More Chicago

Following my usual habit, here’s what happens after my Rainbow Snippet of yesterday, after Aiden decides to show Marco what it really means to get close:

“Do you want me to kiss you there?   Do you, Marco?”   He nods, his eyes closed.  I press him to me as I lower my mouth to his chest, piercing the skin.  His eyes squeeze tighter, a small moan moving in his throat as I drink a few quick mouthfuls of him, then pull away sharply.  I close my eyes, trembling.  This is hard, very hard.  Hard to stop.  Even now, I want to grab him and finish the job.  I feel him approach me, trying to put his arms around my waist.  I throw up my hands in a panic, stopping him. I turn to face the wall, eyes squeezed shut, trembling with my own needs.  He backs off.

“It’s all right, sir–Aidan.  Thank you.  I understand now.”

I turn, furious, glaring at him, my eyes black and staring.  My fangs are still stained with his blood.

“You understand?”  I stalk over to him.  “Just what in hell do you understand, Marco?  That I’m a vampire?  That I just marked you?  You don’t understand anything.”  My voice is shaking. I take my handkerchief and wipe my mouth.  The stains won’t fade this time–he’s still alive.  I drop the handkerchief, watching it flutter to the floor, stained with red.  “Do you know how close you were to dying?”

He nods.

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Chicago Circle

In this snippet, Marco takes a chance and tells Aiden how he really feels–

“Mr. Byrne, have you ever noticed how some of the girls and women in the class look at you when they think you’re not noticing?”

“Yes, Marco, I have, and I try to ignore it, really.  Most of the time, it’s the accent and the lure of someone young, foreign and forbidden, I suppose.”

He looked in my eyes again, suddenly bold.

“I look at you that way when I think you don‘t see, when you‘re busy doing something else.  I think some of the students know.  I’m sorry, sir–I can’t help how I feel, you’re only five years older than I am, it’s not too far out, it could happen–”.

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More Christmas in July

Here’s an expanded snippet of my Rainbow of yesterday, in which Arthur and Ciaran will soon be feeling the effects– 🙂

“You know it’ll only be a matter of minutes until someone calls the police, Arthur.”

“What do you propose we do about it?” I ask. Ciaran presses his finger to his lips, his eyes twinkling as they develop a distinctive ebony cast. I draw back in recognition.

“To hell with watching, I’m coming with you, I know what you’re about.” We hustle over to our seasonal friend and each take an elbow, hustling him into an empty storefront. The sound of cheers and clapping follows us inside as we shut and lock the door.

“Wha’the fuck?” our friend slurs as we drag him across the empty dust-covered floor to a hallway. These storefronts are a dime a dozen in the Christmas village—for looks only on the outside.

“So Arthur,” Ciaran asks as he props up our mutual friend against a wall, “would you care to tell me just how you managed to unlock a heavy door with so little effort, and how you know what I’m about?” He looks into my eyes..

..and he knows.

They’re as black as his are, the whites disappearing just like his. I can feel my fangs erupting, getting longer, anticipating that alcohol infused meal. I was right about him, I was right. Finally.

“Why, Ciaran, dear, we’re merely protecting the young children from possible trauma at the hands of a beloved figure of myth,” I snort, looking down at said figure who is prone on the floor in a pool of his own drool.

“Why you right bastard,” he whispers. “You’re a bleeding vampire!”

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Christmas In July

Here’s a little sampler of Crimson Christmas, in which our vampire lovers run afoul of Santa Claus–

Our heads turn at the same time at the sound of drunken shouting.


What greets us is the incongruous sight of an extremely inebriated Santa Claus staggering in the shadows across the street, trying and failing to stay upright while he attempts to coax parents and their children to talk to him.


The horrified looks on the faces of those parents tell the tale. They grab their children and do their best to avoid the noxious fumes of alcohol that drift from him.

“You know it’ll only be a matter of minutes until someone calls the police, Arthur.”

