Framed In Blood (A Trio of Vampire Tales)

By Susan Hart

Last Of A Dying Earth, is about what would happen if there were almost no humans left on earth and immortal vampires began to die. What would the last vampire do? What would he have on the top of his bucket list? Probably not something you would imagine.

Last Vampire On Earth, is about Alexander, the last being on earth. His only hope is the woman he dreams about often. He tried to kill himself once, but survived. He cannot stand it for much longer. One night, he finds a ray of hope in the post apocalyptic earth.

Immortal, But Dying is about a world where all of the male vampires are either dead, or sick and dying, and how the female vampires cope – or not.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Hart
• Release date: Feb 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311835321

Susan Hart

I was born in England, but have lived in Southern California for many years. I m now retired and live in the Pacific NW in a little seaside city amongst the giant redwoods and wonderful harbor, almost at the Oregon border. My husband and I have two cats. I love Science Fiction, animals, and trying to help others. I publish under Doreen Milstead as well as my own name. My photo was taken right before the coronation of QE II in the UK.

Book preview

Framed In Blood

(A Trio of Vampire Tales)

By

Susan Hart

Copyright 2016 Susan Hart

Last Of A Dying Earth

Last Vampire On Earth

Immortal, But Dying

Last Of A Dying Earth

Synopsis: Last Of A Dying Earth, is about what would happen if there were almost no humans left on earth and immortal vampires began to die. What would the last vampire do? What would he have on the top of his bucket list? Probably not something you would imagine.

Zachary didn’t think that this was how the world was going to end. Honestly, he never thought it would. Maybe that was part of some immortality mentality coloring everything else in his life.

He’d never seen it coming.

People got scarcer and scarcer. Zachary hadn’t been worried about it until he’d gone a whole week without seeing a living soul. At that point, there were still quite a few non-living souls about, but that had changed soon enough, too.

Zachary had been spoiled. He could admit this to himself now, with no one else to judge him. He’d been spoiled, disconnected, disinterested, and downright blind. It was so easy to get lost inside the estate, to have parties that lasted whole months, to sip from gorgeous, drunken young women who left him with an eternal buzz.

But the women came fewer and fewer. Though it wasn’t necessarily his thing, Zachary started drinking men’s blood. It didn’t taste as sweet to him, though some of his peers would laugh at him about it.

You’ve pampered yourself for too long, Zachary, they’d say, chortling while sipping blood from champagne flutes, their marble skin flickering from the fire in his hearth. What next, only virgins?

Zachary knew of a vampire who only drank from virgin women. In the day and age they now lived in, with the strange seesawing of cultural norms, the crusty old bloodsucker had starved to death.

Starved to death. A vampire. An immortal, dead because of the foible of his questionable tastes.

That idea used to be something so strange that they didn’t talk about it. As long as there would be people, there would be vampires. It was as simple as that.

Then, the people started dying out.

Zachary wished he would’ve been more attentive. He had endured his peers’ hushed discussions about the state of the world, when they’d come calling. They came calling with such dreadfully boring news so often that he stopped receiving them.

He realized that he had been drunk for a solid year, lapping up martini-flavored blood from beautiful young women until there were no more beautiful young women to come to parties at his estate.

Then, the men stopped coming.

Then, his fellow vampires.

The evening Zachary awoke with a hangover that felt vile enough to kill him, he realized a good deal of it was due to how hungry he was. Zachary had never felt such a hunger. How long had it been since he’d tasted blood — spiked with alcohol or not?

For the first time in what had to be a decade, Zachary left the estate. He hadn’t realized how dilapidated the old place was. He wondered how long it’d been since the servants had extracted the cobwebs from the chandelier.

He wondered how long it’d been since he had servants.

There was no moon, and Zachary wondered whether the stars had vanished. The sky was cast in a robe of clouds — clouds like Zachary had never seen. This troubled him. He was many, many centuries old. He’d seen every trail of vapor nature had to offer. Why were these so different?

He set off walking — shuffling, really, with such a rotten hangover — and grabbed the first figure he happened