her beauty and her magical powers, the least of which is the spell she casts on his heart, the sinister plot unfolds. What started out as folly to catch a thief, blossoms into a love that casts aside bloodlines and forges all boundaries.

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

Julija squinted against the sun’s harsh rays. Not even her darkly tinted sunglasses entirely cut the glare. The frames slid down her sweat-slick nose. She pushed them back up and looked around, her impatience rising. For the fifth time in as many minutes, she glanced at her watch. Two minutes left. She resettled her gaze on the odd looking house across the street.

The structure looked more like a fortress than an actual home and gave her the creeps. It was too gothic, too dark, and contrary to her light-imbued life. Made from slate, the house reached high into the sky like a castle with its domed ceilings. Gargoyles carved from stone rested above the windows, as if offering protection from demonic entities. With a vampire in residence, perhaps they did.

She shuddered to think of it as a home, but the richest, most powerful man in the city of Veil—Landau Jamieson the IV or V or something along that order—considered it such. The man was the sole reason she stood here, or rather the vampire disguised as a man was the sole reason. Ironically the city’s residents considered him royalty. Hell, more like Batman of Gotham in these parts.

Priceless. Absolutely priceless. For no other purpose other than to make herself feel good, Julija rolled her eyes beneath the thick shades.

The vampire had stolen the Ivory Elfin Book of Lore. The ancient tome detailing every creature in existence, including the fey, had been entrusted to the Elves at the dawn of creation. Whoever possessed the book also possessed great knowledge, expertise that could be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands. Ownership of the book also ensured great power, power she could not allow a vampire to keep.

For a week now, Julija had watched him and tried to gauge the best time to strike. Failure was not an option for the best thief among the Elves. Secretly, she was proud of her talent; it had served her people well. Elves were renowned for their light step, and it just so happened her fingers were stickier than most of her kind.

Security systems could not deter her; she possessed enough magic to nix the best system in the world.

She would retrieve the book, once she figured out how to bypass the perceptive vampire and his minions. One thing still puzzled her—how had the vampire stolen it to begin with when only Elf Royals were allowed to touch it? Another dilemma for her since she was not an Elf Royal.

Her best chance to retrieve it would be in two days when the vampire attended the depot dedication of Veil's newly renovated train station. Feeling melodramatic about the event, she rolled her eyes again. How humans loved to waste money. The homeless lived near the train station, beneath the bridges in cardboard boxes. Died there too, while the station went through elaborate renovations for the wealthy and elite.

Julija glanced at her watch again as the black limousine rolled to a halt in front of the vampire’s home. Like clockwork, the man left for work every day at precisely the same time. Talk about being a creature of habit!

The vampire in question strode about as blatant as he pleased in daylight. Daylight! Vampires and daylight mixed like metal and acid. Daylight and acid were supposed to vaporize vampires and metal, but apparently not so with this vampire.

Every cocky step he took reeked arrogance. While she pondered how he managed to keep from melting beneath the sunlight, he lifted his head. Their gazes locked.

Cool as ice, and trained for confrontations, she returned his gaze. While not the most skilled fighter, she possessed some ability in that area.

Landau’s stylishly cut, dark blonde hair gleamed like gold beneath the bright sun. The man was tall, broad shouldered, and athletically built. The charcoal gray business suit, tailored precisely to fit his frame, bespoke wealth—not money, but wealth. Even from this distance, he oozed pheromones and drew her like an addictive narcotic. That could be dangerous for her elfin libido—inordinately high in comparison to other fey creatures.

The vampire tossed her a crooked grin before sliding into the back seat, leaving little question in her mind he’d spotted her. Unmoving, she watched as the limo pulled away.

Perfect. He' knows he's being watched.

Although gone from the residence, unfortunately that didn’t mean Landau left his home unguarded. Oh, no, nothing could be that easy.

Flagrant to her elfin eyes, his home embodied magic. Translated, that meant he’d opened the Ivory Elfin Book of Lore and was, in fact, utilizing the spells in the book. In all likelihood he’d used the same witchery to protect himself from the glaring sun.

Because of this, she’d have to kill him once she had the book in her possession again.

* * * * *

Landau adjusted the black sunglasses on his face and glanced out the limousine window.

The woman on the bench appealed to him with her pale, almost white, blonde hair. Through her thick shades he’d assessed her eyes to be pale blue with barely a hint of color, rather albino in nature. Her milky white complexion had looked softer than satin. He wondered how such delicate skin would bruise.

