here?" Jakes asked in a cracking voice.
"The apocalypse," I guessed. "Only World War III isn't about Nukes and Daisy Cutters, pup." Not yet, anyway! Sooner or later, someone's going to decide to try an incinerate them all. Then all bets are off. It will be the MOAB then and nothing less. "It's the war with the vampires."
"Very good," one of the undead answered in a heavy accent.
The ring took one step toward us, and twenty- six crosses came up in unison. They stopped, and the leader scowled at us.
"Just what I'd expect from an American," he spat. "But, how long can you hold out against us?"
I didn't answer, my mind working hard at that. At this longitude, we'd have only a few hours of sunlight per day. Those would probably be best spent sleeping safely. If we went south, we'd gradually gain equal days. If we stayed north, we'd ping pong between the long winter and the bright summer. Either way, we'd be hunted to extinction eventually.
"Petty Officer Len?" Jakes pleaded, his hands shaking.
"Yes, Petty Officer Len," the lead vampire chuckled. "How long can you hold out?"
I smiled, the same manic smile I'd used to scare off JOs on the MSP when I was about to do something highly illegal. The vampire's smile faltered. He was playing with a master, and it was time he learned what a real monster I could be.
"We have tradesmen of all sorts and training to boot." My hand landed on Jakes' shoulder. "And, we like Italian food. Can eat it every damn day." If it meant getting the upper hand for a while, we'd live on garlic bread. I was certain we could find stores of garlic in the ruins. It wasn't like they would touch the stuff, after all.
I met the undead eyes, staring me down. "How long will we fight you? Until we have only a bullet left for each of us, Dracula. Take it to the bank.
"And if any of you are stupid enough to attack us... We've killed your kind before, but try it. You see, we have a couple of mottos we live by. The first goes 'Stupidity should be painful'."
"And the other?" he growled, his eyes a hotter shade of red that warmed my resolve.
"Everything's funny until somebody dies. Then it's fucking hysterical. Eighty-three men have died in the last couple of weeks. I should probably warn you that none were my own."
He backed off a step, scenting the madness of a Nuke submariner in full bloom. Oh, yes. This was one challenge I was more than looking forward to. Seeing the vampire die would be more than hysterical, and enlisted Nukes are anything but stupid.
The End
About the Author
Brenna Lyons wears many hats, sometimes all on the same day: former president of EPIC, author of more than 100 published works, owner of Fireborn Publishing, columnist, special needs teacher, wife, mother...and member in good standing of more than 60 writing advocacy groups.
In her first ten years published in novel-length, she's won 3 EPIC e-Book Awards (out of 15 finalists) and finaled for 3 PEARLS (including one Honorable Mention, second to NY Times Bestseller Angela Knight), 2 CAPAS, and a Dream Realm Award. She's also taken Spinetingler's Book of the Year for 2007.
Brenna writes in 26 established worlds plus stand-alones, poetry, articles and essays. She's a bestseller in indie/e fantasy and horror, straight genre and cross-genres thereof. Brenna has been termed "one of the most deviant erotic minds in the publishing world…not for the weak." (Rachelle for Fallen Angels Reviews) Milieu-heavy dark work is practically Brenna's calling card, with or without the erotic content.
She teaches classes in everything from POV studies to advanced editing, networking to marketing. Brenna enjoys hearing from people who read her work and can be reached by e-mail.
Website: http://www.brennalyons.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/brenna.lyons
Email : [email protected]
Also by this Author
Available from Fireborn Publishing
KEIF'S DEN AND PACK
Keif's Pack
Mother of the Keif
Keif's Den
"The apocalypse," I guessed. "Only World War III isn't about Nukes and Daisy Cutters, pup." Not yet, anyway! Sooner or later, someone's going to decide to try an incinerate them all. Then all bets are off. It will be the MOAB then and nothing less. "It's the war with the vampires."
"Very good," one of the undead answered in a heavy accent.
The ring took one step toward us, and twenty- six crosses came up in unison. They stopped, and the leader scowled at us.
"Just what I'd expect from an American," he spat. "But, how long can you hold out against us?"
I didn't answer, my mind working hard at that. At this longitude, we'd have only a few hours of sunlight per day. Those would probably be best spent sleeping safely. If we went south, we'd gradually gain equal days. If we stayed north, we'd ping pong between the long winter and the bright summer. Either way, we'd be hunted to extinction eventually.
"Petty Officer Len?" Jakes pleaded, his hands shaking.
"Yes, Petty Officer Len," the lead vampire chuckled. "How long can you hold out?"
I smiled, the same manic smile I'd used to scare off JOs on the MSP when I was about to do something highly illegal. The vampire's smile faltered. He was playing with a master, and it was time he learned what a real monster I could be.
"We have tradesmen of all sorts and training to boot." My hand landed on Jakes' shoulder. "And, we like Italian food. Can eat it every damn day." If it meant getting the upper hand for a while, we'd live on garlic bread. I was certain we could find stores of garlic in the ruins. It wasn't like they would touch the stuff, after all.
I met the undead eyes, staring me down. "How long will we fight you? Until we have only a bullet left for each of us, Dracula. Take it to the bank.
"And if any of you are stupid enough to attack us... We've killed your kind before, but try it. You see, we have a couple of mottos we live by. The first goes 'Stupidity should be painful'."
"And the other?" he growled, his eyes a hotter shade of red that warmed my resolve.
"Everything's funny until somebody dies. Then it's fucking hysterical. Eighty-three men have died in the last couple of weeks. I should probably warn you that none were my own."
He backed off a step, scenting the madness of a Nuke submariner in full bloom. Oh, yes. This was one challenge I was more than looking forward to. Seeing the vampire die would be more than hysterical, and enlisted Nukes are anything but stupid.
The End
About the Author
Brenna Lyons wears many hats, sometimes all on the same day: former president of EPIC, author of more than 100 published works, owner of Fireborn Publishing, columnist, special needs teacher, wife, mother...and member in good standing of more than 60 writing advocacy groups.
In her first ten years published in novel-length, she's won 3 EPIC e-Book Awards (out of 15 finalists) and finaled for 3 PEARLS (including one Honorable Mention, second to NY Times Bestseller Angela Knight), 2 CAPAS, and a Dream Realm Award. She's also taken Spinetingler's Book of the Year for 2007.
Brenna writes in 26 established worlds plus stand-alones, poetry, articles and essays. She's a bestseller in indie/e fantasy and horror, straight genre and cross-genres thereof. Brenna has been termed "one of the most deviant erotic minds in the publishing world…not for the weak." (Rachelle for Fallen Angels Reviews) Milieu-heavy dark work is practically Brenna's calling card, with or without the erotic content.
She teaches classes in everything from POV studies to advanced editing, networking to marketing. Brenna enjoys hearing from people who read her work and can be reached by e-mail.
Website: http://www.brennalyons.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/brenna.lyons
Email : [email protected]
Also by this Author
Available from Fireborn Publishing
KEIF'S DEN AND PACK
Keif's Pack
Mother of the Keif
Keif's Den
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