A Drop of Red: 4 - Brossura

Green, Chris Marie

Brossura

ISBN 10: 0441018947 ISBN 13: 9780441018949

Casa editrice: Ace, 2010

Riassunto

Follow the trail into Vampire Babylon...

When a new Vampire Underground is found in England, Hollywood stuntwoman-turned-vampire hunter Dawn Madison and her crack team are dispatched to carry the fight from the flash and dash of Los Angeles to the seemingly staid and stolid streets of London. Dawn knows by now how deceiving appearances can be-and she's about to find out that it's not only the beautiful people of Hollywood who are willing to bargain with evil.

Su questo libro

L'autore:

Chris Marie Green, former school teacher turned full-time writer, gets out of the office by taking long trips to places such as Japan, Italy, and New Orleans. When she’s not causing international incidents, she enjoys practicing yoga, taking part in fangirl movie and TV program analysis, and writing romance novels under the name Crystal Green.

Estratto. © Riproduzione autorizzata. Diritti riservati.:

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

 

ONE - WHEN YOU STRAY . . .

TWO - THE FEEDiNG

THREE - THE MYSTERiOUS WOMAN

FOUR - THE UNWELCOME

FIVE - THE WHiSPERiNG GROUND

SIX - LONDON BABYLON

SEVEN - THE MiSPLACED HEART

EIGHT - THE DUELING PSYCHiCS

NINE - THE HiGHGATE DiLEMMA

TEN - LONDON BABYLON

ELEVEN - THE TALL, THiN ONE

TWELVE - THE WickED STEPMOTHER

THIRTEEN - THE TAkEOVER

FOURTEEN - LONDON BABYLON

FIFTEEN - THE OUiJA INTERViEW

SIXTEEN - THE BLACK SPOT

SEVENTEEN - LONDON BABYLON

EIGHTEEN - THE SCHOOL FOR FiNE YOUNG GiRLS

NINETEEN - THE CALM BEFORE THE STORMiNG

TWENTY - . . . YOU SURELY PAY

TWENTY - ONE - THE EMERGENCE

TWENTY - TWO - LONDON BABYLON

TWENTY - THREE - THE RETURN

 

PRAISE FOR

MiDNiGHT REiGN

“With a dark, dramatic, and erotic tone, Green writes a complex story featuring well-defined characters and more than enough noir mystery to keep readers enthralled. Fans of Charlaine Harris and ⇒Jim Butcher may enjoy.”—Library Journal

 

“An exciting, high-tension horror thriller with enough unresolved trust and family issues to make it credible, a hint of romance for spice, and a bit of black humor to lighten up the often dark tone, this is a nicely conceived modern vampire tale that will keep readers guessing.” —Monsters and Critics

 

“An intriguing world that becomes more complex with every turn of the page . . . kick-butt action.”—Huntress Book Reviews

 

“Green has given her fans an inside look at the Underground culture and social class system, from the powerful Elite, bitten by the Master, to the lowly Guards, bitten by the Groupies . . . [a] fun urban-fantasy mystery.”—Alternative Worlds

 

“A fast-moving urban fantasy filled with murder, mystery, and a large dose of the supernatural. The vivid characterization and danger at every turn will keep readers engaged.”—Darque Reviews

 

“A dark, edgy, and complex series.”—Romantic Times

 

“A dark and thrilling paranormal tale . . . a gritty and suspenseful ride.”—Romance Reviews Today

PRAISE FOR
NiGHT RiSiNG

 

“A book to die for! Dark, mysterious, and edged with humor, this book rocks on every level!”

—Gena Showalter, author of The Darkest Pleasure

 

 

“If you like your fantasy with an edge, then you’ve struck gold. There is a ring of truth to the biting—no pun intended—allegory. This is a fantastic start to a new series.”—The Eternal Night

 

“Chris Marie Green does a wonderful job of bringing this gritty, dark novel to life . . . I can’t wait to see where [she] takes the rest of the books.”—The Best Reviews

 

“An exciting, action-packed vampire thriller. A fantastic tale that . . . provides book lovers with plenty of adventure and a touch of romance.” —Midwest Book Review

 

“Dawn makes a spunky vampire slayer.”—Publishers Weekly

 

“An interesting take on the vampire world . . . well written and exciting. I look forward to the next book.”

—The Romance Readers Connection

 

 

“A killer mystery . . . Bring on book two!”

