Vampiric Beginnings: Understudy Excerpt
The recent publication of my story "Pet Door" in Girls Who Bite, and the blog entry I wrote for Frequently Felt, led me to remembering the first vampire story I wrote. It was also the first short story I sold to a print anthology. "Understudy" appears in Lust at First Bite, which is still available.
"U
nderstudy" is the story of Mauzy Lyman, an actor working as the understudy for Bela Lugosi, in the great Hungarian horror star’s turn on Broadway in the role of Dracula. As you may know, Lugosi’s popularity on the stage led to Universal studios choosing him for the lead in the 1931 movie, which in turn led to his iconic performance as the undead count.
Besides telling a hot story, I used "Understudy" to play with the idea of the vampire across the centuries, from old Europe to the Victorian era, and the influence that lore had on the modern film notions of supernatural sexuality. Understudy was also the first story I published in my unofficial succubus short story series, featuring a female spirit who most often appears with the name Ana. Other Ana stories include "Last Kiss" in Remittance Girl’s free anthology Slip of the Lip and "The Blood of Dreams", in my collection Darkness and Delight and soon to be re-featured on the ERWA website in October.
Here’s an excerpt from "Understudy." In this scene, the night after a performance, Mauzy has gone home with Ana, the mysterious woman he meets in a downtown bar. A cab has delivered them to her apartment.
**
"My house," she said, her gaze intent on him. "Enter freely, of your own will."
"You sound just like him," Mauzy said, trying to smile.
She laughed lightly, chimes of pleasure that stroked Mauzy’s groin with a feather of seduction even as it shivered his skin. "Only a joke, poor Mauzy. You really should relax."
Her hand as hot as summer sunlight took his as she led him out of the entry hall and into her parlor. With surprising strength and a hint of force she pushed him onto a wine-dark velvet settee, then stood looking down at him, her dark gaze holding his. He thought of Theda Bara.
"Will you drink with me?" Her voice kissed him.
He nodded, his heart racing. She glided away from him, her scent wrapping him in blankets of languid weight. With effort he looked away and up toward the ceiling invisible in the gloom, save in the corner where a single lamp burned. Golden fireplace light chased the dancing shadows.
Anastasia paused by the fire and shrugged off her jacket, tossing it to the floor. The burgundy blouse shaped her breasts and the tight line of her stomach above a skirt black as printer's ink. The fire glare behind her turned the skirt to gray mist and blood rushed to Mauzy’s prick. She wore nothing beneath the black silk and he saw with perfect clarity the dusky length of her thighs, the cut of her hip, and the pale velvet of the patch that marked her sex.
She spun her cap onto the discarded jacket and shook out her hair in a fall of soft radiance that framed her face and covered her burgundy shoulders like moonlight on a sea of blood. She stepped away from the fire to pour their drinks in shadow and Mauzy’s spirits sank.
When she passed before the hearth again, his faith renewed, redoubled. The burgundy blouse, as thin and translucent as her black skirt, revealed for a moment her breasts, nipples erect and high, a perfect, naked shadow in an aura of fire. He barely breathed when she sat beside him, hip pressed lightly against his, hot and soft as though his woolen slacks had somehow melted away.
She handed him a glass half-filled with a thick golden liqueur and as he took it, the glamour she had woven around him faded a bit and clear thought pushed forward. He sniffed at the liqueur. The scent seemed familiar, earthy, sweet, with a flicker of heat, but he could not place it.
"Drink," she commanded.
Mauzy raised the glass to his lips. The golden liquor burned his tongue, flowing into his chest and up behind his ears. Without hesitation he gave himself over to her. He knew he really had no choice.
No choice at all.
Ana unbuttoned her shirt and beneath was only Ana. Dark skin shone in the fire glow, her breasts, small and jaunty with stiffening nipples the color of bruises. Mauzy ached to taste, to close his teeth around her breast, but he only stared, wanting. A smile, slight but smug tugged at her rich mouth and her hands went to the buttons of his shirt. As the heat of her caress set his chest afire, she leaned forward, her lips wet and hot upon his neck, sank her teeth into the fragile flesh of his throat, and drank him into darkness.
He opened his eyes beneath the cloak of night at the edge of the campfire's light. He lived in the shadows beyond the wagons, and there he hungered. He heard a lively tune from the camp, flute and tambourine, and he remembered music as he remembered sunlight, precious and vanished things.
A south wind blew the Mediterranean's breath among the mountains, the smell of life and death. He himself stank of the earth where he lay each day, the brother of worms dressed in linen finery, gone now to threads at cuff and hem. The watch he had worn every day of his life lay heavy in his pocket, no longer ticking.
He was the Romany night, the endless dark miles these people traveled. He was born of the cruelty they endured and the guilt and sorrow of unending departure. He was death waiting quietly in the shadows.
A girl left the fire and walked toward the wagon. The wind pushed him at her, his ragged linen rising like a cloak around him. He hungered like fire in dry leaves and drew her to him.
He was the dominance of mortality and the fever of desire. She could not resist him, did not even cry out or struggle as his teeth bit into the firm meat of her neck. Her whimper, between fear and pleasure, did not stir him, the sound of her surrender so common to his ears he hardly heard her, knew only the rich life that ran from her and into him, the memory of lost pleasures, like music and sunlight.
"This is the seed of the dreams," Ana whispered, her words as arousing as the press of her body against him.
