Charlemagne

Faizel 02

Faizel 02

Author: Harper Kingsley

Genre: mm. urban fantasy. vampires. realistic magic society.

Where to find it: Smashwords or Amazon at the moment. OverDrive, Scribd etc. in the future.

Faizel is settling into his new life with Charlemagne. They’re living in an out of the way apartment that only Charlemagne’s friend Ewing knows about and Faizel is keeping his head down as he learns about this similar-but-different Earth.

It contains some NSFW scenes because of vampires and sex and Faizel’s demonic heritage.

Excerpt of Chapter One:

Sometimes Ewing wondered if they had invited a devil into their midst. Because there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Charlemagne was possessed. And the devil’s name was Faizel. Charlemagne’s darling love. The mysterious vampire that had appeared from nowhere to steal Charlemagne’s heart and rearrange the natural order of the world.

Ewing thought of Faizel as a booty call gone wrong, though he would never say it aloud. He valued his life too much.

Charlemagne wanted to keep Faizel secret, and Ewing was willing to go along with it. Because honestly, how could he even explain someone like Faizel? The guy scared the ever living fuck out of him, and that was no lie.

“Are you certain this is how you want to do things?” Deacon asked in her “I’m a complete hard as nails Law Officer” voice.

Ewing fought to keep still where he knelt on the hardwood floor along with the other low level vampires. It was pretty boring, but he wasn’t one to battle the status quo. He didn’t want to be tortured and killed.

Prince Lucian had summoned Isadore, which had forced them to go with her. They were ornaments meant to display her level of awesome to the rest of the Lords and Ladies, who had brought their own Courts. They were each showing off how powerful and bad ass they were, which meant uncomfortable outfits and unnatural poses for their followers.

It was a revelation to look across the banquet hall and see the other retinues; some of those guys had it really rough. Ewing only had to wear old fashioned clothes and serve imaginary tea. It didn’t seem so bad in comparison to what those other schlubs had to put up with. He didn’t even know what was up with the guy with the weird metal clamps on his face or the chick with the fish hooks through her nipples.

Seeing that everyone was focused on the drama unfolding in the middle of the room, he risked stretching his back and cracking his neck. He even dared to lick his dry lips a minute later before getting back to his frozen position.

Back when he’d been human he’d fantasized about what it would be like when he was Turned. He’d imagined lounging around wearing cool clothes. He’d imagined driving fancy cars and owning the city and everyone in it. Instead, he dressed like a complete hose-bag and catered to a woman that made his testicles shrivel. She was hot, with long waves of inky black hair and eyes that seemed to be permanently rimmed with heavy black kohl. She was also hardcore pathetic, though she expected them to do whatever she wanted.

He’d thought being a vampire would mean freedom. Instead he’d been forced into the life of some old lady’s permanent bitch-boy. His place in the Hierarchy was so low he didn’t even get to sit in a chair–he spent his time kneeling with his palms to the floor.

He wasn’t jealous of Charlemagne’s higher rank though. That guy was in a much worse position: he had to sleep with the old broad whenever she wanted. Isadore was sexy, but Ewing had no desire for her. Which probably explained why he was kneeling on the floor rather than standing behind her throne-chair all mannequin-faced like Charlemagne.

Stuff was getting loud and there were angry words being said. Law Officer Jenny Deacon was looking for a missing girl. She had requested that Prince Lucian gather all the master vampires in the city for questioning. She seemed to think the girl was in an Enclave somewhere. And of course all the vampires knew which one because none of them could keep a secret.

Ewing had never realized Deacon was so arrogant. Storming the Prince’s Citadel and demanding answers as though Lucian were a peasant. She was lucky Prince Lucian had the hots for her, because Law Officer or not, he would have torn her apart if she were anyone else. Ewing had heard the stories. But she was so raw to the job that she thought she could take on a Prince.

Charlemagne thought she was an idiot, and Ewing couldn’t help agreeing.

Ewing risked a peek to his right, and there that expression was on Charlemagne’s face. He had to muffle a snort. Most people would have thought Charlemagne’s face was blank, but Ewing knew the guy better. There was an extra bit of arch to Charlemagne’s brows and a smoldering flame in the back of his eyes. He was holding back a sneer through sheer force of will.

Charlemagne played his role perfectly, but Ewing knew how much he hated to have his time wasted. He had to put up with it from Isadore, but Deacon was only human. Charlemagne would never be indecorous enough to step out of line in public, but Ewing could tell he wanted to.

From the minute he Woke for the first time as a lesser vampire, Ewing had known the best he could hope for was being a master’s lackey. His place in the Hierarchy had been set by his biology and there was nothing he could do to change it. Charlemagne though, he was one of the lucky ones. He was of the master class and Ewing had never seen him hit his limit. He was strong enough that Ewing wondered why he took orders from masters that were obviously inferior. Yet Charlemagne would just bow his head and do as he was told. It was weird.

There was a loud crash and a load of screeching and Ewing found himself caught up in the show. The boring posturing was over and it was time for some action. He was reluctantly entertained.

The nobles had broken up into various cliques encircling the room, leaving the main floor open. The first time Ewing had seen it happen, he’d felt like he was back in high school being herded into the gym.

