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eBook Category: Erotica/Dark Fantasy
eBook Description: While investigating a string of serial murders, Aiden Blackmore crosses paths with, Daniella Rolfe, a vampire of The First. She begins to experience emotions she hasn't felt in seven centuries. In turn, she awakens desires that Aiden has only dreamed about. Can Daniella sacrifice everything she's vowed to uphold for so many centuries for the love of a mere human man? Rating: carnal

eBook Publisher: New Concepts Publishing, Published: 2007
Fictionwise Release Date: January 2008

5 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [611 KB], eReader (PDB) [215 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [204 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [180 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [215 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [231 KB], hiebook (KML) [450 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [259 KB], iSilo (PDB) [169 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [210 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [261 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [273 KB]
Words: 60718
Reading time: 173-242 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 978-1-60394-107-5

The Twenty First day of August, in the year Two Thousand and Seven:

It is not every day you will read such words. I write upon this parchment not in an effort to advocate who or what I am, for your opinion means little to me. I mean no disrespect by these words, but there are veils in this world that carefully conceal creatures such as I. Know this--it is not for fame that I compose these pages, for there are enough stories transcribing my kind. The many volumes filled with fairy-like tales and the various renditions of movies that reveal us as beautiful do nothing for the truth of the matter, though it does provide you humans with amusement. No, vanity is not the reason I sit here and write, as you will soon find out.

My hope is to make you understand why I have undertaken this arduous task of creating such a diary. I shall try, to the best of my ability, to enlighten those who are brave enough to learn ... and those curious enough to read on.

But I believe proper introduction is in order, and I do apologize for my apparent rudeness. My name is Daniella Rolfe, and I am the last of The First.

In this modern day world where I dwell in mixed harmony with you humans, I find myself holding fast to luxuries of old. I have not put away things such as candles and delicate quill pens. My penchant for antiquated furniture holds no bounds. I live like a chameleon, maneuvering myself from era to era, striving to be as normal as possible amongst you blood-filled through these ever-changing times. Do not ask me my age, for such inconsequential details are unimportant to me, and I lost count centuries ago.

I will confess that I have been hunted, glorified, scorned and even revered as a goddess. Although I do not deny my heretic lineage, I ask that you not judge me until you finish reading these words.

The year was 1304 when I emerged from the womb of a human mother, yet I am not mortal. I did not suckle milk from her breast like other infants, but rather my hunger was quelled by the drawing of her blood. A swaddling babe born a blood drinker was not a common occurrence. As your history books correctly depict, abominations such as I were sacrificed without thought or guilt. It is the nature of all beasts, is it not? Destroy that which you do not understand? But for the love of a maternal mother, I survived those dark, medieval times, kept hidden from prying eyes and random witch hunts of evil. My mother's demise occurred in the year 1312, when I was still only a child, not yet knowing that the transference of my blood could have kept her by my side today.

I have learned much through these vast centuries, though I had no mentor to guide me in the ways of vampiric survival. I was alone, suffering like a feral dog, but I survived nonetheless. My insatiable hunger for blood enabled me to grow from a child to a woman more quickly than normal. The genetics of my unknown father grew stronger in me with each adolescent year that passed, to become what I am now. Strange thought it was, when I entered adulthood, my feeding patterns altered.

I remember well the serfs huddled in their fear, grasping vials of holy water against their beating blood-filled hearts. They surrounded themselves with crosses of deities that never affected me. Humans have relentlessly tried to deny my existence but yet, the blinding terror I sense in their souls before I feed tells me otherwise. They know me even before my elongated teeth sink into their warm, supple skin.

Today, I am what humanity shuns as reality. This modern era has epitomized me as a seductress blood drinker and every movie and book depicts me as beautiful and dangerous, and to some extent, I will not deny that I fit into that category, though I admit this rather modestly. I dress the part of a wealthy businesswoman as I have acquired much wealth since my birth. I lack for no luxury. My skin is pale, but with the aid of modern day cosmetics, its translucency is easily concealed. My hair, I am told, is the crowning glory of my beauty. Dark as midnight, glints of gold glow within its thick tresses, trailing down to the middle of my slender back. Many women have attempted to imitate what I look like and I cannot help but wonder why. I do not care for such trivial things.

