Tag: love

Love At Last: Final Excerpt

Love At Last: Final Excerpt

Chapter 23

Trey

Trey couldn’t wait to get Danielle back to his place. He was anxious to see what her “surprise” was. But when he made the stop at her mom’s house, and all she came out with was her duffle bag, he was even more curious. The suspense made him incredibly horny. He was little disappointed that he didn’t meet her mom right then, but she wasn’t there. He was excited that she wanted him to meet her family so soon. He had originally planned on taking her out somewhere tonight but she was adamant about spending time alone at his place, which was fine with him. She said she wanted to cook for him which was a plus. He had food at the house, but she wanted to stop at the grocery store so that she wouldn’t use the food he bought for himself and Amir. Trey found himself ready to say the “L” word, but he figured now wasn’t the time.

She cooked him baked salmon, with roasted red potatoes and gravy with a Caesar salad. She even bought red wine to go with it. He helped her set up the ambiance: he lit candles, dimmed the lights and turned on Usher’s latest single, Climax to set the mood. Once the table was set, she ordered him to take a shower and get comfortable. He did as he was told. He put on some sweats and a t-shirt and sat on the couch waiting to see what she would do next. She took her duffle bag and hurried into his bathroom to shower herself, and thirty minutes later she came out looking like a breath of fresh air…and then some. She wore a blood red teddy with the matching panties and red pumps. Trey all of a sudden didn’t want to eat, at least not dinner. Those long legs of hers had him completely incoherent, and just the sight of her behind had him in a frenzy. She sashayed past him, smelling like night roses and sat at the dinner table. She had taken her hair down and had even applied some dark eye liner, giving her a sultry look. “Aren’t you going to join me?” She asked seductively. All Trey could do was nod and got up to join her at the table, not even trying to hide his arousal. She got up and served him his plate and then sat on his lap to feed him with her hands. “I hope your hands are clean, ma’” He joked. She laughed. “Of course they are…” she said. This was possibly the most sensual experience he has ever had with a woman. She said he was going to cause her to explode, shit, she didn’t know he was about to explode any minute. He finished his plate. “Ay, you haven’t touched yours,” he said. “You can feed it to me later.” She cooed. That was it. The gauntlet had been fucking dropped. He couldn’t take any more. With a quick sweeping motion Trey scooped her up in his arms and kissed her hard and passionately. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him back…gently biting and sucking his mouth. He almost tripped carrying her to the room.

He couldn’t get her on the bed fast enough. He laid her down, not once breaking the kiss. She was so soft and warm, her moans were like music to his ears. He took his shirt off and draped her with his body. Tonight, every question was going to be fucking answered. What she wanted he was going to deliver. Off came her teddy. Her size 36B breasts bounced free and he planted his mouth on one, latching on like a newborn baby. His hands, well let’s just say, went to work in other places. She cried out in pleasure. He took her mouth. He ripped her matching panties set clean off. Fuck it, he would buy her a million more. She opened her legs wider for him to nestle in between. Yes, tonight he was going to tattoo his name all over her body until she begged him to stop. Even if it took all night he was going to take her to the heavens and back. He was going to make her go blind with pleasure. She cried out again. Yes, goddamn it she was going to get it. He kissed her starting from her neck all the way down to her sweet spot. Damn she tasted good, he couldn’t get enough. She was going to hit a new note tonight-better yet she was going to acquire a higher octave. “OH GOD!” she cried out. Her hands gripping the sheets until they were knuckle white. “YESSSS TREEEEEEEY!” He was going to make her come so much that she was going to lose all feeling in her legs. Her cries of pleasure was his motivation. “TREY!” she screamed. Orgasm one down. Many more to go. Since he was the only one who can take her to new heights sexually, he was taking her on a trip through the universe. He was going to imprint this night in her mental rolodex, she was never going to forget it. Shit, neither was he. Her legs started to tremble. “DAMN IT TREY!” Orgasm number 2, and he still wasn’t finished. He got up and went to his Chester drawer nearest the bed to grab a gold pack, Magnum condom. She was writhing in the bed, watching him, biting her bottom lip. “Don’t worry ma’ I got you.” He said. He took of his sweats and climbed back on the bed to finish what he started. He went back to work on her sweet spot. A few minutes later, orgasm number 3. She was glistening with sweat, her lip bloodied from biting it so hard. He rolled on the condom. “You ready ma’?” She could barely speak. “Yeesssss”. He opened her legs wide and gently pushed himself inside. Good lord she was tight…almost virginal tight but she was wet as hell. As hard as it was, he remained careful but once he knew she was used to his size, he went to work. She wanted this, she needed this…said she was going to explode, well fuck it, now was the time to do so. He pushed in deeper. Again she cried out, and Trey felt her walls tighten and release as orgasm number 5 rolled through her. He kissed her neck and sped up the pace. She was everything and then some. Sensuality personified. Sexual heat magnified, and she was his. “Oh shit ma’,” he moaned as he continued to thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him in deeper. Shit, take her to through the universe and back? She took him with her. They both cried out as probably the best orgasm Trey ever experienced in his life stopped his heart then restarted it, an engulfing energy of heat and pleasure wrapped around him and poured into her, trapping them both and releasing them. Trey couldn’t move an inch. He could barely breathe. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. Her cries told him everything he needed to know. After what seemed like hours, he managed to pull himself from on top of her, and gather her into his arms. They remained nestled in each other’s warmth, surrounded to total darkness. He could feel her heart beating his against his chest; its rhythm slowly returning to its normal beat. “Trey?” she said weakly. “Yeah ma’?” “I can’t feel my legs…” Mission accomplished. He smiled. “Is that a good thing ma’?” he asked. “Hell ya that’s a good thing.” She sat up to face him. “That was a real good thing…” he kissed her shoulder. “Are you hungry? I didn’t give you a chance to eat your food.” She laughed. “It’s ok. I don’t think I can get out the bed without falling on the floor.” He chuckled. “I was supposed to be the one giving you your surprise,” she added with a sly smile. “Oh yeah? I thought when you came out the bathroom lookin’ all sexy and shit was the surprise.” He mused. “That was part of it but not the whole thing.” “Oh yeah? Well what was it?” Trey sat up. “Now, that I think of it, I am kind of glad that we skipped it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why?” “Because you would have laughed.” She giggled. ‘Well aren’t you going to tell me what it is?” She sighed. “For the last two weeks, after my class paralegal studies class, I have been going to a pole dancing class not far from my mom’s house…I wanted to show you what I had learned so far…” Trey laughed, not at her but the idea of her actually sliding down a pole. “See? I knew you would laugh…” she had to laugh herself. “I’m not laughing at you ma’, I think that is kinda cute that you was willing to work a pole for a nigga…” “Well see, the instructor does give pole dancing lessons, but it focuses more on strip teasing…” Trey chuckled at her embarrassment. It didn’t take much for her to get embarrassed; that was her most endearing quality. “You didn’t need a class to get me off ma’. You just being you is more than enough.” He kissed the top of her head. “So how do you feel about what we just did?” he asked. He was more than alright with it. He had no plans of going anywhere. In his mind she was the one; she was everything he dreamed about and then some…everything he dreamed about. He suddenly remembered where he had seen her from. He had a dream a few weeks ago about a woman that looked just like her. All he could recall was them meeting out in the city somewhere and sharing a kiss. He remembered waking up hard as hell and having to relieve himself twice before he could even get out of the bed. “If you are wondering if I regret anything, the answer is no.” She turned and lightly kissed his cheek. “I have never felt pleasure like that in my life,” she gushed. Trey smiled…a big ass nacho cheesy grin. He knew he broke her off something proper. All of that waiting and near misses and almosts really paid off. And as long as she would let him, she could have as much as she wanted. “I think I am going to feed you now,” he said getting out the bed. She could see the outline of his toned and hard body in the darkness as he put his sweats back on. “Trey, you don’t-“He turned to face her. “Ma’, I want you to stop it. Right now.” She sat still, shocked. He approached her, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You are so used to having to be the one doing the pleasing, but you don’t have to do that with me. I am into you, so into you that I don’t know what to do with myself. You know my history with women, especially Shyann. I never thought another woman would ever be the one for me and then I found you. If I like a woman, I do what most men will do to impress her. But, the way that you make me feel goes beyond like, and I am finding myself wanting to do more than just buy you roses and take you out to eat. Do you understand?” She nodded. “So just sit back, relax and for once let someone else do the pleasing. You fed me, right?” She nodded. “So it is only fair that I feed you. If it wasn’t for the fact that I just met you two months ago, I would have moved you in here so quick it would have made your head spin. I don’t know what this is between us, but the shit is strong. Six months from now, I want us to be planning our future. A year from now, I want you wearing my ring, and if everything goes right, I want you carrying my next son or daughter. If it makes you comfortable, we can slow things down but I just want you to know where I stand.” Trey stated. So far, his relationship with Danielle had been perfect. They had their moments where they would disagree but she would always come back or he would always come back and the issue would get solved. In all actuality, what they mostly had disagreements about was who was going to pay or Danielle’s independent streak taking over. He didn’t mind an independent woman, but he also wanted an independent woman to feel secure enough to let him be the man. She was pretty good with that, but she still had her moments. He knew her past was still haunting her. Hell, his was too. He hadn’t heard from Shyann since that night she dropped Amir off. And he hadn’t bothered to look for her. He knew where she was at: with that ass-wipe King. But he did need to know if she was alright. He had already asked a few of his cousins to get the scoop on what was going on with that. But with all of this going on and more he wasn’t prepared for what was going to happen next.

