To Kill A Warlock, An Urban Fantasy Romance

Chapter Thirteen

Two hours later, Trey was passed out on the couch, and Knight was trying to find something on TV. He surfed the channels, stopping periodically to watch something seemingly intriguing, only to change the station yet again. I'd been working on the intro to my new Bram book, and the background noise was becoming an issue. With a sigh, I focused on my first page and read the opening paragraph again:

Raven was a vampire, and like most vampires, he was tall, dark and handsome with curly locks and caramel eyes. But he was one man you didn't want to rub the wrong way. With his superhuman strength and bewitching eyes, his wish was my command. And now, as I realized the vampire was about to sink his fangs into my carotid artery, deep inside, I was scared.

Okay, so I was using myself as the narrator and yes, the love interest—so what? It wasn't like I had the hots for Bram.

I didn't realize I'd been softly reading out loud until Knight glanced up. He scrutinized me like an old woman squinting at an eye chart. "What are you working on?" he called from the couch.

"Just a ... book, that's all," I grumbled, not pulling my eyes from the monitor.

"About what?"

Goddammit. I'd brought this on myself—working on it when he was here in the room with me. But even with privacy at a premium, I had to get my writing in somehow.

"I, uh, I'm working on a paranormal book."

He sat up and dropped the volume of the television to a gentle drone. "I didn't know you were a writer."

"I'm really not much of one," I said, shaking my head.

As I refocused on the page, I glimpsed Knight still watching me. Okay, so he found me more interesting than the TV—that was a compliment. I swiveled around in my chair, so I could face him, and thought maybe a break was just what I needed.

"Is this your first book?" he asked.

"No, I wrote another book and tried to get an agent but no one was interested."

"Sorry to hear that." He nodded toward the computer. "What's this one about?"

I blushed, not entirely sure why I was so embarrassed. A writer shouldn't be self-conscious about her own work, right? "It's a paranormal."

His brows drew together in what appeared to be confusion.

I sighed. "My first book was historical, but I was advised that historicals are out and paranormals are in."

"You still haven't said what it's about."

I dropped my gaze. "It's about a vampire."

Knight's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Was that the business you had with Bram, then?"

Well, if nothing else, he was astute. I bobbed my head, and Knight's eyes narrowed in what appeared to be resentment. "He hardly warrants a book," he said. "He's ... unimpressive."

"Well, that's your opinion."

Knight chuckled. "Why write about vampires? Why not something more ... unusual?"

"What, like a Loki?" I laughed as Knight shrugged. "One agent told me everyone likes vampire stories."

"Can't say I'm a fan, myself."

I picked up a pen and tapped the tip against my lips. "I can't say I am either."

We both fell silent as I debated whether or not to continue working on the book. It was already getting late and I'd lost my inspiration, what little I had anyway. Besides, I had all the time in the world to get it done.