an excerpt

Gideon Borg had been prowling the elite and upwardly mobile establishments of the current metropolitan city he was living in looking for a source of fresh food and a bit of sport for the evening. He found both in the form of a young woman in a dark, crowded bar called ‘The Tequila Cantina'.

The twenty-something woman was brash and bold, blocking Borg's path as he sauntered through the self-absorbed crowd of partyers. She pressed her warm body against him, running questing, red-tipped fingers intimately over parts of his body only the presence of deep, smoky shadows made acceptable in public.

Of course, Borg had taken advantage of her implied offer. He loved it when they came to him, demanding attention and seeking pleasure, and destined to pay for it all with their unsuspecting lives.

She called herself Claire. Raven-haired and plain looking, Gideon guessed Claire was drunk and high on a bizarre cocktail of several of the latest designer drugs. It made her brash enough to play at being the teasing temptress, unwittingly choosing the ultimate in seducers.

Unconcerned by the mind-bending chemicals he smelled in her system, the vampire lured an oh-so-willing Claire to the darkest corner of the crowded room. There he teased and played until she was drunk on sensation as well, then he drank his fill from her blindly offered neck, his deadly intentions disguised to passersby as a lover's passionate embrace. Undoubtedly, they all thought Claire was getting lucky.

Poor Claire.

Her blood -- young, fresh and filled with the adrenaline rush of illicit excitement -- flooded Gideon's senses with delight. He lingered over the kill, draining every available ounce of nourishment from her, savoring the burst of terror that came at the last moment of her excessively indulged life.

Excess, how Gideon loved excess.

Drawing back from her limp body, Gideon noticed the room's colors brightened and the intensity of the smells and sounds peaked at a level of crispness he had never experienced before. He found himself overcome with the immediate urge for more -- more blood, more thrills, and more of an outlet for his now raging lusts.

It was an easy matter to let the woman's limp body crumple to the waiting stool braced against the corner wall. He folded her death-heavy arms on the small, dirty table and draped her long hair over the drying neck wounds. No one watched, no one cared, the drugged and drunken surrounding clientèle's sole focus on seeking his or her own pleasures.

Aware things were not as they should be even for a vampire, Gideon laughed, pleased with the new sensations and thrilled that after three thousand years he could still be surprised. He walked away from the young woman with the casual, light step of a man looking forward to new pleasures.