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Preview "Tales of a Vampire Hunter"

Click to buy, share, or preview the first few chapters of Tales of a Vampire Hunter - Omnibus Edition (the Collected Works of the Tales of a Vampire Series, Books 1 - 3).


For a full-length preview, download IMMORAL: Tales of a Vampire Hunter Book One FREE from these booksellers:

Amazon (Universal link)
Barnes and Noble Nook Book
Apple iBooks
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Excerpt from "Tales of a Vampire Hunter" - Omnibus Edition: The Collected Works of the Tales of a Vampire Hunter Books 1 - 3

Author's Favorite Excerpt from Tales of a Vampire Hunter - Omnibus Edition: The Collected Works of Tales of a Vampire Hunter 1 - 3 

From Book 3 (Bespelled)


Bangkok, Thailand

Oliver Ripley exited the limo and stepped into another world, a place peaceful and serene. A winding brook babbled over rocks, and fragrant white flowers bloomed along a stone pathway. Sculptured faces of ancient Asian Gods gazed at him from jungle-lush foliage. Silver chimes tinkled, and exotic birds chirped. Oliver did not let the Zen-like calm shake his resolve to do the violence he’d come to do.

“They are ready for you.” A delicate Thai woman met him where the stone walkway widened and became a patio. Tonight, she wore a ruby-red silk, traditional Chakkri dress shot through with gold thread. Her black hair glistened, coiled low on her neck.

She walked briskly down a wood-planked dock, over the gently rippling turquoise-blue sea to a large pavilion flanked by two more just like it, filled with people. His audience. The ones who paid his rent with their twisted desires. He wondered what it cost them to indulge their morbid cravings. Judging from his cut, it had to be a pretty penny. And what of their souls? Did they carry what they witnessed with them, like a dark secret, or did they manage to leave it behind in a way Oliver never could?

The nameless Thai woman left Oliver in the empty center pavilion and backed away from him, bowing low out of respect and maybe a touch of fear.

The party had been going on for a while. Some people were already naked. Others lounged fully clothed and intent on Oliver’s every move.

Oliver waited until the sun had gone down, and that twilight time had come when the clouds were dark purple, black and blue. Under a bruised sky, he would do what he’d come to do. He hoped, as he did every time, this would be the last.

He lifted his hand, calling for silence, which came swiftly. The crowd was eager for the show to begin.

“Bring me the girl,” he said.

A woman in the audience yelped, setting off the nervous laughter of others in the audience. All eyes were on him and the girl who walked slowly toward him, like a bride, down the narrow dock and over the water that sparkled now in the moonlight.

She was young and very lovely. Shades of brown. Autumn. Shaggy, red-brown hair, cocoa skin, doe eyes. Naked, and unbound, she walked to him, stopping a respectful distance away, meeting his eyes. On her finger, she wore a large ruby ring marking her a Vladula clan vampire. Her breasts were tiny and her legs long. Hair formed a triangular thicket between her thighs. In the black coils, bits of red caught the light of the oil lamps lining the edge of the pavilion.

“Why are you here?” he asked, not speaking the words aloud, but pushing the question into her head as they gazed at one another for the first time—vampire and vampire slayer, hunted and hunter, instantly connected.

The audience need not hear this part, the truth they had not paid to witness. But Oliver had to. “Are you prepared to die?” he asked, when she did not answer, speaking aloud this time.

A woman in the audience shrieked. This was part of what they paid for—the sense of danger, being so close to a real, live, honest-to-goodness vampire and vampire slayer, facing death made palpable and entertaining because it wasn’t their own. Aware they were in the presence of creatures capable of taking their lives, quickly and efficiently, had they the desire. Sex and death and danger formed a wicked cocktail, an addictive drug. Most, of course, thought it was an act. A snuff film performed live for their twisted enjoyment. Made more interesting by the roles played—creature-feature monsters come to real, sexual, and deadly life.

