Dear Reader,
Dragon heart is dragon stone
Holds within all that is known.
Ancient as earth's molten core
Gleaming with forbidden lore.
Lest the Keeper not take care
Lest the Guardian fail to share
All mankind must then beware.
Jane
Jane
Showing posts with label Witches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Witches. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
WHAT I'M WRITING NOW
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Winner of Witch's Fire
Dear Reader,And the winner of the PDF copy of Witch's Fire is....Maggie Dove!!!! Woooohoooo, Congrats!!!
Cheers, and happy Sunday :)
Kayden
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Tabitha Shay, and Witch's Fire
Dear Readers,
I hope you’ll enjoy the blurb from my latest release, Witch’s Fire, book five in the Winslow witches of Salem series. In this excerpt, Kirrah is just realizing the potential of her magical powers.
Enjoy…Tabs
BLURB/WITCH’S FIRE/BOOK FIVE/SHAY
In a world where magic is dying―two people meet under unusual circumstances…
Realm of light―New to this witchy stuff, Kirrah Walker crashes her broom into a stranger and knocks him unconscious. Feeling guilty, she takes him home with her and nurses him back to health. However, she soon discovers a terrible secret―the stranger is on a mission to assassinate a witch. Now Kirrah must decide if she’ll set him free or keep him tied to the headboard of her bed…
World of darkness―Prince Stry, future King of Ru-Noc awakens to find he’s not only a captive, but captivated by the charming witch who flutters around him like a nervous butterfly. Her magick is wild and so out of control, he knows in his heart he should steal her soul, but kissing Kirrah is habit-forming.
Kirrah and Stry―magical beings who must face the fear of their past, acknowledge their future and trust in destiny in a world gone mad…
EXCERPT/WITCH’S FIRE/BOOK FIVE/SHAY/R-RATED/LANGUAGE
Apparently her plain, ordinary, run-of-the-mill broom was in no hurry to cooperate with a landing.
Even if she knew the right words to bring it down, it had stopped listening to her commands the minute it soared away with her.
Zoom!
“Ahhhhhhh,” Kirrah screeched. She hadn’t known the broom had warp speed. “Ohh! Oh, shit, broom. Slow down!”
Of course, it totally ignored her.
In her mind, she heard its evil cackling. The broom was up to more tricks. It streaked across the sky faster than a speeding bullet.
Sure, it was exhilarating, a little on the chilly side, and every now and then she had to spit out some kind of attack bug, but it was fun, if a bit scary as hell soaring among the clouds.
She wasn’t used to flying, so it was even scarier when the broom rocked unsteadily, like now, and kicked in passing gear. Kirrah choked her fingers around the scrawny handle, which only seemed to make the broom even more unsteady.
Was that a gagging sound she heard?
“Release me.” Cough. Splutter. Cough.
Kirrah’s thought her eyes might bulge right out of their sockets. “You talk?” She stared at the handle. No mouth. “Nah, you can’t talk.”
“You’re choking me.”
“Oh, oh, shit-shit-shit! You can talk.”
“Re-lease…me,” the broom said in a strained voice.
Kirrah eased the choke-hold she had on the handle.
“Weeee,” the broom chortled excitedly, climbing even higher.
Kirrah controlled the urge to tighten her fingers again.
What a miserable night this had turned out to be. One minute she’d been standing in her kitchen doorway gazing up at the dark sky, intoxicated by the frigid night air and admiring the tiny sliver of moon playing peek-a-boo with the clouds.
She’d been talking to herself―a terrible flaw she’d recently developed―and wishing aloud for a closer view of the moon. The next moment―the mundane little broom swooshed beneath her butt and took off in the night with her perched precariously on top of it.
“Good heavens,” Kirrah shrieked, so startled, she barely had time to grip the broom handle before it soared off into the dark and zoomed over the treetops with her held captive. That was when she realized…she was a for-sure-and-certain witch.
