I’m not freaking out at all by this bizarre coincidence. In December 2011, British model Paddy Mitchell inspired me to write an 18th century paranormal romance short story entitled A Dark Scandal. I think he’s beautiful and should be forever young, so an idea for a vampire story popped into my head. I had shared it for free on deviantART. Some of you may have read it. I penned a character after him named Micah, who’s a thousand-year-old vampire and descendant of a fallen angel. Anyway, I didn’t almost die when I saw that Paddy had dressed up like a vampire for Halloween. No, I really didn’t. I was totally calm. 
Photo courtesy of Paddy’s Instagram
One innocent glance in Micah’s direction, and he stepped out of the shadows and broke the facade he had worn all night. He and Sybil locked gazes across the room, and in that single moment, the vampire could no longer keep his distance.
He made his way toward her, his stride casual and lazy. He didn’t want her to sense his anxiety. Micah was a master at masking his emotions and hiding his true intentions, so to others, he appeared to simply admire the scenery. He felt her gaze on him, and his fangs tingled inside of the sheath of his gums. After pretending to stare at a portrait on the wall, he took a few more steps in her direction. She turned her head, and he moved beside her.
“My congratulations again, Mrs. Warrington.” An upper-class accent perfected over centuries laced his velvety baritone voice.
Sybil gasped softly, her dainty hand flying to her bosom. Micah heard her racing heart, and smiled. To say he was charming was an understatement. He stood over six feet tall with a strong build. His bronze hair shone under the crystal chandelier like spun silk.
“Are you enjoying the evening, my lady?”
Micah intensified his gaze, but not too strong to make her apprehensive. His gums tingled again when a blush crept up her neck and tinted her cheeks a rosy hue. The blood that had rushed beneath her skin smelled like sweet honeysuckle, and his fangs finally unsheathed behind his closed lips.
He wasn’t surprised to hear her breathless. “Yes, thank you, my lord. How are you faring tonight? Did you enjoy Francis’ recital?”
All Sybil knew of Lord Micah Angelus was from rumors and town gossip. She had never spoken to him about his personal life. Others told her he was a young aristocrat, orphaned as a boy, but inherited a fortune making him wealthier than the Warrington’s. He traveled extensively, and occasionally, he conducted business with the Duke of Kingsbury. His home, Kentwood Castle, was so magnificent that it rivaled the monarchy’s home. He was a bachelor, but had many people living with him who were not his blood relatives. The most mysterious of all—people only saw him after dusk.
Micah still battled with his sexual excitement for this human female, so he spoke with caution. The last thing he wanted was to reveal his sharp elongated canines.
“Yes, but…” He leaned down and whispered only for her ears. “…not as much as I enjoyed watching you.” His gaze darted to her jugular vein that carried the rich crimson nectar he craved.
Sybil swallowed thickly, her eyes wide. With Micah so close, she noticed his flawless ivory skin and bright azure eyes. Her eyes lingered for a moment on his lips. They looked sinful to kiss, and the color reminded her of plump cherries ripe for picking in summer. In awe of his angelic immaculacy, she struggled with her composure. She laughed lightly, but her trembling hand betrayed her true emotions as she touched the auburn curls on her head.
Micah stifled a growl of pleasure when her voice provided the one sound he wanted to hear all night. When he pulled back, a seductive grin lay bare on his handsome face.
