Deadly Ever After

Archive for the tag “las vegas”


Today’s brew: Berry Zinger iced tea

by Kristen

This one’s been a long time coming, and I’m so excited to finally be able to share the awesomeness with you!  My vampires are spinning in a different direction.  It’s my pleasure to introduce you to Cirque Macabre and THE FIRE DANCER.

This ain’t a love song…

Meet Holly Octane, a burlesque performer that bursts into flames with any extreme emotion. And there’s a fine line between love and hate. THE FIRE DANCER is my first step away from romance into straight dark fantasy with a touch of horror.  It’s twisty and dark. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a sexy book, but instead of focusing on the romance, it focuses on Holly’s journey and what makes her ignite.  It also features many of the villains from The Night Songs series, and shows you a different side of them.  After all, there is three sides to every story.

First of all, check out this gorgeous cover. I know, I’m talking about my child and everyone’s children are beautiful, but my artists deserve a massive shout out. They knocked it out of the park. I found the amazing Daoyi Liu to do the illustration, and Hang Le knew exactly how to make this cover sing.

THE FIRE DANCER is available for preorder (at the special introductory price of 1.99) and on Goodreads.



At Le Cirque Macabre, Holly Octane bursts into flames five nights a week. The stage is where Holly feels most alive. When she’s there no one can touch her, and everyone adores her.

Brought to Las Vegas as vampire bait, Holly’s connection to the immortals is a mystery. She’s one of a kind– traveling through time and igniting when her emotions get too hot to handle. The only people who understand her are an aunt with a hidden agenda and her fortune teller girlfriend, Rainey, who doesn’t see a future with Holly in it.

Cash Logan needs Holly, but she’s not the reason he came to Vegas. The enigmatic magician seeks Blade Bennett, a vampire that has a power that he shouldn’t have–fire. A power that could determine the future of all of vampire kind. Holly’s the only one who can help Blade control his fire, but their feelings for each other are too fiery to ignore.

Immortals rule the Vegas night, and not one of them trusts Cash or Blade. If Holly lets them draw her in to this world designed to destroy her, she’ll lose everything—the only family she’s ever known, and everyone who adores her.

Las Vegas is her stage, and Holly is determined to set the city on fire.



“How long have you been like this?” His gaze ran the length of my robe, and he didn’t have to clarify what he meant.

As far as everyone knew, I was twenty-four. “Decades. I think.” The concept of time simply made me dizzy.

Cash nodded; my answer didn’t surprise him. “You were born north of London in 1781, in a village called Moorfields.” My knees buckled, and if I didn’t clutch the table, I would have fallen. Even though I knew the answer wasn’t going to be something nice and neat like twenty-five years ago in Memphis, actually having the answer blew my mind.

“I remember things that happened before that.” I couldn’t face him. “And I think I remember you.”

“Do you?” Cash ran his fingers lightly along my hair, never touching my body. At first, I was terrified we’d burst into flames. We’d fireproofed my dressing room, but Cash wouldn’t survive. This information was just the tip of the iceberg. I needed him to stay alive. “What do you remember?”

Images jumbled in my brain as if someone spun a wheel. I saw Cash, bound, bloody, and burned, surrounded by laughing onlookers. His hair was shorter, and it was a different time, but I knew him. His eyes. No matter what humiliation was bestowed upon him, they remained proud. “Chaos.”

His silky laugh almost convinced me I’d been wrong. No one could actually survive the state I pictured Cash in, his skin purple from abuse, weak from starvation, and still have a sense of humor. But those eyes. “That’s about right.” He moved closer to me, my robe pressed against my skin.

I couldn’t let him distract me. “But why do I remember things that happened before that? Like I was there. Is that even possible?”

“If you experienced it, then you made it possible, Holly.” His words were soft, and like time, they made me dizzy. “You’re a Bleed.”

My eyes snapped open. “A what?”

“You’re a Bleed. You age much more slowly than mortals, your immortality extends in all directions. Forward, backward, and sideways if it’s possible.”

I had to turn and face him. Rainey would knock on the door any time now, and I needed to wrap this up before she came. She’d warned me stay away from Cash. We’d been fighting too much lately already. I hated it. “How many of us are there?”

