LOGINIn the shadowed swamps of the South, where ancient cypress roots drink deep from the earth, something older and far more dangerous stirs. Rio never asked to be reborn into darkness, but as a fledgling vampire trained by the ruthless and alluring Odessa, he’s learned quickly that survival demands both strength and sacrifice. Haunted by the family he left behind, Rio carries the weight of his choices—yet he can’t ignore the fragile bond forming with Junie Elowen, a newly turned vampire whose bright green eyes hide grief, fear, and an untapped power that could change everything. Odessa’s control slips as her complicated attachment to Rio deepens, forcing him to question where loyalty ends and obsession begins. But greater threats rise when Cassian—an ancient vampire and Junie’s sire—emerges from the shadows, determined to claim what he believes is his. Power struggles ignite, alliances fracture, and the swamp itself seems to whisper warnings of blood yet to be spilled. A story of forbidden bonds, found family, and the price of power, Blood Beneath the Cypress is a dark, atmospheric tale where love and loyalty are as dangerous as the monsters lurking in the night.
View MoreThe floodwaters slammed against the plantation walls, roaring like a beast, carrying debris and splintered wood through mud-choked fields. The High Hunter advanced relentlessly, massive, calculating, red eyes locked on every flicker of movement.Lucien’s hands flared with gold energy, but this time, it wasn’t just raw force. He drew upon something deeper—something no one had ever seen before. His body began to glow, veins of golden light spreading across his skin, and a hum resonated through the air. The storm itself seemed to recognize it, lightning cracking closer, thunder vibrating in response.This was the Echo of Dominion, a power Lucien had never fully mastered, a surge that allowed him to manipulate not just energy but the very flow of chaos around him. He could bend the currents of the flood, twist debris midair, and momentarily freeze the High Hunter in a stasis of perception, making time slow around the monster while his body moved at normal speed.Odessa, deflecting a falli
The floodwaters hadn’t fully receded, and the plantation lay battered beneath a bruised sky. Mud-choked fields were strewn with debris—broken trees, splintered wood, fragments of smaller rebel houses floating across the swamp like drowned ghosts. Every step was a struggle through thick, cold water that pulled at boots, pants, and robes alike.Inside the main house, the witches worked frantically, hands weaving threads of energy that shimmered in the murky flood. Sparks danced across the water, twisting debris aside, bending it away from the weakest points in the structures. Each incantation was a desperate plea, a fragile line of defense holding the remnants of the plantation together.Lucien stood on the porch, scanning the chaos. “Thomas! Claude! Keep the rebels organized along the outer lines. Jules, make sure everyone—children, witches, anyone—reaches the safe house!”Thomas barked orders like a drill sergeant, grabbing a shivering young witch and shoving her behind a floating
The hurricane had passed Driskill Mountain hours ago, but the plantation below was still a chaos of floodwater and debris. Torrential rains had shredded the smaller rebel houses, and leaving two completely submerged, their walls collapsed and roofs floating away in pieces. Mud, wood, and twisted metal swept through the swampy fields, carrying with it the scent of destruction and fear.Lucien stood on the main house’s porch, cloak whipping around him as he surveyed the damage. His eyes were steady, scanning the remaining structures and the struggling rebels. Even soaked to the bone, he radiated calm authority.“We’ve lost two houses completely,” he said, voice tight but controlled. “Jules, get the survivors to the safe house. Claude, Thomas—reinforce the remaining structures and barricade what you can.”Jules, knee-deep in water near one of the surviving rebel houses, guided the shivering, soaked survivors toward higher ground. His dark cloak clung to him, but he didn’t falter. “Keep
Night had fallen over the plantation, heavy and suffocating, the hurricane’s roar magnified against the wide expanse of cypress and moss-draped oaks.The main house, fortified and warded, stood resilient against the lashing rain and screaming wind, but beyond its protective walls, chaos reigned.Two of the smaller rebel houses, hastily constructed, had already succumbed to the floodwaters. The swollen swamp had surged unexpectedly, tearing foundations apart. Wood splintered, walls collapsed, and the screams of the trapped and panicked echoed over the roaring water.Lucien stood at the edge of the main veranda, cloak soaked, boots sinking into mud, staring at the devastation. His jaw tightened. “Two houses gone. How many did they have in there?”Claude and Thomas were shouting over the wind, coordinating what survivors they could. “Check the eastern ridge! Everyone head that way!” Thomas’s voice cracked as a wall of water swept through what remained of the first house, carrying furnitu
Rain still hammered the cabin, relentless, as if the storm itself refused to sleep. Winds bent the trees outside at impossible angles, snapping branches and shaking the old timber structure.Inside, the cabin smelled of damp wood and magic—wards humming faintly, protective energy layered thickly ac
The shapeshifter shifted again, towering and humanoid yet inhuman. Its black, waterlike limbs flowed unnaturally around a skeletal frame.Its voice carried across the storm, cold and deliberate. “You think your little games have ended me? You’ve killed my handler. One of many. The High Hunters are
Night fell over the plantation, heavy and oppressive, the storm raging as if nature itself were furious. Rain pounded the roof, wind tore at the cypress trees, and the swamp churned beneath sheets of water and mud. The vampires had awakened to the roars of thunder, senses heightened, alert to every
The first hints of their “night” settled over the plantation. Though the swamp beyond the sandbagged riverbank was gray and storm-lashed, the household needed to settle inside. Dawn had just turned, marking the beginning of their resting and sleeping cycle, and with the storm raging outside, ventu












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