Monday, August 27, 2012

Death's Children

Because I am an inordinately chipper mood, I've decided to post a snippet of Death's Children. Enjoy my lovelies, because it's almost done.

Louis lit a cigarette. A very thin, brown cigarette that smelled like cherries and vanilla. He blew out a curl of blue smoke and sighed.
            “I have never smoked in public before,” he confided. “I would have gotten such shocked expressions—even in Pari.”
            I smiled. “Being grown up has lots of benefits.”
            Oui. I can kiss a woman without her feeling uncomfortable. I can flirt without being called adorable. I can make love without it being perversion.” He smiled at me. “You did this for me.”
            “I had to.”
            “Why?” He took another puff.
            “I just—I felt something. Between us.” I swallowed. “When you looked me in the eyes my heart raced. I’ve never felt like that before. You—excite me. You frighten me. You…I don’t know what I feel when I look at you. I don’t understand how I can feel this way when I just met you.”
            “I must confess to similar feelings. I had put aside such things many years ago, to save myself pain. I threw myself into running Paris. To reclaiming the government. To protecting my legacy. And then you kissed me. Now, all I can think about is you.” He looked into my eyes. “You haunt me, Augustine and I don’t want you to ever stop.”
            There, with the sun setting and the sky turning purple in the dusk, I kissed him. I kissed him because I didn’t have any more words. I didn’t know what else to say.
            His hands were strong, large. He pressed me against him and I felt…safe.
            He took my lower lip between his teeth and bit down gently, as Claude had done, but he didn’t stop there. His tongue flickered across my lips and without hesitation, I opened my mouth and delighted in the sensation.
            His fingers tangled in my hair and all around us there was blue smoke from his cigarette and the smell of cherries and vanilla. He tasted like cherries. I had to remind myself we were in public, and with regret, pulled away from him to catch my breath.


Obviously, not Sebastien. Death's Children is a story seen through the eyes of a newly risen Watchman (woman), named Augustine Fleur. Sebastien is a big part of her story, however, as he is now responsible for the girl fresh from her grave. New and old characters fill the pages and you'll find yourself answering questions from The Grave Watchers, and discovering a great deal more about Sebastien's world. 

I'm also plotting out a book three, which will hopefully not take as long to write, which will be from Claude's POV. Because everyone loves Claude.

Cheers my doves! 

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