“You mean how many of you are there.” Someone knocked on the door softly. I forced my eyes away from Cash, and he stepped back. The knock repeated, more forceful this time. Rainey would be able to sense I wasn’t alone, even if she couldn’t see Cash. “You might be the only one.”

“Then how do you know so much about it?” I kept waiting for the heat to rise in my body, but it didn’t. All the triggers, fear and frustration, were there, but no flames. The knocking became frantic.

“Because I do.” Cash placed my hat back on my head before he headed to the door. His hand was on the doorknob when he turned back to me. “You’ve been patient this long, Holly. I want you to need me.”




Meet the Main Character- A Little Blog Hopping Goodness with Callie

Today’s Brew: Anything I don’t have to chew.

by Kristen

I feel like a mad scientist lately. Skulking around in the dark recesses of the Deadly Ever After labs, creating new and improved things to bring to all of you. I’ve been quiet lately, because I have so much to say but I had to be patient and wait. My wait is almost over, Saturday is the cover reveal of WE OWN THE NIGHT, a book I feel like I’ve been telling you about for-evah. It’s also the reveal of the NEW covers of BECAUSE THE NIGHT and NIGHT MOVES.

Aaaah! So excited.

When Shonda Brock tagged me for the Meet the Main Characters blog hop, she had no idea how perfect her timing was.  With all the excitement brewing in Night Songs City this week, it’s the perfect time to reacquaint you with Callie. You may know her, you may love her, you may cringe every time she graces a page. But we can all agree, she’s never boring.  So without further ado…

Finally! Someone who looks like Callie with Callie's coloring!!

 1. What is the name of your main character? Is she fictional or a historical person?

Callie Chabot is a fictional character. Without realizing it, I named her after the lyrical muse, Calliope.  Perfect coincidence. Callie definitely has a pull over musicians. Chabot is my grandmother’s maiden name.

2. When and where is the story set?

Because the Night and We Own the Night take place in present day Las Vegas. Instead of endless Cirque du Soleil shows, my fictional Las Vegas features many vampire rock bands in residence instead.  In the books, you meet several bands, but the main one is Immortal Dilemma. They’re in residence at the Alta Vista hotel, which is located where the former Sahara was and future SLS resort will be.  Callie winds up moving in with  Tristan, who lives at the Alta Vista.

Or something.

3. What should we know about her?

Callie doesn’t look before she leaps.  She’s passionate and driven, but that doesn’t always lead her to the right place.  She might not always make the right decisions, but her heart is always in the right place.

4. What is the main conflict? What messes up her life?

Callie goes to Las Vegas to figure out what the hell is going on with Tristan, since he disappeared and reemerges as a member of a vampire rock star band on a “reality” show.  While she’s there, she finds Tristan still has a pull over her, even though he’s a hot mess and she’s met someone else.  When Blade, her new love interest, goes missing, she turns to the vampire underworld and Tristan for help finding him.  When she does find him in We Own the Night, it creates a whole new mess for Callie. They’re both vying for the same position, as clan leader, and only one of them can do it.

5. What is her personal goal?

Over everything else, Callie wants happiness for herself and everyone around her.  Even when she makes a mess of things.  She also wants respect.  Her good intentions mistakenly thrust her into a leadership role and she needs to get people to take her seriously, like yesterday.


6. Is there a working title for this novel and can we read more about it?

Because the Night will be rereleased July 12.  We Own the Night will be released September 1.



One Last Longing Look At Las Vegas

Today’s Brew: Pumpkin Spice

by Kristen

***BECAUSE THE NIGHT is still 99 cents! Grab it before it goes back to full price!***

I’m still kind of jetlagged, but otherwise everything’s back to normal and my trip seems like a dream. My intent had been to share photos with you as they happened, but Twitter doesn’t always like to upload my photos, and my computer decided to have a Jim Morrison style blackout halfway through the trip.  I’m also the world’s worst photographer.  So even though I tried to break my bad photography habits, it just didn’t work.

Better late than never!

The gondola ride at the Venetian.  Callie and Blade’s first date.  We had a delightful Mexican lunch and watched couples feel awkward as they were serenaded through the mall.

