Hello darlings!

Did you know that my spicy polyamorous vampire romance is coming out in *8* DAYS????

I can't believe it!

The first book in my new series, Sweet Nightmares, releases on December 24th!

It's time for you to keep reading, so I'm sending you chapter two!

(If you missed chapter one, you can read that here.)

In other, non-writing news, I'm working on some meal plans for the next few weeks. One of my kiddos can no longer have milk, so I'm coming up with lots of meals that don't include milk. Currently, my favorite thing to make is chicken stir fry.

What meals are you planning to make this winter? Any favorites? Let me know!

Love,

Sophie

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*** Sweet Nightmares ***

If you're ready to read chapter TWO of Sweet Nightmares, here you go!

You can pre-order the book HERE.

2

Melody

It’s a man.

The person who has grabbed me is a man.

He’s got a deep, bass-y rumble that washes over me like water. Like heaven. Instantly, I feel aroused, and I wonder if there’s any chance of me walking out of this situation unscathed. This guy could murder me easily, but what I want is for him to fuck me, and I hate that he’s having this effect on me.

Damn Violet and her stupid website.

I should have made her come and take the pictures herself.

Throwing my body forward, I try to break out of the man’s grasp, but he just chuckles and says, “No.”

The man is directly behind me. I’m in the last row of seats, so unless he brought his own, he’s bending over or crouching down to be able to grip me at this angle. I wish I could see him more clearly.

He loops a hand around my chest, holding me in place against the back of my chair. His arm rests just above my breasts. Just a little bit lower, and he’d be touching me there. I’m not sure whether I want to scream or cry, but the band plays on. They don’t seem to notice me.

Or maybe they haven’t stopped noticing me.

“Little girl, you’ve wandered into the lion’s den,” the man says again, and I realize that this is a test somehow.

That’s a line from a wonderful song on the Sweet Nightmares album. I’ve got it memorized, just like I have every other song memorized from Vampire’s Shadow. There’s not a single song they’ve publicly released that I don’t know all the words to. There isn’t a single fact about the band I don’t know. I’m what some people might call a superfan, which is an embarrassing way to say “nerd.”

My captor releases his hand from my mouth but says nothing.

I don’t scream.

I’ve seen enough movies to know that if you scream and you anger the person who has you trapped, you’re as good as dead.

Instead, I have to play his game, and I’m already quite sure I understand the rules.

I whisper the line I know he’s waiting for me to say. I know that this is some sort of test because the only thing the voice has said to me – aside from “no” - is a line from a song. It’s a song Vampire’s Shadow wrote about a girl who goes into this vampire nest and who is completely consumed by what she finds there.

Some might describe it as a horror song, but I’ve always felt like it was actually quite lovely.

“Don’t know if you’ll ever make it home again,” I whisper.

There’s a pause.

Is he surprised I know the song?

Maybe he is.

Maybe not.

He still has one hand wrapped tightly around my chest. The other one reaches for my throat and holds me in place. I can practically feel him.

And he smells like a mocha.

“I promise to make it hurt. I promise to make you bleed,” I whisper.

Still, he says nothing.

I swallow hard and then I whisper the rest of the lines.

“I promise to push you down so I can see you on your knees.”

The music hasn’t stopped.

Hasn’t slowed.

It’s still going at the exact same pace, but I’m pretty sure the band just restarted the same song over again. I don’t know what’s going on or where I’ve wandered, but I do have a feeling that I might be slightly in over my head.

“Who are you?”

It’s the first time he’s spoken for real.

I don’t really understand how I can hear him so clearly over the music. I definitely don’t understand how he can hear me. This guy must have supersonic hearing.

“I...uh…Melody Hawk.”

Why am I being honest?

No fucking clue.

If I live to tell this story to Violet, she’s either going to say that I’m lying or that I’m simply too stupid to live.

I can hear her voice now, “You idiot! You never tell them your real name! Now he knows where you live.”

Except for the fact that I rent a damn apartment, so no, he doesn’t know where I live.

Take that, Violet.

The man is silent for a long time. We just sit there with me staring at the band and my unknown captor standing right behind me. Or maybe he’s sitting. I don’t know. It’s completely impossible for me to know because he’s not exactly moving. He’s just staying in place. Maybe that’s a good thing.

I don’t really know.

“Melody Hawk, why are you here?”