Leave a comment and have your name entered in a drawing to win a free E-copy of Witch’s Fire…Winner’s name to be announced tomorrow…
Visit my website at
Don’t forget to scope out the wonderful art of some of my characters…
Publisher…
http://www.moongypsypress.com
Books available in print at Amazon.com
E-format at Fictionwise and Barnes and Noble
Friday, March 19, 2010
WIP; Death Of Innocence
Dear Reader,
For about the past week or so, a friend and I have been running through another one of my back-burner, almost completed WIP’s. I love this book, as it was the first book I ever ‘completed’, but that was my views on writing then, and not now. So it just has to be brought up to speed a bit! This is an excerpt from the first novel in Foxworth Series, Death Of Innocence, Paranormal Romance. Hope you like it :)
Cheers,
Kayden
EXCERPT:
“Am I different too. I am not even like you.” She thought about the fact that no matter what, she never blended in, never belonged.
I exploded with bitter laughter, reluctant to steal her very young views of the world.
“Canya, no matter what race you are, where you come from, belonging is just a matter of opinion. You belong with me, with my family. We love and cherish you, and will always be at your side, no matter what. You are special, not different. A new breed, with a new power structure.” I could see my heartfelt words were not as believed as I wanted them to be.
She was resigned to always being different, an outcast. If anyone dared make her feel that way, I would take personal interest in him or her, make them see everything my way. I was persuasive, so much that many feared my…attentions. I’d chosen not to be a Hunter, but it didn’t make me incapable of it.
My family had enough connections, that when our name was breathed into the night, vampires second-guessed their own actions. No one came up against us, and won…
Until yesterday, but there wasn’t a winner until it was over. And this fight was far from completion.
Canya fought her creeping depression, telling herself that my words were true, but it didn’t help. Her raging mind would not give her rest, and I sought a way to relieve the terrible ache.
“Come on, let’s go.”
I pulled her to her feet, letting her fall forward against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, ignoring the searing desire, the Curse that wanted its mate.
But she wasn’t quite ready for that yet. I pushed it back, and it settled into the depths. It seemed the longer I had Canya close, and didn’t bond with her, the more agitated the Curse became. It wasn’t done yet.
“Where are we going?”
“Outside,” I answered, dragging her through the back door that led to the garden before I did something I would regret. I tickled her ribcage, and she smacked my hands away playfully.
“And why are we outside?”
The sunlight shone over the light sprinkling of white snow. Her hair caught the surreal light, throwing blue highlights through the strands that stretched past her waist.
She’d always enjoyed the outdoors, everything about nature. It was one of the many things about her that had dragged my attention, and held it.
“I want you to realize just how important nature is to us. We draw our power from everything around us. We need blood to live, just as the land needs to be fertilized. But this is our world Canya, look around you.” I held my arms out to encompass everything from the trees, to the ground, to the sky.
I wiggled my fingers and the snowflakes on the ground rose into the air, dancing at my bidding. They swirled into a small tornado, moving over the flagstones to where she stood.
Her laughter flowed over the picturesque landscape when she plunged her hands into the snow, coming up with a lump that she’d packed hard with her hands. A wicked light entered her eyes as she strolled forward.
I was caught up in the swing of her hips, so sensually seductive. And then she threw her white orb at me, with deadly accuracy. It pelted me on the forehead while I had been staring at her body, like the haven it was meant to be.
Dancing away from me, and I gave chase when she caught up her skirts to take off into the middle of the yard.
“I am going to get you for that,” I called to her, knowing I could catch her at any time, but giving her the illusion of safety.
“I’m counting on it.”
Dark thoughts were forgotten as I flicked both hands and the snow fell from the evergreen branches above her head. White flakes rained down around her, creating a solid sheet in every direction. I watched her turn left and right, looking for me, amusement bright on her face.
“This isn’t fair, Greg! How can I compete with this?” Canya called into the snow. She moved forward, but never leaving the enclosure.
I stayed just far enough away, always behind her, that she never found me.
“You shouldn’t throw those orbs at me then,” I whispered in her ear, moving with inhuman speed when she whirled around, but I wasn’t there.
