A lot of time, it's something that comes up in general conversation such as the time my son was telling me that the president's limo carries three pints of his blood in case of an emergency. Tons of ideas immediately went through my mind and I blurted out I could kill him with that, thinking if an assassin got into the car, switched out the blood with a type completely incompatible then arranged a reason it would have to be used... Ridiculous, but hey, we're dealing with fiction and as long as it's properly motivated, executed and well-written, it could be done.
Research is another great way of finding ideas and that's what happened to me this weekend while looking for an origin story for my vampire society. I didn't want to go with the "they've always been here" route. Nor did I want them to be mutations or a plague or anything like that. I wanted something different and unique. I just couldn't come up with anything.
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| The idea hit me like a lance to the breastplate! |
I came up with something that I really love and has been fueling my story, actually the whole series. It's exciting and daring and I don't think it's ever been done before. I hope not!
You'll have to wait until June to find out just where my vampires came from when Bound By His Blood is released. It's the first book in my new Masters of the Night series and it's been a wild ride so far.
To whet your appetite, here's a small excerpt:
Boston, 1888
“Come on, Logan. It’ll be a grand night. It’s your eighteenth birthday. Time to become a man.”
Logan McCallister gave Joseph Kilkairn a sour look. The Scotsman was bound and determined to drag him to a brothel. McCallister wanted to go. He really did. Fear held him back.
If Father finds out where I’ve gone…
His straight-laced father would have an apoplectic fit if he knew his first born son, the one he’d been meticulously grooming to join the family shipping business, had gone to the seediest part of town to pay for sex.
Darren McCallister did not believe in crossing class lines.
The fire in the hearth crackled and popped. Wood groaned as it shifted into ash. The big house he lived in with his father, younger brother and sister was as empty and personable as an ancient tomb. None of his family had stayed to celebrate his birthday with even a special meal much less gifts or well wishes.
Not that I expected anything different.
His father ran a strict household. Frivolities like presents, celebrations and affections were frowned upon.
McCallister set his jaw as a spurt of rebellion tempted him.
One night out of a lifetime won’t matter.
McCallister shifted the perfect knot of his cravat, brushed away non-existent lint from his custom jacket and nodded his head. “All right. I’m in.”
Joseph chortled and thumped him on the back. “You’re going to love it,” he said. His dark blue eyes gleamed. “I was there last week, myself. Had a gorgeous dove named Claudine take care of me. Gor, she was something else.”
Excitement thrummed McCallister’s veins, easily beating away any lingering fear.
They arrived at Desdemona’s Palace an hour later. McCallister climbed from the coach and stared at the elegant house in front of him. A full moon washed over the two-story building and elegant wrought iron railings. Soft golden light flickered in nearly all the windows. A curtain moved on the upper right and he saw the perfect form of a woman outlined against the light. A taller male figure joined her and they disappeared from sight.
McCallister rubbed his hands together, suddenly eager to find and bed a woman with large breasts and a lusty appetite.
Joseph sprinted up the stairs and pulled the discreet gold chain near the door.
“Ready for the most incredible night of your life, McCallister?”
He grinned at his friend. “Absolutely.”
The door opened and a tall man with shoulders wider than the entry looked down at them. Recognition flickered in his black eyes when he looked at Joseph. He stepped back and waved them inside.
“Madam Desdemona will be with you shortly.”
He disappeared down the hall and McCallister stood in the entry, looking around and trying to calm his racing heart.
A flight of stairs to their right led to the upper floor where he assumed the actual bedding took place. The entry in which they stood flared out into a long and mostly dark corridor with a closed door at the end.
Sounds from around the house buffeted him. Throaty laughter and deep moans floated from above while from what seemed below, indeed under his feet, he thought he heard someone sobbing.
He frowned. “Do you hear that?”
“Yeah,” Joseph said. He rubbed his hands together. “Sounds just like Claudine when she was riding my cock last week.”
The far door opened and McCallister straightened, all thought of the peculiar sound dispelled.