My favorite schlocky attraction and the second part of the date is the Bellagio water show.  The hooker card people would not give me cards! Bastards! But Liz got some.  I have that picture on my Twitter page. I was so tempted to call one of them just to talk to them. The research! That would be worth the $35!

I basically took Liz on all of Callie and Blade’s dates.  Here’s the Hoover Dam.



Another of my favorite attractions in Vegas is the Neon Boneyard. It’s no secret that I love old stuff, and I love Vegas, so all the old Vegas signs?  Heaven. I visited the museum a couple of years ago, and if you saw it before it was up and running in The LaConcha, go back!  It’s much more organized, and night tours are available.

Believe it or not, there are things I’d never seen before in the Las Vegas area.  We took the Camaro out for a road trip and visited The Valley of Fire.  It’s only about an hour outside of Vegas, and it might as well be on the moon.

So now I’m back high atop Whiskey Tango Boulevard, full of inspiration and research to edit and create.

Absinthe: A Walk On The Wild Side

Today’s Brew: Not Absinthe.  Frozen Hot Chocolate. Which was twice as good as it sounds.

by Kristen

***BECAUSE THE NIGHT is on sale this week for 99 cents! Merry Christmas!****

Still in Vegas.

It’s hard for me to talk about the book I just finished, We Own the Night, because it’s so spoilery if you haven’t read Because the Night. And with this week’s sale, you now have no friggin’ excuse for not owning it. There’s more change of the floor of the rental Camaro than that. But anyway, I digress.

Just before Halloween, I contributed a story for The Dark Carnival called Heaven’s on Fire, which introduced two new characters: Cash Logan and Holly Octane. After I finished that story, they wouldn’t leave me the frig alone until I included them in We Own the Night.  Cash is a magician, and I wanted him to have a bad ass magical show the only the likes of Vegas could host.

Of course, I placed The Cirque Macabre at Circus Circus. There is nothing cool at Circus Circus, and I know this to be fact. My friend Jason, the one I told you I ran into the other night, suggested we go see a bad at yet another of Vince Neil’s bar located at Circus Circus. What a nightmare that place is. The low ceilings trap the desperation like a fog.

Not to mention on the way out of that place, a 13 year old grabbed my ass. But I digress.

Tonight Liz and I went to see Absinthe at Caesar’s Palace. I wasn’t sure what to expect, all I knew was it was some sort of variety show with burlesque and roller derby, which if you know me, you can imagine the intensity of my lady boner hearing those two things together.

Imagine my surprise when I found Absinthe to set in a circus tent, just like my Cirque Macabre. And it was decorated all steampunk, similar to Cirque Macabre.  Kind of like my pinterest board come to life.

The performers were incredible! There was many different aerial and acrobatic acts that did thing with their bodies I could only hope to be able to move again if I attempted.  I love that shit. I’m still convinced that someday I’ll be able a little bit of it. No one set themselves on fire, like Holly.

A Vamptastic Welcome

Today’s Brew: Starbucks is 32 floors below me. So close yet so far.

by Kristen

Liz and I have safety arrived in Vegas!  Traveling takes 16 times longer than you ever expect to, and we got in kind of late. I hold Detroit completely responsible. Before you Michiganers get all up in arms by my finger pointing, remember that fog you had yesterday? Yeah. We almost had to land in Cleveland. And this week is not Christmas in Cleveland. It’s Christmas in Vegas!!

Oh, and we might have upgraded our rental car to a convertible Camaro.


Still, I INSISTED we go to the vampire bar I’ve been having a fit over all week. We didn’t get there until midnight, which sounds like, well, midnight in the suburbs, but in Vegas, it’s the perfect time to arrive. I’d planned to shoot ya’ll a video of our arrival, but:

  1. God damn, I was tired until we got in there.
  2. Party clothes can be only expected to compensate for so much of a full travel day.
  3. We’re totally going back.

By the way, ventiicedsugarfreecaramelsoylatte is now all one word.

