One of my releases this year is "Fuchsia: Fanged Trouble", a tongue in cheek romcomzom (Romantic Comedy with Zombies)
Shifters and vampires never mix, even shaken or stirred. That's the lesson Adam has learned, but now he has to fake becoming bonded to his biggest enemy, Philippe, for the good of his clan. To say the two of them don't get along is like saying a volcano is a little hot.
Philippe is gorgeous and sexy as hell, but he's also a king-sized snob, which is a turn off to down-to-Earth Adam. Soon Adam may have to change his tune, though, because zombies invade the city intending to make a tasty snack out of anything that moves, and the only person he can turn to for help is Philippe, even though he'd rather eat his own leg.
Adam was checking his Twitter feed during the early evening from his room. He and Philippe had moved off the cruise ship and were staying in suites that could fit an entire football team.
The place set Adam's teeth on edge. This hotel was so upscale that he wouldn't be surprised if there was a black tie requirement for the dust. It had an in-house gym and racquetball courts, twenty-four hour room service, in-house spa services, plus sheets with a thread count so high that Adam that he felt like he was lowering their value just by touching them.
He knew that the Maquereaus were loaded, but it was one thing to hear about it, and another to find out that Philippe had a personal servant who traveled with him. Admittedly, the manservant was easy on the eyes, but Adam knew better than to look while he was out in public. He even held his tongue while Philippe quibbled with the hotel staff over the location of Adam's previous suite. A department store nearby had had a fire the previous day, and the slight smell of smoke drifting through Adam's window was deemed unacceptable. After an embarrassing amount of fuss, Philippe had Adam's room changed to a more suitable one.
Adam wanted to be in something less expensive, but they needed a place that had tight security so that they could control what got out on the Net. The hotel was also far away from both Sotiros and Maquereau territory, to enforce the illusion that they needed their privacy.
Adam had started the skewed campaign two days ago on Twitter, by making it appear that he had gotten plastered and had kissed Philippe. He hinted that something that disturbed him had happened, and then he signed off. After a few hours, he Tweeted, "Couldn't sleep, keep dreaming of someone I should hate."
Blaine had been briefed, and he immediately followed up on Adam's Tweet with, "OMFG! It's the prophecy!"
Of course, all the younger members of the clan immediately jumped on it and started bombing teamhowling, their social networking community, with hopeful posts asking each other if the rumor was true. Flame wars started between the cynics and the optimists, and Blaine had his work cut out for him to keep everything on track. Days of debate followed, with more and more members joining the community to see what the hoopla was about. Adam's last Tweet indicated that he was going somewhere remote "to discuss new developments with a certain someone."
This caused teamhowling and their rival community, furballs_FTW to explode with rumors again. Now that speculation had reached a fever pitch, Adam just had to do one little thing to push them over the edge.
He was wondering if it was possible to get out of it when he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. He knew that scent anywhere and braced himself for a tongue lashing right before he whipped open the door.
"What the fuck do you want?"
Philippe glanced up and down at Adam's beaten up jeans and worn T-shirt. "Can't you dress even somewhat decently tonight?"
"Are you nuts? I always wear this. If I change, any picture Tweeted to my clansmen will make them suspicious." He snorted when he saw Philippe's tailored black silk shirt, expensive wool slacks, and custom-made black leather jacket. "Although I don't think anything is 'normal' for you. Don't you have anything in your closet that isn't a limited edition design?"
Philippe straightened his clothing. "There's nothing wrong with looking good. Can you at least shave that disgusting five o'clock shadow?"
"See my previous answer. And don't you fucking dare bash on the scruff, my hook-ups think it's sexy."
"If they want to have their faces abraded off, I suppose so."
"I'd love to tell you to go coat yourself in honey and sit on a hill full of fire ants, but I'm too polite to do that."