Falling for the Vampire - 1: Falling for the Vampire, #1

By Tully Belle

Emma Hazelton must save herself and her sisters from her uncle’s tyrannical rule. He has vowed to destroy all living relatives so he can remain in control of the family fortune and manor house. 

Silas Nathanial needs blood to survive. Feeding is the only thing that makes sense in his dark and dangerous world.

When their two lives entwine it becomes clear that neither will be able to survive without the other. Silas needs Emma so he can heal his tortured dreams, and Emma needs Silas to help her gain strength over her uncle.

Will they be able to come together in time or will fear consume them both?

Falling for the Vampire 1 is the first book in a five part series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tully Belle
• Release date: Jan 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386001744

Book preview

CHARACTER LIST

Emma Hazelton

Eldest of the Hazelton girls. About to turn twenty-one.

Rose Hazelton

Middle Hazelton sister. Nineteen years old.

Elizabeth (Beth) Hazelton

Youngest of the Hazelton girls. Seventeen years old.

Steven Hazelton (Uncle)

Brother of Edward. Uncle to the Hazelton girls. Current owner of Hazelton Manor.

Edward Hazelton

Father to the Hazelton girls. Rich. Owned Hazelton Manor. Married Sarah Clark. Died ten years ago.

Sarah Hazelton (nee Clark)

Mother to the Hazelton girls. Married Edward Hazelton. Died ten years ago. Friends with Silas Nathanial when she was younger.

Silas Nathanial

Vampire. Was turned almost twenty one years ago. Was best friends with Sarah when he was a human.

Mrs. Nenken

Housekeeper. Came to Hazelton Manor when Edward and Sarah died to help look after the girls and keep the house.

Terrell Winchester

Chef. Has been at the Manor for six months.

1

EMMA

flourish.jpg

––––––––

Ice crystals cracked on the window and I stirred awake, turning my head in the direction of the sound. A pattern had formed that looked like a thick tangled cobweb, obscuring the view into opaqueness. Even the warmth from the room wasn’t melting the ice on the glass like it usually did. It must be colder outside than I thought.

My bed was next to the window and I reached up to close the curtains when a dark shadow crossed the panes.

At first I thought I’d imagined it, I was still sleepy from my dreams after all, but when it passed again, the chill from outside invaded my bones. I lay quietly barely daring to breathe as I stared outside.

It was him. I knew it.

We’d heard rumors, my sisters and I, but no-one had seen him. No one that had lived to tell anyway.

There was evidence though. So much evidence.

Dried splattered blood lay on paths in the daylight, an animal sucked to death nearby. But he didn’t venture out in the daylight. He was a night dweller. Nocturnal. A killer.

I dared to look across at my two younger sisters. Both were fast asleep. Nineteen year old Rose had her head turned toward the wall and my youngest sister, seventeen year old Beth dreamed peacefully. Neither knew that he was just outside our window.

Tap, tap, tap.

My heart jumped into my throat.

Go away, I willed silently. Leave me be. I shut my eyes tight and pretended it was just a tree branch scratching against the window in the wind and nothing more sinister.

Open the window, let me in. His voice was deep and soft. He whispered the words breathlessly. Open the window, he repeated.

I will not, I thought to myself. I will not let you in.

Tap, tap, tap.

Beth stirred and groaned. If he continued to tap on the window like this then he’d wake them and terrify them. No, I couldn’t have that.

I slowly inched over and reached into the drawer beside my bed, pulling out a newly sharpened butcher’s knife.

I knew he was watching me so I made no attempt to conceal what I was doing. My hope was that if he saw me with it he’d leave and bother someone else. Preferably somewhere far away.

Go away, I hissed as quietly as I could. Or I’ll call my uncle. He’ll set the dogs onto you.

You won’t call him, he said.

I paused, how could he know that? It angered me that he would be so presumptuous, but worse that he would know that I wouldn’t call my uncle. He was right, I wouldn’t call him. Not this late at night, and certainly not to our bedroom, the only room at Hazelton Manor where we felt safe.

"Then I’ll call the