Danielle’s expression had softened so he almost forgot about her food and was about to take them both on a ride to Pleasureville and back. He wondered what she was thinking, until she spoke. “I think I love you Trey…” she blurted out. Trey wasn’t sure her heard her right. “What?” he asked. “I said, I love you Trey.” Damn. He knew he had made her lose her mind, but shit…”Look ma’”…”No you look Trey,” she said. “It has nothing to do with what just happened. I know how I feel about you. You are the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing that is on my mind when I close my eyes to sleep at night. When you leave, even if it’s just for five minutes, I miss you like you have been gone for twenty years. I have never felt this way even for King. Ever. We had our moments when things were going right where I felt something for him, but never on this level. I love everything about you. Your smile, the way you look when you are thinking; how you care for Amir; the way that you walk; how you carry yourself…I am anxious to meet your mom and your sisters just because I know that they love you. I love the sound of your voice when you wake up in the morning. I love the fact that you are willing to go out of your way for me…I just love you Trey, and I mean that. You have been such a gentleman with me since the moment we met it kinda scared me. Any other guy would have tried to jump my bones the first night I came here, and you didn’t. Any other guy would have seen how vulnerable I was and still am and took advantage of that, and you haven’t. So don’t even think to question how I could be in love with you when you have given me so many reasons why I am. I love you Trey.” She looked down like she always did when she was worried about his reaction. She had no idea what she just did. Trey had been wanting to drop the “L” bomb for a minute now but didn’t, thinking that she might run off. But she said it first, and she said it with so much emotion that he was devoid of any thought or reason. A few minutes passed between them before she got up and went into the bathroom. He followed behind her and listened after the door shut. Was she crying? He heard soft sniffling and the shuffling of clothes from her duffle bag. He opened the door. She was wrapped in one of his towels, her nose red and her face damp. He didn’t mean to make her cry, lord knows he didn’t. He was madly in love with her; was willing to risk his freedom for her if he had to. “Come here ma’.” He said softly. Her eyes were puffy and red which broke his heart. “Come here ma’” he pleaded. She didn’t go to him. She just looked at him. He stepped inside and took her palms in gently pulled her out into an embrace. He made her look at him. “Danielle, you didn’t give me a chance to respond. Baby, I am so in love with you it hurts. I was just in shock that you were so honest and I didn’t know that you felt that way. If you don’t believe me when I say that I am in love with you, then let me prove it to you.” He went in the bathroom and cut the shower water on. She was still standing in the hall where had left her, wrapped in the towel, holding herself. When the water was just right, he stripped down and beckoned for her to come in with him and she did. She took off the towel and he helped her into the shower. It was a bit of a tight squeeze but he was able to maneuver himself around her. He held her gaze as he took the washcloth and the squeezed out the body wash onto it. He stole glances of her body, of course and what a sight it was to see. Her sun kissed brown skin was absolutely radiant under the spray. He carefully took the towel and massaged it onto her skin and made sure to wash every inch of body. Her hair went from straight to now curly which gave her a more erotic appeal. After washing each section of her body he lightly plant a kiss and by the time he was done he had literally covered her with kisses. She returned the favor, not only showering him with the soap but also with her affection and when they were done, he did what he always did and scooped her up, taking her not to the bedroom but to the kitchen. They were both wrapped in towels. He sat her down at the table, took her plate and warmed it up, then brought it back to her, only for him to return the favor and feed her with his bare hands. All of this done in silence, She didn’t need to speak and neither did he. It wasn’t until she said she was full, is when he spoke. “Now, do you believe me?” She smiled. Of course she did. “Now I want you to remember this whenever you start doubting how I feel.” “I feel like I’m in a dream.” “So do I,” Trey said. “Where I’m from what I just did would look like some sucka shit. But I told you ma’ that I would be your prince if you let me. So, are we good?” “We are more than good, Trey…until my heart stops beating there is no way I see myself ever being without you. You know how I feel.” “Until your heart stops beating?” He repeated. “Until my heart stops beating.” Trey had to smile at that. Until her heart stops beating? Shit, that wasn’t going to be until they were old and grey. But somewhere in the back of his mind, someone was going to try to change that, and that someone had made a deal with the devil.

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Blind Salvation: Lucinda

Lucinda

Lucinda could not stop the tears from falling as she recanted the days when she had first taken a sip from the cup of true love; and what a sweet, addicting taste it was. Better than blood. The night that she had met Rothbart had changed her world forever; and despite all that she had been through she would gladly relive those moments again, even for just a short while so that she may remember what it was like to have her own slice of heaven. She had just been crowned future queen; her parents just having concluded one of the grandest balls in her honor featuring the most prestigious vampires from across the globe to offer their tribute. She was the bell of the ball so to speak, the envy of every vampire female and the object of every male vampire hoping to make a name for himself and claim a seat of power. Lucinda, daughter of Hadrian the Great and his darling wife Phaedra of the Draco line, was to be the first and only to be named Queen without a male consort or a king. It was a first of  blooded royals, and Hadrian would have it no other way. She had proved herself fit and capable to rule over the Draco line with fairness and brutality (if needed); she was fearless, strong, intelligent and strikingly beautiful. She was the eldest of her siblings, Damien barely being what humans would consider a teenager at the time and it would centuries before he became the male that the line would need to rule; and she commanded attention in the same manner her father: without effort. Life could have not been any better. She was a true celebrity of her time and it was during this time when she would have to choose what was more important: love or her family.

She had just dined on an aging man of middle class status and was parading down the dark foggy streets of London in one of the sapphire blue, silk gowns that covered the shoulders yet made a V shaped dip deep into her bosom before curving around the rest of her luscious body all the way down to her ankles. It was of course the 15th Century, a time that in her mind remains the highest peak of humanity, and of course she was barefoot, but who would dare notice at such a time in the darkest hour of night? She was sated, excited about her future and the plans she had for the direction she planned on taking her family in. She planned on going on the offensive with the Slayers; they would become the hunted until each and every last one of their heads were mounted on her bedchamber’s wall. She planned on seeking and rooting out the last known remaining werewolf clans and subjecting them back under vampire rule; but not before she successfully aligned her family with the most powerful wizard of the time: Merlin.

She had been frolicking childishly along, lost in her own thoughts and schemes when she noticed a man trailing behind her, and based off of his stealthy and carefully orchestrated movements, she could tell he was a Slayer. How ironic, she remembered thinking to herself as she continued to pretend like she did not notice him.

Her plan was to isolate him in the alley that was coming up ahead, and there she would use the darkness to her advantage and ambush him there. She could take him. He was a young Slayer too. Blond hair. Around Six feet. Bronzed skin, broad shoulders with thick muscular padding wearing nothing but a pair of plain brown trousers, beat up leather shoes that she assumed he robbed from a bum, and a trench coat that more than likely concealed dozens of weapons. He was only a few feet behind her, and she could feel his eyes burning on her. If he thought she would be an easy kill, he was going to be highly disappointed when he was resurrected however many years from now when he realized it was she who killed him.

