Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Wednesday Briefs - Boys of Belsmeade 30

Welcome to Wednesday Briefs! It's flash fiction, so this story will be presented in 1000(ish)-word chapters. I hope you enjoy it, and check out the many other flashers, whose links are below. You can also check out the Wednesday Briefs Blog for more info and to sign up for email notifications.

Thanks for reading!


Chapter Thirty

Betina dragged John through the forest, toward the group of waiting SUVs. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, her tongue sliding teasingly over her fangs.

John groaned and felt his cock getting hard. "Where are we going?"

"The count's villa. We'll have privacy there, for a while at least." Digging keys out of her pocket, she opened the doors of a large Mercedes. "Get in."

"Okay," John said nervously. This was all happening very fast. He knew that Benita was meant to be his mate, but they literally knew nothing about one another. "Can we just talk, though?"

Benita pulled onto the road and asked absently, "Talk? Why?"

He cleared his throat and answered, "I… I'm scared, Benita."

She brought the car to a screeching halt and gaped at him. "Are you scared of me?"

John put a hand to her cheek and smiled reassuringly. "Of course not. Look, I know you're my mate. I feel it with everything that I am, but this is all completely new to me. I didn't know vampires were real until two days ago when I found out my son had been turned. Then, I was kidnapped, turned into a vampire, and woke up in some demented woman's bed."

"Don't talk about her," Benita said with a growl.

"Sorry. But then the windows exploded, and I was rescued by some vast vampire army, and Eliot was there, and then you show up, and I run away with you, and… it's all extremely overwhelming. I mean, what am I going to do? I suppose I can retire. Lord knows I hate the politics of medicine, but what do I tell my friends? What do I tell Eliot's mother?"

Benita leaned over and kissed him softly. "I'm so sorry, John. I was so caught up in my own feelings that I've neglected what you've been through. We'll go to the count's villa and talk. We'll take as much time as you need, and you can ask anything you need to. The rest—us—will come in time."

He squirmed in his seat. "Not the best choice of words." Benita bit her lip and looked apologetic. John kissed her again and said, "Maybe I'll ask some questions tonight, but there are some things that just can't wait much longer."


"Where do you think Dad went?" I asked Aristes.

"I suspect they went back to the count's villa," he replied with a smile.

I sighed and Aramis put an arm around me. "Hey, babe. Be happy for him."

"Happy?" I shrieked, smacking his hand away. "Aramis, do you have any idea what has happened here? Dad has a job. He has family, friends, coworkers, and let's not forget Mom, who, I'm sure, will be very interested to know why her ex-husband has suddenly become a plasma-holic!"

Marco laughed from the front seat. Aurelia put a hand to my cheek. "My dear Eliot, you must remain calm. You've been under a great deal of stress and you'll need to feed soon. I know that your world has been turned upside down, but trust me when I say everything will be all right. Yes, it will take time to work out the details, but you will have all of us to help. Benita also has many resources at her disposal, and is an extremely wealthy woman. Your father will not want for anything."

I picked at a loose thread on my pants. "Well… where does she live?"

"In Tuscany," Aristes answered. "Beautiful villa."

"Figures. I've always wanted to go to Tuscany."

"Then we'll go," Aramis said. "When school's done, we'll backpack through Tuscany."

His smile was so sweet that I couldn't resist it. I unbuckled my seatbelt and climbed onto his lap, burying my face against his chest. "I love you, Aramis," I said with a yawn.

"Love you, baby," he replied, kissing the top of my head. Then I heard his thoughts come through to me. "You'd better get some sleep now, because I plan on fucking you all night long."

Since I'd been able to project my thoughts to the count, I thought I'd try it again. I concentrated hard. "Hey, Aramis? Can you hear me?"

His arms tightened around me. "You did it! I'm proud of you."

I craned my neck up so he could kiss me. What started out gently quickly morphed into a breathy battle of tongues and lips. His cock hardened beneath me and I squeaked in surprise.

"Boys!" Aristes warned. "Behave yourselves."

Aramis tickled my ribs and I giggled, trying to smack his hands away. Aurelia sighed. "I guess I'll have to separate you. Eliot, sit over here, and I'll sit in the middle."

