Well, as you know I'm excited about this next book. I've been bringing you several scenes and short bits from Vampire Caprice, and right now a contest is going on over at the facebook Fan page for Sabrina Strong series for a PDF version of the book. If you would like the chance to win this prize, please do go to the fan page on facebook. Today's question is: "Rick is a supernatural. What is he?" Please go to Fans of Sabrina Strong to vote there. Good luck!
Since I haven't posted any scene about Rick, I will do so here. Hey, it might give you a clue!
While holding the brush with the toes of his right foot Rick brushed his hair and aimed the hair dryer with his left foot. His toes were long, and nimble. He could write with both hands, and both feet, sometimes at the same time, but not when he was drunk. He tried that once on a dare and had fallen off his stool—in Tom's Tavern. It had the whole place guffawing. Besides, he thought his handwriting was much better when he held a pen in his right foot than the left foot—or either of his hands. That was because he could see what he was writing. The kind sisters at the orphanage of Our Lady of Perpetual Grace had helped him develop and work on his disability when he was old enough to learn to read and write. Sister Fred was his favorite nun. She had the disposition of a saint, and put up with his horseplay, as well as the magic he could do. She'd kept his abilities a secret, saying his magic was a “gift from God”. She only knew he could move things when he was small. Now his magic was fully developed. There were a lot of things he could do now that would probably have Sister Fred second-guessing herself. But he was a leprechaun, after all, and not a rich one either. The pile of money had dried up a long time ago from the settlement for the birth defect he was born with because of the drug his mother had taken while pregnant. He worked at Tom's Tavern, and did the odd jobs for the supernatural community, here and there for extra dough. But he would be fixing that real soon with the deal Tremayne had offered him. He'd not only be able to buy everyone who ever came into Tom's a drink, but could buy it. Of course, he wouldn't do that. Or, maybe he would. Tom might like retirement if he was given the right price.
Seated on the toilet, using his hands to keep himself steady holding on to the corner of the sink and the corner of the toilet tank, his hair was nearly dry. He'd slept the whole day, and when he woke up, he felt refreshed—and no longer needed to worship the porcelain god from altitude sickness. It was dark out, too, he noticed. Chris had shown him his room, earlier, and since no one was using the shower, he had ducked in here with his shower supplies. He loved the multiple shower heads as he could aim the lower ones right where he needed them. He didn't think he'd been so clean in all his life—he felt squeaky clean. He was pretty sure he hadn't sung that well in a long while, either.
I wonder what they might have for dinner in this joint?
His relaxed thoughts were jolted when someone suddenly materialized in the bathroom with him. He cried out, the hair dryer flew out of his toes and clattered to the floor with a loud noise. Rick wound up there with it. The towel that had been wrapped around him now flopped open leaving him as exposed as a flasher. The headache he'd gotten rid of was now back because he'd hit his head on the vanity.
“Ow! Shit!” He leaped to his feet, magicked the towel back around him and stared at the huge vampire who had materialized out of nowhere. “What the fuck are you doing? You scared the crap-olla outta me!”
“It didn't work,” Tremayne said, seeming unconcerned about the situation, and chaos he had caused. He gazed down at him, then offered a hand to help him up. Rick took it but wasn't happy.
“What?!” Rick's face had gone hot, and he imagined it redder than it had been a moment ago from the hot shower.
Tremayne sighed and rolled his eyes. “I said it didn't work. That thing you did to keep me from wanting her blood.”
“What do you mean? I did like you told me. You two looked really cuddly-smoochy when I walked in the other night.”
“I couldn't be close to her without feeling the desire for her blood.”
“Well, you're a vampire. What do you expect?”
“I thought you said you could do something about that.”
“If I take away your need for blood, totally, it would be total. I don't know if I can bring it back. You don't want that, do you?”
Tremayne paused in thought.
“You don't want that. Right? You'd never want blood again.”
“No. That wouldn't work either.” He let out a frustrated sigh, raked his fingers through his golden locks.
“You might as well face it, dude. You need to find a different way.”
“I do have a few ideas, actually. I've just implemented one, and now I need you to go and get me some virgin's blood.”
“You're shitting me. Right?”
“No. I'm not. And I'm giving you less than an hour to get it to me.”
Rick sighed. “How much?”
“How much? Ah...” Tremayne's eyes darted away from him in thought. “A couple of ounces, if you can't do a whole pint.”
“That might cost me.”
“My credit's good. You know that.”
“Done. What will that do—the virgin's blood?” Rick wondered.
“Take my mind off her blood.”
Tremayne gave him a side glance. “You kidding me? Virgin anything for a man is heaven.”
“Ah. Right, right.” Rick nodded. Vampires, shit.
“Also, you have to get her to cover that ring up. I can't thrall her if she has the ring uncovered.”
“Okay. What if I make it so that she doesn't uncover it? She just thinks she did.”
Tremayne slid his eyes to the leprechaun. A smile bent his lips. “Now I know why I hired you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Now get the hell out of here so I can finish up.”
Tremayne turned to go, but stopped. “I wondered how you managed to... you know, without... you know?” He made hand gestures toward the hair dryer.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Rick snarled and pushed him toward the door. Tremayne ducked out into the hall, and Rick slammed the door on Tremayne. He bent and reached down to pick up the hair dryer. He saw bits and pieces of it scattered on the floor. “Aw, fuck.” He shook his head slowly. With a snap of his fingers, the pieces flew back together. The dryer came to life, and he magically floated it toward his head. “I knew I shouldn't have gotten mixed up with a vampire. I just knew it.”