The Way of Escape
The Clara Robinson Series
Book One
Kristen Reed
Genre: Vampire/Horror
Christian Fiction
Date of Publication: May 1, 2016
ASIN: B01DQ1V314
Number of pages: Appx 255
Word Count: 67,196
Formats available: Kindle eBook
Cover Artist: Photo by Galyna Andrushko
Book Description:
When the leader of a vampire coven tells Clara Robinson that she's a dhampir, he gives her an impossible choice: Keep her mortality and live as a slave or become a vampire be free. A vampire visiting the coven complicates matters by revealing that she can liberate all of the slaves by parting with her humanity and becoming a vampire. This news forces Clara to examine her faith and decide if she should risk her eternal soul to save the humans or give up her freedom to serve by their side.
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/zfNA-vCEE24
Excerpt:
“Come in,” a
male voice called.
Lisette pushed
open the door and gestured for me to enter. I hesitantly tiptoed into the room
and jumped slightly much as the other woman had, my heart skipping a beat when
she shut the door behind me and left me alone with the two strange men who
occupied the large living area. The first man stood by the fireplace taking a
sip from a glass of red wine. Long black curls cascaded down his back and
nearly blended in with the expertly tailored tuxedo he wore just as his button
down shirt almost disappeared into the pale skin of his neck.
When the man set
the glass on the mantle, I finally got a good look at his surprisingly
youthful, heart-shaped face as he licked the wine from his Cupid’s bow lips.
After he finished savoring his wine, which he barely seemed old enough to
drink, he opened his blue eyes and fixed me with an inquisitive yet predatory
stare that made me shiver despite the heat coming from the lit fireplace. I
suddenly knew how a gazelle felt after capturing the unwanted attention of a cheetah
during a stroll across the savannah.
In an attempt to
evade his chilly gaze, I gave the second man a once over. He sat in a Queen
Anne-style chair that was just a shade whiter than his fair skin. Though his
green eyes were trained on me, his stare wasn’t as unsettling as his
companion’s had been. I thought that his wavy auburn hair was short until he
turned his head to glance at his phone and I saw that he’d just swept his locks
away from his face in a low ponytail. As I took in how the minimalist hairstyle
showed off his deep-set eyes, high cheekbones and square jawline, I realized
that I would have been attracted the man if I hadn’t been terrified of him.
While he didn’t
exude the same threatening aura as his slightly younger companion, I still felt
as if I was a fly that he could swat easily and remorselessly at any moment. I
hadn’t felt that powerless in over a decade, and I hated the feeling just as
much then as I had growing up.
“Bonjour,
Clara,” the raven-haired man greeted in a smooth French accent. “My name is
Emmanuel Géroux and this is my guest, Augustus Damiani.”
“Hello,” I
replied hesitantly.
“I’m sure you’re
wondering why I’ve brought you here,” he presumed. “Let me begin by apologizing
for the lackluster room you awakened in. I wasn’t quite sure what I should do
with you when you first arrived.”
“I’m more
concerned about what I’m doing in your house than the quality of the room I
woke up in,” I said carefully. “Why did you bring me here?”
Emmanuel walked
over to the wet bar nearby and poured himself another glass of wine as he
spoke, his friend’s eyes never leaving me as the conversation continued.
“My men found
you lying unconscious near the village of Manonette last night. Apparently a
fire broke out at the facility where you were staying, and you passed out after
the evacuation.”
When I struggled
to recall the events that transpired earlier that night, I vaguely remembered
smelling smoke and hearing an alarm blaring. The memory was so indistinct and
brief that I’d brushed it off as a dream, but that hazy memory was enough for
me to believe that Emmanuel was telling the truth about the fire at Gospel
Gateway. However, I should have awakened in a hospital and not on a private
island with two men who looked like they’d just gotten home from a night at the
opera.
“Is everyone
else alright?”
“Yes, no one at
the facility was injured in the fire.”
The relief
Emmanuel’s news brought gave me a brief respite from my suspicion. Alas, that
break didn’t last long.
“Not that I
don’t appreciate your help, but why didn’t your men take me to a hospital if I
was unconscious? I might have needed treatment for smoke inhalation or burns,”
I pressed on. “And who are you that you have people prowling around Gospel
Gateway and Manonette at night?”
“The sooner you tell her the whole truth, the
better,” Emmanuel’s Italian counterpart said.
My host nodded
and took another less leisurely swig to polish off his wine before giving me a
more fleshed out explanation.
“Well,
mademoiselle, I am the leader of the vampire coven that resides on this island.
I sent the men who found you to Haiti to bring more humans to the island to be
our servants. When they discovered you and a few of your missionary friends
near Manonette, they took you to fill my open positions,” Emmanuel explained
nonchalantly. “One of the first tasks my men complete with new humans is
pricking their fingers and tasting their blood to see if they are worthy of
being one of our personal attendants. However, when they tasted your blood,
they realized that there was more to you than meets the eye. Your blood had the
sweetness of life and the bitterness of death, which means that you are half
vampire — also known as a dhampir. Since you aren’t fully human, I wanted to
give you the opportunity to choose your fate. You can either live with your
fellow mortals and toil on my island for the rest of your days or enjoy the
luxury and privilege that comes with being a vampire.”
I gaped at
Emmanuel in stunned silence as I attempted to process his ridiculous
explanation. Although my first instinct should have been to laugh at him and
look for hidden cameras, something inside of me told me that he was telling the
absolute truth. While I’d never contemplated the existence of vampires and had
only seen them as fictional characters in books and movies, I’d spent enough
time in the Bible to know that demons and other nefarious creatures existed.
Jesus himself had even cast a legion of demons out of a man and into a herd of
two thousand pigs.
If people can be
possessed by demons, is the existence of vampires really that far off, I
wondered. Either this guy is telling the truth or he’s insane. I can’t decide
which one is worse.
“You’re being
awfully quiet, Clara,” Emmanuel remarked. “What are you thinking?”
“I need proof
that you’re telling the truth.”
“Then proof you
shall get,” he agreed with a smile as he set down his drink.
Emmanuel took a
step forward, but I backed away before he could reach me.
“Can you prove
it without coming any closer,” I revised.
“Of course.”
The Frenchman stood
his ground a few yards away and his blue eyes underwent a frightening
transformation. His pupils bled outward as if someone had dropped ink into his
eyes until I found myself gawking into two completely black orbs. Once that
change was complete, Emmanuel opened his mouth to show that his top canines had
extended into a pair of gleaming white fangs. He let out a feral hiss that sent
me sprinting for the door, which I quickly realized was locked. I tried to
force the door open, but the hair-raising tickle of his breath on my neck
paralyzed me as he placed a frigid hand on mine and removed it from the
doorknob.
“Don’t be
frightened,” he said in a tone that would have sounded reassuring if not for
his newly terrifying appearance. “If I truly wanted to hurt you, you would not
be standing here with your pretty neck untouched and your blood still in your
veins.”
About the Author:
Kristen Reed, a graduate of the University of Texas at Dallas, is an artist, filmmaker, and author from Dallas, Texas. As a Christian, her faith influences her writing and is the driving force in her life.
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