Josie nodded. “Combined with the influence of the approaching full moon. I will be fine. I’m sure of it. My memories as Miranda are strong. I know this will work.”
He grasped her body, lifting her away from the wall. Then he spun and with one arm swept the paintings from the bed, he gently placed her on the mattress. He settled himself back into her willing arms. Taking his right arm, he bit into his wrist, piercing through the flesh to allow blood to gather in the wound. Then he offered it to her.
Josie took his arm, cradling it to her mouth and sucked at his wound.
Her warm lips on his skin, sipping his blood sent a torrent of passion and heat through his limbs to settle into his groin. He buried his cock within her again, rocking his hips fiercely. As he listened to the soft suckling noises of her feeding from him, she wrapped her legs around his hips urging him to move faster.
She whimpered. She moaned. She pressed her fingernails deep, clamping his wrist to his mouth.
And then her passage tightened on his cock, throbbing against him, massaging him, milking him, squeezing him and he spilled his seed, his soul, his love into her. He’d never felt such an orgasm. Such release. Such completeness. As if a part of him had been lost for so long and now it was found.
He drank from her again as she lay lethargic in his embrace. Her sighs of satisfaction echoed lovingly in his ears as he sipped from the wound on her neck. He took his fill this time, knowing he’d need to drain her near death before the magic of turning a human into vampire could take effect.
When he felt her heartbeat slow, her eyes fluttered closed. He cradled her in his arms, listening to her breathe as she rested her head on his chest. Soon, her breathing stopped. Her beating heart faded to silence.
He held his breath, waiting for her to come back to him as an immortal. Eager to spend eternity with her at his side. But she didn’t take a breath. Her eyes did not open.
After a long moment, his dead heart shattered into broken pieces again. She was gone. He’d done it wrong. He hadn’t turned her, after all.
He wrapped his arms tightly around her, clinging to her as tears fell from his cheeks, dripping onto her cooling skin.
The soft songs of carolers drifted through the window. The gentle melody of Christmas songs filled with hope and prayer lifted his chin. He prayed then, something he hadn’t done in centuries. The spirit of Christmas, the blessings of love and friendship, gifts given to those precious few filled his heart.
After all this time, he’d had another precious moment with Miranda. And not as Miranda had been, but as he believed Miranda could be. Loving, giving, full of joy and happiness, light and life. The Miranda he had dreamed of for so long, the one he yearned for all those lonely nights. The one he loved more than life. One more night in his lover’s arms. It was a gift he’d never thought he’d receive, and he was grateful for the rare blessing.
He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall unencumbered. Letting grief and gratitude swirl within his heart. Knowing he’d need to take the memory of this night with him, keep it to sustain him in the years ahead.
Then her body shuddered. Convulsed.
She took a deep, ragged breath and her eyes blinked opened.
He gasped, his arms clutching her closely, his eyes unable to register her gentle smile.
“Antonio,” she whispered, her lips curving into a sweet smile. “You’re not alone anymore.” Her hand lifted to his face, wiping away the tears.
Relief flooded him, his heart pounding with her freshly given blood. He grinned.
“What shall I call you, my love? Miranda?” He caressed her cheek, enjoying the sensation of her soft skin against his.
She lifted her head to gaze lovingly into his eyes.
“No,” she said, gently. “I was Miranda. I’ll always remember my life as her. But Miranda died because of the choices she made. I’m different. I’ll never be like her. I think I’ll stick with Josie.”
“My Josephine,” Antonio whispered. “I’m eager to show you the world. We’ll travel it together, you and I.”
“Merry Christmas, Antonio,” Josie said as the voices of carolers rose from the street once more. “You’ve given me the greatest Christmas present I’ve ever received. A chance to live.”
“No, my love,” Antonio said. “Your gift to me is most precious. You’ve given me a second chance to love. There is no greater gift than that.”
Josie laughed. The light tinkling sound unchanged now that she was vampire. “We share the greatest gifts to enjoy together forever.”
Then she pulled him close for another kiss.
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The End
Enjoyed Antonio and Josie’s story? Be sure to leave a review! Love vampires? You can read The Witch and the Vampire, a paranormal romance in The Merriweather Witches Series. And don’t forget to grab your FREE copy of Night of the Full Moon, a stand-alone steamy short story paranormal romance!
About the Author
Tricia Schneider is a multi-genre romance author. From werewolves, vampires and witches to wicked pirates and sexy aliens, she weaves sensual stories where happily-ever-after is a guarantee. She believes there is a book for everyone. A sentiment she gained after years of working as Assistant Manager and bookseller at Waldenbooks. After the store closed, she turned to writing full-time, publishing paranormal, historical, fantasy, sci-fi and gothic romances.
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Tricia lives in Pennsylvania with her four children and two rescued cats, Harley and Cassius. When she’s not typing away on her laptop, she’s riding shotgun in a ’67 Impala while keeping her eyes open for a madman in a Big Blue Box.
