Showing posts with label Dracula. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dracula. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

NEW NOVEL Underway! Warning ~ it contains vampires with demonic origins (insert evil chuckle) :)

 

TIME TO WORK ON A NEW NOVEL!!
My two series are complete... now I am working on a standalone, still in the vampire/paranormal vein.
Here's a sample chapter for folks fond of vampire tales.
Warning, it contains demons.
Working title: THE INDWELLING OF TORI BLESSING:
"What if your family line involves vampiric demon possession, and when it's your time to allow it... you don't want to give up your life to their control? Raised from birth in the modern world knowing she would marry her deceased father's successor... what her guardian held back was the truth of it-- when she marries, she is expected to hand over her body to the demons waiting to indwell her. For Tori, this does not seem an option!"
(Y/A Paranormal Fantasy, Demons, Vampires, Language, violence, sexual situations, adult themes, alcohol and/or drug use)
SAMPLE CHAPTER
The screeches were much worse than the screams, and tonight, her husband’s voice carried ear-splitting elements of both. Michele covered her ears and jogged down the hall. When she reached her bedroom, she double-locked the door and collapsed onto her bed. Another loud staccato shout filtered upward from the basement and hugging herself tightly, she curled into a ball.
“Please, please, please don’t let him come up here. Please!” Michele prayed the same words a few more times before wondering to whom she was speaking. God? If so, which one? There were so many, how could she know which to turn to at what times?
A loud crash sounded from beneath her room; splintering wood and breaking glass—Cedric was in the laboratory; the place he ran his experiments, the ones she wasn’t permitted to witness. What he did on the slab in that cold place she didn’t know, but the shrieks of despair he caused were human and predominately female.
Still… he was good to her.
The real Cedric was always good to his beloved wife.
Footsteps in the hallway reached her ears. Cedric’s steel-toed work boots, caked with soil from the surrounding moors, made that sound when he came to her at night. Just as often, it was them. Many nights, they propelled her husband to her end of the giant house. Uncertain which it was, Michele opened her eyes and leapt to her window. It was nearly dawn—that fact sometimes kept him downstairs, for Cedric was cursed and unable to walk in the sun.
“MEEE-SHHH-ELLLL!”
The elongated three-syllable version of her name sent goose-pimples across her flesh. Only Ki’tarit called her that—Mi-sha’el—and of the seven spirits that tormented and possessed her husband, he was the most foul. Michele jerked her gaze to the north horizon fifty miles away, where the mountains towered over neighboring Slovakia. Her east-facing windows had been painted over and sealed, for what purpose, she never knew. Whatever the reason, it mattered little at the moment; Ki’tarit summoned and the sky was still more purple than pink.
“MEEE-SHHHH-ELLLL!” he bellowed, much too close now. Michele jumped at the sound and pressed her hands to her ears. He’d have to come get her. She learned a long time ago that when one of Cedric’s Indwellers spoke her name, it was better to run and hide. Each of them longed to destroy her and only Cedric’s incredible love restrained them from doing so. Michele shivered, and prayed to the unknown God once more.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Michele screamed and her hands clutched the familial amulet Cedric had given her to wear. It gave her little comfort now that Ki’tarit was at the door. Would he be able to open it?
“YOU WILL OPEN THIS DOOR, YOU SELFISH WHORE!” the voice bellowed and Michele cringed backward until her rear was against the wide edge of the protruding windowsill. Fingering the soaring eagle design on her necklace, she scooted onto the sill and looked to the landscaped lawn outside. It was dark, but she was on the first floor, the drop only fifteen feet.
“Michele?” the voice asked softer, with a harsh accent on the first letter, sounding more like MI-shull. This one was Yuli, Cedric’s deceased father. The Gustat family line accomplished immortality by the parent possessing the body of the child. Weary from a millennium of suffering, Yuli Gustat gave up his breath four centuries ago when Cedric was pulled from his mother’s womb. As per their way, the father entered the son when he took his first breath.
In the hallway, the Indwelt knocked again, this time with the sound of a tentative nosy neighbor, tap-tap-tap. Michele held her breath. Yuli was no angel, but he lashed out at her the least. Still, she remained at the window, fingers on the latch.
She called across the room at the bolted door, “Mighty One, get Cedric downstairs. The sun is coming,” she said, hoping she sounded braver than she felt. The tremor in her voice was difficult to erase.
“Come sleep with us, Mi’shull. It’s been so long. Cedric will be back. Trust me.”
