Blood and Wings: A Shaded Rose Series, #1

By J Wells and L Wells

With their destinies inextricably linked, three people’s lives are thrown together.



As Rose stands on a bridge gazing down into the dark waters, bombarded by voices in her head telling her to jump, she is offered Lucian’s hand and takes it. A vampire has saved her life, but how can she possibly return the favour? Is the bargaining tool he offers her one that Rose can afford to refuse?



If the waters of Rose’s life aren’t muddied enough, revelations made by Tristan, her best friend, only serve to complicate matters further.



Blood and Wings is the first book in the ‘Shaded Rose’ series, a story of love, loss and betrayal.



If meeting a vampire wasn’t daunting enough, how will Rose react to meeting an angel…?

• Language: English
• Publisher: J & l Wells
• Release date: May 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519980076

Book preview

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Blood & Wings

Book One

Copyright © 2015 by Laura Williams & Judith Brimble

[J & L Wells]

Cover design by Jennifer Munswami of J.M rising horse creations

Formatting and interior design by JT Formatting

Proof reading and editing by Kathryn Riehl and Sarah Cheeseman

All rights reserved.

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

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Thank you, Kristen Middleton for all of your support and convincing us to write a vampire book.

Kathryn Riehl, Sarah Cheeseman, Julie Titus, and Jennifer Munswami for helping to make our book perfect.

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Coming Soon - Twisted Wings

A Message from the Authors

Other Titles

An Excerpt from Venom by Kristen Middleton

The year 2013.

I uncross my legs and push myself up to my feet. I stand for a moment or two and fully embrace the comfort of darkness as it throws its shadowy cape around the trees. Darkness is my friend, giving me permission to wander the forest in safety. I look around and inhale the cold night air.

My eyes shoot towards scampering rabbits as they disappear into their burrows. I squint, imagining the amber glow of my eyes to be cat-like; they allow me to see so much that the human eye misses. Hearing a rustling of leaves, my senses are awakened. I embrace the cry of screech-owls and the howl of the wind. I cock my head slightly to the left and take in their serenades.

I throw my head back towards the ink-stained sky. How I miss the sun, the way her rays beat down upon my face. I can still recall that memory of those balmy summers I used to spend meandering along endless beaches, the turquoise waters of the sea, the waves crashing as they washed onto the shore. Loose hair falls onto my brow as I shake my head. God, what I would give to feel the warm grains of sand pressing between my toes. A reminder of life, places I have been, yet even that small memory holds a warmth inside me, one I can only dream of today.

To speak the truth, these last two hundred years have been no existence. I know that my family will try to stop me and force me back into our underground castle. However, this I shall not allow. My search for love was over long ago; she died, leaving me empty, without happiness or dreams.

My shoulders drop. Maybe, just maybe, in death I will find an inner peace, an absolution. I have no regrets, and my mind is set. I will face the dawn with her imminent sunrise and end this living hell.

I look around. The trees are crouched, scarred by time like wrinkled old men. I pass under the bow of a nearby Ash and pat a low branch in the same way I would pat Edmond on the shoulder, for these old boys are good friends of mine. Their knotted branches resemble elongated arms that hold me and keep me safe. One by one I have watched these old men felled by human hand year after year; the forest has been reduced by half. I flick my head one way, then the other. I walk on, stamping on and flattening the prickly green encasement of a conker. I hate the twenty-first century and this new world, with its strange people and vast changes.

I look down at the floor and back up again, catching sight of my black pantalets and thick nineteenth-century coat, which I wear purely out of habit. A vampire with a coat! I laugh out loud, for we are unable to feel warmth. My clothing doesn’t keep out the cold, this being a state I endure permanently, but it does keep out the twenty-first century. Whatever my thoughts, change is silent and creeps amongst us. How can I expect my family to live in the past? We visit the surrounding areas and study the people with their peculiarities, and slowly their ways are rubbing off on us. So we stand here in the twenty-first century, no more than mongrels; even our dialect lacks any consistency, and I hate it.

I hear Edmond calling me.

Damn it, I curse.

I asked my family for space, yet it seems they cannot allow me a moment to myself. I am disturbed by the sound of downtrodden branches that crack and splinter as footsteps approach.

Lucian! Edmond and my family call out.

They are now only steps behind me. Still they call out my name, which I hear with such clarity. I turn on my heels and run; my feet are fast. My shoes crunch on small stones that ricochet like bullets off the ground. With each step I place my foot down with more intent. The cold autumn wind beats stray wisps of hair against my face; I flick my head and discard them from my eyes. My gaze wanders up between the trees and their criss-crossing branches.

I can’t help but smile at the brilliance of the moon as she sits up high, peering down on me. The beauty she holds is unique; though bright, she gives off no warmth, and warmth is a sense I miss and have craved for so long.

My legs grow heavy; I imagine them to be weighed down by thoughts of my ominous past. Depression has no release, and I am compressed within its hold. I have suffered in silence for as long as I can remember.

I can’t raise any enthusiasm to join in the hunt; tonight even the rabbits didn’t tempt my palate. Then I ask myself, what does it matter? I am unable to die from starvation, but merely grow weaker. Maybe it’s that feeling of weakness that grabs at me, the vulnerability as a mortal I once knew. It’s times like this when I get that familiar sensation, and although it only lasts momentarily, it allows me the gift of feeling human once again.

I spin round, and the forest, with all its eerie cries and commotion, falls into silence. I stop dead and listen, but the voices of my family that were close only moments ago have left my ears. I feel a smile lift the corner of my lips.

I lean against the trunk of an old oak, allowing my eyes to close and my head to fall back. Briefly distracted from my self-loathing and self-pity, I lift my head and sniff; my hunting instincts have emerged. A kill is close. My nostrils flare and burn with excitement. Saliva trickles down from the roof of my mouth and my teeth lengthen from hunger. I’m unable to resist the scent I have picked up, and the temptation to feed is far too strong to ignore.

I laugh. How fickle a nature I have.

I stop to ask myself how I can possibly turn down an evening meal that is so close. Surely I can’t reprimand myself for desiring one final supper. When the deed is done and I have drained my victim, discarding its lifeless carcass, I can once again wallow in self-pity. When dawn shows her glorious face I will throw myself to the mercy of the sunrise.

My eyes widen. It is not a beast that stirs from deep in the undergrowth, its vibrant scent dancing like a halo before me. My cunning eyes narrow at a passing vision and I am greeted by a virginal white gown, its sheer material billowing like the graceful wings of a dove. It is a lady, sprightly on her feet. Trapped within my gaze she runs, but from what or whom I do not know. She is so close, yet through the concealment of darkness I am able to go unnoticed as her steps slip by. Momentarily I allow my stare to hold her in slow motion as I take in her pixie-like features. Her youth shows itself, and I decide she must be in her early twenties.

I look on in wonder at the sheen of her hair as the midnight-black locks roll down her back like the waves of the