Category: Science Fiction

Cain – A Vampire Hunters Academy Novel

Cain – A Vampire Hunters Academy Novel

Year: 2011 AD

City of Los Angeles

Cain inhaled the rich, husky sweet scent that haunted his senses for the last few months. Great. Just what he needed. He knew that this day would once again arrive. After all, he’d witnessed it time and time again. As a matter of fact, he was the very reason the Light sent a weapon of natural destruction against his kind. He sucked in another deep breath. His skin prickled and tingled as erotic chills coursed down his spine. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be consumed by the sheer force of it. The urge to seek her out intensified. He could easily begin the seduction, convince her to resent her caretakers and turn her against her very instincts.

However, this time around, it would not be so wise to make such a bold move.

Things were different. To make a direct move on a fledgling Huntress would be suicide, and with times being so uncertain with the “end of days” quickly approaching, there was a much bigger plan at stake.

“She is strong…” Cain heard himself say. Licking his lips, his fangs crested at the mere thought of her. Soon she would become a master manipulator of the elements; her thirst for his blood would surpass his own for human; angels would bow to her command and she would lead an army that Napoleon, Nero, and Julius himself would envy. She was designed to be a masterpiece of warrior art. She would come to understand combat as she would lovemaking. Oh, to imagine her as a lover. Intense would hardly be the word to describe what she would be. Goddess of sensuality, Aphrodite, would not be able to hold a candle to her.

He had seen this in the Huntresses that came before this one, but the power that this particular Huntress emitted even at this distance was different.

“I do not know where you are sweet Huntress, but I will find you…soon…” he promised.

The Vampire Hunters Academy, the school for gifted humans and refuge for Guardians had not registered her in their books. Every Huntress born within the last two thousand years had attended that school. Those that came before that, he had to find the hard way. This only meant that the Guardians, those who were destined to protect her, had not found her yet.

Why?

Why would the Light not place her in the care of those most skilled to protect her until she could protect herself? What game was being played? The desire to hunt her, to taste her blood, to have her bend to his will became overwhelming. His gumline thickened, lengthening his fangs. Blood coursed to the baser regions of his body. Blood. That’s what he needed. Her blood. Human blood.

He chuckled at the mere thought of it all; blood is where it began for him. Blood is what he paid for his ever-growing list of sins.

His story began in blood and he held the sneaking suspicion that blood is where his story would end.

He inhaled deeply, appreciating the chill of the night air from the rooftop that overlooked the city. The city’s lights lit up the sky, while humans down below scurried about their meaningless and pointless lives. Licking his lips, he contemplated whom would be his next victim this night, while simultaneously wondering how the humans he fed on lived such short lives but the blood they provided offered him eternity?   Blood, his power, his pleasure, his pain – essentially his curse – he would forever remain bound to it. For eternity he would remain a slave to his more basic desires. He was a monster among men, a living breathing plague.

And it all began with blood…the blood of his brother Abel…

Available now!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0852TFT7C

Viper: Chapter Excerpt 2

Viper: Chapter Excerpt 2

Viper….

I take my time dematerializing to Miami. I stop along the way in a few cities including Dallas, Texas, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and then finally Myrtle Beach, North Carolina to feed. There is no way I am depleting my energy resources all at once especially not knowing what type of dangers I will be facing. I feasted on a young hustler whom was busy getting his dick sucked in the alley by what I would assume to be one of his clients, followed by an under dressed woman with bullying tendencies at one of Louisiana’s local bars, and then finished off with a police officer who busy doing everything else but protecting and serving. And three hours later I was back in front of the same snobby hotel that Rio had set me and Kevin to.

I can’t pick up Kevin’s scent anywhere, or Rio’s musky scent. I check my phone and search my email for the itinerary, and Kevin is scheduled to perform at a very popular strip club called King of Diamonds. I hate strippers. I hate strip clubs. The only good stripper is a stripper writhing underneath my grip as I tear out his or her throat. The smell of sex, money, greed, lust, lies, deceit…irritate the fuck out of me. Not that I am a saint. I probably have a first class seat in hell (if there is such a place) with my name on it. But I am full, and I have a mission to accomplish.  Besides, places like strip clubs, night clubs and bars are swarming with vampires, werewolves, and other beings that I don’t fuck with.

I flag down a cab, and the driver is a middle aged and disgustingly overweight bag of human filth and disease. Even if I were dying of thirst I would never sink my teeth into that living sack of puss. The only reason why I am inside this piece of shit called a cab is because I have no clue where King of Diamonds is actually located, and I do not have the patience or the time to try to figure it out. I have been inside many strip clubs, but this would be my first experience at King of Diamonds. This is going to be very, very interesting.

The sack of puss attempted to engage me in unnecessary conversation, but after delivering a glare that should have killed him, he resumed his drive, which was less than 30 minutes from where he picked me up at. I gave him his ridiculously high fare and no tip, and he skirted off into the night. The club was packed, there was a line wrapped around the corner to get in. Every hustler with a few dollars in his pocket to spend, every rapper that happened to be in the area, women of all colors and body types and barely dressed came out to support Kevin…and of the course the silicone fused strippers. I will give King of Diamonds its props, however. The strippers were of high caliber since this was no ordinary strip joint found in shadier parts of the city. No, this was where real ballers came to play, and one was spending a few thousand on a round of top shelf liquor, then that he should just stay home. King of Diamonds is not a place for rookie hustlers even though many tried to get in.

Fortunately, I did not need to worry about getting passed the bouncer. I dematerialized inside the building. The interior was built similar to that of a stadium, circular seating surrounding an actual boxing ring where I guess the contests ranging from twerking, to advanced forms of stripping took place. I stick to the shadows, avoiding eye contact with the vast array of men seated nearest the bar area. The scents that clouded the atmosphere were intoxicating, mixture of  blood types laced with variant levels of liquor, drugs and hormones. I also picked up the all too familiar scents of older vampires lurking around looking for their next meal, and there was something else that I could not quite figure out….the scent was vague, yet heavy enough for me to pick up, and awfully thick. It made the saliva in my mouth thicken and my fangs lengthen, and my body tensed as if preparing for a fight and then the realization slammed right into me: werewolf.

Great. Exactly what I needed at a time like this. Why the hell was a goddamn werewolf in King of Diamonds in the presence of several and very old vampires?  Something was not right and now was not the time for me to find out. Moving past the bar I near the VIP section, and nothing but ass and tits bounced near and around me. One stripper sashayed past me and gave me a look that was clearly an invitation for some fun, and I ignored her. Even though I do not do men, I don’t do chicks either and I am not about to now. She looked surprised but my rude decline but just as quickly found her someone who was more than happy to accept whatever it was she offered. Several women ranging from tall and busty to short and curvy bypassed me and asked if I needed something, but this time I was forced to lie and say I was waiting for someone otherwise I would have drawn unwanted attention to myself.

I found an empty table nearest an exit and took a seat. Still no sign of Kevin or Rio. I glanced at the flyer that was lying on the table, and it confirmed that he is definitely performing tonight. As I read the flyer, a dark entity crept up next to me and took a seat. Another vampire, and an old one at that. She was dressed in dark blue business attire, with creamy white skin with peachy undertones, blonde hair piled neatly on top of her head in a bun and  green eyes that eyed me with a delighted curiosity. She smiled and said, “Wrong night for a baby vampire to be out alone. Where is your maker darling?” I glared at her. “And why should that be any of your concern?” “Normally, I don’t entertain younger vamps but you my dear intrigue me. And those that intrigue me get a warning.” She smiled once more, but this time showing me a fine set of lengthy and sharp fangs. “Whatever you are here for, drop it and leave. All of these people are dead, they just don’t know it yet.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” I lean in closer to her, listening intently to what she has to say. As much as I would like to run a stake through her heart, I know that I have to listen. She chuckles to herself as if what she is about to tell me is a joke, and she motions for a server, a short haired and thickly built young woman dressed in nothing but a thong and some heels struts over to our table carrying a trey with liquor filled cups. “Thank you so much darling,” the vampire said taking a drink and seductively eyeing the stripper. The stripper winked at her and quickly left to attend to the other patrons. “Tonight is the annual blood fest. That is why I asked you about your maker because this blood fest started half a century ago taking place in business establishments that sell sex, liquor and drugs. KOD is the perfect setting for such a feast, and all of the more seasoned vampires know about it….” She leaned in closer and added in a whisper, “And babies are not allowed unless by invite.” She sat back to watch my expression as the energy in the building darkened. More “seasoned” vamps had entered the premises. I sigh and then lean in towards her, beckoning for her to lean in closer as I say, “So if there is supposed to be a blood fest,” I whisper. “Then why the fuck is a werewolf here?” Her eyes widened as she glanced around nervously. “Where?” She asked anxiously. “I caught the scent when I first entered and I can still smell it. You don’t?” She inhaled deeply and the center of her irises illuminated a soft red glow. Translation: Get the fuck out of here.  She got up quickly and with a speed that clearly wasn’t human and disappeared into the crowd.

