La Luxure: Discover Your Blood Lust
Read La Luxure: Discover Your Blood Lust Online
Authors: CD Hussey
Tags: #new orleans, #romantica, #vampire romance, #vampire series, #sanguinarian, #real vampire, #vampire romantica
Discover Your Blood Lust
By C.D. Hussey
* * *
Copyright (c) 2011 C.D. Hussey
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. This ebook may not be reproduced
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author.
Cover art by C.D. Hussey and Sean McCue
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all the friends who
patiently listened to my endless rambling while writing
La
Luxure
. I'd also like to send out a huge thank you to the
friends and fans who helped me edit and polish the novel. Your
support is truly appreciated.
Table of
Contents
Chapter One
To avoid taking another nerve-racking glance
at the fragile wings and whizzing engine just behind her head,
Julia slid the window shade shut and leaned back in her seat,
closing her eyes and focusing on breathing deeply.
God, she hated flying. Statistics and
understanding the physics behind
lift
didn't help, either.
Only with sheer force of will and a heaping of logic was she able
to keep from screaming in terror. She should have brought some
Xanax.
She didn't used to be such a pansy when it
came to the safest form of traveling. It wasn't until she turned 29
this year that her own mortality started beating on her door. Now
whenever she boarded a plane, morbid images of scattered limbs and
smoldering carcasses tangled in twisted, metal wreckage sped
through her mind.
Fortunately, besides her sister Clare and
cat, Beelzebub (affectionately referred to as Bubbers), Julia
didn't have anyone that would miss her if she met an untimely death
in some Mississippi field. What a blubbering wreck she'd be if she
actually had children or a husband to worry about.
One of the few reasons to be thankful she was
still single.
Not that Julia was desperate to be married or
popping out babies, but it would be nice to be in a relationship
with a guy that lasted longer than 6 months. Hell, it'd be nice to
find a man she could actually
envision
being in a long-term
relationship with.
Was it wrong to want to experience those
first few amazing months of a new relationship everyone was always
talking about? The kind where you get butterflies around the other
person, all their jokes are funny, and you fuck like rabbits. She
wasn't looking for 50 years of butterflies and endless rabbit
fucking, but was three months too much to ask? A week? A one-night
stand?
And it wasn't like she didn't constantly meet
men. Julia was a civil engineer for the City of Alton in Illinois,
about 45 minutes north of St. Louis. She was always around men.
Most were just lacking...something.
On paper, her last boyfriend Jeff had been
great. A consultant engineer with Hughes & Ralston in St.
Louis, he was good looking, okay in bed, and not super picky or
controlling like a lot of engineers could be. Nor was he socially
inept. It just wasn't there. For her.
"It's because you read all those stupid
romance novels," Clare had said once. "Your expectations are all
skewed."
Maybe Clare was on to something. Lately,
nothing in Julia's life felt right. It didn't make any sense. She
had a good job and a nice apartment. The guys she dated were
usually decent looking and successful. Yet, she was never quite
satisfied. Maybe she did read too much or expect all the wrong
things. Maybe she was just too picky.
She picked up her latest read and glanced at
the description on the back.
New Orleans Blood Lust
After a tragic fire kills her entire family
and destroys her plantation home, Marguerite LaFleur moves to
steamy New Orleans to live with her spinster Aunt. When she meets
the dark and mysterious Blaise Carmichael, she is torn between a
lust that could save her tattered heart and a fear she might be his
next meal.
Normally, Julia liked her romance novels a
little edgier, with leather clad, tattooed vampires that had drug
problems, or were once sex slaves. The occasional werewolf was
nice, or angst-y warlock, or even a tormented, sorcerer werewolf.
She'd put away the historical novels years ago in favor of darker,
rawer, urban fantasies.
Still, this book seemed appropriate,
considering she
was
traveling to New Orleans. Of course, she
was going for a conference on "Emergency Utility Management During
Manmade or Natural Catastrophes", not because her plantation had
burnt down.
Sometimes, Julia wondered what drew her to
the paranormal. Unlike Clare, who sported crazy hair colors,
multiple tattoos, and numerous piercings, Julia was completely
normal. She was the girl next door really, with straight brown hair
that floated somewhere between her armpits and bra strap, plain
brown eyes, and innocent looking face. She couldn't understand why
"normal" life didn't seem to suit her.
The plane lurched and Julia's heart went with
it. The fasten seatbelt sign dinged and the muffled, nasally
warning of turbulence piped over the intercom. After cranking down
the seatbelt until it cut into her flesh, Julia pried open her
book. Something had to take her mind off this wretched form of
travel, and the promise of a hot vampire and maybe even some hot
vampire sex was just the distraction she needed.
As soon as her plane had all three of its
knobby little tires on the runway and was safely taxiing to the
terminal, Julia powered up her cell phone and called her sister.
She was preparing to leave a message when Clare unexpectedly
answered.
"Hey," Clare said breathlessly.
