Strigoi:
The Blood Bond
Tales
of the Strigoi
Book
1
Ron
D. Voigts
Genre:
Paranormal, Horror
Publisher:
Night Wings Publishing
ASIN:
B00LQRJBZ6
Number
of pages: 231
Word
Count: 72,000
Cover
Artist: Rachel C. Colon
Book
Description:
On
the verge of suicide after his wife leaves him, Alex Regal learns he
has inherited property located in a small town deep within the
mountains. Putting things on hold, he heads to Glade, hoping for
something positive in his life. Getting there is easy but leaving
proves to be impossible. A spell exists, keeping everyone captive in
this hidden place.
The
town of Glade is run by a Shapeshifter called the Strigoi. The
creature needs to drink human blood to survive. In folklore, taking
the form of a man or an animal, the Strigoi became the basis of
stories about vampires or werewolves. Now Alex must discover a dark
secret before he becomes the vampire's next meal.
Available
at Amazon
Excerpt
1:
Maggie
awoke in darkness. She blinked. Inky black filled her vision. She
recalled the stag standing in the road, losing control of the car,
and the accident.
She
tasted salt and metal. Her lower lip felt fat. A dull pain throbbed
at the side of her head. She slid her fingers across her scalp and
felt a bump.
Her
hand shook as she reached out and touched the steering wheel. She ran
her fingers along the column and felt the keys dangling in the
ignition. The engine no longer ran. Moving farther, she touched the
headlight switch and turned it.
The
world lit up in front of her. The car had nosed into a tree. The
headlight beams didn’t travel too far, absorbed by the brush,
nearby trees, and the night. The dash clock read 2:13.
By
best estimate, Maggie had been knocked out for about ten hours.
Hopefully only that. She didn’t feel too bad except for the pain
radiating from the bump on her head.
Now
came a decision. Leave the car and head down the road, or stay?
A
black shadow passed in front of the car lights. If she’d blinked
and she might have missed it. Possibly the night playing a trick on
her eyes.
Something
hit the car hard. The vehicle rocked for a second and then grew
quiet. Maggie held her breath and listened. All was silent like
before.
Above
her, something moved on the car’s roof. First, the sound came as
gentle thumps, like someone walking above her. The noise grew louder.
Pounding and scratching. Maggie realized whatever had leaped atop the
car meant to claw its way in.
“Stop,”
she screamed.
The
sound became intense, the action more violent.
She
cupped her hands over her ears and screamed, “Please, stop.”
Another
boom came from overhead. A silhouette passed in front of the car
lights again and vanished into the darkness. Maggie wondered if it
had left.
Then
the shadow appeared again, she heard a crash, and the left headlight
went dark. Maggie thought this could not be happening. Things didn’t
happen like this in the real world. Another crash and the right light
went out.
The
only light in the car came from the dashboard. Whatever was outside
could see her by the glow. Her fingers fumbled for the switch,
twisted it, and darkness once more wrapped around her.
Her
breaths came in short pants. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her eyes
opened, her eyes closed—the darkness remained the same. Minutes
passed without a sound. The quiet grew unnerving.
What
had it been? She’d heard of bears attacking vehicles. Certainly
that would explain the agility and size of whatever it had been. But
did bears come out at night?
A
sickening feeling overwhelmed her—she was not alone. Something
still remained outside, perhaps only feet from the car. She had not
heard anything for a while now. Reason said it had left, but she knew
it hadn’t. Whatever was outside waited for her.
She
raised her hand and touched the underside of the car’s roof. Her
fingers dragged across the surface of the liner, sweeping in gentle
arcs until she found the dome light. Her fingertip slipped over the
rocker switch.
A
cold feeling washed over her. Her imagination played with her. If she
pressed the switch and lit the interior, would something be outside,
waiting? Would that be the trigger to provoke it?
When
she could no longer stand it, she pushed. Light flooded the inside of
the car. Nothing happened. She was alone. The light soothed her and
kept the darkness away. The night had no power over her.
Then
it hit the windshield. Fur pressed against the glass. A patch of fog
wafted from the nostrils of a black nose. Fangs glistened in the
light. Two red eyes stared at her.
Maggie
pushed on the steering wheel, and the sound of the horn blared.
Excerpt
2:
For
the next hour, I laid in the armchair, trying to sober up while
listening for the typical noises of the night. A barking dog.
Crickets chirping. Tree frogs croaking. But the air had been devoid
of any sound except the ticking of the clock. Then something outside
thudded.
I
pulled back the drape and peeked out the front window. The dim light
of the desk lamp made it difficult to see anything, except my own
reflection. I reached for the lamp’s switch, hesitated, and then
turned it, plunging the room into darkness.
An
impenetrable gloom surrounded me. If I focused for a moment, I could
see the outlines of things outside, but the exact shapes remained
indiscernible. The silhouette of a tree loomed just to the left. The
edge of the fence contrasted against the road. Shrubs dotted the
grass along the front walk. But did I really see them or did my
imagination put them there? Perhaps the noise I heard earlier was
just another trick of the night, or a product of my ability to fill
in details.
But
something moved. A figure so dark it contrasted even against the
shadows of the night. The movement made me think of a cat, but the
size would make it a lion or something larger. In an easy bound it
leaped, cleared the fence, and landed effortlessly in the yard.
My
heart raced. I glanced at the front door to be sure I had pushed the
two double bolts in place. The size of the creature outside left
little doubt that it could easily crash through the door and get
inside.
