Saturday, May 19, 2012

Everything For Nothing


EVERYTHING FOR NOTHING


     The scorching mid July sun beat down on Cynthia Chalmers bent head and back. Beads of sweat rolled between her shoulder blades and breasts. Her arms burned from the exertion of swinging the Weed Eater back and forth through the long, thick grass. The sweet smell of the fresh cut lawn wafted around her, and dandelion fluff kicked up by the whirling string, tickled her nose.

     Over the high pitched drone of her machine, the roar of a revving engine caught her attention. She glanced up, shielding her eyes against the glaring sun.

     A burgundy Durango sped down her quiet dead-end street, just outside the city limits of Vancouver. The deep thump of bass from a rap song blasted through the ground, up her legs and throughout her body.

     She leaned wearily against the handle of the Weed Eater and eyed the Durango as it turned into the driveway of the one-level house across from hers. Dust swirled from the tires, momentarily blocking her view. Then the dust cleared.

     Angus.

     She stared as the driver's door opened and he stepped out. Her heart slammed against her ribs and she straightened.

     Wow. He looked sexy today. But then again, when didn't he?

     He wasn’t overly tall, maybe five-foot ten, with broad shoulders that tapered down to a perfect behind. Muscular calves bulged below his knee-length tan shorts. The sun turned his dark brown hair to a bright mahogany.

     Angus turned, catching her staring. White teeth flashed as he smiled. “Well, hello there.”  He walked towards her, eying her up and down.

     Heat suffused her face as his dark brown eyes devoured her. Embarrassed to be caught gawking, she glanced down at her stained gray sweat-pants tucked into green gumboots, and her worn-out blue T-shirt.

Why does he have to talk to me when I look a mess? Her hand went to her hair, self-conscious of the sweaty disorder she knew it was.

     “I'm having a little get together later. Why don't you and Jack swing by?” he said. “Or maybe you should leave Jack at home this time.” He leaned in and his spicy cologne engulfed her, blocking the scent of the grass. With his lips less than an inch from her ear, he whispered, “You might have more fun without him around.”

     Her heart came to a sputtering halt and then picked up speed. Is he flirting with me? Her eyes moved to his face. It was hard to tell. But she had caught him staring before. And he was always telling her his friends thought she was hot. But did he?

     Cynthia cleared her dry throat and wiped her hands on her pants. “Ah, sure. What time should we come over?”

     He shrugged. “Around six.” He turned, heading back across the street. “Hopefully I'll see ya later.”

     Cynthia packed up her Weed Eater and walked up her long driveway. She was elated. But then the bottom dropped from her stomach. What about Jack? He was no fun at parties. He didn't like to drink, and while he didn't say it, she knew he didn't like her drinking.

     Well, too bad. She was sick of never having any fun. She was a grown woman, and he was her husband, not her father.

     “Jack,” she called as she stepped through the back door.

     “I'm in the den.”

     After dusting off bits of grass, she then wandered through the living room to the small back room they called a den. She sat on the edge of Jack's big oak desk. “Angus invited us over tonight. He's having a party.”

     “What's new?” Jack glanced up from his paperwork. He removed his glasses and rubbed his pale green eyes. Eyes that once sparked excitement in her, but now they just seemed . . . old, which should have been amusing since at thirty-nine he was a year younger than she. “I can't. I have an early meeting with the contractor for the condos I start siding next week.” A tight smile lifted his lips. “But you go ahead if you want.”

     Yeah right. Judging by his smile he didn't want her going. Well, I am. I'm sick of hanging around here, waiting for life to happen. She'd been doing that for nineteen years.
                                                                                                                                                      
       Jack had started his successful siding company ten years ago. When their two sons were small, she'd begged him to take more time off, and he promised to do so once his business grew. Well, his business was flourishing and the kids were now teenagers, and he still worked almost every day.

     She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I don't know. I might go.” She slid to her feet. “I'm going to start dinner.”