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http://www.TriciaSchneider.com
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Read More of Tricia’s Books
The Merriweather Witches
The Witch and the Wolf
The Witch and the Vampire
The Witch’s Thief
The Witch’s Kiss
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Cougar Shifters
Loving Boone
Tempting Benjamin
Claiming Cody
The Pirate’s Lady
Ice Princess
The Mermaid
Her Haunted Valentine
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Anthologies & Collections
Pirates: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology
A Wink and a Smile Anthology
A Kiss and a Promise Anthology
Stolen and Seduced
Captured and Captivated
Falling for Shifters
A Cursed All Hallows’ Eve
Winter Kiss
A Very Alien Christmas
Alien Embrace
A Crimson Christmas
Tameri Etherton
About A Crimson Christmas
An innocent duke, a worldly queen with a secret.
Christmas at Hampton Court is as glittering and enchanting as Rox always imagined, but darkness stalks his every move. Assassins hide in plain sight and vampires walk the halls during daylight. His days of being the innocent spare son meant for the priesthood are over. The queen of England has chosen him as her current favorite and he’ll do anything to please his queen. Even if it means losing his heart to a woman know the world over as the Virgin Queen.
Being the queen’s favorite doesn’t come with a written tutorial, and so it’s up to Rox to figure it out as he goes. The only problem? His queen isn’t as virginal as she likes the world to believe.
When one of the queen’s favorites goes missing, Rox takes it upon himself to find her. What he discovers will change the course of his life, and the monarchy forever.
Can this handsome young noble survive?
Or will he succumb to the perils of Elizabethan England?
Join Rox on this seductive, sexy, saucy romp through the Twelve Days of Christmas. Be careful of the dark-haired beauty—she bites.
Crimson Christmas
Hampton Court, Christmas Eve 1602
Trumpeters announced the arrival of the queen, and Charles Henry William, Duke of Roxburghe, maintained a bored expression that even Her Majesty would envy. It was uncouth for aristocrats to appear too excited or even a little giddy for the Christmas season. But inside, where the queen couldn’t control his expressions, he was a bubbly mess of elation.
Thousands of candles lit the vast space and greenery bedecked every wall. Ivy and holly swags were carefully draped over tapestries, with more boughs hung beside the doorways. In the center of the room, a great fire burned brightly, awaiting the yule log that would be brought in at the end of the night. Tables were laden with food, the wooden tops groaning beneath the weight of gooses and hares, of trenchers thick with sauce. Silver goblets filled with beer were gripped between fat fingers adorned with gems of every color. This was a display of wealth and overindulgence. Rox breathed in the heady scents of cloves and oranges, followed by the fruity spice of mulled wine. He imprinted the smells in his heart to always remember this moment.
It wasn’t his first Christmas at court, but as the queen’s current favorite, it was his first entering the great hall on her arm. She smiled genially to the gathered nobles, giving a saucy wink to more than one of her past favorites. Rox wouldn’t allow himself to feel jealousy for the poor sods because one day, he’d be part of their brotherhood. Those chosen men—all young and dashingly handsome—loved by the queen for a season or a decade, but ultimately traded in for a younger model.
Several of the men glowered at Rox, but he ignored them. The only opinion that mattered to him was his queen’s. Everyone else could go fuck themselves.
“Now Roxy, darling,” the queen whispered as they strolled through the center of the room to the raised dais at the other end. “I want you to dance with several of the ladies tonight, but only after you’ve danced half a dozen turns with me. Is this understood? Oh, and be wary of that fetching blonde over there.”
Elizabeth’s eyes darted to a pretty woman who stood apart from the other courtiers. Elizabeth. How fortunate he was that he could call his queen by her given name. Only in private, though. If he ever so much as uttered a syllable in public, he would be stripped of his title and shipped off to Scotland. Or so his Elizabeth threatened. Rox chose to believe she jested, especially about Scotland.
“Why must I be wary of her, ma’am?”
“Because she is my lady. Think of her as a sort of bodyguard. If you misbehave, she’s been instructed to make your death look like an accident.”
Scotland didn’t look so bad anymore.
“I vow my loyalty to you, my queen. I would never misbehave.”
Elizabeth chuckled and waved to a group of nobles. “Oh, darling Roxy, men always misbehave. It’s what makes them so irresistible. But then, I forgot, you were destined for the church, weren’t you?”
“I was, ma’am. My brother and then father’s deaths were quite a shock, I assure you.”
“Mmmmmhmmm.”
They took their seats and the queen motioned for the musicians to begin. Jesters raced to the center of the room and a din of voices rose with the courtiers scrambling to grab the best seats where Elizabeth might see them and call on them to speak. He’d been able to avoid that mess, fortunately. His father had been part of the queen’s privy council and that afforded Rox advantages that lesser nobles were denied. Like being the queen’s favorite at only twenty years of age. He was the youngest in a decade and wore the mantle with pride.
Not only was this his first Christmas in the honored position, it was his first time at court with a title. With the untimely passing of his elder brother and father less than a month earlier, Rox became heir to the dukedom and that, he suspected more than anything, brought him to the attention of the queen.