For
a moment, the beast seemed motionless, and I wondered if my
imagination had played another trick on me. Tired eyes. A long day.
Too much to drink. Perhaps I only thought I saw something, and the
outline near the fence was a cluster of bushes.
But
then it moved again, stepping slowly toward the side of the house as
if taking in the surroundings, surveying the place. The dark form
vanished, and I realized it was headed for the backyard.
I
bolted for the kitchen. My right leg caught the desk chair and
knocked it over. Books lying on the floor flew as I kicked them. I
aimed for the dim rectangle that was the doorway to the kitchen.
Keeping my hands outstretched, I found the kitchen table and
maneuvered around it. I peered out the back door’s window,
frightened by what might look back.
In
the dim glow, I could see the chopping block, the wood pile, and
where the forest’s edge began. Then the creature appeared, taking
easy steps. The shape reminded me of a dog of an enormous size. The
largest dog I’d ever seen was a mastiff, and this creature easily
dwarfed that breed. The only thing bigger was a wolf.
I
thought of the handgun in the box back home and how I’d almost
ended my life with it. I’d put it back, thinking how stupid the
idea had been. I’d vowed never to touch it again. Now I wished I
had the gun.
When
the wolf reached midway between the house and forest’s edge, it
paused, turned its head, and stood motionless. I wondered if it saw
me through the window pane. Not sure, I stepped back until I was out
of sight.
Would
it come toward the house? Burst through the door? My heart hammered
hard. I felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of my face. The
air felt cold and clammy. When I could no longer wait, I stepped
forward and looked outside again.
The
creature was gone.
GUEST BLOG from RON D. VOIGTS:
Interview
with a Strigoi
The
following excerpt is from an interview with Lord Nikola Choroleeva,
three years before the publication of Strigoi, The Blood Bond.
Reporter Amber Theresa Moore, who worked for an independent news
service, conducted the interview at an undisclosed location in Boone
County, NC.
Moore:
Mr. Choroleeva, can you…
Choroleeva:
Lord Choroleeva, if you please.
Moore:
Um, yes, Lord Choroleeva, can you tell us a bit about your early
years?
Choroleeva;
Not much to tell. My home city is Sighetu Marmației near the
Carpathian Mountains. I was the second youngest of nine children. My
father was a merchant who— (Choroleeva pauses.) Miss Moore, you
appear nervous.
Moore:
No, um, I’m fine. Can you tell me about your education?
Choroleeva:
(Laughs) That’s not what is on your mind. You wish to know how I
became a Strigoi, not so? (Another laugh) I had been enjoying a plum
wine with friends at a small inn off Strada Pintea Viteazu and left
early with a young woman who offered pleasure for a price. We were
drunk and she overly affectionate. If I had paid more attention,
perhaps things would have been different. But too late! A beast
sprang from the shadows—a wolf of enormous size and beauty. My
companion was torn to pieces before she could utter a cry. I ran but
my escape was ineffective. The creature took me down and pinned me to
the stone paved street. Then in an instant a woman with raven black
hair and eyes that shimmered like gold held me to the ground. Her
lips touched my throat. Her mouth caressed my neck. The pain was
brief. In my death that night I became a Strigoi.
Moore:
Who was the woman?
Choroleeva:
She called herself Viorica, Romanian for Bluebell, a lovely name. She
taught me things I needed to know. She became my lover. We shared
much together and kept each other company for many years, until her
death.
Moore:
What happened to her?
Choroleeva:
I was not with her that day. She died at the hands of soldiers, led
by a lieutenant looking
to make a name for himself. Cătălin Lupei. A fitting name for
someone who kills a wolf. They shackled her in iron chains, led her
through the town in the sunlight, and burnt her alive. Of course, I
killed Lupei three nights later and
ate his heart. Răzbunare
este o masă gustoasă.
The
internview lasted over sixty minutes and was published on Miss
Moore’s website (http://ambertmoore.blogspot.com)
which is now defunct. She vanished about two months after the
meeting with Nikola Choroleeva. An investigation by the police found
no foul play. They said indications were that she may have come into
an inheritance and left the area.
About
the Author:
Originally
from the Midwest, Ron D. Voigts now call North Carolina home where he
and his wife have a small house off the Neuse River. Ron’s writing
credits include the Penelope Mystery Series for middle-grade readers
and the dark mystery thriller, Claws of the Griffin. His reading
taste is eclectic and depends if the first sentence captures his
interest. When not writing and reading, he enjoys watching gritty
movies, cooking gourmet food, and playing games on his PC.
Twitter:
@RonDVoigts
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What did Sister Sinister think?
* * * * *
I give it 5 Stars!
* * * * *
I was given the opportunity to read to review this book as part of the blog tour, and I loved it! I loved the whole concept, it was so well written, there was mystery, diverse characters, and of course, a cursed town.
Alex Regal was a trigger pull away from ending his life over the unfaithfulness of his wife when he received a fateful missive. A cousin he didn't know he had, living in a town he's never heard of, had died and left him his home. Thinking he can meet with the lawyer and settle the estate quickly, he has no earthly idea that there is dark magic involved when his car won't start and the people prove themselves to be ... a little weird and a whole lot unfriendly to visitors. The truth, he will find, is a whole lot stranger - and a whole lot more menacing.
Thank you for hosting my blog tour for Strigoi, The Blood Bond. I appreciate the opportunity to meet your readers and introduce them to my book.
ReplyDeleteMy pleasure, I greatly look forward to the next book in the series!
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