It’s almost time for another installment in THE CALLING vampire novels! FATE CALLS is a novella in HOLIDAY WITH A VAMPIRE, a December release for Silhouette Nocturne. I thought I’d leave you with a glimpse of this novella before I take a little break — until October 20th!
Why so long? Well, there’s a conference coming up and a special anniversary trip I’m taking with hubby and so I’ll be a road warrior again. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to post, but will try. However, I will definitely be back on October 20 and to keep you all busy until then:
A BLOG CONTEST! Leave a short comment on today’s FATE CALLS blog about one of your favorite holiday memories/traditions. Comments may be posted until midnight EST October 19th. You could win an autographed copy of BLOOD CALLS, a CALLING T-shirt as well as a SOUTH BEACH CHICAS CATCH THEIR MAN T-shirt.
Death and destruction were the only Christmas gifts that Fate had ever brought.
Now Fate had delivered to Hadrian yet one more Christmas calamity — a group of bell-ringing do-gooders who had set up camp across the way from his brownstone, disturbing his daytime slumber and a good chunk of his nights.
The clang-clang-clang of the bell would begin mid-morning, slipping into his brain as he rested after a long night of prowling the Manhattan streets. Low and sporadic, he could drive the noise out of his head for most of the day, until dusk came and with it, the ringing rose, insistent. Demanding. Followed too often by a cheery greeting laced with enough sweetness to curdle the meal his keeper brought him at rising.
For weeks Hadrian had told himself that he could outlast them. After all, he was a vampire elder and had survived nearly two thousand years of even greater challenges.
But there was just something about that damned bell.
Hadrian jerked off the bedcovers and strode to the window, glanced at the Santa-suit wearing tormentor standing in front of the public library on the street below. Little to discover about the Santa as he stood next to a collection kettle. Arm merrily shifting up and down, calling to the passersby to leave a small donation for the homeless.
The soft rasp of knuckles came at his bedroom door. His keeper, George, bringing a snack to help drive away the lethargy of his daytime respite.
“Come in,” he called out, but as George wheeled in the cart bearing the gold chalice filled with a bit of warmed blood, Hadrian waved him off.
“Thank you, George, but you may take it away.”
He smiled as he peered down at the Santa again and said, “I think I may be dining out tonight.”