“I want to die.” The girl’s voice rang out in his head and then repeated out loud, soft and sure.

The crowd cheered.

Oliver looked away from the sadness in the girl’s eyes and watched as a middle-aged white man with a huge cock shoved a small blonde woman to her knees and pushed himself into her mouth, gripping her long hair, his shifty eyes glued to Oliver.

“Why?” Oliver looked once more at the girl, pushing his voice into her mind where no one else could hear.

“I didn’t ask for this. I’m scared.” Tears spilled from her eyes as she spoke the words aloud.

In the audience, clothes were shed, tops lifted, nipples sucked, cocks stroked. This was what they’d come to see. This was what they’d paid for. This was what they wanted. Sex and danger and death.

“Fuck her,” someone said, their tone that of one already in the throes of pleasure, impatient for their climax.

“Kill her,” another shouted, their voice gruff with a darker excitement.

Oliver spoke aloud as the vampire girl had. “You desire it fast and hard. Quick.” He leaned closer to the girl, his lips almost brushing hers.

The audience’s collective excitement hung heavy and alive in the air, like an electrical storm. Flesh slapping on flesh sounded a drum-like beat that seemed to echo the pounding in Oliver’s heart.

The girl trembled. Her eyelashes swept down as she looked away, but she stayed in place, standing before him begging him to kill her, save her. Pushing the words into his head.

Oliver sighed. She was another too weak to free him from his curse. Another who only begged him to put her out of her misery, with no idea of his. Weak she was, afraid and suicidal. A victim of the vampires, a fledgling with no Master. A Vladula.

He slipped his hand under her hair, his thumb resting on the frantic pulse fluttering in her neck. The hairs on his arms rose.

“Please. End it.” She opened her eyes. They were dry now, determined.

“Would that I could end it for us both,” Oliver said softly, too softly for anyone else to hear.

His hands on her shoulders told her what to do. She sank to her knees, mouth open before him, those huge eyes still begging him. Her voice was silent, but in his head, her thoughts flowed as his slayer soul reached out and easily snared her newly-made vampire essence and the small nugget that remained of the girl she once had been.

He saw into her mind as if watching a movie. She showed him how they’d come for her in a dark, underground parking garage. Arms loaded with books, fumbling for her keys, she had been an easy victim, lost before she hit the ground. And then, the man with a black Mohawk, who wore a leather collar studded with silver spikes. Spike Vladula. Blood. Voices as she lay dying. “The key. The doorway…” as the vampire took her over, brought her to the brink of death and then eased her back. In the end, dying, afraid, she’d drank the blood, heard the strange, senseless words. I don’t want to die, she’d thought then as she did now. But I can’t live like this.

“Why?” Anger and sadness flooded him. He yanked her head back with a fistful of her hair.

“If I have to live like this, I’m already dead.” Her voice was a scream in his head.

She answered the wrong question, telling him why she wanted to die as if he didn’t know the gut-wrenching torment one such as she felt trapped by abilities she never asked for and didn’t want. She did not know why Vladula had picked her, why she was here, or why she was about to die.

Guiding her hands to his cock, he held her fingers in his, showing her how to do it. His anger, her fear, their shock and confusion, on stage before people who now fucked all around them, eyes glassy, drunk on forbidden pleasures, had quickened his breath and hers. His flesh surged upward, driving into her seeking fingers. His fury adding to the tension.

Her lips appeared bruised, swollen like her nipples, sweet buds tight and high despite the balmy ocean breeze. Her thighs parted. She looked up at him as if no one watched them. Her eyes locked to his fingers as he slipped buttons free of leather and wrapped his fingers around his cock.

The memories running through her mind as his soul enveloped hers like a cocoon could be nothing but truth. She could not hide anything from him in the throes of death as he took her life. But what did it mean? Why would Vladula send a messenger with no message? Or a message that made no sense? If she had been able to lead him to Spike, Oliver wouldn’t have been so irritated. He’d simply kill Spike and anyone stupid enough to be with him. As it was, being tipped off about his cover being blown just meant he’d have to leave Bangkok so he’d be free to hunt without the distraction of dealing with Vladulas. Though killing them was enjoyable, he preferred to do it on his terms and on his schedule.

