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Do I
deserve love again when I have done nothing but murder? And when again I do find him, will there be anything of me left to give?
Though she treasures her homeland
of Ireland, Aislinn only knows she must find escape from the painful memories.
Not knowing where she is heading, her intuition beckons her to Italy. Perhaps,
she will resume her long ago dreams of becoming a famous violinist— such a
thing would be possible there. But that was before her existence had been
altered by her love for Donovan. How can those old dreams possibly even matter
anymore—when she has lost everything that did matter?
Barely sustaining herself in the
underground of Florence, Aislinn is found by a couple of
stunning seasoned vampires who offer
to take her under their wing and demonstrate to her how a vampiress should be
conducting herself. While relieved to be taken from her dreary
homeless existence and to be living
in their beautiful old villa, she finds acclimating to their
régime of seducing their helpless
male prey with the lure of sexual promises to be inflicting
turmoil on her conscience.
There is one catch. Aislinn is
truly enticed by Katja, the angelic Hungarian golden-haired
vampire. When Katja seduces her,
Aislinn is awakened to pleasures she never imagined existed before.
And she wants more. Much more . . .
Even as she battles against
everything that they are—and in turn, everything she is becoming—Aislinn cannot
help but be overcome with the intense sexual lust, as well as the
bloodlust of their realm. Determined
to find her love reincarnate once again—as she avowed to him as he lay dying in
her arms—she is struggling against losing herself and preserving her virginity
in the midst of these increasingly overwhelming desires.
Then, one day, Aislinn is certain
she glimpses and catches the scent of her love. With this new driving force,
she is desperate to be with him again. But she knows she must be vigilant in
safeguarding her secret. It is vital
that she finds him before they do and relish turning him into their next
victim.
When her cohorts imprison Aislinn
in the dungeon, she sinks into despair. Now, how will she ever find him?
Worse yet, trapped there, how will
she protect her love from them?
What Aislinn does not know is that
she possesses powers of which she is unaware.
Will she discover them in time to
save herself—and her one true love?
‘Soeis’ is a 77,000 Word/ 275 Page Full-length Novel
and is preceded by Cailín, Book I of
Anam Céile Chronicles.
Buy ‘Soeis’ on Amazon for
$2.99.
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Excerpt for ‘Soeis’
The next evening, upon rising from her morbid
slumber, Zahrah found me and promptly said, “Come, we are going into town!”
“Thank you, but I’ll remain here,” I said, as always I did when they
went on their frequent hunts fer victims.
“I was not inquiring as to
whether or not you wished to
accompany us,” she informed me curtly.
“Now put on some decent attire so that we may depart presently!”
I did not conceal the scowl that came across me face at being ordered
about and forced to participate in something I did not wish to.
“What is your problem?”
Zahrah asked me. “Why do you insist upon
preventing yourself from delighting in the nature of what you truly are? Do you not realise that the beginning of your
existence as a vampire is a time when all your experiences are heightened, as I
sense your lust is? Never will you enjoy
it as much as you are able to now whilst still you are young. Do not deprive yourself, A-sleen!”
Still, respond to her I did not.
I turned and walked away, and went to me chamber and slipped into a fine
lavender silk gown that complemented me hair nicely.
Pleased Zahrah was with me appearance.
She had decided ‘twas time to train me as an accomplice to their
seductions of unwitting men. “I shall
take you under my wing, as somebody should have from your initiation. It shan’t be long until you are precisely as
I need you to be . . .”
Zahrah led our expedition to the nearest town to find a suitable
specimen fer me initiation to their lifestyle.
She struts down the street, seemingly ignoring every eye she turns. Her head she carries so high, as a sculpture;
her eyes wicked as she stretches her long legs, slinking as a feline. Men crouch at her feet as she passes, begging
fer her consideration. Rather it was
comical actually.
Fools! You hope to make her see
you? Do you think you’ll be the one to
make her queen of yer world? Fortunate
you should consider yourself if she chooses to overlook you!
