The Italian Version of Aveline is Now Available!

The Italian Version of Aveline is now available on Kobo, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords!

La piccola Aveline non ha idea di che cosa la aspetta quando si sveglia una mattina di Ottobre. Tutto d’un tratto si ritrova a parlare con delle fate e a guardare il suo cagnolino Milo che balla al ritmo di musica. Ovviamente, nulla e’ mai come sembra quando si tratta di fate, e molte sorprese attendono Aveline e i suoi cari. 

Aveline & The Great Pumpkin Bash - Chapter 2: Abomination

Chapter 2: Abomination

At first, she mistook his rasp for the snickering of little girls just a short distance away. But strange sounds swirled through the abomination’s rotting lungs, its exhalation culminating with a mangled whistle.

Aveline surged forward, not questioning the wings sprouting from her back. She didn’t have the slightest notion how large they were or at what velocity she was flying. All she knew was that she needed to get out of there fast, even if it meant delving deeper into the void. “Light as a feather-”

“Hasten thy demise!” The creature roared.

The little girl shot through the chasm with renewed vigor. “Please mother, deliver me from this pit of ruin.”

“Only in ruin shall you find her. Now that I have come for you, your reunion is all but certain.” The beast’s putrid stench filled her nostrils.

His booming voice echoed through her, striking a familiar cord. “I know you. You were in my backyard with the fairies just a short while ago.”

“Are you certain of that?”

Though she did not see him through the dense thicket in her backyard, she could feel his presence. On the journey over he slipped in behind her, waiting patiently for his opportunity when she swept past the gates of the netherfaery.

His glowing eyes snapped open before her, dull and glassy like chunks of dusty ice. “There is no sense running any longer. Accept your fate as any primitive should.” Blue fire erupted from his mouth, causing his teeth to glow as well.  Rows and rows of hideous teeth snapped down at her, each about the size of her abbreviated form.

“Anabelle, Anaia, Amorina!” she cried, swerving aside at the last instant.

“They cannot help you here.” The monster unleashed its volcanic breath again, singeing Aveline’s wings.

It was a dragon, here in the darkness with her! And it wasn’t a cute little pet dragon as found in children’s books, but a demon born of nightmares.

“Mommy….daddy…please!” She knifed through the air.

“Yesss…cry for mommy and daddy…” The dragon illuminated the void with its white-hot breath. Before Aveline knew it, the winged serpent was on top of her.

As he snapped down, the little girl cried out, “No, stop!” And suddenly all was still in that dark, dank place. “Stop,” she repeated, and turned to face the beast. Though its jaws were extended and fiery breath gushing from its mouth, the dragon was held there, suspended in time. “You did what I asked of you,” Aveline gasped.

Vampire Hunters: Calamity - Chapter 1: Captivé

“Another dress? No thanks, ma,” I told her on my fourteenth birthday. “I’d like a hunting knife instead.”

She eyed me curiously, as if I had just told her that I was no longer a virgin. “And what do you need a knife for, Cailan?”

“To kill vampires, of course.”

“It takes a lot more than a knife to kill a vampire.” She rubbed the scar above her ear.

“A toothpick can be lethal if you know how to use it. At least, that’s what the old man told me,” I replied.

Momma pursed her lips, and began knitting again, but I was smitten with my new occupation. At first I thought I would be angry when she started seeing the stranger a few months ago, but my heart warmed every time he passed by.

Initially I thought he was a dork…all right, perhaps he is a dork; but when I caught him throwing knives into an old post I was captivated. I hid behind a bush and watched for a while, certain he could not see me. Knife after knife he buried into the pillar, each the same distance apart. After tossing his three knives, he yanked them out and began again.

Mesmerized by his accuracy, I could not take my eyes off him. He seemed more like a machine than a man. When I edged forward to get a better look, he turned and asked, “Would you like to try?”

A man of few words, I could not believe he was speaking to me. “Sure.” I rose and brushed off leaves from my hair and dress.

He had been kind to my mother, always implying a respectable distance, and never trying to place a kiss on her lips. Although he rarely revealed his feelings, especially around me, I could sense that he enjoyed being here. Perhaps I reminded him of someone he knew who also had lost her father. Hopefully one day he would open up and share this.

“Take the blade with both hands. It is the easiest throw to make.” He positioned my hands above my head, and placed a knife in them. “Imagine what you hate the most. Do you see it there in the post?” he whispered. “Now kill it. Eradicate it from your life!”

The knife slipped from my hands as I tossed it, veering off course, and falling into a pile of leaves.

“Did I not make myself clear? Kill it before it kills you.” He handed me another knife. “Again.”

I gripped the handle tight, and flung it with all my might. It flew straighter this time, but well short of the post.

“Better.” He stepped closer, his dark coat blocking out the sun. “Imagine not your own mortality, but one that you hold dear. Someone whose life will be snuffed out if you do not hit the mark. Like your mother,” his voice sharpened.

My eyes began to well with tears, for indeed that was exactly what happened. Gazing up from under the bed I was helpless to do anything when the shadow burst through my bedroom door and seized her. If I were skilled like the old man, perhaps my father would still be with us.

“Die, you bastard!” The knife flew straight and true, streaking through the air, and thrusting into the top of the post.

“Well done. You are a natural.” He patted me on the shoulder.

How magnificent it felt to be touched by another man, even though he was not my father.

“Most likely you would have only nicked his ear.” He stepped away and collected the knives. “Vampires are quick and crafty. It takes precision and a fair amount of good luck to kill them.” He rejoined me and tossed the knives into the post once more.

He knelt to one knee, and looked into me with his gray eyes. “I am sorry that I did not know you sooner.”

The connection that I now felt with him combined with the loss of my father elicited a storm of emotion from me. He held me close as I wept, the first man to do so since that fateful night when my father came home early to celebrate my thirteenth birthday.

I could barely hide my disappointment when he collected his things and left the following morning.

“He will be back, just as he has in times past.” My mother ran her fingers through my long, brown hair.

“How can you be certain?” I found myself in tears again.

“Because there is a fire in him that cannot be so easily quelled. Besides, he purchased the old shed out back. He said that he would like to make his new home here.”

“With you?” I wiped the tears from my eyes.

“With us.” She pulled me closer.

I slipped from her grasp and walked over to a knife buried in the old post.

“What is it, dear?” Ma stayed on the porch.

I extracted the silver blade and held it close. “I think I love you, Lawson,” I murmured.