But she had an agenda. Either she was a reporter—not likely—or up to no good. Bingo! Landau couldn’t wait to find out the no good part. A long time had passed since he’d enjoyed himself.

Although he’d tried, he couldn’t read her mind. She possessed one of few human minds he couldn’t penetrate. Or she wasn’t human. The phenomena lent her an air of mystery. Even though he couldn't glean her thoughts, he knew her mind worked at top speed, planning, scheming, and devising until a perfect little blueprint had been mapped out in her mind. Her eyes were too shrewd to suggest otherwise.

He’d tossed her a snarky little grin before entering the limo, just to let her know HE knew she was stalking him. That should leave give her something to think about. He chuckled then addressed his bodyguard. “Find out who she is.”

“Immediately,” Edward, an Abecedarian—a fledgling, in human terms—agreed and then tipped his nose in the air and sniffed as if in disdain over being assigned such a menial task.

~~~~~~

G.R. Bretz reviewed Elfin Blood and I love this comment by him: “Stopping in the middle of this story would have been as feasible as stopping in the middle of sex.” To read the complete review, go here.

TWILIGHT THURSDAY

~~~~~

PENNY ASH TAKES A BITE OUT OF THE MOONLIGHT

~~~~~

Penny Ash is the author of Wish Fulfillment, Inc., released by Dark Eden Press. Puca and A Vampire Story are both coming soon from Mojocastle Press. Visit Penny’s website to learn more about her.

I want to thank Penny for blogging with us today. It's a pleasure to have you with us. We're excited to learn more about you and your books. So, let's get started with the hard stuff...some trivia about you:

1. Do you have a movie that you must watch every Halloween? Nope.

What's your favorite scary movie? The Changeling with George C Scott.

Do you have a favorite scary character or character type? I like the bad boy who's strong but vulnerable.

2. Do you have any Halloween traditions like decorating your house, having house parties, wearing costumes, etc.?

No traditions, I'm not a very traditional person.

3. If you do you dress up for Halloween, what will you be dressed up as this year? What was your all-time most favorite costume that you ever wore? Why?

My all-time favorite costume was a pioneer girl dress, I was 8. I loved the long dress.

4. Are you superstitious? Do you find yourself knocking on wood or throwing salt over your shoulder? If not one of these two, what is your superstition?

Not a bit :)

5. Do you believe in ghosts? Not sure what they are but I don't believe they're spirits of dead people.

If so, have you ever had a ghostly encounter and tell us about it? I've seen lots of foggy flitting shapes, had something sit on my bed beside me many times, and heard voices and footsteps.

6. Tell us 3 funny or strange things that happened to you, or someone you know, on past Halloweens.

I can only remember one, my friend and I found some old costumes, I can't even remember what they were, but I do remember we got dressed up. We got a couple of paper grocery bags and went trick-or-treating. In July. In Phoenix. The neighbors thought it was so cute they filled up the bags. We were 5.

7. If you could be any paranormal creature, what would it be and why?

But I am paranormal. :) Supposed to be a mermaid in my family tree. We even have a stone circle on the ancestral lands in Ireland :)

Now, let’s get to your writing:

8. Why the paranormal genre? What was the draw for you?

I've been into this stuff practically all my life. I don't think I could help it with my Celtic genes.

9. If you could describe your paranormal writing with a word or phrase, what would it be?

Ooo cool.

Please be creative and look beyond words like vampire, werewolf, etc., and delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

I'd love it if my readers wanted more after reading my books.

10. Do you prefer playing tricks on people or bestowing treats? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

Tricks of course, with twists. I think it shows in my plots, the twists and turns.

11. Who decides what creatures you write about, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stirring the cauldron?

Me definitely. I decide what I'm going to write about. Mind you the characters take over sometimes.

12. What was the creature that you had the most fun creating and why?

The Puca. He just came to life fully formed. And he's a blast to write.

13. If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why?

Probably Sasha from the upcoming Pale Fire.

Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

King Finvarra from Puca, evil sob.