“Now A-sleen, observe and see how it is done,” Zahrah declared, when
she had selected our victim fer the evening.
Not that any other undeserving person would have been better, but
particularly dismayed I was at her choice.
A right lovely young man he was, utterly innocent; he could not have
been even eighteen years of age. And, as
was to be expected, quite easily enthralled was he by the three of us
well-formed women.
Into our carriage he did climb without any hesitation, all
wide-eyed. By this time, awful I felt
fer what I knew was in store fer him.
Never before had I spent even a few minutes of time getting acquainted
with those I had fed from— conversing with them and charming them, inspiring
them to trust me, to like me, to want me.
Dreadfully unethical it felt!
Beside me he did sit, his heart rate accelerating straightaway. I smiled at him, hoping the sympathy I felt
fer him didn’t show through. He took
that as encouragement and placed his hand upon me thigh. I stiffened under his touch. Zahrah shot me a reprimanding, yet
reinforcing look. I knew she expected me
to play along. Though, I did not know if
I could.
He leaned over and began kissing me upon the neck. I did not respond, nor did I stop him. I only remained there, stationary while his
inexperienced lips fumbled their way about me neck. Katja leaned forward and ran her hands up his
thighs, quickly reaching the bulge under his trousers. His breathing quickened as she stroked him through
the material, sending bursts of warm breath upon me skin.
Then he bent his head lower and commenced with feverishly kissing the
swells of me cleavage as Katja opened his trousers and revealed his excited
manhood, gripping it expertly within her small hand. Zahrah shot me a look then, motioning fer me
to touch him as well.
What? I
cannot! Another man than me Donovan
never have I touched! Nor do I wish to!
Yet I did, knowing better than to displease Zahrah. I grasped it and he groaned. ‘Twas warm . . . no, hot within me hand. I noted Katja stroking it up and down, so I
mimicked her action. As I took over the
motion, she knelt down and took him within her mouth. Louder he did groan and suddenly grabbed me
face, covering me mouth with his, attempting to slice his tongue into me
mouth.
Trying so hard I was to push down the urges that were rushing their
way to the top! Instinctively, I stroked
him firmer as he kissed me, feeling him thickening in me hand. So powerful I did feel! Besides me desire threatening to overtake me,
the scent of his blood racing through his veins with his arousal was calling to
me.
Katja rose up and placed herself beside him upon the other side of the
bench. Sensing movement, I glanced to
see what she was doing and saw her removing her bodice, freeing her
breasts. The boy turned his head then
and upon seeing her ample bared breasts gaped in astonishment. Sweetly she smiled to him, touching his head
and gently guiding it to them. He did
not hesitate to draw her large nipples into his mouth and suckle as an infant.
I watched, partially intrigued and partially jealous, while continuing
to stroke him. Zahrah looked at me,
motioning fer me to do something I did not understand. I stared back at her in confusion. Quickly she did become exasperated with me
and resorted to using words.
“Climb astride him, A-sleen!” Zahrah ordered, her voice just a
whisper. I stared at her stupidly,
hoping she did not truly intend what it sounded as. “Sit upon his shaft!” Zahrah commanded again,
more impatiently.
I shook me head in
refusal. Trying to coerce me, she shot
me a harsh stare. However, waver I did
not. Again I shook me head, more
vehemently this time, a staunch expression of determination upon me face.
As I knew where this all was leading fer him anyway, I made the
decision to get it over with— fer him as well as meself— and picked up his hand
and brought his wrist to me lips. Still
immersed in the physical pleasure Katja was administering upon him, not a
smidgeon of attention did he give to that which I was doing. Me lips brushed across his wrist as I
deliberated.
This is the first time ever I have killed someone
against me own inclination. So young he is
. . . Yet his death is certain,
regardless. What he thought to be an
unbelievably lucky occasion with three beautiful women instead will show him to
his death.
Wishing only to have this over with, I opened me mouth and sank me
teeth through the flesh of his wrist into the vein beneath that had been
teasingly pulsing against me lips. ‘Twas
then his eyes connected with mine. They
ripped away from his lust filled gaze on Katja’s breast to shoot a look of
shock at me, the pain registering upon his face.