Distracted, Oliver watched a man shoot a thick stream of white over a curvaceous woman’s breasts as the dying vampire girl worked Oliver’s own hard flesh as if the thick appendage she sucked was her lifeline. Her moans vibrated along his shaft.

Pleasure peaked, and around them, the air began to glow and spin. Energy whipped the colors into a rainbow swirling around them. A cloud of pure life-force shimmered around vampire and vampire hunter.

A collective gasp swelled from those who watched. Could they see it? Feel it? Oliver thought they must, on some level, though most convinced themselves it was an elaborate, very expensive show.

“Beautiful,” someone said, wonder in their voice.

Inside, where none could see, and only Oliver and the girl could feel, their souls spun together. Oliver’s dipped inside, finding her essence fresh and young, innocent and blameless. A life too soon taken away, condemned. His heart contracted. Pity flooded him. As tears flowed from her eyes, and his seed filled her mouth, he felt her at her core. He knew her as if he’d been with her always. From her first steps to the ones that had led her here. And he cared. He cared enough to free her.

Gratitude shone in her eyes as she realized what was happening to her, even as the light within them dimmed, and his slayer soul began to extinguish the faint light still clinging to life within her.

The crowd roared its satisfaction when the girl slumped to the stage.

As the last spark of her life began to fade, and Oliver waited for the cold, dead stare he knew well, a frisson split off from the cyclone of their combined energy, as if seeking to escape death, untethering itself and fleeing the girl, spitting and stinging as it slammed into Oliver like a fist punch to the chest. Hunters absorbed energy from the vamps they killed, but Oliver had never felt anything like this before.

At his feet, the girl jerked as if shocked by jolts of electricity. Her chest lifted, back arching, breath gasping. Her eyes flew open, and her scream seemed to shove the foreign, contaminated thing deeper into Oliver.

His slayer energy swelled, a hurricane circling the vampire curse—for surely, that’s what the crackling thing was—smoothing it, containing it, and absorbing it until it winked out, not even a smolder remaining.

The girl stirred and opened her eyes. She blinked. Confusion furrowed her brow, her thoughts as jumbled as his, and still

Despite his confused astonishment, Oliver scooped the girl up, tossed her over his shoulder and left the stage. His long legs made quick time up the dock.
The tiny Asian woman met him, passing him the usual small pouch containing his pay. She bowed low, not meeting his eyes, not remarking on the limp girl he carried.

In the driveway, the limo waited as it always did. The breeze fluttered perfumed flowers, and night sounds whirred. The noise of the crowd, dressing, whispering in low voices, seemed far away, soon locked beyond the insulating world of the limo. Driving down streets clogged with cars, red and white lights streaking by, it was silent. Oliver was left alone with his jumbled and raw emotions, the strange girl sleeping on his lap, nestled under his jacket, her face peaceful. She’d passed out.

For Oliver, the torment over the night’s unprecedented events was quieted by the shrieking of awakened inner demons. Closing his eyes, he let the memories consume him.

READ MORE . . . BUY Tales of a Vampire Hunter now ($2.99 for a limited time)

"Tales of a Vampire Hunter" Omnibus Edition - Coming Friday!

Tales of a Vampire Hunter - e-Book Out July 29th

Finally! The e-Book version of Tales of a Vampire Hunter is coming out July 29th.

Tales of a Vampire Hunter has been a labor of love spanning one short story and three novellas (and countless rewrites). As a thank you to the fans who urged me on and turned me into a best-selling author, I let them pick this hot new cover.