"But—" Aramis began, as his mother yanked me off his lap. Humiliation killed my erection, thank God. I buckled my seatbelt without complaint, but I could tell my mate was seriously pissed. He sighed loudly and dramatically at regular intervals for the rest of the drive.

When we finally arrived at the count's villa, I barely had time to hear the count say, "Your father and Benita are in the guest house and will join us later," before Aramis dragged me upstairs.

"Gee, this isn't obvious," I huffed.

Halfway down the hall, Aramis backed me up against the wall and kissed me hard. "I am so fucking horny," he whispered in my ear. "Want you now."

"Take me then," I said before fixing my mouth to his.

The noise of someone coming up the stairs jolted us apart, so we ran in to the nearest guest room and locked the door. Aramis dropped to his knees and looked up at me with a knowing smile. With excruciating slowness, he remove my belt and tossed it onto the floor. The pants, which were far too big, fell down around my ankles.

To be continued...


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Monday, February 9, 2015

Love Is Love - Valentine's Day Blog Hop

I'm so thrilled to be taking part in the Love Is Love blog hop. Such fabulousness! There will be a Rafflecopter drawing for one lucky person to win a Kindle e-reader AND an amazingly, mind-boggling collection of over FORTY books, generously provided by many of the authors participating in the hop! So please don't forget to enter. The Rafflecopter entry and a list of the participating authors will be included at the end of this post.

Since my book REMEMBER HIM is scheduled to be released next month, I though I'd post an as-yet untitled Amsel Clan short for this hop. I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for reading!



"Why Valentine's Day?" I whined.

Greta peeked her head out of the dressing room and said sweetly, "Because I want it on Valentine's Day. That way, it will always be doubly special."

"That way," Sam added, "her Valentine's Day gift every year will have to be huge. Poor Kirner."

"Exactly," Greta shot back, disappearing behind the curtain. "Ooh, ow. Eep! Jesus!"

Sam laughed. "What are you doing in there, wrestling an alligator?"

"Trying… to get… this dress on. Kinda… tight. Wait—ah! Got it. Now close your eyes."

"They're closed," Sam and I both said.

Silky fabric brushed past my hand as the seamstress helped settle Greta in front of the mirror. After a few minutes, she said, "Okay."

I opened my eyes and was instantly rendered speechless. Greta's wedding dress was the most beautiful I'd ever seen. The bodice was tight and strapless, like a corset. Then the skirt fanned out in layers upon layers of silk and tulle. Sam and I both stood and walked around Greta to see everything. The back of the skirt trailed behind her a few feet, making it perfect for private chapel where she would be married the next day.

What made the dress especially perfect for Greta, though, was the color. The top of the dress was white, but the skirt was pink—pale pink just under the bodice, but gradually darkening in hue until the hem, which matched Greta's stunning eyes.

Those same eyes met mine, waiting impatiently for my reaction. Finally I was able to express myself. "It's so beautiful, Greta. I just can't believe it. I…"

Sam gently hugged her, trying not to step on the voluminous skirts. "You're magnificent," he said. "I've never seen anything so beautiful."

"I'm so glad you like it. Now you know why I waited until the day before the wedding to show you. I wanted it to be a complete surprise."

Anne, the dress designer, stood looking on, smiling brilliantly. I shook her hand and said, "Thank you so much. You've gone above and beyond what I'd ever imagined."

"It was such a pleasure," she gushed. "And so exciting. I've never designed a dress for a…"

"Vampire?" I asked with a smirk.

"Oh God, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said that." She put her hands over her face and groaned in embarrassment.

"Please don't worry, Anne," Sam said. He pulled her hands gently away from her face and smiled warmly. "We know we're a novelty."

Greta twirled around, admiring herself in the mirror. "I tried to tell her it was okay to ask us questions, but she insists not to."

"Oh come on," I said, urging the woman to speak up. "It's fine."

Anne bit her bottom lip. She really was a beautiful woman, and I made a mental note to ask her if she was single. Several of the guards back home would definitely be interested. She finally worked up the courage to say, "Okay. There are two things I'm insanely curious about."

"Shoot," I said.

"Can I see your fangs?" The words were nearly inaudible, and her cheeks flamed.

