A kiss of darkness.
A kiss of death.
The woods have always been full of whispers in Transylvania, of terrors that go back centuries to the legendary Vlad Dracul himself. Ignoring their professor ' s grave warning ' beware those who would prey upon the innocent ' several visiting students travel into the forest ' and disappear. Now their professor, Bryan McAllister, believes that a dark cult is at work ' and that their next gathering will happen in America.
When psychologist Jessica Fraser is approached by Bryan for her assistance, she is hesitant. Something about Bryan unnerves Jessica deeply, yet she cannot ignore the incredible pull she feels toward him. Now, as reluctant allies, they unite to seek the truth. The search takes them from the forested mountains to dimly lit clubs in New Orleans ' French Quarter, where perversion goes beyond sexual to life ' threatening.
And everywhere, whispering on the wind, is the dreaded word ' vampyr.
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August 31, 2006
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Excerpt from Kiss of Darkness by Heather Graham
Jessica Fraser listened to the music, the cool jazz tones. She had closed her eyes, and despite the voices, the scraping of chairs and clinking of glasses, she could filter everything else out and hear the music. She wished she could just give way to it, forget the night, forget work and her upcoming flight ' even the very good friends surrounding her. From the moment she had first come to New Orleans, years ago now, she had been in love not just with the city's sense of history and pulsing life, but with the sounds, especially the music. Tonight, for a few minutes, closing her eyes, she was alone. All she could feel was the music, as if it had entered her body and soul, and soothed her.
Of course, few people actually considered Bourbon Street to be soothing.
Yet even as she listened to the music, savoring the feeling of calm, a sense that all was not well startled her. She opened her eyes and looked around, plagued by a sudden and yet very disturbing feeling that she was being watched.
"Hey, did you hear me " Maggie Canady asked, nudging Jessica.
"I'm sorry. What "
"What you need to design," Maggie said, "is a bathing suit for people with a little more body than they want to show."
"Oh, Maggie, just get one of those tankini things," put in Stacey LeCroix, who helped Jessica with both her B and B and the designing she did, both sidelines, since Jessica's real livelihood came as a practicing psychologist. Stacey was young, cute and thin as a reed.
Maggie sighed. "Honey, a tankini doesn't do a thing in the world for too much rear and thunder thighs."
Jessica couldn't help but laugh as she looked across the table at Sean Canady, Maggie's husband, a tall, well-built man who combined a look of complete authority with a handsome, strikingly rugged face, an asset in his job as a cop. "Please tell your wife she doesn't have thunder thighs."
Sean pushed back a thatch of thick blond hair and looked at his wife. "Maggie, you don't have thunder thighs."