She giggled as she plopped down into the snow. I watched her curiously as she began to pack more snow.
“Snow-balls Greg, they are called snow balls. Get into this century.” I couldn’t contain my laughter at her snide comment.
Her head snapped up in to direction where I had been only a moment before. A snow ‘ball’ came flying, exactly where my head had been.
“I am in this century, here with you.” I moved behind her, quiet as a mouse. She sat there making a rather large pile of projectiles, completely oblivious.
“Actually you are not here with me. It would seem, for all intents and purposes, that you are hiding from your fiancé. I think you are scared of getting pelted again.” Her teeth flashed in the sunlight, the snow creating a safe cocoon for her.
I grabbed her around the middle and she shrieked in my ear, tossing her over my shoulder with snow still grasped in her hands.
For about the past week or so, a friend and I have been running through another one of my back-burner, almost completed WIP’s. I love this book, as it was the first book I ever ‘completed’, but that was my views on writing then, and not now. So it just has to be brought up to speed a bit! This is an excerpt from the first novel in Foxworth Series, Death Of Innocence, Paranormal Romance. Hope you like it :)
Cheers,
Kayden
EXCERPT:
“Am I different too. I am not even like you.” She thought about the fact that no matter what, she never blended in, never belonged.
I exploded with bitter laughter, reluctant to steal her very young views of the world.
“Canya, no matter what race you are, where you come from, belonging is just a matter of opinion. You belong with me, with my family. We love and cherish you, and will always be at your side, no matter what. You are special, not different. A new breed, with a new power structure.” I could see my heartfelt words were not as believed as I wanted them to be.
She was resigned to always being different, an outcast. If anyone dared make her feel that way, I would take personal interest in him or her, make them see everything my way. I was persuasive, so much that many feared my…attentions. I’d chosen not to be a Hunter, but it didn’t make me incapable of it.
My family had enough connections, that when our name was breathed into the night, vampires second-guessed their own actions. No one came up against us, and won…
Until yesterday, but there wasn’t a winner until it was over. And this fight was far from completion.
Canya fought her creeping depression, telling herself that my words were true, but it didn’t help. Her raging mind would not give her rest, and I sought a way to relieve the terrible ache.
“Come on, let’s go.”
I pulled her to her feet, letting her fall forward against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, ignoring the searing desire, the Curse that wanted its mate.
But she wasn’t quite ready for that yet. I pushed it back, and it settled into the depths. It seemed the longer I had Canya close, and didn’t bond with her, the more agitated the Curse became. It wasn’t done yet.
“Where are we going?”
“Outside,” I answered, dragging her through the back door that led to the garden before I did something I would regret. I tickled her ribcage, and she smacked my hands away playfully.
“And why are we outside?”
The sunlight shone over the light sprinkling of white snow. Her hair caught the surreal light, throwing blue highlights through the strands that stretched past her waist.
She’d always enjoyed the outdoors, everything about nature. It was one of the many things about her that had dragged my attention, and held it.
“I want you to realize just how important nature is to us. We draw our power from everything around us. We need blood to live, just as the land needs to be fertilized. But this is our world Canya, look around you.” I held my arms out to encompass everything from the trees, to the ground, to the sky.
I wiggled my fingers and the snowflakes on the ground rose into the air, dancing at my bidding. They swirled into a small tornado, moving over the flagstones to where she stood.
Her laughter flowed over the picturesque landscape when she plunged her hands into the snow, coming up with a lump that she’d packed hard with her hands. A wicked light entered her eyes as she strolled forward.
I was caught up in the swing of her hips, so sensually seductive. And then she threw her white orb at me, with deadly accuracy. It pelted me on the forehead while I had been staring at her body, like the haven it was meant to be.
Dancing away from me, and I gave chase when she caught up her skirts to take off into the middle of the yard.
“I am going to get you for that,” I called to her, knowing I could catch her at any time, but giving her the illusion of safety.
“I’m counting on it.”