This time, there’s a slight edge to his voice. He’s angry with me for some reason, but I don’t know why. I know I’m trespassing, but I doubt that this dude, whoever he is, somehow happens to be a property owner. He can’t be much older than me. I can’t see the band clearly, but nobody over the age of 30 or 35 at the very latest would be playing music in the basement of an orphanage.

It’s really fucking weird and it’s definitely something a young person would be doing.

Honestly, it’s the kind of thing I’d expect from teenagers.

Even me being an urban explorer at 30 years old is probably pushing the age of this kind of behavior being socially acceptable. I know that my mother would be pissed beyond recognition if she knew where I was right now. She’d completely panic and then she’d just scream.

“I’m here to take pictures.

Honesty has to be better than lying, right?

Only, the guy behind me doesn’t seem to think this is true. He grips me a little bit tighter, tugging me even tighter back against the chair. It’s a wooden chair with a soft cushion on the seat portion. There’s also a cushion behind my back. That doesn’t seem to matter with him gripping me so hard, though. The way he’s holding me makes it hard to move or to breathe.

“Try again.”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“Why would you take pictures of this place? How did you know we were here?”

I sigh.

“Listen, dumbass, I didn’t know you were here. That’s the whole point. Haven’t you heard of UE?”

“UE?”

“Urban exploring. It’s when people go explore abandoned buildings that exist in cities or sometimes out in the woods, like this place.”

“Urban exploring?”

“Yeah.” Even though my back is to him, I nod. He’ll see my hair bouncing and know that I’m not totally crazy. His next question, though, surprises me.

“Why?”

“Why would someone go urban exploring? Because it’s fun and we’re bored.”

I mean, what else is to it? Urban exploring lets you go into a place you would otherwise never get to experience. It’s totally illegal and it’s not entirely safe, but…

Well, here I am.

“And my friend is building up her website. She’s probably going to write a book at some point, too,” I add. “I’m taking pictures for her.”

You know, in case he decides to believe the taking-pictures thing.

“Taking pictures?”

I sigh. This conversation is really getting nowhere fast. At least the cover band has moved onto something new. It’s from the band’s latest album, the one that came out ten years ago. Vampire’s Shadow hasn’t produced anything in ages which is probably why most people my age no longer listen to them. A lot of people think they were great to listen to when we were teenagers, but the idea of listening to them now kind of irritates them.

Not me.

I love them so much.

I’m never going to stop listening to this band.

“Yeah, taking pictures. By the way, who is this?” I try to awkwardly point to the stage. “Is this like a cover band? Why do you practice in the basement?”

The man doesn’t say anything, and for a second, I think I must have pissed him off.

“Excuse me. I’m talking to you.”

Once again, he grips me a little more tightly.

“You’re being rude,” he tells me. “I don’t like rudeness.”

“I’m not being rude.”

“You don’t have permission to be here.”

“Neither do you.”

“This is my property,” he tells me.

“We both know that nobody our age owns property,” I point out. “So, if you’re going to tell me a lie, you should at least make it convincing. Try telling me that it’s your uncle’s orphanage and he’s out of town or something like that.”

To my surprise, the man doesn’t say anything. Instead, he slices the front of my t-shirt so it falls open, revealing my bra-covered breasts.

This guy has a fucking knife!

“What the fuck?”

He slaps my cheek.

“Language.”

“How did you do that? Do you have a knife?”

I don’t see one. It’s too dark.

“Don’t talk back. Don’t be rude. Those are my rules for while you are here.”

I’m already getting tired of it. Well, tired and excited. Who knew that danger could be such a turn-on? I guess all those romance authors were right.

Being scared does make you horny.

I can already feel myself starting to get a little bit anxious, but in a good way. It’s been a long time, I suppose, since anyone made me feel this excited. I’m not a virgin or anything, but I am the type of person who is a little bit picky about my sexual partners, so I don’t sleep around too much.

“I didn’t agree to rules.”

“I didn’t ask if you did.”

“Why don’t you just let me go?” I ask gently, wondering if there’s any chance at all I’ll make it to Red’s in time for my shift. That dude will definitely be firing me if I’m not there in time, and I need money until I can find a better job. “I need to get back to my friend. I won’t mention that you hang out down here. Nobody needs to know.”

