Primal Scream Blogfest - Your Most Heart Pumping Scene

Today I'm participating in the Primal Scream Blogfest - Your Most Heart Pumping Scene.

I have a few of those in my stories. :)  Since "Carnal Lust" releases in a few days, my heart pumping scene today is from it.

“Carnal Lust” by Ashley Ladd

To be released May 17, 2010 at http://www.total-e-bound.com/

Blurb:
Kes is obsessed with killing Nikolai – to prevent him from destroying Earth 900 years into the future.


Kes is obsessed with eliminating Nikolai before he's reborn as the evil vampire who destroys Earth and propels her family into the past.

Once she finds the Nikolai of her present is a good and kind man she's not sure she can hold the very sexy human accountable for something he hasn't yet done.


Excerpt:
Nikolai slipped away without the encumbrance of his guard. With single-mindedness, he set out to find out if his dream lover had been more than a figment of the night time.

He could not forget her lustrous touch, her intoxicating kiss nor the wanton way she made love. How could he forget such a lover? None other had elicited such yearnings.

He wanted her with a fervour he knew to be unhealthy but could not vanquish.

Worse, he feared he was fast becoming obsessed with the unearthly beauty. Her kiss was a craving he couldn’t conquer. He feared his eternal soul lie in peril.

He wondered that he wasn’t petrified, that he didn’t turn back, but he was drawn to her as if the siren called to him, as if an invisible chain pulled him.

He could still taste her, was still warmed by her moist folds. Wanting to be buried in her pussy again, his cock bulged uncomfortably in his pants, and he shifted in his saddle trying in vain to find a comfortable position.

A snarl twitched on his lips. The only comfortable position would be deep inside her.

He’d an inkling that was the only place he truly belonged.

Bemused with the direction of his fanciful thoughts, he shook his head. He could not remember the last time he’d been taken with a maiden. Then again, he’d never before laid eyes on one so fair or so fascinating.

He wondered why she’d been so menacing. He wondered if she intended to make him her mate for life, or rather, for her undeath. Oh, he’d heard some of the stories. He wasn’t deaf.

Before laying eyes on her, he’d thought her kind to be fiendish, an undesirable species spawned of Satan to be left alone lest they unleash their fury.

Was that what was happening now? Had something happened to loose their bloodlust? If so, why had the other one stopped her? Why had they only come after him?

He could not come up with a good reason, but he was determined to unravel the mystery and find the woman of his inexplicable dreams.

When he arrived at the boundary of his property, he tied Kelvyn to a sturdy tree and crept forward on foot, keeping low to the grounds and staying in the shadows. When he reached the village, he wondered why he’d bothered. Except for a few animals, the town was forsaken. Not a soul wandered the streets, not a person inhabited the shops. Not even the breeze stirred.

He was surprised to find a quaint community of honey-coloured limestone with a network of footpaths between houses and the village green. Unlike most villages of his acquaintances there was no inn, church, stable or farmer’s market was in sight. Nor did he spot a graveyard or as much as a single grave. He wondered where the populace traded their food, where they buried their dead and how they got around.

He peeked inside a window, but it was blacked out, and he could see nothing. He tried a door, but it was locked. Starting to feel as if his mission had been in vain, he ran his fingers through his hair and muttered under his breath. Where were all the townspeople? Had they abandoned the village and if so, why? Had a plague swept through? Or were they gypsies who got the wanderlust?

Were the legends right? Did the inhabitants only come out at night? Spooked, he found a hiding place within a grove of trees, hunkered down and waited for the moon to push through the clouds.

He wasn’t disappointed. Once the moon had marshalled the sun out of the sky, the town awoke. People emerged and moved about silently and purposefully.

They were a strange bunch, wearing strange garb. Most of the women wore their hair shorn short and were dressed in masculine gear. When a man strolled by close, Nikolai held his breath.

Dread filled him as the man stopped, turned then ventured closer. One of the gossips claimed the inhabitants of this town could smell blood while still inside the body, that they could hear beating hearts. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop his heart from hammering. It sped faster, beat harder and pounded like drums in his ears. Silently, he cursed himself for his fear. The man could probably smell that, too. Instinctively, Nikolai knew they would hear him if he moved, and they would catch him if he ran.

He huddled smaller and did his best not to move or breathe, hoping the man would pass by.

But the man paused, sniffed the air and scowled. Then he turned and peered into the grove as if he could see straight into his soul. “Sire, you diseased bull’s pizzle. I smell your vile stench. I know you’re in there,” the man muttered in a humming intonation.

“Sire?” Nikolai didn’t see anyone else. They were alone unless someone was invisible or he spoke to some other form of life.

The man, a formidable looking opponent with a furrowed brow and shoulders broad as the finest knight’s stepped into the grove. Sharp, pointy teeth protruded from his lips. His eyes emanated with such heat they glowed red and bore into him.

Nikolai’s pulse raced, and his feet itched to flee. His heart was about to explode from his chest, and he leapt up to run.

With leonine grace, the other man pounced on him and pinned him to the ground. “What are you doing here?’

Rocks and twigs stabbed him in the back, all the more sharp with the man’s weight pressing him hard into the earth’s floor. Nikolai knew it would be suicide to admit he looked for the beautiful young maiden. “I lost my way, and since I didn’t see an inn or anything open, I thought I would bed in here for the night.”

“You lie, Nikolai. I know you too well.” The man let out a hiss as he wrapped his hands around Nikolai’s throat and squeezed suggestively.

Stunned, Nikolai gaped at his attacker. “How do you know my name?” This wasn’t one of his serfs or another feudal lord. He experienced not a scrap of recognition.

The man’s breath scorched Nikolai’s face as he bent close enough Nikolai could smell his breath, could feel him quake with fury. “You made me what I am. Then you tried to kill me—several times. You thought you’d succeeded, but surprise. Here I am.”

Nikolai frowned and blinked. “Forsooth? Did we meet in battle?”

“Many times, my old friend.”

‘Friend’ was pronounced with a sarcastic lilt that scraped along Nikolai’s nerves and made his gut coil tighter.

“Then I would remember, but I do not. You must have me mistaken.”

“I would never mistake my sire for another. I know your face better than my own. Your scent calls me, sickens me.”

Nikolai wondered why, if the man was so feral, so angry, he didn’t put an end to him. “What do you mean I made you what you are? Then I tried to kill you? Why do you call me sire?”

The vampire moved in closer and touched his fangs to Nikolai’s throat but didn’t puncture his skin. However, he put slight, menacing pressure on his neck. A low growl arose from deep in his throat.

“You made me into what I am, this monster that stands before you.”


* Be sure to check out the other blogfest participants today here.


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