I’m thinking of wrapping it up as it’s getting lengthy. Not surprising when I’ve been working on it for over a century. On my last word count check, it was nearing 700,000, which is more thanWar and Peace.
I guess I’ve had a lot to say for myself, but I think it makes for good reading. I would like to give myself a happy ending (for the book, not the other kind!) so I’ll need to write Damian into it. I’ve been thinking of adding him in asa modern Dickensian-type character called Dimpleton Rinks because he does have such a cute dimple when he smiles ...
Twenty minutes later, I get back to writing after having had a lovely daydream about Dimpleton Rinks doing naughty things to me with his large cock. I don’t think the story will suffer if I add in some more erotic scenes. Sex sells, as they say.
I’ll let Hester read it and see what she thinks. She likes spicy romances. Sadie’s not much of a reader; she prefers audiobooks, but she’s welcome to read it too if she wants since she’s in it from 1921 onwards.
I know her, though; she’ll want me to change it if she doesn’t agree with how I’ve portrayed her. But I reserve my right as the author to write anything I damn well want, even if it offends her delicate sensibilities. Hmm, I might not let her read it after all.
My phone lights up with a invite from Damian to come to his for a movie. I smile to myself. Last time I went round, there wasn’t much movie watching happening.
***
Three hours later, I’m heading home, my pussy throbbing pleasantly. We began a movie, but the good doctor wanted to christen his new bed. And who was I to say no? Besides,it was another vampire movie, and I’ve seen them all.
Damian said I could sleep over, but I know he’s tired after a busy day at work. So I stayed with him until he fell asleep, rubbing circles on his back.
I’m walking down the road to the bus stop and recalling the evening when my solar plexus starts pulsating madly. It could be because I’ve been thinking about Damian naked, but I know it isn’t.
Oh no. Not here, not now!
Out of the corner of my eye, a sleek black car keeps pace with me, and I start walking faster. I try not to look at it and keep moving, but the tugging sensation worsens.
A low throaty chuckle emits from my right, and I turn my head slightly to see the tinted window has been lowered.
‘Hello, Florence. Still looking as lovely as ever, my beauty. Even after a century.’ Alexander’s amused voice floats from the depths of the pitch-black car. I can’t see him, but the scent of roses wafts from the open window. The smell of death and fear.
I walk faster, fists clenched, purple spots pricking the edges of my vision.
‘Leave me alone!’
‘No, my love. You knew there would be consequences for your actions. Too bad you won’t get to say goodbye to that mortal you’ve been toying with. But it never would have worked out anyway.’
The car pulls to a stop and in one blink I’m next to it, reaching for the door handle against my will.
‘Get in. You and I are going for a drive.’
Oh fuck, I’m going to die tonight … and then he’s coming back for Damian.
Alexander huffs a laugh. ‘You always were astute, my darling.’
No, I can’t let him kill me—I have to rescue Damian.
The thought of my lovely boyfriend being ripped to shreds by this monster jerks me out the stupor he’s put me in. I yank my hand away from the car door as if it’s burning.
‘Fuckoff!’ I scream, backing away so quickly that I nearly knock over an older lady walking a poodle.
‘Is he harassing you, dear? Bloody perv, I’ll take care of him.’ Whipping out her phone she punches in 999. ‘Police please.’ She walks around to the front of the car to read off his number plate in a loud voice causing Alexander to growl in annoyance. The poodle is barking and going nuts, so I don’t wait around, and sprint back to Damian’s flat. Phew, saved by a vigilant dog walker!
It’s stupid and reckless as anyone could see me, but I choose a darkened spot at least and clamber up to the roof—not an easy feat in a long skirt and a corset. Lowering myself to the top-floor apartment, I bang on the window.
A sleepy Damian, wearing a T-shirt and boxers, heaves itup. ‘Hey, did you forget—’
‘No time to explain. Emergency.’
Before he can protest, I’ve reached in, plucked him from the room, and flown off towards the Old Town. We’re cheek to cheek with his arms looped around my neck and my arms gripping tightly around his waist. Damian’s shocked breath rasps in my ear, and his galloping heart is making it difficult for me to concentrate.
But I need to as I’ve only ever flown with Sadie. We were practising one night in case we needed to get away quickly from Alexander, and I dropped her. She landed on her feet in a graveyard, but she kept harping on about it for years afterward.