     He grabbed her hand as she walked past. “Do you want to rent a movie tonight?”

     Same old guilt trip. She shrugged and headed out the door. “We'll see.”

     Two hours later, Cynthia looked up from her plate of spaghetti when a small black truck speeding into Angus's driveway came to a dusty stop.

     “Looks like Angus' get together is gearing up to be another rager of a party,” Jack commented.

     From under her lashes, she glanced at her husband's familiar face, a face that at one time she had found handsome. In a way, she still did. His dark hair--peppered with gray--was cut short, respectable. His face was relatively unchanged but for laugh lines around his mouth and eyes and he kept in excellent shape, working out at the gym two nights a week.

     She should feel happy she was married to him. And for the most part she did. He was an excellent father and provider. So why was she so unhappy?

     Maybe because we act more like roommates than husband and wife? They never did anything together. And with their kids doing their own things, they should be out enjoying themselves. But no, he either had to work or he was too tired.

     What was lacking in her life was excitement, companionship . . . love.

     She recalled when they were first dating. Just the sight of Jack's tall, muscular body had been enough to start her heart slamming. But now? Now he was Mr. Workaholic who when home liked nothing more than to plunk himself in front of the TV until bedtime. And when she brought this to his attention, his comeback was always the same. “I work hard all day. I'm tired.”

     Like she didn't work hard? Granted, her job at Ol' Time Florists wasn't physically demanding, but it was still draining. And when she got home she had to start dinner, put the laundry on and tidy the house. And on her days off she had the grocery shopping, bill paying and yard work to take care of.

     “I hope it's not as out of control as it was last week,” Jack said, pulling her mind back to the present. “Believe me, I will call the cops this time.” He stood and carried his empty plate into their small kitchen.

     Ignoring him, she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. From her vantage point, she watched the laughing partygoers milling around Angus's front yard like ants, excited for another night of booze and loud music.

     Every Friday evening was the same. Same time. Same people.

     She smiled as the group got reacquainted with one another; back slapping, elbow nudging, high fives. The girls stood in tight groups, giggling with their low cut tops and tight shorts, displaying their supple young bodies.

     The ritual reminded her of dogs greeting each other. The image in her mind almost made her laugh.

     “Last week they kept me up until four in the morning.” Jack shook his head. “You'd think he would skip the party for once and clean up his damn yard. That pile of wood has been there since October.”

     Laughing, Cynthia grabbed her plate and set it on the counter. “Yeah, but a clean yard doesn't concern him.”

     She busied herself scooping leftover spaghetti into a Tupperware container, trying to plan her escape. No matter what, Jack would be annoyed if she went to Angus's party. So the best option was to just tell him.

     She poured herself a coffee and sat back down at the dining room table while her husband watched the evening news in the living room. Another routine she felt stifled by, especially since their two sons, Nick, seventeen and Jared, sixteen, were out with friends. They were growing up so fast and they didn't need her as they once did. And as she watched them grow it reminded her she was aging.

     Middle age, she thought with a sullen sigh. Such a strange time in a person's life; a time to reflect, a time to look back and wonder where the hell life had gone. A time that can fill you with an urgency to change what you don't like before time ran out. A time when all that once made you happy ceased to do so.

     Angus stepped out his front door, catching her attention. He clapped one of his buddies on the back before he accepted a beer. He downed the contents and crushed the can before tossing it into the knee-high grass of his front lawn.

     Her heart skipped a beat and she sighed. No doubt about it, he was one handsome man. And she had a crush on him ever since he moved in across the street two years ago.

     She surged to her feet and set her mug on the counter. “Well, I'm going to get changed.”

     Jack pushed the mute button on the remote. “What?”

     She stopped and glanced at him over her shoulder. “I'm going to Angus's. I told you I was.”

     Anger flushed his face. He turned up the volume on the T.V. “Whatever.”