"U
nderstudy" is the story of Mauzy Lyman, an actor working as the understudy for Bela Lugosi, in the great Hungarian horror star’s turn on Broadway in the role of Dracula. As you may know, Lugosi’s popularity on the stage led to Universal studios choosing him for the lead in the 1931 movie, which in turn led to his iconic performance as the undead count.Besides telling a hot story, I used "Understudy" to play with the idea of the vampire across the centuries, from old Europe to the Victorian era, and the influence that lore had on the modern film notions of supernatural sexuality. Understudy was also the first story I published in my unofficial succubus short story series, featuring a female spirit who most often appears with the name Ana. Other Ana stories include "Last Kiss" in Remittance Girl’s free anthology Slip of the Lip and "The Blood of Dreams", in my collection Darkness and Delight and soon to be re-featured on the ERWA website in October.
Here’s an excerpt from "Understudy." In this scene, the night after a performance, Mauzy has gone home with Ana, the mysterious woman he meets in a downtown bar. A cab has delivered them to her apartment.
**
"My house," she said, her gaze intent on him. "Enter freely, of your own will.""You sound just like him," Mauzy said, trying to smile.
She laughed lightly, chimes of pleasure that stroked Mauzy’s groin with a feather of seduction even as it shivered his skin. "Only a joke, poor Mauzy. You really should relax."
Her hand as hot as summer sunlight took his as she led him out of the entry hall and into her parlor. With surprising strength and a hint of force she pushed him onto a wine-dark velvet settee, then stood looking down at him, her dark gaze holding his. He thought of Theda Bara.
"Will you drink with me?" Her voice kissed him.
He nodded, his heart racing. She glided away from him, her scent wrapping him in blankets of languid weight. With effort he looked away and up toward the ceiling invisible in the gloom, save in the corner where a single lamp burned. Golden fireplace light chased the dancing shadows.
Anastasia paused by the fire and shrugged off her jacket, tossing it to the floor. The burgundy blouse shaped her breasts and the tight line of her stomach above a skirt black as printer's ink. The fire glare behind her turned the skirt to gray mist and blood rushed to Mauzy’s prick. She wore nothing beneath the black silk and he saw with perfect clarity the dusky length of her thighs, the cut of her hip, and the pale velvet of the patch that marked her sex.
She spun her cap onto the discarded jacket and shook out her hair in a fall of soft radiance that framed her face and covered her burgundy shoulders like moonlight on a sea of blood. She stepped away from the fire to pour their drinks in shadow and Mauzy’s spirits sank.
When she passed before the hearth again, his faith renewed, redoubled. The burgundy blouse, as thin and translucent as her black skirt, revealed for a moment her breasts, nipples erect and high, a perfect, naked shadow in an aura of fire. He barely breathed when she sat beside him, hip pressed lightly against his, hot and soft as though his woolen slacks had somehow melted away.
She handed him a glass half-filled with a thick golden liqueur and as he took it, the glamour she had woven around him faded a bit and clear thought pushed forward. He sniffed at the liqueur. The scent seemed familiar, earthy, sweet, with a flicker of heat, but he could not place it.
"Drink," she commanded.
Mauzy raised the glass to his lips. The golden liquor burned his tongue, flowing into his chest and up behind his ears. Without hesitation he gave himself over to her. He knew he really had no choice.
No choice at all.
Ana unbuttoned her shirt and beneath was only Ana. Dark skin shone in the fire glow, her breasts, small and jaunty with stiffening nipples the color of bruises. Mauzy ached to taste, to close his teeth around her breast, but he only stared, wanting. A smile, slight but smug tugged at her rich mouth and her hands went to the buttons of his shirt. As the heat of her caress set his chest afire, she leaned forward, her lips wet and hot upon his neck, sank her teeth into the fragile flesh of his throat, and drank him into darkness.
He opened his eyes beneath the cloak of night at the edge of the campfire's light. He lived in the shadows beyond the wagons, and there he hungered. He heard a lively tune from the camp, flute and tambourine, and he remembered music as he remembered sunlight, precious and vanished things.
A south wind blew the Mediterranean's breath among the mountains, the smell of life and death. He himself stank of the earth where he lay each day, the brother of worms dressed in linen finery, gone now to threads at cuff and hem. The watch he had worn every day of his life lay heavy in his pocket, no longer ticking.
He was the Romany night, the endless dark miles these people traveled. He was born of the cruelty they endured and the guilt and sorrow of unending departure. He was death waiting quietly in the shadows.
A girl left the fire and walked toward the wagon. The wind pushed him at her, his ragged linen rising like a cloak around him. He hungered like fire in dry leaves and drew her to him.
He was the dominance of mortality and the fever of desire. She could not resist him, did not even cry out or struggle as his teeth bit into the firm meat of her neck. Her whimper, between fear and pleasure, did not stir him, the sound of her surrender so common to his ears he hardly heard her, knew only the rich life that ran from her and into him, the memory of lost pleasures, like music and sunlight.
"This is the seed of the dreams," Ana whispered, her words as arousing as the press of her body against him.
Posted by Angela Caperton at 9/18/2011 2:21 PM 
Categories: Vampires, GBLT, Erotica, ERWA, Understudy, Angela Caperton, Black Lace, Horror film, Frequently Felt, Lust at First Bite, Paranormal
Tags: Angela caperton Erotica Vampires
Categories: Vampires, GBLT, Erotica, ERWA, Understudy, Angela Caperton, Black Lace, Horror film, Frequently Felt, Lust at First Bite, Paranormal
Tags: Angela caperton Erotica Vampires
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