He leans down so that he’s closer to me. I can feel this guy’s lips pressing against my ear. I still haven’t seen his face, but that doesn’t really matter because I can picture what it looks like. I’ve already formed this idea that he’s beautiful, but in a monstrous sort of way. He’s a beautiful monster. At least, that’s what I’ve worked up in my head about him.

“You already told me your friend knows about this place. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you both.”

I think this is the moment I finally realize that I’m actually in trouble. I’m in more trouble than I could have ever thought possible. Suddenly, the fact that I don’t have cell service and that I didn’t bring any friends actually seems like more than a slight oversight. It actually seems like I’ve made a really, really big mistake.

“I don’t think killing me is a good idea,” I finally say. “This place was listed on the Internet, anyway.”

“I know,” he says carefully, “but there are no pictures.”

Wait a minute, he knows?

He knows about this place being listed online?

“I thought you didn’t know about urban exploring.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t know about it,” he tells me carefully.

I realize suddenly that it’s true. He repeated the words, but he didn’t say he didn’t know. That was my own interpretation of what was happening.

The cover band is now playing another song. This one I don’t recognize, but it’s definitely a song from Vampire’s Shadow. It’s their distinct sound, and it’s got this hauntingly horrifying quality that only my very favorite band could produce.

“What song is this?”

“What?”

“What song?”

“It’s called Bride.”

“What album is it from?”

“Excuse me?”

“What album is it from?” I ask. “It’s not from anything that’s already been published. Is this one of their new songs? How did this band learn it?”

The man seems slightly surprised by my questions, I realize. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with someone who actually knows about the band.

“Look, do you know anything about Vampire’s Shadow or not?” I ask. “Because if you don’t, let me go so I can ask the vocalist. He probably knows what he’s doing. I bet he’ll tell me.”

The man behind me growls. Heads turn on stage, and that’s when I realize that they all know I’m here. They all know I’m here, and for some reason, despite the super dim candles lighting the room, they can all see me.

This means they can see my breasts. Yeah, I’m wearing a bra, but it’s a lacey one, so it’s barely covering anything anyway. If they can actually see me, then they can probably see the outline of my dark brown nipples. For some reason, this makes them harden. Why am I getting excited about this?

“Why did you growl?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?”

“Because I’m a person who is being held against my will in a weird basement with some guy who hasn’t even shown me his face,” I say simply. Then I add, “and who doesn’t seem to know very much about the greatest band in the world.”

He’s silent for a moment.

“Say that again.”

“I said you suck at music.”

He tightens his grip.

“The other part. The part about Vampire’s Shadow.”

I try to remember what exactly I just said.

“Oh…that they’re the greatest band in the world?”

“That part.”

“Well, they are. I don’t know why you don’t see it.”

“I see it.”

“Then how come you didn’t know what album their song is from? It’s unreleased, you know. The song Bride has never appeared on any Vampire’s Shadow album for the last fifty years.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know everything about them.”

My only real regret in life is that I was born too late to ever attend any of their concerts live. Vampire’s Shadow really peaked in the 70s and 80s. They haven’t made any public appearances since 1988, when they played their last public concert in front of a crowd of less than a thousand people. It wasn’t because people didn’t want to go, either. It was because people wanted to go so badly. Tickets were over a thousand dollars each. I have no idea how they managed to get people to pay that, especially back in the 80s, but apparently, they did.

Then they just went quiet.

“They haven’t appeared in public since ’88,” I say. Is it my imagination, or is his grip loosening? “Despite the fact that they release albums, on average, every five years, they haven’t made another public appearance. Nobody knows why. Their last album came out ten years ago, though. They didn’t make a release five years ago and they didn’t release anything this year, but their website is still active, and they even have a social media presence. It’s just that they don’t post pictures anymore.”

And they don’t respond to fans anymore.

I’ve been trying for years to get them to send me an autographed poster, but their only real mailing address is a PO box in the middle of nowhere that I’m not even convinced they check. I’ve thought about going to Hamprantion, wherever the hell that is, and just camping out at the post office to see who picks up the mail at their box.

I haven’t, though.

I’m not that obsessed.

“You don’t know what you think you know,” he says. “Now keep your eyes on the band.”

I don’t know why I want to obey this guy. He’s a man. I haven’t seen his face. He’s being bossy and mean and he might actually murder me at some point, but it’s just so damn dangerous and sexy, and there’s something really smooth about his voice. Plus, he kind of smells like coffee, and I might be slightly obsessed with coffee.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Whatever I want,” he murmurs, and he presses a kiss to my cheek before sliding his tongue across my skin and nipping at my ear.

