Vampires Are Forever MobiPocket

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By Tony-Paul de Vissage

A hundred years before, the villagers of Balleywalegh drove the vampire preying on their womenfolk from their midst…and that should’ve been the end of it. But now, it’s 1929, and the monster’s back. Or is he?

Someone’s definitely occupying the abandoned manor house again. Karel Novotny has the same name as the former Undead resident but he’s much, much younger, and more up-to-date. He even drives a Stutz Bearcat! With his movie idol good-looks, the mysterious newcomer’s enthralled the local lasses, especially Seamus Flannery’s daughter Brigid, who’s never before been a pushover for a handsome face.

Seamus himself isn’t much for believing in vampires or any other creature of the night but he’s a little worried about the pale young man’s intentions where his daughter’s concerned. And when Brigid and several other village lasses become suddenly and unexplainably ill, he has to make a decision.

It’s time for Seamus to do a little digging into the history of that terrible night from Balleywalegh’s past and find out what really happened. When he does, he hopes it’ll answer the question: Is Karel Novotny the monster returned or not, and if so, what will the good men of Balleywalegh do this time?

Romance, Paranormal, Vampire

Sensuality rating: 2

Cover Art by Jinger Heaston

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Cover of Vampires Are Forever by Tony-Paul de Vissage
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Chapter 1

Maeve Flannery hummed softly as she leaned over the wood-burning stove. Briskly stirring the ingredients in the cast-iron stewpot, she sniffed appreciatively. Ahhh... and ain’t it a totally delicious aroma? Probably taste even better than it smells or my name’s not Maeve Margaret Donovan Flannery.

“How much longer, darlin’?” Husband Seamus pounded the tabletop, his meaty fist clamped around his spoon. “’Tis starvin’ I am, for that wonderful stew you’ve made.”

They were all seated around the table in the kitchen--Seamus; their eldest son, Sean; his brothers, Ossian, Padraig, and Liam, their daughter, Deirdre, and darling baby Denis in his highchair near his mother’s place at the end of the table.

“Be patient, luv.” Reaching for a pair of quilted potholders hanging on the wall, she wrapped them around the handles of the pot and lifted it off the stovetop, glancing casually out the window as she turned. “All things come to him what waits, y’know...”

The pot fell to the floor, spilling its contents and splashing scalding liquid onto Seamus’ leg--thankfully protected by the thick fustian of his trousers--and covering the surface of one hobnailed work boot. Generally, Maeve would be dismayed at the mess; today, she began to shriek hysterically, a little too much of a reaction as far as Seamus was concerned.

“Maeve, acushla, what is it?” Immediately he was on his feet, skirting the steaming mass of potatoes, onions and parsley staining the kitchen floor, “Sure, you’ve never been this clumsy before.”

When she didn’t answer but continued to scream, he caught her by the shoulders, giving her a rough shake. Sean had gotten up also, starting toward his mother, but when his father continued to shake her, he hesitated as if uncertain what to do. Though his father was quick to discipline his children, he’d never raised a hand in cruelty to anyone, especially not their Ma. The violence the boy now saw frightened him almost as much as did Maeve’s continuing screams.

Behind Sean, the other children looked at each other in panic and the baby, hearing his mother’s cries, began to shriek at the top of his lungs. For a moment, there was total chaos, Maeve’s and the child’s wailing in awful counter-point to each other.

With a strangled whimper, the mother quieted first. Pressing her face against the bosom of Seamus’ shirt, she began to sob, softer and more controlled this time while he stood there, helplessly patting her shoulder. At last, she managed to get enough breath to gasp, “Th’ manor house! There’s someone in th’ manor. I saw a light!”

“There’s someone at th’ manor?” Seamus’ expression changed to disbelief. “An’ that’s what all this caterwaulin’s about? Th’ place’s been empty for a century now. I imagine ’tis been sold, for taxes or somethin’, is all. An’ now th’ new owner’s come t’ claim th’ auld wreck. Probably some rich American who’ll be shippin’ it home, stone by stone. I hear they like to do things like that.”

 

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