After pouring some vodka down Liz’s throat, we settled in to the packed Count’s Vamp’d to watch Jake E. Lee perform. If you’re not an old rocker person, you might not know who the hell he is. Back in the mid 80’s he played guitar for Ozzy, like Bark At The Moon era Ozzy, and he also had another hairband called Badlands. So, right up my effin’ alley.

So here’s the best part about Las Vegas: all the old rocker dudes can’t afford to live in LA anymore, and they all moved here. So that bar was like my frigging Disneyland!  Put about 1o years on all the guys on my Pinterest boards. The place was lousy with long hairs. I may have whiplash.

I have one friend who still lives in Vegas, and we’re facebook friends but we haven’t seen each other since I moved.  I had a feeling we might see him at the show. I kept looking, but didn’t see him.  Liz just happened to zig instead of zag on the way out, and who was standing there but my friend Jason!!  So that was an awesome surprise, too.

OK, enough internet for me right now. Still on the hunt for Tristan I have to go raise hell in a Camaro.

Flash Fiction Friday: The Exception

Today’s Brew: Who cares about the coffee.  It’s peppermint mocha creamer, yo.

by Kristen

To close out our celebration of Because the Night’s release week, I wanted to repost an oldie but a goodie short piece starring Tristan.

Add Because the Night on Goodreads!  Own a copy of Because the Night (The Night Songs Collection) for your very own!!

Shhh. Tristan wants to tell you a story.

“So you think you can handle me?” My tattooed fantasy stood just inches from me, his eyes soft, wearing a smile that said nothing but danger.

I nodded.  I couldn’t speak.  I’d played this very moment out so many times in my mind.  I’d known just what to say to lure him closer.  But it was already a done deal, a negotiation of sorts.

Not what I had imagined so many times before, alone in my house, the car, the shower. You get the picture. What the hell was I doing? I’d only slept with three people in my whole life and here I was, with this larger than life stranger, practically paralyzed.

Now that I was actually here with Tristan Trevosier, my whole body trembled, and I had to clench my teeth together not to fawn over him, profess my love like some pathetic preteen fangirl.

“What’s your name?”  His voice was little more than a whisper.  He took one more step, close enough to touch my arm.  He ran his rough fingers, calloused from playing guitar, down the length of my bare skin.  With his other hand, he tipped my chin up to meet his eyes, which burned with every scandalous thought I knew brewed in his soul.

“Andrea.” Why did I feel so shy now? This was what I wanted, wasn’t it?

“Your husband seems like a nice guy.”

My eyes widened. My guard rose like iron gates around my conscious. I shouldn’t be doing this.

But I had to.

“He’s wonderful.” I gulped.  “Your girlfriend is okay with this?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“That girl, who was sitting in the room. I’ve seen pictures of you with her online.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my soulmate.”  He smiled, amused.  “Like you and your husband, we understand each other. What we have to do.”

My jaw, still in his hand, dropped.  I didn’t understand this at all.

“Back to your husband.”  His eyes bore into mine so I could look nowhere else. “What doesn’t he do for you?”

We’d been married for six months, this trip to Vegas technically our honeymoon. We’d hardly had a real fight yet. I’d waited longer than my girlfriends to get married, but Brian had made every minute of that wait worth it. Now, here I stood before this Adonis, barely more than a teenager, who had no problem questioning our marriage right after he asked me my name.

“What do you mean?”

“This is your fantasy, right, Andrea?” Tristan cut me off.  “I want to make it worth your while.  What doesn’t he do for you? Sexually.  I don’t give a rat’s ass if he takes out the trash or puts down the toilet seat.”

Despite the electrical charge in the small space between our faces, I couldn’t help but laugh.  I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. “He doesn’t like to go down on me.”

Tristan rolled his eyes.  “I’ll never understand why some dudes are so stupid.”

He pushed me against the wall in the small room and sunk to his knees in front of me.  I lost my urge to defend Brian’s honor as he pushed up my skirt to my waist and tore my lace panties off of me like they were made from tissue paper.  My breath quickened as I stood in front of him. Bare.  He only used his hands to part my thigh, kissing my pubic bone before moving down, licking, sucking, teasing. His dark hair tickled my thighs. All my muscles pulsed and sang. His hands and mouth held me steady against the wall, or else I might have fallen on top of him in a crumpled heap.

I wanted to beg him for mercy, but I never wanted him to stop. Sanity was overrated.

In a fluid moment, Tristan rose to his feet, his hands sliding up to the waded fabric at my waist.  “Do you understand what Bloodlust is, Andrea?” He breathed into my ear.

I hadn’t expected him to stay in character.  But I couldn’t deny it.  Something pulled me to him. “I do. That’s why I’m here.”

“You don’t know what it is for me.” He kissed my neck, and I stiffened with nerves. “The blood is what gets people like me off.”

He grazed his sharp teeth against my neck.  Weren’t they just part of his costume? He wouldn’t really take it so far and try to bite me, would he?

“It’s real?” I could barely manage the words.

“It’s real. “ I could feel him nod against my neck.  “Relax.  This is why you’re here.”

I didn’t relax. I froze as he punctured my neck.  My mouth opened to scream but nothing came out. As he sucked, I entered an alternate universe, almost a higher consciousness.  My muscles softened and all those little things that mattered just second before didn’t matter now.

“Good girl.” He reassured me as he finished. His hands moved back down to my legs, pushing me up against the wall, entering me.  My god, was he wearing a condom?  The panic seemed separate, like someone else worried about it for me. He sucked on the wounds on my neck as he thrusted in beautiful rhythm, like the musician he was. I exploded, seeing nothing but stars.

Tristan gently put me back down on the floor, back to earth, and adjusted my skirt.  He kissed me on my forehead as he adjusted himself, a bizarrely chaste move after what he had just done to me.

“Go back to your husband, Andrea.”

With that, he walked away from me.  Shut the door behind him as he left the room. The curtain closed on my fantasy.

Real life awaited. I was terrified.

I dug in my purse for my phone.  As I expected, Brian had left me close to a dozen messages.  He waited for me at the bar in the lobby.  Before I ventured out, I stole a quick glance at myself in my compact mirror.  I was still real. My only souvenir to remember my encounter he left me with was two neat little teeth marks.

I peeked out the door into the hallway.  Thankfully, everything was well marked and I was able to find my way back out into the Sin City Vampire Club without having to ask for help.

Brian sat alone on a corner stool, happily sipping some concoction out of a plastic skull souvenir cup.  His face brightened when he saw me, kissing me in greeting. “So, did you do it?”

How could he be so enthusiastic about this? So casual? After all, it was his big mouth that set the whole thing into motion in the first place. “Hey Tristan, you’re the one that I’d let my wife sleep with.  It’s her fantasy.”  He had blurted out in the Immortal Dilemma meet and greet line.  I had wanted to kill him for saying such a thing until Tristan cocked his eyebrow, looking me up and down, and smiled.

I’m sure he’d spend our time apart texting his buddies at home, bragging about what was going on. How would I ever be able to face our friends?

I’d cheated on my husband. And everyone would want to hear every single detail.

I nodded, climbing up on the stool beside him, wincing at my soreness. I could barely look him in the eye.

“So was it hot? Like real vampire sex?” Brian’s eyes blazed. This still wasn’t real to him.

I pulled my hair away from my neck, revealing the puncture wounds.

He ran his fingers gingerly against the swollen scabby marks.  “Wow.”  His tone changed a bit as what happened sunk in.

I folded my hands in front of me and stared at them.

“Do you want a drink, babe?”

I shook my head.

“What do you want to do?

“I just want to go back to the room.”

“Okay.”  He threw some money up on the bar, leaving his skull cup behind as we slid off our bar stools.

We walked back to our hotel, hand in hand, forever changed from how we arrived.

Kristen’s Las Vegas

Today’s Brew: Pumpkin Spice. Back to the grind. See what I did there? 3:30 wakeup calls will do that to a girl.

by Kristen

I had a dream about a girl trying to make her way in Las Vegas that stuck with me so much I moved there to write a book about it. No shit.  The book didn’t come until, well, now, but I thought I’d show you around my digs a bit.

We start the tour at my old apartment. This was seriously the best apartment I ever had, and it might have been because it was the first one that was mine all mine. And the washer dryer in unit. Nine miles from the strip, tons of closet space, and CHEAP.  A one bedroom like the one I had is only $675 a month.  My bank account cries hearing that.

