I smooth the lapels of his blazer. “You know, I’m liking this new look. It’ll make things easier when you meet my family and friends if you appear reasonably human.”
“Meet them—” The color drains from his face, mirroring his aura as it fades to pure gray terror.
I bark a laugh. “Oh, come on. That scares you? After everything we’ve been through, that’s what leaves your blood cold? You have to meet them . . . it’s one of the unwritten rules of dating.”
“There are rules for a boy wooing a girl?” Tugging gently on my hair, he brings my face close enough to taste his warm, sweet breath. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to write them down for me. I’m new to all this.”
A smile curves my mouth, to imagine an incubus asking for dating tips. “There are only three others you should know. First, never say the word woo. Second, don’t spout lame poetry, unless the occasion calls for a little extra romance.” I push a fallen curl from his forehead, amazed and awed by how lucky we are to have found each other at this moment in time. Something I might be grateful to Erik for one day, many years from now. “And third, just be yourself. Guaranteed, you’ll have all the girls falling at your feet.”
I’ve no sooner said it than he scoops me into his arms, cradling me as if I weigh no more than one of Ange’s feathers. “I have only one girl in mind,” he says, close to my lips. “And I’ll never let her fall. Too poetic?”
I trace the sculpted lines of his chin and jaw, breathless. “No,” I whisper once I finally manage a response. “The occasion called for it.”
Eyes copper-bright with the energy pulsing between us, his features grow somber. I hold his face as he bows his head for a kiss—a teasing crackle of sensation through my lips, tongue, and throat—flavored of spun sugar melted by a smoky flame. Carrying me to the rose petals, he lays me down. Then he lowers himself over me, and his mouth finds my skin, lighting up my body with song.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Caution: RoseBlood Spoilers
One of my favorite undertakings as an author is research. Inevitably, I learn something new, but nothing is as exciting as when I stumble upon facts from my everyday world—historical details or unique ideologies—that not only fortify the foundations of my fictional worlds but also enrich my real life, adding colorful layers that wouldn’t have been there otherwise.
I first discovered Gaston Leroux’s The Phantom of the Opera in high school, and was captivated from that moment on by the tragic, dangerous, and often sardonically humorous antihero, Erik. Over time, I evolved to a true-blue phan (Phantom fan), always eager to experience the story’s many incarnations, be it as a musical, movie, or book adaptation. A few years ago, while surfing the web for information on Erik, I stumbled upon a phan forum that hypothesized he might’ve been a psychic vampire (also known in some circles as an incubus)—a supernatural subterranean creature who lives off of energy instead of blood.
Once that idea was in my head, I couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities. If the Phantom was an otherworldly creature, he could be immortal. After all, what would produce more energy for him to feed upon than the rapture of music or terror? (Both of which he inspired in spades.) Maybe he didn’t die at the end of the original book. Maybe he made the ultimate sacrifice and faked his death to go underground again so Christine might have the normal life he could never give her. I wondered what—if anything—would ever be powerful enough to lure him to resurface in modern-day Paris over a hundred years later. Only two things I could think of: to rescue a mistreated child (Erik himself was physically and emotionally abused by so many, including his own mother), and the possibility of resurrecting his love for Christine somehow. These speculations gave birth to RoseBlood.
The idea for this novel percolated in my mind for several years while I wrote Splintered, but I didn’t start researching RoseBlood until Abrams bought the book on proposal after I’d finished the Splintered series. Once I began, I took a page from my Wonderland retelling and opted to include Leroux’s real-life inspiration for Christine, rumored by many to be the world-famous Swedish operatic soprano who went by the stage name Christina Nilsson (birth name: Kristina Jonasdotter, born to Jonas Nilsson and Cajsa M?nsdotter).
There were some facts I stumbled upon along the way that gave credence to Christina Nilsson being the “real” Christine:
? Christina used to sign her name as “Christine” during written correspondences.