Excerpt Day: VAMMP, Conquering Dissension by Bryl Tyne
Boys of the Bite edited by Cecilia Tan
Release Date: August 4, 2009
Publisher: Ravenous Romance
ISBN: 9781607771784
Publisher Link: http://www.ravenousromance.com/fantastica/boys-of-the-bite.php?flypage=0
Blurb: Vampires are ever young, ever beautiful, and ruled by the cravings of the flesh. In Boys of the Bite, the gay male side of the vampire's legend is explored in every erotic possibility. From historical settings where vampires move through high society to modern vamps you find at the all-night laundromat, these lusty men know how to hunt, whether for love or just a midnight snack. Mixing stories by gay male authors like R. R. Angell and Bob Panadero with some of Ravenous Romance's stars of m/m romance like Keta Diablo and Ryan Field, Boys of the Bite gives every reader plenty to get his or her blood pumping.
VAMMP, Conquering Dissension by Bryl Tyne: There's dissension amongst the ranks. Sergeant Alan Fortson's insubordination took him from the hands of the enemy, and placed him into the hands of his superior, Warrant Officer Darrel Pittman. Darrel's assigned to monitor Alan for thirty days and report his recommendation on the future of the U.S. Army's Special Forces VAMMP Project. Is Alan's dream coming to fruition? Or will his time with Darrel prove to be Alan's worst nightmare? From the time Darrel sank those teeth into Alan at his induction, Alan's been enamoured with the man. When the mere sound of Darrel's husky Midwestern drawl encourages Alan, and his cock, to full attention, Alan's unravelled to the point of longing for unconsciousness. As an Army-designed vampire assassin, a hybrid, Alan's self-control has reached incorrigibility, and spending a month at Darrel's Colorado estate will surely be Alan's undoing.
Excerpt:
Tension... Alan snorted. At first, he´d tried to ignore the undeniable craving. Though the harder
he tried, the more frequent-and with greater intensity-the visions of Darrel had become. Alan would never forget the man who perpetrated the induction. He couldn´t. So, he gave up trying. Throughout his grueling two-year training, he resorted to admiring Darrel from afar. Photos, news clippings, press releases, and announcements of awards and recognitions-like some lovesick molly, he´d collected all things Darrel. When Alan learned he´d been assigned to Darrel´s team, he was thrilled. But the more time they spent together, the more Alan struggled to curb his desires, his glimpses, his thoughts. He cringed. He especially needed to control his thoughts. Who wouldn´t, with a commanding officer who read minds?
Through the screen, he pretended the snow-white masses of fur wrestling on the front lawn
captivated him. He prayed Darrel hadn´t been listening.
"They´re intelligent creatures, Fortson. They sense you like me."
Great. Alan hesitated. Red-faced and sore, he forced an about face and for a moment, he thought he´d caught Darrel smile.
Maybe he was mistaken.
"You coming?" Darrel motioned for him to carry the duffels. "I meant like, as in friends, Fortson." Darrel burst into laughter and disappeared, leaving Alan to wonder if the man took pride in his humor or got a kick out of flaunting his sadistic tendencies.
Alan stepped into the house and into a different world. Above him, an open staircase in finished
oak passed overhead, angled to his left, and took two ninety-degree turns to welcome the living area.
Set deeper into the home and off to the right, dry wood crackled, trying its damnedest to spit embers
through the metal screen barring the escape of whipping blue and orange flames.
He dropped the heavy bags next to an overstuffed sofa with a grunt and straightened to take inthe country elegance. Earth-toned wallpaper and varnished pine Waynes Coating dressed each wall.
Modest furnishings, but judging from their size, he reasoned each piece hand built to accommodate the two hundred and forty pounds Darrel packed into his six-foot-seven-inch hard body.
Alan scanned the room, noticing the walls lacked clutter. Hell, the entire room did. No pictures,
art, or fanciful items brightened this decor. He landed on a mirror placed above the mantle and edged closer. His fascination with mirrors started after he´d been transformed, when he first realized glass no longer held his image. He examined the mirror´s endless depths, the room behind him, and catching a flash of color from a darkened hall, spun around.
Darrel´s hearty laughter filled the air as he and a woman in a multicolored skirt strolled into the
room. She fawned over Darrel and clung to his arm. Her withered hands pet, as she prattled a hundred words a minute. No doubt, in Alan´s mind, Darrel´s arrival had excited her.
Darrel introduced Rosalia the housekeeper, as he handed Alan a tall ceramic mug. "She´s been
with me for decades." With a smirk, he pointed. "Drink up, Fortson. We need to get you tucked in for a bit."
Metallic and sticky, the warmed and sweetened bovine blood flowed into his belly. He eyed
Rosalia over the mug´s rim, wondering if she were the type to lace his meal. Her gray hair was tucked up into a tidy bun atop her head. Her pupil-less gaze, blacker and colder than Darrel´s own, ran the course of Alan´s body. She briefly met his concerned stare then turned to Darrel.
"Es él lo uno?" she started.
"Enough." With a warning aimed at Rosalia, Darrel ripped the unfinished drink from Alan´s
grasp and thrust it into her palm. He shoved Alan toward the sofa. "I´ll show you to your room," and
snagged both duffels on the way.
"What did she mean? Am I one what?"