• Friends and Foreplay – Part III

    Elizabeth sat comfortably at a corner booth, and looked over the expansive park just outside. In the distance, high-rises poked out from above the treeline. There was all sorts of activity going on in between: people jogging, buskers performing, muggers doing their dastardly deeds, and those who spent their days feeding the pigeons. In the background, she heard quiet lounge music and the chitter chatter of people busy with their meals.

    The Van Helsing Resurgence by Evelyn Chartres

    What a shame that she could not order just yet, since she was famished. Elizabeth looked down at her phone and saw that it had been a half-an-hour since her arrival. Unfortunately, Anne would be a while yet before making an entrance. To kill time, she enjoyed the view, thought about her never-ending caseload, and eyed the phone for notifications. This was nothing out of the ordinary when dealing with Anne, but she nonetheless resented that woman for making her wait.

    It had been years since Elizabeth last visited this particular restaurant, and truth be told, it was too rich for her blood. Her career as a social worker, one spent dealing with runaways and abused children, did not grant her a membership to the one-percent club. Places like this trendy restaurant, with its breathtaking view, were nothing more than an indulgence. It was unfortunate that to get Anne’s attention, she needed an appropriate venue to lure her in. That, and pick up the tab.

    After an additional thirty minutes and three visits from the waiter, Elizabeth lost patience and ordered a dry martini to go with her chicken Caesar salad. She reasoned that Anne could order once she arrived, whenever that happened to be.

    As fate would have it, just as she handed back her menu, a tall rotund brunette came through the front door dressed in designer clothing. Clearly, that dress had to be couture, because it did a wonderful job of drawing the eyes away from certain attributes while focusing them elsewhere, in this case, that rather generous cleavage.

    Elizabeth, in contrast, was a graceful and a modern woman, at least when judged by her haircut and mixed-race facial features. She had once been described as striking, a flawless beauty despite that slight scar just above her left eyebrow. While nearly invisible to most, it was a constant reminder about children and the dangerous games they played.

    Anne looked around the restaurant until she caught a glimpse of Elizabeth waving. She then flashed a fake smile before sauntering towards the corner booth.

    “Lizzy!” Anne exclaimed.

    Anne reached out for Elizabeth who got up in time to hug. Despite Anne wearing heels, Elizabeth towered over her friend, even in flats.

    “Anne! Always a pleasure. Was it a busy day at the courts?” Elizabeth asked.

    This would give Anne the chance to come up with an excuse for being over an hour late. Elizabeth often wondered why she did not set appointments with Anne an hour earlier. That way, Anne would be on time, or at least from Elizabeth’s perspective.

    “You know how it is,” Anne said in reply while perusing the menu nonchalantly. “What are today’s specials?”

    Anne used that question as a way to change the subject. She also noted that her friend had ordered without her, a trend she found disturbing.

    “I can’t, for the life of me, remember what the waiter said,” Elizabeth replied thinking that the lunch specials were no longer being offered, seeing how they ended at two. “I just ordered a salad and a drink.”

    Hopefully, Anne would get the hint that this was not a sky’s the limit type of outing, Though she feared there might be some sort of penance to be paid for ordering early.

    Fortunately, the waiter showed up just in time to break up the conversation. Elizabeth took in a quick sip of her drink and enjoyed how the alcohol burned the tip of her tongue. It had been a while since she last indulged in a stiff drink, and she would need a few more before this day was done.

    Nonetheless, she watched with interest as Anne ordered a soup and sandwich special, along with a cosmopolitan. That choice had been appreciated, since it softened the blow to her pocketbook.

    “Is that a ring on your finger?” Anne asked, noting the simple white-gold band.

    Elizabeth smiled warmly and blushed before replying, “Yes. I got married a few months ago.” Her smile grew exponentially before she continued, “I married a lovely singer-songwriter named Mary Scott. We met a few years back at one of her concerts.”

    In fact, this was something that Anne should have known. Had she bothered to look at Elizabeth’s Bealzabook profile.