Dark thoughts were forgotten as I flicked both hands and the snow fell from the evergreen branches above her head. White flakes rained down around her, creating a solid sheet in every direction. I watched her turn left and right, looking for me, amusement bright on her face.
“This isn’t fair, Greg! How can I compete with this?” Canya called into the snow. She moved forward, but never leaving the enclosure.
I stayed just far enough away, always behind her, that she never found me.
“You shouldn’t throw those orbs at me then,” I whispered in her ear, moving with inhuman speed when she whirled around, but I wasn’t there.
She giggled as she plopped down into the snow. I watched her curiously as she began to pack more snow.
“Snow-balls Greg, they are called snow balls. Get into this century.” I couldn’t contain my laughter at her snide comment.
Her head snapped up in to direction where I had been only a moment before. A snow ‘ball’ came flying, exactly where my head had been.
“I am in this century, here with you.” I moved behind her, quiet as a mouse. She sat there making a rather large pile of projectiles, completely oblivious.
“Actually you are not here with me. It would seem, for all intents and purposes, that you are hiding from your fiancé. I think you are scared of getting pelted again.” Her teeth flashed in the sunlight, the snow creating a safe cocoon for her.
I grabbed her around the middle and she shrieked in my ear, tossing her over my shoulder with snow still grasped in her hands.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Tabitha Shay Presents: Witches's Fire
---TAG---
IN A WORLD WHERE MAGIC IS DYING
TWO STRANGERS COLLIDE…
BLURB FOR WITCH’S FIRE
In a world where magic is dying―two people meet under unusual circumstances…
Realm of light―New to this witchy stuff, Kirrah Walker crashes her broom into a stranger and knocks him unconscious. Feeling guilty, she takes him home with her and nurses him back to health. However, she soon discovers a terrible secret―the stranger is on a mission to assassinate a witch. Now Kirrah must decide if she’ll set him free or keep him tied to the headboard of her bed…
World of darkness―Prince Stry, future King of Ru-Noc awakens to find he’s not only a captive, but captivated by the charming witch who flutters around him like a nervous butterfly. Her magick is wild and so out of control, he knows in his heart he must steal her soul, but kissing Kirrah is habit-forming.
Kirrah and Stry―magical beings who must face the fear of their past, acknowledge their future and trust in destiny in a world gone mad…
EXCERPT--Slowly, she drew her fingertip down the length. Up. Down. Up. Down. Her finger marched like a little soldier. Up. Down. Her eyes widened as ‘it’ lengthened even more. “Holy, dunghill!” Her fingertip stilled, right in the center of the now very firm bulge.
Abruptly strong fingers locked around her wrist. “You keep licking your lips and stroking, button, and I’m gonna want to do a little licking and stroking of my own. Only―it won’t be up and down. I’ll do my own sweet dance to the sound of a different rhythm. And believe me, buttercup, I know how to put every inch of it to good use.”
Friday, September 11, 2009
A Different Breed Of Magic
Dear Reader,
In the world I’ve created, witches do exist, though their reason for being isn’t atypical to popular belief. Last time I told you a little about how vampires were created, but my witches are nothing more than a by-product of them.
To grow their numbers, vampires mated not only with each other, but with the humans they tried to ape. It took them a while to figure out they could convert these ‘new toys’ into something that resembled themselves. They bred, and those children were mortal half-bloods.
In those early days, before vampires had extensively diluted their blood by mixing so much with the humans and converted, the half-bloods had been almost as strong and powerful as their creators. They could bend the earth’s natural laws and manipulate energy however they saw fit.
Though there are still many thoroughly powerful witches among us today, their numbers as well have dwindled to near nothingness compared to what they used to be, but their lesser offspring run rampant. The thinned blood through the generations have sired a variety of different skills in humanity.
Sometimes it manifests as a singular power, such as telekinesis or a healing ability. Sometimes they are able to work with herbs and stones to focus with energy. Though on the occasion a powerful one much like their ancestors, emerges from the dredges. These half-humans harness terrifying power, and if they don’t have a guide to show them what they are, and how to manage their supremacy, the chances of madness skyrockets.
