As I near getting the print edition out of my book, “Vile Blood“, I’ve been taking all the necessary steps like re-editing, and today was finishing up the artwork for the new cover! A spine and back cover still need to be worked up, but this will also be replacing my old e-book cover when I update those files with the new re-edited version. Story is the same, just fixed typos. 😉
I’d have to say my favorite part of advertising, which can be tedious, is actually making the ads. Love to find reasons to play around in Photoshop.
Not every fire starts with an explosion, most simply begin with a match.
We lust for what we cannot obtain. Forever lost in the darkness of our hearts. I loved the fact that I could never have you, like a sweet dream that you know you will awake from. But every moment, every flinch, every single caress made still remembered as if real, remains there clinging to my heart. I close my eyes to sleep, but I can’t reach that dream again.
Sarain moved on to the last door on the floor. The door was slightly open, just a crack, and candlelight flickered from inside. As she approached closer she heard a woman moan. She braced herself for any explicit act she may see next. She reached the door and glanced in. The room was mostly dark; the few candles didn’t give off much light. The forms of a man and woman were entwined on the bed; they were moving to rhythm and seemed too engrossed to notice Sarain peeking through the doorway.
The man started kissing the woman’s neck, and Sarain began to move on from the door. Then something caught her eye; a sudden glimpse of blue. She stopped, and looked again. The man was Winston, but more importantly, the blue was from his brightly colored eyes, which Sarain probably wouldn’t have seen in the dark if it wasn’t for the fact that they were glowing. He bit into the woman’s neck, but continued to move his body with hers. Winston was without a doubt a vil sang, however Sarain hesitated to attack. The woman appeared fine, she was still alive, and didn’t seem startled by the blood sucking act. The woman was a willing participant, and had to be human because her eyes did not illuminate. Winston removed his fangs from the woman throat, and then kissed her again. She put her hands on his back and tried to pull him down to her. He leaned in, and then looked up at Sarain.
Sarain’s body went cold as she met his icy stare. His eyes glowed with passion; he gazed at her without expression, his mouth still smudged with blood. She didn’t look away, and he kept his eyes on her. The other woman didn’t appear to notice, she was too enthralled in the act to realize that Winston’s attention was elsewhere. Sarain’s hand tightened around her knife; she didn’t want him looking at her, but he remained staring. Finally the woman brought her hands up to Winston’s face and pulled him down for a kiss, breaking his gaze. When he broke from the woman’s lips, his eyes went back to the doorway, but Sarain was gone.
Light came from every angle, its warmth turned searing. Golden embers sparked and burned at her flesh. The odor was pungent; the stench coming from her bubbling skin. The heat overcame her and gave her no relief; she could not die and the pain would not stop. The flames kept coming at her, they would not dissipate. She was the wick of the candle, and surrounded by fuel. Caged in hell with an eternity to atone, the burning would last forever, and she prayed to be ash.
Only love would set her free.
Those of you who have read “Vile Blood” may have noticed that it is dedicated to Gabriel with the following “Wish I could have met you.” Gabriel is the name I gave to the baby I miscarried when I was 23. I wrote “Vile Blood” in the three months that followed after my miscarriage; it was my way of dealing with the grief of losing a much wanted pregnancy.