Mark your calendars for Friday, May 31st, 2024 because that's when I'm releasing the first book in the 'History of the Dragans' series. It's part of the ongoing 'Vampire Formula' series.
The first book is called 'The Rise of the Dragans'.
This is meant to be read after you finish the four main books in the 'Vampire Formula' series.
'The Birth of Vengeance', 'The Truth of Vengeance', 'The Enemies of Vengeance', 'The War of Vengeance'.
Thorn writes the history of the Dragans to explain herself to V and leave a record for future generations. Check out the tale of the original four Dragans: Raven, Darius, Qiulong, and Giovanni.
The book is a series of short stories depicting key scenes in their evolution.



Each month, we have the next part of the trilogy, 'History of the Dragans'.
• The Fall of the Dragans
• Thorn
Don't read this book before the 'Vampire Formula' series or you'll ruin the surprise. It's a prequel that fills in the gaps. It picks up where book four, 'The War of Vengeance', left off.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0D2XY4VRN
Sample: Prologue

Thorn sat at a computer in the basement of her house. Herraven tousled hair tied back to keep it off her face while she typed. On hernose, she had perched a pair of glasses with no lenses. Somehow, wearing theframes set her in the mood, like putting on the alter ego of a writer.

She kept cool by wearing a white vest top and shorts.Normally, she never wore white against her snowy pale skin, as it made herlooked washed out. But now her skin had some colour, it created a contrast,which she liked.

The basement was bare brick walls, exposed wooden beamceilings and an array of metal pipes for water and heating. She pretended itwas on purpose, post-urban chic. The foundations of the urban setting on fulldisplay. The truth of the house exposed; just as she exposed the truth of herlife onto paper. It seemed poetic to write in such surroundings. A constantreminder of her literary mission to expose all.

Really, she had wanted the basement fully decorated,the walls and ceilings plastered and painted, but there hadn’t been time. Sheneeded the shelter it offered for visitors on the sunniest days.

However, they had time to put down a thick grey carpetto allow Rose to crawl upon. A double bed in the centre of the room, TV on thecupboards, fridge to the side, a small en-suite toilet, and her computer deskon wheels. The small windows had been painted black to block out the sun, andbare wooden stairs led up to the kitchen. The room unheated to suit a dragan’shigh body heat. A perfect hide away from the sunlight and a quiet space towork.

She pressed save on the document file and took a sipof red wine. She enjoyed writing about her history. It was therapy to get itall down and recorded somewhere. The act of retelling her history had helpedmake sense of it all. Even writing her mistakes felt good. It was a purge ofher sins and part of her redemption. A chance to tell it in her own wordswithout interference. To recognise her past mistakes and moments of glory.

Hopefully, others would understand upon reading it.Why she did; what she did. The full history and explanation of her actions.There was too much to retell verbally, as too much that could be missed. Bysetting it to paper, she ensured nothing was left out, and the reader wouldn’tmiss anything when they read the words and brought them to life in theirimagination.

In her extended lifetime, she had met many writers. Mostnotably, Bram Stoker. She wasn’t claiming any inspiration over their writing.She had gone to visit them after they had written their famous stories. Uponher visit, she gave them a little surprise of a Dragan's features and told themof Dragans, vampires, and werewolves, but wiped their memory afterwards. Shehad tried to learn from them, as she always had it in mind to scribe her ownstory one day. She knew her story would not meet the same standard, but shehoped at least to educate.

The door at the top of the basement creaked open andfeet stamped down the wooden stairs. Thorn span around in her chair and stoodup to greet her visitors. “Hi, Annabel. Hi, Rose.”

Annabel stepped off the bottom step and around theconcealing wall. She held a baby dressed in a white grow in her arms. The babyreached out to Thorn and struggled to be set free. Annabel put the Rose on thefloor, and she crawled across the grey carpet, past the double bed and up to Thorn.

“Sorry, I know you were working, but she was lookingfor you,” Annabel said and pulled her hoodie tight, flicking the hood over herlong blonde hair, tucking her hair inside, and then wrapped her arms aroundherself.

“I know. I sensed her thoughts and heard the basementdoor rattling.”

“She knew where you were. I took her away and tried todistract her, but she kept crawling back to the door, trying to open it.”

Thorn leaned down and scooped the baby into her arms.“It’s fine. I have just finished the first part.”

“Excellent. I would love to read it.”

“Of course, I need someone to check it. And it wouldbe useful for you to understand our history while helping us settle inAmerica.”

“Send it over and I will read it. I would love tounderstand more about the Dragans,” Annabel said, and stroked Rose's hair whilethe baby pulled at Thorn’s vest top straps.

“That is a good idea. It will be useful for you tounderstand our history and therefore our future. This first part covers thecreation and rise of the Dragans. My parents used to tell me their history as abed-time story. I want it documented for Rose,” Thorn said, and looked down ather baby. Rose looked up with her ice-blue eyes, and Thorn stroked her thincurly raven hair. Rose smiled, her eyes crinkling in delight. Thorn saw V’sface, Rose’s father, in that smile and red tears welled up.

“Do you still want a copy sent to V?”

Thorn nodded, not taking her eyes off her baby and thesmile of V beaming back. “He needs to understand his history. I planned to tellhim everything after the battle and then at the Chateau after his escape fromMI5, but it wasn’t meant to be. I must find another way now in America, but Ihave to keep our location a secret. We can’t afford direct contact with himelse MI5 will find out I am still alive. I will have to settle for sending himthese histories instead.”

“No problem. We will deliver these stories into hishands. Then he can understand what and why it happened. Why you had to lie tohim about who you really were and your true mission. I am sure he will comeback after reading them and seeing the bigger picture.”
“Maybe,” she said, smiled and wiped her red tears away.
Read in full  -  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0D2XY4VRN