Come read more Rainbow Snippets here–something for every taste: (1)

Ninian Speaks

This is what happens after my Rainbow Snippet of yesterday from Sins Of The Sire, when Ninian speaks through Leah:

I’d appreciate it if you would keep your pups on a tight leash, love,” Ninian snapped. “We have business to discuss.”

Before answering, Carl glanced over at Craig and Oz, trying to reassure them he had this under control; he supposed he was trying to reassure himself as well. He turned back to Leah/Ninian.

“The only business I wish to discuss with you is the whereabouts of my mother in law, Ninian.”

“So cold, Carlo. My, how you’ve changed.” Ninian grinned at the look of contained fury Carl wore. He shrugged, using Leah’s shoulders.

“Very well, here’s how it’s going to be, love,” he told Carl. “I have your mother in law in a secure location. You come to my library, all three of you,” he breathed, glaring at Craig and Oz, “and we’ll come to terms. You have until the night of your play closing, in deference to the artistic community. But,” Ninian raised one of Leah’s hands, the index finger extended, “don’t make the mistake of underestimating me, my dear. Not after you left me.” Ninian/Leah gave Craig and Carl a withering look. “You two won’t be able to help your alpha vampire here any longer,” he told them. “If you want your dear Mary back, you’ll have to trade me Carlo for her. I’ll make sure she’s in a secure location where you’ll be able to pick her up after Carlo and I have made our exit.”

All three watched and listened as Ninian’s voice faded, the last subtle message settling in.

“I’ll summon you when it’s time—Leah’s last duty—“

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sots new cover

Leah and Ninian

This snippet is from the chapter in which Craig, Carl, and Oz need to find out where Mary is, since Leah came back from the library without her. Ninian has decided to use Leah as a conduit for his first confrontation—

“What have you done with my mother?” Craig demanded, and Ninian deepened his gaze, all controlled fury.

“Did I ask you to speak? No? Then that must mean I don’t wish to hear your grating voice, correct?” Ninian barked out that statement, raising one of Leah’s eyebrows at the furious look Craig wore, then turned his full attention to Carl again. The expression softened, and if one could say a vampire was beaming, then Ninian was.

“Carlo, oh my dear Carlo, I missed you.” Leah smiled, and it was terrifying. Oz jumped, bumping into the coffee table.

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Ninian’s Turning

Here’s a snippet from Sins Of The Sire, in which Ninian is remembering his rebirth as a vampire by his mentor’s hand:

A sudden, sharp pain makes my eyes spring open, though, and my mouth opens wide, my leaking cock painting the inside of my trousers. It’s too much, the pain rises as Ruathal plunges his fangs deeper into the flesh of my throat, taking what he will from me. I can’t help it, my traitorous hardness climaxes and soaks me as I scream out.

“AHHH God!” I yell, and I feel Ruathal’s lips smile against my skin as he feeds, grabbing me around my waist as I start sliding from his grip.

My eyes flutter shut, and I enter a half-life of sorts, a dream sleep as he finally pulls away, his chin and cheeks covered with my blood.

“Time, my lovely boy,” he says, smiling as he sweeps me into his arms, cradling me as he carries me to his bed, using my legs to sweep aside the curtain that partitions off his sleeping chamber from the rest of his cottage. He lays me down oh so gently as he strips off his tunic and raises his wrist to his lips, puncturing the skin with one of his shrinking fangs, then presses his own flesh to my lips.

“Drink, boy, taste me and taste yourself.” Through the fog that I’m floating in, I seize the lifeline he gives me as I grab his arm and drink from him. Never in my life have I tasted anything like this; no brew, no wine, no food I have ever had could be this wonderful and delicious to me. His head falls back as he feels his own ecstasy, his own pleasure in making me as he is. I feel the transfer of power, the thrum of our combined blood rushing through my body, and it is glorious.

I feel bereft and empty as he gently removes his arm, and I chase the sudden pain of my death into the familiar mist.

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