    Elizabeth digressed and added, “She’s on a country-wide tour, so we’ve not seen much of each other lately.”

    “Hmmmmm,” Anne replied, the look on her face, making it clear that she was bored. “Sorry to hear… So why did you want to see me today?”

    Quick and to the point. A refreshing change for her friend, but where did that come from? Throughout college, Elizabeth had never known that woman to be straightforward on anything.

    Elizabeth began to question if Anne’s discomfort had something to do with her choice of spouse? Or was it the level of commitment and dedication shown for another? She had one sure-fire way to find out, so her eyes dropped down a few degrees and focused on Anne’s ample bust.

    “When was the last time you remember seeing Victoria?” Elizabeth asked, all the while keeping an eye out for any telltale signs of discomfort.

    True to form, Anne shifted slightly to avoid the gaze and uttered a befuddled response, “Not sure. I think it may have been a few weeks before the funeral.”

    That question caught Anne off guard almost as much as Elizabeth leering. Why was she being asked such a question? Unable to ask without appearing insensitive, she tossed the ball back to the other’s court.

    “You?” Anne asked.

    “I was at the funeral. Do you remember how dreary it was that day? I don’t think anyone managed to exchange more than a couple of words with her. A handful of us were there for support, but she wasn’t really there,” Elizabeth said. “You know?”

    Elizabeth paused to take another sip of her drink. She then looked towards the kitchen and wondered why their food was taking so long. After all, salad and cold chicken did not require a great deal of preparation.

    “No one has seen hide nor hair of her since…” Elizabeth trailed off.

    “No one has seen her since the funeral?” Anne asked with a hint of shock in her voice. “Wasn’t that last year?”

    “Actually, it was two years ago. Shortly after the funeral, she moved out of the estate, quit her job, and then—poof!” Elizabeth said.

    Since Elizabeth worked primarily with children who had a habit of running away, those actions showed up as red flags. Of course, one had to wonder what Victoria was running from.

    “No updates on Bealzabook, her name isn’t listed in the phone book, her mobile was disconnected, and no one I know has seen her in years,” Elizabeth said.

    “Really?” Anne asked.

    The waiter brought Anne’s drink, who then gulped half of it down as a diversion.

    “So why tell me all of this?” Anne asked.

    Elizabeth sighed seeing as this would end up being another dead-end. Either way, she asked, “You’ve known her much longer than anyone else. I met her in college where we shared a few electives. That led to us teaming up for projects, and she ended up dragging me to those horror movie marathons. Still, you must know something? You’ve known her since high school.”

    Anne sensed where this was heading and hated being lured here for this. Had it really been that long since she had last seen Victoria? While they were not the best of friends, the two had followed each other through the academy, college, and law school. She even took advantage of the vacuum Victoria left by quitting her law firm, even though several clients subsequently changed firms once they got their corrected bills.

    To avoid the subject further, she deflected once more by asking something in return, “Perhaps she found herself a man?”

    Elizabeth scoffed at the idea. Anne was lucky that her friend had not been sipping her drink in that moment.

    “You remember what happened with Marcus back in college? I doubt she ever really recovered from that,” Elizabeth said. She then cocked her head and asked in return, “Weren’t you and Marcus an item?”

    Anne turned white as a sheet and failed to reply. Elizabeth knew that Anne had been instrumental in getting Marcus away from Victoria, although that was not necessarily a herculean feat. Marcus was known for his fetishes throughout college, and since Victoria was not putting out, the rest was history. Anne was a woman who squirted on command, the least risqué of skills in her sexual repertoire, and that got his attention. In the end, it was a choice between gaining access to a family fortune in the distant future, or a quick lay. Funny how that choice seemed so simple in retrospect.

    However, Elizabeth was not aware that Anne and Marcus were still a thing, available on speed-dial day or night, with no strings attached. Fortunately, Victoria never learned of the true reason of their breakup, but the way that man left her certainly merited him a special place in hell. Elizabeth had been the one left holding the pieces and spent more than her fair share of time watching horror movies with the devastated woman. Thankfully, the tapes had worn out, which granted her a merciful reprieve.

