Remembering Ravensclaw

My tongue-in-cheek Regency vampire trilogy has been receiving some attention, thanks to my backlist publisher (I can’t say enough good things about them) Belgrave House/Regency Reads. Consequently I’ve been taking a little stroll down memory lane.

Writing those books was a challenge. I was working without rules. One can hardly ask one’s neighborhood paranormal critters what, in a given situation, they would do.

Here’s an excerpt from Ravensclaw, which was originally published by Kensington as (ack!) Waltz with a Vampire:


His voice was smoky, dark, seductive, with the faintest trace of an accent. Emily attempted to collect her scattered wits. “Count Revay-Czobar?”

“Call me Ravensclaw,” he said. “It’s easier on the tongue.”

If here was no graying skin or deathlike pallor, no stink of putrefying flesh—‘Ravensclaw’ looked to be no more than five-and-thirty—the Count was definitely preternatural. No mere mortal could be so magnificent. Emily was grateful for her umbrella’s sharpened tip.

The sensuous lips curved. Ravensclaw’s gaze caressed her face, skimmed her forehead, the slope of her cheek; kissed the tip of her nose; lingered on her lips; nuzzled an earlobe.

Emily’s knees trembled. Sweat popped out on her brow. Ravensclaw reached out one graceful finger and pushed Emily’s glasses back up to the bridge of her nose.

The Count was toying with her as if he were a cat and she a witless rodent. Emily elevated her umbrella and poked him in the chest. “I would prefer that you keep your hands — and your thoughts — to yourself, my lord.”

“Would you, indeed?” he asked softly. On the hearth, the wolf-dog stirred.

Emily took a firmer grip on her umbrella. She had no desire to skewer her host, but neither was she eager to make the intimate acquaintance of a vampire’s fangs. Rather, she didn’t think she was. At least, not yet. She did have a certain curiosity—

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you,” murmured the Count. And then, without the slightest hint of fangs, he smiled. It was a roguish captivating smile that said ‘you’re the most delicious thing I’ve seen in a long time and I’m going to gobble you up slowly and savor every nibble’ as clearly as if he’d spoken aloud.

Emily blinked. Ravensclaw must surely be the most irresistibly, wickedly beautiful being ever put on God’s green earth.

In whatever century that had been.

And she was staring at him like a smitten schoolgirl.

Oh, bloody hell.


It’s nice to be reminded of how much I enjoyed Emily and Val.

vamp trilogy finalThe Edinburgh Vampires

Published in: on October 17, 2018 at 2:57 pm  Leave a Comment  

The URI to TrackBack this entry is:

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: