The first book as Mandy Greenwood is now available.
Finding His Eden (Silverdale Coven Book One)
I have had a lot of writing Finding His Eden and being able to create my own world. Usually I write stories that exist within the real world, stories shaped not just by the characters own experiences but also by the events of history occuring around them. Creating streetscapes, architecture and folklore is a lot of fun, though I think I spent too much time pondering the distribution of females in a vampire world where the men can become pregnant too… it was something like 3/10ths.
I have planned three stories in the series so far, with the next one being Albie’s story: Fated Lovers, Surprise Baby, and dangerous situtations.
Eden sat at the bar, a pint of lager sitting in front of him untouched as he idly tapped a card on the counter. He’d been there an hour, and no one seemed to be interested in shifting him along. No one seemed interested in him at all and that was strange, staring around at the other customers curiously. Eden never had to work had to get their attention, men enamoured by his porcelain beauty: his almost translucent skin, his bright blue eyes and the darkest of black hair that didn’t go with the rest of him at all. Questions were always asked about it, wanting to know if he wore contacts or dyed his hair. None of them happy with the answers he gave, quickly pointing out that genetics just didn’t work that way; explained it in very simplistic terms that had Eden rolling his eyes. He’d taken high school science and aced it too.
Hell, he’d graduated top of his class. Done it again at university too, allowing him to take his pick of graduate schools. Eden would have happily stayed at the university he’d attended, two major cities over from his home of Silverdale, but the local university was the only one to offer the courses in Cultural Mythology that he wanted to study. Not surprising really considering all the myths, legends and other paranormal tales associated Silverdale. If you believed half the rumours that did the rounds then Silverdale was overrun with vampires, werewolves and other species spoken of in folklore. Eden did not. But he was however interested in why such stories persisted in modern society.
But none of that explained why he was sitting in a bar that thrummed with a dangerous energy; curious eyes that never strayed from his back while waiting for a mysterious stranger. A stranger that had sent Eden the card he tapped against the bar, just like all the other cards that arrived every year on his birthday since he’d turned eighteen. An invite that invoked a level of trust Eden knew he couldn’t have explained to his mates, sneaking out of the house they shared without telling them where he was going or who with, not that he could have given the mysterious stranger a name. Not even the sizeable deposits into his bank account each year gave him any clue as to who the man was and that should have frightened him. Should have scared him into not showing up as the invite requested… yet, Eden wanted to meet them, felt in a way he owed them, when he wouldn’t have been able to afford university without their financial assistance.
Eden just wished the invite had come with more than a time and a place.
Sitting in a bar, alone, was not how he’d intended to spend his birthday. If his mysterious benefactor didn’t make an appearance soon, then Eden would leave; head down to another club where he wouldn’t remain lonely for long. Except, if Eden had been serious about leaving, he wouldn’t have sat here, tapping the card on the bar, for forty-five minutes longer than he’d normally wait. The urge to walk out the door simply wasn’t there.
“Do you plan on drinking that?”
Eden glanced up at the deep voice expecting the question to have come from the bartender, but he was down the far end of the bar talking with customers. Turning sideways, he stared at the man sitting on the bar stool next to him; a well-dressed businessman who a wore questioning smirk, not at all worried at the time it was taking Eden to answer. Eden wasn’t sure how to, when it was obviously a badly thought-out pick-up line.
“Sorry… I’m waiting for someone.” He flashed the man a small smile and turned away to stare at his pint, grimacing at the idea of drinking it now. Warm beer. Blech.
“How do you know,” the man murmured, leaning in close enough for Eden to get a whiff of his cologne: sweet-spicy and hint of something…metallic? “that I’m not the one you are waiting for-” Eden turned back to dismiss him but was thrown by the confident smile that greeted him. Breath catching in his throat before noticing the man was gesturing at the card Eden held. “-Eden?”