Last year, my OKRWA writing chapter held a fun contest where participants were challenged to write a 500 word story with a ‘monster’ as the romance hero. I’ll be sharing a few of those on my blog between now and Halloween. Enjoy!
FROM TEENA SMITH
Back in the day, I loved the treat of a scary movie late at night. On weekends, an oh-so-entertaining horror host came as a big bonus. For years, The Mistress of the Night, Elvira, and Count Gregore were staples. Their wise-cracking style brought out the fun, campy side of horror. Around Halloween they pulled out all the stops. I especially loved Elvira’s over the top, sexy persona, complete with witty double-entendres.
But the years flit by, and as they do, taste and programming evolves. Demand for horror hosting seems almost nonexistent these days. How might Elvira cope?
What if, late at night around Halloween, she were to have an uninvited guest who might suggest an unusual solution. One, he could say, to help them both. She likes it, but wants a little tweak. Hmmm.
I hope you enjoy my ideas about how the Mistress of the Dark might play this out. ~~TS
Elvira Meets the Prince
Elvira stared at her uninvited guest. Seduction personified, he was tall and built, with dark smoldering eyes, and glossy longish black hair. She was due back on set at midnight, and it was already 10:30. Another production delay, and the project would be scrapped, taking her career with it. Not a high demand anymore for horror hosts.
Lust rolled off him, heating the air. She crossed and uncrossed her legs. Damn — the man was a sexual magnet — or was he a man? Vampires weren’t really her thing. What had he just said? “Chupa what?”
The corners of his sexy-as-sin mouth turned up in a smirk. “As Mistress of the Dark, you seem to have little knowledge of chupacabras.”
The mellifluous, rich timbre of his voice added to his allure. “Dude — your pet goat suckers? Ewww.” One of her feet tapped the floor, a sure sign of her sexual attraction. “Uh, sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”
“You can call me Prince.”
“Oh. Like the name formerly used by the singer.” Was he looking down his nose at her?
He waved a dismissive hand, one finger adorned with what must be a five carat stone. “I never gave him permission to use the name. However, he was quite reasonable once his error was pointed out.”
Suddenly, they sat hip to hip — knee to knee. How did he get right next to her? Less than a minute ago, he’d been at the other end of the small couch. He exhaled, blowing hot breath on her neck. It warmed her to the core, and headed south. None of the undead had so much heat. Was there a trace of Sulphur in the air? Her nose must be out of whack. She visualized her dungeon. He’d be on his knees, maybe in chains. Clad in little more than her thigh high stilettos, she’d strut before him, whip in hand. Mistress indeed . . . She blinked, and shook her head. The temptation to act on her fantasy was too dangerous at the moment. Making him keep his distance was the last thing she wanted, but what else could she do? There was no time. “I never gave you permission to come this close, Prince.”
He inclined his head and moved an arms’ length. “Actually, my dear, I didn’t come here to talk only about my pets. I think we can help each other — in many ways.”
His eyes became iridescent and glowed red. “A new film project — one that can start a new cinematic horror theme. I believe it’ll replace vampires and the zombie apocalypse.”
His enthusiasm was infectious. “Do you mean?”
“Absolutely. Chupacabras — the new horror craze.”
It would give her career a boost, in the bargain. “I think it’s a winner.” “I have to be on set in twenty. Come with me. I’ll introduce you to someone who can make it happen.
“But let’s step downstairs first. I want you to see something.”