For what was foretold centuries ago had finally come to pass, and with it came a most profound storm.
Ever since Octavia Vail’s mysterious arrival upon this Earth, she’s held no memory of how she came to be. Octavia had a virtuous life, but at times felt a familiarity with the obscure. Within her, lives a great force that could not be ignored, and it has led her to the one named – Victor Logan Marcehtte.
Centuries old, Victor Logan Marchette has lived a life of influence. He, being a man of culture and prestige, holds a dark past. He was once a savage vampire but over time, has sworn his allegiance to their governing Cabalistis. There was nothing he longed for until the day Octavia entered his world.
When Victor and Octavia’s worlds collided, such a compelling love is born.
About the Book
Born of Sin
by Deanna Richmond
Born of Sin Book One
Gothic Paranormal Romance
June 13, 2018
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Victor handed Brayden the notice as they were headed back to the castle via the tunnel late one evening. It led from the basement level of the hospital to the far west gate. Few knew of this passageway. It was a necessity in case an ill vampire required shelter from the sun. The bright star limited their power and weakened them, so minimal exposure to the sun was a necessity. Although a healthy vampire could survive in the daylight for hours, the less contact, the better. Understandably, most vampires preferred the dark. The moon was their vitality. Like the sun’s rays were to humans, the crescent was to them, and not just werewolves as most would think.
“They will kill her, Victor,” Brayden said, crumpling up the paper in his palm.
“I don’t think so. If they were going to kill her, they would have done so already and not bothered to forewarn me with a letter.”
“True. The Cabalistis worrying about you not cooperating if they harmed her is most absurd. They worry about little and care for even less,” Brayden added as they reached the back gate of the château. Brayden held out a hand to stop Victor. He stepped forward as his eyes narrowed, searching the gloom.
Brayden could smell the threat already, but Victor had to wait for it. Though he was more powerful, his senses did not match an older vampire’s like Brayden. They stood in the back garden of the castle, allowing the intruder to come to them. Victor sniffed the air when the stench of the creature wafted past his nares. “Come out!” Victor shouted to the uninvited guest.
Out walked a vampire familiar to Brayden. He was, as far as vampires go, unattractive. His face held permanent acid burns from being tortured. The scars had never healed properly because his tormentor had repeatedly burned his skin to get information. He’d never caved. He had been built to withstand massive abuse and was known for his detached state. He was the stoniest creature Brayden had ever run across. “Suus ‘nimium diu, Brayden,” the vampire said in a thick Russian accent.
“Not long enough, Razvan,” Brayden replied, not too pleased with seeing the man with whom he had a long and unpleasant history. “So, I see the Cabalistis sent their best to do their dirty work. Why isn’t she dead? You always complete a job.”
Razvan gazed towards Victor. “I’m not here for the girl. I’m here to bring Victor back.” His upper lip snarled in revulsion toward Victor.
“Tell them under no circumstance will I return to Romania unless it is my desire to do so. If they want me, then they can come to me themselves.” Brayden shut his lids at what Victor had said. Victor was on good terms with the Cabalistis, as well as one can be with them. But no one tells them no. Ever.
Razvan’s scarred lips turned up at their corners. “I was so hoping you would say that.” He pulled out a gun. It was not a typical pistol; its bullets were laced with the blood of a dead man. It would surely kill a newly risen vampire, but it would only render Victor debilitated long enough to arrive in Romania.
In response to the imminent threat, Victor’s body showed his true nature. The veins on his face bulged in direct correlation with his increased heart rate. His fangs lengthened and his fingernails grew. “You will have to take me by force.” There was no way he was leaving Octavia alone to be tortured. He could never leave her unprotected and vulnerable. He suddenly realized it was essential to place a guard around Octavia to keep her safe at all times.
“And here I thought you’d lost the fight in you, Barbarian. So, you haven’t grown soft after all.” Razvan released a deep snarl as his appearance matched his opponent’s. Victor was taken aback by that statement, but not Brayden. Never before, had Victor heard that term ‘Barbarian’ in reference to himself. Victor glanced over at Brayden, but he did not face him in return. Instinctively, he knew this was another piece of the puzzle to his missing first two hundred years.
