Bring it Back(List) Light Up the Night by PG Forte

So, a couple of weeks ago I ran across the following meme:

And it reminded me of the following scene from Light Up the Night (which is going to be FREE for five days starting on Christmas day!). In this scene Heather is arguing with her sire, Marc, about who she is and isn't allowed to date. 

Oh, and in case you aren't familiar with the Children of Night/Beyond the CofN series, everyone mentioned in this post (well, not Lesley Gore, obviously) are vampires. 

This is an age gap story. For reference, Heather was a teenage runaway when she was turned (against her will) just a year or two earlier. Marc is NOT the guy who turned her, but IS her "guardian" now (long story) and super-protective. He was born in 1969--which makes him really young by vampire standards, not so much by Heather's Gen Z standards.  Drew and Elise, OTOH, are both several hundred years old.

“I thought you liked Drew. Aren’t you supposed to be friends, or something?”

“I do like him. And of course, we’re friends. Did you really think I’d have trusted just anyone to look after you? I don’t like being the bad guy. I don’t like making the people I care about unhappy. But he’s just too damn old for you. There’s no getting around that.”

“And how much older than you is Elise?”

“That’s different.”

“No, it really isn’t. It’s a double standard—and that’s not different at all.” She shook her head. “You know it’s funny. People keep talking about how we’re a new type of vampire clan. They say we’re re-writing the rules and making history, and blah, blah, blah. And I’m not seeing it. But I do like the way it sounds. And I think it’s something we could maybe lean into a little harder. And you know where a good place to start would be?  If you let me make my own decisions about who I get involved with. It’s like the song says: you don’t own me.”

Marc frowned. “Wait. Did you just quote Lesley Gore at me?”

“No?” Heather replied. “I don’t even know who that is.”

“She was a singer. She’s dead now, but she was very popular during the sixties. That song was one of her biggest hits.” 

“Oh. Well, then maybe I did. But all I know is the song. And only that one part. I remember it from a movie I saw when I was a kid. I think the song was old then.” She studied him for a moment then asked, “So, you must be reallyold, huh?”

“Oh, thank you very much. Not that old, no.”

“If you say so.”

Marc shot her an amused look. “You know, someday, when you’re my age—which, by the way, is going to come along a whole lot sooner than you apparently think—I’m going to remind you of this conversation and ask you how old you feel then.” He shook his head and added, mockingly, “And you say you’re not a kid.”

“Yeah, because I’m not,” Heather replied. “Just because I’m going to look like a kid forever doesn’t mean you get to treat me like one. We’re not living in the nineteen-hundreds anymore.”

“Don’t you mean the eighteen-hundreds?  Although I wouldn’t know anything about that, since I wasn’t alive back then. You know who you could ask, though—right? That’d be Drew. Because he lived through that entire century, not to mention the previous two. Or maybe even the previous three. I don’t know for sure.”

“Nice try. But no. I said the nineteen-hundreds and that’s what I meant. Didn’t you ever see West Side Story? Or Titanic? Endless Love? The Notebook?”

“Wait—are you talking about movies? I thought we were discussing real life?”

“We are. But all those movies I mentioned were set in the nineteen-hundreds. In fact, I think they were filmed then, too. So, they’re probably reasonably accurate depictions of the idiotic notions you all had back then.”

Light Up the Night

A Children of Night/Ugly Christmas Sweater Story

Her love will light up his night. If they both can survive that long. 

 

Heather is having the worst Christmas ever! Or, at least, the worst Christmas since she was forced to become a vampire. Her sire's distracted, her nest-mates have forgotten her existence, and a bunch of weirdos have taken over her lair. The only bright spot in her life right now is Drew--who didn't even used to like her! She knows he's coming around, but that's not good enough. She wants more. She wants everything. She wants him. And she's not giving up. 

 

Drew Geiger gave up on love a long time ago. Such tender emotions have no place in a vampire's heart. But, somehow, the girl he once described as a "feral kitten" has got her claws in him, and she's not letting go. That would be fine, if only someone didn't want her dead--and if her sire didn't still inconveniently remember that it was Drew who'd once suggested that maybe she'd be better off that way.

​

***This story features characters from the Children of Night series. It takes place between books six and seven in the series and follows Going Back to Find You.***

https://books2read.com/LightNight

A Whole New World...

A funny thing happened on the way to tying up a loose thread. Initially, when I wrote and released Light Up the Night as a shorter story than originally planned (in order to fit the length requirements of the anthology it was scheduled to appear in), I figured I'd go back and add a few scenes in alternate POVs, expand a little on what was already there, and be done with it.

Not so fast, said my muse. These couple of scenes and alternate POVs are not so much a subplot as a whole separate story. A story in which your vampires must confront a werewolf pack. How is that going to fit in with the sweet friends-to-lovers, age gap vampire Christmas story you've got going on?

Well, she was right. Muses generally are, after all. So I looked around, noticed that someone was putting together a shifter-themed newsletter builder.  Perfect, I thought. I'll write a second short story--vampires vs werewolves--and release it in that.

So, I signed up. I thought up a title for the new story, created a cover for it, and wrote down a quick outline, and...a somewhat ridiculous amount of time later. Weeks, at least. Probably more like months. It occurred to me that, fabulous as this story is, and happy though I am to be giving my h/h an HEA...this is a book about vampires who have some dealings with werewolves. And the anthology I've signed myself up for is allllll about the shifters. 

So. Back to the drawing board.

Ya know what...my muse had the nerve to say, at that point, peeking out from wherever she'd been sneakily hiding. Vampires and werewolves practically beg for the Romeo and Juliet treatment--different ending, of course. Why don't you have one of your vampires fall in love with one of the werewolves. 