"Sure." After making sure the seamstress had left the room, I opened my mouth wide. Anne leaned in stared in amazement as my fangs lengthened.

"Oh, wow!" She put her hand up to her mouth and giggle. "That's wild."

I chuckled and asked, "What else were you so insanely curious about?"

Anne's blush became even more impressive before she asked, "Can you really seduce people? Like in movies and books? Do you… talk in their heads?"

Knowing I literally had the power to render her unconscious—or worse—with my powerful mind, I hesitated. Sam cleared his throat and offered, "Allow me."

He walked slowly toward her, letting his fangs descend and licking his lips hungrily. His eyes flashed silvery-white. Anne's own eyes were wide and I heard her heart rate spike. Greta and I glanced at each other. Sam was truly a master of his art.

Anne walked backward into the mirror, with her human mind instinctively wanting to flee. Her lust overwhelmed her senses, though, and she couldn't tear her gaze away from the vampire stalking her. When Sam stood within inches of her, he braced one hand on the mirror. With his other hand, he lightly drew one fingertip across her lips. All this while maintaining steady eye contact with her. I couldn't begin to imagine what thoughts he was putting into the poor woman's head.

Greta's thoughts came through to me. If Stefan saw this, he would totally lose his shit. Damn, but he is sexy though.

I raised an eyebrow. You'll be a married woman in less than twenty-four hours. Stop fantasizing.

Greta stuck her tongue out at me. Spoil sport.

Anne suddenly moaned loudly. "Oh, yes!" she cried, arching her back for more contact with Sam. Her blood pressure went through the roof as her chest heaved. I was stupefied. I looked at Greta and thought, Did he just… to her?

She nodded. Holy shit. He just gave her the big "O" without even touching her. A lot of guys can't do that using their dick and both hands all at the same time. Give that boy a prize!

When Anne grabbed at his waist, Sam backed away from her as though she'd just burst into flames. She put a hand to her heart and panted. "I just need to sit down a minute. A little dizzy."

Sam panicked, thinking he'd hurt her. Apparently he had no clue what had happened. "Are you okay? Oh God. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone so far."

"Please don't apologize," Anne said with a weak laugh. "Absolutely worth it."

Once Greta changed out of the gorgeous dress, we hurried a still oblivious Sam to the parking garage. It took all of my efforts not to choke as I contained my laughter. When we climbed into the Rover, Greta and I let loose with loud cackles and guffaws. It took us several minutes to calm down.

Sam crossed his arms and scowled. "What's so fucking funny?" he asked.

Greta groaned. "Oh my God, Sam, are you that dense?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The designer, Anne!" I snapped. "Are you not able to realize what you did?"

"Yeah, I almost made her faint. I feel so terrible."

I snorted and began laughing again, so Greta had to explain it to him. "Okay, sweetie. Here's the deal. You just gave my wedding dress designer the best orgasm of her life."

"I what?" he cried in horror.

"You rocked her world, all right," I replied with a snicker. "Move over Casanova. Make room for the Pharaoh."

Greta and I kept breaking out in fits of giggles during the entire ride home. Sam stared straight ahead, unable to process what he'd done.


The house was a flurry of action, as last-minute wedding preparations were finalized. As usual, the kitchen was the center of activity. I heard Lowner snapping out, "No! Bad dogs. Don't you dare!"

I looked at Greta and she rolled her eyes. When Lowner began screaming at the animals, the inevitable quarrel was about to start. Once again, our housekeeper's voice boomed out above everyone else's. "Quincy, I need you! Does anyone know where he is? Where's he gone? Quincy? Quincy!"

"For fuck's sake!" came a voice from upstairs. "Can I not get a moment's peace?" A door slammed and a very pissed-off Quincy landed right in front of us, having leapt over the balcony. Without greeting us, he stormed into the kitchen.

Greta and I followed, dragging a catatonic Sam with us. I set him in a chair turned to watch the action. The room was full, but everyone had backed up to give Quincy and Lowner space to duke it out.

"Can you ever," Quincy snarled, "let me finish one bloody thing before screaming my name and asking me to do something else? Jesus Christ! You can't do anything that doesn't require my help!"