Isadore was next to Felix, as he was her Patron. They sat atop large throne chairs with their personal entourages around them. The lower level vampires were arranged in neat rows bracing the thrones, Isadore’s followers to the left and Felix’ to the right.

Ewing was supposed to keep his head facing forward, but that didn’t keep his eyes from moving. Being near the end of his row gave him a clear field of view of most of the room. He just had to be careful not to catch the eye of any of his “betters.” He wasn’t fond of punishment.

Deacon was standing facing Prince Lucian with one gloved hand knotted in the hair of a vampire man, her gun pointed at the side of his head. “Are you gonna try anything stupid when I pop this guy?”

There was an amused lift to Prince Lucian’s lips. “You may do as you wish. You are the Law. It is your job to punish him, is it not?”

“Good. As long as you remember that, I won’t have to come for you next time.” There was a slight ripple of outrage through the room; she had dared threaten their Prince.

Lucian’s laughter was a rich, touchable thing. “You are bold,” he said, like it was a good thing and not something that regularly got people killed. Ewing wondered if Deacon knew how much the Prince indulged her and how rare that was. Probably not. People like Deacon usually took adoration as their due.

“You are bold, Jenny Deacon, like a well-honed blade.” Prince Lucian waved his hand. “Take him as you like, my gift to you.”

Her snort of derision wasn’t exactly subtle, but Ewing didn’t think she cared. She had been disrespectful before and the Prince had never said anything about it, so now she acted as though it were her due.

That was a stupid kind of ballsy right there, but from what little Ewing knew of Jenny Deacon, she wasn’t the kind of person to ever back down. She was the lunge-lunge-lunge forward kind of person that always thought she was going to come out safe on the other side. She didn’t realize she was jamming herself headfirst into a meat grinder, and Prince Lucian controlled the crank.

“Who’s that guy?” Ewing asked out of the corner of his mouth. He’d never seen that vampire before in his life, and he’d made it his business to know anyone even the least bit important.

Smashwords or Amazon.

Uramichi Oniisan 01 at Amazon

Finally caught up with all my DVR’d episodes of Stalker. Seriously, I am obsessed with the show, pun intended. It’s one of those dramas that you want to catch from the first episode, and it’s a great show for mainlining–binge-watch it, it’ll hit all your taste buttons.

WARNING: There is a bit of a creep factor due to the whole stalking thing, so if you’re easily triggered, it might not be for you. Still, Beth’s backstory keeps me coming back for more. I cannot wait to see what happens next.

*

A cool thing: my dad is talking about putting together an outdoor studio for me. Sure, it will probably be a bit slapped together, because, you know, it’s us, but it’s still a very nice gesture and I find myself a bit excited. There’s a big chance that nothing will come of it, but if he really does follow through…

It will be nice to have somewhere to put together my paper crafts and store my supplies. The biggest drawback of living here is that I’m surrounded by smokers. There are some days when I feel like I’ve rolled around in an ashtray and I can’t help thinking that people can smell me from a mile away.

So to have a place of my own where I can do my work… It will change everything.

I will remain hopeful.

*

Title: Faizel II
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: vampire, mm, urban fantasy, dark fic
Summary: Charlemagne loves Faizel. Faizel is fond of Charlemagne. And Ewing feels like he’s watching a train wreck happen in slow motion.

EXCERPT:

“This is a nice place. You’re not worried someone’s going to find out I’m your dirty little secret?” There was a teasing bite to Faizel’s tone, one that made Ewing fight back a wince.

He’d been around enough couple-fights to recognize the warning signs. The minute someone threw a plate, he was leaving. Charlemagne was his friend, not his boss. Not yet anyway, an inner voice murmured, but he pretended not to hear it.

“I hate that I can’t show you the world as I would wish,” Charlemagne said. “You are what is most important to me. I want the world to know that I love you. But it’s too dangerous. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“I promise you, I won’t be the one hurting,” Faizel said.

Ewing stared at his napkin, pretending to be enthralled by the micro-weave of the linen. Couple-fights were bad enough, but heartfelt romance was almost worse. He wouldn’t have felt as much like an interloper if he was watching them have sex–that was just master vampire exhibitionism. He’d learned how to pretend that he was watching, while really visualizing a play-by-play of his last quest in his favorite RPG.

There was no pretending to be far away when he could hear the emotion in Charlemagne’s voice. He could see that mask of a pleasant expression that Charlemagne wore, but he was also close enough to see the honest love shining in those blue eyes. It hurt to see Charlemagne be so naked, and have the subject of all that emotion be Faizel.

Ewing didn’t trust Faizel not to break Charlemagne just because he could. Yet he couldn’t say anything either, because Charlemagne was in no state of mind to listen. All Ewing could do was alienate his friend, and that wasn’t a direction he wanted things to go.

He’d decided that he would keep an eye on Faizel to make sure he wasn’t hurting Charlemagne. Unless he saw some active abuse, he wasn’t going to step in. No matter how creepy he thought Faizel was.

The best thing that he could do was to bite his tongue. He just worried that he was going to end up biting it clear off. Because while he thought Faizel was a scary vampire-eating monster, Charlemagne would never hear a word against him.