~~~~~

Puca available from Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1601800711/ref=olp_product_details?ie=UTF8&me=&seller=A1UYQ05FGZ8CEW

~~~~~

BLURB:

Kian loves humans, so much so he gets himself exiled from the Fae world. Emma doesn't believe in anything she can't see and touch. For her fairytales and magical creatures are just cute stories. Little does she know everything she thought she knew is about to change when her eccentric Aunt Chloe dies and leaves Emma an enchanted forest complete with a lust inspiring Puca.

Kian and Emma are about to find out if fairytales really do come true.

EXCERPT:

More guests began to arrive that afternoon. Emma listened to Mrs. Overstreet as they climbed the stairs to the room the retired librarian had booked. The round little old lady was telling her that she required a dish of milk every evening.

"I didn't know you had brought a cat with you, Mrs. Overstreet," Emma said pleasantly.


"Oh, my heavens, child, I don't have a cat, the milk is for Them, and you must call me Julia, Mrs. Overstreet sounds so formal," she said.


"Okay, Julia. And who might They be?" Emma was mystified. She was beginning to think that several of the guests were even more eccentric than her Great Aunt Chloe had been.

"Well, of course, They are the Little People, dear, the Fairies that are all around this house. That's why I come here every spring you know, to see the Fairies," Julia confided in a whisper. "I put the dish of milk on the side porch every night before I go to bed and every morning it's empty."

"Oh, okay, I'll be sure and let Tilly or Pin know about the milk. You have a nice day, I need to take care of a few things in the kitchen right now, I'll see you at dinner," Emma said.

She hurriedly escaped into the kitchen where Kian sat at the table, a huge grin on his face. He looked up at her as she came in, his eyes sparkling emerald with mischief. "Met the first of the Fairy ladies, have you, love?"


"Don't you dare make fun of those sweet little old ladies," Emma said. She stopped by the table and glared down at him, her hands on her hips.


She looked so enticing he simply could not resist. Kian stood and pulled her into his arms, covering her mouth with his and cutting off her squeak of surprised protest. He parted her lips and dipped his tongue in to taste her, sliding one hand down her back to mold her to his body.


Emma felt her knees go weak and Kian's arms tighten in response. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed against his burning heat with a low moan. He lifted her to the kitchen table, urgently shoving dishes out of the way. He began to lay her back, reaching between them to unfasten the silver buckle of his wide black leather belt.


The sharp sound of wood striking wood startled them.

"Kian Sean Puca!" Pin shouted. She went on at him in that odd singsong language Emma was not able to understand, obviously angry and indignant and not stuttering a bit.

Kian reluctantly backed away from her, and Emma slid off the table. Pin pointed her wooden spoon at them both. "Not in my kitchen!"

~~~~~~

Coming in 2010 from Phaze Pale Fire

Sasha and Cath have been abducted together since they were children, part of an alien experiment. When they meet by accident the government steps in to separate them. But it's too late, they're determined to stay together, even if they have to run to another planet.

~~~~~

And in progress on Textnovel.com

Cursed Blood, an unconventional Vampire novel
http://www.textnovel.com/stories_list_detail.php?story_id=1164
registration is free, feel free to vote and comment


Cursed Blood

Prolog

Louisiana 1733

The pain drove Sheldon Jefferson to his knees. The pistol tumbled from his numb fingers. Connor lay somewhere to his left, passed out thankfully. How could things have gone so horribly wrong? He watched as Margaret La Rouge stepped closer and he grabbed the silk skirt of her dress. The dress he’d bought for Louisa.

“You are beautiful mon amour,” she said, her voice low and sensuous. She threaded her fingers through his hair.

“Margaret,” he began. She clenched her fist in his hair and jerked his head back.

“And treacherous,” she smiled, a parody of sweetness. “But not, I think, so treacherous as I.”

“Please,” he gasped, “anything...”

“You betrayed me mon amour.” She lowered her lips to his. “And I do not like betrayal.” She kissed him and whispered a strange and powerful word, her lips just touching his.

He shivered. A wave of bitter nausea swept through him. He heard Connor retching. The red silk slid through his nerveless fingers as he doubled over and fell to the floor. The sound of her heels on the polished oak floor echoed painfully in his ears.

How could he have been so stupid, so blinded by lust. Another wave of pain stole the breath from his lungs. He forced himself up enough to crawl to where his brother lay.

“Con, we have to get out of here,” he pulled his shivering brother up into a sitting position.

“Shel...” Connor held onto him. “Thirsty...”

A sound at the door interrupted them. Sheldon turned his head forcing his eyes to focus on the woman there. Louisa Méchanceté crossed the room and knelt beside the two men. She kissed Connor and he seemed to relax as she eased him back down onto the floor.

“What...?” Sheldon was confused.

“Hush petit amour, she has cursed you.” Louisa’s lips touched his. Heat ripped through him. Burning, coppery, salty fire. His pain faded.

“What did she do to us?” His voice was a whisper. He held onto her, desperate for the contact with her warmth. She pressed him back to lie on the floor beside his brother.

“She has cursed you, made you like she, ruled by the need for blood.” Louisa gently loosened his grip on her and stood.

“I’ll kill her...”

“Shh. Non. I have done what I can to ease the curse. I cannot break it, only when you find true love will that happen. And alas, while le petit mort is tres bon with you, I do not love you.” She looked at the door and he followed her gaze. Her servant stood waiting. “Gervaise will take you to the docks. You must leave this place.”

He took one last look at Louisa standing on the dock before he turned and looked ahead to the future. They would not be coming back to this place. He followed Connor to their berth and the start of their new life.