Lowner picked up a lump of sticky dough and heaved it at his mate. It struck Quincy in the chest, and Lowner smirked triumphantly. "You bastard. Do you realize how much cooking I have to do today? And now I've got these dogs all over me. So do something!"

"Those dogs are all over you because you constantly give them treats when you think we're not looking!" Quincy shot back. An orange bounced off his head and he growled. "Stop that."


A banana was next. It sailed through the air, but Stefan came into the room and caught the projectile before it hit its mark. He growled in warning and slammed the fruit down on the counter. Unfortunately, he used so much force that its skin split and the banana exploded. There was instant silence, and we all gasped when we surveyed the carnage. A few of the lower-ranking guards ran from the room.

Stefan's normally spotless uniform was covered in mashed banana. The fragrant fruit was also splattered over his face and in his hair. Without speaking, he held a hand out to Lowner, who quickly wet a towel and gave it to Stefan.

"The next time," he said, half-muffled through the damp cloth, "and I do mean the very next time I hear you two fighting like this, there will indeed be fruits flying around this house, but I assure you it won't be the edible kind! As it stands I have half a mind to put the two of you in a cage and let you fight to the death. What is wrong with you? You're both over two hundred years old, yet you bicker like toddlers constantly. None of the other mates fight like you. Sam and I never fight. Right, Sam?"

We all turned to Sam, who was listing slightly in his chair. Stefan hurried to him. "Babe? Sam? Are you okay?"

Sam blinked a few times and began to mumble. "She… and I just showed her my… and I told her… I'd hold her down and… suck her blood, but I didn't think… and the orgasm and… I am such a pervert."

Stefan looked pointedly at me, silently demanding clarification. I took a deep breath and explained. "It's all very simple. We went to the designers to see Greta's dress, and it was gorgeous, by the way, and I thanked the designer and she asked to see my fangs, so I showed her, but then she asked if we can really seduce people by talking in their heads, but I didn't want to do it, for obvious reasons, so Sam offered to do it, but he must have gone a little overboard, 'cause the woman had a full-on orgasm, like moaning and gasping, right there in front of us without even touching herself, which Greta tells me is kinda unheard of."

He looked at me as though I'd claimed to be Superman, then shook his head quickly. "So you're telling me my mate had fully-clothed, silent sex with a woman? And that woman had a hands-free orgasm? Did Sam have a—"

"Lord, no," Greta answered. "He didn't even realize what he'd done until we got him into the car and told him. He thought the woman was just dizzy."

Stefan breathed slowly, trying to remain calm, but it wasn't working. He crossed his arms to keep from strangling someone. "He didn't realize… Uh huh. Well, I have hard time believing that."

"Stefan," I urged. "He really didn't know."

"Oh, please. How could he not? He may not have the experience with women like Freyr had after he met you, but—" Everyone in the room gasped loudly. Stefan slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with fear. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Carter."

My body went cold, and then burning hot. I could feel myself losing control. I screwed my eyes shut, trying to tame my beast. As I fought with my anger, I heard the door open and close, and Freyr's sweet scent assaulted my senses. My stomach turned and I wanted to vomit.

"Where is everyone?" Freyr called. I opened my eyes, not surprised that my vision was sharpened. My ears picked up every racing heart in the room. Evidently, everyone else was terrified at what was about to happen. A few more guards beat a hasty retreat.

My mate sauntered into the kitchen and his gaze fell on me. With a brilliant smile, he crossed the room to stand in front of me. "Hey, babe."

He leaned down for a kiss, and at that moment, I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I was so furious. I knew I should give Freyr a chance to explain, but I just didn't want to hear the explanation right then. I needed time to think—away from my mate. I put a hand to his chest and pushed him back.

Freyr's eyebrows pulled down in confusion. "Carter? What's wrong?"

I couldn't say it. I shook my head and walked calmly out of the kitchen, leaving Freyr to stare after me.



What the hell had just happened? I came home from work, ready to spend a little time with Carter before the craziness of the wedding started, and he had pushed me away. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. No one said a word, and expressions of fear and terror masked their faces. When I looked at Stefan, and he wouldn't even make eye contact, I braced myself for the worst.

"Stefan, what is going on?"

