River of Dreams II: A Vampire's Kiss

Violet travels to the Amazon to appeal to a legendary River Goddess to fulfill a lifelong fantasy - to be bitten and made love to by a vampire.

After returning home she questions her sanity in believing this myth...


Published: 07/2004
Length: Short Story
Word Count: 15,700
Genre: Paranormal/Vampire Romance
Rating: Erotic
Available formats: PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)


Click Here to Read Excerpt...

River of Dreams II:
Myra Nour


© Copyright by Myra Nour, July 2004
© Cover Art by Kat Richards, July 2004
ISBN 978-1-60394-
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636


This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.


A flicker of movement near the double doors drew her eyes and her hands stilled on the dresser. His dark form flowed from the night’s embrace and he stopped a dozen feet behind her.

“You look beautiful.”

His deep voice vibrated through her, setting her nerves tingling. It was even sexier due to his charming accent. Perhaps French?

This was the first time she’d heard his voice. It was everything she could have dreamed a lover’s voice should be.

A sudden slight wind blew in, ruffling her gown and setting his cloak flying outward. He appeared the part of the legendary vampire figure. Would he look it? Act it? Her fantasy had only gone so far each time, but she hoped tonight was different. All times before, the dream had that hazy, skip-hop sensation, so that she could only grasp snippets of the action. So far, this one had a realism that was unbelievable.

The wind brought his scent to her--a mixture of cologne and the smell of fresh rain. Pattering droplets hit the balcony, bringing with it a refreshing atmosphere. It invigorated her body and spirit.

“You have been waiting for me, cherie?”

Definitely French. “Yes,” she whispered.

She didn’t hear his footsteps, and was startled when his hands settled on her shoulders. A flush ran through her body as his strong hands massaged her skin above the collarbones.

A sigh escaped her. His touch was both relaxing and stimulating. She watched his reflection. The candlelight played across his features, giving hints of a strong jaw and full masculine lips. How she longed to see his whole countenance, but was fearful of breaking the mood. His head dipped down and he rubbed his face into her hair. She shivered.

“So soft,” he purred.

One hand slid down her neck, caressing her bosom, and her breasts quivered at his touch.

“Like velvet,” he whispered into her ear.

It seemed hard to breathe, but she managed to take in a slow, deep breath anyway.

Releasing her shoulders, he gathered her locks into two bundles, and then let them fall. The soft curls fell heavily on either side of her face.

“It’s lovely like that,” he stated hoarsely, smoothing her hair over her breasts, his hands lingering over each mound.

“I ... don’t even know your name.” She remembered to breathe as his thumbs found her aching nipples, rolling them into tighter pebbles.

“Armand.” His hands paused. “And you?”


He chuckled. “I thought maybe you were jasmine.”

She smiled. He had a sense of humor, for it was a jasmine scent she’d sprayed on her neck.

“Now that the formalities are dispensed with.” Armand put his hands on her upper arms and pulled upward. Like an automaton she followed his directive actions, getting to her feet.

He stood behind her, his height towering over her by at least a foot. It made her feel vulnerable.

He shoved the chair out of the way and pulled her against him. His hard chest rose and fell, and she was sure his breathing indicated he was as excited as she was.

“Look.” He nodded at the mirror. “You are an angel.”

The white opaque nightgown draped her figure, clinging to her breasts, leaving her nipples in bold relief, and revealing long stretches of skin. Not an angel, but maybe a seductress.

His hands smoothed her hair into a fall down her back.

“Better,” he whispered in her ear.

Her neck flopped weakly against his chest, but she kept her eyes on the mirror as he’d requested. Armand’s hands slid down her arms, then stroked the cleavage just above the bodice.

His fingers left blazing trails of electric tingles in their wake, and she burned for his touch.

Violet’s heart thudded when he slowly pushed down the top and her breasts bounced free.

“Perfect.” His lips moved on her earlobe, sucking it into his warm mouth.

Moisture gathered between her legs and an aching need erupted from her center. His hands kneaded each breast. Untying the string under her breasts, he shoved the silky material down. It slithered and pooled at her feet. Weakness filtered through her nerve endings at the sight of her nude body clasped against his clothed form. It made her tremble with desire and her knees go weak. Her clit beat wildly, as if crying, take me.