Night at the Alamo

By David Miller

On that fateful night of March the 6th, 1836, Saito Izumi, a centuries old vampire, tended to the sick and dying, chief among her charges; the legendary Colonel James Bowie.

But while General Santa Anna’s attack was no surprise, what swarmed over the walls of the old mission was anything but expected. And what Saito learned that night about honor and duty would change her forever—if she lives through the night.

A defining moment in American history featuring the vampire Saito Izumi
From the author of STONE OF DESTINY - Book One in the Irish Cycle Series

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dark Road Publishing
• Release date: Feb 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311703590

David Miller

David Donald Miller is currently employed at Raytheon Systems in Tucson, AZ, as a Principal Software Engineer. For more than 15 years he was a computer science professor at Bemidji State University (in Bemidji, MN), where he created and managed an OpenVMS cluster laboratory. Mr. Miller also has 20 years of aerospace experience in various software engineering positions. He is the author of OpenVMS Operating System Concepts from Digital Press, and is currently at work with Steve Hoffman on the second edition of Lawrence Baldwin’s OpenVMS System Management Guide, forthcoming from Digital Press.

Book preview

NIGHT AT THE ALAMO

A SAITO IZUMI, VAMPIRE TALE

FROM THE IRISH CYCLE

DAVID MILLER

COPYRIGHT

NIGHT AT THE ALAMO

Published by Dark Road Publishing

www.darkroadpub.com

Night at the Alamo, Copyright © 2014 by David Miller

Excerpt for Stone of Destiny, Copyright © 2015 by David Miller

Cover Art Cat Eyes Copyright © 2014 by Lamica / Dreamstime.com

Cover Art The Alamo Copyright © 2014 by Guitarfreak / Dreamstime.com

Book and Cover Design Copyright © 2015 by Dark Road Publishing

Night at the Alamo is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities or resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is wholly coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violations of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

All Rights Reserved

FINALLY, THE UNTOLD, TRUE STORY OF WHAT REALLY HAPPENED THE NIGHT THE ALAMO FELL

On that fateful night of March the 6th, 1836, Saito Izumi, a centuries old vampire, tended to the sick and dying, chief among her charges; the legendary Colonel James Bowie.

But while General Santa Anna’s attack was no surprise, what swarmed over the walls of the old mission turned out to be anything but expected. And what Saito learned that night about honor and duty would change her forever—if she lives through the night.

A defining moment in American history featuring the vampire Saito Izumi

From the author of STONE OF DESTINY - Book One in the Irish Cycle Series

NIGHT AT THE ALAMO

Alamo Mission

San Antonio de Béxar

Texas—March 6th 1836

SAITO IZUMI HAD managed to keep her secret for a fortnight.

For fourteen days no one knew, no one suspected the truth.

But on that final, terrible night her secret was exposed. It couldn’t be helped. The true nature of who—of what—she was, was revealed.

Saito Izumi was kyuuketsuki. A blood-suck-demon. A vampire.

In the cold, dark hours before dawn on March the 6th, 1836, President General Antonio López de Santa Anna and his Mexican Army, 1,800 soldados strong, attacked the Alamo.

When the assault on the old mission began, Saito was in the old convent building that had been converted into a hospital ward. She was there to tend to her friend, Colonel James Bowie, stricken ill two weeks prior. Bowie, alongside Lieutenant-Colonel William Travis, led the 182 Texan and Tejano men committed to defending the old mission—a small, brave contingent of men determined to hold the Alamo against a crushing force until General Sam Houston’s promised reinforcements could arrive.

Bowie lay on a cot covered with a thin, inadequate blanket, barely able to hold it to his quivering chin. Weak as a kitten, his skin was flush with fever. His hands were clammy and trembling.

Saito had placed a stool by his bedside. She sat. In her hands she held a bowl of soup.

The chamber was lit and warmed by the roaring glow of a crackling fire in the cooking hearth, its stone mantle taking up most of the south wall. Cold winter air whistled through the narrow cut space that served as a window overlooking the convent yard below. The smell of rot and disease and death hung thick and