Guest Blogger: Linda Nightingale

The winner of Linda's book is: Razlover's Book Blog! Congratulations! Send me your contact information and I'll pass it along to Linda. Thanks to everyone who participated.

Linda Nightingale is joined today by Tristan McLaghlin and Lord Morgan D'Arcy, both musicians and both vampires.

Linda: What does it feel like to be a vampire?

Morgan: Linda, if one more person asks me that question, I shall bite them, quite literally. Why not ask what it feels like to be a concert pianist?
Linda: Morgan, put a cork in it.

Tristan: Shall we call you Mum as your pen gave us entry into this life?

Linda: Perhaps, then Tristan, you would like to answer.

Tristan: At the certainty of sounding condescending, what it feels like to be a vampire is beyond mortal comprehension. You've heard it all, heightened senses, physical and metaphysical abilities and, of course, sensuality.

Linda: I think that being a vampire would be—

Morgan: Everything that you have led these people to believe. And more.

Linda: I did give you the ability to read thoughts but I don't appreciate it when they are mine.

Whisper of movement and Tristan has taken her hand.

Tristan: You were broadcasting loud enough for any of us to hear your thoughts. There are ways to block the transmission. I could teach you.

Linda: Both of you had better mind your manners. I have an eraser in my hand.

Both men sit back, eyes unfocused, listening not to their creator but to the sound of footsteps in the hall. An attractive woman, long dark hair swinging at her waist, enters the room. She gives Morgan a smile, winks at Linda and sits beside Tristan, linking her arm with his.

Carol: Go play your cello Tristan and your piano Morgan. Leave us girls alone for a few. Sorry, Mum, to rob you of the eye candy.

Linda: Carol, how long have you been a Black Swan?

Carol: For about a year now. I met Lucien and Morgan at a totally elegant party at an even more elegant estate just south of London.

Girls: now that the fellows are not underfoot, from the trailer, you'll see that Black Swans are rather special people and treated to intense, addictive pleasures. We willingly submit to the vampire in order to experience the sensual and sexual euphoria of the kiss. A girl can get spoiled to the best! Our story is available from The Wild Rose Press. Please join me in falling in both the L-words.

Linda: Shall be give a brief excerpt of Black Swan?

EXCERPT:

Most of the Swan Songs they’d attended were in London. Tonight, they’d driven south to a fabulous country estate of manicured lawns and gardens that once belonged to a famous actor. A uniformed valet parked Lisa's car. A servant in frock coat and hose motioned them toward the manor's broad stairs.

At just such a party, she’d met Tristan. Black Irish, black-haired, blue-eyed, he looked like a young Pierce Brosnan. He was gifted with a devilish sense of humor, an artist's passion and zeal. They’d been an item—and true blue—for nearly a year before vampire wanderlust set in. Six months ago, he’d run away to America. If he’d asked her to go with him, she’d be listening to a rainy night in Seattle instead of England.

Carol had a gold medal in loving and losing.

BT—before Tristan—she’d never gotten the one she wanted. BT she'd never truly been in love. At least, he’d been a gorgeous improvement on her previous track record. Everyone dealt with heartbreak in a different way. Carol had tried to outrun it but a six-week parade of good-looking immortal lovers hadn’t filled the emptiness he’d left in her heart. Damn and double damn, she’d promised not to think of him tonight! She was here to have fun and perhaps other f-words.

Blonde Lisa, in blue sequins, leaned near to whisper, “Heads up, Carol.”

Carol looked up, halted, gripping the rail. She’d never seen the godlike creature standing regally at the top of the stairs, one long, elegant hand resting on the head of a stone lion. He radiated power—and arrogance. Black and soft as the country night, straight, thick hair washed over his shoulders. He was so intense, so handsome that the people greeting him faded to ghosts. Lisa captured her hand to pull her along. When they mounted the step beside him, black eyes captured Carol's and, in one fluttering heartbeat, the stranger had taken the measure of her soul. He didn’t smile or hold her gaze long enough to mesmerize, yet Carol felt wobbly on her feet—and enthralled. For a moment, she actually forgot Tristan.

Guests spilled from the ballroom into the marble-paved Great Hall. Lisa snagged Paul, a pretty dandy from the West End scene, by his tuxedoed arm.

“Who is Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome and Arrogant?”

Paul spoke with the aristocracy’s natural lisp. “Lucien St. Albans, Chief Councilor of Les Elus, lovingly called the Dark Prince. He’s probably here to make sure no one breaks the rules.”

As they navigated the glittering crowd, Paul explained that Les Elus governed the Vampyre. “The Prime Directive, of course, is never to endanger the life of a Black Swan.”

www.lindanightingale.com

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Linda will be giving away a copy of Black Swan to one commenter. Her winner will be selected and posted on Tuesday evening. Stop back by to see if you won.