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The Crimson Fantasies
If you enjoy reading the urban paranormal genre, brace yourself before you slake your thirst for the unpredictable. Part blood bath and part bubble bath, my Crimson fantasies are rife with humour and horror, suspense and steamy bits. An attic of secrets and a forbidden house, a kidnapping and a pub crawl, not one but two prison escapes, all have one thing in common — a 927-year-old biter with a taste for the nubile.

The past, present and future now await you...



Sneak Peeks at Random
The following is an excerpt from page 17 of Vulgar Verse:
I like your tenderness and peculiarity

the way you touch me

with a sprinkle of patience

you explore me.

Between the lines of my emotion

and flesh, I bubble over with lust.

For your taste is the first morsel

to pass these lips.

And the water of your mouth

is the wine in the glass of my want.

And I regress to a time when I worried far less.

In your tenderness, I feel irresistible.
The following is an excerpt from page 30 of Friction:
This man's ardour

softly nudging behind swaying wild fire

internally bleeding and burning.

This bird of prey,

pulling at my meat

thorny and red.

My lips coming apart.

Both flesh and wet,

land eroding into rain,

into my age of breeding

coming quickly to me.

This man's prick is the sin I taste,

an epic fissure

this day we make.
The following is an excerpt from page 116 of The Crimson Dream:
The sincerity of his words had been received by Miss Birmingham as they had been intended by Sir William. He meant every word he spoke. That inner part of him that remained connected to his human self still had a human brain, and believed every lie he told to achieve what he had set out to do. But his vampire ruthlessness and seduction was truly the devil inside that ruled his nature.

Once Catherine stepped back into her room and moved aside in order that he could come in, he had already entered her in his mind; his hands had already unbuttoned her petticoat; his kisses were already traveling from the small of her back up to the nape of her neck. And her luxurious hair, that most wondrous place where the smells of each woman were held like flowers kept in a sealed box, would cover his face and caress his skin. Indeed, she would writhe on top of him, throwing her hands above his head to support her body. Her pert breasts would fall before him, offering themselves to his mouth like raw, uncut rubies to a skilled jeweller. She would then be helpless. She would take him deep into her, as much as her body would allow, and then disappear into him.

"I do believe chocolate is the work of Satan, would you not agree" asked Sir William mischievously. His cock throbbed. Stepping into her room, he shut the door behind himself. His clothes emanated the vampire aroma and Catherine almost swooned. When he opened the box to reveal the prized sweets of wrapped truffles, he watched her eyes flicker.

"I only wish for you to indulge in this extravagance. The shop owner assured me that he imports only the finest cocoa from abroad. I have already indulged in his offerings and they are nothing short of exquisite."

He saw the small hairs on her neck stand up. The bonnet he had seen earlier in the day was gone. Neither was her hair tightly coiled but rather, her ringlets had fallen out, splaying across her shoulders. Even the cleavage of her dress revealed her breasts like fresh rosebuds blooming and turning toward the kiss of the sun. He consumed her even before he had laid one finger on her body or before his lips had touched the moist texture of hers. To be able to watch her unwrap the chocolate and bring the delicacy to her lips was pure pleasure.
The following is an excerpt from page 109 of The Crimson Man:
Magdalene felt him between her legs, crossing them, trying to take her mind off the fact that her panties were soaking wet. This man seated beside her was almost too much, too much for her fantastic imagination. If only he knew what dirty deeds she had conjured up while he spoke.

He wore relaxed fitting pants and a black, crew neck shirt, with white buttons; the first two undone, opening up to his chest; black hairs speckled lightly across. His sandals were well worn and his toenails groomed.

She thought how funny it is that women notice the most unusual aspects of a man.

"I realize it's impolite to ask personal questions about someone I've only just met but they really are the best questions to ask after all," he remarked.

"OK now you've piqued my interest," she replied.

"You're not involved with anyone?"

"Alas I'm an unclaimed treasure," she answered.

He liked her light-hearted humour.
The following is an excerpt from page 4 of Mounting the Bedpost:
He didn't have to touch her

to know her thighs were as smooth

as the hour long.

He didn't have to feel her skin,

to know his grasp would slip

in his hands

holding her firmly

he needed only,

to stroke her hair once,

its length longer than his fingers

wanting the nape of her neck,

he knew her.
The following is an excerpt from page 113 of The Crimson Crimes:
He skated toward her swiftly, his feet and legs well acquainted with the rhythm of skating even though he had not worn a pair of skates in almost a year.

