by
Pages: 308
Pages: 308
Pages: 344
Pages: 344
A vampire mage, a Romani young man, and a love that won't be denied.
Lord Taliesin Solitaire was born albino, cursed mute by the fey, and betrayed by a vampire lover. For two hundred years the vampire mage has vowed never to love again and has only used sex as a means to a meal. Until a palm-reading gypsy finds himself in peril and Taliesin can’t resist rescuing the beautiful young man.
Pesha Sinclair is the eldest but smallest son of King Vaida Sinclair, the oppressive ruler of the Kåle Romani Compania. Deemed impure by his father, Pesha is shunned and mistreated by his band and four half-brothers, and one brother in particular wants him dead. His pale, silent savior gives him safety, security and a love he never could have imagined. As Pesha falls in love with his handsome white knight, his half-brother does the unthinkable.
Can Taliesin rescue Pesha from the cruel clutches of his half-brother a second time?
Publisher: Men Over the Rainbow
Cover Artists:
Translators:
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 5
Romantic Content: 4
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: 18-25
Protagonist 2 Age: Ageless/Immortal
Tropes: Age Difference, Class Differences, Cultural Differences, Forbidden Love, Hurt / Comfort, Rescue, True Love
Word Count: 46,000
Setting: Wales
Languages Available: English, French
Lord Taliesin Solitaire walked along the waterfront taking in the familiar scent of the Irish Sea. It was an unusually warm December evening in Wales along about ten, and he hoped to stave off yet another night of interminable loneliness by walking the boardwalk from end to end. Memories of his beloved—and equally loathed—Christophe plagued him still and, after two hundred years, he knew they would haunt him for the remainder of his unnatural existence. He’d learned to bear them without repining.
As a rule, he wore his hooded woolen cloak no matter the climate to hide his appearance and shield his sensitive lavender eyes. But tonight he didn’t give two ffyrlingau what people thought of his appearance and carried it over his arm. Llewellyn’s balls, it was the year 2016 and albinism wasn’t a plague.
READ MOREWell, he did care about his appearance to a degree he supposed, his vanity not quite lost in his years. He’d bound his nearly floor-length white hair in a single braid in an effort to minimize attentions—and was thankful that his aristocratic pulchritude offset his distinctly nacreous skin. His striking good looks were a gift from his beautiful Catalonian mother. His Welsh father, while of high station, was simply plain save his large blue eyes, of course.
Although the humans’ acceptance of preternaturals made life easier for him, in many ways the information age of the twenty-first century made it harder. The laws governing vampires were restrictive, and apart from his daughter and a few entrusted servants, he was isolated, and if at all possible, his vampirism cast a greater morbid pall over his existence than his albinism. Though turned at a youthful and fit thirty-six years of age, his two centuries as un mort-vivant had stolen his verve. He often wondered whether eternal life was worth the perfect loneliness.
Read more of Chapter 1 here.
COLLAPSE