Most witches fear the vampires, and make a point of staying away from them. Even with the blood, they don’t fall under the Council’s rule, since their priority is their brethren and keeping the secrets safe. Though the establishment will not hesitate to kill a witch that endangers the secret.
There are many beings in my world, and this is just the tip of the iceberg. Look forward to more!
Until Next Time…
Kayden McLeod
In the world I’ve created, witches do exist, though their reason for being isn’t atypical to popular belief. Last time I told you a little about how vampires were created, but my witches are nothing more than a by-product of them.
To grow their numbers, vampires mated not only with each other, but with the humans they tried to ape. It took them a while to figure out they could convert these ‘new toys’ into something that resembled themselves. They bred, and those children were mortal half-bloods.
In those early days, before vampires had extensively diluted their blood by mixing so much with the humans and converted, the half-bloods had been almost as strong and powerful as their creators. They could bend the earth’s natural laws and manipulate energy however they saw fit.
Though there are still many thoroughly powerful witches among us today, their numbers as well have dwindled to near nothingness compared to what they used to be, but their lesser offspring run rampant. The thinned blood through the generations have sired a variety of different skills in humanity.
Sometimes it manifests as a singular power, such as telekinesis or a healing ability. Sometimes they are able to work with herbs and stones to focus with energy. Though on the occasion a powerful one much like their ancestors, emerges from the dredges. These half-humans harness terrifying power, and if they don’t have a guide to show them what they are, and how to manage their supremacy, the chances of madness skyrockets.
Most witches fear the vampires, and make a point of staying away from them. Even with the blood, they don’t fall under the Council’s rule, since their priority is their brethren and keeping the secrets safe. Though the establishment will not hesitate to kill a witch that endangers the secret.
There are many beings in my world, and this is just the tip of the iceberg. Look forward to more!
Until Next Time…
Kayden McLeod
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Welcome Tabitha, and her new book Witch's Magic
Hello Readers!
My fellow Paranormal author at Eternal Press, Tabitha Shay, has just released her latest book in the Winslow Witches series, Witch’s Magic. I’m excited to present to you the prologue of this latest fabulous book. So, please read on!
Hint, hint….where to buy: www.eternalpress.ca
http://www.tabithashay.com
Disclaimer: Explicit Language….eighteen plus, please.
Until next time…
Tabitha
Prologue of Witch's Magic
We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things.
~Dracula (Bram Stoker)
Transylvania
Anghel Crypt
Resting Place of Dracula
Mortal Realm
A Do Not Disturb sign swung from an old, rusty chain at the foot of his coffin. He knew it was there.
By the gods, he’d hung it himself before retiring at least five centuries ago.
So why am I being disturbed? Damned illiterates, can’t they read? How was a creature supposed to rest if…?
I said wake up! I need your help.
Annoyed at the rude intrusion blasting his mind and interrupting his most private thoughts, Count Dracula snorted. I hoped it was merely indigestion giving me heartburn or the wind rattling my chain, but truly, do I hear an upstart who dares to enter my sanctum? Go away!
He had not walked among his clan in many centuries. And there was good reason. The world held no surprises. No happiness. No romance. Chivalry was as good as dead. Buried. Well, dead, maybe not buried. He shuddered at the thought of being under all that dirt. And by the gods, he was the most chivalrous being he knew.
Still, it was downright depressing. There were no more knights in shining armor. No damsels in distress. No Rapunzels with thick ropes of hair to toss out a tower window and her one true love scale the wall to rescue her from the evildoer. No unicorns. The last dragon was slain right before he decided he’d had enough of the world.
He’d seen and done it all to the point of boredom; to avoid spending useless years with nothing better to do with his time than to suck and fuck, he took to his coffin centuries early. To be content a vampire needed challenge. Romance. Sex. Oh yeah, lots of the hot stuff.
