Welcome to the 7th annual A to Z Blog Challenge in April!
Come back daily for more exciting posts and even some giveaways!
Today is V for Vampire
She says the idea came about during a pitch session. " An agent asked if I could write a
vampire story, so of course I said yes. I was intrigued by the idea, and wanted to do something
totally different."
It was a switch since Justes usually writes romantic suspense with romantic settings like Paris, Bath and Venice, but she decided to try it.
"Since I've never read any paranormal stuff, I immersed myself
in the genre, and started reading both urban fantasy and romance," she says. "The agent
wanted art and vampires through the ages, but I did it from the point of view of
one vampire, and one masterpiece. I enjoyed it so much, that I’m now writing a sequel. "
About the Book:
Leonardo da Vinci meets master vampire, Nikolai Volkov. The
Mona Lisa tormented him in the past, and plays a pivotal part in Nikolai’s life
in modern times, when she threatens the woman he loves above all.
****
His attempt to destroy her failed, and she hid her
essence in a crack in her own portrait. Leonardo da Vinci, the consummate professional,
painted over the split in the wooden plank, and
ensnared her in the painting. Mona
Lisa was trapped.
Undetected, no longer corporeal, but pure energy, the
evil spirit imprisoned for centuries, obsessed by the vampire she turned, gains
strength and plots her ultimate revenge.
Now living in the twenty-first century, Nikolai knows
she seeks escape. He must at all cost, protect Devane Redding from the ancient
demon, who wants to possess him once again, and destroy his only chance at
happiness with the sculptor he loves above all.
Will he succeed in keeping his hard earned freedom?
Can he destroy the demon before she destroys his life, and kills the one woman
who matters? Will he even recognize the new
corporeal entity that holds her energy?
** Comment about your favorite vampire and why for a chance to win 1 of 2 ebook copies of Blood Art. Be sure to include an email to contact you.
Excerpt from Chapter One of Blood Art:
Florence, Italy 1503
“I am a vampire,
Leonardo.”
“I am well aware
of that fact Nikolai, but you have the soul of an artist.”
“I repeat. I am a
vampire. And make no mistake—I have no soul.”
As a course for survival,
Nikolai lost his soul centuries ago, but there was no reason in belaboring the
point. Leonardo da Vinci was entitled to his belief.
Nikolai stood in
the middle of the cavernous room and looked around him. Flickering candles cast
shadows on the walls. A massive wooden desk was shoved against bare brick, one
end piled with old rags coated in deep and rich colors. Leonardo's palette lay
on the floor recklessly abandoned, and paint splashes had spilled onto the
wooden floor, filling the wide cracks between the boards. A stale oil smell
permeated the room; used candles were everywhere, surrounded by mounds of spent
wax. A few books were stacked up on the floor against another wall, one on top
of the other. An old wooden chair pushed against a corner, stained with crimson
paint; the cushion looked like a splash of blood. A tapestry covered the wall
where a makeshift straw bed lay on the floor.
“I repeat. You, my
dear friend, have the soul of an artist. Vampire or not.”
“I collect art,
hence our deep and abiding friendship—all due to your masterful accomplishments.
I have no other such talents. At least, other than being eternal, ageless, and
have an uncanny ability to amass a fortune at every opportunity. Typical
vampire standards; anything I want, when I want, and how I want. Staying alive
for eons does allow one to become complacent. Despite the danger, eternal
existence does permit certain pleasures. And for me, the building of a sizable
art collection is most gratifying, and a venture which I intend to continue
through the ages.” The brusque, low voice was mesmerizing in its intensity, and
hid any emotion, any visible trace of anguish. He simply stated these facts as
if they were nothing, and common.
Nikolai Volkov watched as
Leonardo picked up burned out candles and stray brushes he had left everywhere.
“Nikolai, you
support artists that are being ignored, ridiculed. You redeem us. You recognize
ageless talent. I am egotistical enough to say that in the coming centuries I
will survive through my art.”
“Of that I have no
doubt. Again, that is why I collect your paintings; your drawings alone are
incomparable. I know you will survive. And you will increase my wealth
substantially.” Nikolai turned and looked at the various paintings leaning
against one of the stone walls. In the corner canvases were stacked in no
particular order, and next to them wooden planks.
Leonardo's studio
was plain, utilitarian, and filled with finished and unfinished works of art,
all of which Nikolai coveted and wanted to own. Possess.
“Yes, I am sure I
will survive, but only through my art. You have and will continue to survive
through other means. Ones I do not wish to think about.”
“I have paid
dearly for my survival.” Nikolai touched his cheek, feeling the ridge of the
deep scar on his face. That attack had been particularly brutal. The cut went
all the way to the bone, and not allowed to heal. Lucrezia Borgia told him it
would mar his stunning beauty and further bind him to her, both physically and
emotionally. She was wrong on both counts. He considered the scar his badge of
courage and tenacity.
His surreal
beauty, as she had once described it, now marred by that one scar. A reminder
of torture. A memory not to be forgotten. Vampires do not scar, yet that one
single scar on his body remained, as if an omen of things yet to come.
Centuries of memories all held within that singular ridged cut on his face that
slashed down to his very soul. The one he claimed not to have.
He was tall, over
six-foot-three, with hair black as night. His eyes were as blue as sapphires
and frigid as the Arctic ice. Nikolai was built hard, like Michelangelo's
David, and just as cold.
The lethal
combination fostered first and foremost fear from man and demon alike. And
admiration, from women. All women. He never lacked for company. Yet, they all
left him unsatisfied, and yearning for something he didn’t understand.
“Leonardo, will
you paint a portrait for me?” Nikolai spoke quietly, staring at a painting
stacked against a wall, his back to Leonardo.
“You?”
“No. Not me.”
Nikolai replied, his bleak smile was more of a grimace that did not reach his
eyes. “This will be from memory. My memory.”
“Does she mean
something to you? I assume you are speaking of a woman.”
“Yes, I was. And
yes, she meant something to me.” He ran his finger along the jagged scar.
“Ah, I see. I
gather she was not a pleasant memory.”
“You gather
correctly.”
“I will do it for
you. Tell me everything you know about her. Every single memory. Every
movement. Everything you remember. Give me a perfect description of the
mysterious woman. It will be my gift to you.”
“I do not wish to
keep the painting.” Nikolai visibly shuddered at the thought. “You may do with
it what you will. Burn it in hell for all I care.” His reply was savage.
“I see.” Leonardo
replied thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “Why do you want me to paint it?”
“To exorcise a
demon. One among many.”
“Do you wish to
discuss it, my friend?”
“No. Just paint
the damn thing. You will be well paid.”
“No,” Leonardo
replied vehemently, shaking his hand in the air. “There will be no money
changing hands. I will paint it. I will not burn it; I will sell it. I do have
a payment to demand of you. Once I am done, I expect to hear why I painted it.
That is my demand. Do you agree?”
“Yes, damn you. I
will agree to your terms. Your absurd demand.”
--- Get Blood Art for the rest of chapter one.
** Don't forget to comment for the contest! Include an email to contact you.
