OK, this is my first chapter of my vampire romance story, I've gotten great feed back from my other posts on this and I hope you guys will grant me the same great critiques thanks and enjoy!
Cheers and boastful laughter filled my ears, as I slinked through the crowded bar; on the prowl no doubt.
You know the old joke; one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor? Well for me, it was almost like that only replace the tequila with four Long Island Iced Teas, a shot of gin and four inch glossy black hooker heels.
I thought I was hot shit on a stick, thinking that I was strutting around in my little silky grey dress like a model. Turns out, I was a cold turd on a toothpick, and stumbling around like a fool, tripping over myself. I was a hot mess.
I guess I should tell you my name, just in case I some how end up having a bar brawl with the bar's medieval mascot statue.
My name is Cassie Paene, I am twenty-two years old and I attend NYC University, and I am an emotional wreck, please enjoy.
Stumbling past my fellow alcoholics, I sloshed my half full Long Island Ice Tea, on the nearest college drop-out. He voiced a crude retort, that was drowned out by one of Queens number one hits.
I would have told the ghoulish Viking where he could shove those not nice remarks on women. But alas; I was too busy bobbing my head and singing off key to Bohemian Rhapsody.
I grooved my way towards the medieval styled bartender, hoping he would refresh the nice little brain number in my hand.
I'm sure this looks bad, actually it looks damn bad on my part. I swear I'm no drunk, I just believe that a little liquor cleanses out the pores, puts hair on your chest, those type of things. I also believe drinking to be cathartic, and I am in fact needing some hair of the dog if you know what I mean.
Dodging a few desperate movers and shakers, plus an awful smelling man, I think he must have been a hobo, wondered how he got in.
Finding my way to the bar, I plopped my round tush on the nearest bar stool, almost slipping to the floor, I let out an air head giggle.
Damn silk dress, I straighten myself and slapped my manicured hand firmly on the flat surface. The bronze Adonis bartender with and ill-fitting squire uniform, sauntered over towards me like his green tights were riding up. I suppressed a giggle, he probably wouldn't take to kindly to my laughing at him.
“What can I get for ya?” he asked, his voice deep and calming to my much sedated state.
I smiled sweetly, shaking the empty glass in my hand.
Robin Hood wannabe, rolled his big blue eyes and walked away with my empty glass.
I clapped my hands giddily, this would be my last drink I promised myself, looking around the Feathered Hat.
The rich mahogany walls, with it's old scriptive lore told many stories of the old. Stories of white knights, and dragons, damsels in distress, and an occasional Sheriff of Nottingham character. The walls held shields of the olden days, some of them looked like they dated back to King Arther and his time. The knights shields were different from each other, one held a fire breathing dragon, another a star constellation, but one caught my attention the most, and even though I had to squint to see it, for the lighting in the bar was dim, also I was regrettably tipsy.
It took my breath away, little that I had in the smoke filled atmosphere. The shield was the size of a large poster, it cut straight across from the top, and then fell down in a V shape. The coloring was a rusty scarlet red, at the three corners were decorative gold plating, a thick black cross was tattooed from top to bottom. In the middle of the shield, was a central relief of a smaller gold shield and on that smaller shield was the picture of an English styled lion holding a ebony shield.
Goosebumps flew across my skin, and I suddenly had the feeling of being watched. Tearing my hazy hazel green eyes away from the bewitching shield, an occupied bar stool caught my attention.
It contained a strikingly handsome man, I couldn't help but stare at him; his ice blue eyes were the lightest eyes I have ever seen. The grim set of his chiseled jaw, lead my eyes to full enticing lips.
I had found my watcher.
His hair was a deep dark black brown, medium in length, looked feathery soft, his nose was Roman straight. He was breathtakingly beautiful, if a man could be beautiful, he sure could.
He wore dark jeans, a heather grey t-shirt and a leather bomber jacket. His shoulders were broad, and I'm positive his waist was narrow, a swimmers body. From how he was sitting, I could tell that he was at least 6'0 if not more, well muscled as far as I could tell.
I heaved a deep shuddering sigh, those ice cold blue eyes were stripping my bare, I couldn't look away, like I really wanted to.
The Feathered Hat's obnoxiousness noise and it's occupants were drowned out, Foreigner's; “Waiting for a girl like you.” was the last thing I heard before the roaring waves rushed over me.
I crossed and uncrossed my legs unconsciously, my breathing rushed and ragged, to my utter astonishment a fire spread deep in my belly.
The dark stranger smiled an all-knowing smile, showing perfect gleaming white teeth, he raised his glass of red wine in salute to me, I watched mesmerized as he drank the chilled liquid, a drop dribbled from the corner of his covetable mouth, I was very tempted to rush over and lick it clean.
I shook myself mentally, was I going crazy or something? Wanting to lick a complete stranger?
My iced tea was set down in front of me along with my bill.
I was suddenly brought back to the present, the bar had gotten louder if that were possible. My throbbing head, pulsated in time with one of AC\DC's hits, that's when you know it's time to go home.
Taking one last swallow of my little number, I paid my tab and regretfully stole a glance at the dark haired stranger. To my disappointment he was gone, maybe I had dreamed him up?
That explanation seemed likely, until I spotted the empty wine glass, I had another sudden impulse to go over and put the goblet to my lips, hoping for one last drop so I could have a small taste of him.
My subconscious swam with thoughts of how he would taste; woodsy, sweet, masculine, sexy, damn fine.
Again I was abruptly brought back to the real world, this time by my cell phone going crazy in my little satin clutch purse.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I took out the vibrating Blackberry, it was a text from my sister.
Call immediately! Emma.
that last word just made me sound like some weirdo lady from western days 