Vampires don’t fuck with werewolves. Ever. I was still a newly turned vampire right after Rio found me when I got into a fight with a werewolf. He was older than me by twenty years, and had Lucas been decent enough to properly school me on the life of a vampire, he would have told me that werewolves were no joke and the only threat to a vampire’s existence. I fought him with everything I had but the bastard was stronger, faster, and much more experienced and if it wasn’t for another vampire who had watched the whole thing take place, I would not be here. It took two of us to kill the fucker, and once it was done the vampire informed me that a bite from a werewolf is lethal to our kind and that they are our natural enemies. He told me that my best bet to deal with a werewolf is to run like hell, because once they have one of us in their sights a fight is imminent.

I don’t blame blondie for leaving. Once I became aware of its presence I wanted to leave too, but unfortunately, duty calls.

I could simply leave both of these foolish men to die gruesome deaths on general principal for fucking me over. Rio already had it coming, and Kevin probably just on association…But in all real honesty I need Kevin to track down Lucas. Or to at least draw him out of whatever hell hole he was hiding in.

A light skinned stripper with long mermaid like weave, with thick legs and more than bountiful assets stepped into the arena taking center stage. The guy dressed as a referee came out and introduced her as “Candy Cane”. The crowd went nuts, as she demonstrated showmanship by parading out in front of the crowd dressed in a red and white bikini, courtesy of her nickname when one of Kevin’s songs came on called “The Trap”. The audience cheered, and even the strippers that worked the crowd became hyped over the heavy, slow bass of this popular song. She gyrated and clapped her ass cheeks together and then whined her way down to a perfect split before tossing away the top. Several ballers who had the ring side seats rained thousands of dollars on her as she continued to put on a show.  As the song winded down I caught Kevin’s scent somewhere off in the crowd nearest the stage. I guess the stripper was his introduction.

Once she was off the stage, the referee was met with the promoter of the club to introduce the performer. The promoter, a muscled Latino with perfectly bronzed skin and arched eyebrows stepped into the forefront, dressed in denim, a jean jacket and a Polo took the mic and yelled into the crowd, “Ladies and Fellas it is my pleasure to introduce to you my friend who is also one of the greatest up and comers in the game to the stage. Ladies hold your panties, Fellas hold your drinks. Please give it up for my boy, Kevin Baaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnneeeeeeessssssss!” Kevin struts up into the boxing ring looking as if just the other night never happened and he was still signed to his brother’s record label. He takes the mic and scans the crowd and smiles like a little boy in a candy store as the stripper struts by him and plants a kiss on the cheek. He playfully slaps her on the ass, which for some reason makes me want to kill him more, and then cues the DJ to drop the beat.

The audience is captivated by his lyrical flow, the content based around his life in New York and how his father left a legacy shrouded in fear and pain. I had to give it to him, he was good but time was of essence. I slipped closer to the front, receiving a few hateful glances from patrons who actually paid to sit where they were seated. I did not see Rio, but I could sense his presence just beyond the ring. I also had the displeasure of sensing the very close presence of the werewolf who had called in reinforcements because just three rows ahead of me I detected three more, all male and looking more than ready for a fight.

Kevin breaks into another song that is just as hyped, and the strippers lost their ever lovin’ minds. Lap dances ran rampant, thongs and skimpy tops came off. The liquor kept coming and so did other things…I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to make it past the three werewolves. Clearly these entities were hired because whoever the owner was knew about the yearly blood fest and was taking protective measures. Why vampires would be this sloppy is beyond me. As the song concluded, all hell started to break loose.  One of the patrons got a little too hostile over a stripper paying too  much attention to another paying customer and started an argument with the other customer, bringing attention from the werewolves. That was my cue to disappear behind the ring and make my way into the “Employees Only” entryway.

Once my heart rate normalized, I followed the scents and sounds that filtered down the corridors. Thankfully the halls were empty, but the sound of my boots slamming against the linoleum floor did not help my cause. I dematerialize and ride the airwaves, searching the halls until I come across Kevin’s dressing room, and guess who is inside? Rio. I materialize inside and the man is not very happy to see me. He was in the middle of entertaining another one of his associates in the spacious room, and for me to magically appear out of thin air sent him over the edge.  His associate turns ghastly white at my appearance, and just for show, I smile at him with lengthy fangs on full display. Both one of them seemed to know what to say, and quite frankly it would be better for them to not say one mumbling word.

I should kill both of them. No. I should kill the middle aged acquaintance of his and make him watch. As I deliberate on what would be my best course of torturous action, I caught the associate hit a button on his phone, and I knew right then he activated a call for security. “Son of a bitch,” I growl as I snatch him and toss him to the other side of the room like an old shoe and I grab Rio and dematerialize. His screams could be heard echoing throughout the halls but I get him outside of the club and into the safety of the dark parking lot. I drop him onto the pavement as I take form. He attempts to scamper away but stomp my foot down on his leg, stopping him right in his tracks. His fear spiked the air with an intoxicating smell that triggered a very familiar hunger despite the fact that I am already well fed. I lower my fangs to intensify his fear. Yes Rio, you have absolutely and positively without a doubt fucked up, I think to myself. I should drag his ass back to my storage facility and force him to pick his own snake. Too bad my Anaconda had not reached maturity for me figure out if constrictors were capable of swallowing a human. I find myself completely lost in my own sadistic thoughts that I don’t even hear them coming.

Someone nailed me in the back with 6000 volts of electricity that made me forget that I am a vampire with unlimited strengths and abilities. The last thing I remember as I hit the ground was Rio’s face smiling in relief.

I have more than nine lives you son of a bitch. I am coming for you.

BLACK GIRLS LIKE ROMANCE TOO: F*CK A THUG, GIVE ME A FAERY

Romance novels bring in millions of dollars in sales per year which is big indicator that the need for a little romantic fantasy is alive and well. Within recent years, Paranormal romance has saturated the market, taking the need for romantic fantasy up a notch and onto another level; giving vampires or werewolves the leading man roles and becoming every woman’s sexual fantasy. I was never really a fan of romance until I would say around 2009 when my mother introduced me to J.R. Ward, author of the Black Dagger Brotherhood series, and let me tell you I fell in love after the first page of reading Lover Revealed and now I have the entire series and I am waiting with tremendous anxiety for her release of The Shadows. And then, in September, a close friend of mine introduced me to another author whom has been around longer than what I initially assumed with her Highlander books, Karen Marie Moning, and now I am completely hooked on her stuff and I am desperate to begin her Fever series. So, now I have a deep appreciation for the romance/paranormal romance genres and as a writer, I find myself headed over in that direction. I mean, what woman does not want to read a story that has a great plot, juicy sex scenes and a man that you pray to the stars above to grant you one wish of making him a reality? Which leads me to this:

So far, I have yet to stumble upon a series of romance/paranormal romance novels where the leading lady is black (hell, I will even take Hispanic, Asian, whatever just so I don’t just make it a “black thing”). Do interracial and/or African American romance novels just not appeal to traditional readers? Unfortunately, too many black writers are fascinated on Street Sagas: you know, the stories involving drugs, prison time, death, snitching, promiscuous and scandalous women, and the sex scenes resemble something out of a cheap porn video? Yes, those. Now I will admit in my younger years I was into it because the stories were juicy and intriguing, but now that I am older, my tastes have changed. I want something different. I want love making and not fucking. I want a chivalrous and valiant man to come to my rescue even over something as small as what am I going to eat for dinner. I am a black woman and I like romance too.

What is even worse is that after Googling (is that a word? lol) black authors of romance novels, quite a few of them used white characters. I don’t know if it is just their thing and it’s just easier for them or if they think that is the only way that they can sell their books but I did not like it one bit. Why should anyone of color feel like the only way to sell their stories is to create an all white cast? Or, the leading man is black but the leading lady is white? What is so wrong about creating a strong, sexy, intelligent female character that happens to be black? I am tired of what is labeled as “Urban” fiction. My first novel happens to be of the urban fiction genre but not because that is where I saw myself but because the story simply came to me and I had to write it down, BUT my leading man Trey, was positive. He was romantic and most importantly, he and Danielle had a happy ending. The point is, I have spoken to a number of my friends and associates who happen to be black, and they have shared an interest in reading paranormal romance/romance. White women are not the only ones who want those Fairytale happy endings with a man who is built like stallion and possesses the stamina of a god. Publishers and agents alike should see that there is a market for interracial, and African American romance/paranormal romance. Not all of us are into the street sagas.