—Kelley Armstrong, author of Made to Be Broken

Ace Books by Chris Marie Green

 

night rising
Midnight reign
BREAK OF DAWN
A DROP OF red

 

 

 

Anthologies

 

FIRST BLOOD
(with Susan Sizemore, Erin McCarthy, and Meljean Brook)

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
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(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
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(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
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(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
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South Africa

 

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

Copyright © 2009 by Chris Marie Green.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

ACE and the “A” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-01950-4

1. Madison, Dawn (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Women stunt performers—Fiction.
3. Vampires—Fiction. 4. Hollywood (Los Angeles, Calif.)—Fiction. I. Title.

 

PS3607.R4326D76 2009
813’.6—dc22
2008049490

 

To Sajen, Torrey, and Morgan.
I’ll love you forever.

While writing this next batch of books, I had lots of help, and I’d like to thank everyone who so kindly offered aid. First, there’s my “Kingswood crew”: Claire Ross from London Walks, who served as guide and driver; Alexander Ockwell, my student guide; Philippa Watts, who arranged my tour of Kingswood; Sally Cunliffe and David Hughes from the Kingswood English department and Darryl Harding from the drama department; and Angela Snelling, the welcoming receptionist. Thank you also to Dee Lim from Royal High School for her tour and her time. To each of you—I’m so lucky to have met you and learned from your store of knowledge. Also, thank you to “C. S.” for the use of what just might be his land around the fictional Queenshill.

I’d additionally like to extend my appreciation to the authors of the books that lent insight into this world, particularly Jack Zipes for editing The Trials & Tribulations of Little Red Riding Hood and Raymond T. McNally and Radu Florescu for In Search of Dracula. Thank you to Wally Lind and Paul from Thames Valley on the crimescenewriter web loop, as well as Ginjer Buchanan, Cameron Dufty, and the Ace staff, plus the Knight Agency. As always, I also owe a lot to Sheree Whitefeather and Judy Duarte, my incredible critique partners.

I’ve taken advantage of fictional license in some locations and historical details for the benefit of telling this story, and I claim any errors as my own.

Now, on to the hunt . . .

ONE

WHEN YOU STRAY . . .

IT was a night Kate Lansing would’ve ended up regretting.

If she had only survived to regret it.

At the moment, she was taking a numbing sip from her third cosmopolitan, her legs tucked under her on an Italian leather settee in a flat just outside of London’s financial district. Inadvertently mocking the last minutes of her life, which were ticking, ticking to an end, she tapped her fingers against the cocktail glass while an Amy Winehouse song played.

The raspberry taste in her mouth sent a giddy wave through her, and she dizzily smiled at a dancing redheaded girl across the lounge. Nearby, a second female—plump, quiet, with frizzy russet hair—sat in a chair, content to merely watch.

These were just two of the quick friends Kate had met tonight in a Brixton club, several tube stops away.

At the foot of Kate’s settee, two more of her new mates sat on the luxurious carpet while stretching their knee-high-booted legs out from under their identical long skirts. Like the other girls, their matching slender red ties were askew, their faces fashionably pale, their own cosmos untouched on a marbled table.

A fifth girl had gone to the loo and would return shortly.

They were all from the same exclusive school, they’d revealed under the throb and humidity of the dance lights after they’d used fake IDs to buy Kate and her friend Harry drinks. Then, as if a part of their club now, Kate and Harry had agreed to carry on the party here, where they said one of their cousins lived when he wasn’t traveling on business. Where they had let flow the liquor and turned the music on high. Where Harry had already gone upstairs to zonk out in a bedroom.

Where, even now, Kate didn’t have much longer to live.

“So tell us, Katie-luv,” said the girl with the long, sleek sable hair and vivid eyes that resembled her name. Violet. “With Harry cozy and warm upstairs, we girls can really chat.”

Kate nodded, her eyelids fighting a battle to stay open. Why did she seem so rat-arsed on alcohol while the rest of the group was as sober as judges?

Violet continued, voice all sweetness and light as she glanced at the curved stairway that led to the next floor, where Harry rested. “How’s the old boy in the shagging department?”

Kate coughed, and the abrupt gesture tilted her cosmo in her hand. As she righted the cocktail, she caught a warped view of Violet and the second girl—whatshername?—through the glass.

Kate shuddered at the bent vision, at their twisted smiles and piercing irises. She lowered the beverage, splashing it on her low-cut jumper in her clumsiness.

“Me and Harry?” she said in carefully enunciated drunk-speak while brushing at the wet stain on her chest. “We’re . . . chums. That’s all. No naughty involved.”

