Lust Bites

by Janine Ashbless


"I do not drink … coffee."


Bwa ha ha…


Vampires. They’re insatiable, they’re everywhere and they’re hungry for sex as well as blood. Gone are the days when they hung out in dingy castles in the Carpathians and stole the occasional filthy peasant baby for dinner. Nowadays it’s all sharp clothes and nightclubs and urban gangsterism, or exotic locales, designer drugs and hard liquor. And yes – they’re well into the sex thing these days. Omnisexual and sadistic, travel may have broadened their minds but they’re just as mean as ever ol’ Dracula was.


In Lust at First Bite, the new Black Lace anthology of sexy vampire short stories, you’ll find vampires in Venice, in Egypt and on the Ganges, in the theatre and the suburbs, Coney Island and remote hotels and the offices of media executives. And since four of us Lusties have stories in the collection, here’s your sneak peek:

---

The Oasis at Night by Madeline Moore

(Charles and Miriam are searching for the lost tomb of Cleopatra deep in the Egyptian desert…)

Charles shimmied down. He tongued orange in and out of her sex, until the mangled fruit disappeared down his throat. An inch from his eyes, her inner lips were delicate, and scarlet. Beneath her skin a vein pulsed so strongly he could count her heartbeats. He sucked one tender lip into his mouth. With it held between the lips of his mouth, he could feel the throb of her blood as it pulsed.

It was so tempting … He let his incisors sink into the flesh, just a tad, still divided by a thin sensitive film of flesh. She groaned, so he did it again and then released her pussy from his mouth like a beast of prey dropping its catch.

‘I could eat you, little bird,’ he said. He propped himself on his elbows and stretched his body the length of hers. ‘And I might. But not tonight.’

‘Tonight is all we have, Charles,’ she whispered.

‘I still need you,’ he whispered back.

He entered her then, roughly, in one hard thrust that travelled deep inside her tight tunnel. Six hard strokes and he’d had enough of it. Too soft, this tunnel, too yielding.

He pulled out, flipped her over, yanked her to all fours and was in her bum before she could take another ragged breath. The rougher he got, the louder she got. He wound his fist in her hair and tugged her head back. Her mouth dropped open and she was shrieking, which made him laugh. He couldn’t see the pulse in her throat but it didn’t matter any more, he could hear it, or was it his own pulse, his own heartbeat recklessly, wildly fuelling the monster between his legs.

---

Sometimes They Come Back by Portia Da Costa

(Richard, having walked out on his wife Mel, returns to their house in the hope of reconciliation…)

Sounds from upstairs made him nearly faint in an agony of mental pain.

It was voices. Mel’s and that of a man. Low with pleasure and ragged, as if deliciously close to orgasm.

He almost flew up the stairs, more sure footed now, his anguish lending him wings.

In the bedroom, as he burst in, exactly the tableau that he’d feared assaulted his eyes.


His Mel, astride another man, her body magnificent in torn black lingerie, her eyes wild with lust and hot dark glee as she gazed down at the pale muscular form of her lover. A lean man, ripped and powerful, with long flaxen hair.

Richard froze, unable to speak or move. He could do nothing but watch in a saturation of horror and grinding despair.

Slowly, slowly, Mel undulated and rocked on the body of her paramour, her slender form hypnotic in its grace and almost glowing, fluorescent with sensuality. Slowly, slowly she turned her head to the side and looked straight at Richard, her beautiful face a disdainful mask of passion. Her eyes still on him, she reached down to the apex of her thighs, where she sat on the slim hips of her lover, and languidly, almost insultingly, strummed her clit.

Her lips were red, decadently stained, and her neck was bleeding, just as the neck of the man beneath her was.

Only her blood, and her companion’s, was almost black.

---

The Blood of the Martyrs by Janine Ashbless

(Emily and her lover Paolo have accidentally released an undead medieval saint from his Venetian crypt…)

‘Ah.’ Aronne’s breath was hot in my lips. ‘This is sin.’

‘It will be forgiven,’ I whispered.

He stared. We were both trembling now. Ghost-pale, his cock sprang out into my grasp. Hot velvet skin moved under my hands as I measured his rigid length. I dared to look down. His prick was big and ruthlessly eager, not sharing his misgivings. A bead of moisture gleamed at the tip: no pearl, but a ruby.

I wanted to take the body and blood in my mouth.

Do this in remembrance of Me.

Stolen clothes. Stolen memories. They were too much for him. This saint had the appetites of a predator, whetted to a razor edge by years of deprivation and darkness. His eyes were scarlet reflective discs of light as he stooped and picked me up, jamming me against the chapel bars. And then he opened my loose pyjama jacket, the last pathetic piece of clothing between me and those jaws, and with immense care bit my breasts, over and over. His teeth were so sharp that the bites hurt comparatively little, but every puncture sent the lightning of Heaven crashing through my body. His tongue burned and soothed me simultaneously, lapping at my flesh. I wrapped my legs around his torso and knotted my hands in his white hair and rode the waves of shock and euphoria, surrendering myself to his strength and his need.

