QSFer R. Phoenix has a new MM paranormal romance book out:
While other vampires glut themselves on the rewards of a world where humans are little more than food or entertainment, Liam has found himself bored with the new status quo. An attempt to alleviate his boredom brings him to Caleb, a man who’s willing to do what it takes to get out of the slums–even if it means becoming something less than human.
“And if I don’t please you?”
The vampire rolled his eyes. “You are not so very stupid as that, I do not think,” he remarked.
No, Caleb wasn’t that stupid. But he didn’t know what the vampire liked, what sorts of things he was into, and it was going to make it that much harder to decide if he wanted to satisfy him.
Decide. Like he had that much of a choice.
Then again, vampires had tried to claim him before, and he’d always had something up his sleeve. After the first one had nearly drained him dry, he’d always taken precautions. But with things ramping up with the werewolves, he’d gotten careless.
“Skip the mark and let me go back to my previous life?”
The vampire barked out a laugh. “You amuse me. This is good,” he said, shifting Caleb in his arms. “I am called Liam, childe of Isaiah. You may call me Master. You are mine. I would ask what your name was, but I do not care who you were before. I will call you what I wish.”
“Caleb,” Caleb said anyway. “It’s Caleb. Master. And I’m not gay, so.”
Technically, he was bisexual, but he didn’t want to give up too much to the vampire all at once. Not to mention, he wanted to see just what sort of master he’d gotten himself into trouble with.
The vampire continued to walk at what felt like a leisurely pace, but Caleb realized they’d been moving much faster than he’d thought. They were already out of the slums, with the hollow-eyed blood whores and would-be pets long gone. He was safe, supper, or both.
“I do not care what your sexuality was, pet,” Liam stated, and he paused at last before a sleek SUV that had no place even close to the human sector of the city. A woman scrambled from the driver’s seat, and Caleb could easily see the intricate mark taking up most of the inside of her left wrist.
Great. If Liam decided to mark him up like that, it was going to hurt like a bitch.
“Sir,” she greeted him, bowing and then opening the door to the back of the car for them.
Liam set Caleb down on the floor of the vehicle without glancing at her, commanding with a wicked smile on his lips, “You will stay down there. Puppies do not sit on the furniture or in comfortable seats. Is that not one of the rules of the city?”
Caleb gave him a level look, not particularly sure he liked the term puppy, and Liam laughed as he climbed in. The woman closed the door behind them, returning to the driver’s seat before pulling away from the curb
At least this way, Caleb could hide the fact that he still had an erection despite the fact that the effects of the bite had long since faded.
The vampire lounged back in his seat, eschewing a seat belt, and Caleb remarked, “You know, you’d really be safer with a—.” Maybe snark wasn’t the best way to address this particular vampire. He might not like it, which meant Caleb’s life would be a hell of a lot worse for indulging in his need to speak up.
Liam snorted. “Please, pet, do not tell me you were going to say that I would be safer with a… safety belt?”
“Seat belt, as us common folk like to refer to it,” Caleb replied, interested in the fact that he wasn’t immediately struck for speaking up this time. He was having a conversation with a vampire, and he wasn’t being treated like a juice box who should be seen and not heard.
Things were looking up.
“And why would a vampire need a … seat belt?” Liam inquired.
“A vampire launched as a projectile could be a public health hazard?” Caleb ventured, and Liam blinked at him.
Chuckling, the vampire began threading his fingers through Caleb’s admittedly oily hair. Still, his voice dropped in volume as he replied, “You will mind that tongue when we are not alone, or I will remove it.”
All right, so maybe they weren’t quite that good. At least he was getting a feel for the fanger. He’d deal with snark as long as it was in private.
After a moment of soothing petting, the vampire grimaced. He pulled his hand away, wiping it on Caleb’s shirt—which wasn’t much cleaner. “Do you not bathe where you are from?”
“Not if I can help it. My men have to hold me down once a month and spray me off with a water hose.”
Liam’s eyes searched his features, but Caleb kept his expression neutral. “You will stay clean while you are with me,” he stated after a lengthy pause.
Even if it was only for the vampire’s benefit, he was still going to be able to take regular baths. If he could get baths, a steady supply of food and clean water, he would be better off than he’d been in the slums.
Things were definitely looking up.
R. Phoenix has an unhealthy fascination with contrasts: light and dark, heroes and villains, order and chaos. She believes that love can corrupt and power can redeem. Her muse is a sadomasochistic slave driver who thinks it’s terribly amusing to give her the best ideas when she just got comfortable and warm in bed, and she passes on that torture to her readers.
If she had it her way, she would describe the books in her “Ripples in the Status Quo” world as: “Supernatural creatures take over the world and turn humans into pets and food. There’s some sex between guys. And… um… effed up things happen.” It’s probably a good thing she has people around her to remind her that she actually wants people to read her books. (They should really be more diligent, especially when they know she’s writing her author bio.)
She’s an author, stay-at-home mother, housewife, second time college student, and duck herder extraordinaire. She’s learning how to cook without burning the house down, her garden is somehow neither drowning nor drying up, and one day she might remember what that mythical thing called “free time” is. She’s starting to wonder who thought it was a good idea to write bios in third person.
She also tries entirely too hard to be funny, and she mercilessly inflicts her terrible sense of humor upon anyone who speaks to her. Really, it’s not you. It’s her. All the same, she’d love it if you’d say hello, because it makes her day to hear that someone read something she wrote. If they enjoyed it, there’s usually an awkward happy dance and embarrassing sounds of joy to accompany it (no, not that kind of sound, you perv). If all of that hasn’t scared you away, please visit her website at http://rphoenix.theupsideis.com/.