Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Lorelei Bell has created another unique and mesmerizing mystery masterwork that tops its prequel, Vampire Ascending, in drama, fast-paced action, love, passion, heartache, and devastation. New friends, new adventures, shocking revelations, and harrowing experiences make for riveting reading in this second installment of the Sabrina Strong Series.
Sabrina learns more details - through Vasyl's recounting of his human and vampire life - of what her role as a sibyl means and how the past and the future will come together. She finally learns what role Vasyl has played in his search for the next sibyl and why she is so tremendously important.
As Sabrina's partner, Dante, puts himself at risk to help all of mankind, Sabrina learns why newcomer, Bill Gannon, is so interested in her, and she works to protect Bjorn Tremayne from losing it all. Sabrina's past catches up to her, and she discovers that not everyone is, or was, what she thought. New characters, some kind and trustworthy, and some not, contribute to a captivating story line, and Sabrina finds herself on a journey she never thought possible.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
I think I was lucky as a teenager to be able to stay up late to watch the old Dracula movies when they came on, and of course, the Lee-Cushing duo of Dracula vs. van Helsing are simply one of the staples of my Dracula movie diet.
This offering, "Count Dracula and His Vampire Brides" never made it to the American TV becasue of brief, yet repeated nudity--a woman on an altar. Set in modern England, it is quite British. Police investigate the murder of a man who was sent in to spy, and his accusations of several up-standing men involved in some Satanic rituals have them consult Van Helsing (but, of course!).
I have to say, the new twist on the Dracula/Van Helsing story was fresh to me. Dracula was his old horrible self, hording his vampire women chained up in a crypt-like basement of a mansion (the one where the devil worshipers gathered). I'm not sure why they were chained up, but the scene where they attack Van Helsing's granddaughter was pretty good. I loved the fangs they used in these Hammer movies. And Dracula could not have been more sexy (for 1974), in one scene where he comes into a room where a woman is kept, and she is very much anticipating his moves on her.
The story basically is that Dracula has enslaved a bio-chemist to develope a very fast-acting, deadly strain of the bubonic plague to destroy the human race. Cushing (Van Helsing), realizes it is his secret desire to erradicate all of the human race and to go down in a Armagedon-style glory. Of course our modern-day, chain-smoking Van Helsing must stop him--seeing that he is the modern generation of his great-grandfather--and the clock is ticking away to midnight when this deadly strain is to be unleashed.
I liked this one. Christopher Lee at least spoke his lines and was somewhat more convinicingly diabolical. His eyes turned red too. I think I was told that he somehow had to irritate them--possibly with salt?--in order to get this look. The things they did for their rolls even in the '70's. The effects were pretty cool at the end.
Hammer Films churned these out one after the other. This one may have been one of the last, as it was filmed in 1974. If you find this one, it's worth the buy. I recommend "Count Dracula and His Vampire Bride".
Monday, September 26, 2011
I've been neglecting the blogs I keep. They are sorry little puppies a little hungry for attention.
Well, today I hit 80,716 words, and 214 pages, and am working on chapter 23 in Crimson, my fourth Sabrina Strong book in series.
The title to this post is the very first thing I jotted down in a notebook I was using to keep such things in. I had this character in my head and she had pink slippers on.
My entries look like disjointed notes. Having nothing to do with each other, if you didn't know what it was all about. I do. If someone found this they'd go "huh?"
Not all the things I've jotted in here is used. Usually it is, but not always. I discard it. That is why a notebook is kept.
I began this fourth novel in July. I thought I was moving along pretty quickly, considering I worked 5 days a week--back in the summer, but now I have Mondays off. And it helps me get something done.
I've been having a time of it, however, since I've invented two of my worst villains. I don't know how this will come across, but one is a child molester. I, of course, will make sure that my heros stop my villains in time. But I've been worried about this the whole time I've written it.
Have you ever written a very bad, or evil person and worried how people will think of you/your book?
Thursday, September 22, 2011
You ever have those moments where you think about a possible next book. Yeah, I could do this, it sounds really good. But it's still undeveloped. Which is where I was after this weekend.
Oh, I'm not done with the fourth book in the Sabrina Strong series. I do want to begin my mystery series--I hope to this winter, after I get somethings figured out for it.
And there's another one nipping at my heals, and I keep on pushing it back as well. Probably will never get written, unless I win big money and don't have to work for a living.
