Adam

By Sam Crescent

To figure out the present, they need to go back to the past.

Poppy is the only remaining necromancer in the world. She is the one in control of the dead and she has been sent to the Valentines. There is an evil force at work and she must help Adam Valentine to uncover it before it's too late.

Adam is intrigued by the young necromancer. Her scars do not affect him. He sees the strength inside her and he likes it. All he wants to do is protect her and claim her as his own.

They are on a mission to find out who the real alpha of the Beyer West pack is. But Poppy's world is about to turn on itself as she needs to make a choice. There is no room for love in the life of a necromancer, yet after centuries of being alone, Adam has filled her life with meaning.

People will die and secrets will be revealed as the balance that protects them is broken. Can their love survive as the world is about to be sent into chaos? This is no longer about the wolves but something much bigger that neither of them can fight.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
• Release date: Jul 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781781843802

Book preview

A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

Adam

ISBN # 978-1-78184-380-2

©Copyright Sam Crescent 2013

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright June 2013

Edited by Stacey Birkel

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.

This story contains 105 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 6 pages.

The Valentines

ADAM

Sam Crescent

Book three in the Valentines series

To figure out the present, they need to go back to the past.

They need to learn the truth before the wolves attack again.

Poppy is the only remaining necromancer in the world. She is the one in control of the dead and she has been sent to the Valentines. There is an evil force at work and she must help Adam Valentine to uncover it before it’s too late.

Adam is intrigued by the young necromancer. Her scars do not affect him. He sees the strength inside her and he likes it. All he wants to do is protect her and claim her as his own.

They are on a mission to find out who the real alpha of the Beyer West pack is. But Poppy’s world is about to turn on itself as she needs to make a choice. There is no room for love in the life of a necromancer, yet, after centuries of being alone, Adam has filled her life with meaning.

People will die and secrets will be revealed as the balance that protects them is broken. Can their love survive as the world is about to be sent into chaos? This is no longer about the wolves but something much bigger that neither of them can fight.

Dedication

I would like to thank my editor, Stacey. You’ve been amazingly patient with me and I appreciate everything you do to help me become a better writer.

Prologue

She’s been chosen. We don’t have a choice. The man’s booming voice scared the woman at his side.

Poppy is too young. What you wish for is unfair to her. We must answer our calling after adulthood, not during our youth, the woman finally found the courage to argue back. Never before would she have considered doing something so outrageous.

All of us didn’t have to deal with our extinction. The decision has been made and Poppy has been chosen. Live with it.

It is unfair. Poppy will be forever immortalised in a young woman’s body. She won’t be able to change. Her emotions will be fuelled by her age. Please, I beg you to hold off on this transition. The woman spoke with desperation.

No, we go through with this now.

You will sacrifice our daughter this easily?

It’s for the good of our kind and the future of our species.

This is madness.

The man dropped his head and stared down amongst the few remaining full-blooded necromancers. For centuries, their kind had been slain. Their numbers lessened with every passing year. Their power weakened with every generation born. Breeding with humans and other creatures of the paranormal world had left them unstable and their immortality void.

Poppy is the only female who can carry on. He sounded convinced and so sure of his path, no way could he see failure in his plan to force on the transition of a necromancer.

She deserves more than this. What you ask for is a lifetime of pain and misery. She hasn’t even been with a man. I know you don’t wish to hear these things, but she deserves to be given the chance to love.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

With his final words ringing in the air, the man and woman went in search of their daughter.

Poppy lay in a heap on the floor surrounded by human children. Her blue eyes sparkled while her pale skin held the subtle glow of happiness, which few of their number enjoyed. Necromancers were not well known for their good moods.

The laughter died on her lips as soon as she saw her parents.

Mother. Father. Welcome. Poppy bowed her head and the shivers began in her body. She knew in her heart trouble was coming.

Follow me, her father ordered. In their world no one argued with an elder. If you argued, it would be seen as a sign of disrespect. There would be severe punishment for anyone who dared to do so. Nodding her consent, she turned to the nurse—an elder necromancer and a kind woman—and waved goodbye before leaving the children.

She walked the short distance—her black gown flowing round her ankles with each step—following behind her parents. The long sleeves did nothing to stop the chill seeping into her bones. Her mother smiled at her one final time before she entered the room. A cold slab of stone lay in the centre of the large room. The stone was surrounded by twelve men, each covered in a thick black robe.

Poppy couldn’t stop the rapid beating of her heart even as she stopped behind her father. She was a small female. Poppy didn’t even reach his shoulders.

It is time, Rory. We must end this before the cycle is complete. Poppy gazed down to see her mother holding her hand. The strength in the touch did nothing to calm her nerves.

What is happening, Mother? she asked.

"Silence! A raging sound filled the air. The time to act is now. Voices filled her head. Each voice hissing through her mind, words of fear and rage. All of their emotions were bombarding her at once. It is time," whispered across her temple.

Poppy knew what the words meant, but she glanced up at her father, seeking something more. She was too young and untrained. She couldn’t possibly be ready for such responsibility.

What is to become of me?

You must answer this call.

But I haven’t lived. I’m only eighteen. I’m not old enough for this calling. She backed off, frightened by what was about to happen. Their laws stated that only a true necromancer could take on the main role. A necromancer should have lived and understood what life was like. They should be able to appreciate what the dead must be missing and do what must be done.

She hadn’t experienced enough in her short time to even consider being a good necromancer.

The man she called Father looked past her shoulder to the men guarding the door. Lock the gates. Do not let anyone come in, no matter what you hear. Her father turned back to her. Remove your robes and get up on the table.

Disrobing is not necessary, Rory. She can keep them on at all times, one of the men took pity and defended her.

But the ceremony—

As long as she performs her part, the robes may stay on.

Poppy clutched at her clothing, the only robes she’d been allowed in some time. The black dress was not part of their custom until the female had relinquished her virginity. Poppy knew hers was very much intact, but with the hunting of her kind, most of their traditions had ceased. She loved her black robe—the only possession she owned in her world.

Please. Don’t make me do this, she pleaded. Her short life began flashing before her eyes. She knew the moment she got up on that table, her life would be over.

When no one dared look at her, Poppy knew there was no use trying to fight her fate. She had to answer the call of the elders. Tears poured down her cheeks but she walked to the cold stone table and held out her hands to be helped onto the surface. The large circular ceremony slab had the shape of a body in the centre. She placed her head and aligned her arms and legs spread out. Each part of her fitted into the design perfectly as if it had been made for her.

Her life had been a curse from the start. She would never know what it meant to laugh in the sunset or hold hands with the man she loved. Never would she know what it meant to be married and have children. That life was reserved for the lucky ones. She wasn’t lucky but cursed to forever live in the cruelty of other men’s greed. War was merely an excuse to wipe each species off the list. Demons, trolls, spirits and necromancers were next in line for extinction.

Poppy closed her eyes as she saw the silver-bladed knife. The knife was old and the only means to kill or seriously wound a pure-blooded necromancer.

One of her wrists was grabbed and she gasped as the blade sliced up the flesh. Poppy imagined the red blood soaking where it lay in its resting place. She heard him move and the same was done to her other wrist and then to both her ankles. Her blood—her life force—dripped out of her. The cruelty of the act was not lost on her. Soon, the outline of her body would be swamped with blood. The ceremony demanded she didn’t move or make a sound.

We give ourselves to Poppy.

She didn’t want to see what was about to happen. Instead, she opened her eyes and stared up at the exposed sky above her that the ceiling of the room allowed for. Nights as clear as this one were the ones during which the council made their decisions and when sacrifices had to be made.