Release Date: June 11 ,
2015
Published by The Writers Coffee
Shop
Genre: FICTION
/ Romance / Paranormal
ISBN
e-book: 978-1-61213-385-0
~~SUMMARY~~
When Celeste was kidnapped a century ago and turned
against her will by a cruel vampire fighter, she expected to spend her doomed
eternity as his slave, chained in the darkness, and she questioned her ability
to survive. But things don’t always
go as expected.
Just ask her kidnapper.
He never expected Celeste to learn how to
fight.
He never expected Celeste to become the best warrior he
had ever seen.
He never expected the secret hidden away in her
blood,
And he certainly never expected to become a victim of his
own sword.
Tormented
by her past and the dreams she can’t explain, Celeste now roams the earth slaying the creatures she
loathes—other vampires like herself—and seeking
revenge against those who would harm innocents in the name of
bloodlust.
Until she crosses paths with Striker, the handsome vampire
leader weighed down by his own tortured story.
In his quest for answers about the stunning Celeste,
Striker finds out more than he ever thought possible—about
himself, his true origins, and his destiny. But the secret Celeste is keeping
from him might be the one thing that keeps them apart for good—a
secret even more dangerous than a new, powerful enemy they never saw
coming.
As ancient mysteries, forgotten prophecies, and cruel eras
collide, Celeste must confront her past as well as her future. Fighting her
inner demons and letting Striker beyond the wall she built around her heart
haunts her, even more than her captive past.
Enter a supernatural world of passion, lust, sexual
obsession, and power that the unsuspecting humans never knew existed, until now
. . .
~~EXCERPT~~
The vampire silently watched from a balcony near the top
of a shiny glass-covered skyscraper, enthralled, as the assassin neatly
dispatched three Lore with brutal efficiency.
Two of the three had been beheaded before they’d even known what was
happening.
Impressive, really—hard as it is to sneak up on a
vampire, let alone deprive one of its head.
Granted, the three Lore rogues had looked young and
inebriated—no doubt fresh from snacking on some of the
drug-addled humans wandering around the club district in the very early hours
of the morning. The chemical-or alcohol-laced blood of high humans was a
favorite pastime of the younger generations of vampires, many of whom were
reticent to leave human vices behind after their
turning.
The
third vampire looked shocked and tried to run as his friends met their absolute
death, but the assassin was faster—considerably so. The Lore was
killed quickly, neatly, and efficiently, without undue blood or
relish.
He narrowed his dark brown eyes as he surveyed the
assassin’s
graceful movements.
The vampire didn’t kill for the thrill, which often happened because psychopaths
were common within their species. No, given the calm efficiency, the assassin
killed for some other reason that he couldn’t yet fathom.
He had hidden far enough away that the low clicking of his
compact digital camera couldn’t be
heard.
He zoomed in and refocused, the shutter softly snapping
open and closed as the assassin wiped a bloody sword on one of the unfortunate
vampire’s
clothing before sheathing it.
He stuck around long enough to ensure all Lore—vampires
turned by another vampire—had disintegrated into dust.
The cold, late-winter wind whistling through the city would eventually scatter
their remains across several gray city blocks. He was grateful they hadn’t been hybrids. They left a
mess when killed, and a cleaning crew would have been necessary to dispose of
the remains before any humans stumbled across them.
Pressing a few buttons, he examined the camera’s small screen critically. The
leathers covering the assassin from head to toe made any facial features
unidentifiable in each of the shots, but they were tight enough to leave no
doubt.
A female assassin?
He was surprised and a little excited. Female vampires
were increasingly rare, let alone one who fought as well as she
did.
The wind moaning between the high-rise and its tall
neighbor wasn’t enough
to muffle the soft thud of footfalls from his sharp ears. He didn’t turn, however, because the intruder’s scent was
familiar.
“Striker,
are you following her again?”
Bradford, Striker’s second-in-command,
asked.
Striker reluctantly pulled his gaze away from the camera’s screen and turned slowly. “Yes.
What of it?”
Bradford raised an eyebrow. “Surely you’ve got enough evidence against
her to report to Kouncil by now. Why the extra surveillance?”
Striker folded his arms and remained
silent.
Bradford ran his hands through his wavy red hair before
shrugging his heavily muscled shoulders. “I’m aware it’s not my job to question—”
“You
got that right.”
“Just
wondering if you can afford the extra time. Kovens don’t run themselves, you know.”
Striker shrugged, slipping the camera into the pocket of
his leather jacket. “I find her . . .
fascinating.”
Bradford snorted. “Don’t let your never-ending drive
for pussy cloud your judgment. The executioner’s noose is over her head, and you know it. Kouncil wants blood. She
risks exposing us all with her activities.”