And to my utter horror, I moan.

I actually fucking moan.

Instantly, I regret making this sound because the band stops playing again and everyone turns to stare at me once more.

Yeah, they’re definitely all staring at me.

How the hell are they hearing me so well? I can barely hear myself think, yet they all seem to have no problem picking up on all of the little sounds I’m making.

“Play,” the man behind me says, and the band starts up again. They launch into a slightly sped-up version of The Human Who Remains, which is a song – once again – about vampires who fall for humans. Vampire’s Shadow has a theme, and it’s death and humans.

Well, that or sex and humans.

It’s kind of debatable sometimes which topic is the most prevalent in their work.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make them obey.”

“I’m in charge,” he says quietly.

“Is that the reason you noticed when I came in the room?”

I thought I was being sneaky and quiet.

“I noticed you long before you came in the room, dear.”

Dear.

He called me dear.

He knows my name because I told him. He called me dear though, and weirdly, I don’t actually hate it. It’s not like when my grandmother calls me dear or when the lady at the store gives me my change and says, “Have a nice day, dear.”

No, this is different.

When this dude calls me dear, I’m pretty sure it’s because he wants to fuck me.

And I don’t think I would hate that.

How messed up is that?

“Watch the band,” he tells me.

“I’m watching.”

“They’re watching you, too, Melody. They’re thinking about how gorgeous you are.”

My pussy tightens involuntarily. Shit. How is this guy doing this? He’s making me so excited, and he hasn’t even really touched me. He’s making me feel like the world is my oyster. He’s making me feel like no matter what happens, I’m going to be better than fine because it’s going to end in sex.

And possibly my murder, but definitely sex.

“Pull your tits out, Melody.”

I stiffen.

“What?”

“Pull them out. Flash the band. Show them how much you want them.”

“I…”

“Don’t be shy, princess,” he says.

And suddenly, I feel like I can’t breathe.

“Give them a show they’ll never forget.”

I bite my lips and close my eyes.

I want to.

I want to do all of these deliciously dirty things he’s telling me to.

“You love their music, Melody. Show them.”

He’s right. I know that this is just a cover band, but I really do love Vampire’s Shadow. They’re the greatest musical influence to ever impact gothic music. They’ve changed the world, and my biggest regret in life is never getting to see them play. Somehow, seeing this cover band makes me feel really alive. It’s like, almost as good as the real thing.

Almost.

And I’m never going to get to see the real thing.

And I’m probably never going to get to the surface of the world again, so I might as well have some fun, right?

“It’s not the type of thing I usually do,” I whisper.

“Why not?” He doesn’t struggle to hear my words even when they’re practically silent. When he speaks back to me, it’s almost like I can hear him speaking directly to my soul. I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s just that I can hear him inside of me.

He loosens his grip on my chest and instead of having one arm wrapped across my front, he now holds both of my shoulders with his hands. My ripped t-shirt is hanging open with my bra-clad breasts in front of me.

I know that no matter what happens next, my entire world is about to be completely rocked.

“Because it’s not proper?”

“Are you asking me whether showing your tits to strangers is proper?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

“Then why isn’t this the type of thing you usually do? You’re gorgeous.”

This guy is telling me that I’m gorgeous like it’s totally matter-of-fact. It’s like, this isn’t up for debate. He doesn’t seem to be sharing this like it’s his own personal opinion or anything. He just wants me to know that this is how it is.

I’m pretty.

He thinks I’m pretty.

He thinks I’m gorgeous, and he thinks that the band wants to see my breasts.

For some reason, this is enough of an incentive for me to reach for the clasp in front of my bra and open it. It falls open, revealing my breasts, and I know that even in the darkness, the band can see everything.

I’m not surprised when the man behind me slides his hands down my shoulders and over to my nipples. He doesn’t completely palm my breasts at first. Instead, he just traces little circles over my nipples. They somehow get even harder.

“What did I tell you? Gorgeous.”

“I don’t even know your name,” I whisper.

“Is that important?”

I’ve never let anyone feel me up who didn’t know my name. Then again, I’m not really sure if I’m letting this man do anything. He kind of seems to just be doing what he wants.

And I seem to be okay with this.

Want to keep reading?

You can pre-order the book HERE.