Darkness & Light by J.A. Belfield

You decide. Read through my interview with Darkness & Light’s Sean Holloway . 🙂

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The smell of greasy burgers hangs in the air as the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen, the chime of the door and the ‘ching’ of the cash register add to the diner’s ambiance. I’ve picked this spot for a very specific reason, not only to conduct this interview, but to see if it brings back any memories for my interviewee. A quick check of the door shows me he’s arrived, the epitome of tall, dark and handsome with his broad shoulders and dark hair. Already, I’m finding I need to avert my eyes ’cause I know if his woman strolls through that door, the killing looks are gonna happen. I mean, who wouldn’t stare at Sean Holloway? She should understand that, right?

Well … he did agree to this interview, so … surely he asked her?

Slipping into the seat across from me, his legs bump mine under the table. I have to squelch the little school girl bubble of a giggle that jumps into my throat. Sean Holloway and I just touched. Nope. There is goes. Shoot. Now what do I do?

He glances over each shoulder though I have no idea what he’s looking for before he comes back to me. One hand brushed over his hair. His hair is perfect, so what’s he thinking? His smile appears, stretched into one of those winners that shoots heat up my body.

“Hey,” he says.

Oh, god. He said ‘hey’ in that gorgeous British accent adding to his smile. My palms have gone all sweaty and rubbing them on my thighs isn’t helping at all. I’m pretty sure if I try to swallow nothing’s going to go down.

Geez. How old am I again? Compose yourself, Aimee! Get a grip already. You can do this. “Um … ” Great, now I sound like a dolt, too. The actual slap to the forehead solidifies my position as an idiot. I debate for just a second, dropping it to the table top surface but instead, I keep staring into his eyes—a mesmerizing dark shade of brown. Something inside me flutters until it calms.

“So … you’re a werewolf?” I ask. “How’s that different than being a dog?” Oh, no, I did not just ask that question. Well .. what’s said is said. Let’s see what he says.

A nervous laugh comes out along with a small cough covered by his fist. He rests his forearms on the table and meets my eyes. “We’re bigger … and would you mind keeping your voice down if you’re going to be so direct?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Good point.” I swear this is not going well. I tuck my hands between my legs to keep the wringing from showing. “Tell me about the first woman you ever loved.” Oh, good. That came out smooth. Phew. I can even feel my shoulders relax a little.

“Jem …” His eyes glaze over.

I’d swear he’s looking at me but not. Imaging Jem? The setting’s the same, I know, as their reunion (which was my intent) so maybe I’d succeeded in triggering memories?

“I met her … a long time ago.” He smiles at me, though still isn’t looking at me. “She smelled–was different to all other females. And I …had to have her … was intrigued by her.” He shrugs. “In truth, she had me from the moment she first spoke to me.” A blink seems to bring him back to me. “There’s never been anyone else. Never will be.”

I totally melt. Yup. I’m a pool of female mush on the floor listening to the awe and revery in his tone. That’s love. It’s got to be. No self-respecting guy would go all ‘swoony’ about a girl, and tell me about it with that kind of verbal gooeyness. He’s gone from hot to cuddly. I wanna go sit next to him and hold his hand and say, “It’s okay … we girls think that way about you.” But luckily that thought stays trapped in my head.

“Huh?” He scratches at his head, leaning back in his seat if only to gain a little distance from the predatory glint in my eye. “Think what … way about me?”

Damn. I said that out loud. Think. Quick. Change tactics. “What’s your favorite color?”

His eyes narrow for a second before he relaxes. “Blue. Like Sapphires.” That smile blooms. “Nice, polished sapphires.”

I lean my elbows on the table, gazing back into his eyes. “Ever bought her jewelry?”

His eyes widened as if I’ve just hit him with news. “Um …” He rubs the back of his neck. “No.”

“You know, sapphires make really pretty necklaces.” More comfortable with our conversation, I lean back against the seat. The waitress behind the counter yells out an order for the kitchen, and the wafting of onion and peppers trails to me. “You have a really intense sense of smell, right? That ever gotten you in trouble?”

His gaze moves to above the counter as his nostrils flare. I imagine he’s taking it all in. When he finally gives me his attention again, I’m staring at him like a goon.

He shrugs with a grin. “I get in trouble as much as the next guy. I’d never thought of blaming it on my sense of smell before, though. Thanks. I’ll remember that one the next time I’m out of excuses.”

My laugh escapes before I can contain it. “Tell me your best excuse. One that actually worked.”

That smile just refuses to leave his face. “Jem was the best excuse. I’d found her. Dad was about to kick my hide for … sneaking about and being secretive. When I told him Jem was the reason, he let me off—big time. My easiest wriggle out of trouble to-date.”  The wink sends my heart fluttering.

“Your Dad must be a softie for women then. Is he?” I ask.

He tilts his head, seeming to consider for a moment. “‘If the female is the right one, she’s worth your life, heart and soul, Son.’ My dad taught me that. So, you can decide for yourself what that makes him.”

I mirror his angle, letting this accent cover me like a soft blanket. “Why do you refer to women as females?” I can already see the wheels turning with a big ‘duh’ moment. “I know we’re female … I have all the right parts myself. But why not lady? Women? Girl?”

He breathes out a laugh as he peers down at his hands on the table before reconnecting with my eyes. He leans forward again. “Because females covers every … species … so much better than the human name of woman or girl. See?” His voice is low and soft.

“But it sounds … um … old. And you’re what? Thirty-something? It makes me think you’re from the 1800s or something.”

He pushes back in his chair, the screech of feet across tiles loud enough to have a few people look over. His head turns toward the exit. “Coffee.” He swings back around to me. “I could use coffee.” He strides half-way across the restaurant before returning to the table. “I’m thirty-two. Can I get you anything?”

“I’m good.” I point to my iced tea sitting still nearly full on the table. I wonder at his sudden departure. Werewolves have a long history, right? Did I say something or has the overwhelming scent of grease finally done him in. At his return, with coffee in hand that the waitress could have brought, I decide it’s time to ask a more pointed question. We’ll see if it ends our conversation or not.

He sips.

I wait until he finishes, preferring not to be spit upon even accidentally.

The cup settles to the table.

“So, Sean…”

His hands curl around the mug.

Just one more teensy-weency question for him. “One of my characters said, “Once you go vamp, you never go back. Does the same apply to werewolves?”

His chuckle is natural and hearty. Clearly, he can’t help himself. With a shake of his head, he says, “Babe, once you go werewolf, you’ll never want to go anywhere else again.”

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Oh yeah. Sean Holloway is hot. Got questions for him? Leave them in the comments and he JUST might answer you!

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Buy Darkness and Light at: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Powells, Amazon.co.uk, Books on Board and other places!

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Aimee Laine is the author of Little White Lies, a paranormal romance.

For Charley Randall, time is her greatest enemy. Wyatt Moreland’s love is her ultimate reward.

Buy it at  your local bookstore | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | AllRomance | BooksOnBoard