Michele faced outside, looking as far east as allowed by the corner of the house. She would never consent to Yuli’s request and he must realize that. She had slept with her husband one time in his crypt and nothing bad happened, the Indwelt were still. But since then, over the past year, she’d seen enough of their violence that she vowed she would never voluntarily place herself in their clutches. Although Cedric promised that he’d protect her, she found it impossible to put her confidence in his claims.
Knock-knock. A soft rap; he’d changed again.
“Kitten, it is I, your husband.”
Cedric! Michele faced the door and her hand flew to her throat.
When he was present in that crowd of spirits, her heart grew warm within her and she flushed from head-to-toe. Finally, her husband had come forward to wish her a good day.
“Cedric!” Michele breathed and reached the door in four rapid strides. Then, remembering herself, she paused, palms on the wood. “Cedric, should I open the door?”
“Yes, kitten, open the door.”
Michele unlocked two deadbolts and removed the iron bar atop them both. With a pull on the heavy door and a swish of air, she was in her beloved’s embrace. Cedric held her gently and kissed the crown of her head.
“I wanted to wish you a good day, my sweet.”
Michele held him tightly, her face pressed into the lapel of his cool leather coat. It had been three nights since she’d last seen him. When he left Monday at sunset, he hadn’t returned until last night, and she knew better than approach him then. It had been a good call, for as she prepared her dinner, the Indwelt overcame him in the bowels of the house and began the tumult to which she’d unfortunately become accustomed. But he was here now, for a few minutes.
“Are you all right? I missed you,” she whispered against him.
“If you missed me, you will look at me, no?”
Michele smiled and pulled away well enough to look into his face; Cedric’s extreme comeliness never failed to bring tears to her eyes. She considered herself a mousy girl with dull blonde hair she could hardly control and pale blue eyes that were too big for her face. She’d always attracted men too old for her, but Cedric was the first one she’d paid any mind. Painfully attractive, his dark eyes were nearly always at half-mast, hiding centuries of secrets. His mouth was set in a permanent smirk, which only served to convince Michele that he knew everything there was to know about everything and his wisdom would change her world. Raised in a Budapest orphanage since age four, Michele never knew tenderness until she met the walking god who held her now.
“Who was it that put the look of the doe into your eyes?” Cedric pierced her with his gaze, asking questions he could divine if he chose. Michele answered right away so he wouldn’t have to.
“Ki’tarit threatened me. Yuli was only there a second before you were back.”
Cedric nodded. “Yuli and I have come to an agreement. He promised to subdue the others for me, but Ki’tarit is sometimes too much for him when he thirsts.” Cedric brushed Michele’s hair from her cheek and pushed it behind her ear. “I will deal with Ki’tarit today while I sleep.”
“How did you get Yuli on your side?” Michele asked, truly curious. Cedric explained his way early in their relationship, which she accepted on faith. As far as she knew, the Indwelt could not be persuaded by anyone at any price.
“I took him on a little trip,” Cedric’s mouth went to the side, his black eyes sparkling with humor.
Michele didn’t ask for more. The Indwelt were bloodthirsty and murderous; to satiate them, Cedric would have been party to horrendous activities. Cedric put a finger to her chin and bent to kiss her mouth, lingering there long enough that she forgot to breathe. When he stood to his full height, he ran both hands into her hair and held her head gently.
“I apologize that we frightened you.”
Michele smiled, and wiped a tear that had slipped out as they kissed. “Yuli said you wanted me to sleep with you today. Is that so?”
Cedric nodded his head, his shoulder-length black hair catching the light from her room in its loose waves. “You will be safe.”
Michele’s pulse increased a few ticks, but she nodded her head in his palms. “Let me change clothes. Do we have time?”
Cedric looked over her shoulder in the direction of her window, although he could sense the sunrise more easily than observe it. “Seventeen-and-half minutes, kitten. Will that do?”
Michele nodded and backed into the room as he slowly released her. She’d visit the restroom, wash her face, and change back into her nightgown. She normally slept from noon until sunset, but she needn’t worry about insomnia; in Cedric’s crypt, he would put her to sleep gently and fully. Her husband leaned against the threshold and watched her prepare to bed down. It would only take her ten minutes and then she’d accompany him to the basement where he slept away the long Hungarian days. As she slipped her silk nightdress over her head, she begged the unknown God to keep the Indwelt at bay.
(Indwelling expected early summer, 2021. Follow this page or follow the author on Amazon to be alerted when it is out! https://www.amazon.com/Ellen-C-Maze/e/B002YWH2TY 🎉🎉🎉