I will conclude with this : F*ck a thug and give me a Faery (a vampire or werewolf will do ;)). I want to tap into the wild side of the supernatural and the paranormal. I want to wake up on the other side of reality where the man in the mirror is my destiny or the vampire, desperate for redemption needs only my love to save him. Yes, give it to me please. I hope that this blog simply gives you readers something to think about and I look forward to whatever comments you have to share.

Nubia Rising: The Awakening Sample Chapter

Nubia Rising: The Awakening Sample Chapter

Kitara could feel the energy from Atlantis burning through her veins as she allowed its power to fully engulf her. She was one with the pyramid now, and even as Isis sent out blasts of dark magic from her palms none of it could touch her. It was not long before Isis realized that she had no other alternative. Her plan had failed. Thousands of years of planning, scheming, and killing and it all had went down the drain. But, one thing was for sure even if tonight she and her husband could not harness the powers of the lost city of Atlantis, she was sure as shit going to get her husband back. She could feel the Osirian realms slowly opening up and it was a matter of time before the world was reintroduced to the greatest god ever created. And, Isis couldn’t wait to see Kitara’s face when Osiris came walking out of that hell hole that Naomi sent him to looking as grand as ever. And the best part of it was that even without Atlantis, the two of them together would be unstoppable.

Kitara’s natural golden stare became solid silver as the rest of her body began to illuminate that same glow. Unsheathing Oblivion from her casing she pointed the angelic sword to the sky and sent out an electric blue current that not only lit up the midnight sky with a silvery blue but sent a sonic blast that for a split second caused all of the fighting to cease. Sage gazed into the distance where Kitara  hovered over the ocean  , her thick locks sizzling and crackling with electric blue white light and her sword pointed straight into the sky, appearing to be temporarily frozen in time. And then it happened: Millions of glowing white orbs poured out from the heavens and  instantly began to take form as robed men with swords and gigantic wing spans . Angels of the warrior class had come to join them  in their fight. They scattered across the sky and spread out beyond the far reaches of the horizon. Isis had opened up hell portals with her spell all across the globe, and now evil entities and spirits of the damned are creeping through and wreaking havoc on innocent people. Dark forces are now converging, and as Sage continued to look on in amazement, she could feel the dark, shadowy presence of not one but several ancient entities rising. Isis may have thought that she was resurrecting her husband, but Sage was willing to bet that whatever else was coming, Isis surely did not bank on that being a part of the package deal.  Sage could only hope that was what the warrior angels were after; well that and everything that was coming out of the lower gates of hell.

With the power of Atlantis now fully activated inside of her archenemy there was nothing for Isis to do but flee, as she had always done. She needed just a little more time before she and her true love could be reunited, but something was off. His dimensions had opened up but he still had not manifested yet…and then it hit her: The body!  How the hell could she have missed the most important part of the ceremony? Time, she needed more time.  But it was too late to focus too much more on that because Kitara now charged at her like a missile and plunged into her, sending both of them into a free fall into the depths of the Pacific. Their collision created a tidal wave of monolithic proportions, and  just as Sage thought she was going to be swept away she was pulled through the spiritual veil by Celeste and then pushed out a second  later just as the gigantic wave crashed down and swept away several islands of the Bahamas.

Kitara could hear the cries of drowning innocents even as she and Isis were submerged hundreds of feet beneath the earth surface. She remembered being told by Zedkiel that the animals would respond to her command so she sent out a mental telegraph to every single pod of dolphin and orca and other forms of marine life in the neighboring areas to come and help. Isis began swimming as fast she could towards the surface, while at the same time summoning up her powers and cursed the ocean, causing the water to turn to blood. “NOOOOOO!” Kitara screamed as she could feel the sea life begin to choke and suffocate and struggle to breathe that now toxic waters. Disgusted and infuriated, Kitara spread out her hands and sent a wave of pure white light into the waters, returning it to its natural, watery blue , removing the curse, just before the sea life was permanently destroyed. She could hear the whimsical calls of dolphins and orcas closing in in response to her SOS. Go!! Help the humans, she told them as she jettisoned herself out of the water.

Isis had made it to the top steps of the pyramid. She knew there was a way inside, Osiris had told her. She still needed to retrieve his body, but she had at least four hours before daybreak. But, she needed to create a distraction  to keep Kitara busy while she went to recover her fallen husband’s body, and the best way to do that was to free whatever was inside the pyramid.  Moving quickly, she removed the amulet that she wore around her neck and placed it on top of one of the many Egyptian ankh symbols that decorated the surface of the door.  The amulet turned a bright violet color and she could hear the clicking sounds of the door unlocking itself.

Kitara, not wanting to be deterred knew that this was the last opportunity to stop Isis from accomplishing whatever it was she was now up to and  using her kinetic abilities sent a ball of white hot energy straight into Isis’ back knocking her off the steps. Isis tumbled, and  rolled, and thrashed and crashed until she bounced off the last step like a hard rock before landing again with a hard thud. Kitara took a flying leap onto the top step of the pyramid and unsheathed Oblivion once again. As Isis struggled to regain her bearings , she clumsily threw a dark energy blast that missed Kitara and chipped off some of the building structure of the pyramid.  Disoriented but nonetheless enraged the goddess summoned all of her strength and energy and out of the nothingness she constructed her own sword that closely resembled Oblivion, from the black charged energy and went racing up the steps to fully engage the waiting Kitara. Blade met blade, causing thunderous sounds of metal meeting metal. Kitara swung Oblivion hard while at the same time landing a round house kick to Isis’ abdomen. Isis’ doubled back and swung her blade, barely missing Kitara’s chest. “I will end you Destroyer!!”Isis seethed between clenched teeth. “I have been around longer than your pathetic lineage. I have witnessed the creations of kingdoms as well as built my own. I have control over the elements and I am the queen of magic and you think that you and your little sword is enough to defeat me?!!” Back flipping into a warriors’ stance, Kitara ignored the angry threat. All she needed was a split second opening…just one little flaw or distraction and this would be over. After a series of kicks, punches, and near misses Kitara finally got her chance when she kicked Isis’ blade clean out of her hands. Isis’ sensing that it was over for her proceeded to do what she did best: bargain. “I can give you your life back,” she began.  Kitara strengthened her grip on Oblivion’s handle and cautiously continued to advance towards her opponent. Beads of sweat dripped down her midnight skin, her eyes still glowing silver and narrowed in a tense gaze as the memories of her very beginnings with this she demon flooded her vision. “I can give you your life back,” she said. “Your mother Aisha and your brother Nayeem I kept safe…” “You may have built kingdoms,” Kitara began, her tone hard but barely audible. “But you were the cause of the fall of many. You may have ruled over an empire that was once noted as the greatest in human history, but you have damned countless souls…souls like my mother and brother…and you still challenge the one who sits on high by even attempting to claim something that is not rightfully yours…you hope to make a perversion of humanity just so that you and  that incestuous husband of yours can be eternally worshipped! No, you cannot give me back what you  have taken from  me you miserable, worthless bitch!!!!!” “NOOO! Please Kitar-“ Kitara plunged Oblivion deep into Isis’s chest cavity. Blue blood began to spew forth as Isis dropped to her knees. With her mouth agape in shock and disbelief, a single tear trickled down her left cheek. Kitara held Oblivion steady, not fully ready to release her, stared down at the entity whose shadow seemed to have loomed over her like a dark cloud for hundreds of years. It was finally over. The amulet that she wore, the same amulet that she used to trap her mother and brother’s spirits shattered, and Kitara could see not just her own family but hundreds of others ascending into the heavens where they belonged. Kitara’s mother, Aisha, drifted toward her as a spirit now. She radiated golden light like Zedkiel and gently touched her daughter’s face and gave a sad smile. “I am so proud of you my daughter,” she said softly. Kitara unsure of what to do, struggled to fight back tears as her mother glanced in Isis’ direction, frowned and then returned her loving gaze back to Kitara. “I love you mother,” Kitara whispered. “I love you too. I will see you on the other side of the light,” Aisha said as she gently kissed Kitara’s cheek and  continued with her ascent. Angels without wings had appeared and were guiding these spirits home with welcoming arms and loving smiles and one of them  turned and  gave Kitara a knowing smile. And in a flash, they were gone. Kitara pulled Oblivion out of Isis’ chest and watched  as the deity collapsed onto the floor in a heap. The remaining life in her still flickered in her eyes as she struggled to speak. “You and I have the same father,” she wheezed.  “He is through that door,” Isis continued  and  raised a trembling hand and pointed in the direction of the entrance to the pyramid. “Well, there won’t be any family reunions today,” Kitara added as she raised Oblivion high into the air before sending her crashing down on Isis’ neck beheading the goddess. As soon as the deity’s head was separated from her frame, her body lit up in blue white fire. The goddess’ spirit cried out as the flames consumed every inch of her until there was nothing left but her ring with her insignia on it. Kitara stared down at  what was left of Isis, not sure how to feel or what to do next. “You did it!” Oblivion shouted with joy. Kitara looked  at the angelic blade and shook her head. “No, WE did it.” Kitara  looked down at the ring and gently picked it up. “I think I will hold onto this for safe keeping. If this finds its way into the wrong hands, the world will most definitely have something to fear.” “Wise choice Kitara,” Oblivion beamed. “But there is still much to do. Osiris is waiting to be released. Naomi is on her way to his body, but she is not alone. And I have received word that Jose is alive and my brother, Raphael is guarding him in the spirit world. Reconvene with your sisters while I shall take refuge in my thoughts. There is a lot to discuss.” Kitara nodded and returned Oblivion to her casing. She sent out a mental telegraph and received an immediate response from Celeste and Sage, whom were located on the other side of the pyramid. Isis was gone and there was still much to do. This was only the beginning.

