Set in New York in the 1800s, where charming salons exist alongside dark alleyways, an exceptional independent young woman, Eleanor Blake, comes face-to-face with an enigmatic gentleman of magnetic charm, Adrian Velmont. The chemistry between the two is undeniable, and through secret meetings, their attraction blossoms. But Adrian is a vampire, haunted by centuries of solitude, and Eleanor comes from a lineage of vampire hunters. As love begins to bloom, Eleanor learns shocking secrets about herself and Adrian from her father, a ruthless hunter. Now, she must make the choice between the love she bears and the duty she must confront- an ever-growing threat marked by vampires, led by Isolde, and a family that considers Adrian a danger. In a dark swirl of battles and betrayals, Eleanor and Adrian fight against a fate that sets out to doom them. A passionate, mysterious love story where romance defies death.
View MoreIt felt as though time was slowing down with each second elongating like a drop of molasses in the freezing night air. With her assailants rusty blade drawing ever closer Eleanor felt her heart hammer in her chest a dull throb that echoed in her temples. She was unable to move or scream because she was so enthralled with the threat that she kept her gaze fixed on the jagged metal. The desperation in her mind to run fight or do something was met with resistance from her legs which were as heavy as lead. She was immobilized by a visceral unadulterated fear that led her back to her most basic instincts. In a self-defeating defensive reflex she briefly closed her eyes bracing herself for the worst—a searing pain a scream she wasnt sure she would be able to utter or maybe just darkness. Rather a quick almost unbelievable movement ripped through the tense air in the little square. A shadow darted out of the darkness with an unfathomable speed before the thief could lower his knife. Eleanor
It appeared as though an unseen cage had closed in on Eleanor in the little square where she had stopped. A warped shadow was cast across the shining cobblestones by the dried-up fountain in the middle with its eroded sculptures reduced to blurry shapes by the low light. It appeared as though the buildings around it their facades blackened by years of neglect and soot were leaning toward her their boarded-up windows suggesting eyes. Along with a subtle hint of decay that came from the gutters the air was heavy with the smell of damp stone and sea salt. Following the overwhelming feeling that she was being followed Eleanor lay still still attempting to quiet her racing heart. She wanted to convince herself that it was nothing that it was just a shadow a trick of the light or an unreasonable fear brought on by her fathers tales. However a few meters ahead of her a figure appeared out of a recess shattering the nights quiet like a thunderclap before she could continue walking. In additio
Eleanor picked up her pace her leather boots stomping on the wet cobbles with a passion she could no longer conceal not even from herself. The soot-blackened brick walls of the narrow alley she had chosen as a shortcut seemed to go on forever enclosing her like the walls of a tomb. Her nostrils were filled with the lingering odor of dampness and debris along with a subtle hint of salt from the adjacent docks. The echoes of the dilapidated buildings lining the passageway intensified the sound of every step in the cramped area. New York with its unadulterated energy and contradictions had always been her favorite city but tonight she saw it in a new way: as a maze of dangers and shadows waiting in the dark. The October wind which had been happy to nibble at her cheeks up until that point became increasingly persistent and began to whistle between the loose planks of the deserted warehouses. There were vague murmurs that accompanied it as though the night itself were working together to
With the sharp stench of coal smoke and dead leaves strewn across the cobblestones the October wind blew through the Bowerys windswept streets. In 1847 New York was a city of contrasts with the glare of gas lamps futilely trying to drive back the darkness of the empty alleys. With her thin fingers feeling for warmth in the tattered fabric twenty-year-old Eleanor Blake pulled her wool shawl tighter around her fragile shoulders. Despite everyones advice she chose to walk home alone after leaving a fun party at the Harpers a family of longtime friends. An internal conflict had caused her to decline her hostesss offer of a carriage ride home despite the pleasant evening being interspersed with light conversation and laughter around an unplaying piano. She desired to walk to experience the cool air on her face and to briefly escape the oppressive norms of her world. A little rain that had stopped moments earlier had made the cobblestones slick reflecting the flickering light of the oil lam
With the sharp stench of coal smoke and dead leaves strewn across the cobblestones the October wind blew through the Bowerys windswept streets. In 1847 New York was a city of contrasts with the glare of gas lamps futilely trying to drive back the darkness of the empty alleys. With her thin fingers feeling for warmth in the tattered fabric twenty-year-old Eleanor Blake pulled her wool shawl tighter around her fragile shoulders. Despite everyones advice she chose to walk home alone after leaving a fun party at the Harpers a family of longtime friends. An internal conflict had caused her to decline her hostesss offer of a carriage ride home despite the pleasant evening being interspersed with light conversation and laughter around an unplaying piano. She desired to walk to experience the cool air on her face and to briefly escape the oppressive norms of her world. A little rain that had stopped moments earlier had made the cobblestones slick reflecting the flickering light of the oil lam...
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