Anthony Paolucci's Blog

My old man, Bobby Travello, was the meanest mother fucker you ever met – if you got on his bad side. Don’t get me wrong, he never beat me or my brother. Nothing like that. He was just the type of guy who didn’t let anyone get away with anything that either disrespected him or anyone he gave a shit about. The kind of person we all wish we could be, but we’re too big of pussies. None of this means that I ever wanted to grow up and be like him – not at all. He was a miserable, penniless bastard, w...

Venice, Italy 2013

From the table of an outdoor café, where passes an endless parade of life, I observe a fair and common example of what it means to be alive. Scurrying along the roadside, a rat follows the scent of something deliciously repugnant. No one vouches for this lowly beast, or provides it with the sustenance it craves. It is both literally and profoundly alone. The creature is one among thousands that thrive in this urban wilderness. It has been given the same chances at life, endow...

Chapter One

A VAST SNOWY PLAIN, relentlessly assaulted by pounding winds, desolation, and hardship, stretches across a treeless tundra. In the background, a wall of mountains rises up, creating a false barricade against the harsh climate. These white-tipped peaks give me a feeling of comfort regardless, and I feel guarded against whatever horrors lie beyond the rocky horizon. The sky seems trapped in a perpetual state of gray, one that will segue to black once night falls. The light of the st...

Prologue

They say that love is blind. I would say that it’s at least partially deaf. Maybe completely deaf—I’m not sure. For years, I all but shouted into the universe that I was in love with my best friend Logan, but do you think anyone was listening? Nope. The universe was far too busy paying attention to all the bigwigs on Wall Street hoping their stocks in vape sticks would take off.

THEY SAY THAT LOVE is blind. I would say that it’s at least partially deaf. Maybe completely deaf—I’m not su...

Prologue

Stratford, Connecticut, 1651.

A sea of stern and anxious faces glared back at the helpless maiden, whose bonds fastened her securely to the tall wooden pole that stood in the village square. In the lines of her audience’s expressions could be read both fear and disdain; the girl needed to die in order for them to feel safe again, and salvation could not come too quickly. Scarred with the black smears of burned heathens past, the wood felt cold against her back, merely a thin gown separ...

Chapter One

From the chair in front of his bedroom window, Valentine received the first rays of the rising sun. The warm morning air blew in from the ocean and spilled over his waking form. His dark curls folded back against his head, and Valentine closed his eyes, relishing the sensation of the wind’s kiss with all the adoration of a faithful lover. The hairs of his short beard were tickled by this tender caress, and the skin of his bare chest, recently washed, prickled slightly in response. H...

Chapter One

Five hundred years ago, the world was a very different place. A war-torn land, distant and without name, stood on the brink of self-destruction. Daily were the soils of this place watered with the blood of fallen warriors, both human and inhuman, their cries of both victory and defeat as common as was once the sound of songbirds in the morning. Despite the obvious differences in power, the vampire with their magical and immortal selves, and the humans with only their wits and ingenu...

Chapter One

There came a pounding knock at the door. Or was it merely the sound of the loud, sharp pain throbbing in his head? Did he even remember what a door was? It had been so long. He had no real concept of time, save when the light of day became the blackness of night. The weeks and months had run into each other ages ago, becoming one continuous stretch of passing hours. Had it been years? Not even the seasons gave him any indication of how long he had remained as he was. It was as if h...

Chapter One

Eve had never seen so much blood.

Her father was not only the village physician but also the constable, and the people with whom she shared the village were not always discreet in their criminal activities. Oftentimes, whether spurred on by drink or their own savage nature, they were downright bestial. Though, more often than not, these crimes were committed by strangers, drifters, or travelers who saw the village as a brief respite on their way to someplace more exciting. These peo...