Now, I'm getting annoyed because this is supposed to be a short story. If I add a whole new subplot to it, I'm right back where I started, with a long ass book. Also: A, all of the vampires that were slated to be in the story are already spoken for and B, how does this love story end? Does the werewolf leave home to be with their insta-love vampire? Does my vampire leave the nest and move in with a werewolf pack? At Christmas time???

It was at about this point that DepositPhoto ran one of their sales. And, armed with fresh credits I  went on a cover search (for an entirely different story, of course) and...I found my story. And it's nothing like I  thought it would be...well, it does have sort of a Romeo and Juliet vibe. Not the happy kind, either. It's got a Cinderella vibe, too, but that's beside the point. It involves an entirely new vampire, and it takes place at least several weeks before the original story does, so that these characters get to come in and play a brief part in that story, too. 

And, of course, now I have a whole new series to write and a whole new shifter world to play in. 

Here's the blurb. And a version of the cover--it's the start of a whole new series, it needs a new look. Font choices are still in the "well, I kind of like that. I think," stage. 

The Sierra Nevada foothills have been vampire Josiah Lodge’s hunting grounds for nearly two centuries. Alone since a lover’s betrayal cost him his nest, the former trapper-turned-wild-crafter has given up on ever again finding love or acceptance. If he didn’t have to eat, he’d never venture out of his woods again. But needs must.

​When Coldpelt (Cole) Moonwalker’s true shifter nature asserted itself, he was judged an abomination and cast out of his pack. Without a territory to call his own, he’s constantly on the move, constantly in danger—which is how he ends up passed out and injured on Josh’s front porch. While Cole dreams of someday finding a place where he can belong, he knows that place can never be with the scarred and surly vampire who undoubtedly has the blood of Cole’s people on his hands.

​Will the attraction they feel for one another allow these natural enemies to overcome their sense of mutual distrust? Is enemies with benefits even a thing? Find out when the FREE anthology Shifter Fever debuts April 1st.

Bring It Back(list) In the Dark by PG Forte

 I feel like I've posted this before. Because Thanksgiving is coming and this is my favorite (for which read ONLY) Thanksgiving Day scene. I do have a book in the works that is actually set at Thanksgiving, but until that's done, I'll just have to make do with Grumpy Vampire Thanksgiving. It's from In the Dark (still one of my favorites, still not a romance) the very first book in the Children of Night series. ALTHOUGH...there's a prequel of sorts in the works. If all goes well, that will release next September as part of the Rejected by the Immortal anthology (available for preorder now. links below). And I  do have a new vampire Christmas story releasing next month...more about that Tuesday. 

But, for now, Happy Thanksgiving from Conrad and crew!

When you live forever, a few mistakes are bound to happen. 

Vampire Conrad Quintano has been around for centuries -- long enough to know falling for a human is a terrible idea. Much less falling for adventure-seeking hippie Desert Rose and agreeing to raise her babies. 

Raised in virtual isolation, Marc and Julie Fischer have never known their unique status in the world. But once they're in San Francisco, the family reunion is nothing like they anticipated and they're thrust into a world they're completely unprepared for.

Buy it here: https://books2read.com/u/49nGpX

Exerpt:Thursday, November 28th, 1968

Thanksgiving Day

“All I’m saying is that the picnic in the park was a total blast and you missed out on a really great party today.”

Desert Rose was pouting. Arms crossed, her posture rigid, she glared sullenly at Conrad from one end of his couch. Lying comfortably against the cushions at the other end, he smiled back at her indulgently. He hadn’t been expecting to see her here this evening. Even though she’d taken to spending nearly every weekend with him, tonight was Thursday—definitely part of the week, as far as he was concerned. In her mind, however, the fact that it was Thanksgiving apparently made it the start of the weekend. 

“I told you all about it when I was here last weekend. I was really hoping you’d show. You’d have liked it.”

“Yes, I’m sure I would have.” Enough talk now. Conrad reached for the girl and pulled her toward him. He rearranged her limbs until she was reclining against his chest with her head resting on his shoulder, her long, dark hair swept to one side. Unexpected, yes, he thought, as he began to lick lazily at her neck. But definitely not unwelcome.Three days was long enough to go without. He’d grown quite addicted to the taste of her over the course of the past month—which would have worried him, if he’d been planning on turning her. He wasn’t. “I’m sorry I missed your picnic today. It sounds like it was a…real happening scene.” 

A strangled noise, emanating from the vicinity of the secretary desk on the other side of the room, greeted Conrad’s observation. He glanced up, his face breaking into a wide grin at the sight of Armand’s pained expression. 

“A happening scene? Mon Dieu.” 

“Well, it was,” Desert Rose insisted as she settled deeper into Conrad’s embrace, her eyes closed, her neck exposed. “With music and dancing and...just crowds of people. And more food than…well, than you’ve probably ever seen in your life.” 

Armand’s eyes grew smoky as he gazed at the girl. His tongue danced lightly across the points of his teeth. He looked mesmerized, enchanted. He looked hungry. 

Mine. Conrad stilled. It took a conscious effort to tamp down the unreasoning jealousy that was once again threatening to burn holes in his gut. Luckily, Armand seemed to collect himself before too much time had passed. A shaky sigh escaped his lips as he shook his head and went back to work, writing checks to pay the monthly bills. Conrad relaxed as well, and quietly sank his teeth into the girl’s waiting neck.

“Corn and beans and squash and cranberry sauce and those little pearl onions,” she continued her recital, in the slightly dreamy tone that indicated she was so relaxed she hadn’t even noticed Conrad’s feasting at her throat. “And mashed potatoes, scalloped potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, peas, three kinds of pie, a big chocolate cake. Not to mention homemade bread and biscuits and pumpkin soup. Oh, and there was even an entire turkey made out of tofu.”

“It sounds delightful.” Conrad raised his head. “Armand?”

“Oui?” 

“Qu’est-ce que c’est…toe-foo?”

