Not Another Vampire Book

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by Cassandra Gannon




  Not Another Vampire Book

  Cassandra Gannon

  Text copyright © 2012 Cassandra Gannon

  Cover Image copyright © 2012 Cassandra Gannon

  All Rights Reserved

  Published by Star Turtle Publishing

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  Books by Cassandra Gannon

  The Elemental Phases Series:

  Warrior from the Shadowland

  Guardian of the Earth House

  Exile in the Water Kingdom

  Treasure of the Fire Kingdom

  Queen of the Magnetland

  Coming Soon: Magic of Wood House

  Other Books

  Not Another Vampire Book

  Wicked Ugly Bad

  Coming Soon: Love in the Time of Zombies

  If you enjoy Cassandra’s books, you may also enjoy books by her sister, Elizabeth Gannon.

  The Consortium of Chaos Series

  Yesterday’s Heroes

  The Son of Sun and Sand

  The Guy Your Friends Warned You About

  Electrical Hazard

  Coming Soon: The Only Fish in the Sea

  Other Books

  The Snow Queen

  For Pop

  Who told me of world’s fairs and other adventures.

  Table of contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Every Vampire had an Eternal-One. One woman he was tied to forever. Destroying the woman meant destroying the Vampire. And Damien wouldn’t rest until he’d destroyed Slade. The Vampires had hunted his race since the beginning of time. Now, as the last of his kind, it was time he returned the favor. The human woman was an innocent pawn in their chess match of death, but Damien didn’t care. When you were fated to be a Vampire’s mate… sometimes life just sucked.

  Eternal Passion at Sunset- Chapter One

  “This is the worst beginning of any book I’ve ever read.” Karalynn Donnelly waved the manuscript in front of her father’s abashed face. “It’s terrible. Utterly ridiculous in ways that other terrible, utterly ridiculous books would just point and laugh at. We can’t print it. It’s a blasphemy against the written word.”

  “Now, honey, you’re barely one chapter in. You need to give it a chance.”

  “One chapter was all I could take! It’s making my brain bleed. Do you have any idea how many anachronisms are in the first twenty pages alone? How many stupid, clichéd lines? How many times random women throw themselves at Slade’s –wait, let me get this right.” She flipped through the stack of printouts. “Here it is. Here it is. Slade’s ‘pulsating, animal maleness?’” She looked up at her father, again. “Are you kidding me with this crap?!”

  “Well, that’s why I pay you, Kara. To smooth over the rough spots. That’s what an editor does.” Harold Donnelly wasn’t as spry as the running-back he’d been in his youth, his hair was greyer and his body rounder, but he could still move fast when he wanted to. He got to his feet, preparing for a hasty get-away as he took in her aggravation. “Your stepmother’s really counting on us to help her friend start her writing career. Tanya needs some handholding and your job is to help her get her bearings. Give her some constructive criticism. Some feedback.”

  “Feedback?” Kara nearly pegged the manuscript for Eternal Passion at Sunset at his oblivious head. “Dad, Gemma’s friend can’t write! At all. What kind of feedback can I give on a book written by someone who can’t write?”

  “Vampires are very hot, right now. I’m sure you can salvage something from it. Just get Tanya to refocus on the heart of the book and go from there.”

  Kara folded back the blue, plasticized cover, flipped to the first page, and read him the blurb that summarized the world’s worst novel.

  “Spunky and beautiful, Lady Melessa Fairfield dreams of escaping to the 1892 World’s Fair in Chicago, innocently believing that it is her one chance to avoid the arranged marriage to an accountant of her father’s choosing. Yet, she has no idea that evil lurks in the fabled White City, salivating at the thought of destroying her innocent, blonde beauty. A stalking menace consumed with a centuries old vengeance hunts Melessa. Damien, the last of the Wizard Warlocks, who knows that the beautiful, innocent Melessa is the destined bride of Slade, king of the noble race of Vampires.

  Age old enemies, Damien will stop at nothing to destroy Melessa, enrage his mortal foe, Slade, and win their supernatural war. Meanwhile, Slade will stop at nothing to possess Melessa’s fiery passion for his very own and have the one, beautiful woman who can fill the void of his lost soul. If only the beautiful flame-haired vixen will heed his powerful call and give herself fully to this dark knight, before the evil Damien enslaves her and the rest of the planet with his otherworldly powers and thirst for revenge.”

  Kara paused for a minute, once again taking in the staggering stupidity of those melodramatic, run-on sentences.

  Harold cleared his throat. “Can we say ‘dark knight’ without the Batman people suing us?”

  “I doubt it. The Buffy the Vampire Slayer folks probably won’t be thrilled with the lost soul plagiarism, either.” Kara arched a brow. “Also, the World’s Fair was in 1893, not 1892. Melessa’s hair color changes from one sentence to another, the word ‘beautiful’ is repeated about five times, and ‘Slade’ is just a God-awful name for a vampire. And that’s just the beginning of the problems with this story.”

