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Knight of Swords

The Vampire Swords Trilogy : Book One

By: Victoria Wolf
Published By: Star Temple Publishing Ltd
Copyright: Published by Star Temple Publishing Ltd.
20 chapters / 54,000 words
Heat Level:
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Lord Nathan Valancourt is handsome, young, rich, a darling of London's social set in 1893 and a notorious womaniser. He never believed in the supernatural but when a vampire killer masquerading as a clergyman begins haunting his dreams and forcing him to witness the murder of his previous conquests, Nathan vows to mend his ways.

When the killer turns his attention to Nathan's beautiful ward, Juliet, Nathan is determined to protect her. As they battle the monster, Nathan and Juliet come to realize that they share a strong psychic connection. This close bond triggers the discovery of their true heritage as descendants of human/vampire unions and leads them to uncover powers and gifts that offer them hope of victory and a love that knows no bounds.

Chapter One




London 1893


Once again I had been guest witness to a gruesome murder.  The monster had come to collect me from my dreams just as he always did.  He changed their pleasant landscape and replaced them with visions of death that would forever haunt my soul.

Somehow this creature had the terrifying ability to walk through my mind and lead my very consciousness into his own dark-filled world.  I would see his cruel murders first hand.  His emotions and mine became one and the same, linked by some fateful bond.  Only fear and revulsion remained my own.  Our senses were entwined.  I felt the touch, smell, taste and sound of all that he did.  How, I did not know.  I did not care to know.  I just wanted it to stop.

This night we approached a small, secluded alley in a forgotten, dirty, damp corner of Whitechapel, not far from where one of the notorious Ripper murders had taken place a few years earlier.  To my horror, this was somewhere I recognised.  The memory flashed strong and vivid in my mind.  I had taken Matilda, daughter of the landlord from the nearby drinking establishment, The Candlewick, up against the wall not a few weeks before. 

I remembered her innate giggling as I man-handled her fleshy, plump breasts and moved her up and down against the wall as she straddled me, pushing inside her so hard and fast my head spun.  I recognised every place the monster took me.  They were always the scene of one of my carnal sins.  It was all part of the punishment he had so meticulously devised for me.  Other than to walk dutifully behind him, my body would not move.  My will was not my own.  He wore the garments of a clergyman but I never saw his face.  It was always obscured by the shadows that seemed to surround him wherever we travelled.  He walked with a limp.  His unsteady gait made his laboured footsteps heavy upon the cobbled streets.  The clumping sound chillingly announced his arrival into my dreams when he came to collect my soul.

His heavy tread mingled with the noise of the woman’s body being drag.  My sight fixed more closely on the woman he had just murdered with his vicious vampire bite in her throat.  It was . . ., you must excuse my emotion, it was Sophie – another young woman who had been misfortunate to attract my lust.  This callous, unforgiving creature took the women I had made love to.  Oh God, Sophie, I am so sorry you ever met me.

Sophie would be his fifth killing in the last month.  Five innocent souls tormented by his cruelty before their murders.  I tried to beg for her life, to connect with any shred of humanity left in this vampire monster, but my efforts always fell upon deaf ears.  I offered my own life in return.  When that did not move him, I vowed I would find a way to stop him.  Somehow I would kill him.  Even if I swung for it, I would kill him.  I thundered this intention at him with anger, but he merely laughed at the suggestion, continuing diligently with his task.

The vampire was pleased with the choice he had made in selecting Sophie as his next victim, for it was not only me he punished with his vile acts.  Sophie bore a very close resemblance to his lost sweetheart, the woman who had rejected his tormented love.  This woman, this Juliet, whose name he whispered as he maimed and killed, drove his murders in equal strength to his passion to punish me.  Somehow the man had linked our perceived crimes, deeming them both worthy of the same punishment.  I could not help but feel as though he believed I had wooed Juliet and taken her from him as I had done with other women from other men.  Yet, I had never met her.  I confess I was confused and bewildered by his anger toward me.  Jealousy seemed as good a reason for his hostility as any other.

Though I did not know of Juliet or of her life, I was drawn to her through this creature.  Every killing was the monster’s rehearsal of Juliet’s eventual demise and I feared for her life on a continual basis.  I felt incredibly protective of her, relieved that, despite all of his efforts, he had not been able to detect her whereabouts.  The man continued to press his face into the fateful wound in Sophie’s throat to catch the rich essence that poured from her broken body.  I closed my eyes tight, unable to take the gruesome spectacle anymore.  I struggled to support myself on my shaking legs as Sophie’s blood seeped into the cobbles around my feet.  I wished I could block out the frantic sucking noises the man made, wished I could remove the taste of blood from my mouth that made me convulse.

A soft feminine cry startled both the monster and myself.  The dreadful sucking noise abruptly ceased.  I opened my eyes with a quick sharpness to find the source of the distressed utterance.  I heard him whisper her name with reverence, ‘Juliet . . . my love, Juliet, you have come at last.’




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