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11

SUNDAYS WITH SHARON: YOU CAN LEAVE YOUR HAT ON

IMG_9130I've walked past this little store for what I thought was a year. Turns out it's been open for three. Who would have thought this little hat store would thrive in the heart of Wine Country where we have foodies and wine enthusiasts from all over the world descend. But apparently it does. What makes it special is that they custom make their hats. Except or the special ones for the Kentucky Derby, they specialize in making men's hats. I didn't even know there was an industry for this, but I'm not a guy.

Every Easter, my mother would wear the widest brimmed hat she could find. She'd wear it straight on her face, bisecting her large square forehead and covering up her widow's peak someone from one of her father's churches said was the sign of the devil. I always thought she looked like Saturn with its rings. I wasn't into hats or gloves, another thing we wore on Easter and when we went to New York City, where every other person would yell “tourist” as we walked down the street. Made absolutely no difference to my mother, no matter how mortified my little brother and I were. It was a Miss Jean Brody kind of moment, “Come along,” and of course we would. I mean, how would we get back to California?

IMG_9129

Later I would love the big floppy hats wit huge flowers all over it in my hippie youth, wearing them with granny dresses, platform shoes with real hardwood heels that really hurt when you turned your ankle, peace symbols and the biggest hoop earrings we could manage that wouldn't drag on our shoulders. Wearing a hat was a statement, just like the statement my mother made in church. With that straight brim and her strong brown eyes that could see right through a person, she might as well have worn a holster and a Colt .45. She was aiming for souls. I was so glad to be invisible and only in grammar school, where acting up was still a little on the cute side. I didn't have the taste for conquest. That wouldn't happen until later and then, well, that's another story.

This hat store was enchanting. Hats are very personal things. I became a different character with each little hit I tried on. A small green pointy hat screamed for a clown face and big red nose. The black clutch hats with a veil made me feel like the merry black widow plotting murder and mayhem. And then I came upon the mushroom hats.

IMG_9119Made in the mountains of Transylvania! How perfect for a pre-Halloween post. These hats are actually made from a special mushroom only grown there, and being harvested right now. I'm not sure if this was the birth of the phrase, “I'll eat my hat,” but in California you never eat mushrooms without a spirit guide, not to mention an Emergency Room close at hand. They are odd little buttons, but very velvety and look more like imitation mushroom instead of the real thing. But they are the real thing. They even smell like real mushrooms.

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IMG_9127I rather liked this one in the end. It wasn't hippie, but had an ancient ancestor there. It was already folded and scrunched, which is more my style than the straight brimmed hat that had to live in a hat box three feet in diameter on a top shelf forever. I can't do the little feather and things the Queen Mum used to wear, but this one seemed to suit me.

So, hat's off to a great little store. As I wear two hats and launch into my 8th SEAL Brotherhood Series book, SEAL's Promise, I'm also promoting my paranormal series The Golden Vampires of Tuscany and The Guardians. Who says you can't wear two hats? I'm rather proud to say I can.

NYT and USA/Today and Amazon Top 100 Best Selling Author Sharon Hamilton’s SEAL Brotherhood series have earned her Amazon author rankings of #1 in Romantic Suspense, Military Romance and Contemporary Romance. Her characters follow a sometimes rocky road to redemption through passion and true love. Her Golden Vampires of Tuscany earned her a #1 Amazon author ranking in Gothic Romance. A lifelong organic vegetable and flower gardener, Sharon and her husband live in the Wine Country of Northern California, where most of her stories take place.

 

sharonhamiltonauthor.com
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Mortal Bite now in Audiobook!

Mortal Bite

The Golden Vampires of Tuscany #2

mortal.audio

Originally published: February 10, 2013

Now in audio format!

Book Summary

Golden Vampire Paolo Monteleone begins raising a son he did not know he fathered, after the murder of the boy's mother. He meets a beautiful human college professor, Carabella Sampson, at a Halloween costume ball. She is an expert on vampire lore, but doesn’t quite believe in their existence. Paolo dresses up as himself: a vampire.