  “Well, I trust you to work it all out.” Harold headed for the door.

  “Dad.” Kara followed him out of his office and out on to the main floor. “You need to talk to Gemma and get her to see that this Tanya St. Clair person is not a writer. I get that Gemma likes to help people and these two are gym-buddies or whatever, but Gemma doesn’t even like the gym. She told me she’s planning to quit going anyway, because they won’t stock Diet Pepsi at the juice bar. It’s a phase. She’ll forget her friend Tanya’s literary aspirations without us having to really print Eternal Passion at Sunset and waste precious trees making paper for this drivel.”

  “I can’t do that to her, honey. Besides, you’re always saying we should branch out, right? Release some romance novels?”

  “Good romance novels, Dad. Well-written. Likeable characters. An actual plot. Not another vampire book!” She waved the manuscript at him. “Do you really want to inflict this monstrosity on the unsuspecting world?”

  Donnelly Publishing was a small firm. Mostly they published movie novelizations and unauthorized biographies. Kara had bigger plans. Oh, she loved movies and she was very, very good at her job. Her DVD collection covered half the walls in her apartment and the books she edited almost al
ways sold well. For years, though, she’d been urging her father to expand Donnelly and publish more original fiction. Romance novels were fun and popular. She had stacks of them herself, because she enjoyed reading them. They would be such a great step for the company.

  But, Eternal Passion at Sunset was like a parody of a romance novel. If Tanya St. Clair had ever read one, she obviously hadn’t understood it. Every stupid plot devise that had ever been inflicted on the supernatural romance genre had been distilled into one barely coherent pile of gibberish. Gibberish Kara’s father wanted to print thousands of copies of. It was like making duplicates of that evil tape in The Ring.

  Donnelly’s offices sat on the fourteenth floor of a century old building, overlooking another century old Chicago building. Kara had the brief thought that she should just fling herself out the window and be done with it.

  “Gemma really wants this, Karalynn. It’s more than the gym-buddy thing. More than even the beauty license, or the law school thing, or the Peace Corps idea she had before. She wants to help people and she thinks finding talent just might be her niche.” Harold made it to the elevator and stabbed at the button. He was running away from the scene of the crime, the coward. “If you could just… mold the novel into some kind of printable shape.”

  “Wizard Warlocks, Dad.” The words said it all.

  “I know, I know, just…” He let out a sigh. “I can’t break her heart and tell her how bad her friend’s book is. I just can’t. You should see how pleased Gem is that she’s part of the publishing world.”

  Kara squeezed her eyes shut.

  She loved Gemma. She did. She didn’t resent her step-mother or want to upset her. Kara’s mother had been dead for over a decade and her father needed someone to make him happy. Gemma certainly fit the bill in that respect. The woman was nothing if not… Cheerful.

  Really, Kara liked Gemma’s bubbly cheerleader-ness. The woman flitted from store to store, job to job, landing just long enough to create confusion before zipping off to the next adventure. That could be endearing, in a rip-your-hair-out-by-the-roots-even-as-you-had-to-laugh sort of way. But, Donnelly Publishing was Kara’s life. Her grandfather had founded it. She’d grown up in these offices. How could she possibly publish a book like this with the Donnelly logo on the cover and still sleep at night, even for Gemma’s new friend?

  The elevator doors binged open and Harold scrambled inside. “We’ll do a very limited run. I swear. Just enough so Gemma can feel validated.”

  “Validated?! This is a business, not some life-coaching retreat.”

  “She wants to be part of our company, honey. Remember, it’s not just business. It’s a family business.” The doors began to slide shut. “Just do the best you can and I’ll see you Monday.”

  Kara swore softly as he escaped, leaving her alone in the office.

  She glowered down at the manuscript and wondered if she could just pretend to lose it or something. Gemma wasn’t known for her forethought or attention span. Maybe her friends weren’t either. Maybe Tanya St. Clair had forgotten to save the book on her computer and this was the only copy. For the good of all mankind, Kara could destroy it forever.

  Except…

  Damn it. Kara couldn’t do that to Gemma or her father.

  So, she’d spend her weekend trying desperately to salvage something from the seventy-two thousand word nightmare that was Eternal Passion at Sunset. God help her, she’d need a lot of red ink. And liquor.

  Figuring that she could do the reconstructive surgery at home, with a steady supply of alcohol close at hand, Kara marched back to her office and began packing up her stuff. Her apartment was only a few blocks away, so she rarely took her car to work. It was an easy walk in the crisp, autumn air. Kara collected her coat and pulled her red knit cap down over her brown hair. She liked hats. They disguised the slightly frizzy, impossible to tame curls that defied all styling products known to womankind.

  Kara found it easiest to just hide her follically challenged head. She’d never be the tall, blonde bombshell that Gemma was, but her stepmother refused to accept defeat. One birthday Kara would no doubt receive a hair transplant gift certificate.

