Death In The Blood PDF
…Mankind admitted vampires exist?
…Vampires followed Man into the stars, inhabiting every planet in the galaxy?
…They solved the “Vampire Problem” by putting the Undead in concentrations camps?
What would happen if someone decided to destroy the imprisoned nosferatu?
Would the police investigate?
Forced to assist Lieutenant Katherine Dalia in the case, vampire Christopher Landless fights desire and thirst to uncover a motive of long-lingering revenge as both vampire and mortal
discover old crimes never go unpunished.
Sensuality rating: 3
Cover Art by Bev Haynes
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Some things happen by chance.Because of that, one often has the ability to reject or accept.Other times, there’s no choice to be made.The night Kit Landless attempted to rob Honoria Neville was a momentous one, for it marked the ending of his life, as well as its beginning.
Forever afterward, when looking back through the corridor of centuries, he would call it the worst mistake he ever made, while ambiguously the best, since it lost him his soul while gaining him immortality. At the time, however, he had no idea what was going to happen, and so was unprepared when it did.
When it came right down to it, however, Kit really wasn’t given any leeway in the matter. He simply was offered a choice and he made the best of the deal by taking it.
In the Year of Our Lord, 1794, Christopher Landless was a minority within a minority. He was a criminal within the lower ranks of those of the law-breaking trade…a robber, to be more precise.Twenty-first century lawmen would’ve called him a mugger. The thieftakers of his own time labeled him a footpad, a highwayman who traveled on foot.
That was the way Kit carried out his transactions and the reason for his preference was simple. He didn’t trust horses, never had, never would. He didn't like anything able to move under its own power.When an object or creature was capable of self-movement, there was always a chance it could become unmanageable.Therefore he preferred taking himself under his own power wherever he had to go.
He was very successful in his chosen profession, having had a price on his head for ten of his twenty-six years and an inevitable future as a gallows-bird longer than that.Presently, however, Kit was as close to his appointment with the scaffold at Newgate as he would ever be.
Being very particular about who he robbed, and where, was why he’d survived so long. If he hadn’t owed a large gambling debt to a certain gentleman who played cards in the backroom of The Bell and Coachman, a disreputable little tavern on the wrong side of the Bridge, he wouldn’t even have given the lone woman a second glance. As it was, pickings had been slim for a fortnight, and the gentleman was getting impatient for Kit to honor his markers. He’d begun threatening to send certain others who definitely were not gentlemen to take the owed amount out of his hide if he didn’t.
That was why he was reluctantly lurking in a darkened alley off a little side street at the edge of town, face hidden behind a kerchief, with the night mist clinging to his hair and its damp seeping into his bones.His cambric shirt and black broadcloth waistcoat were cold and clammy on his skin, moisture beading on his boots, and occasionally, he had to move about to stifle a shiver.
When the woman appeared in the fog-closed street, he was more than ready to pounce.