Sky Court Harbors at The Lakes, Las Vegas

Next stop: work!  I wasn’t a makeup artist yet when I lived in Vegas. I was a retail manager. But don’t worry, I wasn’t boring. I was a manager at Frederick’s of Hollywood.  This was my favorite retail job ever.

Most of the bars I hung out at when I lived in Vegas are long gone now.  But every Tuesday night, my friends and I would go see Metal Skool, which you probably know better now as Steel Panther, play at the Suncoast. For free. Then we’d have dollar breakfast at midnight and then go upstairs for buck a string bowling. All in the same building. The best part about the world’s cheapest night out was that you could BYOB since they never knew which bar you bought from. And they didn’t care.

This is Steel Panther, mofos.

Can you remind me why I came back to Massachusetts, please?

Blood Stakes: The Clash Of The Vampires

Today’s Brew:  Witches Brew!  Happy Halloween!

by Kristen and Julie

To celebrate Halloween, we bring you a collaborative story between our favorite bad boys, Tristan and Lynch.

Her skin was so tan, it begged to be cracked and broken open like a tropical fruit, to let me taste the sweetness inside until it was gone.

Not here. I threw the dice again, willing myself not to look at the tan one, or even to feel the slowly lapping tongue of the chubby blonde in my ear on the other side as she crawled up and down my suit, wrinkling it. There would be a busty maid waiting to pick up my suit no matter what time I got back to the room, and when that busty maid quietly disappeared, another would replace her. Just like magic. This was Vegas, and magic happened all the time.

I needed to get the hell out of New Hampshire for a while, to somewhere with some refinery that appreciated a man with taste, and with taste for a special kind of sin. Looking around the high roller room, I thought I’d found it. Until my eyes landed on him.

Surrounded by a swarm of bimbos that made my dates look like choir girls, hair and leather sprawled out from the chair at the table.  He didn’t have a glass in front of him, but a bottle, that he lifted to his lips in between sucking on the necks of the girls closest to him.  He didn’t even look at them, how could he, his eyes open little more than slits.

“Young lady,” I said quietly to the waitress, a pristine thing in black and white, an old movie waiting to be colored red. She came to me quickly, smiling shyly.

“Yes, Mr. Lynch?” she said, a melodious voice that I wanted to hear scream.

“Can we please,” I glanced to the over-active corner, “tidy up a bit?”

Her eyes widened, her lips moving with a childlike uncertainty. “Oh, sir,” she said. “That is Tristan Trevosier.”

I ran a finger down her arm, feeling the goosebumps rise under my cool touch. “Why should that matter to me, darling girl?”

“He’s famous, you know?  He’s in Immortal Dilemma.”  Her eyes widened and she jerked her head back to the spectacle at the table in the corner.

“Still doesn’t matter.” My words were little more than breath against her skin.  She shivered as I spoke. “Why would that make him special?”

“I’ve heard he’s a…” She turned back again, looking nervous and lowering her voice.  “Vampire.”

“Do you know what vampires do?”

She was trembling, and it hurt to look at it. I would crush her butterfly wings to stop them from shaking. “Are you saying you think they’re real?”

“I don’t have to think it.” My shield was a fluttering thing around us, but still strong enough to keep the women I escorted from seeing as I leaned in, sniffing deeply her hot pink aroma.

“Mr. Lynch?” she squeaked, eyes darting to the shimmering air around us.

“Sssshhh.” And I plunged my fangs into the warm pulsing vein in her throat, my hand over her mouth so I could feel the scream. I’d been drinking, and my shield was a near failure. I would never be the strongest vampire. The thought of that made me drink deeper, squeeze her cheeks harder, want to consume and obliterate all at once.

“Hey! Hey, man. What the fuck are you doing?” The famous vampire approached me, snapping me out of my thrall.  There was delicious suction when I pulled my mouth from the waitress, her blood salty and thick.  She whimpered softly against my hand, now wet with her tears.  Gasps and murmurs swirled around us.  “We don’t do that shit in public.”

“You…you saw that?” It was my turn to be surprised.