Brutal honesty forced him to admit he was glad he no longer spent time with his clan, but he hadn’t exactly resigned his position of Ruler of the Ancient Tribunal. It was more like he’d materialized into a bat one night and winged his way off the job, leaving an abrupt message he’d had enough. He’d planned to spend the next several millennia in the sacred Sleep of the Druze, an ancient sleep, and one only the very eldest achieved.
He hadn’t obtained his goal…yet.
The only thing he craved was peace. Rest. Quiet. He had no need to feed, except when the hunger became too much to ignore. He was perfectly happy snatching a bothersome rat when one ventured too close to his coffin. Then he had a quickie snack and went back to sleep.
Rats were good. Dammit, they were!
They might not be hardy, filling or nutritious, but they contained enough blood to sustain life…for a few weeks at a time.
Being one of the Ancients, his need for rest was much more crucial than his need to feed. At his age, all he wanted to do was prop up his feet, so to speak. Yes, peace and quiet was all he craved now. Well, and the occasional female. Two. Three.
No one had dared to disturb him...until now.
So who was this, this person who called to him? A voice he did not recognize. Not surprising. It had been a long time since he’d mentally connected with anyone. He’d pretty much forgotten the sound of speech.
He stirred inside the raggedy satin-lined coffin hidden in a decaying old crypt, all but lost by the passage of time. The only ones who knew where he slumbered were the two other members of the Ancient Tribunal. So how had the upstart rapping on his coffin dug him up?
Get up!
Dracula cocked an ear. Nope, he didn’t have a clue who was silently yelling at him. It wasn’t an Ancient who summoned, but one of the Children, one of the Young Ones.
Annoyance surged through his veins, veins dried and withered to threads from lack of sustenance. Waking an Ancient who had not fed thoroughly for years was strictly forbidden to the Young Ones. It created a danger for all who came near him for several hours.
There were rules, and reasons for those rules. If awakened in a state of extreme hunger, he’d attack and feed until he drained the person dry; then he’d go for the next, and the next, until he was engorged.
Gluttony was a shameful act for his kind. He’d die from embarrassment if discovered devouring his food, that is, if the undead weren’t already in that precarious state.
It was imperative he be awakened slowly.
Nourished slowly.
Regain his strength slowly.
And it was extremely vital at least four females awaited him when he rose. Everyone knew a vampire who’d Druze-slept woke violently horny.
You dare break the laws of our people? Disobey my orders? Ignore my sign? Disturb my slumber?
Yes! Now, get up!
Stop knocking on my coffin! I’m at rest. I need my rest. Go away, upstart.
I need your help, your wisdom, your guidance.
Do I know you?
Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am, Grandfather. You might be Ancient, but there’s nothing wrong with your memory.
Huh?
And don’t pretend you’re deaf. I know your hearing is acute. You can hear a pin drop three miles away.
Huh! Do you have four females waiting for me?
No. You don’t have time to fuck.
No time to fuck? Incredulous, Dracula’s eyes popped open. Aw, shit! There are two spiders doing ‘it’ on the ceiling of my coffin! He shuddered. You know what that means? I’ll be sharing my sleeping quarters with hundreds of their little bastards. I detest the creatures. Always moving in and taking over a fellow’s home. I suppose that means I must give up my bed.
He cleared his throat. Son, listen to me very closely. One must always make time to fuck. Spiders do.
“Filthy vermin. Freeloaders. Go find your own house!” He slapped at the ill-mannered eight-legged arachnids doing the ‘nasty’ above his head.
I’m not your son. And no, there is no time. A war comes, a terrible war.
You woke me because of a lousy war? Pish! There have always been wars. There will always be wars.
Not like this one.
A sigh. What is different about this one? Nothing. Don’t you recall your bloody ancestor and all his wars? Do you have any idea how many people I impaled? Now those were the good old days. Chop. Chop. They got in the way, up on the pike they went. I made damn certain of it. Just thinking about it makes me tired. Let me go back to sleep. There will be casualties, son. There are always casualties. We live. Some die. Others do not. Our kind goes on…if we breed. To breed we must fuck! No time to fuck, my ass! I want to talk to the person who schooled you. He didn’t teach you a thing. Who was he?