     Cynthia shook her head and walked into her bedroom. After changing into a pair of jean Capri pants and a tight red T-shirt, she brushed out her long brunette hair and fixed her make-up. When she was done, she gazed at her face with a critical eye. With her make-up applied just right, the small wrinkles around her eyes were almost invisible.

     She grabbed a light jacket and headed through the living room to the back door. “I'll be home
 soon.”

     Jack gazed at her with a smirk. “Are you wearing that?”

     She glanced down at herself. “What's wrong with what I'm wearing?”

     He looked away and laughed. “You look like a forty-year old woman trying to be twenty. Pathetic.”

     Tears welled in her eyes. She swiped them away, and at that moment, she almost hated him. “Whatever. I'll see you later.” She shoved her feet into her sandals and opened the door.

     “I'll be in bed,” Jack murmured.

     Tell me something I don't know. She slammed the door.
    
     As Cynthia made her way across the street, she followed the steady beat of the music, mixed with shouts, laughter, and talking to Angus's back yard. She spotted him leaning against his patio. The moment their eyes met, a knot formed in her stomach. A slow smile transformed his handsome face into something breath taking. He excused himself and walked towards her.

      “I'm glad you made it.” He glanced behind her. “Where's Jack?”

     “He's not coming. He's tired.”

     He grabbed her and pulled her flush to his body, wrapping strong arms around her back. The feel of his hard muscles and their lower bodies pressed tight together sent a heated rush through her. His spicy, masculine scent filled her senses. She stepped back and quickly glanced in the direction of her house. From Angus' back yard, Jack wouldn't be able to see her.

     “Come join us.” Angus draped an arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the crowd. Before she could feel out of place, they all shouted a warm greeting.

     Cynthia accepted a beer and joined in the lively conversation. Angus never left her side.She glanced around the crowd, looking for April, his young girlfriend, but she was nowhere to be found.

      Cynthia turned to Angus. “Where's April? Is she at work?”
                                                                                                                                                         
      He led her away from the main body of his friends and grabbed two beers out of a cooler, and then sat down on it. He tugged her down beside him and handed one to her. “We split up.” He cracked the tab on his can and took a drink.

     “I'm sorry to hear that.” And for the most part she was, but she couldn't deny the feeling of
 happiness underneath.

     He turned to her. “She wanted more than I was willing to give her.”

     Her gaze explored his face. He didn't seem too upset. “Are you okay?”

     He smiled. “Sure. It was coming for a long time.”

     “Well, anyway, I'm sorry you split up.”

     His smile vanished as he stared at her lips. “I'm not.” He ran his knuckles gently over her cheek. “Can I tell you something?”

     Suddenly nervous, she swallowed. “Sure.”

     He leaned closer until his forehead rested against hers. “I've had a crush on you since I met you.”

     Cynthia was speechless. Stunned. “You have?” she whispered, her voice squeaking.

     He pulled back a little, his teeth flashed as his lips curled up into a wide grin. “Yep. You're a very sexy woman.”

     Pleasure rushed through her like a flame burning along a line of gunpowder. She searched his eyes to see if he was teasing.

     His warm breath and whispered words filled her ears. “I've thought about what it would be like to kiss you.”

      Every cell in her body flared to life as his words filtered into her brain. Before she could answer, one of his friends called out. “Hey Angus. Come tell Alex how Luke broke his jaw.”

     “I'll be right there.” Angus picked up his beer can and rose. He bent close to her again. “Don't go anywhere.”

     She could only nod her answer; her tongue was glued to the roof of her dry mouth. He sauntered across the patio to his waiting friends.

     Does he really have a crush on me? The thought sent warmth to her cheeks. She gulped down the rest of her beer, trying to squelch the heat.

     Cynthia ran her left hand along her thigh. Her wedding ring caught the sun's rays and flashed. All of a sudden, guilt burrowed its way into her gut like a worm tunneling into an apple. It felt like prying eyes were watching her, judging her. She checked out the crowd, but no one paid her any attention. If anyone thought the interest Angus was showing her was inappropriate, they weren't letting on.

