Name:
Johnny De Vere
Occupation:
Vampire, guardian of the River of Time
Born:
1462
Age:
Twenty-one. Johnny's been twenty-one for a very long time. Johnny will be twenty-one forever.
Loves:
Madeleine - though she betrayed him and left him for dead.
Hates:
People telling him he will understand things better when he's older.
Here's an extract
from
Johnny Doesn’t Drink Champagne. In this scene, Maddie has just
gone through the door to the past for the first time, Johnny has come
after her. They're spending their first awkward night together in a
medieval inn in Billingsgate not far from the Tower of London.
“You should drink your soup,” he says stiffly. “Before it goes
cold.”
“I’m not hungry.”
But he passes the bowl to me, and I obediently sample the aromatic
broth.
“It’s good,” I say, sounding slightly surprised.
Johnny scowls at me and paces over to the window again. He makes sure
the shutter is fastened tight.
I drink my soup but he doesn’t even touch his wine.
I try to calm down. I use some of the water to wash my face, and dry
it on the piece of old linen that the girl laid beside the bowl. I
dither about taking off my shoes and generally find every excuse to
delay getting into that bed with him.
I take a few sips of the wine, and find that it tastes absolutely
excellent – it is warm and spicy and reminds me of Christmas. I decide
I’d better not have any more because I need to keep my wits about me.
Johnny says he’ll protect me, yes. From anyone who comes to this
room. But who’s going to protect me from him?
I glance nervously up at him. He’s undoing his doublet, making
quick work of a dozen or more little buttons down the front. He shucks
it off in one easy movement and leaves it on the end of the bed.
Underneath, he’s wearing a linen shirt, and he loosens the fastening at
the neck. He places his belt and his dagger on the table.
He’s a dangerous man, and I’m alone with him for the night. And yet,
I am not afraid. His tenderness to me is revealed more and more, with
every hour that I know him. He is unlike any man I have ever met, or
will ever meet in my lifetime again.
He hesitates, fingers hovering on the strings that tie up his pants – I
mean his hose.
He looks up at me. A blistering look that burns me, deep
inside.
I am standing over by the table, wondering if now is the moment
to snuff out the candles, though the last thing I want to do is
extinguish the light. Not when it lights up such a beautiful, beautiful
sight as Johnny in that open-neck shirt.
“Sorry,” he says. “I am getting ahead of myself. Should I wait
outside while you take off your gown?”
“I… have nothing to change into.”
“Sleep in your shift. Many women do.”
And you’d know about that would you? I’m tempted to ask, but I
don’t.
“I suppose I could,” I say reluctantly.
Suddenly he seems to see the real reason for my hesitation.
“Look, Maddie. It’s just for one night. Stop looking at me like I’m a
monster. I’m not going to seduce you, if that’s what you’re worried
about.”
“You’re not?”
“I am a gentleman, Maddie. You can rest assured of that.”
My face is scarlet, like his hose. I know that. “Okay.”
I haul my dress up over my head, and he offers to take it downstairs
so the servants can brush the mud off the hem. I agree to this and
while he’s gone I rake my fingers through my hair, since I don’t have a
comb.
Then I hop into the bed. The stones have made the bed warm and cozy. The
linen sheets are a little coarse compared with the poly-cotton sheets
I’m used to but they are not uncomfortable. The scent of fresh hay and
lavender is really rather nice. I snuggle down and rest my head on the
pillow.
In a moment or two he returns and snuffs out the candle, carefully.
In the darkness he removes his hose. I turn over in bed so it doesn’t
seem like I’m watching him.
He slips into bed beside me.
His body spoons with mine, and I feel his breath on my neck.
He
strokes back my hair and tells me that he’ll watch over me while I
sleep. While I sleep! How can I possibly fall asleep, with him and his
long muscular limbs brushing against me? His touch leaves me tingling
like he’s conducting electricity into my whole body.
So I just lie still
and try to keep my breathing slow and steady while he whispers soothing
words and strokes my hair.
This is the sweetest, scariest experience I have ever had with a
guy. I’m a virgin. I’ve never had a real boyfriend before.
Is this strange, secretive man really my boyfriend?
I don’t know. Only time will tell.
Some of you found it intriguing: “If I had seen it in a bookstore I
definitely would have picked it up and when I read the description I would have
bought it.” But some just didn’t like it. One (very
helpful) reviewer, who gave the book a very positive four-star review, said
this: “The cover. I am not a fan. I would rather have seen Maddie running from
the Tower in her beautiful dress.”
I need YOUR opinion. Should I
put a girl or a boy on the cover of the next book? To give you a sneak preview
of some of my ideas, here are a selection of shots from a photo shoot we did
yesterday. The model’s name is Aleisha and she is eighteen (just like Maddie
will be in Book Two). I’m thinking of isolating an image of her as a pensive
bride and putting it on a dark moody background that will tell us a little more
about the book. What do you think? Will it work? 
