There are those who argue how Bram Stoker came up with his infamous tale of Dracula. Many believe since he never traveled to Eastern Europe, he would not know about vampire lore there.
Bram Stoker could not read Irish, but his it is possible his Sligo-born mother and Kerry maids told him about the legend of the vampire-king and the strong tradition of blood-drinking Irish Cheiftains and nobles. Dracula was also written during Ireland’s great “Celtic Revival”. It is believed Bram Stoker actually took the name Dracula from Dreach-Fhoula, which is pronounced droc’ola. It means tainted blood or bad blood. The Du’n Dreach-Fhoula or the Castle of the Blood Visage is supposedly a fortress guarding the pass in the Magillycuddy reeks in Kerry where the blood-drinking fairies live.
My tale, The Love’s Eternal Embrace takes place in Ireland, weaving the tale around the Dearg-due, another blood-drinking fiend in the form a fair lady.
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The Romance Studio Spookaluza --Oct. 26-31st!
Enjoy a short excerpt of Love's Eternal Embrace:
Her lips curved and her eyes glowed red. He blinked and her eyes were blue once more. It must have been a trick of the light, the unnatural light surrounding her and her only.
“You braved the forest at night. I’m impressed,” she said as she came to her feet in one fluid move.
He decided he wouldn’t reveal it was his drunken boast that led him here to slay a fiend. Surely, the villagers did not mean this lovely creature. “Do I have something to fear, fair maiden?”
She seemed to consider his question with the utmost care. “Not at the moment, I suppose.”
He glanced around, wondering where Loucetios had run off. In truth, this fair maiden’s sudden appearance made him question his safety. A beautiful woman could not live alone in the forest and if she did, there were others.
It would be best to leave the woods at once and live to tell the tale than to linger and mayhap fall prey to this fair maiden’s men. Perhaps they lay in wait as they spoke, buying their time before leaping from the shadows. He opened his mouth to tell her of his regrets for leaving her, but closed it again when in a blink of an eye she stood close enough to touch, the glow surrounding her blazing brighter. Her dress was of fine velvet befitting royalty, not of a peasant in need of robbing to survive. Her fine boned features were both delicate and strong. She possessed a straight petite nose, high cheekbones, and lips made for kissing. In truth, she was the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on and one he would feel honored to court. He frowned at where his thoughts had taken him, but somehow this woman befuddled his judgment. Aye, she was a comely lass, whose brazen stares spoke of desire, or so he believed.
As a Knight Templar, he took an oath to follow the religious rules, the Rule of Benedict. He wore the white vestment, the symbol of purity and the life of celibacy, but he was no longer required to follow the Order’s rules.
Her direct look set his blood coursing through his veins, hot with lust. Wed her or ravish her seemed to be one and the same as his thoughts pictured her in his bed and beneath him.
As if she could read his mind, her full red lips curved. “You look like a strong and able man.” Her gaze traveled the length of him in appreciation. It was too bold a gaze for a woman who was untried.
Liam was pleased rather than not. Someone should know what they were doing in the marriage bed. The church may condemn such pleasures of the body, believing bedding a woman should be left for child bearing, but he didn’t believe it for a moment that the maker of man would not want his creations to enjoy each other. Why bestow the magic of touch if they were not meant to reap the rewards. Nay, his God gave man a special gift. The sin was only in the act of abusing it.
His gaze traveled over her, admiring her curves, the smooth porcelain color of her skin. This woman was meant for pleasure, giving and taking. He must convince her to be his.
“I am most curious, Sir Knight, how would you please me?” she asked him.
“How…” His brows furrowed. “You can read my mind.” He didn’t ask, but stated the obvious.
“Among other talents, I assure you.” Her hand touched his and he shivered. Her touch was like ice, but it also increased his desire to have her.
“You are cold, milady.” He drew off his mantle and draped it around her. Her eyes widened in surprise at the gesture.
“You are too kind, Sir Knight.”
“Liam, please. My friends call me Liam.”
Her smile curved wider, revealing straight white teeth. On his journeys many women over the age of ten and nine had begun to lose their teeth, but not this woman who lived among the trees. His gaze focused on two of her teeth that appeared pointier than the others. The villagers claimed a female fiend lived in the forest, but surely this woman with thick dark hair could not be such a creature. He didn’t fear her, but longed to hold her. As her gaze slid over him, appreciation gleamed in her eyes. The wind still blew about them in a fury. A storm threatened the night, not ghosts or fiends. “And what may I call you, fair maiden?”
“I was once called Glamis Drui.”
“Lady Glamis Drui.” He raised her hand to his lips. Her flesh was still cool, but she didn’t shiver. The wind seemed not to bother her in the least. “Do you have shelter, milady? We must wait out the storm.” His gaze swept over her comely figure with appreciation.
She stepped closer as if to inhale his essence. “Will you break your vows of celibacy and warm me this night then?”
She knew he was untried, but he failed to wonder how and question her further. He wanted nothing more than to be with her. “Aye, I am yours.”
Thank you for coming by.
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