(Dulcea’s Rebellion, #1)
Publication date: October 10th 2019
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance
Some things never die. Hope. Heroes. Defiance.
Things take a strange turn for Dulcea, the elven enchantress turned war heroine and Dragonmistress, when a countryman’s betrayal lands her in enemy hands.
As she awaits her execution, a stranger with mysterious powers offers her another chance at life. Will she die here or risk what sinister fate he has in store for her?
Can Dulcea reclaim her rightful place and lead her army once more? Or does Krath, the man who travels the Realm of the Dead as one of its own, prove to be the obstacle that fells her rebellion?
… Or will this immortal vampire warrior turn out to be the best chance she has of defying the ancient evil arising in the west?
Dulcea stared at Krath in silence. Not only was he a creature of darkness, but he was dead. How had she not noticed that? She was breakfasting with a walking corpse. Dulcea realized she could not eat another bite and pushed her plate away.
“You… you do not look like a vampire,” she said.
Krath seemed amused by this.
“Why, have you seen a vampire before?” He leaned closer, favoring her with a broad grin, and for the first time she saw the flash of sharp canines in his mouth.
“No, but I know necromancers can raise vampires, and they—”
“—are nothing more than rotting corpses set back on their feet?” Krath smirked, finishing her words for her. “Necromancers can raise many kinds of blood-sucking and flesh-eating slaves, that is true, but they cannot create true vampires. We possess intelligence and free will. And I assure you we do not rot.”
She fought not to wince, thinking it might offend him. “But is it true you drink blood?”
A sudden chill ran down her spine, and Dulcea cast her gaze on the goblet in his hand.
“You are wondering about this?” Krath guessed, putting his goblet down. “It is just red wine. You may examine it if you wish. I can drink it, but I do not taste it. It does nothing to nourish me. I just do this to put mortals around me at ease.”
“So, when you said you had fed earlier…” She could not bring herself to finish the sentence.
“I drank blood, yes.”
Her stomach lurched, but she had to ask.
“Off a living person?”
“Yes. I drank the blood of a few of the priests at the temple. My bite can be just as lethal a weapon as a sword is.”
Her heart hammered in her chest. “Do you mean to drink my blood? Is that what I am here for?”
“You are asking about my intentions again, my lady.”
Dulcea took a deep breath and told herself to remain calm.
“You said you haven’t decided yet,” she said. “I remember.”
“You are a fascinating woman, Lady Dulcea, and your presence here amuses me. For the moment, I just wish to enjoy your conversation.”
“May my conversation continue to amuse you then,” she said, putting her hands down in her lap to conceal the fact they were shaking.
“I live in my own little world. But it’s ok, they know me here.” (Who besides me has this fridge magnet; raise your hand!)
That’s sometimes what it feels like. Who says stories aren’t real? I live in the land of the Midnight Sun and Polar Nights, together with my husband and daughter, and a cast of fantasy characters running around in my head. It’s busy here. Care to stay and chat a while?
Laura Maybrooke is an 80s’ child, who works too much and writes too little, but who’ll never say no to a thrilling romance, a high fantasy adventure, or a cookbook full of delicious treats she’d like to bake one day.
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