---

And last but not least…

El Alquimista by Madelynne Ellis

(Jessamine has gone to confront the vampire called the Alchemist over the death of her lover Billy…)

I’m like a furnace now, burning up. But the Alchemist never stops coaxing. ‘You shouldn’t have gone so long without a lover,’ he says. ‘Your hunger is consuming you. I can ease that. I can make it all go away. Just give me the word and we’ll make a bond.’

I want him; crave him with every ounce of my being, but the price he’s asking is far too high.

When he nicks my ear lobe, panic floods my veins and I rise up beneath him. I don’t escape. Our bodies just press closer, but he does release my wrists. ‘You must know how this works,’ he says. ‘I need to take a little the better to give.’

‘No. I saw what you did to Billy, you won’t take that from me.’

‘Are you implying that your boyfriend was bisexual? Do you imagine I fucked his arse as I took his blood?’

‘No!’ I don’t know what I’m protesting at: the implication that I’d imagined it or the image he is planting. Billy was true to me. This beast preyed upon him. They were never lovers.

But I can see them entwined now. Billy’s knees on the floor, his upper body supported by the white sofa and his hand on his cock, wanking himself while the Alchemist thrust roughly into his arse.

‘Stop it,’ I gasp. ‘Stop planting these images.’

‘Why?’ he laughs. ‘They’re turning you on.’

---

If you want to read more then you can buy Lust At First Bite from Amazon UK as of this week, or pre-order from Amazon US (out in January). Just the thing for those long Winter nights…

Sweet dreams!

xxx
Janine

by Janine Ashbless

Like vampires? Do their cold hearts and dark appetites make your blood run faster? Well lucky ol' you - because the all-vampire Black Lace short story anthology Lust at First Bite is out today in the UK (and if you can wait that long, in the US in January - pre-order now!).

15 erotic vampire tales for dark evenings and candlelight, including several by Lust Bites authors, ex-Lusties, and friends of the blog:

• Playing - Charlotte Stein
• The Blood of the Martyrs - Janine Ashbless
• Only the Beginning - Terri Pray
• The Funhouse is Closed Mondays - Kristina Lloyd
• Vampires, Limited - Lisabet Sarai
• Understudy - Angela Caperton
• Paso Doble - Rhiannon Leith
• Sometimes They Come Back - Portia Da Costa
• The Man-eaters - Carrie Williams
• El Alquimista - Madelynne Ellis
• There's a Sucker Born Every Minute - Sommer Marsden
• The Oasis at Night - Madeline Moore
• Left Hand Man - Mathilde Madden
• Flashback - A.D.R Forte
• Feasting - Kelly Maher

Tomorrow I'll be back with some tasty bite-sized morsels from our stories to sink your teeth into. In the meantime if you want to whet your appetite for vampires why not revisit our Magic Extending Post on the subject...

xxx
Janine

my true love sent to me:

Eight vamps a-vamping*


Seven Stetsons swinging

Six purring pussies

Five silver rings

Four bloody men

Three hundred Spartans

Two detectives dancing

And a werewolf tied to a tree!

~~~
*OK, so strictly speaking I didn't post eight images of pale and fangy vampires but eight images of much sexier, more robust men which I'm trying to pass off as relevant by claiming they're warding off vampires by having some vague crucifix thing going on around them. Um, did I get away with it? (Honestly, Jake Gyllenhaal is relevant. He's wearing a tiny little cross. Look! It's not just a gratuitous chest.)

The real eight vampires are in Lust Bites, the super hot vampire anthology from me, Portia Da Costa and Mathilde Madden, released in the US tomorrow! If my maths is correct, my novella, The Vampire's Heart, has four vampires, Portia's novella has one and Under Her Skin from Mathilde has three. So that's eight lots of sucky, bloody sexiness! Check out Ashley Lister's fabulous review here. Ashley writes: 'For those of you who want to see some of the UK’s greatest erotic authors telling torrid tales of virile vampires, Lust Bites has to be your next purchase.'

Also released tomorrow in the US is my third novel, Split, a darkly sexy tale of submission, bondage and puppetry set in the Yorkshire moors. Pop back this Saturday and I'll tell you a little more about it. I may also offer a prize!

Happy New Year everyone! Have a wonderful evening, and when the clock strikes midnight, please join me in raising a glass to the wonderfulness of sex, lust and dirty books. Wishing you all a happy and horny 2008!

Kristina X

By Mathilde Madden

And finally, we get to me.

I knew Kristina and Portia were doing modernish takes on the vampire tale - so I decided to go more traditional. I didn't want to write a historical but I did want all the traditional vampire thrills. Castles. Dungeons. Victorian Gothic. Mystery. Influences like The Turn of Screw, The Mysteries of Udolpho, Northanger Abbey and Rebecca.

I wanted a virginal innocent but resolutely plucky girl in peril. A super-sinister super-sexy vampire. And I wanted a pure gothic flurry of bloody castle walls and the snick of razor blades.

Under Her Skin takes place in the same paranormal universe as my Silver Werewolf books. Merle Cobalt is the daughter of the self-styled greatest vampire hunters in the world - still notorious twenty five years after their greatest coup: capturing the dangerous renegade human-hating vampire Darius Cole. Cole was handed over to the vampires themselves to face justice after his preaching of the outlawed vampire creed of Righteous Power - overthrowing humans and taking the world back for vampire kind.

But the Black Emeralds did not kill Cole - they sentenced him to live. To live his immortal life forever with no hope of joy or comfort in the dank dungeons of their castle. But now - somehow - Cole has escaped.

Cole's revenge is simple. Merle. He demands that Merle come and spend twenty five days with him in The Black Emerald Clan's castle. The same castle he was imprisoned in for twenty five years. This is the only way Merle can get hold of the antidote to the slow acting poison Cole has administered to her father.

Of course she agrees, and soon finds herself locked in Cole's own cell in the Black Emerald Castle dungeon.

Merle looks around the little dark cell where she's sitting. 25 years. It's impossible to imagine. The solitary confinement, the starvation. The chains had started to hurt her wrists after less than a day. What would this have felt like after twenty five years?

'Now you see how hard they had to work to break me?'

'Darius?'

'Hello Merle.'

She looks up and he's standing right there. Looming. His hair and clothes and eyes so dark in the gloom of the cell that his white skin seems to glow. She has to force her eyes away from his mesmerising face. But when she lowers her eyeline, she finds the dark fabric of his crotch is right in front of her.

So it's a relief when Darius drops into a crouch and smiles earnestly. 'You see what they did to me? Do you understand? Forced me to turn traitor. Made me renounce a set of beliefs they'd invented for me. Public humiliation. Sentenced to live. They did everything they could think of to make me suffer. Everything vicious and cruel. They wanted me to suffer forever. Why do you think they were so scared of me?'

His face is so elegantly pretty and perfectly nasty. She hates him. She knows she needs to keep remembering that. She takes a sharp breath and narrows her eyes. 'Because you were a murdering bastard. Because you are a murdering bastard. You're killing my father right now.'

'I know. It's very hard for me that that was what I had to do. I am sorry. Even after everything Charles Cobalt helped to do to me I know that know he is just a weakened old man now. I wish there had been another way.'

'There is. Let me go. Give me the antidote and leave them alone.'

'Leave them alone? Maybe I could do that. But leave you alone? Never.'

Again, she has to force herself to look away from him. She looks down at her dirty jeans. 'Why? What do you want with me if it isn't about them?' She pauses as a nasty thought catches her by surprise. 'I'm not a, not a virgin or anything. If it's that. If that's what you want. Well, I'm not.' And that's it - thinking about Cole wanting to take her virginity, which means thinking about him having sex with her – she's blushing. Hard. She hates the way her skin always betrays her at the most crucial moments. She tries to slow her breathing – an anti-blushing technique she read in a magazine once - but it's no use. Her face is getting hotter and hotter. And that just embarrasses her even more.

Suddenly – moving quick and sharp - Cole reaches out and catches hold of her chin. He runs the pad of his thumb slowly over her heated cheek. When he speaks his voice is slightly thick. He's very clearly and very suddenly aroused. Not bothering to try and hide it. 'God, oh. I love that you do that.'

She tries to pull away, but his grip on her is incredibly strong. 'Do what? Don't. Stop it.' She puts one palm flat on his chest in an attempt to push him away.

