Novela Dracula Novels & Stories

“Think hard.” I put my arm around her and she fell against my chest. Dao-Ming handed her a tissue to wipe her eyes. After a few moments of tense silence, she began her story. “They whisper through den. No one knows truth for certain, but I believe is correct because I hear it many times from many vampires,” she said in slow, carefully enunciated words. “I will tell and then you will see why you can do nothing. “In the year fourteen-hundred and thirty-one, a son was born to noblewoman in Romania. She named him Vlad. He was son of Vlad who was member of Dracul order. This means Devil. Dracula is true son of devil.”

Andro has to fight to stay by his mate's side and fight off the new enemy waging a war against his family; his mafia family while protecting his identity as a vampire. CHAPTER ONE Annika’s POV In the chant of the black night, the stars were the choir, they were nights singing in an unusual pattern, singing a tone of death. Few minutes past ten, the once-cleared skies had transformed into a vast expanse of jet-black as the night laid down in a blanket of darkness.

On the other hand, my curiosity and the need to take my mind off of Sariel, Draven, and all the other issues overcame the potential threat. I grabbed a tissue and used it to open the book as if expecting the pages to be poisoned. I turned the first page and it turned out to be some old diary. I ran through a few entries. The handwriting I found on those pages was sophisticated and beautiful, while the entries themselves looked like historical notes. As I took a closer look, I saw the dates marked in the corners: they were all dated in the nineteenth century. As I read a couple more entries, I started to realize that the one who had written it was a noble… a vampire noble, a woman at that.

The doors from the dining room opened, and there walking with a deadly look, was the person who could kill any vampire and not think twice about doing it. The Count himself... Count Vladimir Dracula. Nolite mi- stop my dear Reversus es, amica mea-Your back my love

She was an extremely ticklish person. He turned her to face him and gave her a long hard kiss before pulling the blanket over them. *** Down below in the dining hall, Vlad, Hans and Thomas were sharing a bottle of Pinot Noir. Thomas had officially become Vlad’s number one fan after he found out that Vlad had been the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s Dracula. “What about Twilight? What do you think of it?” he asked, slightly tipsy from all the wine.

Lucan’s jaw tightened. “They won’t get the chance.” “There is only one place,” Dracula said. Lucan understood. “The Darklands.” Dracula nodded. “It is dangerous. Full of evil.” Lucan didn’t hesitate. “I don’t care.” Dracula stepped closer. “He needs time,” he said. Lucan nodded. “I understand.” Dracula looked at him seriously. “You must find every way to survive.” Lucan said nothing. “And before they come…” Dracula continued, “Before

Finally, she found the one she was looking for. Layla managed to grab the book and add it to her stack in her arms when her eyes caught sight of something. A book stood out among the rest. It was bound with dark brown leather and had brandished designs on the spine. The title read - Malleus Vampiro: A Treatise on Vampires. Placing her other books on the floor, Layla pulled the leather-bound book from its home amongst the others and opened it. As her eyes skimmed the pages, she caught a couple of words; SHADOW STALKERS, BLOODSUCKER, PHANTOMS.

Darcy had just warged into Cahir and the Grand Maester instead of the wolf and dog. “Darcy?” Ava’s voice was a strained whisper, but Darcy didn’t respond. She remained motionless, her red eyes fixed upon the men she now held captive. Axel, for a moment, forgot his fury, feeling a deep shiver as he witnessed the unleashed supernatural power of his daughter’s Lycan heritage. Darcy’s body didn’t respond. Her eyes remained blank, her face unmoving, as if frozen in time. Axel’s heart raced, panic creeping up his spine.

The storm rolled in sometime after midnight, thunder rumbling like a slow, angry drum over the hills. Nova sat curled on the velvet chaise in the sunroom, watching raindrops pattern the glass like Morse code. She hadn't been able to sleep, not after the dinner, not after hearing Damian's other name spoken aloud like a warning. Dacian Drăghici.

Drăculești is a covenant the blood remembers whether or not the church rewrites the book. I will not march Dennise out as Dracula’s offspring, I will let the rumor learn to walk. I will let enemies say it to make themselves feel brave, then I will make them right enough to choke. I, as the Progenitor, will rule. And I will smile because she is predictable. Elders confuse legacy for love.