The Vampire’s Gallery

Tags

Erotica, paranormal erotica, paranormal romance, the vampire's gallery, Vampire, vampire erotica, vampire romance

Unlucky. Unloved. And now undead.

Maria hasn’t been touched in years and sustains herself on her friends’ sexual encounters. She’s coerced into trying out internet dating, and she soon attracts the attention of a stud named Jamie. When he invites her out for a beer, she accepts, her mind focused on the one thing she wants—a warm body pressed against hers. Jamie makes her laugh and she invites him in, never guessing that he’s doesn’t want to bed her, but drink her.

The Vampire’s Gallery follows Maria as she leaves one life of dull city apartments for another of sex, sensation, and blood. She rattles the stilted hierarchy of Jamie’s home when she makes the ancient, distant vampire feel again.

But what about the vampires that surround Jamie? Who are her enemies, who are her friends, and who’s just pretending?

Warning: This book contains sanguine vampire seductions, M/F/M scenes, waltzing, and light bondage.

Available at Amazon and Smashwords.

18+

Excerpt:

He took a step away from me. “This isn’t a museum—you can touch the art.”

I made my way to the statues, and he told me, “They’re made of marble and ebony, Grecian and Victorian. They’re also my favorites. You have a good eye.”

I stood in front of the carved Jamie. A youth enervated the statue’s limbs. Unlike the man, nothing ancient hung about the marble. A gilded wreath of laurel crowned his brow, and he held a lyre. Even frozen in stone, his smile was familiar. I touched the cold lips, and behind me Jamie purred. My nipples pebbled at the sound, an icy trickle working down my spine.

His light touch skimmed up the back of my leg, sending shivers through my skin. I trailed my hand down the statue’s throat, and he moved closer to me, cupping my thigh, just below my ass. I slipped my hand lower, and his slipped higher. I arched my back, bringing my breasts against the marble and my ass more firmly into his hand.

He fell to his knees behind me, tearing off my underwear. He licked me from my clit to my quivering asshole, back and forth, until my knees trembled.

“Are you going to fall?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you feel faint?”

“No, just very, very horny.” I wiggled my ass as I spoke.

Whirling me around, he picked me up by my thighs, resting my cunt over his cock. He held me tighter as I bucked against him. His tongue was in my mouth, and as I sucked it, my fangs slid in. A strange sensation, my gums moving aside to make room for them.

“Go ahead and gnaw on me with your new teeth.”

I bit his lip, and honey coated my tongue. I moaned, suckling his lip. He pressed me to the bed and pulled my dress over my head. Jamie stripped, revealing the tight cords of his muscles, and then he was over me, rubbing his throat to my mouth. “Do you want me to drink from you, master?”

“Yes, and I’m going to impale you with my cock while you take your fill. Bite me.”

I rubbed his throbbing vein with my lips as he pushed at my entrance. I sank my teeth into him, and he thrust himself home. His blood poured down my throat like ambrosia, and I was lost in the sensation of his life flowing into me. His heart faltered, a skip, and I stopped. A fatigue suffused his limbs, and I didn’t want my master to be weak.

“Take a little more,” he said. “I’m going to have to feed today regardless. Besides, in a weakened state, I’m still stronger than any vampire here.”

I flicked my tongue over the blood smeared on his neck. “Do you like it when I nibble on you?” I asked, coyly rolling his blood vessel between my teeth.

In reply, his hips picked up their rhythm and he pushed my leg against my chest, allowing him to pound the back of my pussy. Gripping his head, I held him to my mouth and bit again. This time I drew long, slow mouthfuls, lapping at the wound between breaths.

“Yes, that’s perfect. I want you to come on my cock while I rub your clit.”

“Yes, master,” I said.

“I love hearing you say that with my dick pummeling you and my blood on your lips.”

Doesn’t he have a dirty mouth? 

Victory Swing

Tags

beer, hops, seasonal beer, swing, victory, victory brewery

After taking this picture, I drank it.

This beer tastes way punchier than it actually is–only 4.5% ABV. I had two last night, thinking I’d write a review. The only problem was, it was kind of late, and I hadn’t slept well the night before, so I got sleepy. I passed out on the dog.

“Antoinette, Antoinette! ANTOINETTE!”