Armand looked up again, his face perplexed. “Je ne sais pas,” he replied with a shrug. Then, his face clearing, he snapped his fingers. “ Ah, non, non, non. Il est Chinois. It’s something to do with soybeans. A kind of a paste, I think?”

“Soybeans? Vraiment?” Conrad shook his head and went back to his meal. Soybean turkeys. What would they think of next? He could still eat human food, if he had to, but it had very little taste and no nutritional value for him, so he rarely bothered. In the past, of course, things had been different and he’d frequently been forced to eat regular meals as part of his attempts to pass for human. He hadn’t felt the need for such subterfuge in quite some time, however, and being as he was now a man of some means and could afford not to eat, he no longer did.

“I wish you’d been there,” Desert Rose murmured, still pouting. “You could have met some of my friends.”

“I’m sure that would have been very charming,” Conrad lied and, sensing she was growing restless, quickly licked the wounds shut and released her. “But, you know, mignonne, Armand is Canadian and they don’t really celebrate Thanksgiving in his country. It would have been rude to leave him alone.”

 “Well, you could have come too,” she said, sitting up and gazing earnestly at Armand. “All sorts of people were there.” 

“Merci, chérie.” Armand smiled at her. “And, for the record, we do celebrate Thanksgiving in Canada. It’s just not all about the food for us.” He cast a sly glance in Conrad’s direction. “But, you know, Conrad is not from this country originally either. So you can’t really expect him to appreciate the delights of all your traditional American dishes. Like tofu, for example.”

“You’re not American?” Eyes wide, she stared at Conrad. “Where are you from?”

“Originally?” Conrad frowned. He had to think about that for a moment. The part of Europe he hailed from had been called many different things over the centuries, most of which would mean nothing to her. “Rome,” he answered, finally, taking the easy way out.

“So, does that mean you’re like…Italian?” 

“Close enough,” he said, ignoring Armand when he muttered, “…but no cigar.” 

“So, what do you like to eat on Thanksgiving then? Spaghetti, or pizza, or lasagna or something?”

Conrad grimaced as thoughts of garlic, and other unpleasant spices, threatened to sour his stomach. “I don’t really care for any of those.”

Cocking her head to the side, she frowned thoughtfully. “You know what’s funny? Now that I think about it, I never see you eat anything. Why is that?”

From across the room, Armand choked back a laugh. “C’est parce que vos yeux sont fermés, chérie,” he answered. That’s because your eyes are shut. 

“That’s enough out of you,” Conrad growled, throwing a pillow at his head. 

“What did he say?” the girl asked, her gaze shifting back and forth between them both.

Conrad shrugged. “He said it’s because I’m always on a diet.”

“What?” Her eyebrows rose. “You? But, you don’t need to diet, you’re perfect!”

Conrad pulled her close again and kissed her, flashing a smug smile over her shoulder at Armand. “Thank you, chérie. So are you.”

An avaricious little thrill pulsed through him as she clung to him, sighing happily against his mouth. Mine. He tightened his arms around her. One kiss was not enough. The taste of her mouth was an easy match for the taste of her blood—he was addicted to both and unable to get enough of either. Angling his head to the side, he plundered her mouth, loving the way her hands crept shyly up to frame his face, the eagerness with which she snuggled against him. Soon he was rolling her beneath him on the couch and stretching himself out on top of her, wanting, needing more. 

In the long run, his dual obsession with both her body and her blood was a very bad thing. One that would surely lead to trouble when he lost control of either his temper or his jealousy, as had happened with the last person he’d craved in this fashion. In the short run, however, it was perfect. As he tangled his legs with hers, he allowed himself a single depraved fantasy of what it would be like if he could have them both together in his bed. Both of his dark-eyed beauties, gazing at him adoringly…

It would be…nice. Very nice. But it was never going to happen, if only because, for safety’s sake, he’d have to turn her first. And that was such a very bad idea he wasn’t even tempted by it. Much.

“So, what holidays do you celebrate?” she asked, pressing her hands into his chest in an attempt to push him away. 

She’s pushing me away? He glanced down at her, surprised by her unexpected resistance. Is there a problem here?The furtive glance she cast in Armand’s direction, however, made the source of her discomfort clear.

Conrad sighed. He rolled to the side, giving her the space she so clearly desired. He’d been forgetting how very young she was. Young enough to still be self-conscious about being observed at play. Far too young for the fantasies he’d been imagining. Far too young for him. Yet another reason things would never work out between them. “I’m sorry. What were we talking about?”

“Holidays. There’s gotta be some you celebrate, right?”

“No, not really.” 

She looked surprised. “Not even Christmas?” 

“Not even Christmas.”

“That’s a shame.” She nodded at the big bay window, heavily swathed in velvet curtains to keep out the sun. “Because, you know, that would be a perfect place to put a tree.”

“A tree?” The grounds were full of trees—which was exactly where they belonged. “Why would I want a tree in the house?” It would have to be a very hardy specimen, something that could flourish in the dark.

“A Christmas tree, silly. You know, all done up with tinsel and pretty lights? If I had a house like this, I’d sure have one.”

He smiled at her. “So, you want a tree now? Is that what you’re saying?”

The girl sighed wistfully. “Well, who wouldn’t? But I don’t have any room at my place. I mean, I don’t really even have a place—not of my own. So, you know, there’s not much point in thinking about it, is there?”

“No, I meant here. Would you like me to get a tree for you to decorate?”

The look in her eyes gave him his answer. “Really?”

Conrad raised his head. “Armand!”

“Oui!”

“We need a tree!”

“Eh?” Armand glanced up, confused. “Comment? A…tree?”

“Yes, a tree, you heathen. For Christmas. Get one for us, will you, mon cher?”

Raising one eyebrow, Armand stared at him. “Ah, oui. Très bien. And would you be wanting the little colored lights, too?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “You could wrap them all around the house, perhaps—up on the roof and around all the doors and windows?” 

Conrad looked at the girl. She nodded eagerly. He smiled. “Oui.” 

Want to read more about Armand? His origin story will be the focus of Dancing in the Dark: 

Sometimes living forever is not all it's cracked up to be. 

1956 Winnipeg, Canada. Once Armand Renaud realizes that eternal youth is a real possibility, nothing will deter him from achieving his goal. And after one hundred years of solitude, Conrad can’t bring himself to resist the handsome young dancer who’s hellbent on being turned. 

They both know they’re not destined to be the great loves of each other’s lives, but there are worse ways to pass a long and lonely decade or two than in the arms of a passionate stranger. 

Living forever might not be everything they’d hoped for. But, at least they can still get a few things right. Can't they?

​

Scheduled for release September 19, 2023 as part of the  Rejected by the Immortal anthology.

PREORDER IT NOW:  https://books2read.com/rejectedimmortal

And why not spend this Christmas with a vampire...or two?

Her love will light up his night. If they can both survive that long. 

Heather is having the worst Christmas ever! Or, at least, the worst Christmas since she was forced to become a vampire. Her sire's distracted, her nestmates have forgotten her, weirdos have taken over the lair. The only bright spot in her life right now is Drew--who didn't even used to like her! She knows he's fond of her now, but that's not good enough. She wants more. She wants everything. She wants him. And she's not giving up. 

Drew Geiger gave up on love a long time ago. Such tender emotions have no place in a vampire's heart. But, somehow, the girl he once described as a "feral kitten" has got her claws in him, and she's not letting go. That would be fine, if only someone didn't want her dead--and if her sire didn't recall that it was Drew who once suggested that maybe she'd be better off that way.

 

Releasing December 13, 2022 

Available for preorder now: https://books2read.com/u/m0En1l

Bring It Back(list) ~ Ashes of the Day by PG Forte

 

       

Kiss is featuring Ashes of the Day on their LGBT History Month Seasonal Shelf from now until the 9th. You can check it out HERE

I think one of the reasons for its inclusion was a scene that really gutted me to write. But I'm not going to post that here--it's too stark without context. Instead, I'm going with the book's opening scene, which is also historical. 

December 31, 1999

New Year’s Eve

Damian leaned against the railing of the second-floor balcony and cast a jaded eye over the crowded ballroom below. The decorations were a tad overdone, in his opinion. Gaudy gold-and-silver Mylar festooned every surface—the bar, the tables, even the walls. The glare all but blinded him. Overhead, a billowing mass of champagne- and platinum-colored balloons were tethered to the ceiling, awaiting the stroke of midnight, when they’d be released. The last day of the year had dwindled down to the final hour. Y2K was on the verge, that ticking time bomb that would shortly send the world hurtling back toward the dark ages…or not.

Either way, Damian could not find it in himself to be concerned, or even very interested, in the fate of the world. The new millennium, as most people counted it, was about to begin. For the time being, it was still 1999 and the throng of people gathered on the hotel dance floor was certainly partying like it.

Exhibiting far more enthusiasm than skill, the crowd sang loudly along with Prince’s signature anthem as they bounced and gyrated to the music. The once-familiar song struck a bittersweet chord in Damian’s heart and he closed his eyes as nostalgia overwhelmed him. How many times had he danced to this same record back when it was first popular? He didn’t feel even remotely like dancing tonight. Hadn’t felt like dancing in years.

Memories rose in his mind of a supple young body pressed tight against his own, warming his back, more often than not. He remembered arms holding him possessively close, sweet lips dropping kisses all along his cheek, his neck, his shoulder…

He remembered the feel of strong hands splayed on his hips, guiding him as they moved together, thrusting, grinding, taunting each other with graphic reminders of everything they’d be doing together later in bed.

Oh, how he longed to feel that way again, careless and wanton, desired, loved. Oh, how he longed to hear that sexy voice whispering in his ear.To feel those muscular arms encircling his waist or his neck, or wrapped around his shoulders.To see that smile, hear that laugh, just one more time.

Knowing those wishes would never come true, that those days of joy and innocence were lost to him, gone for good, never to return, did nothing to improve his mood.

Folding his arms across his chest, he surreptitiously touched the small gold rings with which his nipples had been pierced. The rings had been Paul’s originally, a final gift of sorts. Since he was Vampire, the pain had been mild and fleeting. The tiny wounds had healed almost instantly and had done nothing to ease the heavy sense of loss that weighed against his chest. Perhaps if the physical pain had been more intense, more prolonged, more on par with his emotional pain, it might have helped distract him from his inner turmoil. As it was, all he’d had to make do with was Conrad’s anger. While that was certainly painful to endure, it didn’t so much detract from Damian’s distress as add to it.

 

“Slaves were once made to wear such things,” Conrad had complained when he learned what Damian had done. “Is that your wish?To be thought of as a slave now? Is that how you want people to think of you? Is it how you want them to think of me?”

“¡Ay, puñeta!” Damian had snarled, baring his teeth and shocking himself with his own boldness. “Déjate de leches. Tell me, who are these people about whom you’re so concerned? And what has any of it to do with you? Are the rings yours? Did you force me to wear them? No! So why should you have a say in this at all? Why do you even care what I do?” It was not his usual habit to disregard his sire’s wishes so recklessly or to respond so rudely to his complaints. No one spoke to Conrad in that fashion. No one without a pronounced deathwish, that is.

Is that what it’s come to?Damian wondered. Am I so weary of drawing breath I’m looking to end it all?Perhaps he was.

“Silence,” Conrad commanded. “You go too far. Have you forgotten who I am that you dare speak to me in this manner? Are you trying to make me lose my temper?”

