While I've been away I've missed my two hot vampires (yes, you read that right, I'm mid way through my first paranormal) Ryle and Aimery and their lucky lady Beatrice, so... I'm going to do something I haven't done before on Sunday Snog and give you a snippet from an as yet, unpublished book. But first, a couple of pics that have helped my muse.
This is a good likeness of Ryle. He's not in this excerpt, but he's the loose cannon of the two heroes, and damn sexy with it!
Brad in An Interview with a Vampire makes me think of Aimery, it's the clothes as much as anything. Read on to meet him...
I took another sip of tea and felt the heat slither down my gullet like a flow of lava. “I don’t even know your name,” I said.
“And I don’t know yours.” He tipped his head and his hair stroked his pristine white collar.
“Beatrice, or rather Bea, I go by Bea.”
He stared at me unblinking. “Nice to meet you, Beatrice, I’m Aimery.”
“That’s an unusual name.”
“I suppose it is if you haven’t heard it before.”
“I haven’t, is it foreign?”
“As far as I am aware it is a German name.”
“Are your parent’s German?”
“No, they were Norman.”
“Yes, but enough about me, what about Denny? He is our chief concern, is he not?”
I glanced at the flickering fire. Aimery’s dark, heavy gaze was like a weight on me. Not uncomfortable, just intense. “I reported him missing to the police last week, but they didn’t seem interested. Said he was a grown man and if he wanted to go walkabout then that was fine.”
“They have more important things to cope with," he said, "than looking for folk who have few friends and family and won’t be missed.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know Denny has few friends and family?”
He hesitated. “I don’t, it’s just a guess.”
I rubbed at an itch on my neck.
His gaze followed my fingertips, he pulled in a deep breath and spoke again, “If Denny had a wife, parents, brothers and sisters, you, just a friend, wouldn’t have felt the need to come into a stranger’s home to seek out information on him.” He lowered his voice. “You look like a sensible girl, Beatrice, I can’t imagine that you generally put yourself at risk like this.”
I swallowed tightly and looked into his handsome face, wondering if he was being sarcastic or genuine.
Did he mean me harm?
Normally I was pretty good with my gut instincts. But something about Aimery seemed to send them out of whack. He was devastatingly gorgeous, way out of my league I was sure, and certainly not my normal type. But there was a restrained air about him. He was cool to the point of chilly and polite to the edge of uncomfortable, as though holding back something he wanted to do or say.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out what it was he wasn’t saying or doing but, at the same time, I had to admit I was utterly intrigued.
“Go on,” he said, leaning forward in the chair. Light from the tall window behind him rendered him almost in silhouette, just a few ocher shadows from the fire glancing across his face. “Tell me everything,” he said quietly.
I cupped my palms around the warm mug I held on my lap. “Well, last time I saw him was in the market, three weeks ago. It was a rainy Wednesday morning, business was steady. Denny had been shouted at by Tony—”
“Who is Tony?”
“His boss, a right wanker.” I clasped my hand over my mouth. “Shit, sorry.”
He shrugged. “I’ve heard worse, and if that describes him in one word then so be it.”
“It does.” I nodded. “And then I was working, preparing a fillet, and I saw you. Then I looked at him, looking at you, and by the time I’d got ten steaks out of the fillet he was gone and I never saw him again.” I shook my head and gripped the mug firmer, took a sip. “He just vanished. Without even saying goodbye.” Tears nipped my eyes. I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing my best friend again.
Aimery folded his arms, sat back and watched me staring into my mug of tea. I was sure he was giving me some time to compose myself and I was grateful, I wasn’t normally a crier; that kind of behavior would render me a laughing stock at the market. “I’m sorry,” I said, blinking rapidly and refusing to let the tears spill.
“Was he happy in his life?” Aimery asked softly.
“No, not particularly. He wanted more than working in a cold meat market for the rest of his time and he also hoped to…” I hesitated, feeling like I was revealing confidences.