And then, there I was minding my own business, and it jumped me. The idea. And it wasn't even an idea it was a sentence and then another and it kept coming and I said, "Oh. My. God! That's it! That's what I need to work on next.
The idea came to me as I pondered actually going ahead with this NaNoWriMo in November. I kept thinking "what are you thinking? With everything you need to do, and with a second book coming out at some point in the fall, where the hell are you going to have time to write 50K words in 30 days?"
No. No. And double-NO!!!
I'm not the kind who can just start typing and not look at my mistakes and go back over them. Can't. Sorry. Just not in me.
And why would I want to try and do this in 30 days when I can do it in 60, or 90 days?
But anyway, when I looked further into this NaNoWriMo, I realized there is no real prize. Oh. Yeah, you get to post the little do-dad on your blog that says you went through hell, made your family all go through hell while you sat at the computer or whatever and hammered out something that probably looks like a manuscript that went through the garbage disposal. Oh, but December is when you can go through it.
B.S. If I want to write something that means something to me, I will write it and I don't need no contest to make me do it. Thus, I won't be there, even though my picture is there. Don't bother coming around seeing if I'm there I'm not there.
The reason is, is because this story began in my head NOW. Not two, three or four weeks from now.
Here is the first sentenses of the work:
The beatings stopped after my mother died. I don't know why.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Saturday, August 13, 2011
|Lorelei Bell is author of |
new vampire novel,
Ho-hum. I'm neither afraid for her, nor can I actually relate to her.
What I have never liked about this sort of book is when I open up and read about a woman who is stalking vampires, or demons, she has either a special gun, or uses her fists to do the job. I once read that the character broke off the heal of her boot in order to drive it through a vampire's heart. Well, nice to have the money to go out and buy another pair of shoes! But also, she winds up walking lop-sided because the 3 or 4" heal is missing on one boot. That's neither realistic, nor does it make me say, "You Go Girl!" The rough and tumble girl gets very old, very quickly for me. Okay, she kicks ass. I get it. What makes her vulnerable? What makes her likable? Why do I care about her???
I can never relate to that sort of woman and this is why. Once upon a time I tried taking a Marshal arts class, and I hated it and after the second class I quit. I was afraid I'd get hurt. It just didn't work for me. So, I have no experience whatsoever in such things, and am not about to start, since I'm closing in on retirement age, and I'm not going to fake it either, just to get readers.
|the original kick-ass vampire slayer|
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
I went snooping around in photobucket this afternoon. They sure have some great stuff there. Some of it moves and some of it doesn't.
And I really liked this graveyard. . .
And this last picture makes me think of the female vampire character in my next Sabrina Strong Series.
This is Ilona Tremayne, a psychic vampire. But she does have fangs, sort of looks nasty like this one does:
Ilona Tremayne singlehandedly--with help of her underlings--kills several vampires in my first book Vampire Ascending.
You'll want to know how, before you read the second book, Vampire's Trill, because Sabrina gets to meet this bitch from hell. She really, really doesn't want to either.
Come to think of it, I wouldn't either. Would you?
Sunday, April 24, 2011
The word sibyl comes from the Latin/Greek sibylla, meaning prophetess.
From Collier's Encyclopedia: “SIBYL the name given by the Greeks and Romans to a prophetess inspired by Apollo or by some other deity. There were several sibyls in antiquity, of whom one, Herophile, prophesied the Trojan War. The most famous sibyl was the Cumaean, whose cavern at Cumae near Naples was excavated in 1932; in Vergil's Aeneid, she prophsied Aenea's future and guided him to the underworld. According to one tradition, Apollo offered this sibyl as many years of life as she had grains of sand in her hand. Having failed to ask also for continuing youth, however, she shriveled up until she was a tiny creature in a jar, whereupon, like Tithonus, she repented of her wish. Collections of the prophecies of the sibyls were know as the Sibylline Books. The Cumaean Sibyl offered to sell King Tarquin nine of these books. When he refused she burned three and offered six at the same price. Again he refused, and she burned three more, offering the remaining three at the same price. These the king purchased. Other books were later added to the collection, which the Romans consulted in time of emergency.”
The Pythia was directly possessed of the god while seated on the sacred tripod. The sibyl was inspired by the god.
