by Deanna Chase
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Acknowledgments
One of my favorite sayings is the old African proverb “It takes a village to raise a child.” In my case, it took a social network known as Facebook and a website called writing.com, to bring my book into being. While the actual creating part may have been from me, the critiquing, editing, polishing and general belief in this work came from many, many individuals. I won't have the room to thank them all one by one, but please know I'm grateful, more than mere words can express. You all know who you are.
No matter where I got the encouragement to finish my first novel, the work never would have been fit for public consumption without my old writing partner, Supriya Savkoor. You helped guide me on this twisted path to publication by sharing all your vast knowledge and experience on writing with me, and I thank you.
A big thanks to Hope Rice, for being the beta reader who found the most errors in my work. I'll try not to cringe when I think about how clean I thought the manuscript was when I sent it out.
Special thanks to my agent, Kristin Lindstrom, who believed in me and my book, even when the big publishers passed on us. Here’s to hoping we fare better in the overseas market!
Big hugs and a shout out to my family, friends, neighbors and book club members who dealt with me talking non-stop about my novel for well over a year. Oh—and an additional thanks, mom & dad, for agreeing to never discuss the sex parts in the book with me.
Finally, above all, I thank my best friend in the whole world, my husband Pete, for always believing in me and in this book, no matter what. All the achievements I could ever hope to earn would mean nothing without you by my side.
bookmarks:Glossary for Vampire Vacation
Glossary of Terms and Characters:
Antonio - a young vampire vacationing at the inn, and member of Liam's seethe.
Asa - the fledgling vampire sent by Cy, who was turned in Afghanistan while serving in the Army.
Angie - a human guest who stayed at the inn eight years ago with her first husband, Ivan.
Blood Coffee - a mixture of half-blood and half-coffee, favored by undead everywhere.
Blood Bond - a term used to describe the exchange of blood between either a human and a vampire, both ways, or a master vampire and a member of their seethe. It enables telepathic communication between them through the bond, if desired.
Bob - an employee, he works on the grounds-keeping crew.
Bonded Mate - a deeper connection than a servant, this bond allows the non-vampire to stop aging and share a significant amount of power associated with the bonded vampire. A complex ritual and exchange of large amounts of blood must take place for this bond to occur. The only way to break the bond is through death or a rare deep mind manipulation severing the link.
Bunny - Paul's wife.
Cali - Cy's bonded mate, and a werewolf. She's also Asa's aunt.
Companion - a human who has donated blood to a vampire and been accepted into the vampire's care for future feedings.
Cy - Vivian's contact in New York, whom she turned when she discovered him close to death in an alley outside his bar over forty-five years ago.
Debi - an employee at the inn, who also doubles as a blood donor.
Dr. Margery Cook - the onsite doctor on the property should a problem with a human arise.
Drew - a loner vamp who has come to the inn on his own to relax, and Angie’s second husband and bonded mate.
Dria - the master vampire narrating the entire story, aka Vivian and Alexandria.
Enforcer - a highly skilled vampire assassin, used as an instrument of justice by the tribunal.
Fledgling - term used for a vampire under the age of five years.
Francesca - Liam's bonded mate and human spouse.
Iona - an employee, a maid.
Ivan - Angie’s first husband and bonded mate.
Jerry - an engineer and sharp shooter employed twenty years on the property.
Jet - a master vampire, from Japan, vacationing at the inn with his spouse, Matt, and a human companion.
Joanna - a young vampire vacationing at the inn, and a member of Liam's seethe.
John Pierre - the dead guy in chapter one.
Jonathan - Vivian's werewolf servant and the head groundskeeper on the property.
Liam - a master vampire, from Scotland, visiting the inn with members from his seethe.
Liebling - German endearment, meaning darling.
Manipulator - a rare breed of vampire able to mind control other vampires. Usually hunted down and killed by their own kind to ensure they do not gain power over their fellow vampires.
Master Vampire - a vampire who heads their own seethe, or is independent of a seethe. One not requiring the blood of a master to gain in power, but has accumulated enough strength to hold their own in a battle where an older vampire may try to drain a younger one for their blood.
Mate - see Bonded Mate.
Matt - the bonded mate and human spouse of Jet.
Michelle - aka “Chelly”, an employee at the inn, who also doubles as a blood donor,
Miranda - an employee, originally from the UK, who mainly works the front desk.
Old Blood - a term used to describe the blood a seethe member gets from a master to increase their own power. Contains the added benefit of increasing a vampire’s perceived undead age if the blood is strong enough and consumed regularly.
Olivia - a companion from Liam's seethe, and the only human selected to travel with them on this trip.
Paul - a gourmet chef imported from the lower forty-eight, married to Bunny.
Rafe - Vivian's bonded mate for sixty-five years, and co-owner to the inn.
Rolando - part of the tribunal of ancients, located in Argentina.
Romeo - Jonathan's old Alpha, but not the Were who changed him.
Salvador - a master vampire who has visited Vivian's properties for over fifty years, who currently resides with his large seethe in Washington state.
Seethe - A vampire family, or group of vampires, with a master vampire at its head.