But he doesn't seem to really notice her protests. He strokes her cheek again, mesmerised. His touch is deliciously cool where she feels most heated. His voice is dark, slow and heavy. 'I love that you blush. It means I can see your blood. Under your skin. Do you blush anywhere else? Let me see. I want to see you. So beautiful. I want to see your skin, your pink.' He shoves her and she's forced back hard against the wall. He traps her there with his body and starts pulling at her T shirt, yanking it up.

'No! No! Stop.' Somehow she wrenches herself out of his grip and pulls her shirt back down.

Cole meets her eyes and seems to suddenly hear what she's saying. He takes his hands off her and stands up, taking a couple of stumbling steps backwards. He's shaking his head. 'Oh god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Your blood, it made me…' he says, backing away from her. 'It's just so difficult to… Oh.'

He bites his plump bottom lip and turns away.

She wants to tell him to wait, but she forces herself not to by scratching at the sore patches the chains made on her wrists.

Kristina Lloyd

'My story starts last autumn. I want to set it down because I understand now that I’ll never be able to leave this place. And I want you to remember me as a good person.'

So begins Split, my neo-Gothic tale of bondage and submission set in a puppet museum on the Yorkshire moors. And today it’s out in the UK along with Lust Bites, the hot volume of vampire erotica from me, Portia Da Costa and Mathilde Madden. (Sorry Yanks, you have to wait till January.)

Split tells the story of Kate, a woman who flees London and her boyfriend to take a job in a weird little village called Heddlestone. She doesn’t tell her boyfriend she’s leaving. Drawn by a strange compulsion, she simply vanishes. I am Kate Carter, five foot nothing, freckled and fair, pear-shaped but sprightly, a librarian on the run.

Kate lodges in the attic of Jake, the strange, beautiful puppeteer whose surreal, doll-filled house adjoins the museum. When Kate first meets Jake, she’s smitten.

He was too tall for his suit so he was all wrists and ankles, a man almost as gangly as his puppets. I know I’m a romantic fool, but my stomach really did flip. His hat was of battered brown leather, dark curls peeping beneath the brim, and his pale skin was dotted with a couple of moles. His nose was narrow, a little misshapen, and his cheekbones enviable, his face having a refined feminine bone structure, although his neck was strong. He reminded me of a deer, full of wild nervous grace, his stone-grey eyes at once timid and serene.

Jake’s social awkwardness is belied by a dark, sexual confidence and when he and Kate get together it seems as if, surrounded by puppets and isolated from the world, they’re in a realm where anything might happen. But Kate also desires Eddie, Jake’s brother, a thickly-muscled bruiser who’s smug, arrogant, contemptuous and crude. Although she dislikes him, Kate recognises some warped part of her finds him horribly thrilling. Soon she’s involved in a second dark relationship, and all the while she's haunted by a gathering sense that there's something very wrong about Heddlestone.

There’s a cold intimacy to this place and the brothers have drawn me closer to its dark, disturbed heart. They had me from the start, Jake with his beauty and that clever careful mind, Eddie with his arrogance that gets me right in the groin. Even now, I don’t know who I prefer. I’m split between them, relishing both but trusting neither. Lust has taken me to some strange places but none stranger than this.

Split is released today along with Lust Bites. This makes me very happy!

*
Something else which makes me very happy is being the first author in Love Honey’s newly-launched erotic online book club. Love Honey are running a huge promotion on my second, ever-so-slightly-controversial book, Asking for Trouble, and you can buy it over there for a ridiculous 99p. Yes, I'm dirt cheap! The book club looks fantastic. You can read an interview with me, join an Asking for Trouble discussion forum, and there are even questions for you to ponder. I confess, I’m nervous. Some people love Asking for Trouble, some people hate it. If you don’t already own it, now’s your chance. I doubt I will ever be 99p again. That’s so cheap, you may as well buy a vibrator while you’re there.

To celebrate all this happiness, I’m giving away a copy of Split and Lust Bites on my blog. Come on over to my place and add a comment. I am very friendly, so friendly that I'll say Lusties can play too.

by Portia Da Costa


I always wanted to write a vampire story. I wanted to write one way back in 1996, when I had the idea for GOTHIC BLUE. But at the time, I was advised that vampires=erotic was a bit of a cliché, and that Anne Rice had just about cornered the market in sexy vampires anyway... How bizarre does that sound nowadays, when vampires are one of the most popular themes, perhaps the most popular theme in paranormal erotic romance writing?

Anyway, knowing that I was tackling the vampire genre, my Black Lace chum Janine Ashbless was curious to know how a lover of nice guy heroes and Happily Ever After like me would portray an undead bloodsucker who preys on humans. So she sent me a bunch of questions about BUDDIES DON'T BITE...


Janine Ashbless) How long have you been writing paranormal erotica? Is it something you've always been interested in, or is it a taste that has evolved?

Portia Da Costa) I’ve actually been writing paranormal erotica since the early 80’s. The very first things I ever wrote were a quintet of erotic romance short stories in which the hero was a zombie. When I eventually reached publication standard, the first short story I ever had published – The Man in Black, which appeared in Forum – was a ghost story. My first full length paranormal novel was Gothic Blue, published in 1996. So you could say I’ve always been interested in the juxtaposition of sex and the supernatural.

JA) "Buddies Don't Bite" is the gentlest take on Vampires I think I've read - very romantic and emotional. What made you decide to reject the normal "arrogant predator" type?

