This isn't my work, it is work of someone I edit for... Her name is Alison Ducharme, she is a very gifted author. By the way, I do have her permission to post these works, and if it works out, you may be seeing more of her work on here. Also, I have already sent her a list of corrections, and these are pre-corrections, so please bear with me until I receive the corrected versions from the author.


Blood Libel

Part One: The Neftalem*
Book One: Jezebel

Introduction

The thing about having my mother was it was never about me. She was the center of the universe and I was hardly a concern. If I hadn't hurt her while I was being born, I doubt would even have noticed. A self-centered narcissist teenager, she wasn't meant to be a mother, but there have you. Fate is funny that way. Not so much funny 'ha-ha' but it definitely makes you think.

I was born on one of those sullen August nights that necessitates keeping the swamper on even though it only makes inside just as muggy as the night outside. Hellfire nights in the slums of New York. She hated me for making her even more uncomfortable. The nurses said she wouldn't touch me for a week. Reginald was the only reason I didn't die. He stayed awake with me at night to keep me from crying and he at long last convinced Audrey to feed me. And to prove her distaste for me, she saddled me with the name of one of history's most prominent bitches. It suited her grandios tastes and insulted me at the same time. How like her.

Before I was born, Audrey was just another painted brat, sporting tattered fishnet and black makeup like a talisman against the ordinary. She ran away at fourteen from the idyllic suburban community in Texas that she had always loathed. She turned some tricks and caught a bus to the biggest of the big cities, New York, seeking mystery, adventure. Seeking Devon James.

King of the goths and hero of the lonely, sexless teens of Alternative America, Devon James was the voice of a generation. His band, Nineveh's Twin, was Audrey's foremost obsession. He was her primary reason for choosing New York.

Somewhere between El Paso and Manhattan, Audrey got herself mixed up with the exact type of anti-hero that all her storybooks promised her. Reginald, the reluctant killer. I think she forced him into it, taunting his hunger till he just had to rip her throat out. I hope so. She'd have deserved it. She didn't stay with him, though he wanted her to. She left him to pine for her so she could fulfill her dreams of finding Devon James.

Just one short month after she left Texas, she found him. She lied about her age to get backstage at a Nineveh's Twin concert. She got high with the band then slipped off to a dressing room with him, getting her dearest wish. I'm convinced that's the night I was conceived, but she never cared enough about my feelings to confirm it. That was the best night of her life and she'd never tarnish it with thoughts of me.

She called Reginald when she found out about me. She was hoping that becoming a vampire had sterilized her, but there was to be no such luck. He told me later how she'd thrown a temper tantrum when he wouldn't pay for an abortion, and how she tried to kill herself when she started to show.

Apathy was her at her best. Everything that ever fell through, every plan that never came true, anything she wanted that she lacked, was all down to me, and the obligation I was. Lamenting her sacrifices and making sure I knew just how unwanted I'd been seemed to ease her mind. She resented me for the responsibilities I forced on her, never minding the fact of how negligent she was of them in the first place. She never really was meant for motherhood and the moment I turned eighteen, I relieved her burden and struck out on my own.

Blood Libel

Part One: The Neftalem
Book Two: Tiberius

Introduction

The story of me is the story of my father. Everything that matters about me started many years ago with him. The man who would become my father was once a young boy who foolishly put his trust in a stranger. Eleven year old Roman Crowe should have known better than to be out after dark, and all the warnings about talking to strangers should have been remembered. For some reason, though, these wise words were not heeded. Dorian Van Sant pushed his common sense to the wayside, claiming for himself another youthful victim.

I don't know the gruesome details, a small mercy for which I've always been grateful. The only thing he ever told me about that month that found him the werewolf's captive was that it not only forced him to grow up too young, but it forever put the fear of the beast into the deepest reaches of his soul.

I also know this: one month was all it took for young Roman Crowe to summon all the strength of his will to escape his prison and flee back to the safety of his parents' Kensington home. His escape was hardly victorious, however, because he would spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for that lurking beast.

Five years later, my father was gifted with his first happy instance since before his kidnapping. Josephine Roberts, the young woman who would become my mother, kissed him for the very first time. They went to school together. She found him mysterious. He'd been in love with her since he was six years old. From that first kiss on, they were inseparable.

Four short months later, my parents found themselves nervously trying to figure out just how to tell my grandparents about me. How best to tell them that their sixteen year old children were having a child of their very own? They were terrified. For my father, the terror was even worse. Would his son carry his curse? Could Dorian find his young wife and child? What sort of life could he give them? How could he tell Josephine about the beast inside of him? These many questions plagued him.