“Milady,” he called from behind her, his voice raspy and cold…and tingly deep. She stopped and slowly turned to face him, offering her warmest, toothiest smile with a hint of fang. “Yes?” “You should not walk the streets barefoot,” he said coolly as he took his time approaching her. “You might catch fever.” She laughed. “Let us not play this game Slayer,” she said dangerously. “You know that my kind are not subject to fever.” “I am not trying to play a game with you vampire beauty,” he said once they were less than three feet away from each other. “I only said what I said to get your attention.” “And what kind of attention do you seek? Most Slayers only seek one kind of attention and many of them died once it was achieved.” “Only to be brought back to life to finish the job started,” he challenged looking at her straight in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow. “Then what do you want?” “I want to get to know you. You are like the night’s mystery to me and I want to solve it.” “The night’s mystery?” She snorted. “Can you blame a lad for trying? I just want to get to know you. Why would I hunt the very one who makes my heart quicken without a trace of fear or hatred? Listen. I know you can hear it.” She did not want to and told herself that she should kill him and be done with it but she listened anyways. His heart did  beat faster and when she took a moment to closely examine him, she realized that he was strikingly handsome. His features were fine and full of youth and promise. His cheeks lightly flushed, and for a man who was probably older than the city’s oldest senior his face was baby boy soft. Not a trace of hair. He stood there, without a weapon drawn, waiting for her to hear his heart beat and he smiled when she did.  “Why would you want to get to know the very thing that you love to kill?” She asked, unsure of where this was going and where it could potentially go. “Because when I look at you, I see more than the strength of a bloodline that has survived centuries of hunting and killings from Slayers. I see a woman, divinely created in search of the one thing that she has yet to find just I have searched and have been unsuccessful…” “And what is that Slayer?” “That one thing that can stop and restart time and give hope to the hopeless all at the same time: love.” She scoffed  and laughed and dematerialized quickly leaving the Slayer standing in the dark alone, baffled by his obvious sense of buffoonery. Little did she know she would see him again. And again. Always after she had finished her hunt . She knew that he was watching her, studying her, and working desperately to capture her attention…something that she began to find quite endearing.

This went on for months, her parents none the wiser. They trusted in her ability to hunt alone, without being accompanied by an escort or even going as far as to have her prey waiting for her at their castle.  Rothbart seemed to always be waiting in the shadows until one night when she lured him out. Dressed in a petticoat, her red hair free and flowing in the gentle breeze of the night, she sat on a park bench listening for her latest victim. She could sense Rothbart’s presence somewhere in one of the nearby thickets and called out to him, tired of the game. “You can come out Slayer,” she cooed. “There is no point in hiding when we both know that I know you are there.” He slowly emerged from behind the thicket, his hair damp from perhaps showering before stepping out to begin this routine of theirs. Dressed in what she noticed were new breeches with a wine colored tunic, it warmed her to know he dressed to impress her. He did not look so…ratty. As a matter of fact, he looked quite handsome. “Join me as I wait for my meal,” she said with a sly smile.

He cautiously inched his way to the park bench and took a seat, less than a breath of a hair away from Lucinda. The instant that their elbows brushed each other, the connection was breathtaking. She hissed slightly as he jerked. “What is this magic you bring Slayer?” She demanded, rubbing her elbow. “The magic I bring to you princess is that of my heart,” He responded calmly. “How do you know my station?” Rothbart sighed and shook his head. “I tire of these games. Ye be Hadrian’s daughter. How could a Slayer not know that?” When she did not answer immediately, he continued. “Are you mated?” Her eyes narrowed but she answered, “No.” “But you are to be queen and you have found no mate befitting of such station?” “You ask dangerous questions Slayer,” she hissed. “Indeed. Have you a fear of the male species?” She growled. “I fear nothing!” “Then, why do you push me away?” She turned her head, debating on simply dematerializing but then changed her mind. “Do you not find me attractive?” He asked innocently. She tried to maintain the resolve to not look at him but he pressed her again. “Lucinda, tell me you do not find yourself attracted to me and I will leave you alone forever.”  That made her turn her eyes to meet his, and the moment she did her heart began to beat erratically and her breathing slowed. His mouth, lush and pink and full-how she wanted to press her mouth against his and taste the sweet nectar that she knew he had to offer. He stared at her in a way she had never experienced, not even from her own kind that made her body crave something much more carnal than blood. “What do you do to me?” She questioned as she lost herself in his hypnotic stare. “Nothing. Yet.” His last statement shocked and aroused her, and being a virgin vampire she could only imagine the things that he would do to her. “I am a Royal Vampire in all manners. My bite is-“ “I am immune to your bite,” he said. “My father would not approve,” she said, thinking about the punishment she would face if her father found out about their brewing forbidden relationship. “Does your father make the final decision in everything?” If his question was meant to provoke her, he succeeded. Her nostrils flared and her face turned beet red. “No. If I am to be queen then I am free to make my own decisions.” He smiled, displaying a perfect set of white teeth on a strong, chiseled face. “Then are you saying that you are free to choose me vampire?” For the first time in her 200 years of living, she smiled genuinely. “I am. But the question is do I choose you Slayer?” He held his grin, his eyes twinkling at her question. “Then choose me vampire,” he whispered. “Choose me and I can show you what the love of a man is like. You vampires are so cold and calculating. Let me warm you with my love and you will never regret it.”

Since that meeting on the park bench they stole whatever moment they could with each other and a few weeks later, Rothbart made love to the virgin vampire; opening her up to all of her secrets and mysteries that came with a female-human or not, and she gave him her heart. He even surprised her with a small cottage that he purchased on one of the more secluded areas of London. Their affair lasted a good five years before its discovery, and once it reached Hadrian’s ears he launched an attack on the Catholic church of London, nearly razing it to the ground. He stripped Lucinda of her title before the courts, humiliating her in the worse possible way and sent her to live across the seas to Romania for a time being. Hadrian almost lost his life to Rothbart, had one of his men not sacrificed his own. Her father had sent her away so quickly that she did not have time to send word to Rothbart her whereabouts and by the time she had discovered the nature of the results of her affair, Rothbart had all but disappeared. She was under close guard for a good decade before she was trusted to be on her own once again, only for her to find herself forced to marry Alexander and what was once her throne handed over to Damien. She lost everything all because of what the man she chose to love was: a Slayer. And now, this same Slayer, sought vengeance against her family because he too suffered a broken heart.

She concluded her story with a sob and once she was done she dematerialized to her room where she could finish morning the loss of something she knew in her heart she would never experience again. A part of her hoped that the saying about vampires only loving once was false; she wanted to love again and she hoped that if such a second chance existed, that it would not end tragically and that she too could look forward to a happily mated life filled with babies and dreams for the future. Damien simply did not understand his blessing.

Blind Salvation: Final Damien Excerpt

Damien

She saw him– that was all he could think about as he carried his woman into the closest room with a bed. His parents were right behind him and when Lucinda had emerged from wherever it was she had been taking refuge and joined them. He kicked down the door and forced himself into one of the servant quarters, which was no bigger than a walk in closet with a single bed, and a sink. The room looked a lot like the prison cells seen on the show Locked Up but he didn’t care. He needed to get her on a hard and flat surface; at least he thought that was what he needed to do. Her scent, that citrusy fragrance of hers had thickened; not the same scent that indicated her arousal but that single identifying smell that separated her from the rest…the Fae. “What happened?” He asked his father, his mind racing with worry. “I don’t know. I have never seen a Fae/Seer mixture before…never seen a Fae mixed with anything combo. I wish I knew son.” “She saw me…” Damien whispered awestruck. “She did. She saw all of us.” Hadrian replied as he leaned his muscled frame against the doorway. “What triggered it?” Damien asked as he gently brushed a stray hair away from her face. Phaedra frowned and glanced up at her husband who simply shrugged,” Fear.” Kennedy moaned and before groggily sitting up. Damien glared at his father who again simply shrugged before turning around and walking away dismissing everyone as if that were in fact a kingly thing to do.

He helped her rise, and she rubbed her eyes and he could tell she was trying to force whatever it was that happened to happen again and when it did not, she hung her head in disappointment.  “Are you alright?” Phaedra said softly, her voice filled with concern. “Yes, I am. Thank you,” Kennedy nodded. “I will have the staff prepare you a meal,” Phaedra continued. “What will you like?” “Uh…” “She doesn’t like fish or anything sea food.” Damien answered. “Ok, well how about a turkey sub on wheat? Rodger makes a sandwich so divine that if I were to allow him he could put Subway out of business.” Phaedra bragged. Lucinda, who had been peaking from the other side of the door way the entire time, chuckled. “What do you know about places like Subway mother? You hardly leave the house.” “Who needs to leave the house when you have cable and a culinary genius at your beck and call?” Phaedra said playfully. “Bring her to the kitchen so that she may eat. Hunger may be the cause for some of the fluctuations that she is experiencing,” Phaedra ordered right before she poofed herself out of the doorway.  “I don’t know what happened Damien,” Kennedy said sadly. “I saw you-“”-I know.”  “What’s wrong with me?” Damien glanced over to where his sister was standing and clearly taking in the moment. Her grey eyes were filled with unshed tears that she quickly wiped her way, her pale cheeks red and her expression sullen. He mouthed, “What’s wrong?” And Lucinda’s response was her disappearing into the nothingness. Damien sighed. “We are trying to figure that out love,” he said cupping Kennedy’s face. “You know what I wish I could see once more?” Kennedy said, her mouth brushing the tips of his fingers, sending an erotic chill throughout his body. “What’s that?” She raised her eyes to meet his. “Your eyes. I love your eyes. The blue is deep and unfathomable, like you.” Well what could he say to that? Nothing. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips before helping her to her feet.

