EXCERPT FROM BLOOD TIES~ THE BEGINNING -

Foreword

Not much has ever frightened me; I mean really frightened me. The one exception to that has always been vampires. I’m not quite sure why they frighten me; I just know that from a very early age I have always had a fear-like awe of them. Silly as it may sound now, I can remember that as a teenager, I always wore a glow-in-the-dark cross around my neck. I felt safer sleeping at night when I had my cross on. Of course it was slightly annoying to my sisters, who claimed it kept them awake. (Its glow was bright, but wearing it was the only way I could get any sleep.) Yep, a glow-in-the-dark cross!! Silly, but at the time I found it necessary for me to feel safe enough to sleep. Of course, I have since outgrown the cross, but never the fear-like awe of vampires. I doubt I will ever outgrow that. In this book, I have tried to give my female heroine a more human side than the everyday vampire, while still letting her be frightening enough to be a vampire. I hope I have done well in that regard.


Chapter One

Los Angeles
If not for the fact that her picture had not been taken very often in the past; in spite of the glowing pink skin and lively eyes, as well as the name under the photo, Sabra would have sworn she was looking at a reflection of herself in a mirror. The woman looking back at her from the pages of the magazine looked enough like her that it could have been a photograph of Sabra herself.
She knew however, that it was definitely not a photo of her because she tried to stay away from photographers due to the fact that pictures of her tended to turn out extremely dim, as if there were a film of mist covering each print. The mist, Sabra knew, occurred because she had been dead, well undead actually, for four hundred and seventy six years, having spent more than four and a half centuries as a vampire. She is one of the undead, immortal; a creature of legend and myth; existing in a world of eternal darkness. A darkness filled with infinite possibilities. Feared by mortals, as well as many of her own kind. Driven by an ancient desire; a desire she manages to control much more effectively than others of her kind; the desire for blood, human blood. It is only through the fulfillment of this desire, this need, that she has been sustained down through the centuries.
Contrary to popular belief, vampires do cast reflections in mirrors, are capable of being photographed (with misty results). Have been known to eat meals alongside mortals though they can’t really taste the food they are eating and are able to go out during daylight hours, for short periods of time at least. When out in the daylight however, they possess none of the vampiric powers they possess at night. Most vampires therefore choose not to go out in daylight, when they are nearly as helpless as mortals; preferring instead the cover of darkness, which gives them the full benefit of the truly awesome powers they acquired upon crossing over into the world of the undead.
Her strength and ability to control the darker side of her nature was well known in the small sphere of her existence. Well known also among her kind was her intense dislike of the senseless killing of victims. She had learned, through the use of her strong will, that instead of draining completely the blood of one victim, a vampire could instead take a small amount from many; thus insuring the survival of the victims as well as the survival of her kind. This also helped to eliminate an overpopulation of vampires upon the world. It was her strong will, which had served her so well in life, that also aided her tremendously after her transition into the realm of the undead.
Sabra knew that vampires themselves, in order to keep an aura of mystery surrounding their kind, as well as to instill at least a small amount of fear in mortals, had started many of the myths surrounding vampires. This fear usually managed to hold most humans at bay, keeping them from delving too deeply into the vampiric way of life. There had been a few humans over the centuries who had refused to be frightened by the many legends and aura of mystery surrounding vampires. They had been effectively dealt with.
