After several months of writing, screaming, deleting, and rewriting, I’m finally nearing the end of my first novel. *cue triumphant music* In celebration of this approaching milestone, here is the synopsis (and a little excerpt) of Útiseta:
The shortcut had seemed like a good idea at the time. But a cemetery is no place to be after dark. Especially for a Seer—a human gifted with the power to call upon the Dead. For Griffin Amante, this night would change his life forever. Instead of partying the night away at his best friend’s bachelor party, Griffin makes contact with a woman he’s pretty sure is no longer among the living.
But the bad news doesn’t stop there: It just so happens that his newfound ability has put a target on his back, and not just any target. Before he knows it, Griffin is being stalked by one of the most powerful creatures known to man. And it wants to take not only his life, but his very soul.
Viking vampire Sibyl Ellis has lived a very long time. And, in all that time, she has been consumed by one singular ambition: to destroy the creature that tore her family apart and, in so doing, to free her mother’s soul from endless turmoil. After centuries of searching, she’s finally found the key, the one thing that just might help her accomplish her goal: a Seer.
That is, if she can keep him alive long enough.
Chapter 10: Afturganga (One Who Walks After Death)—Excerpt
“What are they?” Griffin asked in horror as the hoard began to descend on them.
The encroachers were made up of both men and women. Some tall, some short, some old, some young. There was no uniformity in their attire either: from what Griffin could make out in the spotty illumination of the overhead lamps, some wore dresses or jeans or even suits. Regardless, they all had one key similarity: they all looked ready for the kill.
Most were unarmed, but a few carried knives, daggers, or even small axes. The metal glinted menacingly off the streetlamps as they banged their weapons together in glee.
“Draugar,” Sibyl answered.
“Why does that name sound familiar?”
“As much as I’d love to explain,” Sibyl responded dryly. “We don’t exactly have a whole lot of time right now.”
“What do they want?”
Griffin turned to look behind him. More of the draugar were gathering there; even more of their ranks were fanning out to box him and Sibyl in.
“Uh…Sibyl. I think we’ve got a problem.”
“I know. Stay behind me. I’ll take care of them.”
“There are at least forty of them! We don’t stand a chance.”
He could see her shoulders shaking slightly; a low sound escaped her lips. She was…laughing? Griffin swore. She was definitely laughing.
“She’s insane,” Griffin said aloud, preparing to count down the final seconds of his life.
Reaching inside her black bomber jacket, she produced two long, thin seax blades. He watched in horror as she then began to approach the throng of attackers.
“Sibyl, no! They’ll kill you!”
He held his breath and waited for first her, then himself, to be slaughtered. But the moment he’d been dreading never came. What came instead was a display of mastery and physical prowess the likes of which he’d never before seen.
As Sibyl approached, the group closed in around her. He could see now that only a few were sporting armaments. What they lacked in weaponry, however, they made up for sheerly by the merit of their own gruesomeness. Their outward appearance, however, didn’t seem to faze Sibyl in the slightest. On the contrary, he got the distinct impression that their general visual unpleasantness was part of their appeal.
As if on cue, they descended on her. Though he’d only just met her, he could tell that Sibyl was in her element. Something told him that the battlefield was where she truly shined. She moved among her attackers like an apparition—hacking, slashing, and parrying with equal parts ferocity and elegance.
After she’d taken out at least six of them, an axe-wielding man stepped out in front of the others, brandishing his weapon with obvious skill. He raised the axe above his head, swinging its blade in a wide arc toward Sibyl. Deftly, she ducked out of the way, turned on her heel, and set to work with her own blades. In no time, the axeman dropped.
She must have killed at least fifteen of them; the rest began to flee before his eyes. When they were out of sight and Sibyl finally turned to face him, she seemed almost disappointed at their departure.
Her face, even paler in the moonlight, was streaked with blood. It was impossible to be sure with her all-black attire, but he could only imagine that her clothes must have also been soaked with it.
As he stood staring at her, wide-eyed and blinking, Griffin felt fear and confusion overwhelm him. They’d been attacked by forty cemetery-stalking psychos. They should be dead right now. It was nothing short of a miracle they’d survived. Actually, he thought, it wasn’t the situation that was miraculous. It was her—the enigmatic woman who’d just saved his life. She was the miracle.