A dark coven leader has targeted her for elimination, before she can reveal secrets of the Golden Vampire lineage she's obtained from an ancient book. Can there be a happily ever after if either his lover or his young son has to pay the ultimate sacrifice to protect the Golden Vampire race? And how in the world will Paolo be able to choose which one to save?

Buy Audiobook from:

Audible | Amazon | I Tunes

 

Fool For Love

I have been this. In fact, I don't think I have ever spent much time being alone ever since I discovered the opposite sex. I mean, why? Things are so much better.

I'm thinking of all the lines about Love and Sex I've used over the years. Here are a couple of them that stand out to me:

1.  “I was looking for Mr. Perfect and forgot to look for Mr. Right.”  SEAL The Deal

2.  “I am still willing to be your meal.”   Honeymoon Bite

3.  “He had the brass band, the pom poms and the cheerleaders all working for him now.” SEAL My Destiny

4.    “Sometimes things that are oh so good for you are also bad for you.”  Fallen SEAL Legacy

5.    “Too small,” he whispered. When she turned to look, his eyes focused on her lips. Her knees were shaking. She melted when she heard him murmur, “But it will have to do.”     Accidental SEAL

6.    “Life is full of complications.”      Heavenly Lover

7.    “I like entangled. I like rich and deep and I like to be sorely missed when I'm gone.” SEAL My Destiny

8.    “I'm entranced by your scent. Do you taste as good?”   Mortal Bite

9.    “Because,” he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles, “she won't be afraid to tell me what I need to do to please her, with or without the pajamas.”  SEAL Under Covers

And to wrap up, here is an excerpt from one of my favorite books that gets little love. So, today, won't you love a tiny bit of it? It is the meeting between Josh and Melanie and sets off the uncontrollable craving of the Dark Angel for the human woman who runs a flower shop.

It involves the crushing of some beautiful red roses. How perfect for Valentine's Day. Enjoy:

Excerpt from Underworld Lover:

             Josh
then walked briskly across the street, dodging traffic, toward the gated
opening. Music was playing in the background, laced with birdcalls. Colorful
birdhouses of various shapes were affixed to poles grounded in large
earth-filled pots.
 Homes and castles for the fine-feathered
things I hate
. Josh saw
them as nuisances and impediments to his late morning sleep. He didn’t think it
was natural anything could be that happy all the time.
            Pots of large showy pink and purple hydrangeas
along with lemon bushes overloaded with deep yellow fruit and fragrant white
blossoms formed the next line in front of the birdhouses. On the floor, tucked
away randomly, were shallow pots filled with blooming spring flowers in all the
colors possible. Josh’s nose itched. He hadn’t seen so much blooming color
since his last trip to the Farmer’s Market to visit his friend Simon, the
electric cellist who liked to play his sad music and pick up girls.
            She’d
probably like one of Simon’s CDs.
He made a point to get one to her right
away. Embedded in the music was a very subtle NLP message a human could not
hear except subconsciously; praying for sex, praying for death.
            Josh walked through the entrance and
was assaulted with a big bouquet of red roses that was moving so fast he was
unable to stop before impact. Immediately he felt the crush of the delicious
red flora. They emitted their syrupy sweetness through petals that fell on the
shoulders and blond head of a beautiful young woman with light pink skin. She
looked up at his face, hers registering shock. Her eyes were wide and deep blue
as the sky. He was drowning—his heart stopped for a second. The scent of thyme
herbal hand cream, fresh lemon soap, and lip-gloss infused with a cherry flavor
filled his nostrils. He knew that if he willed her, he could make her stand in
front of him, raise her chin, part her lips for him, and beg he claim her.
And, as gratifying as it would be, he
didn’t want to make her do it. At last, he shared something in common with
Felix.

            He wanted to keep her from being captured.

Send me proof that you've purchased SEALed With A Kiss and have also shared that purchase on FB, and I'll gift you one of my audio books of your choice.
Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.

8

Halloween – May the Honeymoon of your Bites Continue!

I remember attending my first RWA Convention in New York several years ago. I sat in on a JR Ward panel discussion about writing Alpha heroes. Her comment was something like this:

Is there anything so exciting, so masculine as a big, dark alpha male vampire?