And so the light fell in love with the dark, even though it was the light that could not see and it was the dark that bathed in the sun.

He held her hand in his and once their fingers were intertwined, a sense of peace flooded his senses. And somehow, he knew that this was meant to be.

Blind Salvation: New Character Alert

Rothbart

Using his sword, he sliced the head clean off of the Night Stalker and stepped back to watch it disintegrate onto the floor. The fifteen or saw Night Stalkers that were in his presence looked at each other with unease. “I had her!” He bellowed as he scanned the creatures that stood before him seeking another victim. Instead, he kicked an old woodened table and sent it crashing into a wall. He was back at the abandoned cellar of an old Victorian styled house that had become his home. Stupid Night Stalkers and their aversion for sunlight; sometimes they proved themselves to be nothing more than useless and this moment was one of those times. He should have just broke into the house and grabbed her himself but then he knew he would have had to come face to face with Lucinda and he was not sure if he could steady himself in her presence.  He punched a hole in the wall, the plaster exploded from the impact. That blind woman-no that Seer would have been an excellent bargaining chip to lure that arrogant prince and then his father to their doom.

“We can attack the mansion as soon as the sun sets,” one of the Night Stalkers, the oldest of the bunch who was once a lively man in his late thirties and a promising career in politics from the 18th century suggested.  Rothbart eyed him hatefully but did not say anything. He could attack the mansion tonight and while the Night Stalkers offered a useful distraction he could go inside and retrieve the Seer and ultimately lure the prince to his death. And after the prince, the King…followed by the queen and then… he shook his head. As much as he hated Lucinda for leaving him with a bitter heart he was not sure if he could bring himself to kill her. But, he could make her suffer.  “Leave,” he commanded the Night Stalkers who did not hesitate to relieve themselves of his presence. “Return as soon as the sun sets,” was all that he said as he watched them head into various parts of the house to hide from the last few remaining rays of the sun.

He dropped his sword, a hand- made blade constructed from the fiery embers of the Vatican made from the finest of alloys and then blessed by the Pope himself, and slumped on the ratty green sofa he had purchased over 40 years ago. The thought of Lucinda always sent him down a road of memories he unsuccessfully tried to bury deep into the black box he held under lock and key. But it was too late. He closed his eyes, and trued to distract his thoughts with remembering when the last time was he had taken the time to shower. It had been days-no, weeks maybe? He ran his fingers through his thinning blonde hair and remembered how Lucinda used to do the same. On nights when he could steal her away from the responsibilities of a future queen, they would secret themselves away to foggy streets of London, laughing and joking and headed wherever they pleased, and she would find that moment when he would lose himself in her grey eyes and run her fingers lovingly though his hair to the very tips.

How he missed those beautiful eyes of hers…and that thick mane of red hair. He used to lay it across his chest after several rounds of love making, while she cuddled next to him talking about the burdens of the throne and how demanding her father had been. Damien had been a fledgling then-the equivalent of a teenager, and Rothbart looked forward to those stolen moments with the vampire who had not only stolen his heart but his soul. Making love to her had been an experience that was irreplaceable and since their split he had not lain with another woman since then. She was insatiable and sensual-the perfect mix and it had been he that had taught her what she probably now used to entice her male suitors. It was he, Rothbart, who had been her first.

He grimaced at the memory. How could a love so perfect end so tragically? He was more than willing to leave the Order just so that he could spend his days and nights with her. He would have gladly turned a blind eye to the mess of Night Stalkers that her people carelessly created just so that he could build a relationship with her father, the King. And, then when he died and was reborn a few hundred years or so later, he would have come back to her…their love would have never had to end. But no, she would always be “Daddy’s Perfect Princess”. His blood would never be good enough for her and who he was would never be accepted, even if he did put down his sword. She had to marry a vampire. He wondered if she was married even though she was pretty much dethroned and replaced by her brother. He wondered if she truly loved her mate and if she ever truly loved him. He seriously needed to get it together. He needed more time. He would not attack the mansion tonight. Lucinda was what the Seer was to the prince: his life and his death. He still had plenty of time left to exact his vengeance.

Blind Salvation: Kennedy

Kennedy

Kennedy was not sure what to think. It was common for Marisol to do a drop in but this was a really inconvenient time. She had two vampires in the house and she definitely did not need any more complications. But then, she could not hide the excitement of her best friend being able to meet the man-well vampire- that had pretty much stolen her heart and saved her life in less than a week. Hubert barked in excitement as she opened the door and she could see the shadowy outline of her curvy friend. Marisol wore her hair “big” today: it was a wild, giant mass of dark tightly coiled curls that sat proudly on top of her head and surrounded an oval face, tanned skin, thin lips and a single dimple. Marisol leaned in for a hug and then stooped down to pet and rub the all too eager Hubert who panted and wagged his tail so hard that Kennedy was scarred he was going to tilt over.

“I tried to call you girlie,” Marisol chirped. “But you-who the hell is that you have hiding in your house?” Marisol all but swooned as she took in the full visual magnificence that made Damien, Damien. Kennedy turned to see him standing a few feet behind her, right at the entry of what was the living room. Of course what she saw was a shadowy outline but then, for just a second, she could see in color the most handsomely chiseled face grinning at her. And then there was those midnight blue eyes that stared straight into her, piercing more than just her heart, but the very fabric of her soul. And then it was back to shadows and outlines. She blinked twice.  “Well aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend Kennedy,” came that smooth velvety voice of his interrupting her thoughts. “Oh yes! I’m sorry,” Kennedy chuckled awkwardly. For a second, she could see clearly. She saw his face and lord he was beautiful and he wanted…her. She beckoned for him to come closer and he took her into a full embrace. “Marisol, this is-“ “Her mate” Damien replied before realizing that he used the wrong terminology. What did humans call each other? Marisol chuckled. ”Mate?” “He means uh, boyfriend,” Kennedy said trying to laugh it off. She would definitely have to school him on some common human vernacular and terms.

Marisol offered her hand for a shake, one in which Kennedy could tell Damien was reluctant to accept. “I was just stopping by to invite Kennedy over to my family’s place for dinner. Alejandro-“ Damien frowned and held Kennedy possessively at the mention of another man’s name. “Who is this Alejandro?” He heard himself say. Kennedy laughed. Marisol glanced at Kennedy awkwardly, giving her a puzzled expression. Kennedy simply shrugged. She had no idea why Marisol would bother to mention Alejandro’s name. She had no interest and never had any interest in dating her brother. He was a nice guy but… there was no chemistry there, well at least on her part. “Alejandro is my brother and he had asked me to stop by and see if Kennedy would come by,” Marisol said carefully. “My dad is cooking this time and he said he needs an unbiased connoisseur of his cooking to judge his ‘culinary mastery’-his words. Alejandro thought-“ “Well, she isn’t coming,” Damien said firmly. Kennedy gently released herself from Damien and softly placed her hand on his cheek, a gesture he welcomed wholeheartedly. “It’s ok Damien. I got this.” She turned to her friend who was glaring at Damien as if she wanted to give him a piece of her mind. “You know what Marisol? I can’t tonight. Damien and I were about to take off for the night-“ “Are you ok?” Marisol said, returning her heat seeking glare to Damien who offered her one back and she backed away to the door. “You know what mija? Just call me. I will tell my dad and Alejandro,” she said with more emphasis on the ‘dro,”that you had to do a rain check. I will save you a plate.” Marisol was out of the door before either Damien or Kennedy could reply. “That’s your best friend?” He said skeptically. “Hey, you did come off a little strong…” Kennedy said calmly. “And why would Alejandro-“ “Look, there is and will never be anything between me and Marisol’s brother. The man has always had a soft spot for me but I see him as nothing more than family.” Shaking her head and feeling a mixture of emotions that she was ill prepared to deal with. She needed to go back to why Damien had been in her room packing her things.

