Dark Fantasy #Sale on my books [Ebook sale announcement]

FLASH SALE @AmberQuillPress on all Amber Allure dark fantasy/#vampire stories. Including three of mine.

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Eternity

Blood…lust…revenge…

In 1570, Maximilian Wolffe was turned vampire, sired by a demonic master. Braggio Luca was an outcast rogue even among the undead, and his hunting ground, the streets of Venice. Max learned to appreciate pain from the most skilled. He did what he had to do to survive. And in the end, he begged. But a brutal master should always beware of what he creates.

He saw her…wanted her…claimed her…

In 1872, Max and his companion, Claudio, hunt the streets of Venice once more. What Max finds, however, is not what he expects—Lena, a woman to equal his passion. He takes her, tutors her in the darkest desires, makes her his servitess, and ultimately, his vampiress. Yet after turning her, he abandons her in order to save her. It is the memory of Lena that may keep Max from succumbing to the beast within.

More than a century passes when Lena is confronted once again with her sire, the dark lover she has never forgotten. Now it is Lena, weary of being alone, who is on the hunt for a servitor, a human male to submit to her every need. She finds him in Dr. Erik Rand. She claims him, but what she doesn’t expect is Max’s return, demanding what is rightfully his—both Lena and her human, Erik. Would their memories re-ignite the fire that had once seared the nights of Venice?

Max has changed. He’s no longer the vampire Lena once loved. This vampire is more predatory, more dangerous. Max means to claim his possessions in the most elemental way known to mortal man, or to the undead. Will his vampiress submit to the dangerous creature he has become?

Dark Fantasy / Vampire / BDSM / Ménage [M/M/F] / Group Sex / Bisexual [M/M]

Get Eternity TODAY ONLY for $3.50

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Blood Games: Talent Scout

Two vampires hunt for entertainment—and dinner—on a dark, seductive night. Yum-yum…

Vampire blood games require a unique sort of “talent scout.” Claud plays front man for the powerful Silas, ferreting out tasty treats to satisfy the ancient master he adores. And Silas likes to add a special twist to their blood hunts. But it’s not all games, since Claud knows his days as Silas’s lover could be numbered if he fails in his task, and he loves Silas too much to take a chance on failing him.

Now, Claud locates tonight’s main dish—a young, handsome hustler named Jimmie. Will Claud’s choice of human playmate “live up” to Silas’s expectations and provide an evening of adventurous, entertaining passion, the vampire way?

Gay / Dark Fantasy / Vampire / BDSM / Ménage (M/M/M)

Get Blood Games: Talent Scout TODAY ONLY for $2.00

med_von1bloodbountyVampires of Noctra: Blood Bounty

A vampire with a raging thirst for human blood and erotic pleasure; a man with a secret mission to find and destroy the undead. But lusty midnight passions defy logic, while boundaries and duty hold no sway on the decks of the Night Stalker.

Captain Dontè Lucienne is the vampire captain of the Night Stalker. His crew is human, men who serve the vampires of Noctra, providing sustenance, as well as loyalty. They are fighters as well as lovers, and devoted to their vampire masters. They would destroy any who tried to kill their captain.

Skye Templeton is a man on a dangerous mission. Plucked from the swelling seas by the crew of the Night Stalker, he’s exactly where he needs to be. Will he come out alive, or end up as fodder to the lust of the vampirate captain? His duty is clear, at least until he comes to know this licentious crew and their magnetic leader…until he comes under the supernatural, relentless spell of the Night Stalker

Gay / Dark Fantasy / Vampire / Historical / Pirate / BDSM

Get Vampires of Noctra: Blood Bounty TODAY ONLY for $2.50

Want even more? As I said all dark fantasy/vampire stories are on sale today at http://www.amberquill.com. Find out what’s available at: http://www.amberquill.com/store/c/159-Dark-Fantasy-/-Vampire.aspx

The Alley [Words Inside My Head]

A spectre or inhuman creature of some sort has appeared to a man dressed in conservative, contemporary clothing. A bright light from behind him indicates to me that the creature comes from another dimension, another time, another place.