Servant - see Vampire Servant
Sheba - a companion in Salvador's seethe, on a long vacation with a group at the inn.
Theresa - Salvador's bonded mate and human spouse.
Tommy - an employee, originally from Australia, who mainly works the front desk and organizes the blood donor list for the guests.
Tribunal of Ancients - the governing body of ruling ancient vampires, entrusted with maintaining the secrecy of the existence of vampires from the human race.
Turning - term used for when a human has been changed into a vampire.
Vivian - the nickname for Dria, a play on words from The V V Inn.
Were - shorthand for werewolf.
Vampire Servant - a human, or Were, who has donated to and ingested the blood of a vampire. A mind connection can be established (and broken), allowing telepathic communication. The servant feels a desire to protect and serve the vampire above his or her own needs.
JUMP TO...
NEW REVELATIONS by HEATHER TOPHAM WOOD
ARMAND by APRIL AASHEIM
TUESDAY’S CHILD by DALE MAYER
JUST A LITTLE NUDGE by JESI LEA RYAN
HAUNTED ON BOURBON STREET by DEANNA CHASE
SPIRITS AMONG US by MORGAN HANNAH MACDONAND
LONDON by JC ANDRIJESKI
AMONG THE LIVING by JORDAN CASTILLO PRICE
VAMPIRE VACATION by C.J. ELLISSON
TOUCHED by HAZEL HUNTER
TOUCHED
A Second Sight Novella
Book 1
> BY HAZEL HUNTER
In the world of Isabelle de Grey, eyesight isn’t the only way to see. Her psychic ability gives her a second type of vision. When she touches objects and people, she looks into their past. But her gift is equal parts curse. She has yet to find the lover who can accept the brutal truth of what she sees. Isolated and rejected, she is ready to leave Los Angeles and abandon her career when she meets FBI profiler Gavin “Mac” MacMillan.
Thrown together when the daughter of a mutual friend is abducted, Isabelle discovers that Mac could be the man who won’t push her away. Despite his controlled exterior, she senses a fevered passion in him that boils just below the surface. But as she and Mac give in to their desires and race to save a young girl, Isabelle must learn yet again that every touch has its price.
Heat Level: 5
CHAPTER ONE
Isabelle twisted sideways to get out of the way of the police officer. He came barreling through the living room, which was rapidly filling with black uniforms. Even so, she never let go of Anita’s shoulders.
“We’re going to find her,” Isabelle said, gripping the older woman tightly, shaking her a little.
Dark circles underlined Anita’s puffy eyes, which now frantically searched Isabelle’s.
“Is that something you’ve seen?” Anita asked. “Do you know something?”
Isabelle slowly shook her head and drew her lips into a thin line. Not even the long-time clients understood.
“No,” Isabelle said gently. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”
Anita’s face fell.
When she’d first arrived, Isabelle had been shocked at the sight of her. She’d aged twenty years in a week. Her graying hair, normally drawn back in a barrette, was a curly and frazzled tangle. The smart business suits she usually wore had been replaced by a simple, cotton frock. But it was her eyes that were the most telling–haunted and bloodshot, as though her daughter were already dead. And now those eyes filled with tears.
Isabelle’s chest twinged, and she hugged the older woman to her.
“I’m going to find her,” Isabelle whispered. “I promise.”
“Excuse me,” said a voice behind her. “Coming through.”
Reluctantly, Isabelle let go and backed up. As Anita held a kleenex to her nose, a young man in a dark suit, white shirt, and black tie passed between them carrying some equipment. The large and well-appointed living room was getting crowded. A combination of uniformed police officers and detectives had been pouring in ever since Isabelle had arrived–shortly after Anita had called with the news that her daughter, Esme, was missing.
Through the expansive picture window that looked down the long, rolling front lawn, Isabelle could see that television cameras and lighting were being set up. Some of the reporters were already holding microphones to their mouths and talking, but what they could possibly be saying, Isabelle didn’t know. There was nothing yet to say–nothing of real importance. The only thing that anybody knew was that no one had seen Esme since yesterday morning, when she’d left her dorm room for a morning run.
“Honey,” said Anita’s husband. “Why don’t you and your…friend…move into the kitchen. We’re going to set up the command post here.”
Friend, thought Isabelle. That was polite.
“Here,” Isabelle said, extending a gloved hand to Anita and taking her by the arm. Isabelle had seen where the kitchen was. “Let’s get out of the way.”
She didn’t bother to look at Ben's disapproving face, knowing full well what she’d see. He’d said ‘friend’ but what he’d meant was ‘psychic charlatan.’ It didn’t take reading him to know that–and not just because it’s what most people thought. Anita had let slip more than once that her husband, an Assistant Director of the FBI in charge of the Los Angeles Field Office, wasn’t particularly accepting of her sessions with Isabelle. In fact, Isabelle had the distinct impression that Benicio Olivos could barely tolerate her.