Saturday, August 15, 2020

Why does Ellen write mostly vampire stories? Thoughts from the Author.


 

As far back as I can remember, I enjoyed "Dracula" stories more than any other. 

I first met Count Dracula at a Scholastic Book Fair in Middle School in the form of a graphic novel. As a budding fine artist myself, I fell in love with both the characters, the story, and the illustrations.

 

I moved then to the novel by Bram Stoker and I became inflamed with the desire to write vampire stories. At age 12, I began drawing Dracula scenes and writing short stories about vampires.

Allow young Ellen to read adult novels and by age 14, I was reading vampire fiction intended for grownups - with sex and profanity, oh my! 

(They Thirst was my favorite vampire novel after Dracula. I have read this more than fifty times in my years. It is the consummate vampire novel!)

Voraciously, I purchased every novel about vampires on the bookshelf, and this was before online shopping. I would be AT AN ACTUAL BOOKSTORE surfing actual shelves for new vampire books. I gobbled them up, reading them sometimes 20+ times.

This whole time and into high school and then college, I continued to read vampire books and write vampire stories. My career plans had nothing to do with writing - I never dreamed to be a writer at this time. I was training to be a psychologist and when I reached my senior year of college, I had decided I would get a Masters and work with the elderly.

But.

Instead.

I got married to my high school sweetheart and a year later, we had our daughter. I quit work and became a mommy. I wasn't until my daughter was 10 years old did I pick up writing again.

This is when I wrote THE JUDGING. My first novel took 3 years to write and I immediately wrote Book 2 and then a new novel called RABBIT: CHASING BETH RIDER. Over the years, all three of these became bestsellers and spawned two separate series' that I love dearly.


So by now, 2020, I have written and published more than 40 vampire-themed novels and stories and I still have dozens left in my head!

My next blog, I am going to discuss a character named Androni from the end of one of these series. He has commanded me to write him a spin-off novel and I will comply. If I refuse, he will haunt my sleep and keep me up at night. It's true.

Okay, let's go read. You might be surprised to hear that even though I am writing a new vampire novel right now, I am reading a cozy mystery about a woman and a Boston Terrier. Yes! I am a reader, too and now that I write vampire books, it's been years since I read a vampire book by someone else. Sure, I will go back and read my favorites from the 80's, but I have not read the new stuff. I should... I know... maybe later.

HUGS to you all and stay well!

~ ellen

PS: If you enjoy vampire novels (and I am also writing a cozy mystery series with NO vampires but a snarky cat, LOL) - please sign up for my newsletter. Here's a link and it provides a free book, The VAMPIRE Magician!

https://dl.bookfunnel.com/z0c7dpe1am



Wednesday, February 5, 2020

Exciting news for readers of Ellen C Maze's vampire fiction!