     Cynthia set her empty can down and walked into the kitchen. Three girls sat around his table playing cards. She nodded a greeting on her way to the washroom.

     Once inside, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled with new life. No denying it, he made her feel young and pretty . . . desirable. Three things she hadn't felt for so long.

     She fluffed her hair and smiled at her reflection. There was no reason to feel guilty. He said he had a crush on her. So what? It wasn't like they were going to act on it. 

    She pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway. She halted. Angus leaned nonchalantly against the wall. Her heart fluttered while his eyes traveled slowly down her body and back to her face.

     “I was waiting for you.” He stepped closer, rubbing a callused hand up and down her arm before his fingers curled around her wrist. She glanced over her shoulder towards the kitchen, but from this angle it and its occupants were hidden. No one was there to witness their behavior. He tugged her into his small living room and sat down, pulling her with him. His arms went around her waist and he buried his face against her neck. “You smell good.”

     Desire bloomed in her like a flower opening to the sun's rays. He turned her face until their lips were mere inches apart. “I'm going to kiss you before the night ends.” His eyes locked with hers.

     “Are you cool with that?”

     She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Licking dry lips, she tried once more to speak. “I
. . . I don't . . .”

     The revving of a car's engine and the crunch of gravel under tires got their attention. Angus set her on her feet and he moved to the window. He pulled the curtains back and looked out. “Yeah,” he shouted, raising a fist in the air. “Big Johnny is here.” He turned to her. “I'll be back in a minute.” And then he rushed out the door.

     Cynthia's legs shook so hard she sagged onto the couch and held a hand over her racing heart. That was close. She had been about to give into her desires and kiss him. And she had been afraid it wouldn't have stopped there.
                                                                                                                                                         
      Heaving a frustrated sigh, she pushed herself off the couch and headed back outside. She stepped through the door looking for Angus, but there was no sign of him. Someone had started a small bonfire and it blazed cheerfully, shoving aside the gloom of early evening. She picked a cold beer from the cooler and went to stand with the others crowded around the flames.

     She finished her second beer, and then looked at her wristwatch. 9:10pm. Where was Angus? He’d been missing for over an hour. 

     Cynthia excused herself from the conversation and went to look for him. She walked into the kitchen, but it was empty so she headed toward the living room. 

     From the hallway, she heard a girl giggle and then ask, “Angus, what about April? She's my friend.”

     “Screw her. I've had a crush on you since I met you,” Angus whispered back.

      Cynthia's blood turned to ice. She inched closer and slowly peeked around the corner. Angus sat on the couch, and straddling his lap was a young woman with beautiful skin and long blond hair. Her arms were draped over his shoulders while he nuzzled her neck. “I've thought about kissing you for so long,” he murmured against her skin. The girl tilted her head back, giving him better access.

     “Well, what are you waiting for?” she replied.

      Bile rose up in Cynthia's throat. With her hands covering her mouth, she ran into the kitchen. She slumped down at the table while hot tears spilled over her lashes and down her cheeks.

     She sniffed, feeling miserable. What a slime-ball. How could he kiss another woman . . . Her thoughts trailed off as she realized she had no right to the jealousy that gnawed at her. And in a blinding flash, she saw Angus for who he truly was: a thirty-five year old, immature playboy who cared for nothing and nobody but himself. A man who had no idea what it meant to love another or what it took to be in a committed, long lasting relationship.

     Her head dropped until her forehead rested against the cool wood of his table. Shame over her behavior engulfed her. She’d been acting just like him, had been thinking of no one but herself and her own wants and desires. She blamed Jack for all the problems in their marriage because it was easier than looking at her own faults. It took two to make a relationship work and she had been neglecting hers for years.

