MADE OF STARS — CHAPTER ONE

ABOUT THE BOOK: A genius vampire named Sinclair creates an
alternate world where vampires can experience a traditional human life of love,
marriage, and children. Sixteen-year-old Gabriel is Sinclair's beta tester and
volunteers to fall in love with a coffee shop girl. But when the pain of love
becomes overwhelming, Gabriel wonders about his decision. "It's too
real," he tells Sinclair. "You made it too real."
Watch for all seven chapters to be posted here. Can't wait to read the whole thing?
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Made of Stars Chapter 1 Lila The jon boat glides through black water, the paddle hitting aluminum with a hollow sound.  If anyone were to ask, I would say that I am heading for a secret place, to an island located in the middle of a shallow river with no name.   I would say that this is the kind of thing a curious girl will do—take a boat through the dark night of a Louisiana swamp.  As I paddle, I recall a beautiful boy with pale skin and circles under his eyes who came into the café where I work and slipped me his business card. On the front was a picture of a swampy island, a clearing, and a campfire.  On the back of the card was a map.  Now rumor has it that very few people are ever issued invites to the secret island, and those who are invited visit and never return.  So why am I going? This question I cannot answer, but here I am, dressed in unfamiliar clothes: skinny black jeans, a black T-shirt, black boots, and purple hair.  A Goth Nancy Drew. I see lights and hear music before I hit land. And then the boat is sliding up the grassy bank to come to a jerking halt.I step out and drag the small craft from the water.“You came.”It’s the pale boy, the one who gave me the card, and he’s appeared out of nowhere, as if he’s been watching for me, waiting for me.  I think about the small handgun I keep in my boot, and the mace in my pocket. I’m not sure it will be enough to protect me. Maybe I need a cross.  And holy water.  And garlic.  Haha.He reaches out and takes my hand.  “I’ll lead the way. It’s hard to see.”That’s the truth. I don’t know how he can tell where we’re going, because I can’t see what’s underfoot, but I let him lead me toward the music and the lights. This is a dream. I suddenly realize that this is a dream. Of course. It makes no sense that I’ve come here by myself. It makes no sense that I’ve come at all.  And a gun. Where did I get a gun? So it has to be a dream.  And since it’s a dream, I can let it unfold without question.Yes. Now I remember. At the café.  He handed me the business card.  I held it, and I regarded the image.  The island. And as I looked, the fire began to move. And when I turned the card to examine the map, I was suddenly in the boat, on the river with no name, heading toward the secret island. Yes, a dream.And now the pale boy is holding my hand, and I am following. Two girls have come to the island before me, and two girls have vanished. I think this is true. I think this really happened. Maybe this is a vision quest, a dream that will lead me to an answer.  Maybe later I will tell the police what happened to the girls.  The pale boy hands me a drink. “Is this blood?” I ask, lifting the glass and trying to examine the contents in the light falling from a house with tall windows.  He laughs. “It’s wine. Don’t tell me you believe all that vampire stuff.”“Well…”“If that’s what you think, why did you come?”I could hardy say I’d had no choice. I could hardly tell him this was a dream, because I would then be pointing out that he wasn’t real. “The business card,” I begin as way of explanation.“Did you like that? It wasn’t easy for the clan to create a doorway card. It’s still in the beta stage, so I was surprised when I saw you coming across the river. I didn’t know if it would work.  But you’re here. I’m glad.”I sip the wine and watch him over the edge of my glass.  “Did I have any choice?” I wonder aloud.“It’s like hypnosis,” he says. “You can’t be made to do anything you don’t want to do. Which is why I’m extra surprised to see you. It means you wanted to come. You wanted to see me.” He smiles, and it doesn’t bother me that the mouth behind his teeth looks black. Maybe it’s just the light.  And it doesn’t bother me that his skin is cold and as smooth as marble. And it doesn’t bother me that he smells of moss and mildew and damp earth. I rather like it. And I like the softness of his voice, and I like the shimmer of his blond hair, the long length of his legs, the fragile strength of his arms. I drink the wine. Even though I know it’s more than wine, I drink it.  Because I know it will open another door, and that door will take me to a deeper understanding of the pale boy.  I fall through a dark hole, and in that hole our lives intertwine. We marry, we have sex, we have children born under a black moon. The pale boy knows me and I know him, and twenty years unfold in one glass, a road that unrolls in front of me and rolls up behind me as I walk, every experience ephemeral and fleeting.An intrusive sound seeps in.  A ring that indicates an order is up.  And suddenly I’m standing in the coffee shop behind the cash register, and the pale boy is on the other side of the counter, and I’m holding the business card as if he’s just given it to me seconds ago. I look at the card. Just a photo of a campfire. I turn it over. Just a crude map.“For the jar,” he says.I look at him blankly.  He nods toward the fishbowl of business cards.“Oh.”  I drop it inside.  “How often do you have a drawing?” he asks.  And I recall the way his skin felt under my fingertips, and the way his hair smelled as it fell against my face. “Every Monday,” I say.He smiles, and his smile is intimate.   As if he knows me. “Good. I’ll have a new card next week.”