    They ate in silence once the food arrived. Elizabeth was not yet done with this conversation, but felt that Anne needed to regain her composure. She kept busy by thinking back to her college days, specifically, when her interests in men came to an end and she realised how thankful she was for not ending up with her own version of Marcus. Sure, men were fine but none ever left her feeling satiated.

    It was nothing more than a stroke of luck that she met her true calling for partners. Youthful, and full of spirit, a firecracker really, she had piercing green eyes and a smile that entranced. These were all traits typically found in a freshman art student. She was the reason Elizabeth liked women, along with a renewed appreciation for the arts.

    Elizabeth had fond memories of that relationship, including one that involved a lot of paint, long rolls of paper, and their naked bodies. That summer had passed by like a dream and she often wondered what ever happened to her.

    Oddly enough, the musical tones in Mary’s voice had the same intoxicating effects on her. While a coincidence, it created an immediate bond with Mary, a secret that Elizabeth would take to her grave.

    “So, I hired a private investigator,” Elizabeth said.

    She was about finished eating the last leaf of the salad. In some cultures, it was seen as a sign of respect to leave something on the plate, and she began to wonder if Anne had ever heard of that particular custom.

    Anne put down her fork and sighed, All the while trying to come up with an excuse that would get her out of this. Unfortunately, nothing she thought of, would let her off the hook, or at least not without painting her as some sort of monster.

    “Why are you so worried about her anyway? People like her don’t just disappear, you know? The media would be in a frenzy if she did,” Anne said.

    “I thought of that. Still it doesn’t make sense that she would just drop.” Elizabeth said after she polished off her drink.

    As though reading her mind, the waiter brought in a fresh martini.

    “I asked the foundation looking after her parent’s affairs about her, but they refused to tell me anything. Mind you, this company is renowned for protecting the privacy of their clients,” Elizabeth said.

    Before Anne could reply, Elizabeth added more to the narrative, “I came across a car salesman at a local bar. He kept on bitching about some frost queen that almost got him fired. So I flirted a bit, and he confessed that Victoria bought a car! That one nearly blew my mind.”

    “No doubt,” Anne said nonchalantly, but she did agree in retrospect.

    “Even that was over a year ago. So when I asked the PI, he looked into the matter and found out that her car was registered to the foundation. The address also matched the one for their corporate headquarters,” Elizabeth said.

    Elizabeth began to question why she even bothered to tell Anne any of this. Could this woman to be more self-absorbed? Nonetheless, she carried on because it felt more like a confession at this point.

    “That, in itself, is not out of the ordinary for those who are well off,” Elizabeth said. After a brief pause, she added, “Eventually, he managed to break into the foundation’s computer system and found the address for a unit along the park. When I visited, the place looked deserted, but there was a pungent odour coming from a broken window.”

    Elizabeth was parched, so she finished half the glass and noted that Anne had made no progress on hers.

    “I tried to tell the doorman, but he insisted everything was fine and not to worry. That’s the most tight-lipped bastard I ever met… then I read the newspaper.”

    “News?” Anne asked, this time appearing to be genuinely interested, but Elizabeth found it difficult to be certain.

    Elizabeth nodded and said. “Remember a few weeks back, some news about a car bombing in a parking garage near here?”

    “That was him?” Anne asked loud enough for most of the restaurant to overhear. Then she covered her mouth, calmed down, and spoke in a hushed voice, “I thought they said it was a gas leak?”

    “One of the investigators on the case is a big fan of my wife’s music. So he let me in on some of the details,” Elizabeth said.

    To fuck with Anne! Elizabeth began to stare at her cleavage and this time with far less discretion. In itself, that was not a difficult task, since the woman was facing forward.

    “To his knowledge, Russian anti-tank mines and ruptured gas mains are not normal occurrences in this city,” Elizabeth added.