I sat there blinking, my heart pounding as I realized the answer to that was, “No.”

So this is Halloween. Last day of the month of October, legendary amongst Pagans and Christians alike. Shrouded in mystery, myth and whatever else we want to throw in there – the possibility of danger and the excitement of a new adventure, I'm re-printing the chapter I just love from Honeymoon Bite where the Hero, Marcus Monteleone, meets his long searched for fated female, Anne. What Anne doesn't know is that Marcus is the one who turned her, after he found her left for dead. Since he'd spent 300 years searching for his one fated female, he couldn't just let the life drain from her. And he has been ordered by the Vampire Council to wait 30 days before he can re-contact her. So, she has no clue who he really is, or how her life is about to change forever, in ways she could never imagine.
For those of you from Sonoma County, I wrote this scene in a purple velvet chair in the corner of the Bennett Valley Starbuck's. I can still remember that day.
Enjoy this little tidbit. Love my stepchild of a book that gets no love. At least on Halloween, spend some time with my injured Alpha male vampire and his soon-to-be bride:

“Does your husband know about your appetites?” From behind
Anne came a gravelly male voice that sent shivers down her spine. The screams
of the Starbuck’s espresso machine made her wonder if she’d really heard the
voice. But the male scent of him was impossible to miss. The hairs at her neck
stood at attention, telegraphing urgency. The urgent sensation extended well
beyond her waistline. Time stood still before she could bring herself to turn
around and fall under the warm gaze from this tall dark male that covered her.
Not man. Male.
He held her gaze as she stood, transfixed, unable to move or
to speak. That was the way it felt. Being held. “I’m sorry?” she blurted out
finally.
“Don’t be sorry, my dear. It’s a simple question.” The ends
of his lips curled up at the corners. When he inhaled, his chest extended, and
he appeared several inches taller. Then he exhaled and she was covered with the
same musky scent, incapacitating her, wrapping around her like a warm shroud.
It was familiar.
She heard mournful viola music drip with slides and rifts
that pulled on her heartstrings. She felt dizzy. Did she hear him murmur a
groan? Or maybe it was a small earthquake? Probably an ordinary person wouldn’t
hear or feel it. But she did.
Anne was on alert; this male took liberties with her
feelings.
What a crazy thought.
Ridiculous.
He leaned forward, grazing just the edge of her forearm with
his warm hand. An electric spark pricked her. He leaned against the counter and
looked at the barista, not her. “I’ll pay for the lady’s drink.”
She noticed the strong pulse at his neck. Healthy. Smells wonderful.
“And what would you
like, sir?” The young barista was pert. Anne didn’t like her perfect white
teeth. That and the fact the girl’s shirt was made for a ten-year-old,
showcasing her pierced bellybutton.
“I have all I need.” The rumbling words sparked shivers
again down Anne’s spine. He said it just next to her ear, barely touching the
small of her back . . . He was facing the barista, but deep inside Anne knew
the words were meant for her ears only.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Anne suddenly found the urge
to speak.
“My pleasure.” He removed his hand and gave a slight bow.
A bow? No one had ever done that before. Anne
had just fed. She wasn’t hungry enough to play the game this afternoon, having
gorged herself on a salesman who liked to eat garlic fries. His blood was thick
with fat globules she could almost see as well as taste. But it went down
smooth.
So maybe she would play along. This stranger might be a good
candidate for a snack tomorrow. She had never fed twice in one day. She
wondered what being too full would feel like in her current state. It would
probably make her horny. Well then, maybe she should reconsider. She should do
a wet feeding. That way she wouldn’t have to be too careful, could gorge
herself on him. He’d be wonderful to look at in the shower, and his hands might
do something unexpected to her. Something memorable in a string of unmemorable
feedings.
His hand gently touched the small of her back again, and she
allowed herself to be ushered to a corner table, flanked by two purple velvet
overstuffed chairs. They sat, facing at right angles to each other. The counter
girl called out Anne’s drink. He was up and walking over to pick it up for her before
she had a chance to react.
She watched him cross the coffeehouse like a thirsty
traveler eyeing a pitcher of water. He was probably six foot six. His dark hair
was pulled back in a short ponytail. His black leather bomber jacket showed his
nice ass and those long lanky legs that went all the way to Heaven. Even for
his size, he appeared graceful. Unassuming. Confident. And the nicest looking
male from behind that she had ever seen.
And then he turned, holding the little white paper cup with
two fingers, the other ones splayed out, large as antlers. She could see how
long his fingers were, how substantial. She envisioned what those hands could
do to her. But as sexy as he was, he also made her mouth water to feed.