It was a relief when the waiter returned with their food. It gave Ewing something to focus on as he ignored the romantic love story unfolding in front of him. He tried not to imagine that he was watching the true life story of Mickey and Mallory Knox if they happened to be vampires.

My life has gotten strange, he thought, tasting a bright blue foam that exploded with flavor when he touched it to his tongue. But at least the food is good.

/EXCERPT

Curious to meet Faizel? Check out Faizel I on Smashwords or Amazon. It’s $0.99, yo.

Faizel 02 at Amazon

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"Faizel" by Harper KingsleyTitle: Faizel
Author: Harper Kinsgley
Genre: mm supernatural, vampire
Word count: 10,400
Rating: Adult

Available as KDP Select. If you’ve got an Amazon Prime membership, go read it for free.

EXCERPT:

He was a handsome stranger in painted on pants and Chuck Taylors. His dark brown hair curled around his ears in enticing tousled waves. He had rich olive skin and a straight nose with perfect nostrils. He was built in lean lines and looked like he should be an endearingly dorky guy, completely oblivious to his own good looks.

Except he walked like a predator. He tried not to, but his hips insisted on falling into their natural position when he didn’t concentrate. An arrogant, rolling walk that caught and held the eye, luring in his prey.

He’d always been so well-known that he couldn’t have pretended to be anyone other than himself. He was more easily recognizable than the Master. The name FAIZEL was synonymous with power and prestige. He was always near the top of every Most Wanted list the Resistance put out.

He’d always enjoyed playing with the Resistance. Hunting them down and spoiling their plans had been endlessly entertaining. It was why he’d never just completely exterminated them all the way the Master wanted.

The Master was talking synthetic blood and genocide. He had wanted a world completely devoid of normal human life. The Phageless would cease to exist and only the New Breed would remain. He wanted a world of rules and restrictions, a totalitarian empire with himself at the top.

Faizel enjoyed being powerful, but he wanted the thrill of the hunt. He was young and virile and he’d been Reborn without a soul. But he still remembered his human days and all that burning hate and rage was still there, bubbling under the surface of his skin.

He’d killed most of the people that had made his living life so miserable in one wild spree of blood and viscera. After that though… he’d spent enough time around the Master to realize that he didn’t want to live in that sterile, cruel world with only his own kind for company.

He hadn’t been able to stand it.

He had secretly begun to sabotage his own mission plans so there were weaknesses able to be exploited by a clever but desperate human. He’d sifted out the weakest of the Resistance to leave the best behind, separating the wheat from the chaff.

Then he had waited and enjoyed being able to toy with his new playmates. He was going to kill them, but he built them up first before he hunted them down. He loved that sweetest first sip of panicked blood, packed with all of that desperate will to survive. It made his heart sing.

 

He slid through the crowded club to one of the tables at the front. He sat down with such a charming smile that the women already there giggled and gave him flirty welcomes. He smiled but didn’t really interact, just nodding his head here and there when they spoke to him.

Faizel gazed up at the main stage and absorbed the sight of a supernatural cabaret show. It was like Rocky Horror Picture Show with even more garters and lace; there was a bit more skin showing, and both men and women wore short-shorts and a mixture of glitter and glamour.

Dancing and singing men and women, some entirely human while others stretched and bent with supernatural ease. Here and there one of the dancers would flash a mouthful of fangs as they playfully “menaced” their delighted audience. Their faces would twist and turn into a monstrous mask of bulging bone, glaring yellow eyes, and a double row of teeth that were nothing but jagged points.

Money was offered at the end of each set and a pretty girl with flaxen curls and a smattering of glitter on her cheeks went around with a cloth bag to collect the cash. She was wearing a flirty red skirt and a black crop top vest that revealed a toned stomach and a sparkling silver bead dangling at her navel. She wore high-heeled gladiator sandals that crisscrossed up her shins to just below her dimpled knees.

Faizel fumbled in his pocket for a few crumpled bills. He stuck them in the bag quickly so no one could get a good look at them in case money was different here.

Vampires sure were.

He was utterly fascinated by their monstrous faces and the claws he thought he’d spotted amongst them. They were like a mix of human and animal. Even when they weren’t trying to be frightening, their mouths easily shaped snarls.

He was utterly captivated, his eyes trailing up and down the beautiful bodies on display, but what he was really drawn to was the feral nature of them. They were apex predators, of that he had no doubt, though he had to wonder why they were so intent on living amongst the humans, working with them. The idea of it intrigued him.

Faizel had been suppressing his Allure from the minute he’d fallen out of the glowing portal and discovered that he was in a world not his own. The air had smelled different and there was the caressing vapor of distant, strange Power.

His first impulse was to ride in under the radar, to look around for himself and see what kind of world this was. And so far he had been very pleased.

There were vampires here, though a much different kind than he was used to. He could practically see the souls binding them to their bodies, and though their faces turned to those of monsters when they let their Hunger show… they were human on the inside. Beautiful, fragile humans.

He had never seen anything so entrancing. He wondered how hard it was to break them, these dancing, singing, oh-so-human vampires.