THE EXCITING NEWS... breaking here today and with international fanfare on April 20, THE JUDGING Book One and DAMASCUS ROAD Book Two are being re-released with brand new covers, newly reworked for 2020 and Book Three (never before published) is set to launch May 20, 2020.
Book Four ANATHEMA will launch June 20, 2020
and
Book Five NOVUS will launch July 20, 2020
Thank you for being part of this journey and any of you who have read THE JUDGING, you should give the 2020 version a read. With new chapters and a complete renovation while holding true to the story and characters you loved in 2010, this book is ready to take the series to today's world.
Sign up to my news letter to get immediate info on new releases, plus insider sales and promos. I better get to writing!
Thank you all for your support!
http://www.ellencmaze.com/about-us.php




Friday, October 12, 2018

NOVEL EXCERPT~ The Judging: How can he serve God when cursed for eternity? Vampire in Denial


THE SETUP: A Vampire in Denial


Dr. Mark Corescu has long forgotten his origins and doesn’t care to know how he became as he is. In this scene, he follows his nose to a child abuser, ending the man’s life in his own bedroom. The Judging, by Ellen C. Maze. Book One of the Corescu Chronicles



Mark dragged the corpse to the bedroom window. They were only seven stories up and although he knew that the fall may not break any major bones, it would have to do. So what if they knew it wasn’t suicide. Let them investigate.

I wasn’t even here, technically, forenscially… Mark mused, peering through the slatted blinds to the road below. Ninety minutes past rush hour, and the street was practically deserted.

Six-thirty already? Hope will be waiting.

Mark realized the judging had run long, but it had been particularly satisfying. The unmistakable pull of evil reached Mark’s consciousness from a long way off, almost a hundred miles from his cozy neighborhood in the outskirts of town. Child abuser, pedophile, the call had said. A heinous crime against God. More a transgression against God than against the children themselves. These were Mark’s favorite victims; people who abused children. And this judging had gone well from beginning to end.

At 5:45, Mark stood against the wall in the dark room and heard his victim enter the apartment and engage someone else in conversation a few rooms away. A door closed in the hall and the man’s footsteps padded toward the bedroom where Mark stood obscured by shadow. The evildoer was a middle-aged man, unassuming features, with a soft medium build. He entered the bedroom without flipping on the light, although Mark was ready either way. He stood immobile against the wall directly beside the bathroom door, ready to pounce, not caring how the attack began. It would end like all the others, with his belly full and a dead sinner in his grip.

“Zip-edee-doo-dah,” the man sang gleefully across the room. He came toward Mark, still unaware of his presence, and stopped at the bedside table to play the answering machine. As the contraption beeped, the man removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. A woman’s voice on the machine, probably the wife, said she’d be home by nine.

“My, oh my, what a wonderful day…”

The man was giddy. Mark searched his thoughts and saw his evil intentions. Through this psychic link, he knew that a frightened little form in the room next door shivered in wait. Although it was this man’s daughter, the thoughts that seeped from his mind weren’t fatherly in the least. Mark’s grin disappeared and he closed his mind; he’d seen enough.

See me.

Mark pulled at the man and willed him to acknowledge his visitor. Engrossed with his evil constructs, the guilty man was oblivious to his visitor’s presence.

“Carl J. Odom,” Mark called him out telepathically, “you are being judged.” Mark opened his hands and prepared to take the man by the throat.






“Wha—?” Carl didn’t have time to go for the light switch. There was someone—no something—in the room with him, and it wasn’t human.

He lunged for the bedside lamp, but he couldn’t move. Steel-like arms wrapped around him from behind and he bulged against his attacker. A voice in his head commanded him to be still and he quieted, his mind racing with terror.

“Carl J. Odom, you have sinned against God. You have spit in the face of your Creator time and time again with your sins of the flesh. Your time is up.”

Carl wilted, the fight drained from him like water.

“You are about to die.”