Into his eyes I did gaze as I drank him, reading the fear there— as
well as sensing it— the flavor of it invading, altering the taste of his
blood. But I strove to ignore it,
concentrating instead upon the delectable taste of his young blood going down
me throat.
Katja must have felt somewhat uneasy about it as well, fer with a
pleading look to me she whispered, “At least let us give him his full pleasure
as never before he has experienced . . .”
Nevertheless, discerning ‘twas too late fer this boy to reap any more
pleasure from her efforts, she grabbed his head, guiding it back to her
breast. ‘Twas then I first noticed the
translucent white liquid flowing from them, and me curiosity piqued. A bit shocked I was to see sweet Katja in her
role: luring him to his death, offering her ample breasts fer the boy to suckle
upon the whole time, apparently as a means to soothe and distract him from the
reality of his imminent death.
However, realization at what was taking place overrode his pleasure,
and the fear remained in his eyes as powerlessly he watched me drinking from him. Seeing his bewildered and pleading eyes, I
could go on no longer.
So young he is!
No right have I to end his life this way! I will not be the one to do it!
I broke me suction upon his flesh, and turned away from him, striving
to halt me bloodlust, to drive the thought of it from me mind.
Zahrah shot an angry glare at me.
“What are you doing, A-sleen?
Finish him!”
Me eyes closed tight with me strenuous effort as I ignored her. Delay she did not, the scent of the blood
still flowing from the vein I had punctured calling to her. Zahrah lunged forward to his throat, flinging
his head back and sinking her teeth in recklessly. Katja took his bleeding wrist to her lips and
delicately suckled the blood from it as he had suckled her. Moments later, his gasps choked off to
silence.
Against the side of the carriage wall I did hunch meself, me face
turned away, striving to hold me breath so that I wouldn’t smell his fresh
blood. Although I felt awful fer his
fate, relieved I was that at least ‘twas over and I could return home and
attempt to banish his face from me memory.
However, I knew unlikely that was.
To say that Zahrah was immensely displeased at this outcome of me
initiating quest would have been a severe understatement! Grabbed me she did, spinning me around. “What is the matter with you, ragazza!” she screamed at me. “Why did you cease in the midst of it like
that?” she demanded. The wild look in
her eyes, the contempt in her tone, it frightened me.
Uttering nothing in response, I shrunk from her into the velvet
wall. I just wanted her to disappear
from me. Katja looked at me from the
other side of the dead boy, a mixture of concern and sympathy upon her face.
Fumed at me lack of response, Zahrah slapped me hard, then grabbed me
roughly by me cheekbones, forcing me to look at her. Her mouth ‘twas bathed in his blood,
colouring her teeth red, drops of it falling from her chin onto her
cleavage. She looked absolutely
revolting. I gasped.
A monster she is!
What does that make me then?
“How dare you interfere with my
pleasure!” Zahrah hissed through her bloodstained teeth at me. “You will never
do something as this again!” Frozen I was
beneath her pointed fingers crushing into the bones through the flesh of me
face.
“Capisce?” I tried to nod, but she held me face too
tightly fer me to move.
“Speak!” she screeched.
“Sì, Zahrah!” I managed to
say, me face flaring with pain.
“You would do well to understand something, A-sleen,” Zahrah pronounced me name with a tone of
condescension. “When we hunt, it is my lead you follow. It is always my hunt you are so privileged to be joining, not yours. Consider yourself
fortunate to be my guest. It is by my
graciousness alone that you are
permitted to feed, and only after I
have taken all the pleasure I desire from him.
Is this clear?”
Her hold upon me face she released.
I nodded, and then quickly spoke me answer. “Sì,
Zahrah.”
Zahrah sat back, gloating in her satisfaction and smeared the blood
across her face with the back of her hand, which she promptly set about licking
clean.
The remainder of the jaunt back home ‘twas one of awkward silence, at
least on me part.
© 2013 Rosalind
Scarlett
