My Lady's Choosing: An Interactive Romance Novel(39)

“They could have been friends with the devil himself, and I still would have done it! The money from that commerce helped my father recover.”

“That commerce,” Evangeline spits, “imperiled my husband’s reputation in his dying days.”

Now it is Delphine’s turn to spit. “Your husband! That was a marriage of convenience. He had no interest in you! He only had interest in other men!”

“So?” Evangeline laughs. “We were loyal to each other. We helped each other. Do you have any idea how hard it was to heal the rift your betrayal created between us? We were friends, Delphine.”

“So?” Bitter tears now glitter in Delphine’s eyes, like jeweled scarabs in the sand. “We were lovers. Lovers forgive each other, always. True lovers do. And if you had done the same to me, I would have forgiven you. I loved you. I love you. Love forgives.”

“Love betrays!” Evangeline’s golden pistol slips from her hand into the sand. Tears slip down her cheeks in hot pursuit of the gun.

“Love is sorry.” Delphine drops to her knees.

“Love is foolish.” Evangeline drops to her knees as well.

“Love waits. Love returns. Love grows.” Delphine and Evangeline are like twinned obelisks, serving as markers to the gates of heaven. Fabien and you tremble at the sight of them.

“Love—”

But whatever Evangeline is about to say is lost in a rush of silken kisses that have been waiting an eternity to rule again.

You slump against Fabien’s body, much relieved, and a little saddened. You know you should be happy to have reunited these two lovers, after so much space and time, but—

“You feel used,” Fabien whispers to you. You blink a tear from your eye and shake your head.

“Not used, but—”

“The sidekick. The unchosen.” Fabien’s voice aches with desire for you, and you can feel it course through him—and yourself—like royal blood, or the waters of the Nile, strange, dark, and true. “I wish for you not to feel this way, my lady. I wish for you to feel the full height of your power. The full scope of my desire. I wish to choose you. I wish to choose pleasure. I wish you to choose yourself. Choose your joy. If even for this small speck of sand in the hourglass of all eternity, shall we choose to celebrate our bodies, and each other?”





The man drives a rock-hard bargain.

If you take Fabien up on his offer, turn to this page.

If you’re really just not in the mood, turn to this page.





“You are a monster!” you say. The Reverend Loveday pauses and narrows his eyes. You grab his beautiful face.

“I love monsters.” And with that you pull him to you to consummate your union of sin.

After some frenzied lovemaking, the two of you lie among the tombstones of the eldritch garden, your passion spent. Lazily running your fingers through his hair, which glows silvery gold in the moonlight, you coo into his ear. “It must have been hard, being the poor relation so close to inheriting a fortune, were it not for a couple of fools who do not know their good fortune.”

Reverend Loveday chuckles under his breath. “Ah, my dear, there is more to it than that.” He runs his fingers down your face. They are ice-cold, even after your exertions, and send a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

“You see, the real Simon Loveday Craven, third in line to inherit, died in Venice on his Grand Tour…I might have helped with that. And, as he was an orphan with few friends and no close family, I simply took his place.”

You startle and gaze into his cool blue eyes.

“Then who are you?” you ask. He smiles, his mouth fully open for the first time. How had you never noticed before now that he had only smiled with his mouth closed? Sharp white fangs glint in the moonlight.

“I am Raven de Craven, the original Craven who came over with William the Conqueror,” he says. “Hopesend was my home in the beginning, and it shall be my home once more!”

“How can this be?!” you say, shocked. He strokes your face with his hands as cold as marble.

“Don’t you see? I am one who stalks in the darkness—a creature of the night!” He wraps you in his strong arms and together you float into the sky. You moan in ecstasy and cling to him for dear life.

“Let me sire you…let me make you my queen!” he cries as you dance among the treetops of the eldritch garden. In answer, you lift your throat to his hungry mouth and moan in pain and pleasure as his sharp teeth pierce your flesh.

As you walk back to the house, the world has changed. You feel deep in your veins that you could accomplish anything, take on anything.

Still, you feel some lingering affections for the Cravens and so you decide against killing them. Instead, you slink into the house, a sweet smile on your face, and use your lady vampire glamour to convince Craven and Alexander that the best thing would be to fake their own deaths and start a new life with new names in America. With glazed expressions, they rush out of the house intent on staging a boating accident.

You and Raven laugh at their departure and then make love so violent in every room that the servants all move out. You do not mind, for humans are always replaceable. You and your vampire love rule over Hopesend under different guises—and still do to this day!

The End