The street is a back alley, maybe factory district, ground is cobbled stone. The back of the building, exposed pipe, wooden structure. There is a doorway, bordered in old wood. Steps – maybe three leading up to the door – looks to be solid wood, cloDSCN1638-wetstreet_smallersed and locked.

The looming spectre has mesmerizing red eyes, threatening to the man. Barring his way? Why is a businessman walking along this alley? Has he been summoned here? Victim or villain? Innocent or jaded?

Oh wait, the spectre holds something in his hand. As I thought – he is a messenger, he is a servant – minion to another. It’s a message for the man. Who is it from? Who does this creature serve?

Will the business man turn and run? Is he weak or strong. Brave or a coward. More or less than he appears? My sense is that he also in some way serves or will serve, the same master as this creature. Blackmailed or willing servant?

What is he offered in return? What enticement will take him from ordinary businessman to servant of some dark unknown master?

Is the businessman actually the one who summoned the creature because he wants something. Is he the reason the creature has been called to this world? What kind of business is he in? What does he need? What are his desires?

It’s nighttime. Perhaps midnight? There is no moon to light the passage. Is the creature here to serve? To see the deed is accomplished? To perform a dark and dirty task?

The man will soon no longer be simply ordinary – but will he become a monster like this creature in the hooded robe? He thinks he’s smarter, that he can control what is about to happen. He’s about to make his deal with the devil. The moment he accepts the message the businessman’s becoming will commence. Eagerly he accept the paper, opens it. It has begun.

Angel Wars 1 [Words Inside My Head]

The call to battle finally stole the last of his humanity. Her wings torn asunder around her bloody and lifeless body as he held her in his arms, unable to let her go. He stared at the sky as her body grew colder and colder, becoming stiff with the claim of the underlord. Her soul seemed to have already departed.

“You don’t need to lose her forever.”

He whipped around in the direction of the voice even as he cradled her body tighter to his chest.

“You can follow her and share eternity. If you agree to serve in my court and follow my will. Or let her go and live on as a shell, half a man, in a world that does not treasure your kind. As I would in my world.”

He was the Kind of NedDrinke. To agree to his terms could only lead to pain and fear. And yet still there was that flicker of hope.

“Traitor to my kind. There would be nothing left for either of us. No place safe.”

“Not if you follow my orders. Not if you give me your loyalty. We are not so terrible as your overlord tells you. Different perhaps, but not the vile people he wants you to believe. We care well for our own. How much is her life worth to you?”

The king held out a hand. “Come, give your soul into my keeping, and you will see.”

He stared down at her. She was his life. He would not live without her. He did not want to.

“Her soul is safe?”

“For as long as you remain loyal to me. She will be safe in my realm. As will you. You have but a short time to make your choice.”

“Terms?”

“On my terms. There is no negotiation. You will serve me and she will live. Would you really expect terms to be offered for a life so precious to you?”

He nodded. He could already feel his strength ebbing. No one knew of a pair – where one survived if the other died.He could already feel his life fading like a shriveled flower that has lost the sun.

The king reached down to cup his jaw, tilting his head back, to look into his startlingly obsidian eyes.

“Look at me,” the king said. “Focus only on me and you shall have your wish, for her to live once again.” And then he felt the roaring pain inside his chest as the king took possession of his soul.

He screamed in agony.Then felt himself being yanked from the life he’d always known. Spinning in darkness, reeling and reeling until he lost consciousness, falling into the darkness.

* * *

“Hey. Wake up.”

His eyes shot open and he started into her beloved gaze. She was alive and his joy couldn’t be contained. The king had kept his promise. The second thing he realized was that neither of them possessed wings and a moment of panic churned his stomach.

“I think you need a drink,” she said, then turned away. Tattooed into her bare back was a set of wings. And then he recalled the bargain he’d made. Now he knew exactly where he was and the price he had paid for her life.

But when she spun back to him, he realized exactly how high that price had been. The lack of recognition, a polite curiosity in her eyes. She had no idea who he was.

“You asked for her life, not her memory,” a voice from behind him said. “I’ve granted you exactly what you sought.”

He should have known.  His soul was gone, and the heart he had left was shattered. He looked at her again, but she was staring beyond him, a look of total adoration in her eyes. An adoration that had once belong to him. His bargain with darkness had cost him dearly.