     In a flurry of movement, she jumped up and all but flew out the door. Blinded by her tears and the dark, she ran across the street.

    “Whoa. What's the matter?”

     Cynthia skidded to a stop in the gravel of her driveway. Her hands pressed against her chest, trying to stop her galloping heart. “Jack?”

     “Yeah, it’s me. Hey, what's going on? You were running like you saw a ghost?” 

      As he walked towards her, the moonlight flashed off his glasses. She dried her cheeks with trembling hands. “What . . . why are you still up?” Her voice was thick with unshed tears and guilt.

     He ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed. “I couldn't sleep. I felt horrible.”
                                                                                                                                                        
     “About what?”

     The clearing of his throat was loud in the quiet darkness. “What I said earlier. I didn't mean it. You looked beautiful.” He clasped her hands and brought them to his lips. “You always look beautiful. I was jealous.”

     She stared at him. And for the first time in ages she saw the man she had married. The man she loved. He had always been there, just hidden under responsibilities, worries and life. And her love for him had never left. It too had been hidden under life's worries and the day-to-day grind.

     Suddenly, she jumped into his arms and hugged him to her. “Jack,” she whispered against his chest. “I love you. I'm so sorry. I have been acting horribly.”

     His arms tightened around her, pulling her to his hard warmth. “God, Cynthia. I love you so much. Things are going to change. I'm going to change. I realize I have been neglecting you and the boys.”

     She pulled back in his arms and framed his face with her hands. “You're not the only one. I’ve been neglecting you--neglecting us. But no more.”

     His lips found hers in the dark and she kissed him back, a kiss full of love and new beginnings.

     He rested his forehead against hers. “Let's go in.”

     Cynthia linked her fingers with his as they walked up their driveway. She had come so close to crossing the line, but luckily she had escaped. The love of her life had always been in front of her; she had just been too blind and selfish to see him. She would forever remember how close she came to  giving up everything for nothing. 






Monday, May 14, 2012

When I joined my critique group…


…was the scariest thing I’ve done since finding out I was pregnant in my senior year of high school.

Joining a critique group is the number one answer to the interview question, “What advice do you have for aspiring writers?”  It was also the best thing I could have done.

It’s scary because I put myself out there for people I didn’t know to judge and offer advice on the story I spent eight months writing. A story I was proud of because I finished it, HEA (happily ever after) and all. But I got past my fear and joined Rom-Critters and posted my chapters. Let me tell you the pages came back colorful. J But the comments weren’t negative. They were informative and encouraging. Yes, there was a lot of “This is data dump, delete it.” I still data dump. Can’t help it, its part of my draft process. Oh and then there was telling verses showing. I was like WTF is that?  But everyone offered me suggestions that helped. They told me what worked and what didn’t.

I learned so much from my CPs and I’m still learning more every day I write or talk to other authors.  So if you’re hesitating about joining a group, don’t. Just jump in with both feet. And remember the ALL authors started know nothing to very little.

My crit group is also where I discovered Decadent Publishing’s 1Night Stand series. I started reading the stories in the multi-author series and wanted to write one.  


 
Ravished Before Sunrise
By
Lia Davis


Blurb:
Born with the unusual ability to see what truly lies in the shadows, Emalee Black is stuck between two worlds, the paranormal and the human. Neither one accepts or understands her and she's forced to live a quiet, boring life in hiding. When her best friend mentions 1Night Stand dating service, Ema chooses a role-playing adventure straight out of her romantic fantasies. She's to hunt her very own vampire and have her wicked way him.

Vampire Darian Wyman is surprised when his daughter signs him up for a one-night stand with an exclusive matching agency. At first he's appalled by the idea, but as he reads the details of the date he becomes intrigued. For one night he will get away from the life he has long grown tired of to be hunted and captured by a would-be huntress. But he has plans of his own for his little vixen.

However, when Darian discovers the truth about Ema's inhuman abilities, the date could end before it gets started.