M.L. Doyle Review

M.L. Doyle highlights Tales of a Vampire Hunter here, in her provocative blog post about genres and books we "refuse to read" based on preconceived notions. I love a good vampire or zombie novel that breaks with convention and tells a good story (and I am not ashamed to admit it). My sales tell me that many of you agree.

M.L. writes in several genres. I love her work, but if she doesn't have anything new, I can count on her to highlight someone else with a new release I will love. Her new release, Hidden Designs, based in the Lei Crime Kindle World, features FBI Special Agent, Ken Yamada and Army Major, Chuck Mathews, two men who (in the past) were forced to make a choice between career and love. Now, ten-years later, they don’t have to choose one over the other because they don’t have to hide anymore. I can't wait to read it!


I Love Vampire Novels

I Love Vampire Novels is featuring Tales of a Vampire Hunter on their website and in their newsletter on release day (sweet!), and several reviews are in the works from authors and fans of the genre that refuses to die (pun totally intended ;>)


To celebrate, I'll be scheduling giveaways and other fun stuff in the coming weeks, so stay tuned!

If you haven't already preordered your copy, get it today (FREE for Kindleunlimited or for a special release price of only $2.99 for a limited time).


BUY NOW ON AMAZON (universal Amazon link)




"Tales of a Vampire Hunter" Omnibus Collection


Tales of a Vampire Hunter Omnibus Collection

This Omnibus Edition collects the three Tales of a Vampire Hunter novellas into a single volume. It is for those who arrived late to the party and wish to save a few bucks while picking up the same stories in a single package plus a bonus short story and an audio-story offer.

The first Tales of a Vampire Hunter story (Vacancy) was released as a standalone short story in July 2012. Due to reader demand and reviewer encouragement, the rest of the story was released over the next several months as a series of blog posts that turned into IMMORAL, the first novella in the series. 

My thanks go out to the readers who helped craft the novellas that followed and kept asking for more. Without you, I wouldn't have completed DEPRAVED or BESPELLED. Your demand and support created this novel as much as I did and turned me from a short-story writer into a best-selling author of novels.

Tales of a Vampire Hunter is the story of Oliver Ripley, a vampire hunter struggling to understand his rare powers while vampires threaten mankind and ancient and evil beings plot revenge and the ultimate destruction of humans. The world we know has grown unkind; the dangers undiscussed and unseen. But some still hope and dream despite the menace others cannot see. When worlds collide, and mankind teeters on the edge of extinction, its only hope is an unlikely team of a gifted little girl, a vengeful vampire hunter, a reluctant vampire, and a mutant werewolf.


Pre-order the e-Book version of TALES OF A VAMPIRE HUNTER - OMNIBUS EDITION now

"Immoral: Tales of a Vampire Hunter #1" . . . Then and Now

Immoral: Tales of a Vampire Hunter #1 early cover idea
Immoral: Tales of a Vampire Hunter #1 (early cover idea)
Today, someone "liked" this 2013 cover idea I posted in a Facebook group way back then and gave me such a thrill. How lucky I am to have had the support of readers for all this time. You made the book #1. You turned it from a short story into a trilogy, and you have kept it in the top 100 on Amazon since 2013. The Omnibus Edition comes out soon, and IMMORAL (the first in the series) is . . . and always will be . . . free as a "thank you" to readers. None of this magic could have happened without you.

Just for fun, here's the old, original description:

Vampires, Vampire hunters, forbidden love, thrilling adventure and hot sex. Readers say, "What a fast paced, roller coaster ride of an erotic adventure. I had a hard time putting this book down. As the reader follows Oliver Ripley on his coming of age adventure, there is sex, death, romance, and plot twists to keep the action moving forward at a rapid pace." 

Click the link to download it today - http://amzn.to/1dO7gF7

Bespelled: Tales of a Vampire Hunter - Sneak Preview

The thrilling conclusion to the bestselling "Tales of a Vampire Hunter" series. 