His prominent jaw line sported blue-black stubble. His
strong pulse would be no problem at all, but she would have to bite a little
harder to crack the skin. Maybe he would let her take him slowly. Then she
could kiss other parts of him in between while his heart pumped more of the
blood she craved. His lips were bright red and full. She would enjoy sucking
them, licking them. Perhaps biting them.
His eyes found their way to hers, and when she met his gaze,
she became self-conscious of her thoughts, as if somehow he could read her mind.
Anne told herself it was her craving for blood that caused the almost sexual
attraction for this male. After she fed, surely she wouldn’t feel this way, she
thought.
He delicately deposited the white cup in her hands. One finger
touched and almost rubbed against hers. She thought she was imagining the
touch, of course. Between her legs, a warm pool had formed. It was a curious
place to feel hunger, a hunger of another kind. She blushed at her erotic
thoughts.
“You like cappuccino?” He seemed intrigued by the idea.
Dancing eyes, all over her upper torso, his breathing steady but deepening.
“Yes. I need the caffeine in the afternoon.”
That little hitch in his throat, almost like a moan of
surprise. “And here I thought your 
cheeks were flushed and ripe from a good
meal.” Those black eyes peered right to her soul. Almost as an afterthought, he
smiled, and the dark became brown, ringed with a coppery color that drew her
in.
I’ll play your game.
“Yes. After a big meal, I get tired sometimes.”
He nodded. “I remember that.”
Anne looked out the window. This was beginning to feel
dangerous. She grabbed her drink and stood. He stopped her by placing one hand
on her wrist. His action was soft, but deliberate. This male won’t be denied.
“Please, sit just a little longer. Then I’ll let you go home
to your husband.”
“Go? You’ll let me go? What kind of talk is that? I think .
. .” She began to rise again, but his firm grip on her forearm stopped her.
“Hear me out just a bit.” He did appear to be begging. Could
it be she saw a flash of pain there? No
way.
“How do you know I’m married?” she snapped out, letting her
impatience show.
“You wear a wedding ring.” He fingered her ring slowly,
sensually. She let him touch her, perhaps a bit too long. She was going to
correct his misconception but decided to leave him thinking she was protected
by another man. Safer that way.
But was she looking for safe?
There was an obvious physical attraction between them. She
had not felt this before, not since before she was made.
“Do I know you?” she asked, ignoring the comment about her
marriage.
“No. Ask it another way.” The huskiness of his voice made
her ears buzz, like he was brushing his lips across them, like they were in bed
whispering unmentionable things to each other.
“Do you know me?” Her eyebrows rose at the ridiculous
suggestion that seemed to be planted in her brain from somewhere else.
He very lightly nodded, his obsidian eyes flashing. “Oh,
yes. I have waited a long, long time for you.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m outta here.” Anne jumped up, her
coffee in her hand. She slung her purse over her right shoulder and stormed off.
He followed her outside, keeping pace like they were walking in unison. She
stopped suddenly.
“Look. Whoever you are, I will call the police if you don’t
leave me alone.”
“And tell them what?”
“Tell them there is a very strange male following me,
bothering me.”
He groaned again. The ground beneath her feet rumbled when
he did that. “I like that you say male.”
She backed up, raising her palms up and out in his
direction. “Please, please leave me alone.”
“Agree to meet me here tomorrow at this time and I won’t
follow you.” He smiled. “I promise.” He held his hand over his heart. Anne felt
a small tug at her own, as well as an ache down below.
“Alright,” she said, willing herself to say no when her body
wanted to say yes. She’d wrestle with her decision if she could just get away
from him right now. This coffee house would have to be forever off her list. “Tomorrow
at four. But I will call the cops if you don’t stop this, this, way you are being—”
He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her close his chest. She
struggled, but he held her tighter the more she wiggled, and yet she enjoyed
the physical play between them. No matter how hard she fought, he would win. She
softened and heard his sharp inhale. The spice on his cheeks was a familiar
scent to her and, relaxed her just enough so she wouldn’t collapse entirely
being so close to him. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Go for now,
little one. But as for leaving you alone, there isn’t a chance in Hell that
will ever happen. See you tomorrow.”
And then he was gone. Just gone. Nowhere to be found. She
turned around and around and there was no trace of him. No car leaving the
parking lot. No door being opened. Just the normal day all around her.
She was hungry and scared. She liked feeling both emotions
equally.
She knew it was going to be forever until four o’clock
tomorrow.
A feeding would take up the next hour. Only twenty-three
more to go.
Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.

