|Posted by Brenda Dyer on January 28, 2012 at 11:25 AM|
This sample is taken from my novel Love's Prophecy. In this scene, Mel has told Breeana about the murder of his wife and all who lived in the village he had been the leader of. Although he didn't tell her all.
As Mel stared into Breeana's trusting face, the sound of his father's evil laugh filled his mind, echoing through his skull.
“Look at her,” his father's demented voice said. “What a pathetic fool she is. She's so quick to absolve you of all guilt, but you know better don't you, son? Go ahead, tell her. Tell her how you honored your father. Would she look at you the same if she knew? Would she be so quick to defend you if she knew you are a murderer?”
Fear paralyzed Mel’s limbs.
“What's the matter, son? Do it, I dare you.” His father's evil laugh became louder and louder until that was all he heard. “Tell her who's really to blame for your wife's murder.”
Breeana stepped up against his body, wrapping her arms around him.Her warmth seeped into his stiff limbs, instantly cutting off his father's voice. She pressed a cheek over his heart. While she held him, his tremors slowed then stopped, his mind cleared and a feeling of calm enveloped him.
She looked up at him and brushed his hair off his forehead. “Did you get the bastards who murdered your wife?”
A fierce light shone in her eyes. He caressed her cheek. “Yeah, I did. It took me over a month but yeah, I destroyed them.”
“I'm glad,” she said without hesitation.
His chest tightened as love swelled his heart, spilled over, and invaded his scarred, lonely soul.
“I know the circumstances are less than ideal, but I'm glad I met you. I'll never regret the time we've shared,” she said.
His eyes burned and a lump formed in his throat. “Breeana.” He crushed her to him, molding her to his body. She had no idea how her words affected him. How wonderful it felt to hear someone say the death of his wife—of them all—wasn't entirely his fault, even though he knew it was. Shame over being the only survivor of his village had burned him for so long. Her words helped douse the pain, if for only a moment.
Her cool hands smoothed over his back. “I know I don't know all the facts, but one thing I do know is you're a good man—I mean vampire.”
Love for her flowed through him, almost taking him to his knees. “If you believe that, then you're deranged,” he whispered, against her hair.
“Maybe, but I pride myself on being able to read peoples' hearts and you my friend, have a good one.” She leaned back in his embrace, stretched upon her toes and kissed him.
When she broke off their kiss, Mel wrapped himself around her once more. At that very moment, he could honestly say he was happy. Happy he had chosen to live.