Oliver Ripley is older, wiser, and harder . . . a vampire hunter mutant drowning in pain and excess and guilt, hell-bent on punishing himself and taking down as many vampires as possible in the process. Once more, his enemies draw close, setting an irresistible trap. But, Oliver no longer wants to run. A different man now, immoral and depraved, he's become the very thing he swore he would never be. Fearing nothing, with nothing to lose, he seeks only revenge, and leaves only death in his wake. But when everything changes, can he find the human soul within himself in order to save our world and protect the innocent victims of a demonic plot as ancient as the universe itself?

Here's a steamy sneak peak:

CHAPTER ONE


Bangkok, Thailand

Oliver Ripley exited the limo and stepped into another world, a place peaceful and serene. A winding brook babbled over rocks, and fragrant white flowers bloomed along a stone pathway. Sculptured faces of ancient Asian gods gazed at him from jungle-lush foliage. Silver chimes tinkled and exotic birds chirped. Oliver did not let the Zen-like calm shake his resolve to do the violence he’d come to do.

“They are ready for you.” A delicate Thai woman met him where the stone walkway widened and became a patio. Tonight, she wore a ruby-red silk traditional Chakkri dress shot through with gold thread. Her black hair glistened, coiled low on her neck.

She walked briskly down a wood-planked dock, over the gently rippling turquoise-blue sea to a large pavilion flanked by two more just like it, filled with people. His audience. The ones who paid his rent with their twisted desires.

He wondered what it cost them to indulge their morbid cravings. Judging from his cut, it had to be a pretty penny. And what of their souls? Did they carry what they witnessed with them, like a dark secret, or did they manage to leave it behind in a way Oliver never could?

The nameless Thai woman left Oliver in the empty center pavilion and backed away from him, bowing low out of respect and maybe a touch of fear.

The party had been going on for a while. Some people were already naked. Others lounged fully clothed and intent on Oliver’s every move.

Oliver waited until the sun had gone down, and that twilight time had come when the clouds were dark purple, black and blue. Under a bruised sky, he would do what he’d come to do. He hoped, as he did every time, this would be the last.

He lifted his hand, calling for silence, which came swiftly. The crowd was eager for the show to begin. “Bring me the girl,” he said.

A woman in the audience yelped, setting off the nervous laughter of others in the audience. All eyes were on him and the girl who walked slowly toward him, like a bride, down the narrow dock and over the water that sparkled now in the moonlight.

She was young and very lovely. Shades of brown. Autumn. Shaggy, red-brown hair, cocoa skin, doe eyes. Naked, and unbound, she walked to him, stopping a respectful distance away, meeting his eyes. On her finger, she wore a large ruby ring that marked her. Vladula. Her breasts were tiny and her legs long. Hair formed a triangular thicket between her thighs. In the black coils, bits of red caught the light of the oil lamps lining the edge of the pavilion.

“Why are you here?” he asked her, not speaking the words aloud, but pushing the question into her head as they gazed at one another for the first time—vampire and vampire slayer, hunted and hunter, instantly connected.

The audience need not hear this part, the truth they had not paid to witness. But Oliver had to. “Are you prepared to die?” he asked, when she did not answer, speaking aloud this time.

A woman in the audience shrieked. This was part of what they paid for—the sense of danger, being so close to a real, live, honest-to-goodness vampire and vampire slayer, facing death made palpable and entertaining because it wasn’t their own. Aware they were in the presence of creatures capable of taking their lives, quickly and efficiently, had they the desire. Sex and death and danger formed a wicked cocktail, an addictive drug. Most, of course, thought it was an act. A snuff film performed live for their twisted enjoyment. Made more interesting by the roles played—creature-feature monsters come to real, sexual and deadly life.

“I want to die.” The girl’s voice rang out in his head and then repeated out loud, soft and sure.

The crowd cheered.

Oliver looked away from the sadness within the girl’s eyes and watched as a middle-aged white man with a huge cock shoved a small blond woman to her knees and pushed himself into her mouth, gripping her long hair, his shifty eyes glued to Oliver.