6

Oh The Halloween Ball!

Finally we get all dressed up and attend that wonderful Halloween Ball. That night at the Julia Morgan Ballroom,  I truly did step right into the pages of my story. We entered the room under a canopy of twinkle lights as if we were entering the realm of a faerie castle. I found the anonymous nature of not knowing anyone there except my husband very sexy and alluring. Everyone was painted, masked, padded or wigged up. The mobile DJ was the devil himself!

I can't remember eating, or sitting down, but at some point we did retire to a dark little corner of the bar. We sipped port. And that's when the story began to take shape….

(Excerpt from Mortal Bite)

Sparkle dust was in the air, tickling his nose. The amber-colored candle
on the table filled the air with the fragrance of blood oranges, Anne’s
favorite scent. He should know, he chuckled to himself, since Marcus had placed
hundreds of them throughout his villa for her.
Paolo watched faeries dance with trolls, and idly ran his gaze over a scantily
clad woman in black with huge breasts as she undulated and massaged her body
over her partner’s. There were werewolves, storm troopers, kings and queens.
Some men and women danced with partners of their own sex, some cavorted in
groups.
He removed his cape and left it dangling over his chair as he went in
search for a good glass of

port. He preferred to have the enticing sweetness of
port on his breath, should he meet a lady he wanted to speak with. His fangs
craved the flesh of a mortal woman tonight.