“Brilliant news,” Violet said. “He’s quite yummy, you know. You wouldn’t mind if I . . . ?”

The second girl, with her chopped-to-the-chin strawberry blond hair and a smattering of freckles, took up where the playful Violet had left off. “Vi, you wouldn’t dare keep all the fresh meat to yourself.”

They both giggled now, and Kate blinked, knowing she should join them. After all, Harry might welcome a bit of sport with a female who was actually interested. Kate had meant it when she said they were merely chums—even if Harry often pushed for more.

So why wasn’t she laughing, as well?

“Well then, Katie,” Violet said, leaning forward, her long hair spilling over a delicate shoulder. “How about other boys? Do you have any spicy stories there?”

Kate felt her skin heat, and at the telltale sign, Violet covered her mouth with a hand, pseudo-scandalized as she half hid another giggle.

“I believe the answer is no,” Whatshername said in a voice that belonged more on a grassy hockey field than in a posh flat. “Could we actually have genuine purity in our midst?”

“Please,” Violet said, cutting the coyness. “You could smell it on her at the club.”

Kate blinked at that, then decided it was only a turn of phrase.

“I just want to hear her say it,” Whatshername said. “Especially since she gave us that bad-girl story about having skipped away from Mummy and Daddy’s home only to take up with good old Harry. Doesn’t sound so innocent to me.”

Violet raised her brow, daring Kate to contradict them.

But Kate was still back at the part about her father. Earlier, when she had first become warm and pleasantly filled with drink, she had told her new mates that he’d died last year. Kate rarely saw any old friends now that school was done, so talking had been a relief.

Yet now, it was almost as if these girls had brought her father up because, somehow, they’d known it would hurt.

Perhaps it was in the way Violet and the other girl were watching her, their chins lowered. And when Violet’s eyes narrowed so that she reminded Kate of a cat—a purring little thing ready to pounce—the thought only gained credence.

“Oh, yes,” Violet said. “I remember now. Katie told us that Daddy’s passed on. Mummy, too.”

“She’s got a stepmum,” Whatshername said.

“Ah, the mean woman back home who kicked our Kate out because she’s become a touch too hard to handle lately. Nice mothering, that. But luckily, there was Harry to turn to.”

“Good old Harry,” the strawberry blonde echoed.

A cloud seemed to be closing over Kate—a hazy weight from the buzz of her cocktails pressing down on her chest, her head, her vision.

She didn’t want to be here with these girls anymore. They’d been amusing enough back at the club, but now?

Something had changed, making Kate feel mousy and cornered.

Something unnameable but there all the same. . . .

A great smashing sound rent the air, and Kate flinched, once again blinking at what she saw.

Across the room, the dancing redhead—wasn’t her name Noreen?—had . . .

Kate refocused her gaze. Noreen was swinging from a chandelier over seven meters off the floor, whooping and laughing as her quiet friend looked on with blasé interest.

How . . . ?

Kate swallowed. How had Noreen jumped that high? A chair? A table?

With one look round, Kate didn’t discover anything sufficient to have provided such a launch.

Both Violet and the strawberry blonde stood and ran to the action. And when Whatshername crouched, then zinged up to the other side of the chandelier herself, Kate’s jaw dropped.

The girl had jumped from the floor.

The room seemed to dip and sway as Kate grappled with explanations. Just how drunk was she?

Crystals banged together in demented chaos, and all of the schoolgirls clapped and urged their mates on.

Violet turned to Kate. “Join us, Katie? Come now!”

Kate couldn’t answer, couldn’t move.

The friendly smile Violet had been wearing melted.

Then, just as Kate’s heartbeat started filling her head, dampening it in cottony, far-removed throbs, she spotted something descending the stairs.

The fifth new friend, Blanche. Her normally alabaster skin was pink against her waist-long raven hair as she wiped her hand over her deep red lips.

It occurred to Kate that Blanche had been gone awhile. Had she been with Harry . . . ?

When Violet saw Blanche, the room went silent except for the music. The chandelier-swinging girls even dropped to the floor with shocking ease, then straightened, cool as the fog that kept muddling Kate’s mind.

But Violet’s bristling posture was far easier to understand as she stalked toward the staircase.

The ...

Su questa edizione

• Editore: Ace
• Data di pubblicazione: 2010
• ISBN 10: 0441018947
• ISBN 13: 9780441018949
• Rilegatura: Copertina flessibile
• Numero di pagine: 320