Today I’m handing the reins off to Ciaran Dwynvil, who is making the rounds promoting his newest release, In Blue Poppy Fields.
With a unique voice and vivid descriptions, Ciaran populates his world with a great variety of individuals; an interview with one of whom he will be sharing later on.
Welcome, Ciaran! The blog is all yours…
Thank you, C.C., for having me as your guest today. I’m very excited to be here to tell you about my newest gay erotic paranormal fantasy, In Blue Poppy Fields. The book will please not only all fans of Belial, the Prince of Trickery, the Lord of Lust and the Antilight… aka Guardian Demon, but also all readers who love vampires.
Though… maybe not all as vampire stories differ greatly. Some have gloomy, horror atmosphere, some are full of blood and violence, still others brim with dark sensuality. How should you know ours would be to your liking? Apart from reading a sample chapter on Amazon or Smashwords to get a feel of the tale, you can meet the men from our world in a series of interviews given as a part of the In Blue Poppy Fields release tour. Let’s first take a look at the book and then we can enjoy the interview with Vincent.
A victim to another man’s cruelty, talented and beautiful theater actor Adhemar Lebeau learned not to trust and not to love anybody but himself. Falsely accused of his master’s murder, he has to accept assistance of mysterious Count Sanyi Arany to later discover his savior is a vampire. Forced both by a fatal illness and aftershocks of torture experienced during his unjust imprisonment, Adhemar agrees to the only possible cure. Rebirth.
Healed in body but not in mind, he guards his independence, free will and heart. He is not able to give love, only the fulfillment of lust. Yet, satiation of sensuous longing is not enough for his Sire and he knows it. When an eerie malady strikes and seems to deplete Sanyi’s life energy for unknown reasons, Adhemar understands his fears and agrees to keep a street boy, Reyach, as a pet for both of them in hope it will soothe the unspoken worries.
Out of necessity he finds himself in the role of the only hunter in their company, and out of attachment he accepts the responsibility readily. Indulgence in blood and carnal pleasures fills his nights and vampiric powers give him the feeling of safety. Until the evening when he carelessly falls prey to High Demon Belial’s plays that quickly turn into more than either of them has bargained for.
In spite of a hard start, Adhemar feels burning urge deep in his heart and no matter how much he denies it, the cause of the strange sensation is a budding seed of affection brought to life by the insufferable demon. But letting Adhemar learn to love somebody other than him is not what seemingly innocent Reyach plans.
A bright and crisp morning is kissing the frozen land and Adhemar and Sanyi dream their scarlet dreams in bed, kept warm by warming pans Vincent tucked under their blankets. It’s the time of the day when he would normally take a rest too. Nap he would. Just for a couple of hours to keep himself going. A valet to two vampires, he doesn’t indulge in long sleep. Today it will be even shorter than usually as he has agreed to meet me for an interview.
His body is lounging on the sofa and his eyes are closed when I sit down in my armchair. But he is not asleep. His eyelids open slowly and lazily when he feels I am ready to start. He has just been conserving his energy. Wise of him. “Good morning, Vincent,” I greet him and ask: “Have you had an easy night?”
“Good morning to you too, Ciaran,” he gives me a small smile and adds: “As easy as it could be.”
So, it was a hard one like all the others ever since Sanyi’s malady had struck. There is little I can do about it apart from going through our talk quickly not to rob him of the rest he needs. “I won’t hold you long today,” I promise and his smile of appreciation widens. We don’t need much talk to understand each other, he and me.
“Then by all means go ahead with the questions,” he prompts me and I ask: “What is your author like?” It still sounds strange to me to inquire about myself but they all read the questions in advance and agreed it should be kept there. It doesn’t make the moment any less awkward though. “Hardworking,” he says and it’s my turn to smile as I think the same of him. “To handle a daily job and spend every free moment to write for us, or to speak about our stories is not easy,” he continues and I soar on clouds of his praise.
“You know it brings me pleasure to write for all of you. It’s not work,” I say. “If somebody works really hard, it’s you.”
“You know it brings me pleasure,” he quips and I’m happy to be counted among those few who ever see a more playful part of his soul. Not just the stoic mask he puts on for most of the world.
“I believe the next question was about our world,” he changes the topic as if he has just heard my thoughts. Perhaps he has and I nod.
“This world brings mangled happiness,” he observes and I utter silently: “It does.” What irony to be a man to young immortals and still have to be concerned about their well-being. But Vincent doesn’t complain. “Still it is a good world to live in,” he confirms his optimistic view on things and I melt. If I had a man, I would like him to be like Vincent. I would like Vincent to be my man to be more precise. But I am not a noble to have a valet and there aren’t enough of hours in the day for him to squeeze in yet another master into his schedule. Two vampires to serve are just enough.
He must see my thoughts in my eyes as he arches his brow in amusement and I quickly leave my musing behind and give him the next question: “What do you want the readers to know about you?”
“That they need to look beyond what their eyes see if they’d like to understand me.” A cryptic answer as it is, it’s true and I have to chuckle. I know his story and still he has just managed to grab my interest. Do I really know everything about him? He keeps smiling at me softly, and patiently waits for my next question. Well, we will have plenty of time to deepen my understanding as the story continues with its second part. For now I ask: “What is the one thing you are proud of?”