Carl believed the voice implicitly, God had sent the Angel of Death to kill him. Guilt and sorrow welled in his chest and he found it hard to breathe, more from the emotional pain than from the firm embrace of his other-worldly attacker. Abruptly, he was spun around in the devil’s grip and forced to face his judge. Like a spoiled child, Carl squeezed his eyes tightly shut and refused to open them. When telepathically commanded to open his eyes, he did so and looked into the face of hell.

“Oh, God…” His voice trailed off and his attacker grinned.

“No, but close.” Speaking aloud for the first time, the Judge held his gaze, speaking just loud enough for him to hear. “God loves you, Carl. You are His son. He is willing to have you come home, if you will repent. You have made a mess of the life He has given you.”

“Oh, God!” Released by his attacker, Carl fell to his knees and closed his eyes again. Twenty-two years of his youth were spent in the Church and his ritualistic training came back in a rush. Praying as he’d never prayed before, Carl beseeched the Virgin, Christ, the Saints and the Father, begging to be forgiven. He was about to breathe his last, but not before he set things straight with God. When he had said all he could think of in his fevered state, Carl began to cry.






Mark took Carl J. Odom into his arms as a father might a small boy. This was the best part; the penitent man begging for his salvation.

Okay, maybe it isn’t the best part, Mark corrected himself, but it is way up there.

Odom’s fervent supplications faded to a low moan and he buried his face in Mark’s coat. He continued to cry piteously as Mark found his way to his throat. Brushing the man’s shirt collar aside, Mark’s eyeteeth extended as he prepared to take his portion.

Like a B-Movie Dracula.

Not amused that he had compared himself to a Hollywood fable, Mark plunged his sharp fangs deep into the neck. Then, unbidden, he heard a reply in his head that wasn’t his own.

“Or a four hundred-year-old vampire…”

Grunting, Mark shut out that voice. Once in a while, he would hear from “The Other,” an insidious opinionated utterer who spoke to him when he fed on human blood. The Other constantly belittled Mark’s work, belittled God’s work, and Mark had long ago decided that this counter voice was Satan, himself.

“Oh, that is rich. That would give you permission, wouldn’t it?”

Again, Mark ignored The Other’s remarks and focused on the task at hand. Once the fountain flowed, Mark drew Carl’s prone body closer and drank as deeply as possible. His victim did not fight, rather, his sobs slowed and stopped, until he was limp in Mark’s arms.

The night was a huge success, and with Hope awaiting him at his house, it had really only just begun.



The Judging and (Book Two) Damascus Road On Sale in print & Kindle. Links Attached.

Book Three, The Tree of Life, is expected early 2019

Final Installment, Book Four, Anathema expected Winter 2019


Wednesday, April 7, 2010

VAMPIRES SUCK but this Vampire Book is WONDERFUL


A VAMPIRE NOVEL YOU REALLY GET SUCKED INTO! ~ A. Dolbear
5-STARS 

My newest review comes from the talented author Angela Dolbear, who's debut novel THE GARDEN KEY is making a huge splash with audiences all over the nation. She recently read and reviewed my novel, RABBIT: CHASING BETH RIDER and I am happy to share it with you now! Please be sure to pick up your copy today... and also buy Angela's book. You won't be sorry!

 
5.0 out of 5 stars A vampire novel you really get sucked into!, April 7, 2010
All puns aside, this unique supernatural thriller pulls you into the story from its epilogue. You big rooting for the heroine Beth Rider from her first scene, who is, by the way, as supernatural as the vampires in her ability to remain calm and still in the face of great danger. How does she do it? You'll have to read the book to find out for yourself.

Although I am and always have been a big fan of vampire stories, this one takes a unique turn in that we see the vampires -- or Rakum, as they are called -- challenged with the opportunity to lay aside their powerful undead status of spending the rest of earth's days roaming about the world only at night, or accept a divine relationship which restores their humanity with a promise of eternal life in heaven. Very interesting predicament, indeed.

The pace of the novel is exhilarating leaving me with a bit more of an adrenaline surge than I would like before sleep (my primary reading time), but a thoroughly enjoyable thrill ride of a novel. I am eagerly awaiting the release of its sequel.