Also too, it brought no small amount of speculation that their deaths weren’t caused by fever, but more Machiavellian means. It was his duty to prove worthy of the title as well as his position as the queen’s favorite. A duty he relished, despite feeling woefully unprepared.
He wasn’t complaining, but there wasn’t a tutor to tell him how to be a good favorite. “Take care of the queen’s desires, no matter the whim,” was all anyone would tell him. Either that, or his surreptitious questions were met with winks and snickers, neither of which were helpful.
“Who is the lady with onyx hair just there, and why does she stare at you?” Rox motioned to a gorgeous creature who stood at the far end of the hall.
Dressed in a deep-black gown that showed off her nearly translucent skin, the only ornamentation she wore was a scarlet velvet choker with two oval diamonds and a swag of obsidian stones. Her piercing gaze unsettled and excited him.
“It is not me she is enamored with, I suspect. There are two women you are forbidden to bed: Honoré, my lethal lady, and Lady Penelope Morecambe, the attractive brunette who has caught your eye.” A sly smile lifted the queen’s artificially stained ruby lips. “Be careful of that one. She bites.”
“I will keep my distance, be assured.”
A thick coating of face paint covered the pockmarks Elizabeth’s illness had left, but Rox still thought her beautiful. His queen. His Gloriana. She was a symbol to the world that women could rule just as well as men, but he knew better than to speak his belief aloud.
Rox chanced a glance to the dark-haired beauty, but she had disappeared from where she’d stood not more than a moment before. He dared not risk searching the room and gaining the queen’s ire, but the mysterious woman quite entranced him. His erection stirred, and he forced himself to concentrate on his queen. There couldn’t be the slightest hint of betrayal or he’d find himself sent packing.
He listened quietly while the queen made small talk with the others at the table, keeping his focus on them, which wasn’t too hard considering their conversation was quite stimulating. It was that, or the queen’s hand that found its way to his crotch and stroked his erection until it was painful against his hose.
“You’ll ride in my sleigh with me tomorrow. We’re going for a ride after church.” Elizabeth said the command for his hearing only, around a ruby and sapphire studded silver goblet filled with spiced wine. “Are you a virgin, Roxy?”
He swallowed a nervous chuckle and gave a quick shake of his head. There was no need to elaborate that his father had taken him to one of London’s best brothels where a not unattractive, but far too brusque woman had shown him how to make love. Rox hadn’t hated it, but it stuck out as an unpleasant memory in an otherwise idyllic childhood. He’d been thirteen at the time, and although he’d certainly learned how to pleasure himself over the years, he’d not ventured to a brothel since.
“No, ma’am. Although I would not consider myself an expert lover by any means, I am always willing to learn.”
Her smile widened, and she pinched the tip of his hardened cock. “I look forward to witnessing your studies.”
What the hell did that mean? Elizabeth was the Virgin Queen. Surely, she didn’t mean she herself would bed him? But if not her, then who? His gaze did travel then, scanning the room for the pretty blonde and the mystery lady.
“Dance with me.” Elizabeth stood suddenly, and he had to adjust himself before following. Her giggle made him think she knew exactly what she was doing.
“You are quite the tease, ma’am,” he whispered as he led her to the center of the room.
“You have no idea, my darling Roxy. But you’ll soon find out. I do hope you don’t disappoint me. It’s been ever so long since I’ve had a favorite as…eager to learn as you.” She spun into the dance steps and he was forced to take the lead.
She did quite vex him. How was he supposed to not misstep when he didn’t know the rules?
As prom
ised, he danced with his queen for half a dozen turns before she released him to dance with the other ladies present. None of them held his attention nor fascination as his Elizabeth did. He was mindful of their flirty glances and giggles, but did not ingratiate himself overmuch to any one of them.
When it was time to bring in the yule log, Elizabeth called him to her side. They stood near the great chair upon which she sat for dinner. Cheers went up when the log was lit and everyone raised a cup in toast to the Master of Revels. He was responsible for planning all the festivities and feasts for the twelve days of Christmas, a task Rox did not envy. Twelve days and nights of near-constant entertainment sounded exhausting.
“Will you see me to my bed?” Elizabeth whispered in his ear.
His heart did a little flip and he nodded, his blood already warming with anticipation. She said her farewells, making loud jests to the Master of Revels that his log was indeed the largest she’d ever seen and was quite impressed with its girth. The court laughed and taunted the poor man, but he took it all in jest, even adding his boisterous howls to the din.
Several of Elizabeth’s ladies-in-waiting trailed behind them as they made their way to the royal bedchamber. Rox surreptitiously wiped his palms on his breeches and dabbed at the sweat that gathered on his upper lip. Anxiety twisted his belly tighter than a wash mistress wrung out sheets.
It was all for naught. At the door to Elizabeth’s rooms, she turned to him and pressed her lips to his cheek.
“Fare thee well tonight, for I shall be eager to see you on the morrow,” she whispered. One of her ladies opened the door, and she winked at him before disappearing into the inner sanctum.
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