She inched her way past Damien and journeyed to her parent’s room to find the shadowy figure of Lucinda resting comfortably on her parent’s bed. “Has dinner left yet?” She said sarcastically. Kennedy just brushed her off. There was no way she was going to deal with that right now. Suddenly she felt overwhelmed and trapped. She could feel Damien’s presence behind her and even though she was annoyed with him, she could not stay upset with him. Spoiled prince. “Please don’t be angry with me,” he said apologetically. “I just don’t like the idea of another man being with you and enjoying your company.” She smiled. ‘It’s ok Damien. But try to chill. I don’t want her thinking that I am in a controlling relationship where I am being abused.” “I would never hurt you!” Damien exclaimed, outraged. “Well in a lot of human relationships, women sometimes find themselves in the presence of men who beat them, control them and just do horrific things to them.” “Damien would hurt himself before he hurts you,” Lucinda interjected. “And now that we have that established, Damien please take note that the sun will be setting soon and Rothbart has been parked outside of this house for God knows how long. We have to go.” “Who is Rothbart?” Kennedy asked. “Kennedy, before your friend rudely interrupted us I was about to inform you that a man, a threat to my kind has been spying on us.” Damien tried to explain. “Why?” “Because he is a Slayer and that is what he does,” Lucinda added, sounding as bored as ever. “I will take care of you. I promise.” Damien swore as he closed her suitcase. “So how do you plan on transporting her out of here?” Lucinda asked getting out of the bed. Damien frowned at Lucinda whom like always, smiled at him pleased with his response. “Damn it Lucinda! Can’t you at least be of some assistance?” Damien spat. “Call father. Have him send an escort. You can’t dematerialize you, her, the dog, or her things… and neither can I .”  Kennedy could feel Damien’s gaze and the subtle realization flooded her senses: Once she left this house, her life would never be the same. “Hubert! Leash!” she called to the retriever. She slipped on a pair of flip flops and Hubert hurried over to her with his leash. “Call whomever you have to call. We are ready to go.”

Blind Salvation: Damien

Damien

He made it to the mansion with just a few minutes to spare. He had just enough time to shower and dress and as he entered his version of King Louis XIV luxury suite of indulgence, he found his sister, the ever beautiful red haired beauty and royal princess Lucinda casually sitting on the edge of his 16th century styled poster bed. She glanced at him with a slight smirk on her face, looking as devious as ever. Dressed in a midnight blue strapless Christian Dior gown, she crossed her legs and eyed Damien with a look of suspicion. “You have been with a human,” she said still smiling. “I can smell her all over you. The night of the presentation and you fulfill your carnal desires with a human…” “Get out of my room Lucinda,” Damien seethed as he walked right past her and into his walk in closet that was the size of a one bedroom apartment. “Why are you acting so testy?” She teased as she slithered behind him to antagonize him some more. “I am sure father would be quite proud to know…” “As the future King of this bloodline I can do whatever the hell I want. The only thing I am obligated to do is marry the shrew and eventually give us an heir. Now get out of my room Lucinda!” Baring his fangs at his spitefully wicked sister, he turned his back to her in his continued search for something to wear. Unmoved by his anger Lucinda took a seat on a crimson red ottoman that was situated nearby and regained her composure. She fiddled with her hair which hung down loosely in a side ponytail that was curled at the ends. “My husband would have made a fine king had daddy changed the laws of the monarchy,” she said finally. “Alexander is a fine vampire who values civility and the rightful order of a society…” “Yes, well Alexander should watch himself,” Damien warned. “I have heard of his proclivities and you would have been better off marrying a Lycan than the likes of him. Hell, Rothbart would have been a better choice for you…” Lucinda gasped at the name. “Don’t say that name again in my presence.” She demanded. “Why?” Damien turned to face her. Her demeanor had transitioned from pretentious and snobbish to ghastly pale and frightened at the mention of the Slayer’s name. “You are the reason why I am even in this position. Yes, dear sister did you think I had forgotten your silly little games you played on the Slayer? The same Slayer that hunted our bloodline to damn near extinction and who left his mark on Father? You are fortunate that father did not kill you for the deeds that you have done. So, for you to come in here and taunt me about my personal affairs you should be residing in eternal hope that I do not exile you to destitution and have your precious husband executed on the spot!” Lucinda’s perfectly symmetrical face had turned beet red at the memory. Her wolf grey eyes had glittered with unfallen tears and she placed her face in her hands. “I really did love him Damien. It wasn’t a game.” Damien took a moment to study his sister and based off of her scent he could detect no lie. “Yeah? Well, tell that to Father because Rothbart has returned.” Lucinda wiped her face and stared into Damien’s midnight blue eyes. “I hope you killed whatever human you were with tonight,” she said. “I can tell by your scent that she is more to you than what you are willing to admit.” Lucinda stood up and strengthened her resolve. “If you care about her you would have killed her because now that you are about to meet your future queen I will leave you with this warning. Please consider it a parting gift from me because after tonight Alexander and I are leaving Brigewood forever. Guinevere is not the feeble minded, socially inadequate shrew that most of the members of the aristocracy believe her to be. I met her a few times and she is sadistic and evil and power thirsty. You are a prize to her: a hard earned prize and she will not settle for being second place in your life. She intends to utilize her role as your wife to its fullest capacity. Do not underestimate her.” Lucinda turned then dematerialized to the Great Hall in the house leaving Damien alone with his thoughts. He found the old world suit and tie that he was looking for and made his way to shower off the remainder of Kennedy’s mouth -watering fragrance before heading down to meet his Fate.

As always Damien was dressed to impress with his black tux and Prada’s finest leather Oxfords. With one quick glance in the mirror, he could not help but admit to himself that he looked like a living god. His long raven hair was freshly pulled back in his signature braid, the tux fitted his muscled form to perfection. Yes, he was definitely eye candy and Guinevere should feel honored that he was forced to be in her presence. He dematerialized to the Great Hall where his father and everyone in his family’s bloodline were waiting. The Great Hall, the largest room in the house was where his parents hosted many a dinner. The seating amounted to 300 and tonight it was filled to maximum capacity. Decorated in Old World Medieval elegance themes with two banners representing both families (Damien’s being red and Guinevere’s being bright green) mounted on opposite walls facing one another, Damien sighed at the spectacle.  Seated at glass tables with expensive linen’s draped across the top, each of the 300 or so guests represented every well known fashion designer from Christian Louboutin, Christian Dior, Coco Chanel, Giorgio Armani, Versace, and Marc Jacobs just to name a few. The female’s kept their gowns simple, most of them strapless and of varying colors. Most of the males were dressed in a tux and carried themselves with an air of regality that one would have thought they were in the presence of kings-not one king. The servants had worked tirelessly at preparing a feast that was fit for an emperor: serving the finest of fish, chicken, wines and a variety of side dishes that would make the Food Network look like a dish served in the local school cafeteria. Then of course, on each of the dining tables that could seat a total of ten people were helpless and very terrified and nude humans tied down as offerings for the supposed to be special day.

Working his way through the crowd he said his hello’s and performed the appropriate greetings to everyone according to their station before he finally made his way over to where his father and mother sat. His mother, Phaedra looked as divine as ever, an exact replica of her daughter, the only difference was the black mole that sat proudly above the right side of her mouth. His mother was known for uniqueness among the vampire race: she was not bloodthirsty, she did not take pleasure in terrorizing humans and she even held a certain level of respect and sympathy for them…except for tonight. She could not afford to make her husband of 600 years appear weak in front of hundreds of vampires vying for and secretly plotting for his position. He kissed his mother lovingly on the cheek before bowing to his father who gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement. “You made it on time,” Hadrian said feeling pleased with his son’s obedience. “I had no choice,” Damien replied as he took a seat next to his mother who gently patted his hand. The human male that was tied to the table and gagged gave Damien a pleading look, which Damien ignored. After tonight he was definitely going to feed. “Where is the wench?” Damien asked suddenly feeling irritated. His father laughed heartily. “She should be coming down soon, son.” “And then can I go?” His mother gave him a surprised look. “Damien, Guinevere is a lovely female. Why would you be so anxious to leave?” “Because Damien’s loins are calling out to him,” his father chided.  Damien ignored his father’s reproach and focused his attention on the door fifty feet ahead of him. He hated his life at this moment. He honestly did. If his father- and just then the door opened and everyone in the room fell silent. A tall, slender built female with magnificently dark hair and emerald green eyes met his gaze. She wore a forest green gown with thin straps that barely supported the most exquisite set of breasts that Damien had ever laid his eyes on…next to Kennedy’s of course. Her neck was bare and from her ears hung a pair of diamond earrings that illuminated a blinding sparkle. A knowing smile greeted him, as if she knew everything there was to know about Damien’s past, present and future; and she took her time approaching his table. Her father, Stefan, walked proudly behind her, his long blonde hair sprawled out across his shoulders giving him the resemblance of a lion instead of a proud and respected vampire. Her mother was as tall as she with equally magnificent dark hair that kept wrapped in a bun and she wore a simple black gown that gently caressed her small ankles as she walked. Guinevere was definitely excellent eye candy and clearly she found herself a stylist to make her look presentable for this occasion. But, as Damien watched with dread as his future wife proudly approached his table, his chest ached for only one woman: Kennedy.

Once she had finally reached the table where Damien and his parents sat, she bowed respectfully to Hadrian, and then Phaedra and finally to Damien. When her eyes met his, her irises lit up with desire and Damien respectfully smiled at her. Realizing that his enthusiasm was not the same she averted her eyes to the floor and she straightened her stance with her father guiding her over to her seat next to Damien. Hadrian stood up and proudly bellowed to the crowd, “To the future King and Queen of our glorious bloodlines! May they have many heirs and a prosperous existence!” The crowd erupted with cheers as champagne glasses were passed around. Damien was not in the mood to drink anything. He could feel himself being watched and he turned his head to face Guinevere whom had been studying him as she took a sip of her champagne. “Am I not to your liking milord?” She asked plainly. Phaedra turned to look at Guinevere who gave an awkward smile and a raised glass. Phaedra glared at Damien who simply shrugged and returned his attentions to the crowd.

It was a good while before the cheering and clinking of glasses abated and then once Hadrian was finished giving his speech addressing the importance of bloodlines and unity, only to conclude on a high note of praises towards Stefan and his family could they eat. Becoming more frustrated and irritated by the minute, Damien eyed the human hungrily and before the first plate of food was served to his table he savagely bit the frightened human. He tore deeply into the man’s jugular and with vicious pulls he drank the life forced that helped him deal with his irritable mood. Once he was finished, Damien raised his head to notice everyone in the room staring at him, even his father and mother who gave him a look of surprise and horror. Guinevere smiled and followed suit, dropping her fangs, the strike was swift and hard into the man’s thigh. Soon, a feeding frenzy erupted and Damien took this an opportunity to leave.

He dematerialized to his room where he found his phone hidden behind a desk and hooked up to a charger. There were no missed calls and then just as he was about to search for the name of the only woman he could think about came a familiar scent. Guinevere had followed him. He bared his fangs in annoyance as she took form in front of him. “Who is she?” She demanded. “Why are you in here?” He snarled violently. “Who is she?” She demanded again. “I am to be your wife and you have done nothing more than look at me with unfortunate dismay as if I were some human!” She screeched. “I don’t even know you and you are acting as possessive as a fool in love you delusional twit,” he snapped. “I am required to marry you, and if you thought that by acting as an insecure teenaged girl in the throes of a tantrum was going to make me look at you with anything more than dismay you have another thing coming.” Well that got her attention. “I will have you know that this is as much as a sacrifice for me as it is for you.” She retorted. “No it isn’t,” Damien replied coolly. “You and your family are elevated from that lowly station that you were given-for goodness sake Guinevere you get to be a queen with every right and privilege afforded to that title. So what exactly are you sacrificing? And whoever this she is that you keep inquiring about, well there is none. So, with that being said, why don’t you remove yourself from my presence before you embarrass yourself and your family any further than you have already.” Tucking his phone in his pocket, he disappeared out of the room to another, more remote location in the house leaving a furious Guinevere trembling with rage and mumbling a vow of vengeance. “I will find out who this woman is Damien.” She inhaled deeply and smiled. Guinevere’s family was legendary for their ability to track the even faintest of scents, which was how her father had found favor with the king.  Guinevere stalked out of Damien’s room with a twisted smile. “Let the games begin,” she mumbled to herself.

Blind Salvation Excerpt…

Damien

Damien sat parked in front of the monolithic mansion that happened to be his parent’s not so humble abode. Yes he was of royal blood but damn it was the only mansion of its size in Bridgewood. They would have been better off living in Beverly Hills where they would have been able to fit right in with the narcissistic and self- indulgent celebrities and plastic surgeons that took up residency in that superficial town. But his parents had an air of arrogance and regality that put even people like Kanye West and Kim Kardashian to shame. They insisted that they not even breathe the same air as those miserable and feeble minded humans. His father, who happened to be the King of their bloodline, even went as far as to threaten to eradicate every last one of those so called celebrities that lived within a 20 mile radius of their home. And so Bridgewood was the choice.

Of course, they had the mansion built a hundred years before Bridgewood blossomed into existence and simply made renovations to every decade or so to ensure that it is appropriately modernized. Flash-forward to present time, the Bridgewood Estate as it has been dubbed in the local paper had over a hundred rooms and every amenity known to human and vampire. Every once in a while some nosy reporter will come knocking at the gate demanding an interview with the owner only to either never be seen again or his memory scrubbed which has protected the family for centuries. Now, the mansion has become the focal point of many horror stories both published and produced on the big screen and sometimes Damien wished his family would just return to the Old Country where everything was simpler and less complicated.

Damien sighed. He was still hungry but after abandoning the blind woman to her own devices, he decided to just go home. He could eat there because his mother kept a room full of willing participants that would be more than happy to quench his thirst. His parents could not figure out why he felt the need to go out and hunt at all when their staff supplied them with everything they could ever need or want. But nothing could replace freedom.  His thoughts went back to the blind woman and made a mental note to return the following night. He entered in the code to the gate and drove his very expensive 2015 custom painted blood red BMW in and went straight to the underground carport.

The underground carport was a quarter of a mile west onto the estate, beneath a row of various trees and greenery that made their back yard look like a damn forest. He parked into the discreetly marked driveway and pushed the button on his phone and became as still as a statue as he and his car slowly began to submerge into the ground. It was two minutes before his car was safely parked in the cavernous underground that looked more like one of those subway stations in New York. His father’s luxury car collection was parked down there along with his mother’s black Lexus. His sister’s car was the same model as his only hers was white and he unintentionally parked right next to hers. Great. Lucinda was home.

20 feet away was the elevator that took him straight to the first level of the big house. His room was on the third floor, way at the far end and overlooking the trees. He needed to get away from everyone and everything right now. It was simply one of those days. Or nights. Whatever. Once on the first level, he walked quickly in hopes of bypassing his father’s office only for his attempt to be thwarted when his father called his name. Begrudgingly, he went inside, dreading whatever it was father felt important enough to tell him. “Yes Father?” He said stepping foot into the immaculately kept room that was filled with books, a coffee table, a desk with a matching leather seat, desktop computer with a fax machine and colored printer. The color scheme was crimson and gold, his family’s colors and behind the desk sat the undisputed King: his father, Hadrian.

Hadrian was a menacing looking vampire and his looks matched his talents. His hair was kept in a long single braid and the color of a raven like Damien’s. Instead of dark blue, his eyes were an abysmal black and a long scar extended across his face from left eye to the right side of his jaw and whoever was fortunate enough to claim that victory was no longer walking this earth. He never retracted the four inch fangs that he used many a time to rip out the throats of enemies and prey and Hadrian, despite the deep scar still remained youthful. Even at 700 years, not a single white hair. He was as tall as Damien but his brawn was much wider and thickly muscled. He was a warrior back in his prime and which lead to the many disagreements that he had with his son.  “I have made arrangements for you to marry Stefan’s daughter, Guinevere by next spring. It is time you started taking your role in life more seriously and the next step is to bring more strong vampires into the world by birth and not those pesky little night crawlers that for whatever reason keep popping up through your bite. I told you to be careful with that son…humans and their immune systems are weak and disease prone. We cannot have our food populations diminish because you can’t remember to kill them afterward.” Hadrien waited for Damien’s response and after it dawned on him what was being demanded from him Damien exploded. “I don’t want to marry that simple minded twit of a vampire! She has the personality of a rock and there is nothing we have in common. Why can’t you marry off Lucinda to some schmooze who is desperate for the throne-“ “You will marry Guinevere or suffer the consequences of failing to do so! By law you are to marry who I tell you to marry because you are our bloodline’s future king Damien! I should have married you off a hundred years ago. I think I have given you enough time to live as you want but you have responsibilities to attend to.”  “I care not for the throne father and you know it.” Hadrian glared at his son who glared back. Damien could be as stubborn as him sometimes but this was serious. He would hate to have to punish his son for failing to follow his orders but unfortunately he knew that was what he was going to have to do. “You have 24 hours to come to a decision Damien and I expect it to be the right decision.” Damien stormed out of the office without another word. There was no way around his father. They could argue from sun up to sun down and nothing would change. His father’s word was final. Hadrian returned to his seat in front of the computer screen and continued responding to his emails without a second thought.