Damian looked away. For all that a shudder ran through him when he contemplated the likely result of Conrad’s losing his temper, he still couldn’t honestly say no, that wasn’t exactly what he was trying to do. He needed something, didn’t he? Needed something drastic and extreme, something strong enough to pull him out of the abyss of grief he’d fallen into. Anything was preferable to what he was feeling now.

“Everything you do concerns me,” Conrad said after a moment, his voice lower but no less intense. “Don’t ever think otherwise. You’re a part of me, Damian, a part of my family, blood of my blood. Nothing will ever change that. And I will always have a say. Always.”

And that, Damian thought, was precisely where the problem lay. It was obvious that what Conrad objected to most of all was the idea of someone else’s “mark” being made visible on Damian’s body—a body Conrad still thought of as belonging to him, however little he wanted anything to do with it anymore.

Yes, the small bits of metal would last for centuries—another of Conrad’s complaints, and far more valid than the rest, in that at least it was true. They were as permanent a reminder of Paul as any Damian could think of, something he would carry with him wherever he went, something he could keep symbolically close to his heart for potentially the rest of his life. But what right had Conrad to rage about that either? None at all. Not when he himself had two living, breathing vampire children to remind him of his last lover. As a bequest, they had no equal. As a memorial, nothing else could come close. Of that Damian had no doubts whatsoever. They were his one saving grace, the only things that made his life worth living…

 

“A penny for your thoughts,” Conrad said, appearing at Damian’s elbow with two glasses of champagne in hand.

Damian started. As his mind returned to the present, the first thing that struck him was that the same song was playing—whether again or still he didn’t know. Memories washed over him once more and his heart twisted in grief. How was it the years could flash by, while the minutes lagged? Time was cruel, fickle, wearisome. How much more could he bear before it broke him?

“What’s wrong? Is one penny not enough? Perhaps you’re holding out for more?”

“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped. “More what?”

Conrad frowned. “Why must you scowl at me in that fashion? I did not invent the phrase and I’m quite sure I used it correctly. If you think I meant to imply your thoughts were not worth very much, I assure you you’re mistaken. I merely intended to inquire what was on your mind.”

Damian sighed. “Of course. I beg your pardon. Your use of the vernacular is exemplary. But I have nothing whatsoever on my mind—not even a penny’s worth.” He waved at the dance floor. “I was merely observing the crowd.”

“Ah.” A pleased smile curved Conrad’s lips. “Getting hungry, are we? Good. I’m pleased to hear your appetite’s returning.”

“No, I’m not particularly hungry.” There was only one taste Damian was craving, and as he had virtually no chance of satisfying that craving… “It all seems somewhat pointless, I’m afraid.”

Conrad’s smile disappeared. “Here,” he said, handing Damian one of the glasses. “Take this, at least. You look as though you could use something.”

“Thank you.” Damian took the glass and looked at it with distaste. Here was something else he’d felt no inclination for in well over a decade. “But I’m not, as they say, in the mood for it.”

“Hold onto it just the same,” Conrad said when Damian attempted to give him back the glass. “You’d do well to keep up appearances.” He studied him for a moment then asked, “Damian…you would tell me if there was anything you needed, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” Damian replied dutifully, lying again because what was the point of anything else? The truth wouldn’t do either of them a damn bit of good. 

Find more of the series  here: 

https://read.writekiss.com/search?key_word=PG%20Forte

Or on my website: https://www.pgforte.com/children-of-night

Family Ties

 Today's my daughter's birthday, so of course I'm posting a throwback excerpt from In the Dark, the story she pretty much dared me to write after listening to me bitch about everything I didn't  like about the vampire books I'd been judging for a contest. She was a big vampire fan, at the time, and I was...not so much. Now, of course, they're pretty much my favorite thing to write. Other than dragons. I think dragons will be fun. 

Anyway, I think my daughter has read more of my books than anyone else in my family (and all of my non-writing friends)  combined. And I don't know what I would do without her--although, obviously, not just for that!  

In the Dark
Children of Night 1.0

When you live forever, a few mistakes are bound to happen.

Vampire Conrad Quintano has been around for centuries -- long enough to know falling for a human is a terrible idea. Much less falling for adventure-seeking hippie Desert Rose and agreeing to raise her babies.

Raised in virtual isolation, Marc and Julie Fischer have never known their unique status in the world. But once they're in San Francisco, the family reunion is nothing like they anticipated and they're thrust into a world they're completely unprepared for.

BUY LINKS: https://books2read.com/u/mlL2eB

The following scene takes place shortly after Marc and Julie arrive in San Francisco and find Conrad missing...

“This whole scene is seriously screwed up. [Marc said] It makes me want to punch something. I hate all this stupid vampire drama.” He paused, running his hands through his hair, trying to shake the moodiness threatening to overtake him again. “It just never stops, does it?”

Julie rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. Why would it stop, Marc? We’re vampires. Always were, always gonna be. I can’t believe you’re still trying to dream up idiotic reasons not to admit that. We’re different, so what? Learn to deal with it, already. Or, you know what? Don’t. If it honestly makes you feel that much better to pretend we’re really space aliens instead, then go for it, Star-man, live long and prosper.”

Marc flushed. Not fair. He’d never pretended they were something they weren’t. He’d merely theorized on the various possibilities. And it had been years since he’d floated the idea they might have evolved from some kind of alien life form. Decades maybe. Even though anybody with brains would have to agree that a dip in the extraterrestrial gene pool was a good, solid, reasonable explanation for the way they’d all turned out. It was scientific, logical and so much better than the traditional theory—that they’d originated from demon spawn.

Aliens, by virtue of the fact they’d had to travel through space to get here, were obviously smart, technologically advanced and, in all likelihood, peaceful ambassadors from a better, brighter world. Vampires, on the other hand, were murderers. They were monsters. They were the quintessential fairy-tale villains—right up there with ogres and trolls and gorgons—the kind of creature nightmares were made of.

Who in the hell would choose to be something like that if they didn’t have to?