The scent of jasmine was strong as he edged his way between the dancers
and a table filled with donuts of every size, color and confection. The
pastries were resting on a bed of candy corn and caramel popcorn. Paolo’s teeth
ached at the thought of tasting the over-sweet treats.
Lucius would have loved this. Paolo
smiled as he mused how sick the boy would have been the next day.
Something soft bumped into his backside. Something that smelled
wonderful.
He turned and brushed intimately against a beautiful, auburn-haired woman
with green eyes, whose curves made the most of a white Renaissance gown with a
plunging neckline . Feathered wings were sewn on the back of the dress, and her
long, draping sleeves almost touched the floor when her hands were down. Everything
he’d lectured himself about not getting involved with mortal women flew away
with the blink of his eye.
Upon seeing Paolo, she raised her palms to her face and hitched her
breath, as if startled.
“Oh, my. What have we here?” she said.
To a mortal, the loud music would have made it impossible to hear what
she said. Paolo could hear every breath, every syllable rolling off her pink
tongue as clearly as if she’d whispered it in his ear. Something silky slid
down his spine as a door within him opened.
“I am a vampire, madam, at your service.” Paolo bowed and kissed her
extended fingers.
Did I make her offer her hand, or
did she volunteer it?
“But your lips are warm. That means you are an imposter.” She smiled and
the world lit up.
“I assure you, madam, I am no imposter.” He felt his groin go rigid. He
noted the blue pulsing vein at her neck quicken as her heart fluttered, sending
her scent to his waiting nostrils.
She turned and gazed over her shoulder at a young man dancing madly into
oblivion. Her partner did not notice his date had been distracted by the charms
a new dark visitor. Someone who could be dangerous to her health.
Modern men. So naïve. They let
their women wander way too much, allowing them to be gobbled up by
straycatchers…
She turned and looked up at him, as though she was expecting Paolo to say
something.
“Would you like some refreshment?” he finally asked her. His insides
began to flutter in tandem with the beating of her heart.
Her eyes took on a momentary sparkle that thrilled Paolo. She turned and
regarded her young dancing partner without much interest. Putting her hands
aside her mouth, she shouted to him, “Johnny!”
The blond dancer jerked, then broke out in a toothy grin, raising his
palms and undulating his torso in tune with the grinding music. Paolo didn’t
like the sexual sway and suggestive jest aimed at his new interest.
“I’m getting something to drink,” the woman mouthed her words silently
and followed it by drinking from an imaginary glass in her right hand.
Johnny gave her the thumbs up and started to go back to his wild
gyrations, but hesitated as he looked at Paolo. A frown of worry marred his
sunny countenance
She shook her head and waved him away from across the dance floor. Paolo
heard her say, “No problem. You have fun,” but doubted Johnny had heard a
thing.
A glittery faerie dancer came up behind Johnny and slid under his knees,
pressing into his backside that drew a whoop from him. The young man was
instantly distracted by the way the little one rubbed herself all over his
trousers.
Paolo’s new friend leaned back and laughed, her neck and shoulders
sparkling with glitter. He could smell how good she would taste. He saw as well
as felt what she liked sexually and knew he could satisfy her—do things, make
her feel things, she had never dreamed possible. He stole glances while she was
distracted by the bodies writhing on the dance floor and the sparkle of the
costumes.
Then she turned. Paolo and his mortal beauty and her red lips faced each
other fully at last. Her reddish-brown curls called to his fingers as his mouth
anticipated kissing her, tasting her, making her shudder in his arms.
The woman was waiting for him to lead the way. Paolo held his breath. He
wanted to be sure she was coming of her own accord. He refrained from glamoring
her.
Does it matter?
He decided that tonight it did.
Leave a comment and be entered to win a $50 gift card from Amazon on midnight tomorrow night. Don't forget to head back to Sable Hunter's other blog affiliates by clicking the button at the upper right of this site. New prizes are in store for you tomorrow from others! Consult the schedule for a list of upcoming posts.
My question for you is this: What costume would you wear if you could meet your 300-year old fated mate at a Halloween Ball? Answer here, and then tell Sable's minions you did it and invite them to drop on by…
Enjoy!
Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.

6

Reviving Dark and Shameless Stories for Halloween

Who doesn't love a good Halloween haunting story? Like dusty old vamps that come back to life at night, I've neglected my paranormal series and have chosen Sable Hunter's blog hop to kick it off. So help me show it some love.

Two years ago, my husband and I attended the Afterlife party in San Francisco, at the Julia Morgan Ballroom. I went as an angel, and my husband a vampire. We had a ball. There were little green faeries, pods of Smurfs, vamps, sexy witches, ghosts and costumes of famous people. Music was rockin.

I used that party (and of course embellished it) to use in a chapter for Mortal Bite, Book 2 in the Golden Vampires of Tuscany series. My hero, Paolo Monteleone, is a real life Golden Vampire. He dresses as himself for this party, and there, meets a beautiful young college professor who studies vampire literature and lore.

Here is a very brief excerpt from Mortal Bite where the hero is readying himself for that great Halloween costume party where his life will change forever:

Paolo Monteleone swirled the black cape around his body as he checked the
guest chamber’s full-length mirror. The fabric arrived at his knees and calves
well after he stopped spinning, and then draped back away to sway a few inches
from the floor. He could see his face in the polished sheen of his shoes.. The
tux and red cummerbund, an elegant presentation, belonged to his brother,
Marcus, but it fit him perfectly. Marcus’s man had done well. The costume was a
fitting outfit for any good vampire gentleman.
It had been a year since he’d returned to Italy, repairing the damage
he’d caused his brother and his new wife. A year of learning to be a father to
his son, making amends to the other Monteleone family members who at first
didn’t trust that he wouldn’t run off again and try to live as the mortal he

wasn’t.

