What a wonderful Friday treat, to welcome fantastic and prolofic paranormal romance author, Michele Hauf! Welcome, Michele!
I love a good party! Especially when the guests of honor are flashing a little fang. But is it all right if I tote a few angels along with me? Well, one angel and just a tiny little demon. She's not that big; she won't hurt anyone. Unless she sees the muscle-strapped angel, then all bets are off. Because this demon is the heroine of my latest paranormal romance, FALLEN, and she's out to slay the hero, who is a fallen angel. Will they ever get along? It's a pretty good possibility. J
But enough about those two. This party is about vampires, and yes, there are vamps in FALLEN as well. Mean ones. Vindictive ones. The kind of vampires who live underground in the tunnels beneath Paris because they can't do sunlight. They really want to walk in the light, though, so they're trying to get their hands on a fallen angel and his muse, because when those two get together, a nephilim could be born. I promise no nephilim at this party! Because that would be the ultimate party crasher.
So back into the party groove… What I want to know is: If you were invited to the elite vampire party of the year, and could invite one famous vamp along with you, who would it be? I think I'd have to go for the big guy, Dracula, but if I could invite one of my own vamps, it would definitely be Creed Saint-Pierre (Her Vampire Husband). I have a set of my vamp stories to give away to one commenter: Her Vampire Husband, Seducing The Vampire, and Forever Vampire.
One would expect a faery fetish shop to look as though a faery had exploded all over the place, and Lyric was not disappointed. So much color hurt her eyes. The spectrum electrified, the rainbow would be put to shame by the vivid color.
No sparkles—the faery would obviously provide that—but plenty of see-through stuff in indiscernible fabrics. The walls and racks were hung with fluttery, slinky, sexy things she couldn't resist touching. Some fabrics were cool, others warm. Some liquefied between her fingers and she dropped the fabric thinking she held water, but the bright material simply dropped in a graceful sweep. Intricate laces in all colors had been fashioned into strange designs that emulated flowers, insects, and horned creatures.
The Seelie gown would have been the jewel amongst this dazzle. She hoped being here wouldn't remind Vail to get tough with her about that. She really needed to contact Leo, see if he'd been successful in his search to help her.
"This one." Vail handed her a weightless bit of fabric. Truly out of place in his dark attire and sunglasses, he commanded her attention with but a few words. "Over there." He pointed to what looked like a wall of leaves, but when Lyric approached she figured the dressing room was behind all the verdant greenery.
The dress Vail had handed her was thin and felt as if it would tear if she twitched, but it was gorgeous. A deep crimson, it hugged her body as if a second skin. It was too risqué, for her nipples were plainly visible and it had an a-line cut right across her groin that emphasized her flat belly and the place where Vail had enjoyed putting his tongue. It felt snuggly though, as if a sweater, even for its thinness.
She turned and checked out the back view in the mirror. Did her ass really look that good? Her smile reflected back at her.
Wait.
Lyric turned and pressed her palms to the mirror. Her reflection gaped at her. "I can see myself? What the—?"
Must be some kind of magic faery mirror. Or—who cared? She could see herself. She hadn't been able to see her reflection since her first blood hunger. And looking in a pool of water, which was possible, always distorted her features.
Tilting her head, Lyric smiled at what she saw. Bright blue eyes and a fine nose. Not so bad, she thought. The moment took away her breath. Even without makeup she liked what she saw.
"Not so bad," she muttered to her reflection. "Kinda pretty."
"Kinda pretty?" Vail popped his head in through the leaves, and she stepped aside to invite him in.
"I can see myself in the mirror," she pointed out the obvious.
"Yeah, it's a genuine sidhe mirror. But just kinda pretty? Lyric." Standing behind her, he slid his palms over her hips, and looked over her shoulder into the mirror. "You are gorgeous."
"It's been so long," she muttered, caught on the reflected image. Was that a tear burning at the corner of her eye?
He slicked back his hair and winked at his reflection. "Pretty damn sexy myself."
The bad boy at his finest. Lyric smirked and he winked back at her.
"So tell me why you don't do a riot of color, Mr. Dark Lord? I can't imagine black is a popular color in Faery."
"True, I identify with Faery." He adjusted his tie knot in the mirror. "But you might say I'm on a protest of sorts. I wear black because it is everything Faery is not. I don't need a reminder of what I once had."
She tapped the spikes running down his jacket sleeve.
"Well," he added, "a little flash is necessary. The mortal realm can be so dull."
She tilted her head against his shoulder. "We make a good looking couple."
"We do."
They stared at one another's reflections, and Lyric could almost imagine they were a real couple, until Vail stuck out his tongue at them both.
"Here." He reached outside the leaf curtain, and returned to hand her a pair of high heels. "I picked these out for you."
Five-inch stripper heels appealed to her inner nasty. It looked like tooled violet leather, but what kind of animal it had come from was anyone's guess. "Gorgeous," she said. "Too pretty to wear any place but…"
"But?"
She whispered, "Only place to wear these shoes is in bed."
"I can arrange for that to happen."
"I bet you can. Come out and model for me," he said, and slipped out of the dressing room.
Lyric gave one last glance to her face, winked at her sassy self, then swished aside the dressing room curtain. Striding out in the complete outfit, she posed for Vail. His eyes dropped right to her breasts, and then her slender waist, before traveling down her legs to inspect the bedroom-worthy shoes.
"Passable?" she asked, finding she preferred her reflection expressed in Vail's eyes to that of the mirror's.
He grabbed her by the neck and devoured her mouth in a claiming kiss that perked her nipples hard against his crisp black shirt. Sliding her hand down his chest, she grabbed his hip and pulled him to her, while hooking a leg up aside his thigh.
The man could kiss. Nothing tentative or weak, he took what he wanted and made damn sure she did the same. It was impossible not to like the guy, despite his wanting to ruin her life by bringing her home, and ultimately, right back to the Unseelie lord's hands.
"It's almost perfect," he offered.
"Almost?"
He grabbed something from a wall display. "I think you should add this."
Dangling from the middle of one finger sporting chipped black polish, he displayed a thin red braided collar with spikes on it. A delicate silver chain trailed three feet in length.
"I thought you said this wasn't a normal fetish store?"
He moved to put it around her neck.
Lyric swiped it from him. "I don't think so, big boy. That's not my scene."
"Come on. It's a look."
"Oh yeah?" She threaded the collar about his neck and snapped it to a snug fit. A tug of the chain pulled up his wicked sexy sneer. "Can this work for you?"
He flexed his shoulders and his neck strained against the red collar. It looked a slice of blood above the somber black shirt collar.
The vampire who could scare any mortal shitless, not to mention most other vampires, glared at her. He looked ready to blow, his eyes narrowing viciously—then he nodded. "Works for me."
To win the set of Michele's books, Her Vampire Husband, Seducing The Vampire, and Forever Vampire, answer her question: If you were invited to the elite vampire party of the year, and could invite one famous vamp along with you, who would it be? The contest closes at midnight tonight EST and the winner will be announced tomorrow on this thread.
But if he has the remote control (as most men always seem to!), romantic comedy films get switched off immediately. I've always loved the old fashioned type - like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers films. I had one of those on video that I caught my husband trying to off-load on to the local video rental shop. He claimed it was an accident. And I do like to pass an evening with a light, romantic comedy, with Hugh Grant maybe, or that one about the zillion wedding dresses which I managed to watch with a friend recently! It's not the same when the husband snores through it, though!
