I Am A Vampire Novels & Stories

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,

My name is Arabella. I sold 20 years of my life to become a vampire’s attendant after my father’s death in order to help my family. I should have been scared of blood and fangs, but instead, I long for my master's touches. What I didn't know was that my desire for him would bring me nothing but destruction. ***“You taste delicious.” He licks his lips, pulling me closer to him.The warmth of his skin against mine, and the soothing rhythm of his beating heart calms me a bit. I relax my shoulders and lie there with my head on his chest.“Ara, I'm your master and it’s my responsibility to keep you safe, but I failed today.”His words sound sincere, and I really wish I could believe him. But all vampires are monsters.He just happens to be the monster I wish I could trust.My Vampire Master: A Contract of Blood and Lust is created by Angeline Hartwood, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

In the Santoro family, there was one rule: the heir marries a daughter from another powerful Family. But Alessio Santoro was crazy. He wanted to marry me, a nobody from a flower shop. He knelt in the family chapel for ten days straight. He even took a bullet fired by his own father, the Don. All just to walk away from his title and run away with me. I held him, crying, begging him to stop. He just smiled and kissed my eyes, wiping my tears. "Don't cry, Thea. As long as I can marry you, it's all worth it." In the end, the Santoros relented. But they had one condition: Alessio would still produce the next heir. Just not with me. He had to have a son with Aurelia Rossi. So I endured. I endured listening to them through the wall, night after agonizing night. I endured the smell of her perfume on his skin, the sight of her marks on his neck every time he kissed me. A year later, Aurelia got pregnant. It was a girl. Alessio begged me, his eyes red. "Just a little longer, Thea." So I waited another year. Finally, news came. Aurelia was pregnant with a boy. I thought we could finally leave, finally be free. But then disaster struck. Aurelia’s daughter had a sudden, violent allergic reaction. Everyone blamed me. They threw me in the cellar and left me to die. And Alessio? He believed them. This time, I was the one who gave up. I walked away from everything.

I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother. Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother." But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings. My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back. I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me. Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low. In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced: "This is Luke's mother---my wife." The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness. And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me. That was when I finally understood. My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother. And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.

WARNING: **This story is about a love so forbidden and a passion so intense, it might just burn you. Consider yourself warned.** ____ "Lucian shouldn’t have been near you,” he growled, his voice rough velvet. “I told them you’re under my protection. Under me.” ___ He is Manhattan’s most ruthless CEO. Cold. Powerful. Untouchable. But behind the sharp suits and devilish smirk hides a secret darker than the night itself— Joachim Knight is a vampire. When Yvette, a scandal-chased celebrity agent, crashes into his world, she expects another arrogant billionaire with too much money and no soul. What she finds instead is danger wrapped in seduction, a man who makes the air crackle with heat every time he’s near. His kiss burns like fire. His touch feels like sin. And his possessive words leave her trembling: "You’re mine, Yvette. Under my protection. Under me." But the more she craves him, the more she discovers the monstrous truth he hides— and the blood-soaked secrets that could ruin them both. In a world of lies, power, and forbidden hunger, will she resist the Devil’s kiss… or surrender to the dark passion of a 570 year old vampire who would destroy anyone who dares to touch her?

Maria Gemma Mendoza was no ordinary student. Brilliant, disciplined, and admired, she rose to become the student head of Amarillo University. Yet her world collapsed when whispers spread that her father, Edward Mendoza, had embezzled funds from a powerful corporation. The scandal stained her reputation, and the once-proud halls of Amarillo turned hostile, its pupils eager to tarnish her name. Fate intervened in the most unexpected way. In a chance encounter, Gemma discovered that her disgraced father was not only innocent but had once been the King’s closest confidant. Moved by loyalty and justice, the King vowed to help Gemma restore her father’s honor and reclaim all that had been unjustly taken. But his promise came with a condition: Gemma must serve as the personal maid to the chosen heir, Prince Augustus Cynfael Clemente—the enigmatic, unknown prince destined for the throne. To fulfill this pact, the King admitted Gemma into Borstal International School, an elite academy reserved exclusively for boys. Her arrival shocked the institution; she was the lone female among its ranks. Yet her presence in Prince Augustus’s life ignited fury rather than acceptance. To him, Gemma was an intrusion, a reminder of obligations he despised. He resolved to drive her away, believing cruelty and torment would be the surest weapons. But torment has a way of unraveling into something unexpected. Hatred gave way to reluctant care, and care began to stir emotions Augustus had long buried. As Gemma endured his wrath, she also awakened his heart. Their story became one of dangerous contradictions—of pain entwined with tenderness, of duty colliding with desire. Will Prince Augustus defy the King’s sacred decree for love? And when the moment comes, can Gemma say I do to a man who was never meant to be hers?