When Marcus and Anne graciously invited him to join them in California
wine country, Paolo immediately agreed. The change of scenery was doing him
good. Tonight he was going to attend his first party without a member of his
family.
The door burst open and Lucius, all four feet of him, raced straight for
Paolo. The boy wore his Superman cape and red boots—rain boots, to be
exact—with all the pride of the superheroes he loved to emulate.
Paolo bent over and lifted his son, pressed the flesh of this little
superhero to his chest and nuzzled just under the boy’s right ear. The fresh
smell of his mortality was the most satisfying moment of Paolo’s day. Eventually,
Lucius would have to make the choice whether to remain mortal or become golden
vampire. But not yet. Not until he was of age.
“And just where are you heading out to? Anne taking you
trick-or-treating? It’s not Halloween yet,” he murmured affectionately into the
side of the boy’s face.
Lucius drew back and his dark eyes flashed at his father, which always
managed to melt Paolo’s heart.
“I’m going with you to the party, father.” His coppery brown eyes and
pink cheeks made him look sweet despite the heavy, jagged, and uneven eye
makeup he must have applied himself.
“Lucius, you could hurt yourself putting all that kohl around your eyes.
You should have asked your aunt for help.”
“Well, Anne and Marcus…” the boy paused and blushed.  “They’re busy all the time.”
“Ahhhhh,” Paolo said. He envied his brother and his long-awaited fated
female and their new baby. The fact that Marcus found Anne after three hundred
years of searching meant there might still be hope for him. Not a fated female,
but someone to love and be loved in return.
A shadow suddenly covered his heart, and gave him a chill. He composed
himself and addressed his son.
“Lucius, time enough for parties when you’re older. This one is for
grownups only. Not for…”
“Kids,” Lucius finished with resignation. “But I want to go. You will protect me, father.”
Indeed he could. Not an hour went by when Paolo wasn’t fearful of the
fact that Lucius, still mortal, could die, and Paolo, vampire, would be left to
grieve for all eternity.

Come back to visit tomorrow, and you'll get to read some of the hero/heroine's first ghoulish words to each other. Spoken over a thick glass of port.

Today and tomorrow, we're going to have a giveaway, a $50 Amazon gift card for each day. In order to win, you must leave a comment here. Answer this question: What do you love the most about reading vampires? If you email me at sharonhamilton2001@gmail.com, you will get a special Blood Never Lies necklace as pictured above. One $50 winner will be announced on this blog site at midnight  tonight! But, even if you don't win the Amazon gift card, you can still win one of these blood dog tags just for leaving a comment here today. Enjoy, and thanks for showing up today.

Don't forget to find the schedule of all the other blogs participating in this huge event by clicking on the Halloween Blog Hop button at the upper right of this page. Tell everyone about what you've read and commented here. The Main Event is October 26th at 5 PM on Facebook. Details on the button above.

Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.
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Lucky In Love Blog Hop

Welcome to my twisted version of Lucky in Love for the famous blog hop of the same name. Since I'm promoting my newest book, Mortal Bite, I'm talking about 300 year old Golden Vamps getting lucky. So here is  the list of the top 10 worst things he could say.

Between today and the 18th at midnight, you must leave me a comment with your email address, telling me which one is your favorite (or give me one of your own). I will pick 10 winners to get a free book of your choice: Book 1, Honeymoon Bite or Book 2 Mortal Bite. One lucky winner will win a poster signed by Jimmy Thomas himself! Although the grand swag prize is not international, I will send the poster ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD!! Yes, I love my international fans! I sent a poster to Latvia last blog hop.

Here's my top 10 list of what a Golden Vamp should never say if he wants to get lucky:

10.   You're a real dine and ditch, sweetheart.

9.     You taste a little “gamey”– are you vegetarian?
8.     I don't eat red meat.
7.     You taste older than you look.
6.     Maybe you should cut back on the garlic fries.
5.     For being 400 years old, you're rather yummy.
4.     Where's the beef?
3.     Are you free range?
2.     Stop shaking or I'll make a mess.

And the #1 thing he DEFINITELY should never say:

1.     I'll take mine neat and frightened, but not scrambled.

Don't forget to leave your email address if you want to be entered in the drawing.

Go to the other sites for more chances to win prizes and a chance at the grand prize by clicking here.  Good Luck!!

Watch Mortal Bite book trailer.