Although you know me as a huntress, I kill only to survive. I take the wicked of hearts--men and women deemed evil in your eyes, and mine. Then there is my blood cycle, of which I will not elaborate further, for you will find this out later.

In all the years I have lived, I find myself greatly amused by this 21st century. Debauchery, greed, and gluttony have become a standard way of life, although its discretion has changed drastically since my first mewling cry. Creatures such as I were hunted like rabid animals. Today, humans kill as indiscriminately as any blood drinker past or present. And you humans proclaim I am the monster?

I am untouched by life, or death. My skin, unless I've recently fed, is quite pale, and as I mentioned, such imperfections are easily disguised. There is one thing, however, that your storybooks and myths do not reveal about The First. My blood is warm and it flows through my body similar to yours. Although my heart does not beat, nor do I breathe, this warm, coppery substance keeps me alive, needing replenishment once a month, much like a human needs a blood transfusion. I am unlike my vampire kin, who must feed every night.

I walk anonymously among you humans. Yes, you are fodder for my thirst, but I am something you have not yet learned.

I must make the distinction here that in this modern world, evil takes many guises under one form of authority or another. I have become but a small player in this vast world of cruelty. True, there are some who still denounce and curse the soil upon which I walk, but there are others who seek me out, begging for the gift that I will never share. To think it a gift appalls me to the point of utter disgust. I've known for centuries that it is nothing but a curse and that I alone must bear it. Although I have sought no others like me, I know I am not alone--but I am the last of my kind.

In accordance with any theory of evolution, the mixing of pure First blood with human genealogy brought forth diverse characteristics that have changed both my species, as well as humankind. The crossover from vampiric to human was inevitable and I place the blame upon Adam and Lilthe, his first wife.

As single celled organisms inevitably evolve, so too does the food chain. My species evolved by the sharing of blood with humans. I must point out that vampires per se are not born. They are created blood drinkers. They come into existence through a bite and the transference of vampire blood.

"The First', such as myself, are born blood drinkers. How or why is a mystery, for I have known no other like me. The vampires, my kith, are twisted replicas of what I am. Their created vampiric form inevitably came from a First, but laws of evolution strained the bloodline, creating those that cannot walk beneath the heat of a sun, or digest a sip of a well aged wine. Who created them, I do not know. Both I and the vampire species moved swiftly up the food chain, standing where we are today ... at its very peak. There is no other mammal stronger than I. Moreover, I boast not at all about this fact, for you must remember that I, unlike a mere vampire, am warm blooded, similar to yourself. Although my body temperature remains at ninety-four degrees, that is until the beginning of my blood cycle, I am more human than vampire.

The purest blood fills my veins, gleaned from The First who bedded my mother. I feign ignorance at the creation of such atrocities as the vampire, for I have never interlaced my blood with human. I take great pride in that knowledge. I am a virgin of The First and I vow I will remain so until death claims me. But alas, it is why I write this confession of sorts, for I do not know how long I can adhere to this solemn promise I have never broken.

A human man is the reason I sit and write these words. His spell surrounds me in a web that I cannot escape--nor do I wish to.

It all began when Aidan Blackmore, a police officer, attended my domain to investigate a break-in that I and a number of other tenants in my building suffered. Tall and broad of shoulder, he proved professional in every aspect. His casual shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, revealed dark, chocolate hair curling at the hollow of his throat. Yes, I confess, necks fascinate me at the best of times. He moved like a Nile panther, and I found myself watching him, enthralled as this human conducted the necessary tasks needed to investigate such a trivial crime. To me, I did not care what was stolen, for I planned to hunt down the thieves and drink my fill of those who dared defile my holy domain. To my surprise, this human, Aidan, revealed concern over my well-being, and the loss of belongings that held menial value to me. I find such kindness in humans rare in this modern age.

Aidan's ice-green eyes seared through my soul. I always held fast to the power I possess to entice and bend reality around me. Imagine my shock when it was he who ignited such a spell first.

You should know that I never dream. My sleep is dark and empty like the night that surrounds me. It provides rest and sustenance to a soulless body and that is all. So, when Aidan's face came to me in the ebony gloom of my cold, solitary slumber, I was shocked, for I thought perhaps I had, at last, ended my immortal life. Now his face haunts my days, as well as nights. He is never far from my mind, for I want him here ... beside me ... forever.