Title: The Summoner's Tale
Series: The
Order of the Black Swan #3
Author: Victoria
Danann
Genre: Paranormal
Romance
Publisher:
7th House
Format: Ebook
Length: 300
pages
Release Date: February 14th, 2013
Purchase: Amazon
|
Book Description:
Coming Valentines'
Day 2013
Book Three - The Summoner's Tale
Reading The Series In Order Highly
Recommended.
A secret society, a witch, a
psychic, vampires, modern day knights, heroes, elves, fae, assassins from
another dimension, and fairytales come together where emotions intersect. Two
souls, joined by a mystical bond, separated by distance, must simultaneously
struggle through pain and darkness in an ultimate confrontation with character
and an ultimate struggle for life proving that true love waits patiently
through lifetimes and finds courage to survive. Even in the strangest places.
Even when you're least expecting it. Even when you're far, far from home.
Excerpt:
CHAPTER ONE:
BLACK SWAN FIELD TRAINING MANUAL Section I: Chapter 1, #1
The plural of vampire is vampire.
When the rush of activity subsided, he
found himself alone with his own thoughts; a condition that was more than
familiar since he had spent hundreds of years that way. Without the distraction
of his friends' banter, since his proposed staff had left Edinburgh
He had never considered himself to be
impatient. Quite the contrary, everything he had ever pursued in earnest, from
painting to music to writing, had depended upon patience. But, his cognizance
of the enormity of the burden he had accepted had grown over the past months
and he had turned to brooding about the time that was passing.
Every day that nothing was accomplished
was a day when more people had their humanity taken from them, another day when
vampire remained imprisoned in bodies infected with the foulest disease
imaginable, and, also, another day when people died.
The project was moving painfully
slowly. Everyone who had originally been assigned to work with Baka was gone:
married, retired, whatever. Everyone except Heaven - who had turned out to be
anything but.
The large work space, intended for
several people, seemed deserted with him alone most of the time. He worked from
early in the morning till late at night, challenging both the hours in the day
and the fact that he was one excruciatingly short-handed task force leader.
When Heaven was present, her moods ran
the range of a shallow bell curve from disagreeable to surly to sullen. He
admitted that he had provoked her on their first meeting, for reasons that were
a mystery to him. Something about her instantly put him on edge and made him
feel anxious.
Even though that feeling persisted, he
had attempted to make amends so that they could work together amicably. To no
avail. She was prickly to the core, spurning every effort on his part to
develop a rudimentary standard of civility. She behaved as if simple courtesy
was more than she could manage which meant that "nice" was a goal way
too distant.
He not only had to work with a person
who detested his very presence, but, adding insult to injury, it seemed he
couldn't shake an inexplicably strong attraction to her. He found himself
staring at the curve of her cheek with her head bowed over work. Or the shine
of her chestnut hair when she walked through a ray of light. Or the way her
lips pursed whenever he gave her something to do. It was damned aggravating.
To make matters worse, he seemed to
have lost interest in pursuing other women.
At exactly fifteen after five she double checked her wristwatch,
closed an open folder, rose, pushed her arms into her sweater jacket, put her
purse on her shoulder and, like every other day, walked out of the office
without saying goodnight.
He perpetually struggled to concentrate
because the space seemed to vibrate with a low level, but annoying irritation
when she was there. It was stand to reason that he
would be glad to see her gather her things and go, but, in fact, he hated it
even more when she left. He heaved a big sigh. Fuck me.
Baka had been a person with a
well-developed sense of morality, and a well-functioning conscience before he
became a vampire. During the last hundred years of life as a vampire, having
survived long enough to blessedly recover his understanding of right and wrong,
he had voluntarily turned himself into The Order and served as
"consultant" voluntarily consuming only artificial sustenance.
No. He had never been short on
conscience. And that conscience was rubbing a hole in his brain telling him
that it would be wrong to simply sit at a desk and plan a strategy on paper
while, at the same time, doing nothing. So, keeping his own counsel,
for better or worse, he determined that he would continue to work as a
bureaucrat during the day, but would spend his nights - at least part of them -
looking for others he might help back to the light.
He had worked with Monq at Jefferson Unit labs to develop a
delivery solution. Taking a page from the methodology of the late Gautier
Nibelung, they had decided that the safest and most effective approach would be
dart gun. Each dart was outfitted with a tiny canister that would puncture on
impact releasing a formula that was part stun and part cure. The proper dose of
stun solution had been determined by tests on Baka himself. So he knew it
worked. First hand. Obviously vampire must be incapacitated while the viral
antidote works. As medicinal remedies go, it is fast working, but not instant.
There is a delay of two to four hours between introduction to the system and
complete reversal of the disease, depending upon the age and constitution of
the individual.
His plan wasn't perfect. It depended on
encountering one vampire at a time and extracting him, while paralyzed, without
engaging other vampire. Tricky, but the alternative was waiting for a task
force to be vetted, assembled, and trained. And waiting was the one thing he
couldn't manage. Maybe it wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done, but, hell,
he'd had a long life.
To
his advantage, he still had certain attributes that were extra human. Not like
comic book heroes. More like human plus. No one knew if these benefits would fade
away over time, but, for now, he was a little stronger, a little faster, and
could see in the dark a little better than most people. All traits very useful
for vampire hunting.
It just so happened that he found his assigned base of
operations in prime territory that qualified as a vampire magnet on all counts.
In Edinburgh Old Town
In a darkly poetic way, it was fitting
that vampire would thrive in Edinburgh Old Town
Modern day Ghost Tours offer a shallow
excursion - shallow because individuals don't want to stay in the underground
very long. Words like "creepy" are frequently used even by hard-core
insensitives. That leaves miles of maze for a vampire haven.
Baka had been a vampire long enough to
know all about how they think. He knew that the days of the Beltane festival
would be a gorge fest for vampire. The Royal Mile, just over the heads of
vampire living in the Underground, would be crowded with visitors to the city,
visitors intent on celebration and revelry, danger being the last thing on
their minds. It would be a blessing to vampire in the original sense of the
word which was bloodletting; when, as a rite of passage, young pagans would
stand in a pit under a grate where a bull was sacrificed and bathe in the blood
that fell.
So Baka finished his day, went to
dinner alone, and slowly savored every bite of his of actual food. Afterward,
driven by a heartfelt desire to do some good in the world, he pulled on a pair
of cargo pants and equipped the dozen pockets with two dart guns and as many
canisters as he could carry without being slowed down. He descended the stairs
to the main foyer wondering if, even partial redemption for a long life of
misdeeds, is possible. The fact that he was not accountable for that infamous
history should have given him some peace of absolution. But didn't. He said
good evening to the doorman and headed out into the night.
About the Author:
Though works of fiction are
a departure for me, I have had this series simmering on the back burner of my
mind for years, but time is at a premium. In addition to authoring and
illustrating Seasons of the Witch and writing course work for Seasons in
Avalon, I play Classic Rock music and manage Houston
This series will include
some of my education in the paranormal and fictionalized anecdotes from my
journals during the years when I was a practicing “metaphysician”, but most of
the material is fantasy – of course.
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