Excerpt

Darian logged into his email account. An unusual message flashed in his inbox. Madame Eve with 1Night Stand. Why did that sound familiar?

A vague recollection of his daughter mentioning the dating service two weeks before came to mind and he growled. God, please tell me she didn’t. He skimmed through the email and snatched the phone from the desk.

“Hello, Father.” A sweet and cheerful female voice answered after one ring.

“Where are you?”

“Shopping. Is there a problem?”

“You know anything about why I would receive a message from 1Night Stand?” He tried to stay calm and not overreact. The email could be a mistake. Maybe Kat had nothing to do with it.

“Oh! She found a match so soon? That’s great. You’ll have fun.”

Fun? “Katrina, I didn’t request to be set up on a date. I can’t go meet a complete stranger and….” he scanned the email again. “…and spend the night with her?”

“Oh, Daddy, please. This is my gift to you. Now be the adult and have fun.” Her sweet tone did nothing to soothe his growing annoyance.

“Kat….”

“I’m sick of you moping around the mansion. You need a change in your life. Besides, when was the last time you had sex?”


 
Now available at Decadent Publishing | Amazon | ARe


About Lia
Lia Davis is a mother to two young adults and two very special, equally different kitty cats. She’s a wife to her soul mate, who drives her crazy during editing/revisions. She and her family live in Northeast Florida battling hurricanes and very humid summers. But it’s her home and she loves it!

An accounting major, Lia has always been a dreamer with a very activity imagination. The wheels in her head never stop. She only recently became serious about publishing her work and loves it more than she imagined. Writing is a stress reliever that allows her to go off in her corner of the house and enter into another world she created, leaving the day job where it belongs.

Her favorite things are spending time with family, traveling, reading, writing, chocolate, coffee, nature and hanging out with her kitties.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Why one should never critique while drunk



This critique I received was actually by a good friend of mine. This is purely a joke. I hope you laugh as much as I did at some of her comments. 
I won't post her name, but if she wants to take credit for this awesomely funny crit, then she can post her name and take the glory.



Love's Prophecy
Chapter 1





Friday June 13, 2:15am comment: I think you need to be  clearer.. I live a different time zone so to really paint this for me you should include all the comparable time zones..  like this for me would be  12:15 am  this is pretty elementary ..  why don’t you know this?

Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada



From comment: Where the hell is the indentation for the paragraph? a dark corner table, Mel studied the crowd of humans while they drank and partied.  Their shouts and laughter mingled with AC/DC’s Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap comment: I don’t know this song.. can you hum this so I can understand the  flavor of this bar! pulsating throughout the dim interior of The Green Tree comment:
When I read this it makes me think of green tea.. and that is healthy but this is not a healthy place.. Change the name … ,a seedy nightclub set in the heart of downtown Surrey. Sweat, flowery perfumes, and cigarette smoke, mixed together to form a nauseating comment:Is Mel sick? cuz if he is he probably needs green tea…. See this is why you need to change the name he was probably looking for some tea to make him feel better and wondered into the wrong place.. Now what the hell is he supposed to do… sick and in a bar.. I suppose you think it's ok for him to puke and make the poor waitress clean it up .. bouquet.
Humans were clueless comment: This is so prejudiced… I am offended .. being human like I am ..  this makes you seem very bigoted... Completely unaware vampires lived amongst them. Unaware one was amidst them at this moment, watching their every move. If they knew, they'd trample each other as they stormed to the nearest exit. A dark part of him wanted to jump up, bare his fangs and shout, “I vant to suck your blood.” He smiled, picturing the scene. Yeah, too bad he left his Dracula cape at home  comment: This makes your hero seem unprepared for his job.. you should make sure the hero  projects  an image of a man who is good at his job so he can take good  care of the heroine..
Taking a sip of whiskey, Mel leaned back in his seat. Comment: Why the heck would you allow your hero to be so reckless.. drinking and leaning back on his chair..  is he some sort of adrenaline junkie..
Hard to imagine there’d been a time when both species had stood together against the evils in the world. That ended centuries ago, after humans turned their backs on vampires and listened to the lies spouted by the demons. Vampires on the other hand, kept their end of the bargain. To this day, they continued to fight, keeping humans from being wiped off the planet. 
           Mel fingered comment: Wow is this an erotic novel.. You really should  put a sex warning on this it really startled me  .. I am not sure I can continue to read this porn .. the remnants of a scar hidden along his hairline, a trophy received the night before from a demon’s blade. A violent encounter he and his fellow slayer, Kal, almost lost. Four against two was a tough fight, but they emerged the victors.
            A shapely waitress comment: See now this is the hard working woman who you want to clean up Mel's puke because you named the bar wrong..caught Mel’s attention as she retrieved her drink orders at the bar. She held a loaded tray balanced above her head in one hand. Her full breasts pushed high, almost spilling from her low cut top. Round hips swayed as she wove through the crowded tables delivering drinks to the drunk, rowdy patrons. His groin hardened and pushed against his pants. Buried underneath his sexual need, a deeper, more primitive hunger swam to the surface--a thirst comment: Oh yeah hunger and thirst? He is in a bar don’t they have drinks and snacks? What kind of place is this….no peanuts? No chips? Totally unbelievable… peanuts in the shell is better some people don’t wash their hands when they go to the potty..no amount of drink could quench. comment:I think some DPOV is needed here.. tell me about the flavor  and the food he is hungry for ..  Deep primitive hunger.. is that his need to  get back to his roots .. Perhaps food from his home country? Rustic food?
His fangs descended. He glanced away from her lush figure and willed them back.
Shit. Blood lust mixed with sexual desire was a hard combo to ignore. Too bad his mind wasn’t as eager as his body. His canines tried to slip past his lips again and he sighed. Ah hell, couldn’t fight vampire biology. And judging from the erection that bulged in his jeans, he couldn’t fight male biology either comment: What are you trying to say here? Is he gay? Against his better judgment, Mel's eyes darted back to the waitress. He groaned when he caught an eyeful of her ample cleavage. His fangs dropped further. He swore, forcing them to retract. Two against one. Looked like his baser urges were winning this war.
Mel curled his fingers around his glass and downed the last of his whiskey, ice and all. Maybe he should just split comment:Is this some sort of thing vampires have special powers for like twining or cloning.. do they split in two   do they become  two whole people or  is this just  a horror movie thing where  there are just  two halves of people  in a gory mess? This could be very gross... you should put a intense gore warning in this too .. Wow you have so much work to do on this..? He glanced at his wristwatch. 2:45 a.m. Dawn wasn’t far off. He scanned the crowd looking for Kal. What the hell was taking him so long? One more drink and he’d have to hunt him down.