~~~~~

And just for fun...
A Vampire Story

By reading further you agree you are 18 or over

It was a dark and stormy night--yes, I know, but whose story is this anyway?--I stood on the battlement of the highest turret of the castle, my cape billowing out behind me in the wind.

Lightning flashed and thunder crashed; a storm began to gather. A bolt of lightning hit the tower a few feet away and I began to get the idea it might not be the brightest thing in the world to keep standing out here. One good zap and I’d be so much ash on the wind.

Regally I pulled my cape around me with a flourish and turned to go inside. The fabric, a good quality boiled wool herringbone weave, wrapped tightly around my ankles, speeding up my progress to the bottom of the battlement stairs considerably. I didn’t even have time to turn into a bat. Damn. And ouch.

Lying there wrapped up like a mummy, I heard a snicker and looked up to see my not so faithful sidekick--thank you so much, powers of darkness, my night is complete now--leaning in the doorway.

“Sunrise is in four minutes, Master,” he said, turning to walk back into the castle.

What a weenie. I mean, is it too much to ask he should help me out and untangle my feet? Good help is so hard to find these days.

I managed to get my feet untangled at last and made it to the door, hopping on one foot while I tried to keep an eye on the sky that was slowly turning pink. I reached for the doorknob and turned.

Locked.

Figures.

I took a deep breath and prepared to transform myself into smoke.

The lock mechanism tickled as I flowed through it. Materializing on the other side of the door, I had only seconds to reach my coffin before the first rays of sunlight seared through the windows. Not sparing a thought--well, okay, maybe just a teeny one--for my Armani tuxedo lying in a heap on the other side of the door--no, I turn to smoke, the clothes stay the same, sorry to burst your bubble like that--I dashed for the dark safety of the casket, slamming the lid just barely in time.

I woke hungry. Sitting up, I pushed the lid back and stretched, yawning. Another night, another dollar. I climbed out of bed--what, you thought I’d call it something poetic?--and went to the armoire to pick out my tuxedo for the night.

Now to some, my wardrobe might be considered somewhat limited, but I took my cue from ZZ Top. As they say, all the girls are crazy about a sharp dressed man. And believe me, the girls are the only thing that makes this neverending night bearable. Dinner and entertainment all in one neat little package; you can’t beat it for convenience.

Straightening my black tie--not reflecting in mirrors really bites, especially when you possibly had a little dinner stuck in your teeth--and smoothing back my freshly styled hair, I walked toward the door. A quick adjustment to my white linen French cuffs--$19.95 including free shipping from the Men’s Store online pre-Halloween sale catalog--a deep breath, and showtime. I stepped through the appropriately creaking door to greet the first batch of tourists, a huge smile advantageously showing my teeth.

Oh. Joy. Another group of Buffy wannabes and adenoidal geeks. I began my monolog on the history of the castle--yeah, all the usual boring stuff, the family curse and the whole bit. The tourists loved it.

“Gut efenink,” I said suavely. “Velcome to Castle Blut. I am Count Vladimir Wassily, your host for the efenink.”

“Wassily? Where’s Dracula, man? I want my money back, we been gypped!” said a skinny boy in the back of the crowd.

I shuddered distastefully. There was one in every crowd, a know-it-all twerp who would probably wet himself if I allowed the walking smorgasbord called a tour group see my true magnificence.

“Vell, ve cannot all be Dracula,” I said smoothly.

“Boy, you got that right,” the boy laughed.

“Now, if ve may continue the tour?” A movement caught my eye and I noticed my assistant, Bob, lurking in the shadows. He was crawling around on his hands and knees looking for bugs--obviously, Bob has issues--and not having much luck.

“As it is now my break time, I will be turning you over to my assistant, Bob.” I really needed to get out of there for a quick bite. Bob looked up, startled, and glared at me. Payback is a bitch. I grinned at him as I swept regally by.

