As promised I've got another titillating piece from the up-coming Vampire Caprice.
I wanted to share a few pictures with you of the area that this book takes place. I had to snag a few from the Pikes Peak area to give you an idea of what it looks like, if you missed any of the other posts I did, here is a link to the last one "The Vampire Lair", and from this one you can hop over to the first one.
|Garden of the Gods, Colorado Springs|
|Rockie Mountains, Colorado|
Well, here is the sneak peek into Bill's inner turmoil...
from Vampire Caprice
Bill awoke with a start. Sitting up in bed, he gulped in air. He ran his long fingers through strands of wavy brown hair that had fallen over his eyes. The sheets were soaked, and his shirt was off. When had I undressed?
More disturbing, his wings were unsheathed. An escape reflex. It had happened often when he was a child, after a nightmare. But never as an adult. Why now?
Shaking himself from the dream, and an inexplicable fear, it took a moment for Bill to recognize the motel room, and a few more seconds to remember exactly where he was. The lights from outside slanted in like a beam, where the curtains didn't quite meet in the center, and along the edges.
It took a full minute to remember what state he was in—Nebraska. Meanwhile, the dream still lingered with intensity, making it feel too real.
Yes, of course. The dream. It had come unbidden again.
“Celeste,” he murmured, still running his fingers through his damp hair, like it would help clear his mind of the dream that wanted to re-run again and again through his mind.
Why am I dreaming of her? Of that night...
He knew why, if he were honest with himself.
He shook his head wanting to rid himself of that particular memory. He felt like a dog with a flea in a spot he could not scratch.
Something softly touched him on the arm. He jumped, and glanced to his right. It was a secondary feather from his right wing.
He swore under his breath. Then chuckled lightly. Get hold of yourself, Bill. Reaching back, his fingers gently stroked his primary and secondary feathers. He found them slick with perspiration. He would have to let them dry before re-sheathing them. There might be a few that needed tending to as well. He may have bent them during a fitful sleep.
He scrubbed his face with his hands, feeling the stubble of his beard, and let out a frustrated hiss. Throwing off the sheets, he reached over and turned on the lamp near his bed. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sought his slippers. They weren't there, of course. He hadn't opened his suitcase.
Dismissing the need for slippers, he padded his way into the bathroom. He had the distinct feeling someone was watching him, as soon as his bare feet hit the cold tile floor. His skin crawled with a sense of some unseen entity was there with him—something supernatural, something powerful. He flipped on the light switch and looked into the mirror, not at himself, but around the edges of the mirror. He flipped the light off . Then back on. Hadn't there been the slightest shadow of something there in the mirror? There were beings that could not be seen in this world, but hovered just beyond a thin membrane that could sometimes be breached. A mirror was their favorite conductive route into this world. They could harness it's two-way powers, if they were of a mind.
He switched the light off, exited the room, and shut the door. Hairs on his arms stood on end. He would not be able to retract his wings the way he was feeling right now.
He hoped the unseen being would move on.
Is it looking for her? This one question left his nerves on edge.
|Fourth book in Sabrina Strong series|