His shoulders slumped and he looked more pitiful, more insecure than I'd ever seen him. His regretful gaze finally met mine. "Jesus, Freyr. I'm sorry. I told Carter that you'd…"

"That I'd what?" I demanded.

He swallowed hard. "That you'd been with women after he moved in with Alder." My mouth dropped open in disbelief and he hurried to make excuses. "They came home from seeing the dress, and they told me that Sam had been joking around and he'd given some woman an orgasm, but he didn't know. I couldn't believe he didn't know he'd made the woman come, though. Carter tried to calm me down, but I was just so pissed that I let it slip that you… had experience with women after you met him."

My jaw fell open. This was so much worse than the worst. I grabbed Stefan by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. "You what?" I boomed. "You couldn't control your fucking temper for two seconds? Do you know what you've done?" My fangs lengthened as my anger raged. A harsh roar ripped from my throat.

Greta cried, "Freyr, don't!"

Quincy tried to pull me back, but he wasn't strong enough, so two guards grabbed my arms and yanked hard. I release my grip and staggered. Stefan opened his mouth to speak, but I put up a hand. "I can't even look at you right now, Stef."

I ran from the room and headed upstairs. As I walked down the hall, saw my bedroom door open, and hoped I'd find my mate there, but the room was empty. I closed my eyes and concentrated. After a moment, I finally heard Carter's heart, beating quietly somewhere in the house. From the echo, I guessed he was in the basement. The irregular beat told how angry and hurt he was.

As much as I wanted to run to him and explain everything, I thought it may be better to let him have his space for a while. Exhaustion overcame me and I decided to shower. When I took my suit coat off, my hand bumped something. I'd almost forgotten it. I reached into my pocket, withdrew the small blue box. With dry sobs shaking my body, I walked into the closet, put the box in my sock drawer. Then I fell onto the bed and wondered what the hell I was supposed to do to make this right.



I sat on the well-worn couch in the basement and seethed. Freyr been with women, after he met me? He'd told me he'd loved me from the first time he saw me. So why would he then go and screw a… Did that mean he was bi? What that the real reason I was so mad—that it was a woman? I had been together with Alder at the time, and had no clue about how Freyr felt about me. Would I have been this angry if he'd slept with another guy?

"Christ," I said with a groan. My phone's alarm clock startled me and I sighed.

Pulling it out of my pocket, I checked the alert message:

5:00pm. Get ready for rehearsal dinner. Be at restaurant at 7:00.

"What lovely fucking timing." For a second, I thought about not going to the dinner, but Freyr and I were hosting it, so there was no way I could skip out on Greta. I rolled my eyes and went up to the bed room to go get ready.

When I opened the bedroom door, Freyr was on the bed asleep, still wearing his shirt and pants. He had curled up into a fetal position, clutching my pillow to his chest. My heart ached for my beautiful immortal. I thought back to when I woke in the hospital, and he'd told me what Alder was like, how he manipulated me and made me blind to his faults. Freyr could only sit back and watch his own brother slowly eating away at my soul. So had Freyr tried to put ignore his feelings for me by looking for love somewhere else? What it his way of coping?

I sat on the edge of the bed and brushed a lock of shaggy, blond hair away from my mate's face. His eyes opened slowly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he whispered.

I lay down next to him, still not touching, still wondering. "Tell me now."

Freyr thought for a moment, then said, "I couldn't have you. Alder had you so tight in his grip that you barely saw what happened around you. Whenever I tried to talk to you, you shied away from me. It was too painful to watch you with him, so I tried to forget about you. I tried with a few men, but every time I…" He glanced at me, seeming to ask for permission. I nodded, so he continued. "Every time I had sex with one of them, all I could picture was you under me. It wasn't working. All I thought of was you. So I decided to find the exact opposite of you."

"A woman," I stated.

He nodded. "Her name was Caroline. She was blond, blue-eyed, and had huge boobs."

I couldn't hold back my laugh. "So when you said you found the exact opposite of me, you really meant it."

"Yeah. I tried with her, I did, but it was no use. After three weeks of completely underwhelming sex, she ending up breaking up with me. She said she could tell I loved someone else. And that was it. I know it sounds insane, Carter, but I was so in love with you I couldn't stand it. I tried to run, to forget you, but my heart kept pulling me back. I know now I should have told you, but truthfully, she meant so little to me that I'd nearly forgotten her. Are you still pissed at me? I love you, Carter. You know I do. More than anything."