When I was sure the tour group was out of sight, I quickly changed to my bat form and launched myself into the night. It was time to find some breakfast.

I arrived back at the castle late--so what are they going to do, fire me?--Bob was finishing up the tour with a tale of blood and mayhem. Several of the group looked a little green. Bob may be a total butt as an assistant, but he can sure tell a story. Geek Boy looked as if he was about to lose it; it was time to step in.

“Ah, I see a vonderful time vas hat by all, thank you for comink and good night,” I said, smoothly stepping in and dismissing Bob.

And that was when I saw her. I don’t know how I missed her in my initial perusal of the tour group. She had a gothic beauty I had rarely seen. Her coal-black hair sent a shiver through me--I have a thing for dark hair, even dyed hair, oh and for Cheese Whiz too, but that’s another story--and I began to take her over with my superior mental powers. Short, shiny black dress, army boots, oh, yeah, she would make a nice bit of dessert after the tour left. I watched as the tourists filed out, willing her to stay behind.

I spoke to her in a low hypnotic voice, subtly suggesting she was under my control and would do anything for me.

“You will be happy to come with me,” I murmured softly.

“Yes, Master,” she intoned back.

“You will...” I began. Suddenly I heard an odd sound, like a held-in sneeze.

She grinned, unable to hold it in anymore and snorted, shaking, trying to keep it in, finally giving up and dissolving into laughter. She snickered and snorted, chortled, chuckled, and giggled.
I stood there in shock. She was laughing at me--and if that doesn’t kill the old ego and wilt old Willy--she wasn’t hypnotized or under control at all.

Everything I’d used for hundreds of years had just completely and totally failed. Well, damn. So much for seduction. I gave up. With an exasperated sigh of frustration, I pulled her into my arms and began to sink my teeth into her neck. Maybe I could get laid tomorrow night; the Halloween season was always good for tourists.

Suddenly I felt something hot. Whoa! Dang! Ow, dammit, that’s hot! What the... I looked down and saw the wet spot on my pants. It smoked slightly. I looked back up at the girl. She had a large cross in one hand and a long string of garlic cloves in the other. I cringed and backed up slowly. Wonderful. Well, now I knew why my mental powers didn’t work.

The holy water was eating a hole in my second-best Armani tux. And where the heck had she hidden that garlic? Freakin’ thing was a good three feet long and she just didn’t have anywhere to hide something that size in that tiny black vinyl mini-dress.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I hollered.

“Your reign of terror is over, vampire, it’s our turn now!” the girl shrieked wildly.

“Bob!” I yelled desperately.

The girl whipped a large stake out of the miracle mini-dress.

No answer.

Oh, for crying out loud. I searched for Bob. Yep, you guessed it; he was over in a corner chasing down a cockroach. Geez.

The girl raised the stake over her head and attacked. I sidestepped her lunge and tried to avoid the garlic.

“Uh, you want to tell me what this is about?” I dodged another lunge.

“As if you didn’t know, you evil spawn of Hell!” she gasped, beginning to drool.

“But...” I gasped, jumping out of the way once more. And what was all this spawn of Hell crap? I’m telling you, we need a lobby group or something, ban the anti-vampire rhetoric.

She took another swipe at me.

“What did I ever do to you?” I asked.

“You bit my mom!” She threw the garlic at me.

“Your mom? I never! Dang!” I tripped on the garlic.

“You did too!” she screamed, pouncing on me.

“When? I deny everything!” I grabbed her wrist, trying to hold the stake back from my chest and got a good look down the front of her dress. The girl had some world-class boobs.

“Twenty-seven years ago!” She struggled, determined to kill me.

“Twenty-seven years? I bite a lot of women, toots, you expect me to remember all of them? You’re crazy!” I struggled back--what, you think I’m supposed to have superhuman strength? Against a crazy woman? Get real.

“Count Wazzlie,” she began.

“Wazzlie? I’m not Wazzlie!” I yelled, offended. “Wazzlie is two castles down the road, sister! I am Count Wassily!” How insulting. I mean, Wazzlie is a no-taste dweeb! He wears a leisure suit!

The girl stopped. “Wassily?”

“Yes,” I hissed.

“You sure?” she said doubtfully.

“Yes, I’m sure!” I pushed Psycho Girl off me and stood up, dusting myself off.