    This time, Anne said nothing, nor did she move to avert Elizabeth’s gaze. The social worker grinned, finished off her drink, and set the glass down loudly on the table. To watch Anne jump. For a moment, they laughed, but it was obvious that their nerves were frayed.

    In trying to calm her nerves, Anne said, “You can’t be serious!”

    “Ah, but I am,” Elizabeth replied. “Two days ago, that doorman went missing,” she added realising how ridiculous this all sounded.

    Anne’s eyes grew wide before she stuttered, “Really?”

    She then looked at her own phone and triggered an app that made the phone vibrate.

    “Oh look at the time!” Anne exclaimed while she got up and smiled meekly. “I have a very important appointment with a client. It’s been a pleasure. So, next time lunch is on me?”

    Of course, Elizabeth knew this was nothing more than an excuse. Should she expect any different from Anne? Truth be told, this had been the fourth friend she sought in as many weeks. Every time she was met with the same detached attitude, and nonchalance, always coming up empty handed.

    “With friends like you, why would Victoria need any enemies?” Elizabeth shouted as Anne left the restaurant.

    Frustrated, the social worker ordered another drink, and dropped her card on the table to pay her tab. With no desire to see the tally, she told the server to add up the gratuity himself. That way, she could avoid seeing the damage until her credit card statement arrived. Bored, she went back to people-watching and nursed her drink.

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!


  • Evelyn Reads Pomegranate

    Rating: 5 out of 5.

    Greek and Roman myths have been getting a lot of attention from writers of late. There exists a cornucopia of stories ranging from the re-telling of old myths to modern-day versions. Surprisingly, Pomegranate by Nicole Scarano does not conform to either ideology. Instead, it guides the reader down a path to the unknown.

    Pomegranate by Nicole Scarano

    Her main character, Hades, diverges heavily from the myths of old, and the expression “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” applies perfectly to this character and her story. The author uses politics, betrayal, discovery, ingenuity, and love to create a character who feels so real that I imagined Hades stepping out of the pages.

    This complexity extends to the other characters as well, including some quirky and memorable interactions with creatures of myth. Nicole uses this to great effect, at times to bring about some levity after a buildup of tension or to use emotion to drive home the true impact of a scene.

    The story was an easy read, filled with frequent natural stops that permit a reader to savour every word. I never felt bored while reading this story, ever curious about where it was leading me and if hell would break loose.

    This book is highly recommended for anyone who enjoys Greek mythology but hungers for something different. The character driven saga will be sure to leave the reader thirsting for more.

    Fortunately, the novel Pitchfork, Nicole‘s sequel to this book, is looming on the horizon. Be sure to remember your bribe for the ferryman to be granted safe passage on her latest tale.


  • Friends and Foreplay – Part II

    After leaving that dive bar, Clara walked for the better part of an hour down desolate streets. Something seemed off about the city. While Clara could not think of the reason why, she knew that any city of this size should be teeming with people. So why was this entire area boarded up? There were no cars other than derelicts stripped bare. Litter covered the streets and some drifted around harmlessly, carried forth by the wind.

    The Van Helsing Resurgence by Evelyn Chartres

    “How could there be any part of this city so sparsely inhabited?” Clara asked.

    She did not expect an answer, nor was one provided. There were other mysteries to solve before the night was done and her musings on population density did nothing to achieve her goal.

    In the distance, she spotted something and initially thought it was nothing more than a trick of the eye. Was that a truck? Clara’s heart rate rose in excitement, prompting her to focus her thoughts to bring it back down to normal. It had been a long time since she last needed to manipulate her heart rate, but Clara needed to remain calm. For now.

    Before she approached the vehicle, Clara kept an eye on her surroundings. All around, there were potential avenues for an ambush or ways to mount an indirect attack. There were plenty of monsters that were smart enough to lay such traps and patient enough to wait for an unassuming victim.

    “Wait till they get on my bad side,” Clara said under her breath.

