Let's get to know Morgan, via my favorite questions in the style of Inside The Actor's StudioI.
Morgan D'Arcy: Writing. Linda seems to enjoy it so much I’m intrigued. Putting words on a blank page to create a picture, to establish a different world, and to immerse the reader of those words in ‘the willing suspension of disbelief’ seems well worth the time and effort,
PL: If you were reincarnated as some plant or animal, what would it be and why?
MD: The horse, most definitely. They are very spiritual creatures, proud and swift. I’ve never met an ugly horse. If a horse is mean spirited, it usually is a refection on his training or treatment at the hands of his human handler. I’ve always enjoyed a good connection with horses, even though in the movies vampires frighten the animals. I have several horses in my stables. I love the Friesian breed, but my favorite is the Andalusian and the Portuguese version of the Iberian horse, the Lusitano.
PL: Who are your favorite fictional heroes or heroines?
MD: Isabeau and me. No, that’s a difficult question to answer. There are quite a few competitors. For a hero, I guess I’d had to say Legolas in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. For the heroine, I’ve given it much thought and I still must say Isabeau Gervase. Besides the fact that I love her, she is a brilliant geneticist, a beautiful woman—inside and out—and witty as well as courageous. After all, she lives with me, and I’m the most frightening creature in any room. 😊
PL: If you had a free day with no responsibilities and your only mission was to enjoy yourself, what would you do?
MD: If I had a day, I’d spend it at the beach. I did that once. The story of my day in the sun (after becoming a vampire) is told in “Sunrise, Sunset” in an anthology of stories about my life and loves titled Morgan D’Arcy: A Vampyre Rhapsody. The story of my day at the beach is told in “Sunrise, Sunset”.
PL: Are you lucky?
MD: At the moment, I’d have to say unlucky. See above. Hopefully, when Linda Nightingale finishes Sinners’ Obsession, the sequel to Sinners’ Opera—our love story, Isabeau’s and mine, I will be a lucky man.
PL: What do you worry about when you wake up at 3 in the morning?
MD: Since my clock is opposite to yours, I sleep days, and vampire slumber is coma-like, I’ll have to answer hypothetically. If I were to wake up at 3 AM, I’d worry about what I worry about when I wake at sunset. How to tell the woman I love, and the mother of my miracle child, that she is pregnant with vampire’s child. Not her ex-fiance as she suspects. And that there is something terribly wrong with the child. Human DNA and vampire DNA is a perilous mix.
PL: What would you most like to hide?
MD: That I am that most feared creature—a concert pianist. No, seriously, I am forbidden by The Masquerade to reveal my true nature—that of a vampire. Do you have any idea how it is to always have to be someone else, Sometimes, the urge to tell someone what not who I am overcomes me. I’ve told many a victim my real name the instant before they died in my arms
PL: What are your hopes for the future?
MD: It is my sincere desire that Isabeau, our child, and I will be together.
PL: What motto do you live your life by?
MD: From a bumper sticker no less, “I tried to contain myself, but I escaped.” Except when I traveled—not necessarily because we wanted to—with the Wandering Prince (King Charles II) during his exile, I have always known a life of great privilege, but since 1659, it has also been a life of dark secrets. Just once I’d like to emerge as who I am to the world.
PL: Thank you for stopping by, Morgan. If our readers have any questions for him or Linda, please place ask them in the comment section.
In the Battle of Worcester, I’d been caught in the blood bath at Sidbury Gate, fighting at my King’s side as Cromwell’s soldiers overwhelmed us. In hand to hand combat, you can see the color of your enemy’s eyes. In war, madness consumes you. The same madness, the same lust for blood seized me. My eyes narrowed, heart hammering. I felt light and lethal. Honed to killing fury, I charged him. He mounted a defense, but I pressed my advantage.
Sparks zinged off metal. The flashing blades blurred, both swords shivering with the force of our attacks. He cut at my head. I dived beneath his guard to gash his side, punching his face with the basket hilt as he retreated. Through the music room, we danced our deadly dance, snarling through bared fangs. Eyes flaming crimson, I waltzed him back until he crashed against the French doors. He kicked backwards, shattering wood and glass, and turned in a flash, loading his next strike with his entire weight.
Lighter but stronger, I swung the cutting edge of my blade up with vampire force. Our weapons clashed on the ring of metal and shattered, shards peppering us. The older blade broke at the hilt. I was left with a ragged length a foot long. I feinted, lunged and drove the broken sword into his heart, jerked it free. A geyser of blood sprayed me. Like a curse, I followed him as he dropped to his knees to whisper in his ear, “Patientia ut victum.”
Sufferings of the conquered. Laughing, I materialized on my feet. He vaulted over the balcony railing, landing on the grass without a sound. I followed, swinging my weapon as my feet touched the ground, catching him beneath the chin with the flat of the blade.
“Immortality ends here.” I enunciated each word.
Captain d’Alembert was staring into my eyes when I relieved him of his head. I tossed the pitiful remainder of the sword I’d carried into the final battle of the English Civil War beside the corpse, kicking my enemy’s bloody skull into the fragrant gardenias. Ah, well, nothing lasts forever, even Eternity.
“You should have quit while you were a head.”
Closing my eyes, I listened to the hiss of the fountain and drank in the clean, normal smells of the garden. As dawn leached the night pale, I hurried inside to safety but risked a glance over my shoulder to watch my old enemy crumble to dust and drift away on the sea breeze. The light sizzled on my skin, but I must see to Avery, tend him as he had always tended me. I lifted him from the blood congealed on the floor. Cradled like a child in my arms, I carried him to the light-proof master bedroom and laid him on the bed. He was deathly pale and looked so very old. My heart ached for the time that had passed, and I hadn’t noticed his youth slipping away.
“Avery.” I summoned him to light consciousness, enabling him to swallow.
His eyes opened, love and gratitude in their depths. I slit my wrist with a fang and fed him a second dose of the healing tonic. I returned him to sleep, collapsed in a chair to keep watch, but the Vampyre sandman is ruthless. Sleep as deep as the grave sucked me down into oblivion. I dreamed of evil, yellow eyes gazing ruthlessly at Isabeau.
Morgan D'Arcy is an English lord, a classical pianist, and a vampire. He has everything except what he desires most—Isabeau. As the Angel Gabriel he's steered her life and career choice, preparing her to become Lady D'Arcy.
Many forces oppose Morgan's daring plan—not the least of which is Vampyre law. Isabeau Gervase is a brilliant geneticist. Though she no longer believes in angels, she sees a ticket to a Nobel Prize in Gabriel's secrets—secrets that have led her to a startling conclusion. Gabriel isn't human, and she fully intends to identify the species she named the Angel Genome. Morgan is ready to come back into Isabeau's life, but this time as a man not an angel. Will he outsmart his enemies, protect his beloved and escape death himself? For the first time in eternity, the clock is ticking.