You.
Oh.
There’s no time for sex, Grandfather. Not this time. There’s no time to waste. We are too few.
Uh-huh, that’s from not fucking!
For the gods’ sake, this war might see the end of our kind.
A snort. Why do you think such nonsense?
Because this war isn’t simply battles amongst our own, but one that will include the forces from all realms: Vampyre, Demon, Witch and Were. Only the gods know which other realms might become involved. I’m afraid it’s only the beginning. You must rise.
I don’t want to rise.
You’ve slept long enough, Grandfather. Get up. I can’t do this by myself. Get up. Now!
All right! Stop ordering me to get up. No need to get snappy. How do you know this war comes?
I’ve seen it in visions.
Visions? If you’ve seen it in visions, then when will it come? I could sleep until…
No. Get up. Now!
A drawn-out suffering sigh.
When will it begin?
It has already begun…
My fellow Paranormal author at Eternal Press, Tabitha Shay, has just released her latest book in the Winslow Witches series, Witch’s Magic. I’m excited to present to you the prologue of this latest fabulous book. So, please read on!
Hint, hint….where to buy: www.eternalpress.ca
http://www.tabithashay.com
Disclaimer: Explicit Language….eighteen plus, please.
Until next time…
Tabitha
Prologue of Witch's Magic
We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things.
~Dracula (Bram Stoker)
Transylvania
Anghel Crypt
Resting Place of Dracula
Mortal Realm
A Do Not Disturb sign swung from an old, rusty chain at the foot of his coffin. He knew it was there.
By the gods, he’d hung it himself before retiring at least five centuries ago.
So why am I being disturbed? Damned illiterates, can’t they read? How was a creature supposed to rest if…?
I said wake up! I need your help.
Annoyed at the rude intrusion blasting his mind and interrupting his most private thoughts, Count Dracula snorted. I hoped it was merely indigestion giving me heartburn or the wind rattling my chain, but truly, do I hear an upstart who dares to enter my sanctum? Go away!
He had not walked among his clan in many centuries. And there was good reason. The world held no surprises. No happiness. No romance. Chivalry was as good as dead. Buried. Well, dead, maybe not buried. He shuddered at the thought of being under all that dirt. And by the gods, he was the most chivalrous being he knew.
Still, it was downright depressing. There were no more knights in shining armor. No damsels in distress. No Rapunzels with thick ropes of hair to toss out a tower window and her one true love scale the wall to rescue her from the evildoer. No unicorns. The last dragon was slain right before he decided he’d had enough of the world.
He’d seen and done it all to the point of boredom; to avoid spending useless years with nothing better to do with his time than to suck and fuck, he took to his coffin centuries early. To be content a vampire needed challenge. Romance. Sex. Oh yeah, lots of the hot stuff.
Brutal honesty forced him to admit he was glad he no longer spent time with his clan, but he hadn’t exactly resigned his position of Ruler of the Ancient Tribunal. It was more like he’d materialized into a bat one night and winged his way off the job, leaving an abrupt message he’d had enough. He’d planned to spend the next several millennia in the sacred Sleep of the Druze, an ancient sleep, and one only the very eldest achieved.
He hadn’t obtained his goal…yet.
The only thing he craved was peace. Rest. Quiet. He had no need to feed, except when the hunger became too much to ignore. He was perfectly happy snatching a bothersome rat when one ventured too close to his coffin. Then he had a quickie snack and went back to sleep.
Rats were good. Dammit, they were!
They might not be hardy, filling or nutritious, but they contained enough blood to sustain life…for a few weeks at a time.
Being one of the Ancients, his need for rest was much more crucial than his need to feed. At his age, all he wanted to do was prop up his feet, so to speak. Yes, peace and quiet was all he craved now. Well, and the occasional female. Two. Three.
No one had dared to disturb him...until now.
