Gailene's Vow
by
Stuart Land
Blurb:
DESTINY
IS IN THE BLOOD
GAILENE’S VOW is the delicious, but tormenting tale of two women as they become vampires. Gailene must rise from devastation, rage, and vengeance in 1790s rural England, leaving her human family to become a powerful vampire matriarch in fledgling America. Two centuries later, college coed, Zondra, discovers she’s the leader of her grandmother’s empire when she begins turning, though never bitten. Gailene’s story unfolds to Zondra through their familial blood, revealing the tragic destiny, but poignant love both women have for Jeremiah. He lives in anguish while preparing Zondra to protect her new family against the retribution of Gailene’s creator.
GAILENE’S VOW is the delicious, but tormenting tale of two women as they become vampires. Gailene must rise from devastation, rage, and vengeance in 1790s rural England, leaving her human family to become a powerful vampire matriarch in fledgling America. Two centuries later, college coed, Zondra, discovers she’s the leader of her grandmother’s empire when she begins turning, though never bitten. Gailene’s story unfolds to Zondra through their familial blood, revealing the tragic destiny, but poignant love both women have for Jeremiah. He lives in anguish while preparing Zondra to protect her new family against the retribution of Gailene’s creator.
Excerpt:
Washington
D.C.–present
My scream choked off as if frozen in the air along with the white puffs of my breath. Terror forced my ice skates out across the frozen pond, blood pounding in my ears with each thrust of my legs. When I chanced a glance back, he was impossibly gone from the wide-open ice. The Washington Monument, sleek and barren of emotion, loomed ominously above the trees in the distant grey dusk. Despair engulfed me as I jerked my eyes forward, flooding my mind with prayers that went immediately unanswered: his horrid, insipid gaze was just inches from my face.
He glided backwards on the ice as fast as I skated forward, though he wore no skates and his body showed no motion. His voice entered my mind: I’m going to taste you, Zondra. I tried desperately to stop, but slid into his outstretched arms and legs that wrapped about me like a lover, drawing me to him. I arched away, pushing against his chest as he bent toward my neck, mouth opening horridly wide as slender fangs seemed to materialize with a sound as soft as a breath.
His pallid face passed my vision when his cold hand angled my head to the sideand that’s when I saw him, just a blur of color, nothing really to focus on. In an instant, he was across the pond and upon us. The one who held me yelped, almost bird-like, when something snapped by my ear. Cold viscous liquid blasted the side of my face, my eyesthen the ice broke.
As I slid into the black water, I saw two others, lips curled back, talon-like teeth bared, collide with the one who had come to aid me. For that frozen moment his face turned toward me and I knew what should be unknowable: that I was, and always had been, his.
My scream choked off as if frozen in the air along with the white puffs of my breath. Terror forced my ice skates out across the frozen pond, blood pounding in my ears with each thrust of my legs. When I chanced a glance back, he was impossibly gone from the wide-open ice. The Washington Monument, sleek and barren of emotion, loomed ominously above the trees in the distant grey dusk. Despair engulfed me as I jerked my eyes forward, flooding my mind with prayers that went immediately unanswered: his horrid, insipid gaze was just inches from my face.
He glided backwards on the ice as fast as I skated forward, though he wore no skates and his body showed no motion. His voice entered my mind: I’m going to taste you, Zondra. I tried desperately to stop, but slid into his outstretched arms and legs that wrapped about me like a lover, drawing me to him. I arched away, pushing against his chest as he bent toward my neck, mouth opening horridly wide as slender fangs seemed to materialize with a sound as soft as a breath.
His pallid face passed my vision when his cold hand angled my head to the sideand that’s when I saw him, just a blur of color, nothing really to focus on. In an instant, he was across the pond and upon us. The one who held me yelped, almost bird-like, when something snapped by my ear. Cold viscous liquid blasted the side of my face, my eyesthen the ice broke.
As I slid into the black water, I saw two others, lips curled back, talon-like teeth bared, collide with the one who had come to aid me. For that frozen moment his face turned toward me and I knew what should be unknowable: that I was, and always had been, his.
About the Author: Stuart is a novelist, screenwriter, and
sculptor. His story ideas come from his vivid
imagination, but his inspiration draws from extensive world travel and
fascinating careers: from US
military medic to hairstylist, then Washington D.C. Police officer to NYC
photographer.
Later, Stuart converted a chicken coop in
the woods into a live-in studio and taught himself metal sculpture. That
rudimentary craft expanded into the fine arts. Sculptures in bronze and
fiberglass led to shows in the US,
England and Thailand.My passion for all arts segued into: costume design (top 100 designers in the book, Fashion: 2001); modeling agency art director; fashion show designer; water feature designer, computer illustrator, and a top sculptor for special effects, sets and props in the entertainment industry with work in over thirty major films, hotels and theme parks worldwide.
During Stuart’s film career, he learned screenwriting firsthand by pestering the many actors, directors, and producers whose films he worked on, as well as attending many writing and directing workshops. To explore character and environment more, he took up narrative fiction. Stuart Land has published 8 novels, and written 18 screenplays.
He continues on the journey.
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Blog: http://bit.ly/1bs4PG9
Fan page: http://on.fb.me/19JQBkC
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Twitter: http://bit.ly/1ahtX5V
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/18YBfJA
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Tour Stop Schedule:
Coming soon....
Coming soon....
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