Magdalene's warm smile was a beacon of bright whiteness under the dark bridge and he had only to imagine how divine her lips would taste in the cold.

Samuel abruptly tilted his body to an angle and with both blades cut a sharp edge on the ice. He stopped inches from his wife. "Like stealing candy from a baby."

"My gorgeous boy," beamed Magdalene. "I heard the sirens and I saw the helicopter lights. I think you pulled the entire police force away from their posts to chase after you. You are such a devil."

"I'm the devil you know and love," said Samuel, pushing his pelvis into his wife's body. He planted an enthusiastic kiss on her lips. Desire raged like a fire inside Samuel's loins...
The following is an excerpt from page 98 of The Crimson Boy:
"Yet another myth, of which they abound... coffins and wood spikes and garlic cloves and coming out only at night, all nonsense, as though being blessed with immortality could be defiled by sunlight, nor do I have to subject myself to sleeping in the cramped quarters of a coffin. I do not sleep one wink, in truth. I meditate, which is as close to slumber as I come.

Myths perpetuated in pop culture are generally wrong, such as the demonstrative symbol dating back to Roman times when emperors executed Christians, criminals or gladiators... a thumb pointed upright in fact meant death, whereas a thumb pointed downward signified a sword being sheathed into the ground but of course the belief has been incorrectly re-used in film. It gives me a laugh... these enduring myths are far older than me," said Sir William.

"You don't sleep at all?" she asked.

"Never," he replied.

"Ever?" she asked again.

"You don't dream then," she surmised.

"Dreams I miss, I must confess. And what of your dreams?" he inquired.

"My dreams have crazy patters. I can't figure them out at all."

"You lose your shoes or purse quite a lot, do you not?" he asked.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Instinct," replied Sir William.
The following is an excerpt from page 3 of The Crimson Time:
Magdalene Crimson melted in sweet ecstasy. The pain hardened her nipples into rubies. Her legs were an eager, open mouth, spread far apart on the fine-oak stretching table. She gripped the clamps intensely. The worse the crack of the cane stung, the stronger grew her desire.

Samuel possessed her, changing the pitch and rhythm of her quivering flesh with rapid cracks. When he struck fiercely, the electric impulse of contact made Magdalene feel alive. Each crack felt like a hot wasp sting, reverberating and pulsating for seconds afterward.

Samuel instructed Magdalene in the arts and magic of hard play, exploring new dimensions of pain in their sanctuary, a place where boundaries were pushed in privacy.

The attic's slanted walls of brick and wood exhaled the sweat and flesh of her scent.

Her subtle and unusual aroma of fresh cut grass, her reddened flesh and writhing limbs seduced Samuel wholly. He marveled at the awesome strength of her body. Sir William Simon Hennessy, Magdalene's predecessor, had transformed her into an extraordinary female, the one and true vampire on Earth.
The following is an excerpt from page 207 of The Crimson Woman:
The unusual choice of time ideally suits an unencumbered stroll in the enclave as the lazy streets roll up past the darker stage of twilight. And the windows and doors shut and lock and the very few, the few who walk alone are unaware of what fate awaits. Nighttime is the cloak shrouding the frightening dream that twists the day of sun and cloud into a disguised form of incubus, the ancient demon who extracts purity from between sumptuous, plump thighs and suffocating the cries of objection. Nighttime absorbs and swallows the life-giving sustenance. For at night, when all should be safe at home, anything and everything is possible, the least is unimaginable and few know enough to remain indoors.

Yet, he is entirely at ease during daytime and while his preference is for night roaming, in light he is calm and reserved for the unraveling of his eternal being moves in any sphere of time and space. He delights in the irony, knowing that she sleeps during the day in the rented home he had selected so very close to her own -- she sleeps next door.

Sir William's steps are characteristically silent and smooth. He moves in Sandy Hill, walking south on Chapel Street, and then onto Stewart before arriving at Augusta and Wilbrod. He begins his surveillance of blood potential.

It has been days since feeding and his hunger is intense but he utilizes a developed defence mechanism for quelling his desire without expending unnecessary effort; his mind produces detailed imagery of plates of solid foods, to satisfy the rabid lust of one-hundred men. He wants to feed before he speaks at length with Magdalene, before he leads her to enlightenment by revealing her ultimate purpose. He estimates there is less than two years remaining in the remarkable period of time that is his life, once the new offspring is thriving, born from the love of his hybrid son and human wife.