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| Prequel: The Vampire & The Werewolf: A New Orleans Christmas |
The question
stopped me cold. Next week, book 7 in my erotic paranormal series comes out. I
made PAN with the first book The Vampire,
The Witch & The Werewolf: A New Orleans Threesome. I’m not a total
promo ho, but I do hope the word gets out …
In honor of Her Wolf Ménage, which releases March
20, let’s take a look at the rest of the book family. We'll count-up, one a day.
A New Orleans
Threesome came first. Afterward, I was asked how the two main characters
Trevor and Lawrence got together. Since I had the story in my head, I shared.
Now, most people prefer to start with .5.
(Prequel): The Vampire
& The Werewolf: A New Orleans Christmas
Vampires and
werewolves don’t mix … or do they?
Before there were three, there were two. When a vampire
swoops in to save Trevor from a rogue gang’s blood sport, the werewolf must
fight his own inhibitions. The magic of New Orleans and the holiday season
bring together these two unlikely lovers.
“In her first foray into the m/m genre, Ms.
Bacio sets the pages ablaze in this sexy Christmas tale featuring two
irresistible characters from her The
Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf series. There’s nothing better
on a cold winter’s night than cozying up with the vampire and the werewolf as
they come together in this sizzling story. This is my Christmas present
to myself.”
Rebecca Leigh,
author of Dirty Housewives
Excerpt:
Lawrence
hated the thought of his kind hurting humans. It was his city, and he’d lived
in peace here for a very long time. While he couldn’t control the actions of
Mother Nature, he certainly could make sure that no vampires pillaged on his
turf. Night after night, he’d set out in search of the blood-sucking rejects.
He
shook his head. At least she would be all right. He wasn’t sure what he’d find
further into the alley. Maybe a friend of hers, or a date. He turned the
corner, and quickly accessed the scene: four against one.
He
never killed unless necessary. He didn’t take more blood than he needed to
survive. And his victims never felt fear or experienced unnecessary violence.
Instead, he left them with pleasant fuzzy memories, like a night when they had
partied too much, or a dream that they’d rather forget come morning. It
certainly helped that he lived in New Orleans and could prey on unsuspecting
tourists rather than dine on the locals.
Several
years ago, he’d heard rumors about a band of misfit vampires terrorizing the
streets. Ironically, incidents had happened close to Halloween, so the police
had mistakenly been looking for a gang of teenagers acting like vampires. If
the authorities had only known the truth. There were a few people within human
society, pretty much on the edges of humanity themselves, who suspected and
maybe even knew. Certainly, the author Anne Rice must have had more than an
inkling to have written her vampire chronicles and manifesto staring the
illustrious Lestat. She had done more for the prophesied soul of the vampire
with those books than Bram Stroker’s original Dracula.
Lawrence
had overheard countless conversations wondering “if.” Rice made readers believe
that if they opened their second-story window, a vampire could very well be
lurking outside of it. If only …
Although
over his lifetime he’d known about other supernatural creatures, Lawrence
hadn’t really come into contact with many. They tended to hang with their own.
If
forced, he would have estimated that none of the four attackers in front of him
were older than five years dead. What they’d possessed in numbers and sheer
dumbness, he’d more than matched in strength, skill and maturity. As he entered
the alleyway, he followed a trail of blood. Something smelled different about
the spilled lifeblood on the dirty concrete. Whoever the ill-begotten vamps had
been playing with this evening wasn’t human, but that didn’t give them any
right to torture their victim.
“Hey
doggy-doggy, let’s see you shift,” a male voice rang out.
“You
like to take it doggy-style?” another person said. “I know a pretty-boy like
you must like it doggy-style.”
Laughter
filled the blackness of the air, and Lawrence readied himself for action. Most
of the time, he’d simply help the one being held captive, but in this
circumstance, he didn’t want the others to heal and then strike again. He
needed to stop them, and finish them.
m/m erotic paranormal
20,000 words – novella