Lilith cackled with delight as she watched her arch nemesis completely obliterated by Kitara. So her sword was an angel, huh? Daddy-O would be very pleased to know that little tid bit of Intel. Lilith and her protégé had decided that it would have been conducive to their survival that they remain hidden, especially having witnessed  the warrior breeds come out. Fortunately, they were busy fighting demon emissaries and low level entities that simply had wanted to come out and play.  With Isis out of the way she can continue on with her steps in preparing the way for the Anti-Christ. Now she can find another suitor, and by the looks of it Osiris was now a widower…an available bachelor. If Durga could get to his body in time, Lilith had a few ticks in store for him. But if not, men came a dime a dozen and she still had enough time to prepare. She could now unleash her vampires, establish the NOW, the world was literally hers for the taking. And now that humanity was in a state of panick, it was time to implement plan B into action. She and Kitara would meet soon enough…and as for that Sage, what Anastasia had concocted was brilliant. Simply brilliant. Lilith really, really loved Puerto, Rico.

Naomi hated the desert. It reminded her of her mother’s side of the family and their way of life. Even though she was of royal blood, still the desert did not bring back good memories for her. As she bypassed the city areas of modern day Lebanon and into the deserted areas of scattered trees, rocks and sparse amounts of foliage, in this midday sun, this was no walk in the park. She knew exactly where the body had  been hidden, and even after a millennia, due to his godhood and  having not met Oblivion, his body was going to be in a well preserved state.  The only thing that she had to do was retrieve it, take it back to Kitara so she could finish him off and  then they could go on with their lives.

As she approached the encampment of what is believed to be a group of the world’s oldest living trees-having survived the flood-she could sense that something was off. Just beneath the roots of one of the 16 Sisters, Naomi picked up a vaguely familiar and quickly fading trail. It had the signature of someone very old. “Oh God no!” she muttered to herself. Underneath  the root of that tree is where both she and Kitara buried Osiris’ head and it was missing! She ran another twenty five feet away to another one of the 16 Sisters and the trunk of the tree that was supposed to have been sealed was completely torn open, and his body was missing too. “Shit!” she exclaimed. “Who the fuck else would have known about-“ Naomi stopped short instantly remembering who the culprit was…Kalima, The Dark Destroyer.  But how did she get free? Naomi thought to herself.  But, why now? There was no way to answer that question right at this moment. She needed to get back to the others. It was quite clear that Osiris’ body was gone which meant that he was sure as shit about to be resurrected.  She closed her eyes and hoped  like hell that Kitara was not in the middle of fighting Isis but she needed to know immediately. Kitara, this is urgent. Osiris’ body is gone…and I picked up a very familiar energy trail, one that you wouldn’t believe. It’s Kalima, she is free and its bad Kitara…really, really bad.  Naomi didn’t bother waiting for a reply. She simply casted open a shadow and proceeded to shadow walk back to the Bahamas. It was quick and easy and Kalima, wherever she was, was not about to follow behind her.

****Nubia Rising: The Awakening is now available for download for just .99.***

http://www.amazon.com/Nubia-Rising-Awakening-Delizhia-Jenkins-ebook/dp/B00OY64L38/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1420513850&sr=8-1&keywords=Nubia+Rising%3A+The+Awakening

Blind Salvation: Final Damien Excerpt

Damien

She saw him– that was all he could think about as he carried his woman into the closest room with a bed. His parents were right behind him and when Lucinda had emerged from wherever it was she had been taking refuge and joined them. He kicked down the door and forced himself into one of the servant quarters, which was no bigger than a walk in closet with a single bed, and a sink. The room looked a lot like the prison cells seen on the show Locked Up but he didn’t care. He needed to get her on a hard and flat surface; at least he thought that was what he needed to do. Her scent, that citrusy fragrance of hers had thickened; not the same scent that indicated her arousal but that single identifying smell that separated her from the rest…the Fae. “What happened?” He asked his father, his mind racing with worry. “I don’t know. I have never seen a Fae/Seer mixture before…never seen a Fae mixed with anything combo. I wish I knew son.” “She saw me…” Damien whispered awestruck. “She did. She saw all of us.” Hadrian replied as he leaned his muscled frame against the doorway. “What triggered it?” Damien asked as he gently brushed a stray hair away from her face. Phaedra frowned and glanced up at her husband who simply shrugged,” Fear.” Kennedy moaned and before groggily sitting up. Damien glared at his father who again simply shrugged before turning around and walking away dismissing everyone as if that were in fact a kingly thing to do.

He helped her rise, and she rubbed her eyes and he could tell she was trying to force whatever it was that happened to happen again and when it did not, she hung her head in disappointment.  “Are you alright?” Phaedra said softly, her voice filled with concern. “Yes, I am. Thank you,” Kennedy nodded. “I will have the staff prepare you a meal,” Phaedra continued. “What will you like?” “Uh…” “She doesn’t like fish or anything sea food.” Damien answered. “Ok, well how about a turkey sub on wheat? Rodger makes a sandwich so divine that if I were to allow him he could put Subway out of business.” Phaedra bragged. Lucinda, who had been peaking from the other side of the door way the entire time, chuckled. “What do you know about places like Subway mother? You hardly leave the house.” “Who needs to leave the house when you have cable and a culinary genius at your beck and call?” Phaedra said playfully. “Bring her to the kitchen so that she may eat. Hunger may be the cause for some of the fluctuations that she is experiencing,” Phaedra ordered right before she poofed herself out of the doorway.  “I don’t know what happened Damien,” Kennedy said sadly. “I saw you-“”-I know.”  “What’s wrong with me?” Damien glanced over to where his sister was standing and clearly taking in the moment. Her grey eyes were filled with unshed tears that she quickly wiped her way, her pale cheeks red and her expression sullen. He mouthed, “What’s wrong?” And Lucinda’s response was her disappearing into the nothingness. Damien sighed. “We are trying to figure that out love,” he said cupping Kennedy’s face. “You know what I wish I could see once more?” Kennedy said, her mouth brushing the tips of his fingers, sending an erotic chill throughout his body. “What’s that?” She raised her eyes to meet his. “Your eyes. I love your eyes. The blue is deep and unfathomable, like you.” Well what could he say to that? Nothing. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips before helping her to her feet.

And so the light fell in love with the dark, even though it was the light that could not see and it was the dark that bathed in the sun.

He held her hand in his and once their fingers were intertwined, a sense of peace flooded his senses. And somehow, he knew that this was meant to be.

Blind Salvation: New Character Alert

Rothbart

Using his sword, he sliced the head clean off of the Night Stalker and stepped back to watch it disintegrate onto the floor. The fifteen or saw Night Stalkers that were in his presence looked at each other with unease. “I had her!” He bellowed as he scanned the creatures that stood before him seeking another victim. Instead, he kicked an old woodened table and sent it crashing into a wall. He was back at the abandoned cellar of an old Victorian styled house that had become his home. Stupid Night Stalkers and their aversion for sunlight; sometimes they proved themselves to be nothing more than useless and this moment was one of those times. He should have just broke into the house and grabbed her himself but then he knew he would have had to come face to face with Lucinda and he was not sure if he could steady himself in her presence.  He punched a hole in the wall, the plaster exploded from the impact. That blind woman-no that Seer would have been an excellent bargaining chip to lure that arrogant prince and then his father to their doom.

“We can attack the mansion as soon as the sun sets,” one of the Night Stalkers, the oldest of the bunch who was once a lively man in his late thirties and a promising career in politics from the 18th century suggested.  Rothbart eyed him hatefully but did not say anything. He could attack the mansion tonight and while the Night Stalkers offered a useful distraction he could go inside and retrieve the Seer and ultimately lure the prince to his death. And after the prince, the King…followed by the queen and then… he shook his head. As much as he hated Lucinda for leaving him with a bitter heart he was not sure if he could bring himself to kill her. But, he could make her suffer.  “Leave,” he commanded the Night Stalkers who did not hesitate to relieve themselves of his presence. “Return as soon as the sun sets,” was all that he said as he watched them head into various parts of the house to hide from the last few remaining rays of the sun.

He dropped his sword, a hand- made blade constructed from the fiery embers of the Vatican made from the finest of alloys and then blessed by the Pope himself, and slumped on the ratty green sofa he had purchased over 40 years ago. The thought of Lucinda always sent him down a road of memories he unsuccessfully tried to bury deep into the black box he held under lock and key. But it was too late. He closed his eyes, and trued to distract his thoughts with remembering when the last time was he had taken the time to shower. It had been days-no, weeks maybe? He ran his fingers through his thinning blonde hair and remembered how Lucinda used to do the same. On nights when he could steal her away from the responsibilities of a future queen, they would secret themselves away to foggy streets of London, laughing and joking and headed wherever they pleased, and she would find that moment when he would lose himself in her grey eyes and run her fingers lovingly though his hair to the very tips.

How he missed those beautiful eyes of hers…and that thick mane of red hair. He used to lay it across his chest after several rounds of love making, while she cuddled next to him talking about the burdens of the throne and how demanding her father had been. Damien had been a fledgling then-the equivalent of a teenager, and Rothbart looked forward to those stolen moments with the vampire who had not only stolen his heart but his soul. Making love to her had been an experience that was irreplaceable and since their split he had not lain with another woman since then. She was insatiable and sensual-the perfect mix and it had been he that had taught her what she probably now used to entice her male suitors. It was he, Rothbart, who had been her first.

He grimaced at the memory. How could a love so perfect end so tragically? He was more than willing to leave the Order just so that he could spend his days and nights with her. He would have gladly turned a blind eye to the mess of Night Stalkers that her people carelessly created just so that he could build a relationship with her father, the King. And, then when he died and was reborn a few hundred years or so later, he would have come back to her…their love would have never had to end. But no, she would always be “Daddy’s Perfect Princess”. His blood would never be good enough for her and who he was would never be accepted, even if he did put down his sword. She had to marry a vampire. He wondered if she was married even though she was pretty much dethroned and replaced by her brother. He wondered if she truly loved her mate and if she ever truly loved him. He seriously needed to get it together. He needed more time. He would not attack the mansion tonight. Lucinda was what the Seer was to the prince: his life and his death. He still had plenty of time left to exact his vengeance.

Blind Salvation: Kennedy

Kennedy

Kennedy was not sure what to think. It was common for Marisol to do a drop in but this was a really inconvenient time. She had two vampires in the house and she definitely did not need any more complications. But then, she could not hide the excitement of her best friend being able to meet the man-well vampire- that had pretty much stolen her heart and saved her life in less than a week. Hubert barked in excitement as she opened the door and she could see the shadowy outline of her curvy friend. Marisol wore her hair “big” today: it was a wild, giant mass of dark tightly coiled curls that sat proudly on top of her head and surrounded an oval face, tanned skin, thin lips and a single dimple. Marisol leaned in for a hug and then stooped down to pet and rub the all too eager Hubert who panted and wagged his tail so hard that Kennedy was scarred he was going to tilt over.

“I tried to call you girlie,” Marisol chirped. “But you-who the hell is that you have hiding in your house?” Marisol all but swooned as she took in the full visual magnificence that made Damien, Damien. Kennedy turned to see him standing a few feet behind her, right at the entry of what was the living room. Of course what she saw was a shadowy outline but then, for just a second, she could see in color the most handsomely chiseled face grinning at her. And then there was those midnight blue eyes that stared straight into her, piercing more than just her heart, but the very fabric of her soul. And then it was back to shadows and outlines. She blinked twice.  “Well aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend Kennedy,” came that smooth velvety voice of his interrupting her thoughts. “Oh yes! I’m sorry,” Kennedy chuckled awkwardly. For a second, she could see clearly. She saw his face and lord he was beautiful and he wanted…her. She beckoned for him to come closer and he took her into a full embrace. “Marisol, this is-“ “Her mate” Damien replied before realizing that he used the wrong terminology. What did humans call each other? Marisol chuckled. ”Mate?” “He means uh, boyfriend,” Kennedy said trying to laugh it off. She would definitely have to school him on some common human vernacular and terms.

Marisol offered her hand for a shake, one in which Kennedy could tell Damien was reluctant to accept. “I was just stopping by to invite Kennedy over to my family’s place for dinner. Alejandro-“ Damien frowned and held Kennedy possessively at the mention of another man’s name. “Who is this Alejandro?” He heard himself say. Kennedy laughed. Marisol glanced at Kennedy awkwardly, giving her a puzzled expression. Kennedy simply shrugged. She had no idea why Marisol would bother to mention Alejandro’s name. She had no interest and never had any interest in dating her brother. He was a nice guy but… there was no chemistry there, well at least on her part. “Alejandro is my brother and he had asked me to stop by and see if Kennedy would come by,” Marisol said carefully. “My dad is cooking this time and he said he needs an unbiased connoisseur of his cooking to judge his ‘culinary mastery’-his words. Alejandro thought-“ “Well, she isn’t coming,” Damien said firmly. Kennedy gently released herself from Damien and softly placed her hand on his cheek, a gesture he welcomed wholeheartedly. “It’s ok Damien. I got this.” She turned to her friend who was glaring at Damien as if she wanted to give him a piece of her mind. “You know what Marisol? I can’t tonight. Damien and I were about to take off for the night-“ “Are you ok?” Marisol said, returning her heat seeking glare to Damien who offered her one back and she backed away to the door. “You know what mija? Just call me. I will tell my dad and Alejandro,” she said with more emphasis on the ‘dro,”that you had to do a rain check. I will save you a plate.” Marisol was out of the door before either Damien or Kennedy could reply. “That’s your best friend?” He said skeptically. “Hey, you did come off a little strong…” Kennedy said calmly. “And why would Alejandro-“ “Look, there is and will never be anything between me and Marisol’s brother. The man has always had a soft spot for me but I see him as nothing more than family.” Shaking her head and feeling a mixture of emotions that she was ill prepared to deal with. She needed to go back to why Damien had been in her room packing her things.

She inched her way past Damien and journeyed to her parent’s room to find the shadowy figure of Lucinda resting comfortably on her parent’s bed. “Has dinner left yet?” She said sarcastically. Kennedy just brushed her off. There was no way she was going to deal with that right now. Suddenly she felt overwhelmed and trapped. She could feel Damien’s presence behind her and even though she was annoyed with him, she could not stay upset with him. Spoiled prince. “Please don’t be angry with me,” he said apologetically. “I just don’t like the idea of another man being with you and enjoying your company.” She smiled. ‘It’s ok Damien. But try to chill. I don’t want her thinking that I am in a controlling relationship where I am being abused.” “I would never hurt you!” Damien exclaimed, outraged. “Well in a lot of human relationships, women sometimes find themselves in the presence of men who beat them, control them and just do horrific things to them.” “Damien would hurt himself before he hurts you,” Lucinda interjected. “And now that we have that established, Damien please take note that the sun will be setting soon and Rothbart has been parked outside of this house for God knows how long. We have to go.” “Who is Rothbart?” Kennedy asked. “Kennedy, before your friend rudely interrupted us I was about to inform you that a man, a threat to my kind has been spying on us.” Damien tried to explain. “Why?” “Because he is a Slayer and that is what he does,” Lucinda added, sounding as bored as ever. “I will take care of you. I promise.” Damien swore as he closed her suitcase. “So how do you plan on transporting her out of here?” Lucinda asked getting out of the bed. Damien frowned at Lucinda whom like always, smiled at him pleased with his response. “Damn it Lucinda! Can’t you at least be of some assistance?” Damien spat. “Call father. Have him send an escort. You can’t dematerialize you, her, the dog, or her things… and neither can I .”  Kennedy could feel Damien’s gaze and the subtle realization flooded her senses: Once she left this house, her life would never be the same. “Hubert! Leash!” she called to the retriever. She slipped on a pair of flip flops and Hubert hurried over to her with his leash. “Call whomever you have to call. We are ready to go.”