PDC) It wasn’t so much that I rejected the ‘arrogant predator’ type, it was more that I was drawn to a different kind of vampire. I was interested in what would happen if a decent, noble, humane man became vampire and was able to retain those qualities of humanity. I wanted to write a proper romance and I used a classic category romance device, the ‘friends to lovers’ story, only where one of the friends just happened to be a vamp.



JA) Why do you think Vampires are so popular with readers? What is it about them that appeals to you in particular?

PDC) That’s hard to quantify. I think it must be something to do with the eternal youth and beauty, the preternatural strength, and the sensuality of taking blood at the neck. I think I probably like vamps for pretty much the same reason as the next reader, the unique blending of danger and sex.

JA) Is there a real life model for your vampire Zack?

PDC) Well, I’ve been going through a phase where many of my heroes are inspired by different faces of one of my favourite actors, Vincent D’Onofrio. Zack is very much a young, romantic Vincent, much as he appeared in the early scenes of the movie Salt On My Skin.

JA) I have a theory that people who like cats like Vampires. They're so much in common: the nocturnal lifestyle, the grace, the aloof independence, the recreational cruelty ... So, are you a big cat fan?

PDC) I’m totally devoted to cats. I’ve lived with them for nearly 30 years and I dote on them as my constant companions. Yes, they are cruel sometimes, but it’s simply a part of their nature, and because they are beautiful, I excuse them. I’m not keen on having to deal with the mice they ‘release’ into the house though!

JA) Zack's a virgin - is the experienced woman/uninitiated man a favourite theme of yours?

PDC) Yes, I think this must be a favourite theme of mine, although I don’t know why. I’ve had ‘innocent’ men in several of my books, including The Tutor, Lessons and Lovers and The Stranger. But my ‘innocents’ are always extremely quick studies and have great instincts where sex is concerned. ;)

JA) How do you feel about writing to novella length?

PDC) I thought it would be hard to write novellas. Too long for a short story, too short for a novel… But actually, I’ve found it quite easy. Almost second nature. It’s possibly because I’m not a great plotter, and the short length means there’s no space for a complex plot, so one of my simple ones works quite well.

JA) What gave you the idea for the wedding setting?

PDC) Well, it’s a classic setting for a romance novel or story, and I think I may perhaps have watched ‘Four Weddings and a Funeral’ around the time I was cooking up the idea.

JA) Who's your favourite TV/movie Vampire?

PDC) I think my favourite TV vamp will always be Spike, although I didn’t really start to like him until he began his long, tortuous struggle towards being a good human man again, despite his vampire state. He had many false steps and setbacks, and fell prey to his demon nature again and again, but in the end, he became a true hero. As for movie vamps, my favourites are the diverse Count Draculas of Gary Oldman and Frank Langella. In Gary's interpretation, even though the Count is a ruthless killer, some justification for his actions is offered in the story and in the nuances of his performance. In Frank's there's not quite so much of this justification, although he does give hints of the loneliness of his life and the persecution of his kind...


JA) If you were offered eternal beauty and youth in return for becoming one of the Children of the Night, would you be tempted?

PDC) Yes, I’d be tempted, but only if I could be one of my ‘good’ vampires, and had a like‑minded companion to walk beside me in the eternal night.

JA) Please give us an excerpt from Buddies Don't Bite...

PDC) Here you go, Janine... Teresa and her house buddy Zack are in the kitchen discussing a wedding invitation... and somehow they find themselves kissing!

He had the most glorious backside. Tight and hard and round like a brace of ripe apples. And when she grasped it, he growled in his throat in a most astonishing way. Deep and fierce, like the call of a jungle animal, it bounced off the kitchen walls and filled her ears. If she hadn’t had his tongue in her mouth, Teresa would have said, ‘What the fuck is going on?’

But their tongues were dancing and she felt like growling too.

Deep in her belly, a famished hunger was gnawing at her. It was a long while since she’d had good sex. A real, hard, long wonderful fuck. She’d held back with Steve, and had been hoping this weekend would be their romantic first time. But now, she thanked every lucky star in heaven that she hadn’t succumbed.

She’d never articulated it to herself, but she’d been waiting and saving herself for Zack, sure in the knowledge that her abstinence would be worth it.

Oh, I want you, she cried silently to him, massaging his sensational bottom, and squirreling herself around against his cock.

Zack’s answer was to growl again, a low feral sound. His lips crushed hers, his tongue thrusting, thrusting, just like the sex act. Where the kiss had been gentle and controlled at first, it was clear off the rails now. His mouth started to rove, moving roughly, messily, thrillingly over her face, along her jaw, as his hips rocked and jerked in that explicit rhythm that met and matched hers.

It was like being a horny teenager all over again, but magnified to the n’th degree. Every part of her was hot. They were rubbing against each other like crazy animals, and Teresa was the one making moaning noises now, unable to contain herself as Zack’s hands went all over the place. Her breasts. Her thighs. The cleft of her bottom. He was surveying her physical geography, and he was impatient. His fingers wriggled between their bodies, tugging at her skirt and searching for access to her sex.

And all the while he was kissing, licking, tasting… and nibbling.

Nibbling? More than that… as his mouth reached her throat, she suddenly yelped and jerked beneath him.

Dear God, that is so hot! He’s biting my neck!

It was pure sex… shocking and primal… Painful but in a way that made her hips lurch against him of their own accord, seeking the touch of his fingertips where they pressed against her panties.

Am I flying? This is weird…

