Saturday, September 20, 2014

Eve's Tortured Love Confession.

Eve is one of the most complex characters in the Series. She is a wanton, sinning vampire, decadent and untamed, yet she is tortured by regret. In this excerpt, she has written a letter of confession to Louis Darton, former Master of Blackstone House.

This is an excerpt from Book 3 Unholy Testament - Full Circle

From Eve’s journal: 

"This is to you, my Louis, from one you raised up, created as God took from Adam’s rib that which he called Eve. Thus I am to you, your Eve and always shall be. Yet neither Heaven nor God had anything to do with it for it is Hell where we both spring from, is it not, my love? 

And now, for the rest of it. For there is more I wish to say. My heart must be unburdened. I still have a heart, though it pumps with tainted blood. Blood of the new covenant you gave to me. 

My first taste of blood was from you. Sweet nectar filled my mouth. Like a terrible yet beautiful thing it entered my being, allowing me to see that which had gone before. I speak of your life, your existence. I felt your love from that moment. 

And you, what did you feel? You saw us die at the hands of crazed people, maddened with murderous desire. You saw a family perish at their hands, Ada and Simon and their mother, and because you are you and demon in name only, you wished us to walk the earth again! You brought us back from Hell, the children and I. 

You recall surely how I opened my eyes and said I had not wished to be raised up. You heard this though you never knew why! The reason is Satan was known to me before that time! Yes, he was, well known. As well known as any being can be that has carnal relations with another. 

Have I your attention now, my dearest? Permit me then to explain as best I can what I finally have the courage to explain. Allow me a privilege, however, for I shall go back to describing my relations with Satan but first I wish to discuss our most recent problems. Your casting me out as an unclean spirit, a wanton vampire you held responsible for the death of an innocent youth. I cannot disagree, for it is true. 

How sad that one so young should have perished because of me, because I dallied with a vulnerable boy. You know his name. I am quite certain it is never far from your lips. Roger D’Arcy. Yes, your friend Raymond’s only son who died by his own hand for love of me because I, in the worst of my own debaucheries, rejected him! Do you recall your words to me? 

“Get out!” you cried. “Go, you contagion, leave my sight at once!” 

No amount of pleading would move your heart or weaken your resolve, was that not so? 
You probably are still seething with hatred toward me. I wonder if my contrite words contained in this confession might move you a little. 

You see, it is my hope they will, so here it is, the truth and the absolute truth from me, a cursed vampire—very much an unclean spirit. The truth is, I did deliberately seduce him. That nice young man, so sweet with youth and goodliness. I did seduce and taint him and then abandon him! 

I think I did it to spite you, Louis. Really, if I think about it. You see, I had for the longest time thought you less attentive than usual. I wanted to make myself known to you. 

Do you not remember my calling you to bed, trying so hard to entice you into lovemaking, using endearments for you to notice me, trying endless times but to no avail? When you did not give in, I cursed you, silently, secretly. The children knew I was upset and wished me to tell them I was alright. Naturally, I did. Yet they knew I was not. 

I have clever children. Children you think of as your own and rightly so, for you are the only father they have ever known and loved really. But alas, Louis, they are my own flesh and blood—pulled from my loins in the pain-racked living life of one who gave birth to them. I miss them daily, hourly, yearly. Do they not still miss me? They weep when I am gone, they have told me so. Did you know that? 

Sorry, but I am using whatever ploy I can think of to soften your resolve, but honesty first, eh, Louis? Back to the boy then. Yes, he did write to me, pleading with me to return to him, to resume our affair. I wrote back that I was not at all interested in his juvenile lovemaking. 

‘I doubt that it will get better either, my dear young man. For a man either knows how to satisfy a woman or he does not.’ 

How harsh I was. How nasty and how totally undeserved it was, too. He wrote me once more, saying how I had hurt him and once again pleading with me. 

‘My dearest love, how you do wound me. Oh Eve, my life—do not leave me. I shall not want to live if you do.’ 

I did something worse than not answering this pathetic plea—I met with him. Yes, I met secretly with him and made love to him again, all the while knowing it was for the last time! 

I was wildly passionate! Never did I perform more wantonly than I did with him on that final, fatal afternoon. 

We coupled in Shakespeare’s Head Tavern in Covent Garden, did you know? Oh yes, it was our favorite place of assignation. And then as we did on such occasions, we sat and chatted after it; he not wanting to leave, me dressing in slow, languid motions—my teeth marks still on his throat. He let me bite, you see, but I never fed. At least, I didn’t with him. 

And then, as always, he thanked me in the florid tones of one so young. I thanked him, too. And then, still with my breasts bared, I told him I would never see him again. 
“You cannot mean that!” he cried. And he did truly cry! 

I said I did. When at last I was dressed, I headed for the door but he called me back. “Eve! I shall kill myself if I have no hope of seeing you again.” 

“Well, do it then and be quick!” I answered. He did as you know shoot himself in the heart. That poor young heart so filled with love and desire. There was hell to pay, was there not, my beloved? For you threw me out. With the children screaming and Dr. Antor trying to plead with you, you still threw me out. 

And do you know what I think? I say I deserved it. Oh yes, Louis, I did truly. I do regret what I did. I am sorry for the loss of such a young life and for the grief of the father. I know you would not raise up the son, for it is a curse as well as a hellish gift. 

If you can bear it though, will you do me just one favor now. Only one. And that is, I ask you to read the rest of my confession to you. For I shall tell you things you do not know, things I have not told anyone. The only being that knows these secrets is the one who is known to all the world as Satan. 
Yes, Satan. You know I have been his mistress. What you do not know, Louis, is when it was he first came to me. Nor do you know the circumstances surrounding that. I was but fifteen. My mother and my newborn sister had just died. I believed they were in paradise and with God. Yes, I actually believed that. I was certain they were in Heaven.

My father, cruel monster that he was, would not condone such beliefs nor recognize the comfort they offered a grieving child, so he dragged me to their crypt. 

“Look upon your Heaven now and see what has become of them!” 

I begged him not to show me, I turned my head but he forced me to look. And look I did. My screams tore through the dank air in that horrible place. I can still hear those shrieks even now as I recall that horrible night. 

This was my mother and sister. I had previously seen them whole and beautiful, with death’s silent stillness upon their fair features. 

Yet they were changed! There I stood in that awful place, smelling death and rot; the mother and her newly born babe mere corpses swarming with maggots—alive with rot! 
I must have screamed. I can still hear those screams sometimes. 

My father only laughed at me. “You see, it is only best that you know!” 

I knew alright. I knew in my child’s brain that the comfort offered by the church was based on lies and falsehoods. There was no Heaven. They did not rest in peace. How were they resting in peace when insects devoured their flesh? 

“There is no God!” Yes, in my child’s voice, I proclaimed what I knew to be a truth. 
My father only laughed, and that laughter and his continued cruelty caused me to curse him. “I hope you burn in Hell for all eternity!” 

He laughed at first but then when I kept screaming my curses, he beat me senseless. When I woke, I did so with a worse curse upon my lips. For not only did I curse him to Hell, I called upon Satan to punish him. 

I was alone for some days after that as my father had gone on a drinking binge. Drinking and wenching were his favorite pastimes. That was when he came to me. Satan! Came to me the first time then as I lay weeping for my mother. He stood silhouetted in front of my window, this tall being gazing down at me. I began to cry for I was fearful lest he hurt me. 

His voice was a soft whisper. “I will not hurt you, Eve.” 

I asked him how it was he knew my name but he did not answer. Instead, he came toward me. I let him touch me, for I longed for comfort. His touch was gentle, too. I opened myself to him, I wept as I told him what had happened. He let me speak for the longest time before he whispered: “I have come to love you.” 

There was something about his tone that made me pull away. 

“Who are you?” I asked, feeling ever more frightened. 

His answer was to let me gaze upon his face. Lighting a candle, he held it close. You know how handsome he can look if he so chooses and that was how he looked. 

“I am lord of the dark, god of all you secretly covet. I am he who rules the great dark depths of punishment and beyond!” 

As I opened my mouth to scream he came upon me. Like a wind he rushed over me, touching every part of me. At first it was calming but then he hurt me—he hurt me so, Louis. I screamed but his mouth covered my lips to stifle those screams. Blackness came then and he carried me off so that I felt nothing for the longest time. 

I woke broken and bleeding. I was still so child-like, yet I knew I had been ravished. And because I feared my father’s wrath, I washed and waited for his return. 

When he came back, he said nothing. And I said nothing and life went on like that, but for the dreaded times when Satan returned in the quiet of the night—to continue what he started. 

The months passed and my father’s cruelty continued. When I finally turned sixteen, I left my father’s home, foolishly hoping Satan would not know where I went. 

I survived as best I could. And because I felt myself damaged, I sold my body, freely and often. I did this in order to eat and have a place to lay my head. Many times I would walk into a shop and see the same look in the shopkeper’s eyes that I had seen in Satan’s. And I would wait whilst he locked the door and led me to the cellar. 

I was taken in that way in innumerable places, by all sorts of men. Old young, handsome, ugly, flushed with sickness—trembling with excitement, stinking with sweat, begrimed by dirt, too. 

However they were it didn’t matter, as long as I had some coins for my trouble. I used to lie back whilst being pummeled to the floor, thinking of where I was next bound. 

I created little fancies in my head, plays if you will, of what I wished to have for myself. Often I dreamed I was a great lady, the mistress of a fine house. It helped, you see. It was a glimmer of hope for me. 

But then, Satan returned one day. I recognized him at once. He washed me and clothed me and was actually kind to me. I still don’t know why that was. Could it be I thought that sometimes Satan is good? He had been after all an angel once, had he not? 

I longed to see him after that. Well, I was so unused to kindness that I did, because he was far nicer than most of the horrible men I coupled with. However, I didn’t see him for the longest time after that, until one day... 

“I will always come to you, Eve. But never to hurt you—for I care for you and always will.” 
I believed him, foolish girl that I was. Imagine believing the Great Deceiver? 

But I will tell you this, Louis. I was by that time obsessed with him. An obsession that was to grow in intensity to the point where I am still obsessed with him. I am a slave to him and to the corrupt passion he inflames within me. 

He did not return to me for years. And so I continued to make my way by selling my body. Occasionally, a man would enjoy bringing a woman to me. Many men liked watching such activity. 

And so, I felt the caress of the first female hands to touch my naked body—the first hands that were not my mother’s. And I found to my astonishment that these were not hurtful hands generally, and though I did not wish it, I found there was peace in there being no pain. 

One of these women, I actually liked as a friend, though she liked me as a lover, and because she was kind to me, I did whatever she wished. In my young mind, I had no idea that this only made her love me more. And all the while I was hers, I had eyes for her brother. For he was handsome and sweet and greatly attracted to me. 

On the rare occasions we found ourselves alone, we became intimate. Two young people, we explored each other’s bodies—and what we discovered was shared passion. Passion so wild, we could do nothing to stifle our desires. 

Naturally, it wasn’t long before I became pregnant. The child I would have would be Simon. 
His sister, my own lover as well, knew she had been betrayed. “If you don’t come back to me, I shall kill myself.” 

“Please,” I begged. “Your brother has promised to marry me. You see, I am pregnant with his child!” 

She began to tremble. There was no calming her down, with all her pain and hurt. At last, she smiled bitterly. She ran her hand along my cheek. “When will you marry?” 

“When he returns from Paris,” I replied. “For he has gone there for work.” 

She nodded. Then taking my hand and kissing it, she asked if she might lay one more night with me. I did not wish it, but she pleaded. “I only wish to lie beside you, Eve. Just to sleep. I will never ask you again.” 

That should have tipped me off but it didn’t. She was true to her word, and did not touch me nor kiss me. I fell asleep and woke to feeling wet. When I looked I saw she was covered in blood. She had cut her own throat. 

I screamed whilst I washed myself. And kept on screaming. You see, blood and I, Louis, have an uneasy relationship. This you never knew but you do now. 

Her brother returned the next day to find his sister in her coffin and me still prostrate from the shock of her suicide. 

As she was a suicide, she was not buried in consecrated ground but outside the walls of the village church. The church I would soon marry in. I did indeed marry him. I was happy but despite loving my husband, I would be blighted with nightmares. The dreams were always the same. I’d relive all that had happened, the horror of my discovery. 

Time passed and I continued in my marriage. In time, I gave birth to another child—a daughter I named Ada. By this time I was content enough with my two children and my husband but found that he was not. You see, he had never gotten over his sister’s suicide. Therefore, the accusations began: “You let her love you. You had to have…” 
“But you knew what she was like. I could do nothing to dissuade her!” 

He did eventually leave me. Yes, this you know for I have told you I was alone with two young children. I was left to go in search of my survival, only this time I had two babes as well. 

You know of Antonia, the woman I did love, she who was burned for witchcraft, but you don’t know what happened before I knew her. 

You don’t know for instance about the time I spent with a young cleric, nor the passionate affair I had with him…nor do you know how ill I was when I discovered him dead by his own hand, having bled to death from his self-inflicted castration. Yes, another bloody death and horrific discovery for me to make. 

Yet aside from that, there was also the letter he had written before performing his vile act. 
I cannot live with my sin…nor shall I…. Yes, Paul was his name. A young man with God in his heart, a perfectly formed creature, one who knew my lips and hands upon that sweet perfection. 

How I enjoyed lying with him. Yet I think if I am honest with myself, I would say I enjoyed knowing I was seducing him, drawing him away from his god. Making him sink to the depths that I inhabited. 

Another life gone, an act of violence and another sin to my credit. I think too that knowing Satan led me astray, or is that fanciful on my part? Is it possible all the evil in me was of my own making? 

What else have I to confess, my love? Many things, things I have done whilst with you that you never knew about. You see, Satan visited me after my creation; you were away but the children saw him. 

“Who is that man, Mama?” Simon wished to know. The man Mama took into her bedroom. 
I told him he was a dear friend and we had things to discuss. Have you ever heard such vileness? Well, it is true. 

But here is more. The sisters came and took care of both Ada and Simon. They did it for I wished to do Satan’s bidding! You know me Louis, but I must confess to having done despicable things that even I am reluctant to mention. 

You see, he never stopped coming to me. And though the tainted love we shared was great, it was not enough! We sought to do more and more, for evil like cancer grows upon itself! 
Even without Satan and without your knowledge, I have seduced anyone I could, anyone that took my fancy. Whatever waywardness troubled me before my creation became much worse after you pulled me from Hell! My victims were of any age, either sex, it didn’t matter. 

Do you know Louis that Satan and I travelled throughout the land, pretending we were married? Yes, we have done this! We did it in order to gain the confidence of clerics and nuns alike. I would play the abused wife whilst Satan acted his part as the offending husband. We tricked convents and churches. And do you know what? With their confidence gained, we then seduced them. 

With magic and wine, we indulged in the most depraved acts. We raped and abused the most innocent creatures. God’s creatures were to be tainted, marked with our sin. 
We feasted upon their flesh, too. Even in the throes of passion, as our lips and tongues gave pleasure, we tasted and often consumed them. 

You should have seen the shock on their faces. If they howled too much, we finished them off quickly, draining them of blood and feasting upon their flesh first. Yet surprisingly, there were those who gave in to their own desires! We never disappointed them, nor ignored such encouragement. 

They watched as our teeth sank into their soft, white flesh. They screamed with orgiastic frenzy as we fed upon their most intimate places. Sometimes they fainted; most often they did not. 

Occasionally, we attracted unwanted attention and so we made short work of those who tried to stop us. Then, when we were finished, we’d leave. 

Often we were asked, “What becomes of me now?” 

Yes, the words of a corrupted priest or nun, imploring us for an answer. Satan always answered them depending on whether they were vampiric or not. Those who weren’t, he killed, thereby ending their angst. The others, those who were now vampiric, he encouraged to go and satisfy their cravings. 

“How can you complain,” he’d shout. “You have eternal life now!” 

And after it all, I’d return to our little home. Truthfully, I did almost always feel shamed as I was greeted by the sisters. I saw the expression in their eyes, that unmistakable look of condemnation, for they suspected what I had been about, that was obvious. The children gladdened my heart though. 

But invariably, I’d have to take to my bed, for even a vampire can be worn out sexually. 
I wonder if you have found this out in your own experience. Forgive me for asking, Louis; I shall not do it again. 

You’d return and be concerned for me. Do you remember? ‘You look wan,’ you’d say. ‘Haven’t you been taking the wolfbane?’ I’d lie and say I had. Sometimes I thought you didn’t believe me, that you knew something was amiss. I often wondered about that. Tell me, did you know, did you ever suspect? 

It is strange, don’t you think, that with all of the blood and flesh I had consumed, I did look pale? I think it was the lovemaking with Satan that did it. He is a voracious sex beast. There is no other that is like he is. 

Here is something else. Just after my creation, when we were returning to London from France, I met with him while you went out to book our passage. 
I left the children with the innkeeper to be with him. I could not help it. It had been a long time since we had coupled and that expanse of time made me hunger for him even more. So, when we were at last together, I could not get enough of him. I love the taste of him and of his blood. If that is awful, I must say Louis I am sorry but there is more… 

Did you know, Louis, that whenever you went off to do your good works, I met with Satan? 

The sisters always stayed with the children whilst I went off with him to do as he asked. I often wondered why they did my bidding as much as they did, but they said I could not help what I was and that the children should not pay for it. I think they thought to shame me but I am immune to shame, am I not, Louis? 

Yet, I am in a contrite frame of mind and eager to confess more sins to you. I don’t know why I am so motivated; perhaps I do have goodness in me? Or is it guilt about you? If it is guilt, then perhaps I have some goodness in order to feel the guilt? I wonder if that is possible. 
No, I think it is not possible for I am more evil than you yourself know. The things in which I participated were in truth horrific orgies that included blood sacrifices. 

We sacrificed women and children. I lay with men and women, young girls and boys, too. I not only had Satan, I lay with his demons as well—not some of them, most of them! 
I was to put such things out of my mind. Yet I am obligated now to recall them as this is my confession to you. 

There is one occasion I recall above all others. I had never been more wanton or riddled with sin than I was then. And since this particular orgy was not a vampiric one, after it was ended, all the participants were slaughtered—men, women and children. 

I wept though for the children, and Satan beat me. He said I was a disappointment and always would be. I was stung and hurt by his words, and I think my relationship changed with him from that moment. I do still think that. 

And then, because so many were massacred, we set fire to the evidence of our terrible crime. 
I returned to the tavern a day before you came back. Joan took me aside and said they would tell you the next time I went off. I believed they would and I begged them not to. 

You returned and I was so resigned to changing my ways. If for nothing else then for the children, for I felt I would be thrown out if anyone told you what I had been doing. 
Bear with me—there is another confession, one that is the most difficult for me to confess. 
Prepare yourself because it concerns a different kind of sin than you are used to hearing from my lips. 

Louis, about this time I decided to destroy myself and the children. I know what you think. Why include the children in such a barbarism? I don’t know. I was not clear in my thinking. 
I went so far as to write copious letters addressed to you declaring why I had decided to end our existence. 

What can they look forward to, I wrote? Existing as monsters in the world of the undead as I do? Surely, that is reason to die, not reason to live! How can such a fate be called living? 
I sharpened wooden stakes but then as I could not envision stabbing the children, I prepared a fire that I intended to throw us all into. 
I planned I would do this with the children drugged and unfeeling. Of course, I could not do it. 
Do you recall seeing me burning papers? I think you do for you acted suspicious. “Why do you do that? Are those loving letters you burn?” 

For once, I answered without lying. “No, Louis. They are foolish thoughts I had about something that I have changed my mind about.” 

You did not look convinced but it was the truth. And now, Louis, there is nothing else. I have come nearly to the end of my sordid sins. 

Ah, but wait! There is always another sin. And so I will tell you now that I have lain with Eco many times. But you know this, I am certain. Well, be steadfast for there is more… 

I am just returning from France where I was involved in vampiric orgies and satanic rites. Yes! I was once again Satan’s mistress as I was Eco’s. And so it goes, does it not, Louis? 
There you have before you the sins that are in my heart. The terrible evil that Eve has propagated! 

It is, alas, my destiny to be what I am for I fear I cannot change. What do you think? Is there any hope for me at all? 

Yes, despite your answer, Louis, I put it to you. I ask that you take me back. I ask this as one who does love you and as one who misses her children. 

I am filled with regret and anguish. Please consider my heartfelt request that I might return to home and hearth and to the bosom of my family. 

Do you think it possible that I can do this? Or do you think as I sadly fear that one such as I can never change, no matter what my intention. 

Yours, Eve    "

End of excerpt.

$2.99 singly

or all four novels $3.99


Thursday, September 18, 2014

The Work-In-Progress Blog Tour: Meet Anat: Blood Princess!

My wonderful author friend Julie Northrup has nominated me for this work-in-progress blog challenge. The idea is that we reveal something about our work-in-progress, link back to the person who nominated us, and in turn nominate a further three people to continue the chain.

My work-in-progress is the second novel in the Blood and Passion Series.

Book 1, Justine: Into the Blood was just released. And it seems my readers can't wait for the next in the series! The character, Anat made her debut  in Justine.

She is featured in Book 2. Her story is tragic. Anat, whose living life was in Ancient Egypt committed an unpardonable sin as a royal princess. She fell madly in love with a servant. They both paid dearly for this taboo affair.

Her former lover, Ramet, is a main character in Book 1, Justine: Into The Blood.

Book 2Anat: Blood Princess is a story of love and loss, betrayal and unimaginable evil.

From the book:

"Today I am Cleopatra and next week I might be Helen of Troy. The possibilities are endless. I am one person and then another. Still, I am compliant for an actress must be..."

Indeed. How lucky they were in the dawn of Hollywood to have an actress who existed through eons of time, a true Hollywood vamp!

The story will tell of her living life in Ancient Egypt, her torrid affair and her death and raising up. Spanning centuries, she finds love--indeed seeks it; yet it is never as she knew it once to be. Still, her quest goes on, just as she does...

She has, in the previous novel, Justine: Into the Blood found her love from her living life. It is quite an emotional time for them, as that lover was punished for his indiscretion most cruelly.

In Book 2, Anat: Blood Princess, the evil sorcerer Natalas who created both of them becomes the dominant figure in Anat's existence. He has planned everything down to the last detail. Capable of anything, he is not to be trusted, yet he can force anyone, including the undead, to do his bidding.

I had this novel in my head as I wrote Justine. Now, I get to write it to its conclusion!

These are my nominations to carry the challenge onwards:

Craig Gaydas, Billie Lanford and Mary Bernsen.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Justine: Into The Blood: Meeting The Vampire Prince of Paris!

Born in pre-Revolutionary France and orphaned as a child, Justine Bodeau is taken in by a family friend who employs her as a seamstress. Eventually, she winds up to work in the court of Queen Marie Antoinette. 

A strong-willed survivor, defeat does not occur to her. When she fights off an attack by an aristocrat and kills him, she is given refuge but is soon betrayed and winds up on the streets of Paris, where she is attacked and killed by rogue vampires. But for whatever reason, love will not let her die. 

Justine goes from wishing to be destroyed to wanting to survive, when she feels passion for the one who brought her back, Gascoyne — the one they call the Vampire Prince of Paris.


I chose the first place I came upon— an abandoned shop, stinking of the sourness of filth and decay. There were rats and mice and heaven knew what else, but other than that, no people to bother me. I would rest. Sleep came quickly— but so did the attack. Something bit the back of my neck. The pain was excruciating. My first thought was, I was being attacked by a dog. I tried to defend myself. That's when I heard the hissing.

Frightened and in too much pain to think, I somehow managed to pull away . All I wanted to do was run from the beast. But then I was attacked again— this time from every direction. I fought hard but knew I was failing. A whole pack was attacking me, killing me.

I felt myself growing weaker by the second . I could just see the beasts' outlines in the dim moonlight. Why didn't they look like dogs? Death was at hand. I felt it and I welcomed it. The pain passed through me while the life drained from me. I am dying. Then, just before everything grew black, I saw its eyes, the eyes of the one that had been the most voracious of all. They glowed yellow, like a wolf's. With that last thought, I died.

The blackness turned to shadows and from within those shadows, I saw figures. They might have been my parents. I called out to them but then felt myself drifting away— slowly at first, then more quickly. I clearly heard the shouts and cries of the damned. Was I bound for hell? I don't think I cared. And then I heard a voice; quite distinct it was, too. Someone was calling me forth. “Rise!” A man's voice, rich and deep sounding.

At first I thought it was the count… I might have even called out Oriani's name. There was no answer though, just words spoken that sounded strange. “Enter the darkness and live again!” Soft murmuring ensued. Muffled voices and whispers, voices saying things I could not understand. “Drink!” Believing the offering to be water, I obeyed. But then I smelled it and turned away. “Please, no!”

Was it wine? If so, it smelled awful. “You must drink…” I looked to see someone's wrist, from which blood poured forth. I gasped as it was held over my mouth. The blood splashed down on me and still, I would not open my mouth. “She is sinking fast…” “Open your mouth and drink!” I obeyed because the man's tone was pleading. He looked so sad and impassioned. “It is the only thing that will bring you back!”

I opened my mouth to receive his blood and become what he wished me to be. What it was my destiny to become— a Vampire, a blood-imbibing creature of the night, a cursed being condemned to feed like the Vampire bat. I would call shadows home, along with night. Sun would become my enemy. I had visions of people I neither knew nor recognized. They weren't my memories, of that I was certain.

“The things you see come from my living life for it is my blood you drink.” I tried to understand but it was so difficult. Something struck me. It felt like a hard stinging slap, but I did not cry out. I heard the sound of another slap and the cry of a woman following it. Scuffling accompanied those sounds, as well as a warning: “Leave her alone or I will tear you apart.”

Finally, I regained my senses and looked about. I lay in a dimly lit, cavernous room. The light within came from flickering candles. The shadows frightened me, and the smell of damp and dust threatened to overpower me. I saw her then; a woman with disheveled hair glared at me before rushing away. I was certain she was the one that had slapped me. I tried to lunge at her! As weak as I still was, I tried, for I brimmed with rage and loathing. The man held me down. “Let me look into your eyes.” He nodded sadly after he did. “I don't know how you were before, but now you are the Devil's own. Some return different with Hell's taint upon them. I fear you are one of those…”

I had passed into the blood. The being that once was Justine Bodeau had ceased to exist. In her place stood a raging Vampire. Wantonness and hatred replaced my soul. Whatever I had been, I would be no more. They say I slept for days; not sleep as I had known it but the deep, nearly fathomless sleep of the Vampire. When I woke, I was alone but for a man sitting near me. As he had his back to me, I could not see his face. He turned suddenly, as if he sensed me looking at him. He was the man whose blood I had drunk. “I am Gascoyne,” he said. “I am called the Vampire Prince of Paris.” When I made no reply, he asked me my name. “I am called Justine,” was my reply.

Top of its genre!"

"Revenge, betrayal, passion, bloodshed, lust and love are just a few of the elements of this dark and spellbinding book."

"Justine, realizes she as a vampire could actually love and in fact is in love with Gascoyne. I think that was the turning point in the story."

"This vampire romance is rich in history, deep in blood sex and exotic locations and is very highly recommended."

"Vampires have their own allure and none more so than the female."

Friday, September 5, 2014

ON SALE! NEW SERIES, NEW BOOK! Meet Justine Bodeau!

Justine Bodeau has arrived! She tells her story in her own words. Her tale makes up Book One of the Blood and Passion Series.

Born in a poor district of Paris when the nation is seething with unrest and hatred for the aristocracy, Justine finds herself at the court of Queen Marie Antoinette. Fighting off an attack by an aristocrat, she is saved by another--but betrayal follows. Death finds her on the streets of Paris where she is attacked by rogue vampires. But love will not let her die. The one they call Gascoyne, the Prince of Vampires gives her eternal life, but by doing so--he has condemned her to exist as one of the undead.

She isn't grateful, she hates what she has become, but passion overcomes the hatred.

Fate has many surprises in store for her. Friendship with another of her kind. And love too--but it is Gascoyne she is haunted by for she remembers love.


We are prisoners of our past, hostages of our heart. Yes, even those like myself, whose heart no longer beats, are slaves to it. Do we remember love? I think we do. I remember my first loving … or am I only recalling lust? I wonder if it matters. Perhaps nothing really matters, all the things gone before the current moment. Ah but there are so many moments in an immortal existence. Shocked? Do not be.

 I am what I am, no more no less. The truth is I am a creature of the night. Blood is like wine to me … no wait. It is better than that. It is my life— alright, existence then. Why not be honest from the first? I am Justine Bodeau, a Vampire who recalls her existence now in this telling. My past has returned to offer me comfort. I am embraced by it. It feels good—though I know as I go along, I shall find certain memories painful. I wonder if I will bury them or if they will insist on returning. And when the past and present meet, when I find the truth to questions I have, I wonder if I shall wish to be destroyed for I have yearned for it many times. Still, I shall persevere.

I am aboard a ship sailing to a new chapter in my existence. What lies ahead, I do not know. All I can do is guess and try to learn from the past; a past that included two worlds, one living and one undead. I sit in my cabin, glad to be alone frankly, for I am able to reflect on all that had gone before. Was my existence worth so much that I cared to go on forever or for as long as I could? That was not a question to be taken lightly. There was much I would have to consider first. Suddenly, a gentle knock sounded at the door. Ramet. “Justine?” 
He came in quickly. “You must take this…” 

My dear friend Ramet— do not worry; you will know all there is to know about him in the course of my tale. He was bringing in something for me to take so that I would not sicken. Craving blood and doing without is not pleasant for one such as I. There is such gross discomfort when that happens. One is fraught with pain and nausea. I have felt that way many times, and it seems to me each instance is worse than the one before. I looked at the goblet he placed in my hands and knew at once it not only contained blood but also an elixir he uses to restore vitality. The opiate of Vampires, as he says. We didn't speak then; he just wished me to drink. And so I did. It tasted salty as blood always does, but the unmistakable taste of sweetness crept through— too, probably from the honey I knew him to add.

“It is good, yes?” 

I nodded and smiled. Sometimes I think Ramet acts more like a concerned father than my friend. When I finished the beverage, he took the cup from me. “I will leave you now.” He closed the door softly. Sleep beckoned, not the human sleep I can no longer recall, but the deep sleep of the Vampire, more like death than slumber— yet not being death, it is often filled with dreams. 

I undressed for I knew the cupboard would be warm, as well as cramped. Still, if I slept on my side with my legs curled under me, I would fit nicely. The darkness soothed me. There was no sound; just that of my own breathing filling the space. Soon, I would be in sleep's embrace and I would dream of the life that was mine long ago.

Cover by The Cover Collection