Blind Salvation: Damien…

Damien

Phaedra had spent the last thirty minutes digging into the family archives. The large room was a spacious as a mid-sized class room and filled with wall to wall volumes of books documenting the family’s history. The Draco Line, the name of his bloodline had been in existences for hundreds of thousands of years, extending well beyond the beginnings of humanity. The 17th century chandelier that hung 20 feet above their heads was the only supplier of light in the room. When she finally found what she was looking for, she glanced at Damien with a smile of victory and motioned for him to join her at the small woodened table that was the focal point of the room. The large, heavy book was thick with pages made from Egyptian papyrus leaves; an indicator of its antiquity and his mother carefully opened the book and gently flipped a few dozen pages before landing on the right page to begin her lesson. “Aha,” she said using her index finger to scan through the wording that was written in the Old Language. “Here we go,” she said. “Seers, the mystical peoples whose origins that tie them to the Neters of Kemet and the lands of Mesopotamia,” She read. “You see, your mate is of African ancestry,” She continued reading. Damien nodded, totally aware that his “mate” was black and had long dismissed what should never be considered an issue. Phaedra continued on: “They are to be approached with caution for their powers are many and great. They can see into the future, into the past and into the mysterious realms that we vampyr have yet to aspire to. Seers are mostly birthed as female, although there have been reports of males. They appear as blind or severely lacking in sight due to their strange colorless eyes, and some may be rendered unable to see into the physical realm with great clarity, which gives them greater power in the mystical and the spiritual. Their abilities rest primarily within the elements, some even able to call forth the weather to do as they please, but the most common element is fire. Seers are notoriously hunted by Slayers and Lycans alike for their gifts and are often deemed as a threat by Faeries whom are also gifted with the elements. Seers are not immortal but are close to it with life spans exceeding that of 1000 years. Seers make formidable opponents in battle when properly trained which is why it is of great importance that vampyr revere instead of fear them. The strongest gift possessed by a Seer is hiding in plain sight.” She closed the book. “So, that is it?” Damien inquired. “That is all the knowledge that we possess. The rest of the documentation focuses on the genealogy of the various Seers that have aided our family since the 2nd century A.D.. I had a Seer once when I was young, and your father’s closest confidante was a Seer. I did not like his confidante at first because I thought she was vying for my husband’s attentions,” Phaedra chuckled. “But, in the end she proved herself loyal until the day that she died.” “How did she die?” “Rothbart.”  Damien froze. “Father said that the Slayer was spotted in the area. Have you any word on that?”  “No, your father has not said anything more.” “Aren’t Slayers only destined to kill Night Stalkers?” “They are destined to destroy what their beliefs tell them to and Rothbart is hell bent on destroying anything that is not human. But enough about that,” Phaedra said quickly. “When do I get to meet your mate?” Damien smiled and rubbed his fingers through his raven colored hair;. “Soon. I have to be sure that father will not make an attempt on her life because of my refusal to marry Guinevere.” Phaedra sighed. “Your father will not kill her but he surely will not make her feel welcomed. Before you came he was working out an agreement with Stefan regarding the arrangements of your marriage to Guinevere.” Damien rolled his eyes at the mention of Stefan and Guinevere’s names. “Guinevere has been sick with grief and worry that you will not wed her because of your love for what she perceived to be human. The entire aristocracy is talking about it.” “I don’t give a rat’s ass about what a bunch of superficial pricks think.” Damien retorted. “I don’t either and neither does your father but he has to do something. But, you were wise in informing us about this particular Seer because now it changes things.” “How so?” “Your father’s law states that no vampire can wed a human; but your Seer is not fully human, which is a slight technicality that happens to work in your favor. You are free to be with this Seer.” Phaedra smiled triumphantly. “The only thing is unless your father replaces you with Lucinda to the throne, your mate will not be accepted as your mate and she will definitely not be accepted as Queen which means that you may still have to marry a vampire at least in writing to maintain your position.” “Fuck!” Damien slammed his fist on the table. “Do not fret my son you  still have time. I will work with your father to absolve the betrothal to Guinevere. Unfortunately this may come off as a snub to Stefan and his family and I am sure we will be met with some retaliation, but then again I do not think Guinevere wants to come face to face with Lucinda again.” For the first time, Damien could smile with relief as he felt the burdens that came with the throne were lifted from his shoulders. Thank the good lord above for his sister, his mother, the technicality in his favor, and the fact that Kennedy’s father was a Fae. He reached across the table and pulled his mother into a heartfelt embrace. She laughed in delight. “I have never seen you this happy,” she said displaying a toothy grin. “Oh you have no idea what this means mother,” he said. He kissed his mother on the cheek before releasing her. “Go to your mate son but the next time you return bring her with you!” Damien had dematerialized into the nothingness before Phaedra could finish her sentence.

It was well into the afternoon when Damien appeared at Kennedy’s door. He was enthusiastically greeted by Hubert when caught the same vague presence of evil close by. He locked the door behind and peered out of the window and noticed the same red Honda that had been parked off and on outside of her house for the last few days. He focused his sight on the driver and recognized him instantly. Rothbart! Using his vampire abilities he extended his senses beyond the interior of the house. Kennedy was upstairs talking to Lucinda. Good. Rothbart was up to something and whatever it was, he was going to have until nightfall to act. He needed to take Kennedy somewhere safe and get his sister back into the safety of the mansion. He could take Kennedy to the mansion too but then again, he would be putting her in possibly more danger-safe house. There was a safe house a few miles east that he could take her for a few days.

He dematerialized into the first level bedroom where Kennedy slept and where they had shared some of their fondest memories and searched her closet for a duffel bag. When he found none, he stumbled upon an old suitcase and made a mental note of how much he hated the color forest green. He popped open the suitcase and left it in the center of the room and went into various drawers of hers grabbing whatever he thought she would need for more than just a few days. Hell, after today she would never live in this house again. He must have been making so much noise that Lucinda called out to him from the doorway, looking completely puzzled. “What are you doing brother?” She asked, her arms folded tightly into her chest. “Look through the peephole of the front door. Rothbart.” He said not breaking his stride as he dumped more clothes into the suitcase. Lucinda’s eyes widened and in an instant she disappeared to the front door.

The suitcase was full.

Damien cursed. “I’ll just buy her whatever else she needs,” he mumbled to himself. Lucinda returned, her expression paled and those grey eyes of hers filled with disbelief and terror. “He is really here,” she whispered with emotion. “How long has been here?” “I have no idea,” Damien sighed. “Probably as long as I have been here…what is Kennedy doing?” “I’m right here Damien,” Kennedy said from behind Lucinda, still dressed in a pair of grey sweats, a white tank and her braids pulled back into a single braid, like his. He smiled at the sight. “Kennedy,” he said carefully. “You have to come with me for a few days…” “Uh, ok but may I ask why?” Kennedy said as she gently eased passed Lucinda who remained where she stood, but this time her eyes were focused and her head tilted as if she was listening for something. Damien heard it too, someone was approaching the door. Lucinda’s hands became like talons: their form extended to long, pointy and sharp; her eyes narrowed and her fangs retracted giving her the appearance of a living nightmare. Damien’s eyes narrowed too, until Hubert barked and Kennedy’s smile lit up and then came the voice that proved itself to be more than just a simple inconvenience. “Kennedy open up! It’s me Marisol!” Lucinda growled, Hubert barked once more and the love of his life chirped with excitement. “Oh my God I finally get to introduce you to my bestie!” Kennedy squealed and hurriedly moved past Lucinda without noticing the violent rage that bubbled through Lucinda’s veins like poison in a hot cauldron. “We do not have time to deal with another human Damien,” Lucinda said between clenched teeth. Damien sighed and shook his head. “I know…but this human just might be useful,” he added rubbing his jawline. “Can I eat her?” Lucinda gave Damien a wicked grin. He frowned. “No.” “You are absolutely no fun.” “Just suck your teeth in and retract your claws. This human is not blind…”

Blind Salvation Excerpt: Damien

Damien

Damien glanced back at the portrait of Kennedy seated between her parents and saw something shocking. Her mother had the same colorless eyes that were a classic feature of a Seer. He looked at Kennedy once more who was headed back down the stairs with Hubert. Kennedy didn’t know her mother suffered the same plight as her. He took one last look at her father. He was much darker than both of them; but he strong features, a broad pointed nose, big muscled shoulders, hazel green eyes…even while sitting he could tell her father was over six feet like himself but there was something else off. He stepped closer to the picture for a closer inspection and realized something: Kennedy’s father was not human, at least not all of the way. Behind that smile of his and within the rows of perfect white teeth was a pair of retractable daggers. Not vampire like his…but Fae. And judging by the way that Kennedy was all too comfortable around him and his sister-not that either of them would hurt her-but her parents had raised her in the dark. Literally. She had no idea who she was.