    Her training left her with the necessary toolset to deal with such eventualities: how to ignore the cold or the heat and put mission before self, even at the cost of her own life.

    “Anything that tries to fuck with me will end up having a bad day,” Clara said casually as she approached the vehicle.

    From this distance, she noted that the headlights were lit and there was a ghostly glow to them. The vehicle was old, or appeared to be at least, when compared to what she saw in modern films.

    Cars had been a rich man’s luxury when Clara was a child. As time progressed, they became more popular and ubiquitous. In the last decade of her life, she even learned to drive, a useful bit of knowledge for disposing of wealthy vampires and their rides.

    She never expected to come across a truck that survived the Dirty Thirties. It was a real piece of work too: bright red paint, chrome buffed to a shine. This vehicle looked better than it would have off the lot.

    “Now why would anyone leave something like this lying around?” Clara asked.

    Clara drew her pistol and swept the truck for any potential threats. She checked the cab, the bed, and the undercarriage, all without finding anything to worry about. Clara paused, furrowed her brow, and looked utterly confused. Simply put, this was too easy.

    She eventually accepted the situation based on nothing more than faith and opened the door. Since the lights were dim, Clara popped the hood latch release and went ahead to have a closer look.

    “Oh my!” Clara said in awe.

    Whatever was crammed into the engine compartment looked nothing like the stock engines from her time. Every square inch of space had been used up to house the engine and supporting systems.

    “Someone was compensating for something,” Clara said before letting out a snicker.

    Despite everything looking shiny and new, the compartment still smelled of lubricants and petrol. It brought back some great memories of having her way with men in the back of these classics. She even learned to appreciate rumble seats.

    With a sigh, she slammed the hood into place. As a final precaution, she scanned the area but again, found nothing. For many, this implied they were alone, but that was rarely true.

    “Too easy,” Clara said.

    Clara slid into the cab as best she could. The leather of her pants clung to the seats. Clara had no choice but to chuckle, since fate managed to save her a little surprise after all.

    She looked over the console and found most of the gauges and dials to be familiar. Since the keys were in the ignition, she turned the key and as expected, nothing happened.

    “Horsefeathers!” Clara swore.

    Thinking back over her days of yore, Clara remembered to check the choke. Her eyes scanned every feature on the console to no avail. There were no plungers or dials for a choke.

    “What now?” Clara asked herself.

    The last thing Clara wanted to do was push this flivver down the road until she reached a hill. While she had no specific time and place to rendezvous, Clara sensed she was needed somewhere, and fast.

    “There must be—,” Clara said but stopped when an idea ran through her mind.

    She pressed down on the clutch and break until both were firmly in place. In this position, her legs were strained so she fumbled around with the seat until she could reach comfortably.

    She then turned the keys and felt the engine roll over. The first pass sounded laboured, as though the engine had been kept out on a frigid winter’s eve, but on the second turn, it roared to life.

    “Yes!” Clara exclaimed.

    When the engine began to grunt, she pressed down on the throttle, and made this engine roar once more. In that moment, Clara knew that she was going to have a lot of fun with this truck.

    She released the brake, eased off on the clutch, and gave it some gas. The truck’s rear wheels squealed releasing a noxious black cloud into the air. Before Clara had a chance to smell her handiwork, the truck was already screaming down the road.

    “Di mi!” Clara exclaimed. “I think I’m in love!”

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!


  • Evelyn Reads Werewolf Nights

    Rating: 4 out of 5.

    Mari Hamill brings to life a unique world where werewolves and hunters are ingrained into the fabric of the culture. In Werewolf Nights, not only is there a fresh take on werewolf lore, but the town, stores and even the local university pay homage to their namesakes.

    Werewolf Nights by Mari Hamill

    The story starts off with an apparently innocuous outing. Catherine Mercy, a femme fatale who had to deal with the disappearances of the only two men she ever loved, goes out on a date. So what could possibly go wrong? In a place where everyone knows your name and rumours travel faster than light, the opportunity for mischief rises exponentially!

    While the cast is varied, the story is mostly focused on the main character, Catherine Mercy. Her tragic past, kind nature, creativity, and ultimately, her ability to face challenges head-on endear the reader. I would devour more stories from this author simply to watch Catherine in action!

    Werewolf Nights is a fast-paced, light read that flawlessly combines fantasy, action and romance into one comprehensive tale. If you are hunting for a story that has the feel of a telenovela with a hint of Dark Shadows, with werewolves instead of vampires, then this book is for you!


  • Friends and Foreplay – Part I

    “What are these called again?” Brett asked before biting down on the flat bread and meat combo that was dripping white sauce.

    Breanna rolled her eyes, pretending to chew her food to avoid answering. After the day they had, she wanted nothing to do with them. Unfortunately, they still needed to restore auxiliary power.

    “It’s called a donair,” Mason said in annoyance, while using his fork to take a bite of his.

    Brett scoffed at his counterpart’s eating habits. With all three on edge, every exchange was like a game of hot potato, except with an unstable grenade. Fortunately, the others were giving Brett’s antics a pass because he was the one who spent hours configuring systems in an attempt to restore power.

    All Breanna could think of was her thirst, so she plunged the straw through the thickly packed ice and settled it against the corner. After rattling the contents of her cup, the syrupy goodness travelled up the straw and onto her tongue. For a brief moment, the sweetness made her smile. Alas no amount of sugar could keep that up for long.

    Without any reason to linger, Breanna returned to her station. Displays were dim, make it difficult to see, so she relied on memory to fly through the prompts. This way, her eyes only needed to focus on responses to reduce eyestrain.

    “Hmmm,” Breanna said.

    She repeated the last couple of steps expecting the results to change but they did not waiver. That really got her curious, so she leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling.

    “What’s up?” Mason asked to avoid watching any more of Brett’s so called eating.

    Breanna used the ceiling as a blank slate. Soon, equations filled the void, followed by images and vast amounts of information. Every time she reached a dead end, the white space was restored and another cycle began.

    “Breanna!” Mason called out.

    “What the f—” Breanna said half-distracted.

    Mason had seen this before. This was her way of escaping into the depths of her mind. In many ways, he envied that talent: the ability to tackle complex problems without the aid of technology or meditation.

    “You with us?” Mason asked.

    Eventually, Breanna’s mind ran out of scenarios, so she cleared the board and focused on the workstation. As a precaution, she ran the calculations again and got the same results.

    “The very definition of insanity,” Breanna said. “When can we get main power online?”

    Mason shrugged before he said, “Assuming no more nonsense? I would say days or even weeks. Why?”

    “I noticed that our inertial systems are out of tolerance,” Breanna said.

    “What would cause that?” Mason asked.

    “Normally, a glitch like that will sort itself out. Or a near-Earth object is interfering with our readings,” Breanna replied.

    “Let me get this—,” Mason tried to ask but Breanna beat him to the punch.

    “There are no objects of sufficient mass within range,” Breanna answered. “And this is not a glitch.”

    “So, what’s causing it?” Mason asked, half-expecting her to cut him off again.

    The wide smile and narrow stare Breanna adopted gave her a devilish appearance. Both Mason and Brett subconsciously cringed, worried about the gravity of this information.

    “An increase in Earth’s mass,” Breanna said.

    Mason realised why he had been allowed to ask the question. While her constant interruptions did speed up chatter, Breanna wanted to make sure he got the message.

    “How much?” Mason asked.

    This exchange caused Brett to slow down his gluttonous activity. His eyes trained on his coworkers to catch every detail of what was going on.

    “I’m not sure since I can’t confirm my data using our orbital constellation,” Breanna said.

    “How much?” Mason repeated.

    “Between one and two percent,” Breanna said faintly.

    Brett’s mouth opened wide enough that the contents of his mouth fell back onto the plate. While wholly unappetizing, it did emphasize the severity of this revelation.

    “How?” Mason asked with a quivering voice.

    Breanna’s eyes lingered on Brett before she turned over to Mason, shrugged, and answered, “No clue…”

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!


    Filed Under
    ,
    Tagged With
  • Evelyn Reads Timepiece

    Barbara Avon has a penchant for historical settings and makes use of era-specific nuances to add some spice to her worlds. Timepiece is no exception, introducing a clever plot device in the form of a faustian purchase that keeps perfect time… at least when one is not leaping through it.

    Rating: 5 out of 5.
    Timepiece by Barbara Avon

    Timepiece is foremost a character-driven love story, and the author shows her talent by rendering multiple iconic time periods for her characters to interact with. The slang, clothing, and mannerisms all change to accommodate the era and give every period an authentic feel. It is an aspect of this story that I enjoyed.

    Of note, there are Easter eggs for those who have read Barbara‘s previous works. Alas, any mention of Clara or The Grand in this work of fiction is purely coincidental!

    I thoroughly loved this story and it comes highly recommended. Barbara has a wonderfully descriptive writing style that suits the stories she weaves. The ending fits in perfectly with the overall theme of the book and eluded me until the very end.

    Timepiece reminded me of a dramatic film and was well-worth the price of admission!


  • Evelyn Reads Vienna Blood

    Rating: 5 out of 5.

    Lately, I’ve not had much time for any light reading. So when my eyes fell upon the cover of Vienna Blood by K.C. Bloom, an erotica that features both lesbians and vampires, I found a reason to indulge.

    Vienna Blood by K.C. Bloom

    I read The Taste of her Blood, the first book of the series, earlier this year and found it to be a delightful read. It reminded me of a dark fairytale that featured a bit of erotic heat to sell it.

    Vienna Blood has a different feel to it, because the innocence expected of a fairytale’s main character slipped away with the first novel. Instead, the author changed the setting to a prominent European city filled with women and court intrigue. The characters adapt well to this new environment and are soon involved in a situation that is outside of their control. What happens next is exactly why this book is a must read.

    K.C. Bloom is a wonderful storyteller, one who easily weaves action, intrigue and lust into a story that leaves you yearning for more. How fortunate for me, that there is a third book from the same vein that is calling out to me.


  • Shadows and Echoes – Part IV

    Victoria stepped over the doorman, before making her way to the front door. Just ahead, Evelyn’s footsteps echoed when her heels made contact with the hardwood floors.

    In that moment, Victoria was happy, content with the world and the part she was to play in it. She had a guide, confidant, and friend in Evelyn, a woman that saw great potential in her, something that no one else had ever seen before.

    “Could this moment get any better?” Victoria whispered.

    As though the gods themselves decided to intervene, the scene’s mood changed for the worse. The power cut out, which plunged them into twilight and awoke a fresh set of senses.

    As a mortal, she would have been blind as a bat, but now the world retained a level of detail. To the unaccustomed, her night vision was more like seeing the world represented in a series of blueprints. She saw the outlines of objects and structures, but none of the finer details were present.

    Her hearing had also been enhanced. She heard the compressor in her refrigerator slowing down and had no trouble picking up a deluge of boots stomping up the stairs. At first, the sounds were distant, but they grew in intensity until they were just outside the door.

    “Is that their heart—,” Victoria wondered before a loud thump flooded her senses.

    The sound forced Victoria to cover her ears in response. To the uninitiated, it was comparable to an explosive charge going off nearby.

    Evelyn had no such concerns. Her years of experience taught her to control these heightened senses. Victoria watched the vampire advance at a frightening pace. Her elder knew exactly what was going on, the extent of the incursion, and how much trouble they were in.

    “Run!” Evelyn exclaimed just as a second impact struck the door.

    The shock from the impact caused the door to splinter around the securing mechanism. As the door swung open, the elder ran past the opening with claws extended. Victoria was confused, unsure of what was going on. That second impact left her stunned, her mind muddled, and choices unclear in the midst of so much chaos.

    “Freeze!” the team leader ordered.

    The word hung in the air, like an opera singer holding a note for as long as possible. Victoria opened her eyes just in time to witness Evelyn take the offensive.

    Ahead of the man who barked out orders, there were four others holding a battering ram. The lot of them were dressed in black, wearing night vision goggles, and their heads were adorned with combat helmets. Her night vision did not allow her to see the word SWAT printed on their tactical vests, but she could guess that much.

    Evelyn reached out for the first man on her left. Her claws ripped through the light fabric around his neck and dug into the flesh around his larynx. She then used him as a pivot to propel her knee into the face of the man on her right. That impact drove the night vision goggles into the man’s forehead and tore out the larynx of her first victim.

    With the grace of a dancer, Evelyn straddled the battering ram as it fell towards the floor. Since the last two men were still holding onto the heavy implement, she grabbed the forward handles and waited.

    As soon as her feet touched the floor, she gave it her all. Her strength easily propelled the battering ram away from her and towards what remained of the unsuspecting team. The ram, now a missile, flew towards the team leader and broke the wrists of those who held on.

    By then, Victoria had managed to regain a modicum of coherence, just in time to witness blood gushing out in spurts, while the other man just dropped to his knees and toppled forward like a log.

    The battering ram impacted the team leader’s chest. Even from this distance, Victoria heard the aramid liner stretch and strain, followed by the sound of breaking bones. With her heightened hearing, each break sounded like a branch snapping under strain.

    “Run!” Evelyn screamed.

    The elder swung her clawed hand at the closest man’s leg and severed the femoral artery. Without time to watch her handiwork, she turned towards the fourth man. She sprinted towards him, buried her hands into his midsection and grabbed onto his ribs. The elder pushed through the wall, disappearing behind a cloud of plaster, dust, and splinters. Once she breached the wall, she sent her shield flying towards another team who had their guns at the ready. The sound of shattering bone and ruptured organs made Victoria sick to her stomach.

    Evelyn turned around to face the next wave of assailants, but they anticipated her move. Before her chest was aligned with the group, there came a loud percussive bang. There were limits to maintaining her heightened speeds for long. Had she fed recently, she might have been able to dodge the attack. Instead, the bean bag struck her in the centre of mass, crumpling her midsection as her body absorbed the shock.

    Undeterred, Evelyn bared her fangs. The remnants of this team were not about to lose the initiative, so a spent shell casing sprung through the air while another round was chambered.

    Evelyn pushed away from the wall just in time to take a slug to the shoulder followed by small arms fire that perforated her chest. Even though the individual shots were having little effect, it was clear the combined trauma was slowing her down.

    Victoria witnessed Evelyn hit the wall hard before slumping to the floor. While the team advanced, they maintained a steady stream of fire, never giving this predator the opportunity to renew her attack.

    In that moment, Victoria decided to run. She began to walk backwards, then pivoted into a run while heading towards the master bedroom. From here, she saw the narrow alley and a neighbour’s window across the divide.

    It happened so fast, that her mind barely registered what had happened. She only had a vague recollection of hearing glass breaking in quick succession followed by hitting a wall head first. Then, just like that, the world faded to black.

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!


  • Shadows and Echoes – Part III

    When Edith was done, she existed the bathroom feeling very much like herself. Sure, she was a bit of a flour lover, one too liberal with the powder, but that had always been her style.

    On the other side of the door, she saw a map of the city. At the periphery, she found her landing site, surrounded by this neighbourhood. It was a snap to find where she was, considering there was a gold star that served as a point of reference. However, that was not what caught her eye.

    For the first time tonight, she heard whispers, as though they were carried forth on the wind. In the middle of a city of concrete and steel, there was a large expanse of green that took up a huge swath of real estate. Something about that place beckoned and urged Edith to make her way there.

    “Finally,” Edith said.

    Now all that she needed to do was get there. Fortunately, the solution to that particular conundrum had also been solved. Beside the map, there was a phone wired directly to a cab company.

    “Perfect,” Edith said.

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!


Search