Sips of Blood

“Rich in imagery and sympathetic characters,
Sips
of Blood
is a fast-paced and intriguing tale that vampire fans
are sure to enjoy”

--Painted Rock Reviews

“Gut-churning good. I haven’t read a vampire novel
this 3-D in quite some time.”

--The Midwest Book Review

“Mitchell casts a spell with her prose to make it all
come out unique. A compelling read.”

--Hellnotes

Book One

Histoires de Le Vampire Marquis de Sade

Sips of Blood

MARY ANN MITCHELL

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously.

Published by Mary Ann Mitchell at Smashwords.

Copyright © 1999 by Mary Ann Mitchell

Excerpt from Quenched copyright © 2000 by Mary Ann
Mitchell.

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment
only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
If you would like to share this book with another person, please
purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading
this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your
use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your
own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author.

Yes, John, there are vampires. And thank you for
loving me in spite of it. Some historical facts have been altered
to suit the needs of the Marquis de Sade.

"To instruct man and correct his morals: that is our
only purpose in writing this story. We hope that reading it will
make one keenly aware of the peril that always dogs the steps of
those who stop at nothing in satisfying their desires. May they
come to realize that a good upbringing, wealth, talents and gifts
of nature are likely only to lead one astray unless they are
supported or made effective by self-restraint, good conduct, wisdom
and modesty. These are the truths we are going to illustrate. We
ask to be forgiven for the monstrous details of the abominable
crime we shall be forced to describe: it is not possible to make
others detest such wrongdoing if one does not have the courage to
lay it bare."

Eugenie de Franval

by the

Marquis de Sade

Prologue

19th Century

The silk material tickled her flesh as she
tossed the robe off her shoulders. She shivered, smiling while
savoring the pleasant sensation. The paisley robe was now wide open
and was draped across the crooks of her arms.

Liliana looked at her neck in the mirror and
saw how pale it seemed beneath her made-up face. The milky
whiteness of her neck spilled down across her shoulders and
continued down her bare chest until it was shaded between her
tender breasts. The points of each mound swirled into a pink sweet
waiting to be plucked to attention.

Liliana hissed and bared her elongated
incisors. Maybe tomorrow she would try again, but tonight she
couldn't do it. He was so young--barely nineteen. His innocence
gave her comfort. How could she steal it away from him and
herself?

She slipped off the robe and rose from the
chair. When she walked, she was aware of the suppleness and tone of
her body. Each taut leg stepped before her with absolute
straightness. Her abdomen lay flat, with only a hint of the dome
covering her female organs. Her breasts bobbed proudly. Her upper
arms showed the outlines of solid, slender biceps.

As each foot touched the earth inside the
coffin, she felt her breathing become easier. The nostrils flared,
the throat cleared, and the lungs softened. The years swept through
her body. How long? Forty, fifty years? She did not remember how
much time had passed since this quasi-life had begun. Barely
seventeen, Liliana had tossed back her head playfully in front of
her uncle Donatien. He took the opportunity without thinking and
swallowed her young life in a passionate embrace. Now she, too, was
being lured by a spirited adolescent.

Liliana bent her knees and lowered her body
into the box. Upon contact with the earth, her skin crinkled as it
accepted its age. The skeleton protruded slightly where joints
linked. Muscles went limp.

The enticement of this lethal sleep that she
sought each day settled softly throughout her body. She raised her
arm, and her hand touched the yellowed satin of the coffin's lid.
While pulling the lid toward her, she closed her eyes. Liliana
heard the coffin snap shut. She dug her hands into the dry dirt and
sighed, inhaling the sulfurous odor within the casket. Other worlds
merged here. She remembered the innumerable lives she had passed in
quest of her hedonistic cravings. The memories lullabied her soul.
Eventually she succumbed to an ebony dream.

The next evening Stuart arrived at Liliana's
home earlier than even he had planned. She waited in the living
room, dressed in a pale sheer gown with a high waist that lifted
her breasts brazenly above the deeply scooped neckline. Meanwhile,
her caretaker and confidante invited the youth into their home.

When Stuart walked into the room, Liliana had
to consciously prevent herself from rushing toward him. She wished
her cheeks could flush pink as they had many years ago. There was
nothing like a blush on a young girl's cheeks to seduce a male. But
that gift was gone forever.

The blond curls danced around his face with
each step he took. The faint hint of a mustache suggested a
pretension to maturity. Across his right cheek was a purple scar
caused by a wound he had received during the battle against
Napoleon's forces at Waterloo. But this mark did not mar his
appearance; instead it added a boldness to his features. He stopped
just inside the doorway, giving her time to assess the mold of his
body beneath the fitted uniform. Her eyes followed the outline of
his pectorals pressed against his military jacket. In her mind she
imagined the solidness of that chest, with perhaps some wisps of
pale hair barely visible. His waist and hips squared off his form.
The blue material of his pants flirtatiously sloped down between
his thighs. She saw his right thigh tense as he resumed his
step.

"I hope this is not an inconvenience, but I
couldn't bear the wait. You don't know how distressing it is to be
away from you."

"I know. I feel the same when I cannot be
with you, Stuart."