Snork. “What?”

“What are you doing down there?” my husband asks.

“Sleeping on the dog.”

So yeah, that’s how last night’s review attempt went.

Before we get into this though, I’d like to take a moment to talk about that fickle flavor, hops. At it’s best, it’s floral. I’ve had drafts that smelled like pot (and I should note the plants are related). It tasted like it smelled too (I don’t know if it tasted like pot, as I’ve never eaten any). Fresh hops can be amazing. It’s a taste that doesn’t last though, as it seems to mellow to a more malty flavor, and at its worst it can be bitter and metallic. And of course, anything that relies on the bitter portion of your palette can be very subjective. What tastes like flowers to me might taste like vomit to someone else. I’ve chosen “vomit” as someone once described a case of Stone’s Arrogant Bastard to me as tasting like vomit.

Bitter floral hops overwhelms the background notes of any Belgian taste. It’s not bad though–a cavalcade of brassy horns drowning out the bass line. You’d know if it wasn’t there thumping along, but if it fades into the background, that’s okay. Very tasty, will drink again. You’d do well to pick up a case.

I should note, my husband thinks this beer tastes very Belgian.

Why it misses the mark for me, is it doesn’t have that, almost yeasty taste I associate with summer wheats and beers like Hoegaarden. Victory’s Golden Monkey is a much more Belgian tasting beer to me. Swing reminds me more of Gulden Draak barley wine without the musk and immediate drunkenness. Of course, it’s been years since I’ve had Gulden Draak barley wine, so I could be wrong.

Please Remain Seated Until the Ride Comes to a Complete Stop

I’m reblogging this, because winter sucks and we could all use a little sunshine.

Please Remain Seated Until the Ride Comes to a Complete Stop.

Those Poor, Dumb Bastards

Tags

bulbs, crocus, flowers, hyacinth, old house gardens, spring, tulips

January is spring, right?

These tulips have been up since February. Do you think the other bulbs make fun of them? Like, “Hey, look at those assholes. Yeah, it’s called winter for reason!” These Florentine tulips were up early last year too. I thought I would commemorate their journey in the sleet with a few photos. I found some crocuses and hyacinths too, though they weren’t the eager beavers like the tulips.

These striped scuppers are some crocuses. To the right I think I see another wild tulip species that’s jumped the gun–Clusiana.

I’m hoping again this spring to be inundated by the scent of fragrant daffodils wafting from this bed, but given the tunnels in the mulch, I’m a little worried. I’d be more worried, but I don’t think either hyacinths or daffodils are appetizing to pests.

I think this is the snowy L’Innocence.

Peering deep into the bloom, I’m able to catch a glimpse of the artichoke-shaped head of blooms. These heirloom varieties are the biggest I’ve seen–a foot tall. Marie is so dark, purple bleeds into the green buds.

Of course, the greatest tragedy of this weather is the inactivity our bulldog must suffer. With the backyard an utter mud hole, there are days he just doesn’t get out. The street around our house is nothing but winding hills, so unfortunately there’s not great place to walk him either. He gathers the corpses of his Jolly Balls on the back porch to remind us we’re neglecting him.

Yes I make him jump through that hoop. Sometimes I wear my fur hat and we go out in the snow. I feel like a Russian circus trainer.

Pictures taken with a Lumix camera, using a ham-fisted approximation of a titl-shift camera, and then beaten about with GIMP.

Behind the Scenes: Soda and Lime

Tags

behind the scenes, Erotica, gay, pinterest, Vampire, Writing

I start with my characters, and sometimes, I don’t really move beyond the interior of those characters. It can leave readers a little bewildered as they fumble around a ill-defined world.

To solidify things, I’ve turned to Pinterest. In my story, Soda and Lime, the characters actually undertake a journey, stopping in four location before the end. I made a board for each of them, and thought about what these locations mean.

To make this even more fun, I’m not going to tell you a lot about the story.

Seedy Nightclub

This place is really about where Brutus is in his life: he’s a forty-five year old man trolling nightclubs for booty/a vampire to slay. He’s a bit out of place here, like he is among vampire slayers, who are normally retired by his age.

John is just desperately looking for blood, but he thinks he wants sex, because no one told him he’s a vampire and he’s just kind of denial that anything weird is going on.