She looked at me with huge blue eyes and clambered to her feet. I studiously straightened my clothes--at least what the holy water hadn’t eaten away--and ignored her. I felt a migraine coming on. A chortle from the far corner broke the silence. Bob had finally caught that roach.

“Ew!” the girl said in deep disgust.

“Bob has issues, it’s not nice to stare,” I said frostily.

She looked embarrassed, and I watched her slip stealthily out the door. I sighed, relieved, and went over to the corner, where Bob sat cheerfully munching away. He looked up at me expectantly.

“Bob, you’re disgusting, you know that?” I said.

“Yez, bozz.” He smiled, antennae stuck in his teeth.

I shuddered and went into my rooms to change for the next tour group. I looked in the mirror at the state of my clothes and grimaced. Yes, the clothes reflect, I don’t. Got it? Good. So anyway, my cleaning bill was going to be enormous. I shimmied out of my jacket and noticed the tear. Just wonderful, what next?

Hands slid around my waist and I nearly came out of my skin. Preternatural hearing? Don’t make me laugh. One hand pushed the red silk cummerbund up while the other hand worked at the button on my trousers. I looked up to see Goth Girl reflected in the mirror getting feely with an empty tuxedo. Way weird.

I looked back down to see her hands unzipping the zip and Mr. Willy getting happy. Hoo, Mr. Willy got really happy when she gave him a little squeeze.

“Uh, doing here wha, um ha.” My brain went bye-bye and I couldn’t form a coherent thought. Damn, she had talented hands.

“Wow, you’re big.”

I preened a little at Goth Girl’s words. Suddenly she grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, slamming me up against the wall by the mirror. My head smacked the stone wall with a loud crack and my teeth clacked together. I raised my hand to my throbbing head.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” Okay, so I whined, it frickin hurt!

“I’m going to tie you up and have my way with you.”

“Uh...” This could be serious; she had this weird glint in her eye. “You really don’t have to tie me up.” I edged toward the door.

“Yes, I do, I’m studying to be a Dom. I need the practice.”

“No,” I said slowly, “I really don’t think that’s necessary.

She fixed me with a glare. “Yes. It. Is.”

Oh, boy...

She had her back turned toward me. I kept an eye on her and gave the rope securing my hands to the ornately carved headboard a look. Nope, good solid knots. I glanced down at Willy Wanger. Yeah, I saw the Willy Wonka movie, in Romanian. I’m scarred for eternity. He had transformed to Mr. I’m-So-Damn-Perky-I-Hurt.

“I really like this shirt,” she said. “Silk?”

“Um, yeah, on sale from the Macy’s summer catalog.” It was a good deal too, washable silk ain’t cheap.

“Cool.” She stripped off the wonder dress and I forgot to breathe. The girl had some world-class knockers and I’d bet I could circle her waist with my hands. Of course, she’d have to let me loose first for that. And the rest of her was damn fine, a natural redhead too, from what I could see.

She dropped the dress and slipped on my shirt. Oh, yeah. I willed her over to the bed. Okay, okay, I admit the decorator was right about putting a bed in my room; this wouldn’t be nearly as much fun in a casket, not to mention kind of gross. I hoped she’d hurry up; old Willy was going to take off without her if she didn’t get a move on.

I swallowed hard, or rather I tried to; my mouth was dry as dust. “Uh, blast off is very close...”

“Already?” She sounded surprised.

“Ah, it’s been a while, so yeah. Um, all right. If you could just come over here and...” 1952, okay? Happy now?

She climbed onto the bed and knelt over me. I sighed. She stopped.

Our eyes locked, and I noticed she had one blue eye and one brown. Slowly she sank down onto me. And oh man, did it feel good. She moved, and I arched up in response. Oh, yeah, this was as good as I remembered, maybe even better.

She moaned and began to move faster. My eyes crossed and rolled back in my head. I was so close, just a few more seconds... She pushed down with a groan and I went over the edge with a shout, grabbing the headboard and jerking my hips up off the bed.

I relaxed as my breathing slowed, smiling. I could get used to this. She lay against me, limp.

“Oh, Tommy,” she said with a sigh.

My eyes snapped open. Who the heck is Tommy? So far this week I’d been a Wesley, a Ryan, a Zebulon--hey, you can’t make this stuff up--a Xavier, and now a Tommy. What is it with these women? And yes, I know I said the last time I got off was 1952, but I didn’t say I hadn’t gotten anyone else off. I’m going to have a word with the Transylvania tourism board. I think I’m getting a complex. And if they’re going to supply the clients with real garlic and holy water, I want a raise.