In an attempt to concentrate on the article in the magazine on the table in front of her, Sabra pulled her thoughts from the past. The photograph of the woman whose likeness was identical to her own, intrigued her. The article, which was six months old, said the woman’s name was Sinja Marquette, a twenty one year old up and coming artist who had moved to a small town in New York two years ago from an even smaller town in Kansas, after inheriting her grandmothers home. In the long run, the move had also enabled her to better pursue her art career. With the help of her old friend and agent Kurt Van Helsing, she had been able to get into local art galleries, which had led to even bigger and better things.
It went on to describe Ms. Marquette’s showing of her work at a local New York gallery and included a list of future showings that would be occurring over the next eighteen months. Sabra saw a listing for a local showing in Los Angeles Saturday night, which was the day after tomorrow. Until she turned the page however, she had no plans to attend the showing. As she turned the page, Sabra literally came face to face with herself. On the page was a photograph of a portrait of her that had been commissioned by her husband almost five centuries earlier. The caption under the photograph described it as a portrait of one of the young artists ancestors and went on to say that the portrait was from the private gallery of a well known collector in London, a man known only as Ravenal. A misty photo on the page showed his likeness. He was the reason she knew she had to attend the showing.
"NO!! I must stop him, before he has a chance to do to Sinja what he did to me all those years ago. I will NOT allow that to happen!!" Sabra didn’t realize she had spoken softly aloud until some of the restaurant patrons closest to her glanced over at her as if she had lost her mind. Her powerful mind told them they had heard nothing, to ignore her, causing everyone present to return to their meals as if she wasn’t even there. While she despised many things about her undead existence, this power was one of the few aspects she actually enjoyed about her life as a vampire. "I have to be at that gallery opening, despite the dangers it may pose for me. If I can help it, I will not let him sink his teeth into another member of my family," glancing at the date on the magazine’s front cover, she murmured, "This article is six months old, I just hope I’m not too late already."
After paying for her tea, Sabra walked out into the unseasonably mild spring evening, opened the door of her candy apple red corvette and drove the five miles to her home on the outskirts of LA.
"I’ll have to do some research into this descendant of mine, this Sinja Marquette, if I’m to be able to get near enough to her to convince her that we are somehow related," she said aloud to herself as she waited for the gates of her long driveway to open and allow her to enter.
By the time the gates had closed behind her, she was already pulling into the four-car garage that held her other vehicles; a vintage Ford Mustang that was cerulean blue, and a reddish-orange colored GTO. Sabra had always had a penchant for classic sports cars, every since the first one had rolled off the assembly line. An older model Harley Davidson sat covered, off to the side of the large structure. "Not that I should need to convince her, our remarkable resemblance should be enough to do that. But I’m going to need a believable story to tell her, just in case."
She got out of the car and went to stand outside to look up at the clear night sky above her head. A strong wind had blown most of the usual smog out over the ocean, so after a few moments of star gazing, she decided she had better get to work on her research if she was going to have to be ready in less than two days. She still had to come up with something that would support her claim of being related to Sinja Marquette. While she knew she was going to have to manufacture the evidence, she also knew the forgeries would be perfect in every detail. She had learned many useful traits over the past few centuries.
* * * * * * *