“You know what I think?” He grabbed one of Julie’s paperbacks from the stack by the window seat and waved it in her face. “I think you just like the idea of being a vampire ’cause you think it’s sexy. I mean, look at this crap you read.” He opened the book at random and read aloud. “…satisfaction gleamed in the prince’s dark eyes as he drew back and looked her over, still licking the last traces of blood from his lips. My blood, Celeste thought, her breasts rising and falling more quickly with the realization. It was her blood, her life force from which he’d been feeding and her body ached with the need to give him more.”

“Give it back!” Julie reached out to snatch the book from his hand.

Marc smirked. “Is that really how feeding makes you feel? Do your eyes gleam with satisfaction when you do it? Maybe, next time you eat, you could take out your mirror and check to see. Oh, but, wait a minute—” He smacked himself in the head. “Since you’re a vampire, I guess you must be invisible in mirrors too, huh?”

“Funny.” Julie gazed at him resentfully. “You know what, Marc? It’s called fiction. And, for your information, if it’s got a good story and three-dimensional characters, nobody cares if some of the facts are a little sketchy.”

Bring It Back(List) Old Sins, Long Shadows by PG Forte

 I had a new story release yesterday. Light Up the Night is my contribution to the Shadows and Chaos story collection. This is a Children of Night story and it features my vampires Heather and Drew. 

Sure things are heating up for them NOW, but it wasn't always that way! Here's our first look at the pair, way back in book two of the series, Old Sins, Long Shadows: 

Living forever is hard. Loving forever? Impossible. 

 Of all the mistakes Conrad Quintano has made, driving Damian away is the one that haunts him the most. He hates the fact that he's hurt the man he loves more than anything. 

For the sake of the twins, though, Conrad and Damian parent as a united front, a challenge that grows more and more difficult with each passing year. And with Conrad in his weakened state after his kidnapping, it grows more difficult than ever to be around the one man he can't have. 

 But an old enemy's mission to create a dangerous new breed of vampire threatens the twins' lives, and it's now more important than ever that the estranged lovers put the past behind them, or everything they hold dear might be ripped apart.

Excerpt:

Danny leaned across the bar. Motioning with his head toward the front of the club he said, “Mr. Geiger? That crazy girl’s back.” 

“What?” Drew shot a startled glance in the direction Danny had indicated. His expression darkened. “Son of a bitch, I thought we’d seen the last of her.” Growling in annoyance, he downed his stout and set the glass on the bar with a thump. “Right. I’ll just go kick her ass to the curb. Again.” 

“Why? What’d she do?” Marc studied the slight blonde standing just inside the door. She looked young, still in her teens most likely. Not that appearances were anything to go by when it came to vampires of course, but there was a hungry, desperate, confused look on her face as she scanned the crowd that marked her as a probable newbie. Marc knew a moment of empathy. “Who is she?” 

Drew shook his head. “She’s no one. Just some feral kitten who keeps coming around scaring the crap out of people.” 

“She scares people? Are you serious?” 

“Look at her, man.” Danny’s voice held more than a hint of panic. “She’s outta control! She nearly ripped some poor guy’s head off the first time she came in here, before anyone knew what she was. She still looks like she could kill someone.” 

 “Yes, well, she probably has.” Drew shot Danny a pitying glance. “Relax. We talked about this last time, didn’t we? She’s not going to be doing it here. Now get back to work. I’ll take care of things, just like always. Got that?”

 Danny nodded. “Yes, sir,” he murmured, his tone subdued. 

 As Drew headed for the door, Marc fell into step beside him. “A feral kitten? What the hell, bro? That’s way cold.” 

“Is it? The girl’s a nuisance. You saw how Danny was affected, didn’t you? He’s not the only one feels that way.” 

“Yeah, but what’s it even mean?” 

Drew shook his head. “It means she’s fresh-out-of-the-box new—all teeth and claws and no skills whatsoever. She has no family, no nest, no house. Nobody has any idea who made her or, if they do, they’re not admitting to it. I’m actually surprised she’s still hanging around. She must have had the gods’ own luck to survive for as long as she has out on the street on her own. Still, it’s only a matter of time before her luck runs out and she’s put down. Sooner the better, I say.” 

“Put down? You mean killed?” Startled, Marc put a hand on his friend’s arm to stop him. “Drew, she’s just a kid.” 

Drew turned to him, his glance skeptical. “Not too likely, is it? If she’s enough of an adult to survive being turned, she’s old enough to suffer the consequences of her actions.” 

“Whatever. You’re still talking about murder.” 

 Drew glanced impatiently toward the door. “Look, Marc, I realize it may seem unpleasant from your perspective, but that’s the human in you talking. This is the way things work in our world and trust me, it’s for the best. Ferals are notoriously difficult to deal with. They’re answerable to no one, which makes them almost impossible to rehabilitate even in the best of circumstances. For one so young, someone who’s had no training at all, it’s fairly hopeless. Unless the girl wises up somehow, which I can’t really see happening, she’ll likely be dead within a matter of weeks. Certainly by year’s end at the very latest. With any luck, the end will be quick and relatively painless, but that’s really the most she can hope for. Now, would you please let me go? I have work to do.” 

“What is she doing that’s so wrong? So she scares people. Big deal. So do we.” 

Drew sighed. “It is a big deal actually, and it’s not at all the same thing. What we do is conscious and calculated, undertaken with a clear understanding of the risks involved. What she does is mindless and uncontrolled and it threatens us all. But, listen, this is not our concern. I’m not about to harm her, if that’s what’s worrying you. It’s not my place to do so and, besides, it’s not necessary. Sooner or later, she’ll cross paths with someone who’s powerful enough, or well-connected enough, that he won’t care who she belongs to, or whose toes he might be stepping on if he disposes of her—and that’ll be the end of it. Until then, I’m just going to keep tossing her out whenever she shows her face in here. But I am going to do that.” He glanced meaningfully at Marc’s hand, still fastened on his arm. “Now, if you don’t mind?”