“Why?” Oliver looked once more at the girl, pushing his voice into her mind where no one else could hear him.

“I didn’t ask for this. I’m scared.” Tears spilled from her eyes as she spoke the words aloud.

In the audience, clothes were shed, tops lifted, nipples sucked, cocks stroked. This was what they’d come to see. This was what they’d paid for. This was what they wanted. Sex and danger and death.

“Fuck her,” someone said, their tone that of one already in the throes of pleasure, impatient for their climax.

“Kill her,” another shouted, their voice gruff with a darker excitement.

Oliver spoke aloud, as the vampire girl had. “You desire it fast and hard. Quick.” He leaned down, closer to the girl, his lips almost brushing hers.

The audience’s collective excitement hung heavy and alive in the air, like an electrical storm. The sounds of flesh slapping on flesh sounded a drum-like beat that seemed to echo the pounding in Oliver’s heart.

The girl trembled. Her eyelashes swept down as she looked away, but she stayed in place, standing before him begging him to kill her, save her. Pushing the words into his head.

Oliver sighed. She was another too weak to free him from his curse. Another who only begged him to put her out of her misery, with no idea of his. Weak she was, afraid and suicidal. A victim of the vampires, a fledgling with no Master. A Vladula.

He slipped his hand under her hair, his thumb resting on the frantic pulse fluttering in her neck. The hairs on his arms rose.

“Please. End it.” She opened her eyes. They were dry now, determined.

“Would that I could end it for us both,” Oliver said softly, too softly for anyone else to hear.

His hands on her shoulders told her what to do. She sank to her knees, mouth open before him, those huge eyes still begging him. Her voice was silent, but in his head, her thoughts flowed as his slayer soul reached out and easily snared her newly made vampire essence and the small nugget that remained of the girl she once had been.

He saw into her mind as if watching a movie. She showed him how they’d come for her in a dark, underground parking garage. Arms loaded with books, fumbling for her keys, she had been an easy victim, lost before she hit the ground. And then, the man with a black Mohawk, who wore a leather collar, studded with silver spikes. Spike Vladula. Blood. Voices as she lay dying. “The key. The doorway . . .” as the vampire took her over, brought her to the brink of death, and then eased her back. In the end, dying, afraid, she’d drank the blood, heard the strange, senseless words. I don’t want to die, she’d thought then as she did now. But I can’t live like this.

“Why?” Anger and sadness flooded him. Seeing the man who’d killed his daughter, even in this girl’s memory, filled him with murderous rage. He yanked her head back with a fistful of her hair.

“If I have to live like this, I’m already dead.” Her voice was a scream in his head.

She answered the wrong question, telling him why she wanted to die, as if he didn’t know the gut-wrenching torment one such as she felt trapped by abilities she never asked for and didn’t want. She did not know why Vladula had picked her, why she was here, or why she was about to die.

Guiding her hands to his cock, he held her fingers in his, showing her how to do it. His anger, her fear, their shock and confusion, on stage before people who now fucked all around them, eyes glassy, drunk on forbidden pleasures, had quickened his breath and hers. His flesh surged upward, driving into her seeking fingers. His fury adding to the tension.

Her lips appeared bruised, swollen like her nipples, sweet buds tight and high despite the balmy ocean breeze. Her thighs parted. She looked up at him as if no one watched them. Her eyes locked to his fingers as he slipped buttons free of leather and wrapped his fingers around his cock.

The memories running through her mind as his soul enveloped hers like a cocoon could be nothing but truth. She could not hide anything from him in the throes of death as he took her life. But what did it mean? Why would Vladula send a messenger with no message? Or a message that made no sense? If she had been able to lead him to Spike, Oliver wouldn’t have been so irritated. He’d simply kill Spike and anyone stupid enough to be with him. As it was, being tipped off about his cover being blown just meant he’d have to leave Bangkok so he’d be free to hunt without the distraction of dealing with Vladulas. Though killing them was enjoyable, he preferred to do it on his terms, and on his schedule.