He watched her cautiously and slowly walk down the steps back onto the first floor. His woman was a Fae? Or at least part Fae? He had thought the species to be long extinct after the wars and there had been one; a successful one at that had thrived in the human world of Bridgewood? How could his family not have known? The Fae and vampires were not enemies-not exactly friends but not enemies. They were a peaceful people who proved themselves formidable against vampires and had their own abilities and skills that put a lot of supernatural creatures to shame. And her parents left her alone after raising her as a human…without giving her the tools to properly defend herself…if Damien had never showed up in her life…He shook his head at the thought. But, then he remembered from his early teachings that the Fae never left their young in the manner that her father left her…whether they were half breeds of Full Bloods the Fae were proud of their history which means that her father had to have been running from someone or something. And as for her mother, a Seer, he doubted she did not know what she was or what she could do. He scratched his head. He was going to do some digging around tonight.

“What is the matter dear brother,” Lucinda asked startling him out of his thoughts. She turned to face the portrait and jumped back in shock when she noticed Kennedy’s mother. “Her mother was a Seer too?” Damien shook his head. “How could she not know?” “I don’t know but I have an idea,” He said as he started for the stairs. “What? Do tell me dear brother.” Lucinda said excitedly as she followed behind him. “They were running from someone or something.” “From who?” “I don’t know but keep quiet. I think Kennedy is upset remembering her parents. The trip upstairs was hard on her.” Speaking in hushed tones, Damien convinced Lucinda to stay at the house with Kennedy. He instructed her to not mention anything about his discovery of Kennedy’s parentage, something Lucinda promised to not do.  He needed to go back to the mansion and confront his father.

He met Kennedy downstairs who was busying herself in the kitchen with making herself a sandwich. She had already gave Hubert some fresh food and by the slight grumbles from her stomach, he knew she was starving. “Does your sister like the rooms?” She asked as she slapped  some Miracle Whip on a slice of wheat bread. “Yes she does,” Damien said taking a seat on one of the bar stools. “How are you feeling?” She sighed, and then grabbed some sliced turkey from the container and folded it neatly onto the bread. “I guess I am alright. It’s just that…I don’t go upstairs much. It is has been five years since…” She grabbed a thin cutting knife from the drawer and then a tomato that she had lying on the counter to slice it. But instead of slicing her tomato, she sliced her finger. “Ouch! Damn it!” She cried out dropping the knife and rushing to the sink to clean the wound. Damien was on her in an instant and took her hand and without thinking, took her bleeding finger into his mouth. She gasped in shock and he trembled from the taste. Her blood was like a dark, rich wine of the finest age. She definitely was not 100% human. He moaned but then quickly caught himself and removed her finger out of his mouth and replaced it underneath the cool water from the sink. The wound was not deep but she definitely needed a band aid. “Stay right there,” he commanded as he darted off to the downstairs bathroom and searched the medicine cabinet for a box of band aids. He found them. In seconds he was back in the kitchen wrapping her finger and trying to figure out how he was going to explain himself.

“When was the last time you fed?” She asked interrupting his thoughts. “Uh….” The last thing he wanted to discuss with her was his eating habits. “When was the last time that you have fed? You do drink blood don’t you or is there something you are not telling me?” “I fed the night before…” he said not wanting to look at her. It was funny, here he was a Prince and an heir to the greatest throne in vampire bloodlines and never once in his 300 years of existence ever felt ashamed of his thirst. But, now as he stood facing the only woman he would ever love and the means to his existence and he could bear the thought of her knowing what he did. “Do you kill them?” She asked quietly. “Who?” “The victims…do you always kill them?” He cupped her face as she stared back at him, her eyes wide and searching…and again, straining. “Would you reject me if I told you yes?” He asked, finding himself fearing her response. “No. I would not…” She said. “Then yes, not because I do not value life but because I have to. If I don’t, they will come back as-“ “Night Stalkers.” She had become an expert at finishing his sentences. He smiled and placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of her nose.

With her finger on the mend, and her neck still packed down with healing herbs and her head still bandaged, he knew that there was so much more to Kennedy that needed to be explored. She was resilient and had she been vampire, his father would have without a doubt approved of her. He gathered her in close just for that familiar and his favorite scent of hers entered his nasal cavity and ignited his sense. Her valley was blossoming and readying itself for him. He growled. “Kennedy, you are determined to make me deflower you sooner than I intended…” He murmured into her ear. “No fair!” She said playfully pushing him away. “You and your extrasensory capabilities! How did you know I was…” “Horny?” His voice deepened into a low rumble. “I can smell it.” He stalked her into the corner by the door; she backed away, nervously anticipating what he was going to do to her, and loved every moment of it. He pinned her wrists to the wall and hoisted her up , wrapping her legs around his waist so that he could push himself into her, allowing her to feel what would always be ready and waiting for her. He hungrily took her mouth and with one hand gripping her firm yet juicy behind, and the other caressing her soft and supple skin underneath her tank top and…”Ahem!” He was not sure how long his sister had been standing there but he knew one thing was certain: he wanted Kennedy with a longing that surpassed all reason. Just like that smooth mocha brown skin of hers, her core was hot and judging by the ache in her voice she wanted him just as badly. He bared fangs at his sister for the interruption and carefully let Kennedy down. He kissed her neck-the other side of it of course and she flushed with slight embarrassment. Lucinda grinned from cheek to cheek and chuckled as Kennedy slipped passed her and into the bedroom.

“You ache for her badly brother,” She cooed. “Why the wait?” “I have only known her for three days and she is a virgin. I don’t want to pressure her into anything.” He grumbled as he leaned against the wall. “ At her age?” Lucinda said in disbelief. When Damien didn’t say anything she looked around to where Kennedy had been and said carefully, ”But the way that you keep invading her space like that she does not have a choice. She cannot resist you and your charms. No female can.” Damien sighed. “I don’t want her to see me as a monster…” Lucinda calmly approached her brother and gently laid a palm on his shoulder. “I do not believe that she does brother.”

Blind Salvation: Damien

Damien

He made it to the mansion with just a few minutes to spare. He had just enough time to shower and dress and as he entered his version of King Louis XIV luxury suite of indulgence, he found his sister, the ever beautiful red haired beauty and royal princess Lucinda casually sitting on the edge of his 16th century styled poster bed. She glanced at him with a slight smirk on her face, looking as devious as ever. Dressed in a midnight blue strapless Christian Dior gown, she crossed her legs and eyed Damien with a look of suspicion. “You have been with a human,” she said still smiling. “I can smell her all over you. The night of the presentation and you fulfill your carnal desires with a human…” “Get out of my room Lucinda,” Damien seethed as he walked right past her and into his walk in closet that was the size of a one bedroom apartment. “Why are you acting so testy?” She teased as she slithered behind him to antagonize him some more. “I am sure father would be quite proud to know…” “As the future King of this bloodline I can do whatever the hell I want. The only thing I am obligated to do is marry the shrew and eventually give us an heir. Now get out of my room Lucinda!” Baring his fangs at his spitefully wicked sister, he turned his back to her in his continued search for something to wear. Unmoved by his anger Lucinda took a seat on a crimson red ottoman that was situated nearby and regained her composure. She fiddled with her hair which hung down loosely in a side ponytail that was curled at the ends. “My husband would have made a fine king had daddy changed the laws of the monarchy,” she said finally. “Alexander is a fine vampire who values civility and the rightful order of a society…” “Yes, well Alexander should watch himself,” Damien warned. “I have heard of his proclivities and you would have been better off marrying a Lycan than the likes of him. Hell, Rothbart would have been a better choice for you…” Lucinda gasped at the name. “Don’t say that name again in my presence.” She demanded. “Why?” Damien turned to face her. Her demeanor had transitioned from pretentious and snobbish to ghastly pale and frightened at the mention of the Slayer’s name. “You are the reason why I am even in this position. Yes, dear sister did you think I had forgotten your silly little games you played on the Slayer? The same Slayer that hunted our bloodline to damn near extinction and who left his mark on Father? You are fortunate that father did not kill you for the deeds that you have done. So, for you to come in here and taunt me about my personal affairs you should be residing in eternal hope that I do not exile you to destitution and have your precious husband executed on the spot!” Lucinda’s perfectly symmetrical face had turned beet red at the memory. Her wolf grey eyes had glittered with unfallen tears and she placed her face in her hands. “I really did love him Damien. It wasn’t a game.” Damien took a moment to study his sister and based off of her scent he could detect no lie. “Yeah? Well, tell that to Father because Rothbart has returned.” Lucinda wiped her face and stared into Damien’s midnight blue eyes. “I hope you killed whatever human you were with tonight,” she said. “I can tell by your scent that she is more to you than what you are willing to admit.” Lucinda stood up and strengthened her resolve. “If you care about her you would have killed her because now that you are about to meet your future queen I will leave you with this warning. Please consider it a parting gift from me because after tonight Alexander and I are leaving Brigewood forever. Guinevere is not the feeble minded, socially inadequate shrew that most of the members of the aristocracy believe her to be. I met her a few times and she is sadistic and evil and power thirsty. You are a prize to her: a hard earned prize and she will not settle for being second place in your life. She intends to utilize her role as your wife to its fullest capacity. Do not underestimate her.” Lucinda turned then dematerialized to the Great Hall in the house leaving Damien alone with his thoughts. He found the old world suit and tie that he was looking for and made his way to shower off the remainder of Kennedy’s mouth -watering fragrance before heading down to meet his Fate.