            As Mel crunched the ice comment:See this is so smart he eats the ice and takes care of both hunger and thirst.. Excellent.. Well done here.., he checked on the waitress’s progress. Three tables away, she moved with the grace of a dancer, all the while avoiding groping hands.  She drew closer and peeked at him from under her thick false lashes. An unmistakable invitation shone in her blue eyes. Her scent, a tangy citrus aroma, hit his senses and her full lips parted in a smile to reveal even white teeth.  Mel smiled back, careful not to flash his own. comment:
This makes me think Mel is not as confident as a hero should be... he is ashamed of his dental work.. You should work in that he is seeing a dentist and a therapist  so you can redeem him in my eyes as a reader..
Maybe he would line-up a little pleasure. And as always, when it was over he’d wipe himself from her memory. Same drill, different night comment:
Does he practice fire drills in the bar? This could go either way.. its smart on one hand to be prepared in case of emergency but you don’t want the drunks in the place to panic..
Yet he couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm. He was sick of the anonymity of it. He wanted more. Wanted to wake up next to someone, wanted someone to share his life with. Hell, at the very least he wanted someone to remember him. comment:
 I bet if he pulled the fire alarm  the cops and the firemen would remember him..
Years ago, he had known the contentment of joining his life with another. He and his wife had shared a strong emotional tie-- one that can only be achieved through love. But his insane monster of a father made damn sure their love and happiness ended in tragedy. comment:
I think you need some of the back story here.. I bet his dad was really a perv and wanted to get into the pants of his sons  wife.. she was probably  a hussy .. winking at her father in law… what a slut.. this is really a filthy novel ..   vulgar sex,  gore,  incest..
Sweat beaded his forehead. Memories of his father bubbled up out of the dark pit in his soul, where he desperately tried to keep them buried.
Something brushed against his hand. Mel jerked back, muscles tensed as fear sped up his heart. He felt like a jackass when he realized it was only his cell-phone vibrating. He swallowed his wounded pride. Told himself his fear was because the phone took him by surprise not because he had been thinking of his father. He gave up, knowing it for the lie it was.
            The phone bounced again and skittered across the polished tabletop. With a shaky hand, Mel snatched it before it fell. It buzzed against his palm and he pushed the side button to check caller ID.
 Roarik.
Again Mel and his fingers.. he is really a sex maniac one ear in an attempt to block out the throbbing music. “Hey. What’s up?”
A faint muffle was all he heard. Mel pressed his finger in tighter. “What was that?” This time he made out Roarik’s deep voice comment:
Is this another of his gay lovers.. I think if you go for a gay novel you should really have some emotional attachments to one man on man… you can't just make him a slut.. I know he probably learned from his wife but have some character arch.. You can't just make him so one dimensional .. Sex sex sex..
but no distinct words. “I can’t hear ya. Hold on a sec, I’m going to find some place quieter.” He stood and moved through the tight press of bodies toward the restrooms. A quick check made sure it was empty. Satisfied, he brought the phone back to his ear. “Okay, what’s up?”
Wow a ménage.. is Roarik jealous here.. do they all have a relationship or  what.. you need some back story ..
?” Roarik asked in his gruff voice.
“He was hunting demons with me earlier, but he's not with me now.”
Roarik's barked curse blasted in his ear. “I’m in no mood, Mel. Where is he?" comment:
Ooo this a good story twist .. is Roarik  attracted to Mel or Kal?
“I think he’s in his truck out back of the club, feeding and screwing. Why? What’s going on?”
“Typical. Find him and get your asses back to the base. I’m calling an emergency meeting.”
Mel’s heart slowed to a crawl as unease filtered through his brain. “All right, but can you at least tell me what’s going on?
Silence filled the line, and then a heavy sigh. “The prophecy has been found.”
The prophecy? Then it hit him with the intensity of a lightning bolt. The Vampire Prophecy.  Mel cleared his suddenly dry throat. “How? When?”
More sex.really a bar filled with sex and now a midnight booty call  ..
.
The door banged open. Startled, Mel spun around.
Kal sauntered in with a big cocky grin. “Hey, I was lookin' everywhere for ya. Thought maybe you were finally gettin' some action. Guess not.”
“Kal's here now. We’re on our way.” Mel flipped his phone closed. “Let’s go.” In three strides, he was across the room.
“Yo, where’s the fire, dude?” Kal asked.
Mel wrenched the door open and the steady beat of the music rushed in. He turned and stared at Kal. “The prophecy’s been discovered.”
This is really sexy   description from Mel's pov.. see Mel is really  attached to Kal you can really tell..  I wonder what will happen when Roarik finds out.. o.. you know I started to crit this but I just can't continue I am really tired and this is such a pornographic  gory  ménage  mess … I am going to sleep .. if you really want me to I will continue to crit your crap ooo I mean manuscript tomorrow..
streaked throughout his black hair. “Are you shittin' me? When did this happen?”