In the shadows chaos reigns... ​

 Let your imagination take you away to fantastic places filled with wonder and whimsy. Delight in tales of witches, vampires, demons and other supernatural beings as they negotiate the realms of darkness and light.

Buy Links: https://books2read.com/shadowsandchaos

New! Light Up the Night by PG Forte

 I have a new story out today! Light Up the Night is my contribution to the Shadows and Chaos paranormal and fantasy collection. This is an all-new story in my Children of Night world.

Her love will light up his night. If they can both survive that long. 

Heather is having the worst Christmas ever! Or, at least, the worst Christmas since she was forced to become a vampire. Her sire's distracted, her nestmates have forgotten her, weirdos have taken over the lair. The only bright spot in her life right now is Drew--who didn't even used to like her! She knows he's coming around, but that's not good enough. She wants more. She wants everything. She wants him. And she's not giving up. 

 Drew Geiger gave up on love a long time ago. Such tender emotions have no place in a vampire's heart. But, somehow, the girl he once described as a "feral kitten" has got her claws in him, and she's not letting go. That would be fine, if only someone didn't want her dead--and if her sire didn't recall that it was Drew who once suggested that maybe she'd be better off that way.

Excerpt: 

The following evening, found Heather in Akeldama, once again, staring at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, and wishing that the old myth about vampires and mirrors could have been true. That way, she wouldn’t have to see how plain, and young, and ordinary she looked. Especially when she compared herself to Liz and Brook, who were gorgeous and glamorous. And unmistakably all grown up. 

 She’d really tried tonight, too; for all the good that had done. She’d taken pains with her appearance when she was getting ready earlier in the evening. She’d spent hours putting on makeup and experimenting with hairstyles, hoping she could hit on a combination that would make her look older. She’d wanted to look nice for Drew, even though he’d ghosted on her the night before. No—that was not true. She wasn’t doing it in spite of the fact he’d left without saying good-bye. She was doing it because of that. She’d wanted to make him sorry for what he’d done. She wanted him to see what he was missing. Although it appeared he was happy to go right on missing it because he’d barely said two words to her all night! 

He was spending all his time at the other end of the bar—about as far away from her as he could get. To be fair, Jason and Aiken had also gravitated in that direction, so maybe it was a guy thing? But even though she’d caught Drew watching her a couple of times, out of the side of his eye, he made no effort to move closer. And that just hurt. What had she done wrong? They’d had a nice time last night, hadn’t they? Why was he suddenly avoiding her? 

 She wasn’t just imagining it, either. She knew this to be true because Drew’s defection had left Danny, one of the few humans who worked for him, to cover this side of the room all by himself. And that was something Drew had always made a particular point of not doing. The very first time she’d come in here, back in her wilder days, she’d scared the piss out of Danny. He’d never really recovered. He still was palpably nervous whenever she was around. And Drew knew that! So what the fuck? 

 She blew out a frustrated sigh. She was hungry and annoyed and should probably go check out the dance floor and find someone to eat—just to take the edge off. Except that Liz had just excused herself to do the same, and it didn’t seem polite to leave Brook here all alone. At least shopping had been fun. 

It turned out that Brook was only a little older than she was. And Liz, who’d apparently spent most of her life locked up like Rapunzel, lacked that been-there-done-that, jaded attitude that made most vampires so annoying to hang out with. Heather had enjoyed spending time with the two of them—even if they did talk way too much about their boyfriends. And even though they’d teased her about Marc, which was simply irritating. 

 They acted like she must be hung up on him, just because she was buying him a present. Didn’t either of them buy presents for their sires? Well, Brook wouldn’t, of course. Being “something else” probably meant she didn’t have one. And Liz’s sire was Marc now. So, obviously, no, they didn’t. 

Not that Heather really cared. Giving gifts to the people you were close to was as good a way to show them how you felt as any other. And she and Marc were close—in fact, she loved him a lot—just not in the way they thought. The two of them were family. Marc was the closest thing Heather had to a father now. So, no—eww—she did not view him as boyfriend material! Not to mention that he already had a sort-of girlfriend. 

 To be honest, Heather wasn’t quite sure how she felt about Elise yet, but she liked her well enough that she wouldn’t have felt right about creeping on her boyfriend behind her back, even if he hadn’t been Marc. Besides, how pathetic would that be—falling for someone who was already taken? Although, it was probably less pathetic than falling for someone who didn’t even care enough about you to come over and ask if you were enjoying your drink—looking at you, Drew! Which, for the record, she was not. 

She took another sip, just to check. But, nope, she still didn’t like…whatever this was. What it was not was the egg cream she’d ordered, that was for damn sure. And she was stuck with it, too, since she couldn’t ask cry-baby Danny to re-make it. She was feeling too snarly; and he’d likely pass out on the floor if she so much as scowled in his direction. 

 Beside her, Brook’s phone rang—for the eleventy-thousandth time. Heather watched as her friend snatched it up and put it to her ear. “Hello? Hello? Who is this? What? Speak up; I can’t hear you.” 

 “That thing still giving you trouble?” Heather asked sympathetically as a frustrated Brook slammed the gadget down on the bar and growled at it. Brook’s phone had been acting up all night. It would ring, but then immediately disconnect as soon as she tried to answer. She couldn’t call back, to see who it was, because the number was listed as private. And she didn’t want to block it, because she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t someone from home trying to reach her. 

 She and Liz had even joked that Aiken must have put a spell on it to keep Brook’s family from finding her. Or, at least, Heather thought they were joking. But then Brook borrowed Liz’s phone so she could call Aiken to ask if he knew anything about what was going on. So, maybe they’d meant it after all?

