💛 A (Not So) Vampiric Debate

You start reading, and find yourself back in the audience of my talk show. This time, you're surrounded by characters from my books.

Dr. Ash Reddy, the vampire scientist and creator of fuzzies from my book Minnie by Mia Harlan, is seated to your left. He's wearing large noise-cancelling headphones, and after giving you a sniff, he puts on a nose plug.

"Hey! I don't smell," you snap at him. You also wonder why I made him one of Minnie's men, when the guy is such a massive jerk.

He grimaces. "It's not you, it's me. Crap, that didn’t come out right. I’m not trying to use that breakup line people say when they’re being dishonest." He runs a hand through his hair. "I meant it literally. I'm a newly turned vampire. Don't worry, I won't bite you, I swear.” He watches you like you’re a wild animal who might bolt. When you don’t, he adds. “Since the turn, smells and sounds have become too much to bear."

You decide not to take his nose plug to heart, tell him it's okay—twice, the second time a little louder, since those are quality headphones—and then turn to your left.

"Hi," the coffee monster growls. He's seven feet tall, made entirely of coffee beans, and he smells delicious.

"Stop sniffing me," he growls. "I get enough of that bullshit from Mia."

"Sorry." You lean back in your seat. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Mia's fantasy..." he sighs. "She combined her love of weird shifters and coffee, and here I am. Waiting.”

“For what?” you ask.

He shrugs his huge shoulders. “For Mia to put me in a book, I guess.”

“And she hasn’t?”

He scratches his arm, and a coffee bean pops off, clattering to the ground. A few seconds later, a new one forms in its place. You gape at it as he says, "She plans to. But she’s back to working on Minnie. She really wants to finish book 2 and she keeps telling me she doesn't have time for intrusive coffee monsters."

"Sorry, buddy.” You pat his huge, muscular, coffee-bean arm, resisting the urge to pick off a coffee bean. The rough texture of his skin is kind of nice, too, and that’s some great bicep he’s got there.

He growls and I appear in front of you. "Would you please stop groping my coffee monster and come on stage already? Everyone's waiting for you!"

That's when you realize that instead of 'The Mia Show' the sign has your name. The stage is decorated in your favorite colors. The host seat is empty. And Eva is sitting in one of the guest seats, dressed in a red tail coat with silver buttons and dark leggings.

I snap my fingers, and reappear on the couch next to her. I'm wearing a red leather jacket over a floor-length black dress.

"You both look like vampires," you mutter under your breath.

"What was that?" I demand.

"Nothing." You snap your fingers, aiming to appear on stage, but nothing happens. "Fine, I'll just walk on stage, even though everyone else can apparently teleport."

You're still grumbling as you try to squeeze past the coffee monster, trip, and land on his lap. His delicious smell envelops you, and you take a deep breath before you remember he asked you to stop sniffing him. Oops.

"Oh, come on," I shout, jumping to my feet. "First, you're feeling him up, and now you're practically climbing him like a tree. At this rate, I’m going to have to write him into a book, and I don’t have time for that! I need to finish Minnie by the end of January. It’s already been too long.”

Eva stands up and grabs my shoulders. “Breathe, Mia. Breathe,” she reminds me, and I suck in air. I don’t have an actual deadline. I’m just putting unnecessary pressure on myself. Everything’s going to be alright.

I snap my fingers and you appear on stage in the host's chair.

Everyone in the audience cheers, and a script appears on the teleprompter for you to read.

"And we're back with Mia Harlan and Eva Delaney, who are here for a very vampiric debate."

"It should be a Very Vampiric Vent,” Chase—who writes romance under a pseudonym—calls out from the audience.

“Actually, 'debate' is the accurate term,” Dr. Ash Reddy, the scientist, interjects.

“But vent starts with a V,” Chase says.

“And debate starts with a D?” Ash says.

Chase nods. “Exactly. Alliterations always sound better.”

“They often do,” Violet, the librarian, agrees.

Ash pulls out his phone. “A debate is a structured discussion on a particular topic, typically involving opposing arguments presented systematically.” He waits for several seconds, waiting for Chase to concede. “A vent is an expression or release of a strong emotion,” he adds, frustration seeping into his voice, “which is not what we’re doing here.”

“Actually…” you start to say.

“Very Vampiric Valedictory?” Chase suggests.

"A valedictory is a farewell address," Ash snaps. His fangs pop out and he sucks in air before popping them back in.

“How about a Very Vampiric Verbalization?” Violet jumps in.

“Good one, Vi,” her mate and library assistant, Nole, grins.

Ash’s eyes take on a red tint. “We are not here for a verbalization. We’re here for a debate.”

“Sounds more like we’re here for a vent,” Chase fires back.

Ash hisses at him, and you turn to me.

"Mia,” you ask, “why is everyone so… so…” You wave your hand vaguely, trying to find the right word.

“Annoyed? Grumpy? Short-tempered?” I suggest, glad Ash is too busy scowling at Chase to notice my own inaccurate use of vocabulary. “It’s because I’m exhausted. I've been getting up every day at 5am.”

“That’s when I go to sleep,” Eva chimes in.

“Why?” you ask.

I roll my eyes. “Because she’s a vampire.”

“Am not,” Eva cries. “Your husband’s the vampire.”

“We’ll have time for all that when we start our…” you trail off again, unsure if it’s safe to call it a debate or a verbalization. You can’t think of any other V words that might work. “I was asking why you get up at 5am, Mia.”

“Oh, that. It’s so I have time to write before my Mini Mortal is awake. I tried writing after she goes to bed, but I’m always too exhausted. And I’ve got a full-time job, so writing during the day isn’t an option.” I shrug. “Getting up at 5am works… or it would if I could get enough sleep. But going to bed early has been such a struggle.” I sigh. “And because I'm in a mood, none of my characters seem to get along. I’m just so tired!”

I glance at the temptation that is my coffee monster and moan.

"You're making me uncomfortable,” he says.

I lick my lips.

"Um, let's get back to the show," you say quickly, turning to the teleprompter. “But first, a commercial break?” You frown. “Again? We haven’t even started the debate!”

“I could use a nap,” I explain.

“A nap doesn’t sound bad,” Eva agrees.

You throw your hands up in surrender. “Fine. Bring out the commercial break.”

“When three sinfully hot bakers,” a deep, sexy male voice echoes through the auditorium, “pin you against their kitchen counter… And tell you they're pastry shifters who need a mate... But only after they make you taste every inch of them.”

The words “Her Pastry Shifters by Mia Harlan” appear on the screen behind you, along with some bookstore options, including: Amazon. Kobo. Apple books. Nook. Google Play.

“Do their cocks taste like pastries?” Eva asks. “All the yum with none of the calories?”

Before I can reply, everything around you fades. Which is how you find yourself in front of your screen, thinking about pastries and wondering if we’ll ever get to the actual debate—also, if you happen to be one of those rare mythical creatures who go to bed early, you consider leaving me some sage advice.