She wriggled and parted her legs, not sure where the pleasure was… only knowing that it was like melting, dissolving, expiring… coming?

And then…

The rail-backed kitchen chair was hard beneath her thighs, and the glass cool in her hand. Her heart was thudding, and there was a silvery hum ringing in her ears. But despite this strange physical phenomenon and an accompanying sense of dislocation, she felt calm, almost serene… apart from a vague prickle of curiosity. She’d been panicking and fretting about something, but it was okay now. Zack had come up with a solution, hadn’t he?

Looking up, she was surprised to see him standing by the sink. His mouth was uncharacteristically tense, his lips tightly pursed and his eyes looked huge and very dark. She felt a jolt of worry. Had her silly invitation distressed him?

‘Are you okay, Zack? You’re not sickening for something are you? You don’t have to come to the wedding, you know… It’s wonderful of you to offer and God knows I appreciate it. But I’m a big girl. I think I’ll be okay.’

There was a long pause. Zack’s eyes seemed to skitter a bit, and he pressed his knuckle against his lips, as if pondering.

What’s the matter with him? He’s not usually like this.

As she watched, Zack gave one long, fluttering, almost slow motion blink, squared his shoulders and lowered his hand to rest it on the forearm he had wrapped around him, reacquiring his stillness.

'I’d like to go to… I need to get out more.’ He gave her a cautious smile, his white teeth glinting. ‘It’ll be a change for me… all this studying and researching. I need to kick over the traces and have some fun.’

Um… yes, I suppose so.’

But later, when he’d returned to his books, his research and his computer, Teresa was left wondering about Zack’s sudden decision. Wondering about that, and a few other things…

Like… why were her lips so tender, as if she’d been kissed to within an inch of her life?

And what the hell was that bright red mark on her neck?

BUDDIES DON'T BITE is part of the Lust Bites anthology along with two other stunning vamp novellas written by awesome Lustbiters Kristina Lloyd and Mathilde Madden. It's published on 8th Nov 07 in the UK and on 1st Jan 08 in the US. If you'd like to win a copy of Lust Bites and a copy of my vintage paranormal erotic romance, GOTHIC BLUE, please leave a comment on this post and you'll go into a prize draw.

And finally here's a treat for Janine in the form of another Count Dracula! ;)

Images of Zachary Trevelyan courtesy of The Velocity of Vincent.

'Vampire Pleasure' image by 'betterthantheworst'

by Kristina Lloyd
This week sees the UK release of Lust Bites, the first in a new line of novella volumes from Black Lace. Lust Bites might sound as if it’s a book revealing the sordid truth about members of this blog but it’s not. We’re holding out for lots more money on that one. Lust Bites is all about vampires: three sexy tales of love, lust and blood. Next year, the novella line continues with more volumes of paranormal erotica, many penned by members of Lust Bites. That's Lust Bites, the blog. Are you still with me?

My novella, The Vampire’s Heart, is, quite thrillingly, the first story in the first collection. Here’s a little bit about it.

The Vampire’s Heart

The action takes place in the Arctic. The permanent dark of winter is passing and the sun’s about to rise for the first time that year. You couldn’t escape the stories of this place. Sometimes, it was a mythical land where ancient explorers sailed through peppermint green seas, mistaking icebergs for giant swans and narwhals for aquatic unicorns. Over the centuries, reports had come back of ghostly mountains, mock suns and nights lit with curtains of coloured phosphorescence. Sometimes, it was a frozen desert, tempting men onto foolish, heroic quests. Their stories hung in the emptiness, tales of survival and loss; of horror and madness; of people on the borderline between life and death. And, of course, there were many untold stories too, stories with no one left to tell them.

Billy is a butch, modern vampire. His hair is clipped into a blond mohawk, and he’s broad chested and lighty-tanned, a punkish military figure in khakis, tight T-shirt and scuffed army boots. He’s hot, hard, mean and angry. Centuries ago, he accidentally killed the woman he loved and now she’s returned to earth, reborn as Esther. Fearing his lust could destroy her again, Billy has exiled himself to the Arctic with his two vampire lovers.

Simeon is an old school vamp. A pallid lanky creature with bony features and long black hair, he had that air of Transylvanian nobility that Billy really went for. The two men had been together centuries (though it was a bit on-off) and, having no reflections, were more familiar with each other’s faces than their own. ‘I don’t know where you end and I begin,’ Simeon used to say in the nineteenth century when they were tragically in love, as was the fashion.

Suzanne, Simeon’s cousin, is flighty, frivolous, beautiful and cruel. The three vampires live at Hope’s End, a high-tech dome hidden from view. To the untrained eye, Hope’s End, was nothing but a blip on the landscape, a hump of snow in a waste of ice. A Cold War relic modelled on igloo curves, it had fallen into the hands of the vampire community when one or two significant maps had been redrawn, and one or two significant people had been killed, easy things to achieve when there are vampires in high places. Mortals might be surprised by the number of monsters at the Pentagon.

They share their home with their pet cat, Renfield, a masturbating Arctic vampire pedigree and, since food is scarce, they survive primarily on a synthetic blood substitute, Blud. Billy, repulsed by his vampire-self and desperate to keep Esther safe from his hunger, hasn’t tasted human blood for over two decades. The urge to feed is still strong. Sometimes Simeon went to the coast and returned with tales of polar bears and all the blubber he had to bite through. But Billy knew he fed on the Inuit. He could see the flush in his cheeks and it made him so hot. When Simeon had tasted mortals, Billy wanted to fuck his brains out.