  “Look your best and carry a charge card.” Written in pink, cursive letters, it could have been Gemma’s motto.

  Kara accompanied Gemma on shopping trips at least once a week. At first, she’d resisted the ‘girl time’ on general principles, but she’d actually come to enjoy the excursions. Gemma could be fun, even in the midst of the chaos, and Kara was a workaholic at heart. At thirty-two, she had no husband, had no kids, and no real prospect of getting either. She had her job and a whole lotta films to watch.

  And she was okay with that.

  But, if someone didn’t drag her outside sometimes, her entire social life would consist of staring at a movie screen or correcting grammar. Gemma had absolutely no respect for work schedules, so she was usually the one who forced Kara out of her rut. Harold was right in the fact that Gemma loved to help people. Sometimes Kara got the feeling she was her stepmother’s main, on-going project.

  Tucking the stack of pages under her arm, Kara headed for the elevator herself and hit the button for the bottom floor. What an unbelievably horrible day.

  Slade the Vampire and Damien the Wizard Warlock.

  No wonder nobody read, anymore.

  Unable to resist the traffic-accident allure and avert her eyes for long, Kara flipped the book open, again. She’d already read the first chapter, but if she was going to try and patch together something publishable from this mess, she’d have to actually pay attention to every word.

  Lady Melessa Fairfax was the most beautiful woman at the party. Not that her ranking as such was an unusual occurrence. With her raven colored tresses and sparkling blue eyes, Melessa was always the center of attention wherever she went. Men wanted to touch the alabaster perfection of her ivory skin, while woman wished that they could be this stunning, popular creature whose delicate laugh could light up a room. Melessa was all that was beautiful and pure in womanhood. That very day, the virginal beauty had saved four orphans and a puppy from drowning, yet she still took the time to buy the very latest of summer fashion to wear to the party. What other woman could hope to compete with such a prize?

  Kara rolled her eyes in disgust. She already hated Melessa, whatever her hair color.

  The girl sounded like a real bitch.

  The doors slid open and Kara stepped inside. The elevator was nearly as old as the building itself, with a brass arrow that pointed to the corresponding number as it moved between floors. Kara barely noticed the squeaking of the gears as the doors closed and she started her slow descent. The elevator in the Donnelly Building creaked along like molasses.

  But, it was more than just the lustful eyes of men and the envious stares of woman that followed beautiful Melessa as her slim figure glided among the guests who’d come to celebrate her betrothal. There was also the glowing black gaze of an ancient, immortal enemy whom she’d never even met. Damien, last of the Wizard Warlocks, was there for revenge and sweet Melessa was the key to all his nefarious plans.

  How could black eyes glow?

  What would that even look like?

  Kara dug into her bag, so she could start making corrections, right away. Her fingers had just closed around a pen when the elevator gave a sickening lurch. The overhead light sputtered, as if it had developed a short. The car stopped moving with a wavy jolt, like a bungee jumper at the end of his cord.

  Kara’s eyes flashed up, automatically going to the brass numbers above the door. The elevator had stopped between the ninth and tenth floors, trapping her. Great. She gave the doors a few ineffectual pulls and found them stuck tight. Just great. Sighing loudly, she leaned over to press the red alarm button.

  How was she going to get someone out there to rescue her on a Friday night?

  And where was the alarm? The elevator remained eerily silent and motionless. She glanced up at the ceiling. In movies the
re was always some kind of super-helpful access panel that people could crawl through. The top of the elevator was an embossed copper dome. Very pretty, but useless as an escape-hatch.

  Her anxiety levels skyrocketed as she realized she was stuck in here. Kara wasn’t claustrophobic, but she absolutely had to get out of that elevator. She knew it. She could feel the urgency of the situation in the pit of her stomach.

  She needed out.

  And that’s when the elevator dropped.

  The entire car just suddenly plummeted like the wires holding it had been clipped by giant scissors. Whatever breaking system should have kicked in didn’t. It was a massive free-fall that emptied her mind of everything for a few endless heartbeats of time. Kara didn’t even have time to flashback to her life, or pray, or jump up in the air to avoid the impact, or whatever you were supposed to do in the seconds before you were horribly splattered. In fact, the only thing she felt was… sad.

  Like she’d missed something or someone terribly important and now it was too late.

  Then, panic kicked in. Kara opened her mouth and screamed as she felt the floor rushing up to meet her. She could feel the elevator about to make impact with the ground and then…

  …The door swung open and Kara lunged for it.

  It didn’t even occur to her, in her desperate bid for freedom, that the door hadn’t slid open like usual. It had swung open, like an ordinary household door. And she hadn’t flung herself onto some rapidly passing office floor. Looking around, it seemed like she’d landed in a… garden?

  Kara couldn’t really process what had just happened for a moment. She lay there, an inexplicable gravel pathway under her body, breathing hard and trying to understand. How had she gotten clear of the elevator? How could she possibly survive its plummet? How did she get outside?

  And why was it so hot?

 

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