Carrion Comfort

If it wasn't her blood, he had no desire for it. Emily had come to the understanding that even the undead, had desires and cravings. For her, it was the way he had come to crave the richness of her blood and the cold but satisfactory feeling it brought her.

Caitlynn Nocella is human. She bleeds, she feels empathy for cute things like kittens in a teacup, she's optimistic and bubbly, and she forgives easily. Blaise Jacobson is a ghoul. A hot-head cocky and careless ghoul who feeds on human flesh once a fortnight and is blunt as hell. When Blaise saves Caitlynn from being killed by ghouls, he inadvertently drags her into a world of ghouls and humans combined. Suddenly everything is different and the ghouls she meet aren't exactly your typical 'monsters hiding in the closet'. Falling for a ghoul is hard, especially when you know how hot-headed and damaged he is, but maybe Caitlynn could change that, but at what cost?

There are monsters in this world. And they used to be us. Now it's time to euthanize to survive in a hospice where Emily, a woman haunted by her past, only wants to do her job and be the best mother possible. Post-infection Chicago. Christmas. Inside The Hospice, Emily and her fellow nurses do their rounds. Here, men and women live out their final days in comfort, segregated from society, and are then humanely terminated before fate turns them into marrow-craving monsters known as ‘Smilers.’ Outside these imposing walls, rabid protesters swarm with signs, caught up in the heat of their hatred. Emily, a woman haunted by her past, only wants to do her job and be the best mother possible. But in a world where mortality means nothing, where guns are drawn in fear and nobody seems safe anymore – at what cost will this pursuit come? And through it all, the soon to be dead remain silent, ever smiling. Such is their curse. It won't be long before that snow-speckled ground will be salted by blood. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

I was born into a line of vampire hunters, but I was hopeless at it. I couldn't pass a single trial, couldn't make a single kill, so my family dumped me in the countryside and left me to rot. When they brought me back at eighteen, they packaged me up and handed me to the vampire noble Lucian von Karstein as his lowest blood-slave. I had already made my peace with being drained dry and tortured to death. He turned out to be nothing like what I expected. He built me a villa with good light. Every morning before dawn he went out to the garden and picked flowers still wet with dew, and left them by my pillow. When his family ordered him to kill me, he gave up five hundred years of glory for my sake. He surrendered his power, his title, his castle. He traded everything he had to keep me safe, and in the end he ran with me, away from the whole vampire world. But there was a curse in my blood. Every time I let myself feel something for him, it punished me, gnawing my heart to pieces one inch at a time. So all I could do was call him useless, force him to buy me jewelry, drive him away from my bed, and humiliate him every way I knew how. He ended up living in the garage, hauling cargo to survive, supporting a spoiled, vicious wife who treated him like dirt. One night I crept into his little partition and pulled back his collar. There was a burn the length of my hand, gotten from hauling freight day and night just to buy me a gift. I hid in the bathroom and ran the tap to cover the sound of crying. Dabbing ointment on the wound, sniffling, I asked the thing in my blood: "Curse. When is he finally going to hate me and leave?" The curse looked at the back of his hand, wet where my tears had fallen, then at the faint tremor of his lashes, and sighed. He's going to love you for the rest of his life.

I wasn’t meant to survive. My sister killed me, and I should have stayed dead. Instead, I woke in Lenore, a nightmare kingdom built on blood and lies. Here, monsters wear human faces, and Hunters like me are forced into a system that counts every kill and punishes every weakness. They gave me a body that isn’t mine. A name that isn’t mine. A life I never chose. And now I can’t run. I can’t escape. I can only fight… and hunger. Because it isn’t just the monsters that consume me. It’s the men who circle too close. One forged from shadows, dangerous in his silence, the kind of man whose restraint makes me want to shatter it. The other drips temptation like poison, every word a sin, every touch a fire I shouldn’t survive, and yet I reach for him anyway. I shouldn’t need them. I shouldn’t crave them. But I do. God, I do. And while I’m torn between danger and desire, Lenore itself is tearing apart. The Houses want me erased. The monsters want my blood. And the truth of who I really am will destroy everything.

I used to live my life believing that there was something corrupted within me. I had never felt comfortable walking in the searing, bright daylight. It felt as if I didn't belong there. Is that why I felt this sudden attraction to a man who seemed to be the embodiment of darkness? Ashtar Malachious resembled the sum of my sexual fantasies. The shades surrounding him were like a captivating essence. Others called him the predator, the fallen, or the death. I knew that, but my eyes saw him differently. He saved my life in more than a literal way. He seduced me, slowly enticing all my senses. He showed me what a touch could feel like. He let me taste the pleasure I had never thought existed. The one thing he wanted from me was my blood. I knew that if I gave it to him, it would be along with my body, heart, and soul. His irresistible aura blinded me to the dangers that surrounded me. Like a moth to the flame, I stepped closer until the hellfire licked my flesh. Then the wicked flames revealed the cruelest truth—this love kills. In the end, one of us will die.