Distracted, Oliver watched a man shoot a thick stream of white over a curvaceous woman’s breasts as the dying vampire girl worked Oliver’s own hard flesh as if the thick appendage she sucked was her lifeline. Her moans vibrated along his shaft.

Pleasure peaked, and around them, the air began to glow and spin. Energy whipped the colors into a rainbow swirling around them. A cloud of pure life-force shimmered around vampire and vampire hunter.

A collective gasp swelled from those who watched. Could they see it? Feel it? Oliver thought they must, on some level, though most still convinced themselves it was an elaborate, very expensive show.

“Beautiful,” someone said, wonder in their voice.

Inside, where none could see, and only Oliver and the girl could feel, their souls spun together. Oliver’s dipped inside, finding her essence fresh and young, innocent and blameless. A life too soon taken away, condemned. His heart contracted. Pity flooded him. As tears flowed from her eyes, and his seed filled her mouth, he felt her at her core. He knew her as if he’d been with her always. From her first steps to the ones that had led her here. And he cared. He cared enough to free her.

Gratitude shone in her eyes as she realized what was happening to her, even as the light within them dimmed, and his slayer soul began to extinguish the faint light still clinging to life within her.

The crowd roared its satisfaction when the girl slumped to the stage.

As the last spark of her life began to fade, and Oliver waited for the cold, dead stare he knew well, a frisson split off from the cyclone of their combined energy, as if seeking to escape death, untethering itself and fleeing the girl, spitting and stinging as it slammed into Oliver like a fist punch to the chest.

At his feet, the girl jerked as if shocked by jolts of electricity. Her chest lifted, back arching, breath gasping. Her eyes flew open, and her scream seemed to shove the foreign, contaminated thing deeper into Oliver.

His slayer energy swelled, a hurricane circling the vampire curse—for surely, that’s what the crackling thing was—smoothing it, containing it, and absorbing it until it winked out, not even a smolder remaining.

At his feet, the girl stirred and opened her eyes. She blinked. Confusion furrowed her brow, her thoughts as jumbled as his, and still wide open to him. Not a hint of vampire curse tainted her now. Somehow, Oliver had danced with her soul and seduced away only the vampire part of her, leaving the girl as pure as before she’d been attacked and used in the Vladula’s war against him.

Despite his confused astonishment, Oliver scooped the girl up, tossed her over his shoulder and left the stage. His long legs made quick time up the dock.

The tiny Asian woman met him, passing him the usual, small pouch containing his pay. She bowed low, not meeting his eyes, not remarking on the limp girl he carried.

In the driveway, the limo waited as it always did. The breeze fluttered perfumed flowers, and night sounds whirred. The noise of the crowd, dressing, whispering in low voices, seemed far away, soon locked beyond the insulating world of the limo. Driving down streets clogged with cars, red and white lights streaking by, it was silent. Oliver was left alone with his jumbled and raw emotions, the strange girl sleeping on his lap, nestled under his jacket, her face peaceful. She’d passed out.

For Oliver, the torment over what had happened was quieted by the shrieking of awakened inner demons. Closing his eyes, he let the memories consume him.

(Releases December 19th)

Depraved: Tales of a Vampire Hunter, #2 . . . Out Now!

In Immoral: Tales of a Vampire Hunter, Book One, Oliver and Miranda discovered the truth about their unique vampire/vampire hunter genetics and clawed their way out of a world of immorality and destruction. A world seething with secrets and lies. Now, they are on the run, hunted by enemies with deadly agendas. They’ll do anything to survive and live the life they dream of, in peace. But nothing is as it seems. An ancient evil lurks in their family tree and must be defeated.

They must fight to keep the promise of hope—and love—alive. But there are rules. Rules that control the balance of the world. If broken, they could destroy everything. When new threats come like an inevitable storm, will they be able to fight their way out of the underworld's darkest depths? Will their love for each other be enough to save them, or will they be torn apart forever?