This setting relies heavily on how we think about nightclubs, especially seedy ones. We assume they’re for young people, and we question your motives when you go there looking for more than a good time. This location reflects the emotional turmoil of both characters.

NYC

Brutus and John are here for only a night and I wondered about making an album, but then I found drugstore with a wonderful orange and pink sign, and a coffee shop with a man and a dog. I’m going back, rewriting this bit, and I’m adding these wonderful details.

Even though their stay is brief, Brutus continues on his important personal journey of opening up to John. As they’re on the run at this point (I mean, vampire slayers are supposed to kill vampires, not sleep with them), it works well plot wise. It’s so huge they can disappear, and it’s a busy shipping port, which of course brings us right to our next setting…

The Freighter

So much happens on the ship. Brutus and John grow closer. Questions are answered: why John was abandoned. New questions are raised: what is John going to turn into that the vampire that made him wanted him dead?

It’s really one of those, “You’re smarter than you think you are,” moments as a writer, because the setting reflects the plot, the characters.

Spanish Idyll

Everybody deserves a happy ending, even if it’s a Romeo and Juliet romance. For me, this is a place that very much doesn’t really exist. It really is all those amazing digitally manipulated pictures of that album (except that facade, that facade is there because it’s gorgeous). It’s what I felt like when I was kid reading Hemingway talk about fishing with a bottle of wine, because he really loved fishing and wine. It’s afternoons in gold, and easy love, and it’s perfect happiness, and because that’s not real, it doesn’t last.

It’s the perfect setting for the last act, because you’re watching, waiting for everything to come tumbling down.

I hoped you enjoyed my post (and haven’t gotten stuck on Pinterest). Check out the other participants in Behind the Scenes:

1. Anastasia Vitsky	2. Skye Warren
3. Amber Lin	4. Karla Doyle
5. Linzy Antoinette	6. Gemma James
7. Stevie Carroll	8. Jessie Lansdel
9. Sara Barnard “party. of. six”	10. So I Said. . .
11. Siren A. Star	12. Tasha L. Harrison

Review: Lancaster Sampler Pack

Tags

beer, IPA, lancaster brewing company, pale ale. lancaster, stout, wheat

I asked my husband, “Hey, how’s the Strawberry Wheat?”

“It’s good. You’ve had it. We took a case on vacation one year.”

“Really?”

He continues, “Yeah, don’t you remember? My brother R– drank half of it.”

“God your brothers are bastards about beer. I kept telling my sister to buy plenty of cases for the wedding. Although, in R–‘s defense, he does have high altitude training.”

We discussed the drinking habits of our families for minute before I wandered back inside (I can’t remember why, but this conversation took place between the house and the garage).

A day later, I had a Strawberry Wheat, and indeed, I did recall it’s pleasant flavor. It’s less… yeasty tasting that something like an Oberon, clean and fresh and strawberry. Not sweet either. Not saccharine or overbearing. It’s proportions are just right. Delicious, but really, only one of four tasty beer.

It was the Milk Stout, a strong smokey beer from which light does not escape, that attracted my husband’s eye. It was part of xmas beer exchange they’d done at work. It makes Guinness look like a lady.

The Amish Four Grain Pale Ale is tasty and caramel, tempered by the flavor of the hops. I think it might be my favorite. It has a little smokiness to it, some bitterness. Mm… I might need another to describe it properly (I like a beer around 11, maybe another if I feel like getting tipsy).

Oddly enough, as much as I, and your average beer snob, loves IPAs, the Hop Hog is the least impressive (although if memory serves me, this beer is spectacular on draft). It’s not that it’s a bad beer, it’s just that all the other beers are really good. Not that you’re going to neglect it while drinking the other three, trust me, it’s tasty.

Bonus: Lancaster Brewing Company uses these heavy ass brown bottles. If I was in a bar fight, I’d reach for a Lancaster before a Yuengling any day.

It’s Here! Showing Off has been released!

I got to watch this story grow, from rough to final, and it’s been a lot of fun! I look forward to reading it.

It’s Here! Showing Off has been released!.