Esther works for a holiday company, White Sky Adventures, and is trekking in the Arctic with a team of five other mortals. The closer they get to Hope’s End, the more Billy’s lust intensifies. Simeon and Suzanne, jealous of Billy’s obsession for Esther, are eager to see the back of her. Weary of drinking Blud, they have no qualms about the prospect of dispatching the entire team. Billy must protect Esther from his lovers but it’s hellishly difficult when her physical presence threatens to destroy his willpower and turn him into the insatiable vampire he truly is.

A Sexy Snip of Hot Gay Vampire Loving:

Billy slammed Simeon’s body to the wall once more. His erection was thickening and he pressed it against Simeon’s butt.

‘It’s not even the same woman,’ accused Simeon. ‘It was centuries ago. Ever heard the phrase time to move on?’

‘It’s the same soul,’ breathed Billy.

‘And that gets you hard, does it?’

Billy grasped a handful of Simeon’s hair, pulling his head back so his throat arched. His Adam’s apple made a voluptuous jut in that long stubble-flecked neck, a sight that flooded Billy with memories. ‘Oh, if you were mortal.’

‘And what?’ challenged Simeon in a stretched, reedy voice. ‘You’d do what you did to her? Love me to death? Or what you did to me? Make me a vampire, possess me and make me yours?’

Billy tugged Simeon’s head back still further, his grip tightening on his hair.

‘You don’t give a person room to breathe,’ wheezed Simeon. ‘That’s not love, that’s suffocation.’

Billy jerked Simeon away from the wall, clasping arm and hair to frogmarch him across the room. He forced him over the pool table, pressing his head onto the turquoise baize. The white ball span away and bounced off the side cushion.

‘You’re jealous,’ murmured Billy. He tugged Simeon’s flies open, pushing down his clothes to bare his pale slender ass, wisps of dark hair fringing his crack. Simeon’s erection bounced free and Billy leaned over him, wrapping his fingers around that big sturdy shaft. He wanked him gently. ‘Jealous,’ mocked Billy, his lips behind Simeon’s ear.

Simeon lay still, breathing hard and saying nothing as Billy’s fist shunted along his cock, and Billy’s crotch dug into his buttocks. After a while, in a tender mannered voice, Simeon whispered, ‘Yes. I’m jealous. What of it?’

A surge of respect and lust nearly knocked Billy for six. Hurriedly, he unzipped and let his pants drop to his knees. ‘Get your top off,’ he said in a quiet command and Simeon obliged. He groaned as Billy rubbed saliva into the puckered bud of his asshole, and worked his fingers in to open him up. Billy pumped his fingers, gazing at the shifting sinew of Simeon’s back, at the wings of his shoulder blades and the way candleflame and shadow rippled over his ivory skin.

It was a perfect back. Billy withdrew and clasped his own cock, blood-hard in his fist. He loved Simeon like this: submissive after a row, horny, sluttish and spread. He spat onto his fingers, moistening himself before pushing at Simeon’s ring with his fat, flushed glans.

‘You fucker,’ said Billy tenderly. Slowly, he eased forward, meeting the circlet of muscle, forcing himself past its resistance as Simeon exulted and cursed, fingernails clawing the turquoise cloth. Both vampires groaned deeply as Billy slid his meat into the snug silky depths of his lover’s ass.

Billy held his breath, his hand against the small of Simeon’s back, relishing the hot squeeze around his swollen cock.

‘Oh, man,’ groaned Simeon. ‘You complete me.’

*Lust Bites is published on 8th November in the UK and on January 1st in the US, the very same day that my third novel, Split - aka Wuthering Heights with bondage - is released. If you want to win a copy of Lust Bites and Split, just add a comment to this post and you're in with a chance.

by Madelynne Ellis et al.

We're trying something new at Lust Bites today, the magic extendy post. Yep, you read that right, it starts off small and grows with stimulation! So hang on to that refresh button and don't be surprised if there's some gnashing of fangs along the way.

Vampires are such a horror (and erotica) genre staple that it's easy to forget that the modern image of the gentleman of the night only dates back a couple of centuries, to a fateful night on the banks of Lake Geneva, Switzerland.


Prior to Dr John Polidori's Byronesque "Vampyre", our fanged fiends were typically uncultured monsters, crawling around graveyards and generally making Nosferatu look like Brad Pitt.


Well today on Lust Bites (see we're even appropriately named) we're celebrating our favourite Vamps. The ladies will be along during the day to introduce you to their personal favourites. I'm expecting a certain Angel to sneak his way in there amongst the Draculas and Lestats, along with a few less obvious surprises, and of course we'd love you all to share you're own favourite vampires, be they from literature, stage or screen.

Anyway, to start us all off, I offer you my personal Vampire favourite, this is Alex (aka Julian Sands in Tale of a Vampire), doing what Vampires do best. As for why I love him, well you only have to look here and here to know that I like them bad, angst-ridden and bloody.

Janine Ashbless says: Well, watch me throw down the glove! I'm the voice of dissent today, because vampires do nothing for me. I mean - I am happy with them as predators, or as vehicles for introducing dominance and/or a little necrophilia to an erotic story; it's when the author wants to use them as characters that my eyes glaze over. Why? This is epitomised by a montage scene in Interview with a Vampire where years pass over New Orleans. In these centuries human beings with their pitiful short lives have created beautiful art and architecture, established complex societies and communities, turned swampland into a thriving city. What have the vampires, with their eternal youth and their physical superiority and their accumulated experience, achieved? Well, they've killed some people and drunk absinthe. And one of them plays the piano a bit. Boring, boring bastards.

Having said that ... I do have a soft spot (and you can guess where) for Dracula in Dracula 2000 (or Dracula 2001 in Europe because the film got there later). He's a mean predator, he's Gerard Butler and he has a backstory so clever that I smote my head and shrieked "Why didn't I think of that?!"