Sneak Peek at IMMORAL: Tales of a Vampire Hunter #1

IMMORAL: Tales of a Vampire Hunter by Zander Vyne
See why Flashbot named Oliver and Miranda one of the "World's Sexiest Couples".

Paris, France

 From Chapter 9

“Where are we going?”

“It's a surprise. You’re going to love it. Promise,” Miranda said.

Looking at her sparkling eyes and happy smile, Oliver relaxed. Whatever came, at least they would have this night and, for the time being, she seemed to be as caught up in the moment as he was. They were good together.

Aboard the crowded train, they found no seats. There were poles to hang onto. She slid her hands up the cold metal like a stripper, intentionally baiting him. It felt dangerous. It felt naughty. Her ass pressed into the pole, her back arched, her fingers gripped over her head. She felt many eyes devouring her, and she shivered.

Read more »
or






IMMORAL: Tales of a Vampire Hunter #1

I am so excited to have the rights to this novella back, and to try self-publishing for the first time. Oliver Ripley originally appeared on my blog as a serialized novella. I challenged myself to publish each chapter as I wrote it (no editing, no plotting ahead, two chapters per week). The reader response was astounding, and that kept me going despite writing myself into corners I had to claw my way out of, and hitting that mid-novel slump where none of it seemed to be coming together. In the end, Oliver became my first published novella. I am feverishly working on a sequel, and hope to have both available soon wherever books are sold.

Betrayed by his family, vampire slayer Oliver Ripley finds himself on the run with his sworn enemy, fledgling vampire Miranda Vladula, who claims to hold the key to secrets that could free them both.

Miranda thinks she will do anything to lure a Ripley into her trap, but Oliver does not turn out to be the cold-hearted killer she expects.

Discovering their fates intertwined, Oliver and Miranda fight enemies they did not see coming when they uncover a plot that could destroy them and everyone they love.  Forced to face a horrific truth that challenges everything they have ever believed, with no one to trust but each other, they must fight their growing attraction even as they battle for their lives.

As their world crumbles around them, Oliver and Miranda find danger, secrets, and temptations wherever they turn.  Burning with passion too hot to ignore, not even the threat of death can tear them apart.

Does Oliver have the strength to fight a legion of angry vampires? Can he resist his hunger for Miranda, knowing to succumb to passion could kill them both?

READ CHAPTER ONE NOW
Vacancy (a stand-alone story)

Oliver Ripley, Vampire Slayer - Coming Soon!

Coming soon from Sizzler Editions
Betrayed by his family, black sheep vampire hunter, Oliver Ripley finds himself on the run with his sworn enemy, fledgling vampire Miranda Vladula, who claims to hold the key to secrets that could free them both.

Taught to hate vampire slayers, Miranda thinks she will do anything to lure a Ripley into her trap, but sexy Oliver does not turn out to be the cold-hearted killer she expects.

Discovering their fates intertwined, Oliver and Miranda fight enemies they did not see coming when they uncover a plot that could destroy them and everyone they love. Forced to face a horrific truth that challenges everything they have ever believed, with no one to trust but each other, they must fight their growing lust even as they battle for their lives.

From Chicago to Paris, in kinky sex clubs and underground lairs, tension escalates between their bloodlines. As their world crumbles around them, Oliver and Miranda find danger, secrets, and temptations wherever they turn. Burning with passion too hot to ignore, not even the threat of death can tear them apart.

Does Oliver have the strength to fight the betrayed Vladula clan and a legion of angry vampire eaters? Can he resist his hunger for Miranda, knowing to succumb to passion could kill them both?

Eater of Vampires—book one in the Oliver Ripley, Vampire Slayer series—is a gripping, erotic tale of forbidden love and suspense that will grab you by the throat, set your pulse racing, and not let you go until the very last page. READ CHAPTER ONE - Vacancy