My mother never understood my father. She couldn't comprehend what on earth frightened him so. He never told her about his worries, too afraid she'd hate him for what he was. He loved her so much he couldn't bear the thought of her thinking he was a monster. His fears about Dorian, unfortunately, were not unfounded. He found us and promised to kill my mother and me so he could reclaim his renegade cub.

My mother stood by my father even after she learned the truth about him. She didn't care, she said she loved him anyway. Her love for him came at a heavy price. The night I was born, Dorian attacked us. He tore out her throat and bit me, leaving my father alive to suffer our deaths. I did not die, yet my father now feared even worse that I would be infected with his same plague.

His grief over my mother never kept his love from me. He guarded me fiercely as the last reminder of his one true love. We left London as soon as I was well enough to travel, never to return. We spent the majority of my childhood on the run, being found my Dorian several times along the way. Every time he found us, my father moved us far away again, swearing to keep me safe against Dorian's promise, that he would kill me and reclaim my father.

Roman Crowe fell to Dorian Van Sant in a forest in Oregon after twenty-one years of running. We fought him as best we could, but my father was weak from travel and easily bested. I am no fighter. I too was easily overcome. I tried to hold my own, to keep fighting him. It was then that I realized he was as bloody as I. Roman's last act of paternal protection was a gaping bite to the chest that I prayed was fatal. He ran off, leaving me in that forest to bury my father and continue to flee.

Jezebel

I left my mother the day I turned 18. We were each glad to be rid of the other. I went where my dreams had been whispereing through the long lonely years of my childhood, the place where the sky is grey and the music is alive. To Nineveh's Twin. To the home town of Devon James.

In Seattle, I found a city in which I could really get lose. The vampires didn't recognize me and everyone left me alone. I was accustomed to alone. I found a roof for my head in Capitol Hill with a young musician from New Orleans. Ramses had fled his home because he wanted his own graduer, away from his famously mystical Witch parents. He just wanted to see the view from the top with his guitar and notebook beside him, and get there on his own merit. He was the first friend I ever made.

He showed me around the city, telling me tales from the early life of Devon James. Devon had spent the early eighties perfecting his music in various haunts and havens throughout the Emerald City. He'd been something of a character downtown, playing anywhere they didn't arrest him. Finally a major record label took notice of the beautiful angel-eyed street urchin. The band was signed and whisked away to New York City, where legions of girls would see their faces and fuel their midnight obsessions.

I'd seen the pictures, he was the picture of dissatisfied and youthful rebellion, black hair covering his translucent skin, black makeup highlighting his mouth and amethyst eyes. I understood what in him appealed to Audrey, though it all seemed a tad ridiculous to me.

I told Ramses about Audrey's pilgrimage to New York and her famous conquest, and my theories based on that night's events. He looked at me gravely, appraising my every feature and matching them up against his mind's image of Devon. After several moments of intense scrutiny, he concluded that if I wasn't Devon's daughter then Audrey must have slept with a look-alike.

To celebrate my arrival, Ramses treated me to a night out. He took me to a bar that didn't ask for ID and we spent the evening drinking and enjoying the thundering of bass guitar and drums. We made easy conversation regarding our tastes and views of the world. He was a sensitive poet all about living for the moments that felt best. I was just a girl with very particular dislikes and not too many likes. He saw everything as beautiful, even violence and tragedy. I suspected this was because nothing truly bad had ever happened to him. I mostly thought people were stupid and vain.

We agreed on love. Love was the one thing I had a true hope for. It just had to transcend the pety crap that most people never evolved out of. Ramses believed in love because he had seen that, whatever their flaws, his parents shared a genuine connection. I believed because I had to. I had to think that I was missing something, that something had given people a will to carry on. It was my greatest hope for humanity that all the vanities and stupidities of people could be overcome, at least a little, by the presence in their lives of real love.

At last call, we left the bar, stumbling and laughing on our walk back to our apartment. A sharp groan from the alleyway beside us diverted our attention. I eased forward, prepared to find a vampire having her midnight meal. Instead, I found a young man hunched over, covered in blood. I gasped loudly and rushed to his side.

"Are you okay?" I asked, "what's happened to you?"

It looked like he was going to answer me, but instead he turned his head and wretched.

"Jezebel, he's drunk. Let's go home," Ramses called.

