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You Gotta Read Reviews Admin Team
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Vampires, Retail and Mobile, AL - Oh My!
Well, I'm nothing special. My name is Diana Matthews and I'm a or rather was a sales associate at Electronic Avenue in Mobile, Alabama. Then I met Francisco Bolle on Black Friday. For those unfamiliar with the term it is the day after Thanksgiving when all of you folks are out getting deals and us retail people are working our butts off.
Who knew where waiting on one hot customer would change my life! Psst - vampire's are real. Hah! You don't believe me. That's what Francisco and Mike said would happen. But Delilah K. Stephans believed me and wrote my story. Thanks to the nice folks at Lyrical Press - Renee Rocco and Pam Tyner you can pick up my story at www.lyricalpress.com.
Seems the reviewers like Francisco and my story. Though they seem to think Mike is more interesting and okay a woman with white hair with green streaks and attitude? Yeah she's fun and my pub crawling buddy. Delilah says as soon as she convinces this Coasty that Mike is okay, she'll get her own story.
Here's a taste of my story.
“May I see them?” she blurted, as her green-gold eyes fixed on him.
“Excuse me?” The unexpected question startled him. He was unsure who or what she could mean.
“Your fangs.” Her cheeks reddened. “I mean, I’d like to see them when I’m not terrified out of my wits.”
Francisco had known the request would come eventually. It always did. But was she truly ready? “You are certain?”
Diana nodded quickly.
“Very well.” He took a deep breath, and held it for a moment before releasing it and his fangs. As the few drops of blood touched his tongue, his senses expanded. He knew, from the rapid beat of her heart, that a flood of emotions was racing through her. The bitter scent of fear coming off her, along with the minty scent of the mouthwash she’d used, filled his nose.
He saw her for the first time with the amplification of his senses. Her hair flowing around her face in unruly waves of copper and mahogany caught the room’s low light, giving it a mellow, lulling hue that was as inviting as its scent. Her hazel eyes were now more green than gold as they studied him nervously. Her skin was almost luminescent with health, youth and warmth. He imagined it would be equally achingly vibrant to touch. The minute fidgeting of her fingers and the steady, rhythmic push of the skin over her pulse focused into sharp relief, and the natural heat that left her body in alluring red waves became visible to his heightened eyes. She had never looked more alive and beautiful.
She leaned forward. Her hand came up, moving toward him. He was fascinated by the trail of red waves that followed its passing. Waves that rushed forward to caress his chin as she jerked her hand back. Francisco blinked twice, dispelling the image, and met her eyes. Not trusting his voice, he raised an eyebrow in question.
“Sorry. I was…”
“Going to touch them?” He smiled as she nodded. “If you wish to it will not bother me.” He didn’t tell her how remarkably sweet and innocent that desire made her seem or how the request filled him with longing.
She cautiously brought her hand back toward his mouth. As her fingers neared, he nipped playfully at them and she yanked her hand back with a gasp. He winked at her. They both chuckled, the tension between them gone. He held still as she scooted closer and reached out to feel both fangs, running her thumb along the sharp tip of one.
“Do you have feeling in them?”
“Like any other tooth, I have a sensation of them being touched.” He grasped her wrist to prevent her from withdrawing her hand. “However, it is unlike the sensation of holding onto your wrist.” Her fingers curled into a loose fist as he tugged her hand closer and rubbed it against his cheek. “I feel the warmth of your skin. Feel the pounding of your pulse. If I kiss your fingers…”
He brushed his lips along her knuckles. “I can taste you.” He stared at her knuckles. “The spicy sweetness of you underneath the salt of your skin.” He released her wrist, missing the warmth of her skin in his hand. As she pulled her hand back, Francisco retracted his fangs.
Minutes passed between them in awkward silence. He wondered if perhaps he had been too forward, and hoped she hadn’t felt that he had. He knew she was still nervous about his life.
“So,” she said, breaking the silence. “What happens if I tell someone vampires are real?”
“They would not believe you.” He smiled.
She shook her head. “No, I mean what would…”
He understood what she was asking. “Nothing. Most people are skeptical about anything
outside the norm. Things that do not fit into their preconceived boxes of scientific fact or religious dogma are discarded as myth, fantasy, or the ravings of a lunatic. Vampire society has learned the value of ignoring those who tell of our existence.”
Diana nodded and looked down at the small sliver of couch cushion between them.
She shook her head, refusing to raise her eyes to his.
Here it comes. She’s going to ask me to leave and not return.
Francisco steeled himself for rejection. Instead of the curt order to leave, Diana’s hand came up around his neck and pulled him forward, her lips covered his gently as she kissed him. He grabbed the cushions to prevent himself from pulling her into his arms, the hard wood frame of the sofa biting into his fingers as he tightened his grip.
She sucked and nipped at his lower lip.
He fought his desire to lay her back on the couch and rip that overly large t-shirt and jeans off her. He knew he should push her away. She could not be thinking clearly, not when moments before she had run to the bathroom.
Stop this before she goes too far.
The mental warning was forgotten as he lost himself in the spicy sweetness of her mouth. His eyes slid shut as he released the back of the couch. He followed the curve of her shoulder in a feather light caress up the smooth column of her neck into the silky softness of her hair.
Her hand left his neck and traveled down his chest, stopping at the first button on his shirt. Nimble fingers released it, then moved down, repeating the action on each button until she reached the waistband of his jeans. The tails of his shirt were yanked free of his jeans. Cool air breathed against the exposed skin to be replaced with the white-hot heat of her hands running along his chest. Still, she kept her mouth on his in a sensual and languid kiss that robbed him of the will or desire to resist what she willingly offered.
The skin of his abdomen twitched as she skimmed her hands along the opening of his shirt; it fell open and she moved up his chest to his shoulders.
He watched in amazement as she slid off the couch, moved to sit between his legs, and began to work at the buckle of his belt. Restraint reentered his brain, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her up as he stood.
“Diana, you do not know what you are doing.”