Saturday, October 29, 2011

Release Day for Lisa Worrall and Forever Dusk



Self-confessed horror fan Jonah reluctantly agrees to accompany best friend Theo and his latest squeeze to a new club downtown. Dressing up like an Anne Rice reject was not part of the deal, but that's exactly how he finds himself outside Forever Dusk--the latest theme club for wannabe vampires.

After watching a fake vampire sinking his fake fangs into fake skin and drinking fake blood, and warding off an attempted assault by a drunk moron sporting fake contacts, Jonah decides to beat a hasty retreat.

Until he gazes into the beautiful, violet-colored eyes of Sebastian O'Keefe, the club's owner. Inexplicably drawn to this vision of tall, dark, and mysterious, Jonah makes a decision that could change his life forever.


"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this. What the fuck am I doing?" Jonah complained, picking at the stupid ruffles on the stupid shirt Theo had insisted he wear.
"Being a whiny little bastard," Theo replied. "You're driving me nuts, dude. This is supposed to be an evening of mystery and adventure, not an evening of listening to you bitch and moan." Looking again at the directions written on the square of paper in his hand, he made a right turn.

Jonah ran a hand through his chestnut colored hair and winced when the huge costume ring he was wearing got caught in the soft waves. "This club had better be worth all the hype. I look like a refugee from a Dracula audition." He glanced over at Theo as he turned down an alleyway and steered the car to a stop. "What's this girl's name again?"

"Clarissa," Theo said, on a breathy sigh.

Jonah rolled his eyes. There it was again, the same stupid dreamy-eyed look Theo had been getting ever since he'd met this girl in the student union last weekend. "Will you stop thinking with your dick and concentrate," Jonah grumbled. "What time did Goth girl say she was meeting us?"

"Eleven," Theo replied, shutting off the engine and palming his keys. Turning to look at Jonah, he licked his thumb and reached toward his friend. "Your eyeliner is smudged."

"Dude," Jonah cringed, batting Theo's hand away. "I'll deal with my own eyeliner thanks. Which has got to be the weirdest thing I've ever said." Pulling down the mirror on the visor, he swiped a thumb underneath his eye.

Theo shrugged, glancing at his watch and pulling at the black ruffled shirt he was wearing. "I don't know why you're making such a fuss about a little bit of make-up. Don't you people wear it all the time?"

"You people?" Jonah huffed incredulously. "You're lucky we're friends, pal, or I'd be punching you in your stupid face right now. Just because I'm gay does not mean I wear lip gloss, eyeliner, and mince around in a pink tutu." He frowned at his best friend. "I find your stereotypical remarks offensive. But then I find most things about you offensive."

"Says the guy in the tight leather pants and satin shirt," Theo drawled back, not the slightest bit put out at the slur upon his character.

Jonah growled something about Theo's parentage not being quite legal and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. The cold night air immediately permeated the thin fabric of the ruffled satin and he folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to retain some body heat. He thought of his nice warm room, with its nice warm couch and its nice warm TV. Jonah never really knew how he let Theo talk him into these things. Surely he knew well enough by now not to be sucked in when the "best friend" card was played? Obviously not, his inner voice whispered in his ear. If you did, you wouldn't be standing in a cold, dark alley dressed like an Anne Rice reject, while Theo waited for the flavor of the week.

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