London

She remembered her last days as a living being as though they had occurred recently, instead of almost five centuries earlier. Every detail had etched itself firmly in her mind, as if she had somehow known she would soon be leaving that aspect of her existence behind her.
Within the short space of five years she had gone from new bride to new mother to newly undead. It had been hard enough leaving her childhood sweetheart Gerick, who had so recently become her husband; but Sabra found it nearly impossible to leave behind their newborn twins, Sarina and Sabian.
She knew however, that to remain after what Ravenal had done to her would merely bring danger, pain and possibly death to those she loved. Or, worse yet, force any or all of those she cared about to enter the dark underworld she herself now inhabited. Especially if Ravenal even suspected that they were at the top of her list of things nearest and dearest to her heart. Which indeed, they were. Not wishing her fate on anyone, not even her worst enemy, but most especially not her loved ones; Sabra chose to sever all ties with her family after her … death, at the hands of the one known only as Ravenal.
Ravenal, she now knew, was evil incarnate, the oldest existing vampire known to their kind. He had been roaming the Earth since the beginning of time; even he didn’t know anymore how old he really was. By the time he met Sabra in mid October of 1523, in an affluent area of London, he had traveled the Earth many times over, felt he had seen just about everything there was to see. Had done things mortals could only dream of doing.
Sabra was nearing the end of the sixth month of her pregnancy when she first met Ravenal at a small dinner party given by her oldest and dearest friend, Rachel; who, unknown to anyone, had been enthralled by Ravenal and was being forced to keep watch over him as he slept and do as he directed at any time. Rachel and Sabra had been friends for as long as either of them could remember, they knew everything there was to know about the other. At least Sabra had thought they did; right up to the night of that fateful dinner party, when Ravenal laid eyes on her for the first time.
As Sabra and Gerick drove their buggy up to the door of Rachel’s large home, they had no idea of the danger, terror and heartache that would soon come to the forefront of their lives. Danger, terror and heartache in the form of an ancient evil; an evil known as Ravenal.
"Sabra! Gerick!" Rachel exclaimed as she moved quickly toward them as they entered her home, "I’m so glad you made it. I wasn’t sure you would feel up to a party Sabra," she lowered her voice to a whisper as she leaned to hug her friend, so only the two of them could hear her next remark, "Given your condition and all."
"Have you ever known me to miss one of your wonderful parties Rachel? I’m pregnant, not dead!" At the mention of her obvious condition, those closest to them who had heard the remark turned to glare at her. Pregnancy was not something one talked about openly in 1523. If it was discussed at all, the conversations took place in one’s own home, and even then, only behind closed doors. Unlike Rachel, Sabra felt no need to whisper, as she had always considered such ideas to be archaic.
Rachel’s face reddened slightly at Sabras breach of etiquette. "You would think I would be used to your bluntness by now, after all the years we’ve known each other," she said, a bit self consciously.
"You’re getting better anyway, Rachel, your face isn’t quite as red this time as it used to get," Sabra laughingly assured her, "I do apologize for embarrassing you, but you know how I feel about the societal taboos concerning women."
Gerick, seeing a good friend of his across the room, told Sabra he would catch up to her later.
"I certainly should, considering how often over the years you’ve let everyone within hearing range know," Rachel joined in Sabras laughter as they walked arm in arm across the room, "There’s someone I want you to meet Sabra. He’s a simply marvelous man. I just know he’ll adore you."
"So, I’m finally being allowed to meet the famous mystery man, am I? I was beginning to wonder if maybe he wasn’t merely a figment of your imagination."
"Oh I assure you Madame, I’m quite real," a soft, cultured voice spoke from behind them.
Turning as quickly as her distended abdomen would allow, Sabra came face to face with the most exquisite man she had ever seen. For the first time in her life, Sabra was speechless. At six foot one, with wavy black hair, dark green eyes and skin so translucently perfect it could have been porcelain, he gave the term tall, dark and handsome a whole new meaning. She had never before met anyone who projected the feeling of harnessed power that the man in front of her did. Her heart leapt to her throat as he reached his hand out to take hers, bringing it slowly to his lips for a light kiss.
"You must be Sabra Raine. Rachel’s told me so much about you, I feel as though I’ve known you for ages," as he spoke, his voice seemed to mesmerize Sabra, causing a variety of images to quickly flash through her mind; a reaction she had never experienced before, to anyone, "I am known as Ravenal."
Upon hearing him speak his name, Sabra managed to shake her mind free of the flashing images, finally managing to say, "It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Rachel’s told me quite a bit about you as well. I’m sorry for what you overheard a few minutes ago, but it’s been so long since she first mentioned your name, I really was beginning to believe you were nothing more than a figment of her imagination. I’m pleased to see I was wrong."
"Think nothing of it, dear woman. I too have been anxious. I have been eagerly looking forward to meeting the dear friend of my sweet Rachel," he encircled Rachel’s waist with his arm as he spoke, "It is indeed an honor to meet one so close to her heart."
"You flatter me sir," Sabra murmured under her breath, "Rachel, just what have you been telling Ravenal about me?"
"Only the truth dear Sabra, I assure you. As well as a few of your deepest, darkest secrets," Rachel teased her friend.
Sabra gasped, "Rachel! You wouldn’t dare!"
"Of course not, dear heart," Rachel laughingly told her, "I would never betray your confidence. To anyone!! You should know that."
With Rachel’s assurances, Sabra felt her racing pulse begin to return to normal. However, for some reason, she wasn’t sure Rachel if was telling the whole truth or simply the truth as she believed it to be. Sabra felt that Ravenal could persuade anyone to tell him whatever he desired to know, without their ever knowing what they had revealed.
Unknown to her, that meeting was to have a profound effect on Sabras future. The next time she saw Ravenal would alter her entire perception of life, and death, though immediately following the meeting, she would forget it had even happened.



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