Desdemona was beautiful. Tall, raven haired with a lithe, lush body revealed by the diaphanous gown she proudly wore.
The edges flared as she glided toward them. Beneath the robe, her full breasts and wide hips pressed against a white satin gown. McCallister swallowed hard. Her nipples puckered visibly through her dress.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Her throaty contralto wrapped around his cock and held fast. He prayed he didn’t disgrace himself.
“Madam Desdemona. You look ravishing as always.” Joseph bent over her hand.
McCallister thought his friend overdid it just a bit with the bowed head and near subservient posture but then she was an incredibly beautiful woman. Her eyes were a shade of blue he’d never seen before. They looked as though they were lit from the inside by flashes of lightning. Her mouth was full, lush and ruby red.
“Who have you brought me, Joseph?”
She didn’t take her gaze from McCallister and he forced himself not to squirm.
Joseph made the introductions. “I was hoping you would personally see to his entertainment, Madam Desdemona.”
Her small smile revealed a set of perfect, white teeth. McCallister found himself captivated by them. He licked his lips.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t do that anymore. I’ll be happy to set you up with one of our other girls, though.”
Joseph leaned forward. “But Madam, it’s his eighteenth birthday today.” He tossed a wink over his shoulder at McCallister. “And he’s a virgin.”
“Damn it, Kilkairn,” he snapped. Embarrassment engulfed him like a ravenous beast.
The look on the madam’s face changed dramatically. Her brows lifted and the lightning flashed in such quick succession McCallister had to look away. He suddenly felt dizzy, breathless, weak.
The madam stepped closer and curled her long fingers around his forearm while nestling her breast against him. “Is this true, Mr. McCallister?”
He didn’t want to admit to it, wanted to lie and claim he’d bedded dozens of chits. But he couldn’t. Her blue gaze demanded only the truth.
“Yes,” he said with a rasp. “I’m a virgin.”
Her smile was like a gift and she squeezed his arm before letting go. “Joseph, I will send Claudine to you. Mr. McCallister, come with me.”
Joseph hooted and pounded him on the back. “See you soon, you lucky bastard.”
McCallister followed Desdemona down the hallway, his gaze glued to the sway of her ass and hips. His hard cock bounced with each step and anticipation made his balls tighten painfully.
She opened the door, stepped through then beckoned to him. “Shut the door, Mr. McCallister and let me take you.”
McCallister carefully did as commanded, took a deep breath and turned to face the beautiful whore.
* * *
The whimpering woke him. Soft, pathetic sounds of despair bounced inside his head. McCallister frowned and struggled to open his eyes. They were gritty and painful.
Cold, damp cement pressed along his back.
He forced himself to keep his eyes open. The room was mostly dark. A single beam of sunlight streamed from a narrow slit in the wall across from him. It took long seconds for his eyes to adjust to the shadows.
Something cold surrounded his throat. His arms were thrust over his head and manacled to the hard cement wall. Fear exploded in him.
Where am I?
He yanked at his chains and choked as the collar bit into his throat. The stench of piss and putrid water rose from the ground, gagging him. He continued to pull until sweat poured down his temples. His neck, chest and arms burned from the effort.
“It’s no use,” a weary voice said.
McCallister squinted into the darkness. Three men were chained to the far wall in similar fashion. One man with golden eyes that burned like candles stared back at him. The room was too dim for any other impression but fear again shuddered through him.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Don’t know.”
A sudden cacophony of noise, voices and movement assaulted McCallister. He groaned against the painful intensity. Just when he thought he would die from the sheer volume, it disappeared.
He fell back to the wall and sucked down a deep rasp of air, shaking and shivering like a newborn colt.
The creak of wood and rusty iron sounded in the shadows. He managed to turn his head enough to see a door open.
A familiar voluptuous figure was outlined in the doorway.
“Good. You’re finally awake.”
I hope you're looking forward to Bound by His Blood as much as I am!
Happy reading,