Gently, I pulled my pillow out of his grasp and closed the space between us. He wrapped his arms around me and took my mouth in a soft, but passionate kiss. His tongue slid over mine and I shivered with anticipation. This was what I needed—Freyr showing me exactly how much he loved me.

He pushed my shirt up and pinched my nipple, just hard enough to make me keen with pleasure. "Love you so much," I breathed as he sucked on the hard nub. "Please, Freyr. Make love to me."

We stood and watched each other undress. Freyr licked his lips and let his pants fall down to the floor. All I could focus on was the thick cock straining the seams on Freyr's boxer shorts.

"Your turn," he said with a smirk.

I began to unbutton my pants, then stopped. I'd forgotten the surprise I'd planned for Freyr that night. Sam and I had gone shopping earlier that week, and he insisted on taking me somewhere to buy what he called, "real underwear." I'd ended up purchasing several pairs, including a jock designed especially for Valentine's Day. It was hot pink, with a heart cutout strategically placed to show just a peek of my dick.

Hoping for the intended reaction, I pushed my pants down slowly. When his heart rate spiked and his fangs lengthened, I knew the jock was a hit. Freyr walked around the bed, stalking me like a hunter. Precome dampened the pink fabric as anticipation coursed through me.

He fisted his fingers in my hair and pulled our bodies together. I craned my neck up to see his eyes flash white, and he growled. "You are so fucking sexy. Lean over the bed."
I did as I was instructed and felt Freyr's fingers trailing down my back. Then he fell to his knees behind me rubbed his hands in circles over my ass. The friction created a delicious heat and I squirmed under his touch. When he spread my ass wide, and worked his tongue against my hole, I began begging.

"Oh, shit. Please. Fuck me, please." I heard the cover of the lube bottle click open and after a moment, Freyr's long finger sank into me. My dick was so hard it ached, so I buried my face in the duvet, trying to hold off my orgasm. "Now, Freyr. Now!"

The blunt head of his cock pushed against me and I made myself relax enough to let him in. He thrust in quickly, and groaned at the tight muscles clamping down on shaft. "Oh fuck, babe. You're amazing."

I pushed back onto him, and our bodies slapped together, over and over. His cock ghosted over that oh-so-sweet spot inside me and I arched my back in pleasure. The air was forced from my lungs, so I could barely say, "Come… coming. Oh, God yes… I'm coming."

Freyr pulled down the front of my jock and wrapped his hand around my cock, just as I slipped over the edge. I let out a long, low wail of ecstasy, and emptied by balls all over the bed. My mate growled quietly, digging his fingers into my hips while he pulled my ass back onto him twice more before he froze inside me. He grunted hard and collapsed on top of me, breathing hard.

It took us a few minutes to recover. Freyr turned over onto his back, and we lay there staring at the ceiling. After only a few minutes, my cell's alarm clock rang again. I laughed when I read the message:

5:45 Stop fucking your mate and get ready.

Freyr and I decided separate showers would be best. We made it to the restaurant with only minutes to spare.


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Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Wednesday Briefs - Boys of Belsmeade 29

Welcome to Wednesday Briefs! It's flash fiction, so this story will be presented in 1000(ish)-word chapters. I hope you enjoy it, and check out the many other flashers, whose links are below. You can also check out the Wednesday Briefs Blog for more info and to sign up for email notifications.

Thanks for reading!


Chapter Twenty-Nine

I stumbled backward in horror, trying to escape this nightmare. Fumaro had turned him? My father was a vampire? My brain wasn't working fast enough to process it. The count growled to show his superiority to my father. Dad shrank back.

"Calm yourself," the count told him. "Now. Do you know who you are?"

"Yes," Dad answered.

"Do you know what you are?"

"Yes, but… There's a boy."

"There's a child in the house?" Aristes asked frantically.

"No. Not here. I don't know where he is. His name is Eliot."

Aramis clutched my hand and held me back. I heard his thoughts. "We don't know how unstable he is, El."

The count hesitated. "Why do you want to see him?"

Dad looked so confused, I wanted to cry. He said, "I think he's my son."