Damien marched down the winding corridors to another elevator that led to his room. Out of all the vampire females his father could have set him up with it had to be Stefan’s daughter? His father must have owed that tired old coffin a serious favor because Guinevere was at the bottom of the social barrel when it came to bloodlines. Sure she was easy on the eye with jet black hair that she wore hanging loosely to her waistline. Yes she had eyes that shown like emeralds and soft alabaster skin. But she was a fashion failure; all of that beauty and could not figure out what to do with it. And no grace to go with any of it. She barely uttered a word and was basically the laughing stock of his race and he was being forced to wed her? Damien shook his head. His father said he had 24 hours to come to a decision, so Damien figured it would be best to make the most of the 24 hours. But first he needed to feed. He made a quick right to one of the many rooms bypassing the servant quarters, then the kitchen and finally to his destination: the Blood Room. Yanking out a set of keys from his navy blue slacks that he bought from Nordstroms, he unlocked the door. On all four walls in the secluded room hung at least 30 humans of varying ages, races, and gender. They were barely alive, having only being fed though intravenously and some of them were slipping in and out of consciousness. In the beginning they were willing participants, until the realization that they would never see the light of day again and then terror struck and all hope dissipated. This was almost more cruel than stalking a victim and brutally sending them to their death. Waiting to die was much more torturous. He selected the Goth chick with the smeared dark make up and short black hair. Like the rest of them she was nude and semiconscious. Her body was not image perfect: she was disproportionate, and he could tell that she was not really meticulous when it came to personal hygiene. She had scars on both of her wrists from frequent cutting which made Damien not feel so guilty about what he needed to do. Not that he ever felt guilty about having to feed, but with this victim, he could tell that death was what she wanted. What she craved. And he was going to give it to her. He didn’t bother to unchain her, he bit her right where she hung. The strike was swift and hard and she screamed out in shock and horror awaking the other humans who were awaiting the same fate. They screamed and struggled against their chains in terror but to no avail. Once he was finished, he left the now dead Goth right where he found her. He ignored the panic stricken cries from the remaining 29 victims and wiped his mouth. He needed to freshen up first and then he would return to that two story flat where the blind woman and the dog resided.

Another Excerpt From my Upcoming Book: The Family Curse

Another Excerpt From my Upcoming Book: The Family Curse

“Hey Anya,” I mumble as I stalked passed her and I quickly slumped down on the beige recliner that my mother had purchased from Living Spaces. It was against her taste but she found it useful after a long day at work. “Hey Rita,” she said softly. “So, I’m the only one who was kept in the dark huh?” I so was not in the mood to deal with Anya’s feelings. “No Anya you and I both were in the dark about everything. I only learned of mother’s true identity but two days earlier than you and not from her. This weekend has been a weekend of revelations unfortunately and before you ask, no I did not know Nino was a vampire until recently. And it was not until the day before that that our mother went from a regular diminutive but successful real estate agent to freakin’ moon goddess. And oh, yeah I glow too…” I did not mean to come off as harshly as I did but what my mother had done was team too much. Not only had she withheld important family secrets but now she went after my fiancé like a deranged lunatic. Nino had done nothing to deserve that and just because her relationship with Ambrogio was not the fairytale ending that she had hoped it would be does not mean that she should talk to the man like he was dirt at the bottom of her shoe. Our relationship had seen better days as it was and it most definitely did not need this. Anya sat quietly, I suppose taking things in. Her bare intricately decorated feet tapped the floor anxiously while she smoothed her perfectly thick and flat ironed hair into a messy bun. “You glow?” she finally asked. “Like a goddamn night light,” and after those words left my mouth my skin began to illuminate a soft white glow instead of the mellow violet color. “And apparently I change colors too.”  Anya’s eyes widened and my Aunt Luna let out a low whistle. “Yup, you got the brunt of your mother’s gifts there,” she said brushing a stray hair from her heart shaped face. “And your mother’s moods too,” Aunt Brielle added.  “Anya has the gift of persuasion…just like the moon she has the ability to sway one’s emotions and moods into her favor. She also can control the tides and force the moon to reveal itself whenever the need arises. I am surprised she has not met a man with a little werewolf in him. They would  be the perfect match,” Luna smiled. “Did you find yourself having to deal with constant headaches?” I ask Anya who was just kind of sitting there like she was in a trance. And then I cannot believe that I had to ask my sister that. I should have already known the answer but instead I had to ask her as if she were some distant relative whose life I had to catch up on through small talk. I did not realize that until now. Perhaps we were both entirely too wrapped up in our own personal lives that we forgot to maintain our sisterly connection. “Yes. I had been dealing with migraines for years now and as of late they became more frequent. I thought something was seriously medically wrong with me because-“’It felt like your entire cranium was going to explode?” I said finishing her sentence like we used to always do. She smiled. “Yes! Girl, I thought I was going to die until Lucien” (her boyfriend) “took me to his mother’s and his grandmother gave this herbal tea that his family has used for generations to aid in ailments.” A strange thought popped into my head when she mentioned her boyfriend. I wondered if he was supernatural too. “Is he,” I began cautiously, “Uh…like Valentino?” “If you mean if he is supernatural,” my mother finally decided to chime in,” he is not vampire but he is something else. Or, OF something else. I believe his family is of the Fae.”  Fae? As in Tinkerbelle and Peter Pan? What the hell has this world come to? “A fairy.” I say plainly. “Well I’ll be damned…I attract vampires and my sister loves fairies.” “Don’t allow the title to fool you. The Fae are formidable by nature and once upon a time were great warriors. Now, their numbers have reduced so it is saddening.” “I did not know he was a fairy until he told me and when he did I thought he had smoked something he shouldn’t have.” Anya chuckled which made me smile. We really need to catch up.

Aunt Brielle slid over to one of the wooden barstools that my mother kept in a perfect line behind the counter. Even though there was not much distinction between my mom and her sisters, it was obvious Aunt Brielle was the wild one. She cut off all of her except for that in the middle and wore it hanging, flat ironed straight to the side as was the current hair trend. She had dyed the tips a radiant blue which went well with her creamy taupe skin tone that I am sure drove all of her suitors wild. Even as a ghost or apparition she looked much more alive than most of the human women I have seen strolling around here like they have permanent chip on their shoulders. Standing at 5’5’’ and a hundred or so pounds, and wearing one of those colorful strapless sundresses, Aunt Brielle was stunning and again I began to question if I myself was adopted.

Aunt Luna was no slouch either with her killer curvaceous body, thick dark hair that she kept in a single long braid and warm smile. From what I was told during my younger years she had caught the attention of not only professional men such as doctors and lawyers, but she had caught the eye of a few celebrity men who were more than happy to escort her live on the red carpet. Angelina Jolie would have not been the happily committed woman she is today had Aunt Luna decided not to go with her heart and accept Dr. Richard’s proposal. I’m just saying…Miss ‘Gelina needs to count her blessings. Unfortunately, the engagement to Dr. Richard did not last long due to my aunt’s current half state of vampirism, so the relationship could not work out. Dr. Richard was a prominent plastic surgeon back in the day when plastic surgery became the new thing and once he found out that blood had a little more meaning to Aunt Luna than donation purposes he was gone. At least, that is what I was told.