E-reader vs. Book: The Non-Question

Tags

book, e-reader vs. book, Gemma Files, Kindle, technology

I’ll admit, I was resistant to e-readers at first due to sheer useless stubbornness, a condition I’ve suffered from all my life. On the other side of things, I love my Kindle. I mean, it’s just freaking awesome. I don’t scare myself, fantasizing someone might steal my wallet, but rather that they might take my Kindle, and I won’t have anything to read, and all my notes will be gone! Actually, I don’t know if they’d be gone. Amazon might miraculously save them somehow.

To pose the e-reader and book question as an either/or scenario is silly. No one confiscated my books upon the purchase of my Kindle. I still buy books—hardcovers with glossy pages and rich illustrations, paperbacks of varying forms of decay from all manners of lineage.

Unless there’s a compelling reason to purchase a physical book (it has a lot of pictures, it’s a lot cheaper) I prefer an e-book. The simple matter is, they don’t take up any space, and I can highlight passages in them, and look up words. Yes, I’m a nerd.

I suspect I purchased A Book of Tongues by Gemma Files before there was an e-book available. The Kindle edition is $7.99 and a used copy of the book about $5.30. Add $4 for shipping, and the e-book is cheaper. I remember reading a fascinating thread/article about gay horror and the book came up (hell, the author may have been one of the people in the mix). It sounded really good, so I bought it, and took my sweet time about getting around to reading it.

This is a long way of saying, I ended up with a physical copy of A Book of Tongues. After reading two books on my Kindle, I had a moment of, “Oh yes, right, a book. This thing made out of paper and ink that doesn’t hold itself open.” Physically, it’s a pleasing volume. Not a 600 page wrist-breaker, amenable to being left face-open to mark your place (If you don’t abuse your books, how do you know which ones are your favorites?), and a decent size.

I chewed through that in about a day. Whee!

I needed the next book in the series, and I needed it now, and although I read it, and the one after, fucked if I can tell you the titles. Something about a rope. I never looked at the covers, all the times I picked up my Kindle to read them.

See, while e-reader vs. book is a silly question, the mediums aren’t equivalent.

I know what the cover of the first book, A Book of Tongues looks like (some old dude in a hat with a gun), and not just because I’m staring at it. I went through an intense period of asking myself, “Did I leave it by the bed? Do I have time to read?” Followed by, “Just another ten minutes.”

I can only tell you, that the second book (A Rope of Thorns) has a rider on it and the third (A Tree of Bones) had a creepy (or creepish) tree because I looked it up on Amazon.

When I started in on the second book, things skipped a beat for me. I picked up A Book of Tongues before I remembered that no, I wasn’t reading a book any more. At first, I wanted the story to be in a book. It didn’t help that Gemma Files kept herself amused, playing with typography, which was often a little wonky in the e-books.

Switching mediums during a series really reminded me that these things were not one and the same. E-books offer an immediacy that a paperback can’t compete with. You can’t sit on the couch and summon a book to your hand. At the same time too, despite the inconvenience of having to hold the pages open and turn (anyone who likes to read curled up in a chair with snacks/drinks/what-have-you knows what I mean), physical books offer pleasures of their own.

The typography of the title on A Book of Tongues does offer a clue about how the author feels about Italics and even Bolded Italics. When Reverend Rook preaches from the Good Book, the lettering is properly Gothic. If I were to reread the series (okay, when, because I read it too fast to properly appreciate it the first time) I’d go for straight paperbacks, because the formatting hiccups in the Kindle did spoil it for me, in that they were nearly constant.

I didn’t mind the book either, with its library stickers that I eagerly picked off. It had a nice heft, and its pages are larger than the screen of my Kindle. Hidden inside are a few really hot sex scenes. The Kindle takes all the “treasure hunt” aspect out of those moments, because if you can remember a few phrases, you can just search for it. And I can think of some right now. Made me think of Might Like You Better by Amanda Blank.

The next time I go through, giving it a closer read, I’ll probably dog-ear pages on the bottom as well, marking passages, jotting notes in the margins, and looking up weird words on my Kindle. Again, I’m a nerd.

I should note though, that when it comes to a 600 page TOR paperback or an ebook, I’ll take the ebook any day. Those bastards make my wrists hurt. Much like a new pair of leather boots, they have to be broken in.