He kissed her hand, and when he raised his
head she could see his blue eyes shimmer with the delight he felt
as the meaning of her words stroked his passion.

"I am looking forward to meeting your
guardian this weekend. I have a special request to make of him," he
said. His cheeks swelled, and his thin lips spread into a
smile.

There was no guardian. Ashamed of her deceit,
Liliana released her gaze from Stuart's and shyly peered down at
the floor. The Persian carpet swirled into myriad colors beneath
her feet. She knew each color was made up of many fine knots that
no one could see unless one bothered to search under the surface.
How like herself, she thought. Her fair, wrinkle-free skin and
thick black hair belied the fact that she was well into her middle
years. Never before had she been so conscious of her charade.

Stuart scooped her chin upwards in the palm
of his hand. He leaned into her body, lowered his face to hers, and
kissed each of her cheeks softly. She wanted to ravage him, but she
was not ready to rip away her façade as yet. Internally she burned;
on the surface she melted onto a side chair.

A shiver shook Stuart's shoulders, and he
moved to the fireplace. He knelt in front of the fire and used a
poker to stoke the embers beneath a charred log. The fire, frenzied
by his touch, soon raped the surface bark from the log. And the log
yielded with a sideways jerk to the flames. He began to speak of
his home in Scotland and his family. His past was hers, his dreams
were memories of a life she had wished for, once. He laughed at his
childhood pranks, and she giggled conspiratorially.

Suddenly, her mood changed.

"What about death?" she asked.

"Death?"

"Yes. Wasn't there ever a death? Perhaps a
sister or a cousin who died young?"

"I don't want to talk about death tonight. We
are both young, Lil, and should be thinking about bringing life
into our world."

He stood and moved toward Liliana. Taking her
hands in his, he knelt before her.

"I love you, Lil. I--"

"Are you taking me to your friend's dinner?
If we don't leave now, we will be forced to remain here, and I must
admit that all our cupboards are bare, so we would suffer from
hunger the rest of the night."

"I already suffer a hunger, and it will not
be sated by a fancy dinner," he said.

Liliana bowed her head to hide the wetness of
her eyes.

* * *

She ate little at his friend's house, since
food no longer nourished her body. The heavy port at the end of the
meal produced a thirst within her that could not be quenched in the
crowded dining room.

"It is too warm here," she said to Stuart.
"May we go outside, perhaps take a walk by the lake?"

After being informed that they were leaving,
the friend slapped Stuart on the back, kissed Liliana's knuckles,
and scurried back to his guests. The curtness of his friend
embarrassed Stuart, but Liliana's chuckle caused them both to break
out in laughter.

Instead of riding in the carriage that had
brought them, they walked down the hill to the lake. The path was
illuminated by a full moon. In her delicately brocaded heels
Liliana found her gait unsteady and therefore clung closely to
Stuart's arm. She tripped, and Stuart instinctively threw his arm
about her waist. He withdrew it a second later when she regained
her footing.

He is so afraid of offending,
she
thought.
It would be easier if he would seek to gain an
advantage over me.

Lilac, honeysuckle, and primrose teased their
senses. The fragrances made the pair giddy. Liliana savored the
youthfulness of her companion. These were years that had passed
quickly for her and had abruptly ended in a delirium of blood lust.
But Stuart saw her, touched her and loved her as the
seventeen-year-old she had always wanted to be.

She encircled his arm with her own and
pressed her shoulder against his biceps. She could feel his muscle
tense through the jacket. Her bare arm reacted involuntarily and
duplicated the action. At this point, Stuart took hold of her hand,
which had been gripping his forearm. He held it in his until they
reached the lake. Liliana settled herself down on the grass. He sat
next to her, and they talked of his past.

"Why do I always tell you of my life when I
really want to talk about our lives together?" said Stuart.

"Because I want to know everything about
you," she responded. "I want to live your past and present with
you."

"And what about the future?" he asked. "Shall
we live out our futures together?"

She looked at him. Her mind jumped from the
present into his future, rupturing the tenderness of his words.

"Ah! But I know so little about you,” he
said, confused by her silence. “The brief sketches you have given
me only whet my desire to experience more of you."

Liliana yearned to possess this youth and his
simplicity. But she knew that once taken, his innocence would flee.
He would learn, as she had, to feign emotions. He, too, would be
driven to corrupt others. She clasped her hands together
tightly.

"What is this?" he said as he tried to pull
apart her fingers.

"Stop it," she shouted and jumped to her
feet, flinging her arms out for balance.

Liliana's beaded bag flew off her wrist and
sunk into the water of the lake. She leaned forward and could see
the bag lying a short distance from land but out of her reach.

"Here, let me get it," Stuart said.

Stuart undid his brass buttons and stripped
off his jacket. Liliana received his jacket across her outstretched
arms and pulled the cloth against the cleavage of her breasts. The
moon glittered against his flesh as he stretched out his hand to
reach the purse. His skin was shaded only by the outline of his
ribs. His broad back flexed several times before his hand could
touch the purse. It was then that she saw the swollen veins running
down the inside of his forearm. The juicy fullness of these vessels
seduced her, and she moved toward him. The water drenching her feet
and the bottom of her dress did not distract her. She inched
forward, her mouth opened wide, and a drop of saliva fell from one
incisor.