“Please, Beatrice, go on. If I am to help you I must know every little detail.”
I stared at him. His eyes were narrowed and his fingers were meshed tight. There was something solid and powerful about him. His calm assurance and the air of competence and determination surrounding him made my soul fill with hope, but at the same time sent prickles of apprehension snaking up my spine. He was almost too perfect to have landed right here, right now, to help me out of this nightmare.
“Yes,” I said. I nibbled on my bottom lip. The truth wasn’t easy and it saddened me to say it. “Denny wasn’t happy, in fact he was downright miserable, completely in the doldrums.”
“Why is that?” He’d lowered his voice, softened it too. It was more like a hum now, like a concerned parent coaxing a child to speak. “You can tell me, Beatrice, in fact you need to tell me.”
“Denny is gay and they made his life miserable at Smithfield.” There, I’d said it.
“How did they do that?”
“Always having a dig at him whenever they could, typical playground bullying. Calling him an up-hill gardener, ginger-beer, bum bandit, you know the sort. Ignorant and pathetic.”
Aimery frowned. “So why did he stay?”
“He had nowhere else to go, and no one to help him out of the situation. I wish I could have, but what could I do? I live at home with my dad and it’s not like I have loads of dosh to give him so he can start fresh and do the interior design course he’s always on about it”
“Maybe someone has offered him a way out and that’s why he’s gone.”
I shook my head. “No, he would never have left without saying goodbye. We were close, best friends.”
“But not lovers?”
“No, absolutely not.” I was shocked by the question and fiddled with the base of the mug, sliding my fingertip around the smooth pottery. “I just told you Denny is—”
“I know, gay. So maybe he met someone and was swept off his feet, whisked away into the sunset.”
“Do you really think so…ow!”
“What.” He was on his knees before me, reaching for my right hand.
“Bloody hell, that’s sharp,” I said, watching a ruby blob of blood grow on the tip of my index finger.
He wrapped his hand around my wrist and tugged my arm straight so he could examine my wound.
“The base of this mug is chipped.” I glanced at the smear of blood on the shiny surface. “It has a lethal bit sticking out of it.”
“Hardly lethal.” He cocked one eyebrow and swept his tongue over his bottom lip. “But I’m sorry that had to cause you pain.”
“Had to?” I frowned and went to pull my wrist from his grip.
He kept a tight hold, his cool fingers keeping my hand still and hovering before his face.
“Please,” he said almost on a pant, “allow me.” He leaned forward, shut his eyes and wrapped his lips around my bleeding digit.
Instantly I was aware of powerful suction, his tongue soft but firm as he took my entire finger into his mouth, knuckle deep.
“What are you do…?” My words cut off as a tingling warmth spread up my arm. It seeped into my chest, spiking my nipples and creating a heavy weight low down inside of me.
He continued to suck, his cheeks hollowing, his eyes shut tight as though succumbing to ecstasy. My hand felt on fire, but not painfully so, it was good heat, heat that was now burning up my arm and flooding my stomach, my pelvis, oh God, and my pussy.
I squirmed on the seat, captivated by the sensation but also needing to be free of it.
“Aimery,” I gasped. “Please—”
He slid his hand from my wrist to my elbow, bunching my sweater, all the time keeping a tight hold of me.
I felt trapped, pinned in place, but I didn’t mind. His mouth, his tongue, the soft gulping noises he was making as though drinking greedily was mesmerizing. And my pussy, the heat was intense, the pressure building. My clit was pressing against the gusset of my knickers and in turn against the seam of my jeans.
A small groan weaved its way through my throat. He responded my placing his other hand on my thigh, and smoothing it upwards, to the juncture of my legs and pressing against my clothing.
“Ah, oh, oh, what is happ—” I couldn’t speak another word. A small, trembling orgasm was ravishing my cunt. Fingers of pleasure burst outward, clenching my gut and curling my toes. I screwed my eyes shut, slumped back in the chair and dropped my head down.
