Descended from a cursed Roman soldier, primary school teacher, Laura Dantonville carries a rare genetic mutation that makes her a coveted prize to the secret community of vampires who reside in beautiful harbour city of Sydney. Her unique blood not only enables them to daywalk, but is also the key to ending a centuries-old curse.
As such she becomes the epicentre of a power struggle between two rival vampire factions who want to claim her. The oldest and most powerful of these is led by Alec Munro, whose position as leader, or Princeps, gives him sole claim to Laura.
Has she any other choice but to accept her destiny?
An excerpt from
Bloodgifted
I pushed open the heavy glass doors and stepped into the cool, dark recess. The scent of old polished wood rose from the rows of pews stretching the length of the nave. To my left, a well-worn stone-paved path led past them and through the length of the interior, while a shallow ramp on my right disappeared into a semi-concealed alcove ringed with high-backed wooden chairs.
Which way? If in doubt, follow the yellow-brick road, I thought. Turning left I followed the stone-path down the aisle. What on earth am I doing here? I asked myself. Meeting a vampire, came the daft answer.
‘He will find you’, my aunt had said. Right now, I didn’t know if I wanted to be found! The truth is, I was nervous and even a little afraid. Searching for an unnatural creature in a gothic building. How appropriate. All I need is for the cathedral organ to start playing creepy music!
At least I wasn’t totally alone. Here and there a few people milled around, even though most were outside grabbing that last minute Christmas bargain as shopping hours had been extended. It was only about nine p.m. In the balcony at the end of the nave a choir was rehearsing The Messiah. I’m sure they’d hear me scream if this Alexander Munro proved less benign than the impression my aunt gave. Why didn’t I bring Matt? I should have simply ignored her warning and dragged him along anyway, regardless of the bloody cricket.
I followed the stone-path to the back entrance, around the massive sandstone baptismal font and up the other side. Every now and then the Choir Master stopped the singers mid-note for a correction before continuing their rehearsal. Three Christmas trees, bedecked with massive gold bows, had been positioned on either side of the communion table, while an impressive green wreath hung from the edge of the elevated pulpit.
I realized that the stone path I’d been following led to the small chair-lined alcove I’d originally noticed on entering. It was separated from the aisle by an ornately carved wooden partition. And there, leaning nonchalantly against the narrow opening, arms crossed over his chest stood a tall, broad-shouldered impossibly good looking man, with hair the colour of a raven’s wing.
My feet stopped mid-stride as my eyes drank in this strikingly imposing figure who so dominated the space around him, that I wondered how I could not have seen him earlier? Nor the way his piercing lavender eyes gazed back at me, demanding my attention.
I sucked in a breath, not just for the affect he had on me, but that he was the visual confirmation of my aunt’s words even if he didn’t fit my image of a vampire. But then I really didn’t know what to expect - black cape, nasty protruding fangs, glowing red eyes and as pale as death perhaps? The man before me belied those preconceptions, and no vampire I saw in the movies ever looked that good in cream silk business shirt and slate grey trousers which hung low on his lean hips. His sleeves were rolled up at the elbows and the top button of his shirt left undone allowing his tie to hang loose.
I swallowed. Was this the blood-sucking creature whose bite left those marks on my aunt’s wrist? No wonder she’d said I wouldn’t mind.
He smiled and softly called my name. ‘Laura.’
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Author Bio
My name is Tima Maria Lacoba and my background is in archaeology and Ancient Roman History, especially Roman Britain. I was a practicing archaeologist for many years before taking up high school teaching. It gave me the opportunity to take my students on overseas excursions to visit the amazing archaeological sites they've only seen in books.
One day, I surrendered to the itch of writing. After many years reading and correcting my students' creative writing tasks and essays, I decided it was time to write my own. I couldn't hold it in any longer.