Eric Northman some of our favorite book outfits ...

Just thought you needed some fun ;-)

Navy Blue Silk Boxers
Bk3 Club Dead
The next thing I knew, I was awake. I was tucked in the bed, lying on my back, my formerly beautiful dress removed. I was still wearing my beige lace underwear, which was good.
Eric was in the bed with
me, which was not. He was really making a habit of this. He was lying on his side, his arm draped over me, one leg thrown over mine. His hair was tangled with my hair, and the strands were almost indistinguishable, the color was so similar. I contemplated that for a while, in a sort of misty, drifting state.
Eric was having downtime. He was in that absolutely immobile state into which vampires retreat when they have nothing else to do. It refreshes them, I think, reduces the wear and tear of the world that ceaselessly passes them by, year after year, full of war and famine and inventions that they must learn how to master, changing mores and conventions and styles that they must adopt in order to fit in. I pulled down the covers to check out my side. I was still in pain, but it was greatly reduced. There was a large circle of scar tissue on the site of the wound. It was hot and shiny and red and somehow glossy.
"It's much better," Eric said, and I gasped. I hadn't felt him rouse from his suspended animation.
Eric was wearing silk boxers. I would have figured him for a Jockey man.
"Thank you, Eric." I didn't care for how shaky I sounded, but an obligation is an obligation.
"For what?" His hand gently stroked my stomach.
"For standing by me in the club. For coming here with me. For not leaving me alone with all these people."
"How grateful are you?" he whispered, his mouth hovering over mine. His eyes were very alert now, and his gaze was boring into mine.
"That kind of ruins it, when you say something like that," I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. "You shouldn't want me to have sex with you just because I owe you."
"I don't really care why you have sex with me, as long as you do it," he said, equally gently. His mouth was on mine then.

Red bikini underwear
Bk 4 dead to the World
With not a hint of a leer or any other indication that he was enjoying this development, Eric shimmied out of the jeans. I tossed them onto the back porch to wash in the morning, trying not to gape at my guest, who was now clad in underwear that was definitely over-the-top, a bright red bikini style whose stretchy quality was definitely being tested. Okay, another big surprise. I'd seen Eric's underwear only once before-which was once more than I ought to have-and he'd been a silk boxers guy. Did men change styles like that?
Without preening, and without comment, the vampire rewrapped his white body in the afghan. Hmmm. I was now convinced he wasn't himself, as no other evidence could have convinced me. Eric was way over six feet of pure magnificence (if a marble white magnificence), and he well knew it.


Black Silk Pajama bottoms
Bk 7 All Together Dead
I slapped him harder than I've ever hit anyone in my life. I screamed, "Get up!" until my voice would hardly work. Finally Eric stirred and managed to sit up. He was wearing black silk pajama bottoms, thank God, and I spied the ceremonial black cloak tossed over his coffin. He hadn't returned it to Quinn, which was huge luck. I arranged it over him and fastened it at the neck. I pulled the hood over his face. "Cover your head!" I yelled, and I
heard a burst of noise above my head: shattering glass, followed by shrieks.