"I'm here."
Pause. "Great," Clare panted. The sound of
rustling fabric sounded faintly in the earpiece.
Clare was either having sex or running a
marathon.
"Um..." Julia wasn't quite sure what to
say.
"Hey...sis...can I...call you later?"
Clare was having sex! Geez, it wasn't such an
important call that she needed to take it. Julia hoped like hell
the next time she was physically involved with a man it was so
amazing that she wouldn't even hear the phone ring.
"Yeah, of course," Julia said, not waiting
for her sister's reply before clicking the phone shut. She was
surprised at the level of irritation she felt, since answering the
phone during intercourse, or even placing a call during sex wasn't
out of character for Clare.
It was just as well that she avoided an
involved conversation. The plane had pulled up to the terminal and
passengers were reaching impatiently for suitcases and shoving
their way towards the exit. Unless she wanted to risk getting
clobbered by another harried traveler, attempting to talk on the
phone while trying to retrieve her carry-on was probably a bad
idea.
The Louis Armstrong International Airport in
New Orleans was small and easy to negotiate. Within 20 minutes,
Julia had her luggage and was in a cab heading to her hotel in the
French Quarter. She'd opted out of staying at the conference hotel,
instead choosing a smaller, more intimate inn not far from Bourbon
St. It looked to be a short walk to the conference, and Julia was
looking forward to ditching her car for a week. Life in the Midwest
rarely allowed one to abandon their carbon burping wheeled monster.
It would be a refreshing change.
The city wasn't quite what she expected. Like
any good tourist, Julia had thoroughly researched New Orleans
before getting on the plane. But the mismatched buildings and flat,
sprawling, suburban landscape didn't look anything like the
brochure. No iron balconies or hanging ferns or mule-drawn
carriages or 18th century charm. Most of the buildings looked like
they were built in the 70's or sooner. She did spot a couple of
above ground cemeteries, and scanned them eagerly as the cab sped
by. Visiting one of the famous cemeteries was on her tourist "to
do" list.
It wasn't until the cab pulled off the
highway that the scenery changed into something from her Internet
searches. Her face pressed eagerly against the dirt-streaked window
as the cab wove its way down narrow streets. She loved it. From the
colorful homes with numerous balconies and shuttered windows, to
the gas lanterns that lined the streets, it felt like coming
home.
All the trepidation about traveling eased
from her system and she felt excited about her weeklong stay in New
Orleans for the first time since her boss had told her about it.
She had an epiphany right there in the back of the smelly cab.
There was something here that beckoned her, a promise of new and
exciting experiences. It was time to change, time to be someone she
usually was not.
She vowed to use this trip to break away from
her comfort zone and be spontaneous for once.
* * *
From the lobby, Hotel Conti-Royal looked
nice, with tall ceilings, intricate wood trimmed doorways, and
floor to ceiling silk drapes. Her coworkers had warned her that
anything deep in the Quarter, except maybe the huge chain hotels
that Julia had very little desire to visit, was going to be
disgusting. She could stay in a Marriott anywhere. She was only
going to be in New Orleans for five days and wanted to
really
experience the city.
The concierge was pleasant, if not a bit
brusque, and after a quick scan of her company credit card, Julia
had her key and was headed for the room she would call home for the
next week.
The elevator wasn't quite as nice.
Planes weren't the only things that made
Julia nervous. She wasn't especially fond of elevators, either.
Something about being trapped in a tiny, metal compartment that
relied on spindly, metal strings to keep her from plummeting to her
death didn't sit well with her. This one was especially unnerving
as it heaved and groaned its way to the 4th floor. With an
exhausted jerk, it finally stopped, and she determined to find the
stairs next time.
There was a bleach stain on the carpet, and
pieces of the Queen Anne headboard were broken off, but her small,
quaint room seemed clean enough. A screen-less window overlooked a
brick courtyard housing a small pool and gurgling fountain that
looked very relaxing. It was a little chilly outside, but not too
bad. Maybe later, she'd grab a drink and read some more of her book
down there.
Marguerite
had just buried her family and was en
route to her Aunt's New Orleans home. If this book followed any
kind of standard formula, it wouldn't be long until
Blaise
Carmichael
showed up, and Julia was anxious to meet the
heroine's vampire love interest.
Julia glanced around the room, unsure what to
do next. She could unpack her suitcase and actually use the dresser
for more than just a place to toss her purse and lipstick. She
could watch TV. Or...she could read a little more. A couple
chapters wouldn't hurt anything.
Plopping on an oversized chair nestled in the
corner across from a large, wooden desk, she cracked open her book.
She sped through one chapter before her grumbling stomach
interrupted. As she reached for the hotel menu, a wave of disgust
suddenly washed over her.
She was in the French Quarter, in New
Orleans, and she was going to order room service while reading some
romance novel? It wasn't exactly the adventure she had in mind when
making her vow on the cab ride here.