“You
should see how she fights. She’s quick,
effective . . . deadly,”
Striker said, waving toward the female, who was scooping up empty
clothes and placing them in a nearby dumpster. “And she’s cleaning up after herself, as
you can plainly see. She poses no threat to us. On the contrary, she could be
useful.”
Bradford stared at the woman, wrinkling his fair, white
brow. “How old do you think she is?”
“She
is too fast to be a hybrid. She doesn’t appear to be able to fly yet, so Lore less than a century old is
my guess.”
“Less
than a century?” Bradford narrowed his
ruddy-colored eyes. “Good. She should be easy to
capture and destroy, then.”
Striker clenched his fists. “Do not be
so quick to destroy that which you don’t understand, brother. She could be a valuable asset.”
Bradford scoffed. “There
is no way Kouncil will ever allow a female to join Koven. Nor will they forgive
her for such . . . unseemly pursuits.”
“As
much as they might like to think otherwise, it’s not up to Kouncil. It’s up to me who joins my Koven. Besides, fifty years ago they said
the same thing about the hybrids, and now they are becoming members of our
ranks as fast as they mature.”
Bradford let out a single bark of laughter. “Yes,
you went against their wishes and allowed hybrids into Koven, and Kouncil is
still pissed off about it! Because of you, they were forced to relax the ban on
human and vampire relations, as well as the half-breeds sometimes resulting
from them. All to boost our ranks. Vampire numbers are dwindling lower than
ever before, and you know from personal
experience that the turnings don’t always take, particularly for wome—”
Bradford glanced at Striker and winced but pushed past the awkward
moment quickly. “Don’t mistake their tolerance of hybrids after
centuries of culling them with acceptance. They cannot stand the mongrels. They
still call them Tiks, for fuck’s sake!
They move about the sunlight without any discernable loss of strength, unlike
Kouncil themselves.” Bradford shook his head. “It
would be unwise to anger them so soon after a significant loss of face. They’ll never join the rest of us in
the twenty-first century. They’re marred
too deep in the old ways and prejudices. I often wonder why we sacrifice our
strongest vampires to protect them. Would we be so much worse off if we let
nature take its course?”
Striker shrugged. “My
maker used to ask me the same thing, and I honestly have no good answer.
Tradition, maybe? Koven has been the right hand of Kouncil for millennia. But
they’ll join us in modern society if
I have to drag them kicking and screaming myself. You’ll see.”
Bradford
huffed and cut his gaze sideways at Striker, clearly irritated. “Sadly,
brother, I think you will see, and when you do, you won’t like it.”
Running for the edge of the high-rise, he jumped, disappearing into the
dark sky.
Striker turned back to his contemplation of the
female.
He noticed she had returned everything to it pre-slaughter
state, and resolving to follow her, he launched himself into the sky and flew
above as she darted on foot through city alleys and quiet streets. He tracked
her easily and hoped she would lead him to her keeper. It would allow his men
to find her much easier later, should he wish to arrest
her.
His mind raced.
Kouncil had sent him specifically to identify and gather
evidence against the lone assassin killing rogue vampires—Lore
and hybrid alike—indiscriminately and without
permission. His instructions had not included rescue or
engagement.
But something about
her . . .
~~ABOUT THE
AUTHOR~~
Vanessa
Skye has always had a love of words and spent her school years writing poetry,
speeches, and fictional essays.
After
completing a Bachelor of Arts in print journalism and studying psychology at
Charles Sturt University, Vanessa got a job at Rural Press—Australia's
largest publisher of regional and agricultural news and information—where
she worked as a journalist in the Central West of New South Wales for four
years.
Thousands
of stories later, Vanessa decided to move back to Sydney and try her hand at
public relations while studying for her master’s in communication.
Skip forward a few years, and Vanessa once again found herself
joyfully studying various psychology subjects while managing a Sydney public
relations firm. Enthralled with examining the motivations behind people’s actions, Vanessa realized
what she really wanted to do in life was combine her love of words with her
fascination for human behavior. So Ms. Skye quit public relations to begin the
significantly more impoverished life of a professional writer.
Inspired by a recurring dream, Vanessa wrote her crime fiction
debut, The
Enemy Inside, which challenges the concept of justice, asks if the
need for vengeance sometimes justifies murder, and explores whether you can
ever heal from childhood abuse. The second book in this series, Broken, was
released in February 2014, and the third, Bloodlines, was released in January
of 2015. The first book in a paranormal series, Koven, will be released in June
2015. In her spare time, Vanessa wrote a short story, The Piece, which was
published in February 2012 by Dark Prints Press as a part of the One
That Got Away dark fiction anthology.
Vanessa now works as a freelance writer, lives on Sydney’s northern beaches, and tries
to immerse herself in salt water at least once a day.
~~CONNECT WITH THE
AUTHOR~~
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