Wednesday, May 23, 2012

WIP Wednesday – The Font

           June 29 is the release date for this erotic vampire novella.  Proofing is done as well as the cover, as you can see.  Isn’t the male model Jimmy Thomas delicious?
            Naya ‘The Font’ Woods and her vampire abductor Elisha Midyet don’t trust each other at all.  Shared pain makes for strange bedfellows sometimes:

Naya stopped, her gaze finally lighting on the tiny graveyard that lay beyond the house and barn.  Elisha steeled himself for her question, which came a moment later.  “Is that your family?”
“My wife and children.  I lost them all to consumption.  Tuberculosis,” he corrected himself.
It had been decades since the last of his children had succumbed, and yet the old grief filled his belly, grinding at him with dull blades.  Within a space of six months he had lost them all, watching helplessly as they died one by one.  And he?  Elisha had never fallen ill.  They had left him to mourn them, to castigate himself with survivor’s guilt, to drink himself stupid until his vampire maker had found him lying drunk and semi-conscious in the loft of the now almost demolished barn.
Naya’s gentle caress on his cheek startled him.  “I’m sorry Elisha.  Does it ever get better?  The grief?”
She was crying, silent tears pouring down her face, and he was reminded she’d learned the truth of her parents’ deaths only the night before.  He pulled her close, held her slight frame tight to his body.  “It doesn’t get better.  Just more … manageable.”
He’d lost so much.  So had she.  They clung together, him stroking her long, soft hair and she rubbing her hands up and down his back.  At some point during their shared misery, their lips met.  Their breath mingled.  And more than anything, he wanted her warmth, the feeling of someone else touching him, the fantasy that he was again loved and belonged to another.
The grass he laid her down on smelled sweet, though not as sweet as her flesh.  He pushed her skirt up and found she was already sticky-wet with honey.  For once it wasn’t the flavor of her blood that tempted him; he wanted to taste her other juices now.

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