Moments before my Mating Ceremony, the guards shoved me from the altar. I watched, paralyzed, as another she-wolf in a pristine white gown took my place. My mate, Beta Seth, didn't even flinch. He took her hand—the hand of his childhood sweetheart, Brielle. And in that silence, his voice echoed in my head through the mind link. "Brielle is pregnant with a rogue's pup. She's mateless. I have to claim her, give her a home in the pack. It's to protect the child. I won't actually mark her. When this is all over, you'll still be my only one." I almost believed his bullshit. Until I saw Seth's hand stroking Brielle's waist after the ceremony. And Brielle, pulling him in for a kiss. In that moment, my eyes burned, and I was rooted to the spot. Seth thought I'd wait. Everyone who watched me pine for him thought I'd come crawling back, begging him to complete our bond. After all, we were fated mates. I'd been waiting for this ceremony for five years. But they had no idea. I turned my back on the pack and left. The moment that failed ceremony ended, I bonded with Lucian. The most powerful Vampire Prince. Three years later, I came back. Lucian called for a truce with the werewolves—all for me. As his mate, I returned to my former pack lands to witness the treaty. But the first thing my arrogant ex-fated mate did was rip the huge moonstone pendant off my neck. "That's the Vampire Prince's moonstone. He bought it for his blood-bonded mate years ago. Where did you get that cheap knock-off? A street stall?" "Enough with the tantrum. Come back. Brielle's kid is three. You can have a cot in the utility closet and clean up after him. Now take that cheap thing off your neck. Don't screw up the peace treaty." I just stood there, rubbing the sore spot on my neck where the chain had scraped, and let out a quiet sigh. He didn’t know that the moment anyone tried to rip this pendant from my throat, Lucian would feel it. And the only thing that would greet them… was his world-ending fury.

Angels and devils ruled the city of Los Angeles. It was in the deep underbelly of the sparkling done-up town that I found him. Where I found the devil himself. A god in human form. A devil in every way. I fell for him, tumbled towards him like a bowling ball to some easily knocked down pins. Yet, I lost him. You never mess with a gang, I messed with the leaders of all leaders, I messed with Angeles.

This isn't a love story, but almost a love story. Irina and Eric share a world through dreams and time travel. They have a strong mutual understanding about the feelings they have for each other, at the same time understanding that they cannot be together. Eric: I open my eyes and find myself standing alone in an empty room. The ceilings and the walls are neatly painted white. And the floor is composed of polished light brown wood. And there is a dark brown framed window at one corner where the light comes from. A bright yellow and pale red orange light tells me the sun is setting and soon it will be dark. Eric is a ghost who always appears in Irina's dream. Irina: I open the door to the bedroom. There is a dark brown framed window at one corner where the light is coming from. The yellow orange light passes through the open window. I see Eric standing right there on the spot captured by the yellow light. ‘You came back.’ I said. He stood there looking me in the eye. I almost died. Irina is a time traveler who may or may not change his fate. They alternatively tell a bitter sweet story. Love doesn't always mean together, sometimes it is deeper apart. Eric: I stand alone in the rain looking at the dark sky where all I can see is water, for it is both the rain and my tears flowing to my face. Irina: And suddenly it is no longer my reflection I see inside the mirror. What I see now is a figure of a man. I draw closer to see him clearly. But the closer I walk towards him, the farther I become from him. I couldn't get close.

“Miss Green, the results show that you have late-stage pancreatic cancer. The situation isn’t good for you. If you give up on treatment, you might have less than a month left. Are you sure you don’t want to receive treatment? Will your husband agree to it?” “I’m sure that… he will.” After I hung up, I surveyed the empty house and felt sadness fill every fiber of my heart. I had thought that the pain I felt was due to my dear old friend, gastritis, but it was cancer. I sighed and looked at the picture on the table. The eighteen-year-old Zach Stone stared at me in the photo. It had been years since, but I still remembered how the snow had fallen on my hair. At that time, Zach had smiled and asked whether this counted as us growing old together.