That did it. I broke free from Aramis and stepped into the room. "Dad," I said with a wary smile. His defensive position eased a little, so I took a step closer. I heard Aramis growling behind me, but I ignored him. "Dad, it's okay."

His feet crunched on broken glass as he crossed the room toward me. When he was within arm's length, he reached out and touched my face. His fingers were colder than usual and I had a hard time trying not to flinch.

"You look like your mother," he said simply.

It was an odd way to start a conversation, but I ran with it. "So I've been told. Do you remember her?"

His eyebrows drew together. "Are we still married?"



It broke the ice, and everyone relaxed a little. I laughed and asked, "Why is that good?"

He looked sheepish. "Well, there's another woman, but not Lena."

"Who's Lena?" I asked.

The count said, "Fumaro's only child. I believe she has been handled. Am I correct, Benita?"

"Yes. She's finished."

Dad turned toward the sound of her voice and pointed. "It's you. I remember you."

She smiled brilliantly. "You do? I thought you would have forgotten me since you were mated with Lena."

He shook his head. " I didn't feel anything for her, not even during sex. I kept picturing you in my mind."

With a fiery determination, Benita crossed the room, grabbed Dad by the wrist and dragged him outside. They disappeared into the woods and I scowled. "Where the hell are they going?"

Marco laughed nervously. "Uh, trust me. You probably don't want to dwell on what they're about to do."

The thought of my father having sex made me feel slightly sick. But at least he was safe. I couldn't say the same yet for Blake's mom. He hadn't said a word yet. Epp held him tightly, waiting for any news of Lilianna.

"Check the outbuildings," the count ordered. "And bring Fumaro."

Four guards dragged a struggling Fumaro into the room. The count's fangs descended and his long claws grew. I knew enough by then to step back. He then took his brother by the hair and said, "It is finished, Fumaro. Your clan comes to an end tonight. Your daughter has been destroyed."

It was the first time I saw Fumaro's implacable mask of indifference crack. He looked so shocked that I nearly felt sorry for him. The count showed no compassion. Without another word—without offering forgiveness—he slashed his nails across Fumaro's neck. A quick twist separated the head from the body.

The count gave the head to one of the guards and told them, "Burn it. Bury the rest for now. We'll have someone come in to clean up. Any sign of Lilianna?"

"She's here, sir!" someone called across the lawn. "Becker was hiding with her in the guest house."

One vampire carried the weakened vampire into the room and laid her on a sofa. Blake knelt on the floor next to her. "Mom? I'm here. Are you okay?"

"Blake," she said. "Thank God you're all right."

He helped her to sit and handed her a bottle of synthetic blood. "You're weak, mom. You need to drink this."

"No, I can't stand that stuff."

Blake rolled his eyes. "Too bad. Drink it."

Lilianna didn't like it, but she did as she was told. After a moment, she asked, "Where's your father?"

Two other vampires dragged Lukas Becker in and threw him at the count's feet. He didn't beg or plead, but he did try to explain. "It was Fumaro who made me destroy Galen. He would have killed me if I didn't do it."

Blake turned to his father and howled in rage. "So you killed your son to save your own neck?"

Lukas tried to answer, but Blake tackled him and held him down on the floor. Over and over again, he punched his father. Bones crunched under the blows, and blood splattered Blake's face and hair. Epp and Marco finally pulled Blake off Lukas, but the elder vampire was too weakened to move far. He got to his knees and turned to his wife.

He could barely speak through the blood and broken jaw. "Lilianna, please forgive me. I've done unspeakable things, and I deserve to die, but I can't until you forgive me. I'm begging you."

Lilianna took a deep breath and said, "I forgive you, Lukas, but only because it is not my job to judge you. I will always love the man you used to be. The centuries have turned you into a monster, so filled with hatred that you don't have a shred of humanity left in you. I don't know if you'll go to hell or some other place, but I pity you. The only comfort I take is that you will not harm our boys again."

The count nodded to two of his guards. They took Lukas outside, and a few moments later, I heard the now-familiar sound of a vampire dying. Blake went to the sofa and held his mother while she sobbed in grief.

To be continued...


Don't forget to visit the other flashers!

