Elizabeth

Daisy-Jane Maxwell

Description

Elizabeth has passed through time, a witness to the great strengths and weaknesses of humanity. Trapped in an ageless body by her long-lost love, Elizabeth hides from the changing world in inconspicuous places, biding her time while she seeks the answer to the question that has burned within her since she was a girl: 'What is her purpose?' Little does she know that her world would soon be tipped upside down, her age-old question would be answered and a Guardian will rise through the darkness! Elizabeth is the first book in the series Blood-Rose Guardians. It is with Elizabeth Rose Smith that the journey, and indeed adventures, begins. Book 1 introduces the Guardians - a bloodline of warriors who, against all odds, will fight for the dominion of the Light.

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 29 novembre 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528962704
• Langue: English

Extrait

Elizabeth
Daisy-Jane Maxwell
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-11-29
Elizabeth About The Author Dedication Copyright Information © Prologue Chapter 1 Introductions Chapter 2 The Beginning of the End of an Era Chapter 3 Pierre Chapter 4 An Old Friend Chapter 5 Hunted Chapter 6 Decisions Chapter 7 Adam Chapter 8 Too Good to Be True Chapter 9 Back to Reality Chapter 10 Analysis Chapter 11 Revelations Chapter 12 Research Chapter 13 Nivette and Tristan Chapter 14 Face-Off Chapter 15 Evaluation Chapter 16 Sexual Healing Chapter 17 Talismans, Amulets and Procreation Chapter 18 Growing Curve Chapter 19 Happy Families Chapter 20 The Return Chapter 21 Secret Weapons Chapter 22 Battle Chapter 23 Spirit Guides Chapter 24 Samuel Chapter 25 Samuel and Nivette Chapter 26 Packing Chapter 27 Forever Yours Chapter 28 Bon Voyage Epilogue
About The Author
Daisy-Jane Maxwell is an Australian author currently residing in Tasmania. She is a teacher, gardener and, in her spare time, endeavours to write about the paranormal romance and science fiction genres. Daisy started writing in 2008, with the first book published in 2009. Since then, she continues to work on the Blood-Rose Guardians epic series and other independent works. One day, she would like to retire from teaching so that she has enough time to immerse herself completely in books, but that day has not yet come and so the balancing act of work and writing continues.
Dedication
For my son and ‘my’ other children, who inspire me
every day.
Copyright Information ©
Daisy-Jane Maxwell (2019)
The right of Daisy-Jane Maxwell to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528919494 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528962704 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Prologue
I thought I knew myself, knew who I was. I had certainly lived long enough to figure it out, but it wasn’t until the man who had taken my humanity came back into my life, that I discovered I was somebody completely different. His return forced me to discover myself, and in doing that, to find out who I was destined to be – and that person was somebody very different from the me I was accustomed to being.
My name is Beth. It’s short for Elizabeth. I am twenty-one years old. I have been twenty-one years old for five hundred and forty six years. For most of that time, I have lived in France. I have seen the world change. I have been part of that change. I have heard it said that “we live, we love and we learn”. I don’t know who said that, but it is fairly representative of my life. I have lived, I have loved and I have learned that to be safe, sometimes it is better to stay inconspicuous, especially when you were born to stand out.
There was nothing special about me a month ago. I didn’t stand out in a crowd. Long brown hair, green eyes, slim build… I look like a thousand other girls in Paris. A month ago I was invisible, but then he returned and tipped my world upside down.
Chapter 1