“That Sanyi and Adhemar are safe. That’s the only thing that matters,” he speaks firmly, with conviction. Yes, he saved both of them and would do it again, should the need arise. I nod and bite my upper lip. For all the loyalty and devotion his heart brims with, he doesn’t know how to cure Sanyi’s malady. But we will not speak of it today. The story will unfold in its right time. “You saved them,” I praise him and add: “They won’t ever forget it.”
“Prithee, I just did what was needed,” he mumbles. Yes, I know, he rarely takes credit. His ego doesn’t really demand it. I don’t argue as I don’t wish to make him feel uneasy and instead I ask: “What would you never share?”
“Never say never in eternity. There are times when you have to share all with your close ones,” he remarks and once again, he is right. Has experience taught him such selflessness or has he always been like this? I’d like to know and perhaps will learn one day if he allows me to see his past in full. “That’s true, Vincent. You are a wise man if I may say so,” I offer and he gives me a small smirk together with: “If you say so.”
“What is your most intense pleasurable memory?” I steer our conversation to hopefully delightful recollections.
For a moment he inwardly debates his answer before he finally shares his thoughts: “Pleasurable… is an interesting word. It can encompass pain and suffering too. The moments can be bitter-sweet and perhaps more remembered for their taint than purity. But to answer your question… I find it pleasurable to feed young masters and the night when they both fed from me is unforgettable.”
“For me too,” I whisper and he nods. “Yes, you experience it all with us. Strange as it is… I think you are there with us. In our lives.”
True enough. I feel their pain and pleasure, tears and joy like my own. But that’s a topic for another, more private conversation and so for now I only agree: “I feel like that too.”
It seems he has expected this answer and doesn’t need to hear more. He tips his head in satisfaction and coaxes: “What’s the next question, Ciaran?”
“Who or what is the greatest love of your life?” I remind him of the list of questions and for once he gives me a truly boyish smirk. “I don’t think anybody needs to know.”
I chuckle and shake my head but yes, I respect his privacy. “Perhaps you could at least tell the readers about your best ever kiss,” I offer him an easy way to leave the previous topic.
“Kisses held little value to me when I still indulged in them. There are other pleasures these years that have wiped memories of kisses off,” he dodges the question in a way that piques my interest. “Like?” I prompt him to elaborate but he only adds one word: “Giving.”
I’m not surprised. Considering his most intense pleasurable memory, another reply wouldn’t do. “Shall we then share a snippet with giving?” I ask for his permission. “But of course. We would like people to read our story,” he agrees readily but I can see he is barely repressing a yawn of tiredness. He needs to sleep, I know.
“My thanks, Vincent, for our talk. Where can the readers meet you again?” I signal we are almost done with our chat for today. “My pleasure, Ciaran. In Blue Poppy Fields, that’s where they can meet me again. But now if you can excuse me…”
“Certes. Sleep well,” I bid him good morning and rise to my feet to leave the room. But before I do so, here is the promised snippet:
Pain pulsated through him in waves rising from his neck and wrist, rolling, rolling, rolling through his frame, joining together somewhere in his chest. But it was an agony of affection and he gave them his gift readily, relishing in the regular milking pulls against his wounds. They both fed in a gentler way now. Their inner beasts had calmed down under the soothing caresses of his powerful blood and neither of them tore his flesh in the effort to lacerate the veins and make them bleed harder. Only an angel’s blood had the power to turn rapacious savages into silently purring kittens. But they wouldn’t know. They would just think that attachment had stopped them in their attack, that it had made them savor the feelings of satiation slowly, gently, thoughtfully. In time, they would learn the same with each other. In time they would learn to truly control the scarlet rage, the needy rush, the desire to kill. In time… and it would take years, maybe decades. But they had all the time in the world and nowhere to hurry.
It can be read without being familiar with other books in the Guardian Demon Series but you now have an opportunity to win one of twelve copies of Trails of Love I Crawl, Part 1 that opens the beguiling world of this series. Participation is easy enough for anybody over the age of eighteen. The more you help others find me and the Guardian Demon Series books, the more chances you will have to win.
What can you do?
- Recommend my books in reader discussions on Goodreads, Shelfari or other platforms on which you are active;
- Follow my blog, like my FB page, follow me on Twitter;
- Rate my books on Goodreads;
- Review my books on Amazon, Smashwords, B&N or Goodreads;
- Feature my books and your reviews of them on your blog if you have one;
- Tell your friends about Guardian Demon Series;
- Tweet about In Blue Poppy Fields, FB links to release tour articles, reblog them, Pinterest them, Stumble upon them… whichever platform you fancy is welcome.
My giveaway form will give you more suggestions. Enter it here.
Winners will be announced on my blog on the 11th of April. I hope to see your entry in the giveaway and thank you for your help in spreading the word of mouth about Guardian Demon Series.
With this I hand C.C.’s blog back over to him. It has been my pleasure to be your guest, C.C. Thank you for having me over today.
You’re welcome, Ciaran! And many thanks to Vincent for taking time out of his schedule to share with us.
In Blue Poppy Fields is definitely on my TBR list, so add it to yours as well!
‘Til next time!