The rockstar already slid his hands around the waist of my waitress, again making the swarm of on lookers and hangers-on cry out with objection or envy. He pressed her against his body, concealing her open wound.  “Yeah.  That’s not how you do it.  You do it like this. Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Drowsy, the waitress nodded as Tristan ran his tongue along her neck then laid her down over the lip of the craps table, so her legs were up above her head.  He ran his hands along her thighs, pushing up her already barely there uniform skirt and biting into the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

“What are you doing over here?” the chubby blonde bitched at the rock star. “Lynch, what is he doing?” she said, turning to me as I wiped a smear of blood off my chin. She noticed, and came quickly to look at it. “Are you okay?”

So she hadn’t seen me take the waitress’s blood. Only he had. He actually was a vampire.

I tapped him on the shoulder as he ravaged the waitress’s thigh. “I think you should go back to your hole in the earth, little boy, before I take your harem away from you.”

He raised his head just enough for me to see the blood glisten against his chin.  His eyes burned black and he bared his fangs to me.  “Try it.” He growled.

Faster than he could think, I took him by the mane of hair, wishing I didn’t have to touch it all the same, and slammed his face hard into the table next to the waitress. She screamed, a tinkling sound in this place, but only had the life left to curl in a ball on top of the game.

Tristan sprung from the table, but swayed when he stood. And I was the undisciplined one? He was a raging mess of a boy, with bloodshot eyes and a drug-thinned body. He ran at me, and I hit him, sending him back against the table. The girls were all screaming, mine and his alike. It made my teeth gnash and my heart pound.

My interests were no longer on him.

“Alright, man, I get it, you’re strong,” the rock star said.

If he said anything else, I didn’t care.  The plump blonde cried out, pushed away from the table by Tristan.  She somehow made her way into a chair, her arms wrapped loosely around her body in a hug. Nothing was going to bring her comfort tonight. I walked to her, going down on one knee and smiling into her tear brimmed eyes. I pulled her arms away from her stomach, pulling her body to mine, to taste the sweet nectar she held inside.

“Stop screaming,” I said through a smile. “It makes me crazy.”

But all the screaming around me, a cacophony of songbirds, had my teeth roaring to sink in to any one of them and all of them.

Her soft belly was in front of me and I pinned her to the chair, ripping my teeth into the flesh of it while she writhed like she loved it. The wound was wide, and she wouldn’t live long enough to enjoy me finishing her blood.

When I drained her, I moved to the next one, and the next one, wondering how long I had before the cameras caught on through the shield. I saw Tristan flash by as he did the same, laboring over the sucking of each girls’ thighs and chests, while I relished the distress of the others. It was a beautiful tragedy, perfection of destruction.

All too soon, the bystanders were reduced to bodies strewn on the carpet like emptied drink cups.  The rock star sat back down at his game table and ran his fingers through his hair.  He raised his bottle to me. “Cheers.”

Invigorated from our little competition, I couldn’t help but ask. “So what else is there to do around here on a Friday night?”


***You can find more Lynch in Running Home and more Tristan in Because The Night.***

Kat’s Cupcake Sangria–Elegantly Wasted Blog Tour

Today’s Brew:  Sangria!  A personal favorite

Julie and I thought we were the perfect hosts for this stop of the Elegantly Wasted Blog Tour. I don’t think I have to explain why.  Cheers!


Elegantly Wasted Book CoverOn the eve of her high school graduation, proper socialite Francesca “Frankie” Fairholm rebelled against her elitist and controlling family to pursue the dark lifestyle of a contract killer for the enigmatic Osiris Corporation. Years later, with her training complete, she believes she’s doomed to the life of a sociopathic lone gun until a botched hit brings two unlikely allies, her cousins Addison and Katharine.

Using Katharine’s etiquette school, Elegance, Inc., as a front, the trio weave through Frankie’s dark underworld, carrying out contracts, drinking too much wine, and trying not to get each other killed.