Olivia Knight says: Whereas I love vampires because they're supercilious, arrogant, knowing, cultured, and effeminate. It's not always what one wants in a man, but they're top of the "what I look for in a vampire" list. The blood-letting is an unfortunate side-effect for me; the eternal rage and worldweary ennui of perpetual youth is delicious. They come with the added advantage that, being nearly immortal, they probably know more than me, and being a jumped-up supercilious arrogant little know-it-all myself, I appreciate occasionally being trumped. Mostly, though, Lestat's goth-rock and intensity are what catch in my throat. (Nothing to do with the narrow planes and sharp angles of his face at all)
One more thought - the moment of blood-exchange (preferably without the actual dead-body bit afterwards), the feeling what someone else feels, gaining access to their heads - closer than sex, more heated than mind-reading, complete and perfect union: yes, please.

Portia Da Costa - me like Frank Langella as Dracula. :) Suave.Seductive.Romantic.Mass Murderer - the Count who never flashed his fangs.

Madelynne Ellis back again. Darn I couldn't resist coming back for some more. Here's a snippet from my tale, Lust for Blood, in Love on the Dark Side. Because, you know Lucius is one of my favourites.

And he advances.

Perversely, he's prettier now than he was on the edge of the dance floor. It's an ethereal, otherworldly sort of beauty, frighteningly cold, and horribly arousing. A montage of images enters my mind from somewhere outside: licking the blood from his face, smearing it across his chest, him going down on me while I bleed. I can see his tongue delving between my pussy lips, and somehow that seems horribly wrong.

There's a girl dying, right now, because of him.

My sensible self fights its way through the fog in my brain, yelling: "Run! Run! You stupid bitch." But I don't run. I'm numbed. I just shuffle backward until I hit the sinks, which dig into my back, cold and impossibly real.

"What are you doing to me? Don't come any closer!"

My fist tightens around my phone and I wish for the nineties and something a bit heavier. This slender silver shell won't cause more than a slight bruise before it snaps.

"What am I doing to you?" His voice is in my head. His eyebrow asks the question. "I'm not the one with these fantasies."

Alison Tyler says: I can’t think what my first vampire movie was. I’m sort of afraid to admit that it might have been Once Bitten! But I am definitely a fan—in fiction and film, porn and prose. Kiefer is one of my favorites, but I think that Bowie will win the prize for me this time.



By Kate Pearce
I don't really get the whole vampire visual, probably because I'm a wussy and hate the sight and smell of blood. But, I do occasionally like to read vampire romances and two series really impressed me this year from J R Ward and Lynn Viehl. They are both quite different, Ward being more like an addiction while Viehl's are more gruesome and bone cracking.


Apologies for the Amazon tags but I'm rushing a bit here!

Deanna Ashford - I just go for sexy, brooding reformed vampires like Angel and Henry Fitzroy in Blood Ties. I find the fact that they are in some way trying to atone for past actions highly compelling.

Kristina Lloyd says: OK, so I realise David Beckham isn't actually a vampire, and that he doesn't look much like one either. However, he does look like my vampire, Billy, from my novella, The Vampire's Heart. There was a moment on Lust Bites back in January when Mat posted a pic of Becks looking mean and dirty in his army gear. I fell in love, right there and then, and you all saw me do it. And you can see it again right here! I was plotting my vampire novella at the time and I'd already invented Billy - a muscled vamp, blond mohawk, army gear, yum-fucking-yum. And there was Becks on our blog, my lead vampire come to life! Months later, and the novella's about to be published - next Thursday in the UK and January 1st in the US - in a volume called Lust Bites! Ain't life strange? Next week, I'll be here with Portia and Mathilde to tell you more about the book. Did I just do Becks and a shameless plug in one paragraph? I think I peaked.

Teresa Noelle Roberts:
I have mixed feelings about vampires, I have to admit. When I think about the genre too much, I get irked. They're so damn angsty and so many of them shallow, stuck in perennial adolescence despite their great age. You're five hundred years old and hanging out in a nightclub, Mr. Vamp. What's with that?

That said, I can't help picking up vampire-themed books, even if a lot of them don't end up being keepers. What's the fascination? Well, beside the obvious fact that vampires always seem to be preternaturally attractive and often kinky, it's the notion of defeating death.

I started reading Anne Rice back in the 80s with my best friend Gregg, who was gay. I honestly don't know if the books would have fascinated us so much if we hadn't secretly wanted some sexy supernatural force to offer us an escape clause from the mortality that was bearing down on so many of our friends. (Alas, Lestat didn't appear to whisk Gregg away before AIDS did, but I've had the occasional dream in which he appears as an aimable, bookish vampire. He once told me that, gifted with eternal life, he'd spend a lot of it catching up on his reading.)

Oh, wait a minute, this was supposed to be cheerful and sexy, right? I'll throw in a vote for one of my favorite vampires being Jean-Claude from Laurell K. Hamilton's Anita Blake series. The flashy clothes and the "ma petite" get annoying, to be sure, but I love the fact that he's not, overall, filled with angst about being a vampire. He regrets things he's done in his long life, he's haunted by past experiences, but overall, he thinks being a vampire is pretty damn neat. Plus, he's a very incubus-like vampire; he gets more from the feeding if his "donor" is turned on, which sounds good to me.

Dayle Dermatis (aka 1/2 Sophie Mouette and Sarah Dale) checking in!

I don't go for angst. I don't go for brooding. But I do go for cheeky bad
boys, and that's why I love Spike: