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About the author:
What inspired you to write your book?
Nothing! That’s what makes this so magical. It came out of nowhere and turned out to be the best book I’ve written to date; simply because it pushed me out of my comfort zone.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“This is the unfolding,
of the forsaken,
creatures of shadow,
locked in a haze of unending,
with blood dripping down their lips,
looking for a glimmer,
in an eon that will never come.”
– Halona, The Second
She drinks… Blood
Okay, I think this is it. Yeah, this is the real one – the one where you’ve lost your mind. Probably out of some kind of desperation from loneliness or denial for the past four years, but the point is, what she just told me has me flipping my literal shit. I mean, anything else would’ve been acceptable; I met her online. A lot of options to come out with weird shit. But no, it couldn’t have been that she was a robot or a dude, or some other realistically acceptable weird dogma. No, my online girlfriend of 4 years, whom I’ve had the pleasure of recently meeting in person has just told, no sorry – revealed to me, that she’s a vampire. Yeah, a vampire. My girlfriend’s a vampire.
I have to take a second. This just happened. I mean, she’s perfect in every way for me, right? Denial.
Something about that kind of curious creature – that noble type with a dark past or something, I can’t help myself; it’s my ‘type’ of girl. In terms of the “scale”, from one to ten, she’s an eleven. Beyond just the words of beautiful or gorgeous. I mean this woman looks like something out of a hand-painted masterpiece from an elven fairytale. Parted, long, peroxide-blonde hair that flows down her back, greenish-cyan eyes, milky-pale white skin with a face that says both naughty and nice. It’s hard not to resist thinking that this has to be the universe congratulating you after working your ass off to get at least this little spoil.
Oh great, now she’s calling. What do I do? I locked myself in the bathroom telling her I need to think. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to all this and well; I did promise her, right in the beginning that I’d be her shoulder, so maybe I should go out there and be a responsible boyfriend. Or maybe, I might just get my throat slashed by a raving psycho. You only live once.
“I’ll be out in sec.” Still sweating cold.
It’s no big deal. Plenty of crazy things out there, right? This is just one of them, and this one happens to be someone I fell in love with. That has to count for something.
Maybe that’s why she told me… instead of killing me. She could’ve drank me. Suck me dry of my blood, or is that how it works in the real world? Not sure. Alright, go out there and do this.
Take a breath, and…
Ouh, slick tone. Let’s keep it like that
“Are you alright?” Damn, I love her accent. It’s such a noble, refined English. Clearly not her first language but the sheer try-harding from how well she wants to present herself is more than a turn on.
“Yeah, I am. Why wouldn’t I be? You showed me you’re a vampire.”
Sarcasm is a beautiful thing.
“Are you mad at me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“You’re going to have to explain to me what’s going on. Right now.”
Yes, peak her interest and make her feel you’re involved.
“More? You’re alright with this?”
Let’s just be honest here. She’s revealed a seemingly dark and terrifying secret, but when you give your heart to a woman, it’s not easy to just walk away. I’m not sure a blood thirst can break me, at least not yet, so I tell her “Yeah. I am. Tell me everything. I deserve to know.”
Or maybe, I had to play the victim.
Her gentle fingers slip into mine, and she guides me to the living room of the hotel stay where I did have my momentary freak out. You would too when you saw the fangs. They were very real.
“I wanted to tell you before, but I was not sure you’d believe me.”
That dark-red lipstick she uses to contrast her beautiful pale skin only makes me think of the things I’d…
Oh shit, “Yeah?”
“Are you listening?”
“Yes. Go on.”
“I feel like you’re different. I feel I can be honest with you.”
“So, why bring that up now?”
“This isn’t something I can tell anyone. You’re still here with me.”
“Of course.” you sounded a bit too sure buddy, “Look, I’m not sure how serious you think I’ve been but you’re the one for me. Except if you were a werewolf. Too hairy. Way too hairy…”
That’s just great, my heart’s already trying to ease me into the weirdness and I’m finding acceptance because of her casual, gentle gestures. Dressed in a purely gothic red and black corset with a long, utterly-expensive dress that could be shifted aside to reveal the garters, stockings and thong underneath and near-thigh high boots.
Who could resist such a woman?
“How does it work?” I asked, “Are you going to kill me?”
“No. I want to enjoy my days with you.”
“Right, but how do you… feed? How do you do your… vampire stuff?”
“I’ve had many years to enjoy the hedonistic, noble, shadowy life of a Cognata. Feeding these days is different. We can’t just go sucking on the blood of any stranger.”
“Why is that? And what’s a ’Cognata’?”
“’Cognata’ is the female variant of what we ‘vampires’ call ourselves. Most of your blood is toxic. Never know what diseases we can pick up. Not to mention pollution and toxic substances that people so eagerly abuse these days. Feeding openly is risky and pointless now.”
“Wait, are you saying my blood isn’t good enough for you?” Yeah, that’s right, crawl over her all sexy and make her laugh.
Tease her a bit, make her feel comfortable and let her know it’s okay – you’re her rock. You’re her shield.
“No that is not my point. We just require the healthiest of ‘donors’.”
I’m busy trying to kiss her while she’s busy trying to get my attention.
“What is it? I told you, you don’t have to worry. We can get through this.”
“I know…” She holds my head firmly, making me stare into those deviant eyes, “I must confess my true nature.”
She stares for a moment, quietly contemplating if her exposure really is the right decision. At this point I’m expecting, what, some kind of ritualistic blood-stained knife, or a stake, or a vampire hunter’s head or who the fuck knows. It doesn’t get any wilder than this.
She slides out underneath me and goes to her suitcases, then comes back with a small, treasure-chest box; a remnant of an ancient time, long ago. I knew it had to be authentic just by looking at the glimmers on it. She’s the type to hold secrets, shroud you in her mystery and before you realize it – you are already the submissive.
It’s what got me hooked on her in the first place. The thought of a woman from the dark coming to light has always appealed to me. Guess I’m a sucker for the babes with baggage. Flipside’s I might be laughably wrong and she could be a psychotic sociopath masquerading for attention. Either way, it’s pretty hot if you think about it.
“What is it?” I wonder aloud
“It’s my memoirs. Tales of the journeys I’ve been through.” She sits at the side of the couch. I understand why she picked this hotel. It’s classy, elegant and reminiscent of nobility. It echoes the posture of this woman, who by the way, told me she was only 5 years older. Now I’m starting to think she’s probably hundreds. Don’t judge me, okay?
Her head drops while her fingers run across the seeps and cracks of the old box as if she’s replaying a vision in her head and her fingertips – the cameras making that vision a reality. I let her do her thing. She knows I’m always here for her.
“Lilith…” I tried comforting her
“Stop!” She snaps, peering into my eyes, demanding I make not so much as a screech, “Don’t call me that, ever again.” she sighs as deafening silence fills the air around us – “That was only an alias. My true name is Alexia Aetheria Phokaina. I was born in the year 820 to a noble family in the Byzantine Empire. I spent my childhood years as a royalty-bound daughter of a wealthy nobleman…”
Her breasts must be almost a D cup. Full at the top with that perfect round edge…
“Samuel, are you listening to me or staring at my breasts?” Her voice shoots right into my head.
Are you kidding me? She just spoke into my head!
“Uh, how did you do that?” Seriously woman, tell me.
“I can do many things, love. Will you please listen to me now?”
Yes, yes, fine! Fine!
I nod to her request but can you blame me for zoning out? She’s a dark angel with the willpower of a queen and the danger of a succubus, ready to drag you into the abyss and yet I can’t get enough.
“Those were strange times. I did not stay there that long…” Her eyes trail to mine softly saying sorry for ranting on, then she looks back to her precious treasure box – “It’s best you know of me, the real me.”
She hands me the box, unveiling a storage of old letters, pictures, necklaces, rings and other trinkets you’d easily consider to be part of legend ole’ as the tales would go. The first piece that slips into my hands is an old letter.
“Sam…” Her hand caresses my rugged, skinny face, which probably looks like vanilla on my dark, chocolate-olive skin, “I love you.”
Why are her eyes so, how do I put it, sure and uncertain at the same time?
“And I love you. No matter what.” Words roll out. Slip off my tongue without thought.
What the hell did I get myself into?