Spawn [Words Inside My Head]

Money. Earthly. Young. Round. Disc. Stone. Carved. Display. Medieval/Gothic church/archway. The number six and the number one. Trepidation.

“I offer this to you.”

Do you see the icon? I fear whDSCN2204_smallat it portends. Cave-like darkness behind him. Where does it lead? The page is an assistant.

Follow me.

Magenta, red. Gold trim. Long fingers.

“You don’t want to go there. I’m warning you. I serve him. Not you. He is great and powerful, will do great things. See, the disk? He is immortal. You cannot win.”

Whatever lies in wait is not revealed. Behind him is the unknown.

“I have no choice. He has shackled me to his service. I cannot leave, but you can. There’s still time.”

How little he knows. You are more shackled than he. You have a right to follow this path. It is pre-ordained. You will not leave. There are answers down that corridor. Your father? He’s waiting. He knows you’re coming. Has known you would come for quite some time. Once begun there can be no turning back. He’s a monster. And you are spawn of the monster. You are of his blood. He has the answers you need. As his daughter, he has already shaped your destiny. You have come a long way to discover the answers to your questions.

Why do you shift? Why do you crave the ravaging of flesh?

He’s a scientist. He hasn’t just fathered you, he created you to be in the image of his dream. Your nightmares.

Your mother took you away as a young child. But she is dead – you killed her. That is the stain upon your soul. A guilt you can’t outrun. And it’s his fault.

This page, this child, doesn’t see the darkness in you; he sees the innocence. He sees what you want him to see. And he will lead you below, through the labyrinth. So you may end the life of he who made you.

The page – a closer link than you think. He is your half-brother. Created by him you seek, a child you cannot deny. When it is over, you will take him with you. Or is it already too late for him as well? Perhaps, but you must try. And at least neither of you will be left alone. Are there others?

You hear him laughing, laughing. You are incidental to his plan. One will live, one will die. It makes no difference to him. The page smiles, he takes your hand. You know what you must do.

He waits.

Bone Puzzles [Words Inside My Head]

It was not an awakening from sleep in the truest sense. It was more an…awareness, where before there was voidness. It was not an emergence from dreams, it was pain that thrust him back into the world. He did not breathe, his heart did not beat. And yet he was aware. That was the word. He did not smell in the sense of humans, the scents being more visually represented inDSCN2038_contrastcontrast2croppedlargercroppedside his brain. His skin was indestructible because of his origins. His heart had once beat as human. His bones, those belonging to a beloved dead man. When he walked he felt them slide together. He was one of many. Skeletal remains pieced together inside bronze, a beating heart the final piece to an intricate puzzle.

“The first is aware,” the sculptor said. “His flesh is supple.”

“You’ve done good work,” the boy heard a voice say. The sound of the voice materialized inside his head. A gigantic man, bearded, hairy, muscular. The boy was aware of the man as not a stranger. Someone familiar. But the boy had no memories of names.

His eyes focused and stiffly he stepped forward as though he had not used his limbs in a very long time. The bones inside him rubbed together, almost like flint to stone to wood, something inside him sparked and a warm shower of sparks shot through him. He gasped as the heart inside his chest thundered powerfully, and seemed to expand. He went breathless, for a moment.

“It’s all right,” a soothing voice said. The sound formed inside the boy’s head. A shape of gentle, hands sensitive, smooth pale human flesh. Lightly bearded, long dark hair. The boy’s heart sped faster. Liquid seemed to gush inside him, the sparks of bone rub diminished. Something warm spread across the boy’s bronze flesh. The boy turned toward the sound of the warm voice, already knowing the measure of the man.

“Father,” he said. “Creator.”

A gleam entered the sculptor’s eyes. “He is aware of me.”

“I have known you, father, from the moment this heart connected me to life. I felt your work upon my husk. You polished me, your hands upon my shell. You oiled me, you fashioned the whole of me. Your hands are callused, I felt you. They are knowledgeable hands.” He cocked his head. “What do you call me, creator?”

“The first,” responded his father creator. “You shall be known as Tyro.”

And thus that was the word stamped onto the boy’s forearm, an indelible mark of his beginnings.

The first of his kind.