“Kill Bill” meets “Blade” in this loose retelling of “The Count of Monte Cristo.”
Betrayed. Humiliated. Enslaved by vampires. Now it’s her turn to hunt them.
21-year-old college student Raven Alexander’s life is shattered when she’s betrayed by the person she trusted most.
Locked inside an inescapable supernatural prison and turned into a blood-sucking monster, Raven becomes the plaything of the vampire elites. If they have their way, she’ll be forced to fight and kill for their amusement for the rest of her (undead) life.
Just when she’s about to lose the last remnants of her hope and sanity, she hears whispers about a secret vampire-hunting organization whose base is hidden on a remote island. If she can somehow escape the inescapable prison, locate the base, and undergo the organization’s grueling training, she’ll become a force that can give even the vampires nightmares.
She will remember their names. And she will have her revenge.
Blood Heat is the first novel in M.W. Arita’s THE VAMPIRE BLADE, an action-packed new adult urban fantasy series filled with breath-taking twists and turns, steamy romance, and more vampires than you can shake a stake at!
From the Book…
I never imagined my final moments would be lying by my lover’s side on a cold castle floor, covered in mud, blood, and sweat while the vampires surrounded us. Nor had I imagined I’d only be able to cross three names off my list before biting the dust.
“Bloodsucker motherfuckers,” I hissed through gritted teeth.
A broad-chested man struggled to his feet across from me and faced our enemies. Rain droplets dripped from his bushy blond locks. His smoke-colored vest and pants were ripped and torn all over. An emerald-shaded cravat poked out from underneath his collar. He swiped at the monsters with a broken rapier.
“Stay away!” he yelled in a thick Scottish accent. “Stay away, ya clarty bastards!”
Thunder boomed outside. Rain crashed against the clattering windows.
Flashes of lightning–and the warm glow of candelabras–illuminated the hideous creatures’ faces. Bags of flesh hung under their crimson eyes. Atrophied muscle and sinews dangled from their bones like a spider on the end of a web. If I wasn’t already in so much pain, I would’ve vomited from the foul stench of rotting meat and dried blood emanating from their bodies. One of them approached the man from behind and drew back a handful of sharp claws.
“Donovan!” I cried. “Behind you!”
But my warning came too late.
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