HER POV
How long before the vibrant rock star tired of her? How long before she’d be left behind with nothing as she’d been so many times as a child bouncing between foster homes. She had learned to never get attached. Not ever. Because it would all eventually be taken away in a flash.

 

HER POV
She watched him silently, studying his features deep in concentration, and was hit with a tide of woefulness. He’d had that exact same face in the studio. No longer Cass St-Amand, charmer rock star adored by the masses with the fast smile and twinkle in the eye, but Cass the artist. Deep into his creations with the serious expression on the well-cut jaw.

Cass, her one-time lover. 

And now the father of her baby. She couldn’t deny the feelings she still had for him. Couldn’t forget how he’d made her laugh, had made everything lighthearted and easy when he’d been around.

But being strongly attracted to her baby’s father was not part of her plans. 

 

HIS POV
She had cried. And she was scared. Not just of the people after her, but with the idea that he could leave her behind. 

As if. 

He was with her all the way.

 

HIS POVS
“Oh, Cass, come on.” Her expression eased and she tilted her head to the side. “You told me you never wanted to settle down.”

“I did?”

“Yes, don’t you remember?” She caught his gaze in a firm, decisive look. “When you told me of your brother leaving Montreal to follow his girlfriend in New England. You said that what you love about your life is the lack of responsibilities, the constant traveling, doing exactly what you want.”

He glared at her, his teeth clenched. “I am not letting you raise our child alone.” 

“I’m not giving you a choice.” Her jaw was tight, her brows furrowed. “And you don’t even believe it’s yours.”

 

FIRST LINES (HER POV)
Bell Center, Montreal, Québec

October, Present Time

 

Mathilda Ethel Davenport! Come on, girl. Tilly chided herself in the chilly, autumn night as she cradled her pregnant belly under the stark streetlights behind the Montreal Bell Center. It’s his child. He’s the only one who can keep you safe.

She rallied the courage she needed to dive into the horde of Cass St-Amand’s adoring fans waiting outside to catch a peek at their favorite rock star after his show. 

The midnight air was crisp around her, the wind picking up a few dead maple leaves littering the concrete sidewalk. Yet the fall breeze did little to dilute the mixed scent of cheap perfume and body odor emanating from the boisterous mob awaiting their idol to exit the concert venue.

Standing amidst the downtown glass skyscrapers and centuries-old stone buildings, most of Cass’s superfans were not yet twenty-five, sporting jeans, leather jackets, or bodycon dresses under tiny coats.

Tilly winced and rubbed her belly once more. Her little munchkin was his baby alright. Conceived in the middle of a frigid winter, exactly thirty-six weeks ago today. 

Would he believe it was his? Vampires, even immortal ones, did not father children. 

Except that Cass had chosen to spend those few fateful nights not with just any woman, but a supernatural one—Tilly was a banshee. 

One who walked with Death. Everything was possible.

She bit the inside of her mouth at the task ahead of her.

He had no idea she was pregnant with his child. How would he react?

He would have to acknowledge he was the father. But she’d cross that bridge when she’d get there. For now, she just had to reach him.

 

INTERVIEW WITH A VAMPIRE – Cass St-Amand
“How was your show, Cass?” Somehow, I managed to get rock-star vampire Cass St-Amand all alone so I can ask him a few questions.

“Hey, how did you get in here,” he asks, looking up from his single-malt scotch in the private lounge of the Grand-Montreal hotel. 

The full-length window of the elegant space opens to the night Montreal cityscape lit bright behind him, and he looks right at home here, with that superstar persona of his in dark jeans, vintage band t-shirt under his black sport jacket.

“I’m the author,” I tell him. “I can do what I want.”

“Oh right. You wrote all this mess I find myself in right now.” He fiddles with the silver Celtic cross at his neck, which I know he received from his mother as a child in the seventeenth century. 

I know I created him, but he’s more impressive in person. The dark hair a little too long, the strong jaw, and the soulful brown eyes are as I imagined, but it’s the energy he possesses I hadn’t quite understood. That vibrant, inspired creative force that lay behind the sexy celebrity. 

Like his brothers, he truly is a force of nature, but his comes from deep inside his soul. No one can make music like he does. Music that touches you straight to the core, jabbing right at your emotions.

“How’s Griff?” I ask him. His brother was just here with him, having a beer. “Did he help you with your current problem.”

“My problem, yeah.” Cass frowned. “I guess you can call having an old flame showing up pregnant with your baby a problem.”

“So, it’s still a blow.” 

He rakes his walnut locks back. “I don’t know, Madame. What if it isn’t mine?”

“You don’t believe her.” 

He takes a swig of his scotch. “She’s not a liar.” 

“I didn’t think she was,” I said.

“No, she’s a straight shooter. No nonsense. That’s why I fell for her.”

“That fast? You were only with her for a week or so.” I know Tilly and Cass had a passionate affair just about eight months ago.

“We were together for ten days.”

“Recording your last album.”

“The Resurgence album.” He smiles and I see the pride in his eyes. “Yeah. I’m making a big international comeback.”

“With Tilly mixing your tracks.”

“She’s the best sound engineer there is.” He nodded with certainty. “And I’ve worked with many over the decades.”

“You respect her.”

“Oh hell, I do.” He sits back in the marron leather club chair. “She sees right through me, you know.”

“I know. You have that façade with people, charming them everywhere you go. But she doesn’t always fall for it.”

“Yeah. She gets me.” He takes a breath. “The baby is mine. No doubts.”

“A vampire’s baby. That’s quite something.”

“I was not supposed to be able to father children,” he informs me. “But she’s a banshee. Turns out I can have a child with a banshee.”

“She who walks with Death.”

“Yeah. Crazy, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes, crazy,” I said, knowing what’s in store for him in the next couple of weeks. “Raising a child with your current lifestyle. You’re ready for that?”

“Nope. Not at all.” He looks troubled all of a sudden. “But I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Doesn’t look like you do,” I tell him. “Hold on. It’s going to be a rough ride.”

…

Find out how in A VAMPIRE’S STAR