Trouble follows the team home when the death of the cruel Fairholm matriarch reveals more than they ever wanted to know about their family. As the funeral preparations play out, the trio begin to realize there is much more to their employer than meets the eye and their family connections run deeper than they ever imagined.

sangriaWine is a theme throughout the Wasted Series and one of the characters drinks a lot of it. Katharine Fairholm is a proper socialite who works as a “Wingback” for Osiris. She turns to alcohol to deal with her fear and uncertainties throughout the story. This makes her an amusing pain in the ass for the main character, her cousin Francesca.

Kat’s usual Friday night consists of raiding her wine rack and drinking her cares away. Unless there’s a contract to collect, in which case, she accompanies Frankie on her mission- still drinks… usually gets compromised and has to be rescued.

Sangria is my favorite drink because it combines fruit and wine. I’m not a huge fan of dry reds but when you add them to this recipe, it really makes a great party drink… plus, it’s pretty.

The base of this Sangria is Cupcake’s Red Velvet. It combines Zinfandel, Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon and Petite Sirah. If you don’t want to make a red sangria, replace the Red Velvet with Cupcake’s Angel Food- or the wine of your choice.

Kat’s Cupcake Sangria

One Bottle of Cupcake Brand “Red Velvet” Wine.
2 Cups. of Triple Sec
1 1/2 Cups of Club Soda (7Up if you want a lot of sweetness)
1/2 Cup each of Strawberries and Apples
One lime and one orange.
One bowl or pitcher.


  • Cut the strawberries and apples into chunks and put them in a large bowl.
  • Take half of your lime and squeeze the juice onto the fruit.
  • Cut the other half into thin slices (wedge those if you wish) and add them to the mix
  • Cut half the orange and do the same as you did with the lime.
  • Add the whole bottle of wine and the triple sec. Cover and let it sit for at least one hour.
  • Before serving, add your Club Soda or 7Up.
  • Fruit is very flexible. Raspberries, apples and strawberries also work nicely if you don’t want a lot of citrus added to your Sangria.

c_vescio_pic_smallAbout the author C. Elizabeth Vescio: Jack of all trades and stereotypical black sheep, Cara has been writing somewhat dark and morbid since that teen angst hit somewhere in the early 90’s- probably because her dad was a mortician. After pursuing a degree in English, she changed gears to photography and design in 2006… although she kept penning stories for fun while reading the works of Edgar Allen Poe, Oscar Wilde and Hemingway (whom she adores even though he was a huge douche canoe). In 2009, her life shifted considerably and she found herself writing Elegantly Wasted- helping her sort out a bunch of stupid feelings and other lame stuff.

She enjoys cynical debates, cupcakes, making her mother-in-law sew her aprons that she never wears, zombies, the Fifth Element and Tomb Raider. She gathers her life inspirations from Neil Gaiman, Julia Child and Paul Simon. When she isn’t out photographing her next project, she’s studying color, concept and design or writing stuff down in hopes it makes sense one day… or she’s on Pinterest.

Cara lives in Las Vegas with her husband, John and their three genetically altered dogs all of which have personal vendettas for the guy who cleans the pool.

Cara on Goodreads:

Cara on Twitter:

Cara contributes to:

Book release date: August 1, 2012 by Luna Station Press

Series website:

Elegantly Wasted on Goodreads:

Elegantly Wasted on Amazon:

Elegantly Wasted on Barnes and Noble:


Mr. Happiness

Today’s Brew:  Spicy Eggnog Coffee.  Still working on the holiday collection.

by Kristen

Every day on my way to work when I lived in Las Vegas, I passed by the same man at the same intersection.  Groundhog day, you say?  Well, that’s just the start of it.  This man dressed like Jimi Hendrix every day and stood on the corner of Sahara and Fort Apache, playing air guitar.  He never failed to make me smile.

When I talked to my friends who still lived in Vegas, I’d always ask if that guy was still hanging out at that intersection.  Everyone always knew exactly who I was talking about and yes, he was still there.

Thinking about posts for this month, I immediately thought of this guy.  I had no idea what his name was.  I just googled  “The guy who plays air guitar on Sahara and Fort Apache” and learned that my air guitar playing friend is known as Mr. Happiness.

It looks like he’s got some new outfits since I moved,  but he’s still going strong.  It sounds like he even had a documentary made about him.  I hate to direct anyone to Facebook, but this page is the best source of info I’ve found about him.

Post Navigation