Showing posts with label vampire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vampire. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Draven's Crossing: Mind Games by Diana DeRicci
Draven's Crossing II
Diana DeRicci
ISBN 978-1-936165-74-2
Word Count: 26997
PDF Page Count: 75
Heat Index: Erotic
Does this book contain violence? Yes
Genre(s): Erotic Romance/ M/M/ Vampire
http://purplesword.com/
From out of the darkness, a voice calls, luring one man into a battle of the unknown.
Jackal has lived a well-guarded secret his entire life. A being of immense power, he understands and accepts the loss and emptiness of never finding a soul to love, yet endures because it is his only path. Eternal life means none who walk the earth could comfort him for long.
The only one who could understand his plight has lived for just as long: a vampire. Taken by surprise and tortured, Kristof's agony pulls Jackal to him in the dream realm, forging a bond that is unexpected and unexplained.
But now that they've connected, will the darkness that hunts all para-kind in Draven's Crossing destroy them?
Excerpt:
Jackal tossed on the bed. Where are you? Silence echoed in the dream realm. He shouldn't even be looking. He'd tried to restrain the need, but it had eaten at him, decimating his willpower in miniscule bites. The vampire he'd saved was alive. It was enough.
Or it should have been.
Jackal let himself be drawn outward, pulled by some force he'd never been able to fight. He knew the other man was out there. His own sleep had been restless the last few nights. Whether Kristof was trying or not, he was looking for Jackal too, only he didn't know who or what he was.
Maybe I should leave it that way?
He drew a slow breath, conscious of the action, feeling the motion of his physical self lying in bed.
Gradually, the dream realm shifted, shapes and sounds swirling and coalescing on the edges of his vision. It took him by surprise when the movement of his vision slowed, then focused into the common space of a living room. Nighttime shadows created hollows in the fabric of the living world.
Though it wasn't the shadows that captured his attention.
It was the man resting in the chair before him. The sight of his features sent little shocks through Jackal. He dared to reach out for him.
Kristof?
Black as midnight, his piercing eyes snapped open. The weight of the silence between them was a physical curtain. Jackal shouldn't be there. Kristof was still in Draven's Crossing. He could easily run across him as it was. He didn't need to be tempting fate, or any other cruel twisted bitch by facing Kristof again in the dream world. Jackal began to fade, to retreat to his own mental doorways.
“Wait!”
He stopped, as much as he could remain in his corporeal sense. Kristof stood. “You are real?”
Jackal nodded. “I shouldn't be here, but I had to see…”
Kristof lifted a hand as though to touch Jackal's face, but his palm went right through the shape of Jackal's jaw. How he craved that touch!
“Why can I see you?”
“Because I am letting you. Most would never see me beyond their dreams.” Or after.
“You're a true dream walker?”
Jackal laughed, though it was silent. “Among other things.”
“Come to me,” Kristof demanded. “I know you were there, not a dream.”
“I can't. I broke the rules. Then and now.” Better to resist. Jackal wanted to succumb all too easily to the compelling order of the man standing in front of him.
Kristof neared and Jackal wanted to feel his body's heat.
“Broke them how?”
“Then isn't important. Now, by returning.” By reaching for him, by interfering again. By needing. Jackal trembled and wondered if it was his physical or his corporeal self doing it.
Kristof shook his head. “I will find you.” Something tender was woven in those words. Was it possible? Could he feel something? Jackal pulled back from that thought faster than as if he'd tried to touch a hot flame.
Jackal wished he would find him. He couldn't deny the magnetic attraction tugging him in Kristof's direction like a rope tied around his waist with the end in his strong and capable hands.
“Don't.”
A heat blazed in Kristof's bottomless eyes at the denial. “You can't stop me from coming to you.”
Jackal realized Kristof was right. Physically, he couldn't stop him. He lowered his lashes, feeling the increase of his heartbeat in his body back in that bed. So many reactions, so many sensations. Jackal felt engulfed in them.
“I have taken your blood. I can find you.” His tone was gentler, but no less determined.
“Find me if you will, if you can, Kristof. I can't help, but if you can find me…” He didn't dare finish the thought. The resolve in his rich, husky voice made him tingle. He had no idea if the rules were being broken, or if someone else's reactions would come back to him. Kristof was a new experience for him.
The vampire neared until he stood right against where Jackal would be in his own skin. “Tell me your name. Leave me that much tonight.”
Rising to meet this man's eyes, Jackal twitched in the bed. Why you, Kristof? What makes you different? This man made Jackal want. He'd felt attraction, but want like this…? Desire? He felt like he was burning with it.Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Draven's Crossing: Tempestuous Cravings by Selena Illyria
Selena Illyria
ISBN 978-1-936165-68-1
Word Count: 44,931
PDF Page Count: 114
Heat Index: Erotic
Does this book contain violence? Yes
Genre(s): Paranormal Erotic Romance/Vampire/ Interracial
Buy Link: http://purplesword.com/
Welcome to Draven's Crossing, where fantasies and nightmares walk among us…
Vampire Mayor Draven desires mortal Rose. Her rebuffs excite him. When she finally gives in to his advances, their coming together is explosive, and their passion is more than he could've anticipated.
But a serial killer divides his attention. Can he keep his town safe from this mysterious menace and convince Rose that they belong together despite her reservations?
As a new resident of Draven's Crossing, all Rose wants to do is her job. Draven could be a distraction she can't afford, but she can't ignore him or her arousal.
As a new resident of Draven's Crossing, all Rose wants to do is her job. Draven could be a distraction she can't afford, but she can't ignore him or her arousal.
His blood burned. Arousal slid up and down his spine, hardening his balls and causing his stomach to clench. Draven's cock pressed against the zipper of his slacks, making him uncomfortable. He wanted to adjust his position, but had no desire to draw attention to himself. Eyeing the woman doing the presentation, he remained with his ass pressed against the ledge of the desk and prayed for relief soon. Her nervousness tinged the air with wisps of a sour perfume.
“As you can see, this charity ball will not only be good for our image, but also allow you some leverage with the parties involved in the negotiation for equal rights.” She licked her lips, making her already glossy mouth shine. He nearly groaned aloud; slick, puffy, red lips. That mouth would look so fucking sweet around my cock.
Unable to resist, he shifted his position, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure he felt. Just as he thought, her gaze darted toward him and then back at the group sitting around his board table. In an act of nervousness, she smoothed down the plain tan jacket of her suit, which only drew attention to the outline of her breasts. Full, ripe mounds that he was sure would fit perfectly in his hands. He shifted again from one foot to the other. The pressure inside of him ratcheted up another notch.
Licking her lips again, she bent over, ducking her head as she rifled through some papers on the table. Corkscrew curls bounced and shook at the small movement. Draven wanted to thread his fingers through those silken strands, grab a handful, and pound into her from behind. His cock jumped. Desire sizzled along his nerve endings and created a wildfire through his veins.
“Miss Andrews, your idea is a good one, but charity balls don't exactly raise the revenue we're hoping for,” one of his advisors pointed out. “The fetes always seem more for the haves rather than the have-nots. How are we supposed to make this accessible to everyone?”
Switching to business mode, Draven nodded in agreement and watched her reaction through narrowed eyes. Her nervousness increased, drawing out the predator in him. He wanted that reaction; he wanted her to fear and want him. An image of chasing her down a long, dark corridor danced before him. Her fear mingled with desire as he chased her. He loved it.
The woman, whose name he hadn't caught when the meeting had started, smoothed her hands over a tight skirt that hugged her hips. A groan began in his chest. He squashed it, refusing to lose control, even though every cell in his body wanted to go to her, pull her out of the room and trace her figure with his hands before ripping off every stitch of clothing she wore. She licked her lips again. The groan returned, and he ignored it. Not yet, he admonished himself.
“That's why the ticket price will only be five dollars, affordable to everyone,” she answered.
“And the ad campaign?” another of his advisors asked.
“We'll have ads in every area of the city and on television,” she replied. She held her head high meeting his gaze. Confidence pushed away the earlier fear.
“As you can see, Rose has thought this plan through. If you read the information we passed out at the start of the meeting, you'll have all the ways we intend to reach our target audiences and what we hope to accomplish with the charity ball. We look forward to your call.” Rose's partner pushed back his chair and stood. It was clear that the meeting was over for him.
Rose, such a delicate name. I bet she has thorns to go with that beauty. Draven watched the scene play out. As usual, his advisors looked to him for guidance. He straightened, running his hands over his jacket, thankful that it was long enough to cover his erection. Focused on Rose, he stalked to the front of room.
“I'll say when this is over. After all, I'm the mayor of this town.” Allowing a bit of power to roll over the room, he watched her nostrils flare. The fear was back in the air, and he drank it in. Standing close to her, but not quite touching, he watched her body stiffen. Something sweet and musky joined in the sour aroma wafting off of her. He almost smiled. My little flower finds me attractive.
“It was a good presentation, and you certainly answered the questions. Rose was it?” He allowed her name to come out in a gruff purr. Pausing, he watched her reaction. Her pupils dilated. She moved nearer, but only a millimeter or so. Disappointment twined with satisfaction. He wanted her closer, but knew that wouldn't be possible. They were in a business setting, and there were people in the room with them. “Rose, you still haven't guaranteed me that any of the money put into this venture would be returned to us and then some. I need to show that I can make money for this town. Elections are coming up. I may be in the lead, but my opponent makes a good point: out-of-towners don't consider this a vacation spot. I need the hotels and motels booked up and the inns full. I need to cast a wider net with this, and all you've given me is local color.”
Draven invaded her personal space. If she allowed her fear to control her actions, she'd step back, and he would be disappointed. Rose didn't disappoint him. Tilting her head on a slim neck, she looked right into his eyes. No fear. Fuck, she's perfect. Very few people looked a vampire in the eyes. Especially not one as old as he was.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
New Release: Masquerade Crymsyn Hart
Soul Reaper Series I
Crymsyn Hart
ISBN 978-1-936165-61-2
Word Count: 82367
PDF Page Count: 239
Heat Index: Erotic
Does this book contain violence? Yes
Genre(s): Paranormal Erotic Romance/Vampire
Buy Link: http://purplesword.com/zencart/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=65
Even behind the mask, no one is what they seem.
Brenna has been in the shadows for years. Veronica has been trying to escape her ex forever. Each is living lives they never assumed would be theirs. Each is hiding behind a mask they never desired to wear.
True love has finally come to Brenna in the guise of Cain. Before she can fully realize her affections, her life is shattered by something that steps out of the darkness. This intrusion threatens her growing relationship.
Veronica stumbles into Brenna and her world is thrown upside down. Drawn to a woman she doesn't know. She sees Brenna's growing affection for Cain as a hindrance. She tries to warn Brenna that not all is what it seems. However, she doesn't want to listen and now danger is on their doorstep. Veronica's ex, Devon, has caught up with her.
Will Brenna and Veronica survive their ordeal? Will Devon come for them both? Or will all masks finally come off?
Excerpt:
My name is Brenna.
The heaviness of the atmosphere rolled around my tongue, lingering in my nose like a fine vintage of wine. It was a hot, humid day. Clothes stuck to every inch of skin, and a sane person hungered for a shower after the slightest exertion. Traces of spices and sweat clung to the fragrance of the day as exotic food was prepared on every corner. Even a hint of magic wafted on the day's aroma. Spells had been cast to bar intruders and ignite passionate love affairs.
As these scents carried me into consciousness, a slight breeze blew through the Quarter, pulling the bouquets of the day with it. My nostrils flared at the odor on the back of the wind: the wet, dark, musty smell of death and an oncoming storm. Death was part of the culture here, always lingering like the ghosts in the city. Rain came often, but never lasted more than an hour or so, making this place more like a tropical paradise than a bustling city. Even the downpours couldn't keep the sightseers from exploring the small shops, as well as admiring the balconied apartments in the Quarter. Many were small oases, housing lush plants, which allowed the inhabitants to escape from the cameras and voyeurs. I inhabited one of these sought-after lodgings, but kept the windows shuttered so the sun couldn't creep in and disrupt my slumber.
I rose, yawning as the heaviness of sleep had not yet left me. Darkness caressed my naked form while the whirling fan cooled my bare skin. Stretching, I urged my body to rise and face the night. I opened the shutters to see the sun painting hues of purple and pink in the hazy air, signaling the fast approaching blue-greens of twilight. I smiled. This was the scene that had greeted me for years. I flicked on the light. I shielded my eyes from the sudden illumination until my pupils adjusted.
I admired my body in the bureau mirror. The overhead lamp gave my milky skin a jaundiced tint that contrasted against the pink of my nipples. My appearance attracted both sexes; it was something in the pheromones. The sex of my partners didn't matter. I only wanted the ones who could fulfill my desire.
The jasmine-touched breeze danced through my apartment as the coolness of full night blossomed like a moonflower inside my chest. I stretched, now entirely awake as the sluggishness of the day fell away like a misty shroud. The moon's silvery light already warmed my skin. Its blaze had replaced the sun in my memories and the power of it ignited my heart, night after glorious night.
Staring at my body a moment longer, I realized tonight was not the night for me to turn into Narcissus and be captured by my own beauty. I had eons for that. My gums ached, and hollowness filled my insides. Tonight I'd dress to kill, so to speak. I donned a black velvet dress, black thigh-high stockings, and black Doc Martens.
My gaze fell on the things I would need to complete my disguise. A contact case and scattered makeup: everything I needed to fit in better. From the lot, my tarot cards called to me. I smiled, wondering what Fate had in store for me tonight. Mentally, I checked my schedule and knew I had no clients to read. No one to tell a husband was cheating, or a sickness was devouring them, or a fortune would be lost in the stock market.
I smirked at the thought of how easily I peered into the minds of my clients, divining their futures and reading their emotions. After one session, they always came back. I had a good reputation, unlike the phony psychics who lined Jackson Square. Hotel managers and local occult shops referred tourists to me. I loved unearthing secrets from my unsuspecting clients.
I studied the cobalt backs, admiring the golden stars. I had owned them for years. My right hand passed over the line of cards, automatically settling on one in the middle and then another at the end. Energy sparked between the cards and my palm. I pulled those two cards to see how the evening would progress and to give me a glimpse into the more distant future. The first card I flipped was the Lovers. It signified I would meet someone to spend eternity within the next couple of nights.
Yeah, right! I giggled, wondering who my next conquest would be.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
The Haunted Brothel Bret Jordan
Bret Jordan
ISBN 978-1-936165-60-5
Word Count: 17008
PDF Page Count: 67
Heat Index: Sweet
Does this book contain violence? No
Genre(s): Paranormal Mystery/ Comedy
Buy Link: http://purplesword.com/zencart/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=62
Can a football jock, cheerleader, stoner, techno-nerd, and lazy Bassett Hound come together and discover the mystery of The Haunted Brothel?
The Regent hotel is about to open as a ghost walk, packed with terrorizing special effects along with actors dressed as zombies, werewolves, and vampires. There's only one problem. The Regent seems to really be haunted. That's not a problem for a young group of ghost hunters. Nancy's the group's think tank and can solve mysteries in her sleep. If muscle is needed Tony is the young Adonis who's not only into heavy lifting, but also a big hit with the ladies. Tina is a paranormal investigator who is into Tony almost as much as she's into herself while their technician is a stoner with a Bassett Hound that can talk, though nobody else can hear his words. The Regent is their first assignment, and these young Paranormal Investigators will learn ghost hunting is scarier than it looks on television while they find out more about each other.
Excerpt:
Dwayne stood next to the stairs as the group climbed up and left him behind. He didn't mind. All this ghost stuff was stupid anyway. Dwayne only hung out with the group because he didn't have anything better to do, plus the van was pretty cool, two tone green with Paranormal Investigations Group painted on the side in black. It looked like a good place to smoke a little weed if he could get a moment or two by himself. Hell, a green two-tone van was made just for that purpose.
He smiled and scratched Randy behind the ears. Most dogs liked that, but Randy didn't seem to give a damn one way or the other. Lazy bastard. The dog had a lazy streak, but so did Dwayne. They had been together for two years, best of friends. Dwayne just wished everyone else could understand Randy as well as he could, though Randy didn't seem to talk much when other people were around. Dwayne figured Randy had a shyness about him. Of course sometimes Dwayne had trouble understanding the Bassett Hound, too. The dog seemed to make the most sense when Dwayne smoked a joint or two, and mushroom tea turned the animal into a blabbering idiot who not only talked incessantly, but also wore strange outfits. Dwayne couldn't ever figure where he got them from, and he only wore them when Dwayne drank mushroom tea. Maybe there was a connection. He would have to think on that.
Randy groaned as a dorky guy with a broom and bowl style haircut walked past. The fellow gave Dwayne a crooked smile, and he replied with a timid wave.
Mr. Krager called down from upstairs. The man cringed, tilted his head down to his feet and walked up the stairs and out of Dwayne's line of sight. The stairs creaked under his weight.
Dwayne scratched Randy's ears some more. “We're gonna have to find out where that guy gets his hair done and make sure never to go there.”
“Hey.”
Dwayne looked up and into the red eyes of a zombie. He screeched and tumbled backwards onto his butt. Randy groaned and squirmed as Dwayne's leg fell over the dog's back.
“Didn't mean to scare you.” The zombie giggled as it stuck its hand out to help Dwayne to his feet.
Dwayne decided that this was no ordinary zombie. First of all, the thing had boobs, not a bad trait for a rotting undead creature and something that he could certainly work with. Secondly the zombie had a pretty smile, thick lips and beautifully white teeth, not the type that one would sink into the living's neck
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
New Release: Bitten By Love
Crymsyn Hart ISBN 978-1-936165-58-2
Word Count: 28862
PDF Page Count: 87
Heat Index: Erotic
Does this book contain violence? Yes
Genre(s): Paranormal Erotic Romance/Vampire/Menage
Buy Link: http://purplesword.com/zencart/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=61
One touch is all it takes to ignite her passion.
Fey know their mates by touch. Griffon yearns to rejoin Zak, his mate, in the fey realm. Seven hundred years ago, Griffon was turned into a vampire. To ease his hunger he attacked a mated couple. For retribution, he was exiled to the human realm until he could find the one person who would break his curse.
Salina meets Griffon at the bookstore she works at. He flashes her a blinding smile and asks her to dinner. After dinner, he invites her back to his house, where she meets Zak, his lover. Drawn to both men, Salina doesn't know what to make of their attentions especially when Griffon reveals his true nature.
Will Salina give in to her attraction to both men? Or will she succumb to Griffon's curse?
Excerpt:
She heard sounds coming from a couple of doorways down from the bathroom. Creeping up slowly, she peeked in the door. Both men were in a tight embrace. She saw Zak's expression locked in ecstasy in the mirror behind them. Griffon had one hand wrapped around his shoulder cradling his neck lovingly. The other was at the small of his back, his fingers splayed on the top of Zak's ass. Griffon's lips were fastened to his neck. Griffon's eyes were closed, and he was drinking greedily from his lover's throat. Salina was transfixed at the sight. After a second of watching them, it occurred to her she was seeing something intimate between the two lovers. Everything in her told her to turn and give them privacy, but she couldn't tear her gaze away.
“More, Griffon.” Zak moaned, exasperated.
Griffon clutched onto his ass and pulled Zak into him more. He must have sensed her, because he opened his eyes and locked them with hers. He didn't break the gaze, but began to suck. It seemed she could feel each pull Griffon took from him. Her body rocked in time with his sucking. She clutched the doorframe hard. Her breathing intensified the longer she watched. The pleasure was cresting inside of her. She was getting wetter. She clenched her thighs together. A gush of wetness dampened her panties. A strangled cry left her lips. Finally he looked away, but not before she noticed a slight curling up of his lips in a sneer. When he broke the staring contest, she dashed down the hall and ran into the kitchen trying to catch her breath. Whatever connection they had made was beyond words. She clasped the kitchen sink and turned the faucet on. Flinging her glasses off, she splashed the water on her skin, glad to find it was as cold as it was in the bathroom. She took additional handfuls and gulped them down. When she was done, she bowed her head, trying to stop the lightheaded feeling that had come upon her. But it only got worse.
Hands were trailing up her sides, gently, delicately. Hot breath blasted against her neck. She felt lips playing over her throat. Fingers brushed against her nipples, hardening them. Salina tried to fight the sensations, but wasn't able to. This isn't real. This can't be happening. What's going on?
She didn't get an answer.
The sensations only intensified. The rush of the water was drowned out by the pounding of her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut. The woozy feeling sloshed her head around. The hands were all over her.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
New Release: Dark Diary by Dawne Dominique
Author: Dawné Dominique
Cover Artist: Dawné DominiqueGenre: Paranormal/ Erotic Romance/ Vampire Length: Novel, 70,912 Words, 167 PDF Pages
ISBN: 978-193165-53-7
Heat Level: Erotic Romance
Warning: Violence
Cover Artist: Dawné DominiqueGenre: Paranormal/ Erotic Romance/ Vampire Length: Novel, 70,912 Words, 167 PDF Pages
ISBN: 978-193165-53-7
Heat Level: Erotic Romance
Warning: Violence
http://purplesword.com/zencart/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=57
Book II of Dawné Dominique’s The First series:
The lives of a deranged serial killer, a seven centuries old First vampire and a City of Winnipeg detective collide in this second novel of Dawné Dominique’s The First series.
Daniella Rolfe, a seven-century old First vampire is unwittingly drawn together with a City of Winnipeg detective, who happens to be investigating a string of some rather bizarre serial murders. It doesn’t take long for her to discover that this mere mortal man holds more power over her than any she's ever known.
And Aiden…he's only dreamed about women like Daniella.
Blood battles and broken vows are the just beginning of Daniella Rolfe’s woes.
EXCERPT:
Aiden forced himself to chill and reason this out, though it was as difficult as hell. He couldn’t forget the images of her gleaming teeth or the slithering veils of midnight-black floating about her skull like Medusa’s snakes.
As she explained, Daniella’s voice adopted a soft, melodic timbre, and coupled with her unique accent, it drifted in his ears like medieval Celtic music.
“I am the last of The First, a blood drinker from the moment I emerged from my mother’s womb. For centuries, I’ve lived alongside y—”
A half-hearted laugh snuck out before he could stop it. Strangling the rest of the chortle, he managed a hoarse, “You’ve got to be joking!”
“Please allow me the courtesy of finishing, Aiden. I’ll take your questions…” she paused, “and ridicule, after.”
He snapped his mouth shut so fast, his teeth chattered. The calm rebuke had felt like a spanking.
“I am a chameleon; I change my identity from century to century, so no one is the wiser. I continue to be the great granddaughter of a Rolfe, which is a family name I rather like, though it is fictitious. The Talbots aid me in ensuring proper documentation is changed and my continuous birth is legal and binding. Vampires, my kin, walk amongst you, though they know enough about me to leave any city I reside in alone.
He went to ask what cities, but she didn’t give him a chance.
“Your written myths are correct in that vampires are made by the transference of their blood with a human, but…” A dark shadow crossed over her face. “…vampires are not prone to sharing their blood, as it brings competition over fodder and territory. They are self-righteous loners by nature, preferring their own company for centuries on end until loneliness makes them destroy themselves or…” She fell silent.
“Or?”
“Or they find a companion deemed worthy in their eyes to spend eternity with.” She turned away. “Vampires have been around since before I was born. How and why they came into existence is unknown to me. I-I suspect that there must be parents of sorts, and there are rumors, but I’ve paid little attention to the veils of that world.”
“Veils?”
“When a vampire is turned, we call it the veiling.”
He had to ask. “Why?”
“There are veils of magic that separate our worlds. Think of the dark gifts as a commodity, but worth more than any amount of money in the world. Power is an ugly thing, Aiden. It breeds all sorts of fiends. Bloodsuckers exist, and good and evil are forever battling. In your race or in others, the concept is still the same. Now where was I? Oh, yes. Vamps are found any place where food is plentiful. It’s not uncommon to have two, maybe three residing in one city, depending on its population and size, but their hunting boundaries are strictly enforced. How they’re agreed upon, I don’t know. There are those who attempt to seek me out. I can sense them well before they have even caught a whiff of my nocturnal scent. Those who dare come here to usurp me, I destroy. And those that leave unexplained corpses, whether it is in my city or not, I find and kill them. We’re similar in that vampires are protective of their domiciles and food. When age becomes a concern—”
“Wait. Vampires don’t age… I mean…” Just what the hell did he mean?
“I’ll get to that later,” she said, her features softening. “Most vampires feed without the necessity of killing, taking only what’s needed before setting their victims free, unscathed. Well, perhaps a tad anemic, but they remember nothing of the experience,” she added with a strained smile. “Our gifts, in other words our magic, facilitates this.”
“Well, that’s reassuring,” he scorned. “I can well imagine that remembering someone gnawing on your neck and sucking you dry would have some fucked up effects. Intensive therapy comes to mind.” The scathing scowl she gave snapped his mouth shut again.
“Like your rungs of society, Aiden, vampires have their share of what one would deem a criminal. These degenerates kill when they feed without taciturn methods of secrecy, thinking they are all powerful, beyond reproach. Thankfully there are some out there who think like I do.”
He couldn’t help but wonder what category she fit in.
Book II of Dawné Dominique’s The First series:
The lives of a deranged serial killer, a seven centuries old First vampire and a City of Winnipeg detective collide in this second novel of Dawné Dominique’s The First series.
Daniella Rolfe, a seven-century old First vampire is unwittingly drawn together with a City of Winnipeg detective, who happens to be investigating a string of some rather bizarre serial murders. It doesn’t take long for her to discover that this mere mortal man holds more power over her than any she's ever known.
And Aiden…he's only dreamed about women like Daniella.
Blood battles and broken vows are the just beginning of Daniella Rolfe’s woes.
EXCERPT:
Aiden forced himself to chill and reason this out, though it was as difficult as hell. He couldn’t forget the images of her gleaming teeth or the slithering veils of midnight-black floating about her skull like Medusa’s snakes.
As she explained, Daniella’s voice adopted a soft, melodic timbre, and coupled with her unique accent, it drifted in his ears like medieval Celtic music.
“I am the last of The First, a blood drinker from the moment I emerged from my mother’s womb. For centuries, I’ve lived alongside y—”
A half-hearted laugh snuck out before he could stop it. Strangling the rest of the chortle, he managed a hoarse, “You’ve got to be joking!”
“Please allow me the courtesy of finishing, Aiden. I’ll take your questions…” she paused, “and ridicule, after.”
He snapped his mouth shut so fast, his teeth chattered. The calm rebuke had felt like a spanking.
“I am a chameleon; I change my identity from century to century, so no one is the wiser. I continue to be the great granddaughter of a Rolfe, which is a family name I rather like, though it is fictitious. The Talbots aid me in ensuring proper documentation is changed and my continuous birth is legal and binding. Vampires, my kin, walk amongst you, though they know enough about me to leave any city I reside in alone.
He went to ask what cities, but she didn’t give him a chance.
“Your written myths are correct in that vampires are made by the transference of their blood with a human, but…” A dark shadow crossed over her face. “…vampires are not prone to sharing their blood, as it brings competition over fodder and territory. They are self-righteous loners by nature, preferring their own company for centuries on end until loneliness makes them destroy themselves or…” She fell silent.
“Or?”
“Or they find a companion deemed worthy in their eyes to spend eternity with.” She turned away. “Vampires have been around since before I was born. How and why they came into existence is unknown to me. I-I suspect that there must be parents of sorts, and there are rumors, but I’ve paid little attention to the veils of that world.”
“Veils?”
“When a vampire is turned, we call it the veiling.”
He had to ask. “Why?”
“There are veils of magic that separate our worlds. Think of the dark gifts as a commodity, but worth more than any amount of money in the world. Power is an ugly thing, Aiden. It breeds all sorts of fiends. Bloodsuckers exist, and good and evil are forever battling. In your race or in others, the concept is still the same. Now where was I? Oh, yes. Vamps are found any place where food is plentiful. It’s not uncommon to have two, maybe three residing in one city, depending on its population and size, but their hunting boundaries are strictly enforced. How they’re agreed upon, I don’t know. There are those who attempt to seek me out. I can sense them well before they have even caught a whiff of my nocturnal scent. Those who dare come here to usurp me, I destroy. And those that leave unexplained corpses, whether it is in my city or not, I find and kill them. We’re similar in that vampires are protective of their domiciles and food. When age becomes a concern—”
“Wait. Vampires don’t age… I mean…” Just what the hell did he mean?
“I’ll get to that later,” she said, her features softening. “Most vampires feed without the necessity of killing, taking only what’s needed before setting their victims free, unscathed. Well, perhaps a tad anemic, but they remember nothing of the experience,” she added with a strained smile. “Our gifts, in other words our magic, facilitates this.”
“Well, that’s reassuring,” he scorned. “I can well imagine that remembering someone gnawing on your neck and sucking you dry would have some fucked up effects. Intensive therapy comes to mind.” The scathing scowl she gave snapped his mouth shut again.
“Like your rungs of society, Aiden, vampires have their share of what one would deem a criminal. These degenerates kill when they feed without taciturn methods of secrecy, thinking they are all powerful, beyond reproach. Thankfully there are some out there who think like I do.”
He couldn’t help but wonder what category she fit in.
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