I could tell, though, that the boy wasn't drunk. He smelled only of soap, sweat, and his own spilling blood. He looked up at me suddenly and grabbed onto my hand, searching me with terror in his eyes. I wasn't able to stop myself from staring at him. He was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen, even bleeding and bruised as he was.

I could see through the swelling that his frightened eyes were green and kind, revealing shaken innocence and a desire to trust. He wanted to put his faith in me. I wanted to give him everything; to take away his every reason to fear. I wondered who had done this to him. Who had given him this fear? I swore to myself that, given the chance, I'd avenge him.

He hadn't let go of my hand, silently imploring me to protect him. Ramses reluctantly hailed a taxi, agreeing to my urgent demands to rescue the boy. He clutched at my hand the whole drive home, and sitting beside him, I felt him shaking. My heard was breaking for this beautiful, mangled stranger.

I helped him up the stairs into my new apartment. The thought breezed into my mind that I'd be sharing my space with this boy before I'd had it to myself for even a night. Normally that would bother me, but I wasn't sure I'd care if this particular person were in my space for the rest of my life. It was insane to feel so sure of that when he hadn't even spoken a word to me yet, but the way his hand found security in mine was all the assurance I needed.

I put his backpack, the only thing he carried, in my room and brought him clean pajamas from Ramses and a towel so he could clean himself up. After his shower he let me dress his wounds. He had several scratches that needed stitching. Lucky for him, I was handy with a needle and thread. He held staedy while I sutured him though I could tell it pained him.

I looked him over carefully to be sure I'd gotten everything. I lifted his heavy black dreadlocks from his shoulder and found a large bite wound. I knew many legends of vampires with fearsome fangs, but none could do this. He was bit by something else. A beastlike something with razor sharp human teeth. I said nothing, not knowing what or how much he already knew. I stitched and bandaged the cut, releasing his soapy scented hair. I stared at him again, his pale skin marred only by all the scratches, his muscles sculpted perfectly as a statue's though still soft. His face was sweet, dusted with black stubble. His pale green eyes fixed me with the calmest look I'd him wear all night.

"Thank you," he said, in a hoarse, English accented whisper.

"You're welcome," I replied in a shaky voice, "I'm Jezebel James."

"My name is Tiberius Crowe," he said, giving me a gentle smile. "You were very sweet to take me in, but it was very foolish. How could you have known I wouldn't hurt you?"

"My compassion doesn't discriminate," I answered, returning his smile sweetly, "I'd rather be killed trying to help someone than risk their safety for my own."

"How very noble," he mused sincerely. I flushed. He caught my eye and for what seemed like an eternity, neither of us could look away.

Ramses came out of his room as our eye contact broke. Tiberius pulled on a loose black t-shirt and I shook my head clear. I had no idea what had just happened. Ramses handed me a sheet and a few blankets. There was no bed in my room yet, so I was to sleep on the sofabed until I had one.

"Are you two both cool sleeping on the pullout?" Ramses asked, aiming a sick little smirk at me.

"Sure," I answered, hoping I hadn't stammered. I swore in my head. I'd never shared a bed in my life. I'd especially never shared a bed with Mr. Right-at-First-Sight. If his eyes weren't so calm I might have started hyperventilating. He put me at ease, though, and helped me make the bed.

As we lay down, I carefully tried to avoid his injuries and give him space. To my surprise, though, he got very close to me.

"I've never slept alone," he explained, "I'm used to contact."

I sighed nervously, not knowing what kind of night I had in store. He kept close all night as if still seeking my protection. I thoguht it would be awkward, that I'd be uncomfortable. I thought I would want some space. To my shock, I had to keep myself, not from pulling away, but from putting my arms around him and staying as close as possible.


(sorry if they are not in order, this is the order in which she posted..)

I just want to thank you and I wanted to let you know that she is currently working on getting the next chapter up and running. Thank you again, and feel free to post comments, and any questions you have, I will relay to her.

Ack, I detect major sarcasm. >.o. Sorry I haven't gotten a reply up sooner. It's sort of confusing because I don't think it's actually posted in order (I'm guessing posts two and three should be switched since the second post is from book two), but it's an interesting premise she's got going; the first book begins with the main character / mother, while the second begins with the (new) main character / father relations.

Sorry I don't have too much to say. It's interesting to read though. Tell her to keep it up. =).

I will, and it is a little out of order, she wrote the first two, and posted them as blogs, then she wrote the next, and posted that after I had the first two already up, she is currently working on the next portion, which I will post as soon as it is done. I will let her know she has a fan, I was thoroughly impressed that it got as many views as it did though. Thank you to everyone! Especially DB!