Carol Pedroso
Cia Nordwell
Chris T. Kat
Jim Dunaway
Julie Lynn Hayes
Shelly Schulz
Tali Spencer

Sunday, February 1, 2015

Chris T. Kat's upcoming release, Bratty Angel.

Hey there, everyone! I'm so happy today to host Chris T. Kat on the upcoming arelease day of her book, BRATTY ANGEL.

A bratty angel…

First Patrick is accosted by a hellhound with a yen for fries and ketchup. Then he encounters a beautiful, but bratty angel who doesn’t seem to understand the concept of ‘no’… or personal space. Not to mention he demands Patrick pleasure him, which Patrick refuses to do. So why does Patrick feel a connection to this unruly seraphim? And why can’t he forget him?

Two weeks later, the brat is back, making more demands. But Patrick makes it clear he doesn’t do demands. That should be the end of it, right? Or not… Maybe there’s more to this bratty angel than meets the eye. If Patrick has the patience to get past his bratty ways.

Patrick rounded the corner fast, almost too fast. He barely kept his balance, groaning when his left knee twisted, reminding him that his ability to outrun anyone or anything had taken a turn for the worse. If that damn thing he'd only snatched a brief glimpse of got him, he'd be mauled and killed.

The huge, nightmarish thing panted as it chased after him, gusts of his surprisingly clean-smelling breath wafting to him. As Patrick raced through the deserted streets—because who the hell took a shortcut at this time of the night—he searched for a hiding spot. A fire ladder would work too, or whatever. Anything really, so he could put a safe distance between himself and the grotesque creature. He could have avoided all of this but, damn him, he'd indulged in his human body's desire for junk food. Next time he was going to order his food in—if he lived long enough.

Patrick's lungs burned, and his leg muscles screamed bloody murder at him. Fuck the universe for rendering him incapable of flying. He’d been trapped in this human body for twenty-three years already, and no one would ever think he'd once been strong and—best not to go there. Nothing good ever came of his memories.

Patrick stumbled, and a hot gust of air tickled his neck. He plunged face forward to the ground, all air rushing out in one short pained gasp. Reflexively he put his hands behind his head to protect his vulnerable neck.

The freaking thing growled and yanked at the bag containing Patrick's junk food. Patrick yelped when the bag tore open, spilling its contents all over.

Curled up on the ground, Patrick peeked over his shoulder when a chuckle drew his attention. Someone hunkered down next to him before gentle fingers pried the last string of the bag from his hand. Patrick gritted his teeth, wishing he was in possession of his power instead of lying there, almost whimpering in fear.

“Don't worry, he's not malicious. He just wants your fries,” a soft, melodious voice informed him. The fries-loving beast growled, sending goose bumps up Patrick's spine. The voice added, “Right. He wants your fries and your ketchup. You see, the ketchup is majorly important.”

The person who'd spoken to him withdrew, and the creature's paws clicked on the ground as it followed the voice. Whoever it was rustled the wraps of his food and talked soothingly to the yipping beast. Carefully and slowly, Patrick turned on his side to take a look. His heart thumped painfully hard against his ribcage, almost causing it to burst.

In the corner of the badly lit alley crouched something that seemed to be a mix between a large dog and a wolf, but the size of a pony. That wasn't even the strangest characteristic of the beast. No, the strangest characteristic was the dark brown, folded wings on the beast's back. That couldn't be!

Patrick's gaze traveled to the hands that dumped his fries on the torn bag, generously spreading ketchup all over them. The beast licked the hand in a grateful gesture before it dug into the food.

Patrick's breath caught when he observed the naked man who knelt next to the creature. The man's face was beautiful, no doubt about that. Patrick's gaze slid along a slender throat, finely toned shoulders, and a slight frame. A white, feathery wing covered the man's crotch.

An angel.

Chris T. Kat lives in the middle of Europe, where she shares a house with her husband of many years and their two children. She stumbled upon the M/M genre by luck and was swiftly drawn into it. She divides her time between work, her family—which includes chasing after escaping horses and lugging around huge instruments such as a harp—and writing. She enjoys a variety of genres, such as mystery/suspense, paranormal, and romance. If there's any spare time, she happily reads for hours, listens to audiobooks or does cross stitch.