It’s time for another #BookBirthday! I am thrilled to announce that Cwtch Press‘s Blood in the Rain 3 has just been released. There are nineteen smoldering short stories featuring vampires included in this collection, and I have to say that it’s perfect for Halloween.

I haven’t read Bram Stoker’s Dracula, nor have I seen the film Nosferatu. As a child, I read the Cirque du Freak series by Darren Shan. Like every teenager in 2008, I read the Twilight series and was briefly enchanted with cold, pale Edward. This past year, I read Jeaniene Frost’s Night Prince series. What I’m trying to say is that I’m loosely familiar with the hallmarks of our current interpretations of vampires, and I find them both intriguing and disappointing.

See, the vampires in our imagination are strong, uncompromising, protective, almost obscenely alpha men. And honestly, for escapist literature, that’s totally OK! I, however, was drawn to Cwtch Press’s series because I wanted to explore a woman who happens to be a vampire. Typically, female vampires are treated as recently deflowered virgins: the changing from human to vampire is similar to a loss of virginity on the part of the woman, and it’s almost always perpetuated by the male vampire hero. Again, that’s totally fine. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?

However, I was interested in a female character that is introduced to the reader as a vampire. What would motivate her? Would she be a thrall, a loner, or a den mother? How long has she been a vampire? Does she have any crazy powers? Where is she, and do her non-vampire neighbors know about her? I answered these questions in the most logical way possible: my vampire is a wartime nurse in Scotland.

Fiona Reid works the night shift at a Scottish military hospital, which provides her cover for her need to feed on human blood. While there, she has a run-in with a man recovering from Monte Cassino named Sergeant Callum Oswell. So as to not spoil the rest of the story, I’ll simply say it’s a sexy tale with a bittersweet edge.

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Without further ado, here’s an excerpt of my original short story, His Angel of Death:

Sniffing, she pinpointed a man ripe to drain. He was in the middle of the ward, the stump

on his right leg seeping fluid, indicating infection. Soon, he would fall into a feverish state, and then an agonizing decay into eternal peace.

Fiona’s mouth watered.

She placed the bandages at the foot of his bunk and noticed the beads of sweat on his

face. He did not stir as she moved his head to expose his carotid artery. Dark stubble dotted his pale jaw and neck, but Fiona didn’t pay it any mind. She wiped off her lipstick and pushed the sharp teeth from her upper jaw. When they were exposed, she gently ran the tip of her tongue over each point.

God, I need this.

Leaning over him, she placed her hands on either side of his head, her fingers sinking into the lumpy pillow beneath. Her cheek brushed against his as she opened her mouth and covered the delicate skin of his neck. She licked the area, tasting the accumulation of sweat, dirt, and skin cells from four days without bathing. Her need was too great for her to be repulsed.

The man languished too deep in slumber to be aware of her. She glanced up at his face,

making sure he would not wake, then sank her teeth into him. His thin flesh gave way to the pressure of her fangs, and the blood flowed freely into her mouth and down her throat. It was thick, indicative of dehydration. She detected an acidic bite, which would be the infection; her superior immune system would clear it up immediately. Underneath the metallic taste, there was a meaty flavor to it; Fiona found it particularly

delicious. Must be Type B.

She needed to drain him quickly, for fear of discovery. As the flow slowed to a trickle,

and the man’s flesh lost most of its color, she gave a strong, final pull, and drew the last of the man’s blood. As with all her meals, she licked the puncture wounds, sealing them from prying eyes. When the body was discovered in the morning, it would be assumed that he’d succumbed to fever.

Fiona pushed herself from the bed and rearranged the body, placing the head straight and folding one heavy arm over the chest. She surveyed the neck, noticing that there hadn’t been any leaks from her meal. Keeping her condition discreet had always been paramount.

“What the hell did you do to him?”

Be sure to grab your copy of Blood in the Rain 3 here. Happy reading!