Razvan aimed the gun at Victor, but Brayden dove at the man, taking them into the shrubbery. The gun misfired, shooting into the air, just missing Victor. Brayden slammed Razvan’s head into a tree branch, then against the cement. Razvan tossed Brayden into the air like he weighed not an ounce, but Brayden bounced against the gate and landed unharmed.
The fight was savagely brutal, as were most vampire fights. They were never really meant to let off steam or simply make a point. They were meant to kill. Even in this day and age of civility, while the conqueror walked away injured, the underdog no longer would hold life.
Victor watched as Brayden did his duty in protecting him, but this time, he wanted to partake. There was no doubt, he was a skilled fighter, but that was not his role — a position Victor was slowly starting to despise. He became furious that he was not the one immersed in combat. He had brought down the wrath of the Cabalistis, and he felt a scorching need to stand up for himself.
Victor watched heatedly, as his tongue slid across his sharp fangs and his claws dug deeply into his palms, furious that he had been removed from the equation.
Victor had had enough; he grasped the hair of the man who, unfortunately for him, only faced Brayden, and plunged his daggered fangs deeply into Razvan’s throat. The warm liquid rushed into Victor’s mouth, up his fangs and down his throat. He savored the delectable flavor of the ones Razvan had tasted not long before arriving.
Victor gripped the man’s ribs so tightly, he crushed them when the man tried to free himself. Victor’s clutch was merciless. He cared not that this being was alive, that it was his kin, nor that he was killing him. Victor lived in this instant and treasured it as the delicate liquid slithered out of his mouth, onto his chin.
Initially, Brayden let go of the man, until he realized that Victor was not just feeding, but killing him. He grabbed hold of both Victor and Razvan to pry them apart, but Victor shoved Brayden away with such force he flew back. Victor’s transparent blues shot him a cautionary threat to stay away. Brayden had seen that look before. It was the part of Victor that Brayden had thought he’d eradicated so long ago. Now he knew that Victor had only suppressed it.
When the man no longer struggled, Brayden rose, but stayed clear, shaken by his friends recently rediscovered barbaric behavior. Victor’s incisors dug in even further, virtually removing his victim’s head; his bite was vicious. Brayden watched as Victor shook Razvan violently, taking away his power by way of his blood. It was disturbing to see Victor behave this way. He was no longer the polished Victor everybody knew, but the man he had once been, Nikolai Von Mort—the Barbarian.
Once the man no longer held life, Victor dropped him to the ground and stood over him, beyond repentance. The feeding had been glorious. Hedonistic. It had been more than two centuries since he’d allowed himself the gore of a fresh kill, instead pretending to dignify his instincts with a glass. Now, drunk off of the nourishment and resultant surge of power, he stepped away, using the back of his cuff to wipe the fresh gore away. It smeared across his face and previously clean blue and white shirt.
“What?” Victor barked, falling against the bench in an attempt to remain upright. His mouth formed into a crooked leer from the power surge. Victor’s stare was menacing. The carnage of a fresh kill was exceedingly exhilarating.
“What the hell has gotten into you, Victor?” Braydon roared, pointing to the dead body.
Victor only looked at him sideways, his hues aglow, a death stare. “Isn’t this what a Barbarian does?” His piercing glower sent chills down Brayden’s spine. Brayden was a man who had seen it all, a man who was shocked by nothing. Victor walked off towards the castle without an ounce of guilt.
Tour Wide Giveaway
To celebrate the release of BORN OF SIN by Deanna Richmond, we’re giving away a $25 Amazon gift card and ten ebook copies of the book!
GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS: Open to internationally. One winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card and ten winners will each receive an ebook copy of the book. This giveaway is administered by Pure Textuality PR on behalf of Deanna Richmond (Dormaine G). Giveaway ends 7/22/2018 @ 11:59pm EST. Limit one entry per reader. Duplicates will be deleted. CLICK HERE TO ENTER!
About Deanna Richmond
DEANNA RICHMOND was born in Long Island, New York where she lived most of her life but now resides in Colorado. As a young child, she spent many Saturdays in the library nurturing her love for books.
Deanna attended New York Institute of Technology nursing program. There, she received a Bachelors in Nursing of Science. She also has an Associates in Math & Science and is certified in Forensic Nursing. After many years of working in hospitals and travel nursing, she took time off from work to pursue a career in writing. She also writes under the pen name of Dormaine G.