It had been years since I have seen Aunt Brielle and even longer since I have seen Aunt Luna. I might as well find it safe to assume that her diet may have had something to with it. We all just kind of sit there lost in our own thoughts for a minute. It was Anya who broke the silence. “So, what is going on with Aunt Minerva? None of us have seen her since God knows when and now all of a sudden things seem to be spiraling out of control.” I nod my head in agreement while my mother and her sisters glance at each other as if trying to figure out who is going to speak first. “Well, Minerva is an evil bitch,” Aunt Luna seethed. “Luna!” My mother and Aunt Brielle shouted in astonishment. I could not believe it either. Well tell us how you really feel Aunt Luna. “I am not going to beat around the bush with it nor am I going to continue to cover up the fact that Minerva is absolutely evil,” Aunt Luna said unapologetically. “I love my sister, but the person that we grew up with is gone-long gone. She is a dark witch and has been for centuries. She is the reason behind why I am living a half-life as a vampire, why Brielle is pretty much a ghost, and why your-“She turned to point at my mom who just stood there with a stone face, “daughters are in danger. The sad part is you may not have enough time to prepare them for what she may do next…” I got the impression there was more my aunt wanted to say but she thought it best to keep whatever it was to herself. “Rita, tell us everything Nino told you. I gave them the basic run down but I need for you to fill in the gaps.” My mom said pointedly. I sigh. None of this would be happening if this bull crap had been addressed long ago. But, I sit up straight and take a deep breath and begin. “Mom, Valentino is Ambrogio’s nephew. Valentino and his entire family were cursed with vampirism because of Aunt Minerva.” “WHAT?!” Aunt Luna was the one to shout now. She jumped up and sat on the arm of the recliner on which I sat and looked at me with so much disbelief I thought she believed I was lying. “What I say is true. The curse not only befell Ambrogio but on his immediate family: brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews. I assume it was only the first generation that was affected.”  “That cannot be…” Aunt Brielle said, stunned. “I believe it,” my mother finally said, refocusing the attention back to herself. “Minerva was just as in love with Ambrogio as I was when we were working in the Temple of Artemis. She tried everything she could to break us up and she pursued him with relentlessness that in all of my years of existence have yet to see again. Sometime before Ambrogio befell the curse, I remember Artemis chastising her about practicing white and dark magic and told her that if she continued to do so she would banish her from her temples forever. But, what I believe what really sealed the nail on the coffin was when Minerva walked in on Ambrogio asking for my hand. She stormed off after swearing vengeance on both of us when Artemis reappeared and cast her out of her temple. A year or so later, Ambrogio was cursed and it was over a hundred years before Minerva and I had contact again. But I did not know that Ambrogio’s entire family suffered from it too…” “This makes me wonder if Valentino knew who you were the entire time Rita,” Aunt Brielle said looking at me with sympathy in her eyes. “He clearly knows or better yet, knew the history on our family prior to meeting you. He could have had an agenda all along.” “If he had an agenda then why would he tell me the history of my family instead of it coming from anyone of you?” I shot back. “He opened up and told me the truth of who and what he is while all three of you just sat there and allowed me to fall in love with a vampire. Suppose he did have less than honest intentions? Then what? You would be too late!”  My heart was pumping a thousand miles a minute I was so damn mad. How dare they? “Rita-“ Aunt Luna pleaded. “No, don’t Rita me!” I snapped, directing my glare to my mother whose eyes narrowed as if she was open to my challenge. “All three of you allowed Anya and I to walk around unaware of who and what we are without thinking that about the laws of attraction. Did you ever stop to think about the possibility of either one of us attracting another supernatural entity? I mean, with us being freakin’ demi gods and whatnot, did you honestly think that we would fall in love with normal humans? That there wasn’t a risk that something from another realm would be drawn to the powers in our veins?” It pissed me off even more that no one said one mumbling word. Not even my sister. So I continued with my rant. “And another thing: you allowed the very individual that we are running from to block our memories and our powers; allowed us to suffer through migraines so excruciating I thought I was having an aneurism for what? Suppose Nino did drain me dry upon the first encounter…What would you have done? Or what if Anya, met someone with evil intentions like Minerva, then what?” “Rita, we-“ Brielle tried to explain. “No,” I said, trembling with pure fury. The soft white glow that I emitted earlier had brightened tenfold which was an indicator I was losing it. “Rita, your light!” My mother shouted hysterically. “No mother,” my voice grew grave and ominous and echoed throughout the walls of the house. “You judged a man that has done nothing but protect me despite what he is. You have not even tried to get to know him. He sent me here to be with you to ensure my safety while he deals with his very dangerous, very blood thirsty, vampire family who would not have hesitated to feed from my veins just to get a taste of power. So, let’s make one thing clear: Valentino is not a threat. Minerva is. So, we are either going to discuss the next course of action on how to deal with her or I am going to go back to my big beautiful house in Malibu and figure stuff out on my own.”  The silence that permeated the room was as thick as a red brick house. Aunt Luna and Aunt Brielle looked away, reluctant to look me or Anya directly in the eyes. My mother, the great and all powerful Selene; Goddess of the Moonlight stared at me with tears threatening to break through the wall of carefully placed emotions. “Well I am sorry for only wanting to protect the only children that I was blessed to have,” her voice was barely a whisper, but it could still be heard with perfect clarity. “Excuse me for wanting to give my children a sense of normalcy that I no longer possessed and have not possessed since the day I set foot in the Temple of Artemis.”  Aunt Luna went to my mother with a gentle attempt to calm a growing storm. “Forgive me,” she said, her tone gaining strength with each syllable. ”Forgive me for protecting you with everything in me. Forgive me Rita…for wanting my daughters to know what it’s like to be human.” Well I will be…what could I say to that? I was angry. I felt betrayed. I was hurt. And confused. And incredibly drained. And afraid. And my mother was all of those things and then some. So were my aunts. If my Aunt Minerva was strong enough to give my mother, a goddess, pause, then there was something to think about. “I don’t want you to hate me Rita,” my mother said struggling to maintain her composure. “And, you are right. Valentino should not have been the one to tell you. I should have told you. I owe him a sincere apology, just as I owe you and Anya my apology. But right now, I have to go speak with Artemis…Until I return this house is under heavy guard. No one is to leave and no one is to enter.” And with that, my mother vanished into thin air. I did not know she could do that. The way that I felt, I did not know much of anything. I hoped that wherever Nino was, he was fairing much better than me.

The Family Curse Coming Soon!!!moon goddess symbol imagesH4IBRIFH Must use as cover for Family Curse

Love Will Remember

There is something about you that has made me question the boundaries of my sanity for months now. You have sparked quite the conundrum in my heart; somehow, you worked your way into the very chambers that I thought I had locked for someone else, found the key and let yourself right into the doorway of my soul. I told myself that it was nothing more than a crush that would go away at some point…quickly I had hoped. But then, I found myself daydreaming about your presence to the point of madness. Is it obsession? No. I do not claim you nor do I hope to claim you or mark you as my eternal territory. I wanted-no I want to set you free. I don’t want you to fall victim to my love; I want you to find yourself. Explore. Fall in love with someone else. Not me.

It is unsettling to remember the times when you were not the object of my affection; but even during those times, there were moments when I felt like I knew you. I knew you. One upon a time in another life I knew you. My soul recognized you in a different form from a different present. I may have marked you as mine from long ago, but in this present you do not belong to me. You can NOT belong to me. Perhaps in another life, under different circumstances we can reunite. If I didn’t forget you in the last meeting we shared I will not forget you in the next. I suppose that in this lifetime there are lessons that we did not learn in the past and we must face them now so when we meet again, we will be better equipped to deal with this eternal burn we have for each other.

The bass of your voice awakens me; renders me your servant. Only you can do that. Only you can call forth what I keep hidden from most with very little resistance. I told you once before that you know me. You may not have recognized my voice but your soul remembered. If I managed to love you past a lifetime then, I will love you past a thousand lifetimes from here on out. So, go. Please. And do not look back until we have breathed out last breaths in this lifetime. Live. Grow. Time separated us by a few years for a reason… and our purpose is not for each other but for someone else. I will see you soon in Forever.

-Delizhia.

“Love will remember you…and love will remember me. I know it inside my heart,
Forever will, forever be ours,
Even if we try to forget,
Love will remember”- Selena Gomez

My Author Bio

There is not much to say about me. I wish I could say with honesty that writing was a destiny that simply fell into my lap; that I was meant to do this and in the next year or so my name will be written on the skyline; that I will be sitting on Oprah’s couch on her Next Chapter; and my work will be the next block buster. But I cannot. I will not. I am a 28-no excuse me, 29 year old woman with a long list of dreams and goals that have only been recently introduced to the light. So, what is there to say about me? Well, I used to write poems that eventually turned into song lyrics back in my teen years which led me to believe that I was going to be a ghostwriter for the likes of Destiny’s Child. Clearly that never happened. Just like every other passing whim of a dreamy eyed girl those words disappeared back into the ether perhaps to be syphoned back into the third dimension by some other dreamer with the heart to pursue their vision.

And then I unwillingly became an adult: and one can only guess how the cycle went; relationships, a relationship that eventually led to a child and a tumultuous road of ups and downs and disappointment. And then I got over myself and picked myself up. I put away the pen and sought more practical pursuits like giving college a final attempt. I decided to go through the for profit route: Westwood College. There, I was able to receive my Bachelors of Science in Criminal Justice in three years leaving me feeling like my victory in accomplishing something was hollow. Now what?

I drifted. I did what adults have to do to take care of their families. I struggled, and in that struggle forgot about my ambitions on changing the world through some sort of activism to just hoping to land that position that would provide me with the stability that I was searching for. Throughout the pursuit of my education I was encouraged to write. “You’re an excellent story teller,” came one instructor. “Help me with my paper,” came a fellow student. I know, I know how does this relate to this particular point in my life? Looking back, I remembered. I remembered how much I enjoyed a good read. I remembered the many nights that my muse would haunt me with visions of vibrant and amazing characters begging me to bring them to life; to give them a story and a name and a purpose. I fought with myself; denying this sudden urge to become my own creator because I did not believe that I could write; and that my writing could affect someone somehow. I jotted down my ideas lest they end up forgotten and kept them safe until I was ready.

So, I bought a laptop, and it could not have come at a better time because as I was struggling with a great deal of emotional conflicts, I wrote an urban drama entitled Love At Last. Once that was accomplished, I gave one of the most challenging characters I created her story in Nubia Rising. As a fan of the L.A. Banks Vampire Huntress Legends series, I was inspired after her death in 2011 to create my own heroine. A heroine that would live on long after my time on earth is complete; and in that discovery, and in all of the hours of reading and research and bible studies (yes, Bible studies), I found her path which inevitably is my path.

My journey as an author and as an individual rests within that of the supernatural; the paranormal; the abnormal; the shadows behind every single myth and legend and conspiracy one could find. My goal is to blur the lines of the literary world… to challenge its fears of what most would think to be the unaccepted. So, now that I have introduced the first chapter in my life, only God can write the next.

*Check out my first published e-book Love At Last on Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/NubianNeteru*