Author Spotlight! Mason Sabre - Death Awakening
Death Awakening: A Society Novella
They call it Moon-Night.
The night when the moon rises high in the sky, fully visible for all to see, is the time Humans venture outside in hopes of catching a glimpse of Others for their personal entertainment—shifters transformed, strange dark creatures, all answering the call of the moon.
Yvette is a vampire who works in a bar owned by a panther shifter called Raven. It is one of the few bars in their community in which Others and Humans can mingle. Restless shifters, blood lusting vampires, supercilious Humans … the night is filled with them.
But what happens when the doors close tonight? What long-buried evil awaits Yvette? A dark force will awaken—one that will change her life, and those of the people around her.
The night when the moon rises high in the sky, fully visible for all to see, is the time Humans venture outside in hopes of catching a glimpse of Others for their personal entertainment—shifters transformed, strange dark creatures, all answering the call of the moon.
Yvette is a vampire who works in a bar owned by a panther shifter called Raven. It is one of the few bars in their community in which Others and Humans can mingle. Restless shifters, blood lusting vampires, supercilious Humans … the night is filled with them.
But what happens when the doors close tonight? What long-buried evil awaits Yvette? A dark force will awaken—one that will change her life, and those of the people around her.
Forever.
Death Awakening
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Snippets for Death
Awakening
** Yvette gripped onto
the edge of the rubbish cart, panting, calming herself, hungering for the
delicious scent of fear-fuelled blood. It called to her, echoing through her
veins. A fucking delicacy ready for her to take. Blood pumped in her temples,
flushing her vision with crimson hunger, urging her forward to the frightened
girl. Time slowed down. The edge of the cart twisted in Yvette’s grip—the only
thing keeping the girl safe at that very moment. She bowed her head, resisting
the desire to drop to her knees and sink her fangs into the girl’s delectably
bleeding flesh. A guttural cry tore
from her. To take this girl’s life. To relish in the taste of her sweet blood.
To drink. To feel the life flowing into her.
One sip, that was all. One moment of sinking her teeth into that perfect
fine flesh...
Stop it. Stop it.
This was a delicacy that
she would not take. She wouldn’t.
She couldn’t….
** The
creature licked along her skin with a dry, bristly tongue, like sandpaper
across her skin. Yvette braced herself as she watched his lips curl back and
his fangs extend. With a hiss, he gripped her arm tightly and pierced her
flesh. Yvette gasped, the sharp pain from the bite quickly subsiding and
turning into a feeling of such exquisite ecstasy that Yvette’s eyes rolled back
in her head. Troy was the only vampire to have ever bitten Yvette after her maker.
Only he had shared blood in moments of intimacy. The bite, the giving of life,
it was something close to orgasmic between them. Yvette let her head fall back
in pleasure. So much power flowed through her veins, stealing her words, her
thoughts, and her entire sense of being from her. He could drain her right now,
and she wouldn’t fight it. She would die in his arms happy and content. Maybe
the Humans had, too, she thought
vaguely through a hazy bliss.
He drank from
her, long and deep, creating a wholeness inside her that she couldn’t
understand. Unable to keep her eyes open, she gave herself over to the ecstasy
that she had only ever experienced with her husband.
When he had
finished, he licked across the two small wounds and sealed them. Then, placing
a small kiss on her wrist, he let go of her arm. She tried to look at him, but
her mind was delirious and drunk on whatever he had done, her body weak. He
lowered her to the ground, leaning her against the cold stone that held his
coffin. “Thank you,” he said. His voice was thicker now, deeper words that
fitted a man much younger than the rotting corpse she had encountered. She
blinked long and hard, trying to focus herself. “You will heal in a moment.”
** The moon was a damn flashlight in the sky, not only illuminating
the way for forbidden travellers, who bravely trekked through the darkness, but
it also brought out the crazy ones—the Humans,
the wannabes. The place throbbed with them. Maggots oozing out of the woodwork
and dropping their shit on the newly polished floor. Yvette’s glare landed on
each of them in turn. Their pulses raced, pounding in time with the music,
calling to Yvette—sirens in the sea of people. A dangerous temptation that was
more trouble than it was worth. Her fangs pierced the inside of her bottom lip,
as she inhaled a calming breath.
Mistake … big mistake.
The scents of cheap
perfume, liquor, and the ever greedy Humans
swirled in the air—a lusty aroma of femininity pervaded the room. Girls ready
for boys, turned on by the fear of not just the darkness, but what the darkness
held. Yvette pulled a tray filled with glasses from the washer under the
counter and dumped it onto the bar, the glasses clanging against each other and
steam rolling into the air, hiding the idiots from her sight for a moment. It
was always this way when the moon was full. Humans
thinking it great to head out to bars and mingle with the Otherkind.
** Yvette had heard the stories about him.
But as she was learning, stories were not always true. The fact that he was
meant to be dead, yet stood before her right now, was a sure sign of how shit
got twisted. But still the tales of the man who had owned this house crept into
her mind. Most tales and myths started at truth somewhere. It was just a case
of understanding which parts of his story were real. It was said that years
ago, the man living here had started out poor. He had worked on the farmland
that connected to this house. One day, while Henry was out working in the
fields and his wife was tending to their home, she had let in two weary
travellers and fed them. They had paid her back by attacking and killing her.
It was said that Henry had come home to find his wife barely alive, half eaten
by shifters. She had died in his arms, his last promise to her being that he
would make them pay for what they had done.
She watched
him now and wondered if she could blame him. It was never so easy to judge what
one would do in times of such pain. What would she have done if she had come
home and found Troy dead? Would she have sought revenge? Everything inside her
screamed yes. That was why he had turned vampire. He had needed to be strong so
that he could hunt and kill the men who had murdered his wife. But the problem
was, or so it was said, that he didn’t stop there. The man—Henry—had gone mad.
He had waged war on all shifters, killing all he came across. Women, children,
it didn’t matter.
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