As the spasms faded I was aware of the heat in my chest, arm and hand subsiding. I opened my eyes and re-focused.
Aimery was staring at me, his pupils were enormous. He kept a tight hold of my wet finger, the end now pale and the slit in my skin void of blood.
“Just as I suspected. You are truly an exquisite find,” he said.
“What, what just happened?” I was being treated to quivering, orgasmic aftershocks, my breath a little hard to catch.
“You have a very rare blood type,” he said, cocking his head and again licking his lips.
“Yes, I know,” I said a little dreamily. “I have to store some in the local hospital, my mother did before she passed too.”
“Bombay,” he said. “Truly a delicacy.”
I tugged my hand from his and this time he released me. “What the hell?” Despite feeling a little dreamy, I jumped up and scooted to the middle of the room. “How would you know that?”
“I just tasted it.” He stood also, towering over me.
I rammed my hands on my hips, this wasn’t making any sense. “No one has ever heard of my blood group, barely anyone in the world has it and if it wasn’t for some throwback gene of mine I wouldn’t either.”
“Hardly sensible to go into a profession where cutting yourself is a daily hazard then.” He smiled, almost lazily. It was the first time I’d seen him even vaguely relaxed since I’d met him.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I snapped. “Again.”
He broadened his smile, kept his eyelids heavy and reached out and stroked the back of his thumb down my cheek.
I hitched in a breath. His proximity, the way he smelled this close up—sweetly spiced, like man and sex—filled my senses. But I wanted answers. I was confused, angry, scared, turned-the-hell-on by him. How did he know my blood group just from tasting it?
“You really don’t know how special you are, do you?” he murmured.
Suddenly his lips were on mine. Lips that had been wrapped around my finger moments ago were moving, soft and pliant, teasing my mouth open. I felt helpless to resist. I didn’t want to. Aimery was class-A-gorgeous, despite his over-enthusiasm for sucking my blood.
He delved into my mouth, the tip of his tongue searching and tangling with mine.
I joined in, played the game, opened up and tilted my head to deepen our kiss. Allowed myself to fall into the delicious flavor of him and the fantastical moment.
Suddenly I remembered why I was there.
“No,” I stepped backward, away from him and toward the door. “Aimery, what are you doing? I though you were going to help me find my friend.”
“I am.” His brow creased and he rubbed his temple. “I will.”
“Come back tomorrow.” He sighed. “I will have news of Denny by then.”
“How can you know that?” I shook my head, watched him fold his long body into the chair by the fire. He crossed his legs, hooked his hands over the arms and rested his head back, as though preparing for a nap.
“I just know,” he said. “Trust me.”
“What makes you think I can trust you after…after, that?”
“Because,” he said, settling his gaze on me. “You, Beatrice, have just become my world and I will do anything to make you happy.”
My heart rate rocketed and it was going like the clappers anyway. “Don’t be so ridiculous, we’ve only just met.”
“I’ve met lots of people, and I’ve always known whether they are special within a few short hours of becoming acquainted and you, well…” He paused and folded his arms. “And you, let’s just say, it just took me a while to get past all those other smells you have lingering around you. But now I have I know that you are indeed very special.”
His riddles and over-zealous declarations suddenly irritated the hell out of me. “Oh, this is ridiculous,” I said, turning and striding toward the door. “You’re just too weird, all this smelling me and then sucking my blood. What are you a bloody vampire or something?”
“Beatrice,” he said wearily. “Don’t go, not yet.”
I turned as I reached for the handle. “Its Bea, not Beatrice. And I’m going because this is freaky. I thought you were going to help me find Denny?”
“I will. Please, come back tomorrow and I promise I won’t disappoint you.”
Annoyance gnawed at me. I pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway. Slammed it shut so hard a picture of a wolf, shot through the neck with an arrow, shifted on its hook.
I hope you liked that little snippet. Watch this space for news on BITE MARK which will, hopefully, be released 2013.
Have a great Sunday