The Vampire's Raven

By C. Gold

There will be no lamenting this lost Lenore.

When his lover goes missing, Adrian engages the help of his necromancer friend in order to get her back. But the way won't be easy, and it may prove too much even for an elder vampire like himself. It doesn't matter though. He will save Lenore no matter the price, even at the cost of his very soul. And neither the warlock, the demon lord, nor the army of the damned will stop him.

This novelette is inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's poem, 'The Raven'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Golden Elm Publishing
• Release date: Jan 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386287971

Book preview

The Vampire’s Raven

A Paranormal Novelette

By C. Gold

Golden Elm Publishing

Redmond, WA

Copyright © 2017 C. Gold

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

First Edition 1.2

The Vampire’s Raven is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or places, is completely coincidental.

Golden Elm Publishing

Redmond, WA

Please visit the author’s official website:

www.thegoldenelm.org

Dedicated to my friends, family, and WoW guild mates for supporting me even when I vanished for long stretches at a time.

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted - nevermore!

—Edgar Allen Poe, The Raven

Contents

Lost Lenore

A Stately Raven

Night’s Plutonian Shore

Nevermore

Excerpt from The Demon Soul Invasion

Chapter 1: Unexpected Caller

From the Author

Books by the Author

About the Author

CHAPTER 1

Lost Lenore

Moisture hung in the chill evening air in that halfway place between fog and rain. The denuded trees thrust their claw-like branches upward while their leafy corpses littered the ground—evidence of a battle lost.

Adrian Ravencourt didn’t notice these trivialities as he stalked across the street with long, aggressive strides that radiated palpable menace. He only had eyes for his informant who was standing on the front porch of a two-story colonial. With a predator’s grace, he topped the stairs and wasted no time with niceties. Where is he?

In the basement, the professional replied, equally terse, and tilted his head to indicate the front door.

Leave, Adrian barked. He didn’t want witnesses for what he had planned.

The man stepped back and gave a low-pitched whistle which summoned three masked men from the house. They moved with the silent economy of ex-Special Forces. Expensive to hire, they produced speedy results which, to Adrian, was worth every penny spent.

He watched with growing anticipation as they drove off in a non-descript black car. After scanning to make sure nobody else was around, Adrian entered the house.

The stairs were narrow and led to a cluttered workshop. Books, broken pieces of bric-a-brac, and furniture littered the floor in a clear sign of struggle. But the true prize that seized his attention sat tied to a chair.

The balding, middle-aged man stared sullenly out one swollen eye. His expensive clothes were blood splattered and torn. Currently, he was worrying at the magic-blocking runed cuffs that anchored his wrists to the chair. When he looked up and spotted the intruder, he sucked in a breath and began to bellow with righteous indignation. You don’t know who you’re messing with!

Adrian blinked across the space to stand right in front of him.

What the—

The man did a good job of hiding his fear, but the sickly stench