In the shadows chaos reigns... ​

 Let your imagination take you away to fantastic places filled with wonder and whimsy. Delight in tales of witches, vampires, demons and other supernatural beings as they negotiate the realms of darkness and light.

Buy Links: https://books2read.com/shadowsandchaos

Music To Write Angst To

Way, way back, when I first started writing for publication, having the right music to listen to while I wrote was an absolute necessity--right up there with scented candles, an inspirational coffee mug, and the beverage of my choice--which tended to change on a scene-to-scene basis.  I  gradually grew out of my need for most of these (I still like the mugs, although I have let a lot of those go in this last move) but  then I began beg having trouble writing AT ALL, so I've been experimenting with bringing some of them back.

This year I've found myself listening to music once again, and that's been exciting because I've not only discovered some great new (or new to me) songs, but I've also been inspired to write more stories based on song titles (some old, some new) and/or lyrics. Like this one, for example:

 And, no, you won't be seeing him THIS Christmas, but I'm gonna try like hell to get him out there NEXT Christmas even though I already have TWO OTHER vampire Christmas stories scheduled to release next December because he's just too cute to keep to myself. 

But right now my playlists are filled with sad, alternative Christmas music, breakup songs, multiple versions of I'll Be Home for Christmas and at least a dozen different covers of Joni Mitchell's song River. I thought I'd share a few of my favorites:

Maybe in Another Lifetime

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7p4XcH1o8bvWweWGrPabmn?si=ee359609608148e6

Sorted Noise Christmas

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5zR15VSpMUiOUZR7SY9dZj?si=81771a07f30d4b20

River Covers

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2YssyZFYEjs3AHu5dV3jTT?si=b0d7d1eec7c14a35

New York City Christmas Benefit 

https://open.spotify.com/album/2h3KsArV2WCgXpyBdZQmZh?si=NiB35qh-TM6WACN5_i18OQ

Folk and Indie Christmas 2021 (AKA I Hate Christmas)

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/62ugl92OM7e4BbV1l3cghf?si=03daa868a11142f2

Bring It Back(list) ~ Old Sins, Long Shadows by PG Forte

 

OLD SINS, LONG SHADOWS
Children of Night, Book 2
by PG Forte
PNR, vampires, Halloween

Buy Links: https://entangledpublishing.com/books/old-sins-long-shadows

Living forever is hard. Loving forever? Impossible. 

 Of all the mistakes Conrad Quintano has made, driving Damian away is the one that haunts him the most. He hates the fact that he's hurt the man he loves more than anything. For the sake of the twins, though, Conrad and Damian parent as a united front, a challenge that grows more and more difficult with each passing year. And with Conrad in his weakened state after his kidnapping, it grows more difficult than ever to be around the one man he can't have. 

 But an old enemy's mission to create a dangerous new breed of vampire threatens the twins' lives, and it's now more important than ever that the estranged lovers put the past behind them, or everything they hold dear might be ripped apart.

Here's a Halloween Party excerpt from Old Sins, Long Shadows. I  love the idea of vampires throwing a costume party on Halloween--so much that I put one in the first Children of Night book (In the Dark) as well. 

In fact, now that I think about it, Going Back to Find You features vampires with plans to crash a Halloween party as well. And, who knows? I haven't wrapped the series up yet, there may be more. 

EXCERPT:

As the guest of honor and the son of the house it seemed everyone present was eager to make [Marc's] acquaintance or get to know him better. He was not averse to either. Especially not while faint traces of the unusual power he’d tasted the previous evening still lingered in his system. He was hungry for more and anxious to meet anyone who might help him touch it again—like the woman approaching him now, for example. 

She seemed a likely prospect. Tall and fair, strikingly good-looking, she carried an aura of power that was palpable even from halfway across the room. The crush of people seemed to part before her purely on instinct, opening a path that led her directly to the dais. Directly to Marc. 

He smiled in greeting. “Good evening. Welcome to my party.” 

“Your party?” One elegant brow arced higher, two perfectly painted lips pursed into a petulant little moue. “Is it really? Well now, that is a surprise. Is Conrad no longer in residence?” 

“Oh, no, he’s here.” Marc scanned the room without finding him. “Although I’m not sure where he’s gone to, at the moment. I only meant that I’m the one he’s throwing the party for. Me and my sister, that is. I’m Marc, by the way.” He held out his hand. 

Lavender-blue eyes studied him curiously. “Georgia,” the woman replied, giving him her hand after a brief pause. “So, tell me, Marc, what is it you and your sister have done to merit being honored with so elaborate a fête? And on Halloween, of all days. I really can’t imagine what’s come over Conrad, all of a sudden. Why, I recall when the mere suggestion of such a thing would have been enough to enrage him.”

 “Really?” Marc grinned. “We didn’t do anything special. I think it was Damian’s idea. It’s just that today’s our birthday, you see.” 

“Your…birthday?” Georgia stared at him, lips curling into an expression of faint distaste. “Oh, surely not? You can’t mean to tell me someone had the incredibly bad taste to turn you actually on Halloween? Who was it? Not Conrad, I know. I can hardly believe even Damian would be capable of anything so tacky.” 

“Tacky?” Marc looked at her in surprise. 

“Well, clichéd, then. At the very least. I mean to say, vampires? Halloween?” 

Marc shrugged. “I guess I never thought of it that way before. But, that’s still not what I meant. Today’s our actual birthday—the day we were born.” 

“Your actual birthday,” Georgia repeated, the look of distaste growing stronger. “I see. Well, that does make a difference, doesn’t it? And you’ve chosen to celebrate that, have you? My, how very…very…quaint.”

And for more great books that you might have missed the first time around, check out author Allie Ritch's Reunion post, highlighting books from three publishers that, sadly, are no more. Liquid Silver Books, Loose Id, and Samhain. https://allieritch.wordpress.com/2021/10/27/book-reunion/