The Night Man Cometh ePUB
Limousin, France, 1249: In one night, Damien La Croix loses his life and his soul, as he willingly chooses Undeath rather than perish of the Plague. Once risen as a vampire, he takes his betrothed into the dark with him, but something goes wrong and Antoinette perishes. Now, Damien begins a solitary walk through the corridors of time searching for that one person to take his beloved’s place.
Through Mankind’s long centuries, many women and one man cross his path, respond to his enticements, and are forced to make the choice. None survive to becomes his companion in the darkness, and so many are lost, now even Damien begins to ask himself the question: Is there no one for me to love…in spite of what I am?
…for when the Night Man Cometh, Death is never far behind...
Sensuality rating: 3
Cover Art by Jinger Heaston
SEARCH TITLE FOR ALL FORMATS
May 21, 1249
Hail, Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with thee...Holy Mother, Pray for us now and at the time of our deaths...
Even as he muttered the prayer, Damian cursed himself as a hypocrite and a liar. The priests teach Man is a Sinner from his first breath, cursed by our Primal Parents and born into willful
disobedience against the Lord, and therefore should welcome death and its reward of heaven with open arms.
Damian suffered the double guilt of his disbelief and of keeping that doubt secret. To him, Death was the end, not the beginning, and he was sorely afraid he would be confronting that ending
very soon. It was a reasonable fear, he told himself. Everyone feared death, though some might accept it more readily than others. He tried to rationalize his terror…his life was too valuable; his death would leave the Domaine de la Croix without an heir, but that was a mere shading of the truth. Damian didn’t care who died as long as it wasn’t himself. As far as he was concerned, Heaven was a lie fed to ignorant peasants to hide a stark reality discovered only too late; that death was Oblivion...a fall into bottomless darkness with no resurrection in sight, a snuffing of breath, heartbeat, and thought. Damian didn’t want that oblivion, he wanted to continue his
existence...to be with his Antoinette...to live and love with her...not become food for some hungry worm waiting even now to grub in his grave. He was a child of his Time, pampered and spoiled, accustomed to getting what he wanted. And at this particular moment, what he wished most was to live to enjoy the woman he loved. Nevertheless, in this instance, what he desired was being cruelly withheld. This time, Damian wasn’t going to get his way. His traitorous mouth continued to pray as he’d been taught, spewing out words more and more desperate...
Sweet Jesu, don’t let us die...protect us from this scourge...I call upon St. Jude Libraeus, Saint of the Impossible, Patron of Desperate Situations, have mercy and bring about this miracle, I beg you...St Christopher, have mercy, I invoke your protection against this plague...Dear Lord, Holy Savior help me!
Desperation and panic mingled with unmanly tears, streaming down his clean-shaven cheeks.
St.Damian, Patron of Physicians and my namesake, steal the power from this plague, prevent it from infecting us so my Antoinette and I may survive...oh God, I don’t want to die...!
For over a year, the Great Mortality had been in France—a year and fifteen days, to be exact—and in Limousin less than a month. If ever a Scourge from God had been placed upon Mankind, this was it. Nevertheless, no one dared question. All accepted it as something deserved, for being human if for no other reason. Sinners condemned by the mere fact of their existence to suffer and die. And be swept away into nothingness.