So who was this, this person who called to him? A voice he did not recognize. Not surprising. It had been a long time since he’d mentally connected with anyone. He’d pretty much forgotten the sound of speech.
He stirred inside the raggedy satin-lined coffin hidden in a decaying old crypt, all but lost by the passage of time. The only ones who knew where he slumbered were the two other members of the Ancient Tribunal. So how had the upstart rapping on his coffin dug him up?
Get up!
Dracula cocked an ear. Nope, he didn’t have a clue who was silently yelling at him. It wasn’t an Ancient who summoned, but one of the Children, one of the Young Ones.
Annoyance surged through his veins, veins dried and withered to threads from lack of sustenance. Waking an Ancient who had not fed thoroughly for years was strictly forbidden to the Young Ones. It created a danger for all who came near him for several hours.
There were rules, and reasons for those rules. If awakened in a state of extreme hunger, he’d attack and feed until he drained the person dry; then he’d go for the next, and the next, until he was engorged.
Gluttony was a shameful act for his kind. He’d die from embarrassment if discovered devouring his food, that is, if the undead weren’t already in that precarious state.
It was imperative he be awakened slowly.
Nourished slowly.
Regain his strength slowly.
And it was extremely vital at least four females awaited him when he rose. Everyone knew a vampire who’d Druze-slept woke violently horny.
You dare break the laws of our people? Disobey my orders? Ignore my sign? Disturb my slumber?
Yes! Now, get up!
Stop knocking on my coffin! I’m at rest. I need my rest. Go away, upstart.
I need your help, your wisdom, your guidance.
Do I know you?
Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am, Grandfather. You might be Ancient, but there’s nothing wrong with your memory.
Huh?
And don’t pretend you’re deaf. I know your hearing is acute. You can hear a pin drop three miles away.
Huh! Do you have four females waiting for me?
No. You don’t have time to fuck.
No time to fuck? Incredulous, Dracula’s eyes popped open. Aw, shit! There are two spiders doing ‘it’ on the ceiling of my coffin! He shuddered. You know what that means? I’ll be sharing my sleeping quarters with hundreds of their little bastards. I detest the creatures. Always moving in and taking over a fellow’s home. I suppose that means I must give up my bed.
He cleared his throat. Son, listen to me very closely. One must always make time to fuck. Spiders do.
“Filthy vermin. Freeloaders. Go find your own house!” He slapped at the ill-mannered eight-legged arachnids doing the ‘nasty’ above his head.
I’m not your son. And no, there is no time. A war comes, a terrible war.
You woke me because of a lousy war? Pish! There have always been wars. There will always be wars.
Not like this one.
A sigh. What is different about this one? Nothing. Don’t you recall your bloody ancestor and all his wars? Do you have any idea how many people I impaled? Now those were the good old days. Chop. Chop. They got in the way, up on the pike they went. I made damn certain of it. Just thinking about it makes me tired. Let me go back to sleep. There will be casualties, son. There are always casualties. We live. Some die. Others do not. Our kind goes on…if we breed. To breed we must fuck! No time to fuck, my ass! I want to talk to the person who schooled you. He didn’t teach you a thing. Who was he?
You.
Oh.
There’s no time for sex, Grandfather. Not this time. There’s no time to waste. We are too few.
Uh-huh, that’s from not fucking!
For the gods’ sake, this war might see the end of our kind.
A snort. Why do you think such nonsense?
Because this war isn’t simply battles amongst our own, but one that will include the forces from all realms: Vampyre, Demon, Witch and Were. Only the gods know which other realms might become involved. I’m afraid it’s only the beginning. You must rise.
I don’t want to rise.
You’ve slept long enough, Grandfather. Get up. I can’t do this by myself. Get up. Now!
All right! Stop ordering me to get up. No need to get snappy. How do you know this war comes?
I’ve seen it in visions.
Visions? If you’ve seen it in visions, then when will it come? I could sleep until…
No. Get up. Now!
A drawn-out suffering sigh.
When will it begin?
It has already begun…
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