Introductions
His hand slid under my shirt. It moved from my hip up my side and settled in the centre of my back. It was warm; it felt more so because my skin was cooler than his. Several days without feeding had ensured that. I could feel the rough bark of the tree pressing against my shoulder blade as he pushed against me. He was strong, but I was stronger. He didn’t know that though, it was easier to attract a man if he thought he was stronger – and like it or not, like him or not, it was essential that I attracted this man.
His lips pressed against mine. They were salty, rough, hot…he was tantalising and seductive…boy, was he seductive. I wanted him…wanted to taste him. His lips moved to my neck, every touch made me tingle. It was a fire that sprang from his contact and radiated out and away and shimmered to my extremities, setting my nerves ablaze. His left hand settled on my throat, it squeezed gently.
“Are you frightened?” he whispered into my neck as he continued to nuzzle my ear.
“Should I be?” I asked, my voice husky.
“ Oui, ma chere ,” he replied. He was wrong. He didn’t know it, of course, how could he know that the very person he had hoped to trap – had, in fact, trapped him. She had been watching and waiting, stalking her prey like any predator would.
“ Au contraire, Monsieur ,” I countered his response, my tone resolute and without fear.
“ Pour quoi ?” He looked confused. At that moment, my hands came up from my side. He squeezed my throat harder. I smiled a broad, toothy smile. His eyes widened as they glimpsed my fangs, now fully distended and ready to bite. I pushed away from the tree, swapping positions with him. My body weight alone was not enough to keep him in position so I held him in place with one hand against his shoulder; strength of the centuries contained in my muscles. I brushed my lips against his.
“Relax, it won’t hurt…much. You actually might enjoy it.”
I nuzzled against his neck. It was warm, his pulse rapid. I could hear his heart beating – rising toward a crescendo as the adrenaline surged. I sank my teeth into the flesh of his neck, piercing tissue and tapping the artery beneath. The warm flow was immediate. Blood filled my mouth and ran down my throat to fill my stomach. It was salty, metallic and satisfying. As I drank, my body temperature increased. My skin warmed, his blood flowing through my body. His heartbeat slowed; the adrenaline rush was over. I had consumed perhaps a litre of blood. The average man had about eight litres circulating through his body. A vampire wouldn’t usually drink enough to kill a man by themselves. Even still, a litre was a lot for one feeding. I stopped and licked the blood from his wound and my lips. The saliva on my tongue helped the wound heal. I pulled an anti-bacterial face-wipe from my handbag and wiped down his neck. I could not afford to leave DNA evidence in this century. At other times it had not mattered, but now it could make the difference between a life of freedom and one incarcerated. I looked into his eyes; they were calm. He had a smile on his face. He was mellow.
The aftereffects of feeding were always the same for my prey. Memories of the event faded as endorphins from my vampire saliva mixed into the human victim’s bloodstream. This was combined with a numbing anaesthesia which made the entire blood-letting painless following the initial bite. All that remained was two small puncture marks where my canine teeth had ruptured the skin and the artery beneath it, and these were easily healed with a bit more saliva. My saliva contains diluted vampire DNA which reacts with human cells; it is not like mixing blood – that has other, more permanent, effects. But vampire saliva could act locally to regenerate small amounts of damaged tissue. It was not only handy, but essential when human prey was involved. Humans have long memories and are not very good at dealing with difference. It has taken them centuries to even tolerate the variety within their own race, let alone other races. Vampires are a different race from humans but we are part of the same species, we are all Homo sapiens ; evidently though, we are too different from the humans with whom we share the world.
Throughout history, humans have felt the need to attack and destroy individuals who appear different or even represent a different set of beliefs to the norm. Religious persecutions are a perfect example of this lack of tolerance between humans. The atrocities humans have inflicted upon vampires are just as great. Such heinous crimes due to differences have been documented since the beginning of writing. Modern writers call it genocide, but it has had many names and many justifications. Humans have a great potential for cruelty and as a result, vampires have learned to disappear by assimilating within human society. We look the same; we mostly act the same, but we have one outstanding difference: we need to drink human blood.
My favourite location to bite is the carotid artery in the neck. It is sensual, sexual and quick. The pressure of the artery forces the blood into your mouth. A litre can be consumed in a minute or two. All you have to do is swallow as the blood surges into your mouth with the pumping pulse of the heart. It’s not like lapping blood from a vein – that is slower and requires more effort. Arterial blood is sweeter; full of oxygen. Venal blood is more acidic. It’s like comparing oranges and lemons. I always preferred oranges.
“ Merci ,” I said as I let go of him. “Leave the gardens now. Go home. Have a shower. In the morning walk to the police and tell them you have been attacking women.”
“ Bien sur ,” he replied as he started to walk away. He would do exactly as I had asked – I knew without doubt that his particular reign of terror was at an end.
Post-feeding suggestion was a powerful weapon, particularly against the men I hunted. They were predators themselves. Not like me, not driven to feed for survival, but predators nonetheless. This one had been hunting women and raping them all over Paris. It had taken me a week to track him once reports had reached the media. It took one evening to bait him into following me to one of the remote pockets in Jardin du Luxembourg. He had followed me as I walked across the gardens.
Today, I first walked by him near the Senatorial palace. He ha