Fangscreen is Done!

Woo! I’m running past to tell you I’ve finished the first draft for Fangscreen.

The main character is Jareth, a grumpy vampire who prefers the cold isolation of his forested castle but finds himself stuck on a tropical island where he hates everything!

Few things in this world were more pathetic than a vampire with insomnia. A vampire suffering insomnia on a tropical island during the heat of summer; however, tipped from pathetic to a macabre hilarity.

At least until he spots Laiken, the blond sweetheart, on his beach and is thrown completely head over fangs.

“Am I late?”

Breezing in like Apollo upon his chariot, Laiken slipped into my door’s threshold. He crossed his arms and leaned against it without a care in the world. All sense drained from my mind and I could only nod in his direction.

He shot me a thumb’s up, then extended from his back a coconut. When he placed it in my hands all I could do was stare at the thing. “Sorry I took so long. Seems it’s harder to find these things than I expected.”

“You…you brought this, for me?” I asked, certain the sun-blessed man had to mean the gift for another.

Laiken leaned closer and I breathed deep, smelling the salt of the ocean kissed across his golden skin and tropical flowers wafting from his hair. His lips nearly touched my cheek and I curled my toes at the warmth of his body near mine. “I thought you’d want to have the best party possible.”

But what’s a book without some fun supporting characters? Jareth has two close vampire friends, Fern—an elderly woman with a penchant for biting young men, and Mack—the cowboy vampire living in Paris.

“Jaysus!” I shrieked, my mortal accent flaring awake as I flung a hand to my eyes. “Mack!”

“Wha’?” the groggy drawl rolled around in my speakers and I risked a peek only to find the breasts had doubled to two naked women grappling and laughing.

“Your camera is on!” I shouted.

“So?”

“There are nubile women with their privates on display and you are sending those images into the cloud!” I cried, invoking the dreaded and eternal internet storage that hung over our lives as one would Satan.

“That’s what’s got yer cock in a knot?” Mack asked, still not visible in frame.

I was not in the mood to discuss the state of my privates. “Fern is also present.”

That hit deep. Mack cursed, “Shit. I mean…sorry.” He fell into the frame as if he dropped from the ceiling. While his chest was naked, exposing a half-healed scar from a branding iron, he had pants of a sort on. They were chaps, so nothing was left to the imagination, but he made certain to finish off his non-existent outfit with his signature ten gallon hat. “Sorry ‘bout that Fern.” The cowboy blushed, the only one out of all us with actual color remaining in his cheeks. Somehow, even undead he was more alive than the mortals.

Fern chuckled. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, dear. Though, it has been quite a while since it’s been that firm and high.”