As always Damien was dressed to impress with his black tux and Prada’s finest leather Oxfords. With one quick glance in the mirror, he could not help but admit to himself that he looked like a living god. His long raven hair was freshly pulled back in his signature braid, the tux fitted his muscled form to perfection. Yes, he was definitely eye candy and Guinevere should feel honored that he was forced to be in her presence. He dematerialized to the Great Hall where his father and everyone in his family’s bloodline were waiting. The Great Hall, the largest room in the house was where his parents hosted many a dinner. The seating amounted to 300 and tonight it was filled to maximum capacity. Decorated in Old World Medieval elegance themes with two banners representing both families (Damien’s being red and Guinevere’s being bright green) mounted on opposite walls facing one another, Damien sighed at the spectacle.  Seated at glass tables with expensive linen’s draped across the top, each of the 300 or so guests represented every well known fashion designer from Christian Louboutin, Christian Dior, Coco Chanel, Giorgio Armani, Versace, and Marc Jacobs just to name a few. The female’s kept their gowns simple, most of them strapless and of varying colors. Most of the males were dressed in a tux and carried themselves with an air of regality that one would have thought they were in the presence of kings-not one king. The servants had worked tirelessly at preparing a feast that was fit for an emperor: serving the finest of fish, chicken, wines and a variety of side dishes that would make the Food Network look like a dish served in the local school cafeteria. Then of course, on each of the dining tables that could seat a total of ten people were helpless and very terrified and nude humans tied down as offerings for the supposed to be special day.

Working his way through the crowd he said his hello’s and performed the appropriate greetings to everyone according to their station before he finally made his way over to where his father and mother sat. His mother, Phaedra looked as divine as ever, an exact replica of her daughter, the only difference was the black mole that sat proudly above the right side of her mouth. His mother was known for uniqueness among the vampire race: she was not bloodthirsty, she did not take pleasure in terrorizing humans and she even held a certain level of respect and sympathy for them…except for tonight. She could not afford to make her husband of 600 years appear weak in front of hundreds of vampires vying for and secretly plotting for his position. He kissed his mother lovingly on the cheek before bowing to his father who gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement. “You made it on time,” Hadrian said feeling pleased with his son’s obedience. “I had no choice,” Damien replied as he took a seat next to his mother who gently patted his hand. The human male that was tied to the table and gagged gave Damien a pleading look, which Damien ignored. After tonight he was definitely going to feed. “Where is the wench?” Damien asked suddenly feeling irritated. His father laughed heartily. “She should be coming down soon, son.” “And then can I go?” His mother gave him a surprised look. “Damien, Guinevere is a lovely female. Why would you be so anxious to leave?” “Because Damien’s loins are calling out to him,” his father chided.  Damien ignored his father’s reproach and focused his attention on the door fifty feet ahead of him. He hated his life at this moment. He honestly did. If his father- and just then the door opened and everyone in the room fell silent. A tall, slender built female with magnificently dark hair and emerald green eyes met his gaze. She wore a forest green gown with thin straps that barely supported the most exquisite set of breasts that Damien had ever laid his eyes on…next to Kennedy’s of course. Her neck was bare and from her ears hung a pair of diamond earrings that illuminated a blinding sparkle. A knowing smile greeted him, as if she knew everything there was to know about Damien’s past, present and future; and she took her time approaching his table. Her father, Stefan, walked proudly behind her, his long blonde hair sprawled out across his shoulders giving him the resemblance of a lion instead of a proud and respected vampire. Her mother was as tall as she with equally magnificent dark hair that kept wrapped in a bun and she wore a simple black gown that gently caressed her small ankles as she walked. Guinevere was definitely excellent eye candy and clearly she found herself a stylist to make her look presentable for this occasion. But, as Damien watched with dread as his future wife proudly approached his table, his chest ached for only one woman: Kennedy.

Once she had finally reached the table where Damien and his parents sat, she bowed respectfully to Hadrian, and then Phaedra and finally to Damien. When her eyes met his, her irises lit up with desire and Damien respectfully smiled at her. Realizing that his enthusiasm was not the same she averted her eyes to the floor and she straightened her stance with her father guiding her over to her seat next to Damien. Hadrian stood up and proudly bellowed to the crowd, “To the future King and Queen of our glorious bloodlines! May they have many heirs and a prosperous existence!” The crowd erupted with cheers as champagne glasses were passed around. Damien was not in the mood to drink anything. He could feel himself being watched and he turned his head to face Guinevere whom had been studying him as she took a sip of her champagne. “Am I not to your liking milord?” She asked plainly. Phaedra turned to look at Guinevere who gave an awkward smile and a raised glass. Phaedra glared at Damien who simply shrugged and returned his attentions to the crowd.

It was a good while before the cheering and clinking of glasses abated and then once Hadrian was finished giving his speech addressing the importance of bloodlines and unity, only to conclude on a high note of praises towards Stefan and his family could they eat. Becoming more frustrated and irritated by the minute, Damien eyed the human hungrily and before the first plate of food was served to his table he savagely bit the frightened human. He tore deeply into the man’s jugular and with vicious pulls he drank the life forced that helped him deal with his irritable mood. Once he was finished, Damien raised his head to notice everyone in the room staring at him, even his father and mother who gave him a look of surprise and horror. Guinevere smiled and followed suit, dropping her fangs, the strike was swift and hard into the man’s thigh. Soon, a feeding frenzy erupted and Damien took this an opportunity to leave.

He dematerialized to his room where he found his phone hidden behind a desk and hooked up to a charger. There were no missed calls and then just as he was about to search for the name of the only woman he could think about came a familiar scent. Guinevere had followed him. He bared his fangs in annoyance as she took form in front of him. “Who is she?” She demanded. “Why are you in here?” He snarled violently. “Who is she?” She demanded again. “I am to be your wife and you have done nothing more than look at me with unfortunate dismay as if I were some human!” She screeched. “I don’t even know you and you are acting as possessive as a fool in love you delusional twit,” he snapped. “I am required to marry you, and if you thought that by acting as an insecure teenaged girl in the throes of a tantrum was going to make me look at you with anything more than dismay you have another thing coming.” Well that got her attention. “I will have you know that this is as much as a sacrifice for me as it is for you.” She retorted. “No it isn’t,” Damien replied coolly. “You and your family are elevated from that lowly station that you were given-for goodness sake Guinevere you get to be a queen with every right and privilege afforded to that title. So what exactly are you sacrificing? And whoever this she is that you keep inquiring about, well there is none. So, with that being said, why don’t you remove yourself from my presence before you embarrass yourself and your family any further than you have already.” Tucking his phone in his pocket, he disappeared out of the room to another, more remote location in the house leaving a furious Guinevere trembling with rage and mumbling a vow of vengeance. “I will find out who this woman is Damien.” She inhaled deeply and smiled. Guinevere’s family was legendary for their ability to track the even faintest of scents, which was how her father had found favor with the king.  Guinevere stalked out of Damien’s room with a twisted smile. “Let the games begin,” she mumbled to herself.