As they moved toward the kitchen, she and Anita drew a variety of glances. The policewomen stared at her gloves–she wore the gray silk ones today–while the men cast furtive glances at her dress. In the spring heat, she’d worn a simple, lightweight scoop-neck dress with cap sleeves. Gathered at the waist with a small, white belt, the pleated skirt fell to mid-thigh and the aqua and gray pattern in it complemented the gloves–not the other way around. The gloves always came first. They had to.
Sprinkled among the curious glances were also a handful of frowns. Apparently word had already spread that Anita had called in her psychic. As they passed through the crowd Isabelle wondered which of the people wearing the conservative suits were FBI and which were police. As she did, it suddenly dawned on her why so much media was gathering at the bottom of the hill-like front yard–the daughter of an FBI agent was missing.
As they pushed through the swinging double-doors, the empty kitchen was a relief. Isabelle let go of Anita who immediately went to one of the wrought-iron stools at the center island and sank into it. A polished water kettle gleamed on the glass stovetop. Isabelle lifted it–full. She set it back down, turned on the burner, and then began to hunt for tea in the cupboards behind her.
“To the left,” Anita said quietly.
In the cupboard were a variety of boxes but, at the front, was chamomile. Isabelle brought it down and opened it but, as she did, she glanced at the coffee maker. No fresh coffee. The machine was off, and there was only a shallow eighth-of-an-inch of dark liquid at the bottom of the carafe. It’d have to do. As the water boiled, she fetched two mugs, put sugar in both, and a tea bag in one. She poured the cold coffee into her mug, the hot water into Anita’s and set the tea in front of her. The silk gloves made the handle slippery so she held the mug with both hands.
“Drink,” Isabelle said.
Then, as she followed her own advice, she downed the quarter cup of sludge in one gulp and nearly gagged. She hated cold coffee.
To say that she wasn’t a morning person was an understatement. Ever since her gift had surfaced, full-blown in high school, she hadn’t slept through the night. The readings and lingering images from her second form of sight made sure of that. Not only did they guarantee sleeplessness, they’d made loneliness the norm as well. Though at first Isabelle had tried to maintain relationships, the constant breakups, strained friendships, and simply knowing too much about people had all amounted to pushing them away.
Anita stared down into the teacup, unmoving, unblinking, as though she might conjure her own vision. And Isabelle realized that, for now, there could be no thought of giving up, not if she could help. Though she had finally resolved to stop working as a psychic and leave L.A., today was not going to be that day.
“I need to see her dorm room,” Isabelle said abruptly.
She’d gathered at least that much on the phone, even through Anita’s stream of consciousness. If that’s where Esme had last been seen, had last been, had last touched something, then that’s where Isabelle needed to start.
“You don’t want to see her room upstairs?”
“No,” Isabelle said, shaking her head. “Not unless she’s been here recently.” She paused. “Has she?”
“No,” Anita said, sounding disappointed. “No, she hasn’t.” She stood up from the bar stool, a little shaky. “Let me get Ben.”
Right, Isabelle thought. This ought to go over well.
In the living room, two computers had been set up on a folding table and one on the glass coffee table. Ben was standing stock still, arms crossed on top of his bulging middle, watching the frenetic activity. His face, like Anita’s, seemed to sag under twice normal gravity. The thinning hair with combover and the thick mustache had both already turned white. Though he seemed lost in thought, that wasn’t the case, because he turned to them as they approached.
“Honey,” he said tiredly to Anita while studiously ignoring Isabelle, “I’m sure your friend wants to help but…look around you.” He glanced around the room. “These people ar
e experts. They know what they’re doing.” He glanced at his watch. “And Mac will be here any minute,” he said. “He called from the airport.”
“Mac?” Anita asked, surprised. As she’d approached her husband, her face and the set of her shoulders had been determined. But that resolution suddenly vanished. “Mac is coming?”
A few of the faces in the surrounding sea of uniforms and suits turned toward them.
“Gavin MacMillan,” someone whispered.
“Coming here?” someone else said.
Anita seemed dumbfounded, and then her face began to brighten as though it was the first good news she’d heard in her life. But even as a little smile grew, it quickly faded. “It’s that bad?” she asked.
“No,” Ben said quickly. “No. But you know Mac. He couldn’t be stopped. And besides,” he said, grasping Anita’s arms. “Why shouldn’t we have the best of the best?”
Though he’d obviously meant to reassure her, Ben's effort had the exact opposite effect as Anita suddenly burst into tears and covered her face with both hands.
Isabelle didn’t know who this Mac was or what he was going to do, but she needed to get to Esme’s dorm room, right now.
“Ben,” came a deep voice from the front door. “I got here as soon as I could.”
Mac felt his jaw tighten as he watched Ben's grim face pathetically try to smile.
“Mac!” Ben exclaimed, clasping Mac’s outstretched hand. Mac pulled him into a hug.
“Ben,” Mac said, as Ben thumped him once on the back and then let him go.
As the older man quickly pulled back, Mac realized that the activity around them had stopped. All eyes were on them. Apparently Ben knew it too because he looked like he wanted to say something, even opened his mouth to start, and then clamped it shut as his eyes misted up. Ben apparently didn’t trust his own voice.