Legend of the Dagger of Delphi
When the Sibyl of Delphi died, she was buried with her dagger, it is believed that some how her soul was drawn into the dagger. At some point between her death and the first century, The Dagger of Delphi was thought to have been lost forever, until a farmer found the ruins of her grave after discovering a cave in the Pyrenees. He returned with an oil lamp to the cave. After walking about a hundred feet in he discovered prehistoric paintings of animals. But further in, and down another corridor, he found a smaller cave. Here he discovered a small grave, inside it a wooden box, and a manuscript written on papyrus.
Not understanding the writing, or what he had found he decided to take both the manuscript and the box to monks who lived nearby in the mountains.
Of course the monks did not realize what they had until later on, one monk deciphered the writings and realized they had discovered one of the Sibylline Books.
This was the book of the Sibyl of Delphi whose other task in life, aside from a written account of her predictions and prophecies, depicted her tasks of ridding the earth of Nephilim (the off-spring of the Fallen Angels, or Watchers), as well as vampires and demons—who are related down through the ages through the line of Lilith.
It was not more than two months that the monastery was burnt, and all the monks were murdered. No one knew precisely what happened to the dagger or the manuscript, until thirty years later, it showed up in the hands of another monk by the name of Eusebius. If it were not for Eusebius, who came into possession of the Dagger of Delphi, the way of the sibyl would be lost forever, and the Nephilim would take over the world.
However, that is only the beginning of the story. It was not until the current millennium that another sibyl was born to rid the world of the terrifying creatures known as Nephilim. And the new struggle was begun.
Return for more hints, tidbits, scenes and background information for the Sabrina Strong Series in the second book "Vampire's Trill" ~ to come out later this year!!!
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
The sound of equipage approach made us turn toward the front gates again. Two magnificent white horses drawing it. I remembered it from when my night had begun, and I'd ridden in it to be brought back here.
“That must be Jett returning from his evening with Penelope.
“Let's not let them see us,” I said moving away from the front of the house.
“Why?” Drachen said, joining me in the cover of low bushes.
“Because I really don't want to have a confrontation.” We crouched down and waited as the carriage drew up, stopped and paused. No one got out, but I could hear voices from inside. They sounded like they were arguing, which pleased me to no end.
“This may take some time,” Drachen said low to me.
“That's alright,” I said. “By the way, do you like her?”
“She's alright, I guess. It's Jett who needs to like her, not me.” We both chuckled. “I also can't read her mind. Which is strange.”
I looked at him. “Really? You too? I can't get anything from her either.”
“Yes. Very strange,” he agreed.
“So, do you think she's a bitch?” I asked.
I heard him snort lightly. “Unequivocally. Yes.”
“Oh, I hate her guts,” I said and then snorted. It came out really gruff. Hell. I was shifting a little further into my creature. I could feel the slightest shiver of excitement go through me from head to toe. I felt both agitated and excited. I'd made my kill—such as it was, and now I wanted to mate; I was horny as hell—more so than before. I needed to get away from Drachen. I didn't want Drachen near me at this point; I didn't want him near me. It was as though I were choosing an alpha to be with and Drachen wasn't one. Jett was an alpha. Older, huskier, more worldly, and I felt he would be able to handle anything I dished out.
Finally the carriage rode off, leaving Jett standing on the cobblestone drive waving to it as it drove out of the gates.
Drachen was first to step out into the open, and sidled up to Jett.
“I thought she would never leave,” Jett sighed.
“Me too,” Drachen said. “Have a good evening?”
Jett shrugged. “I've had better. We quarreled nearly the whole time.”
Drachen chuckled. “You'll make a cute couple.”
“If you're trying to get on my good side, you're doing a bad job of it.”
Drachen chuckled again.
I stepped out of cover, unable to hold back a sudden snarl. I felt shivers going through me. The change into my creature had paused, or stopped completely. Possibly it was the difference in worlds. I wasn't sure, but my mind had not shifted to the animal, just as my body had not. Although I felt my teeth had become longer, sharper, as had the horrific claws at the ends of my fingers.
Both men turned toward me to gaze at my appearance in the moonlight. Did I look strange? I wasn't sure.
“Sabrina?” Jett said, a little surprised. “What are you doing out here?”
“Oh, we were on a killing mission,” Drachen said. “She dispatched a few more Dreadfuls.”
“I've got to say, she's very quick with that dagger,” Drachen said.
“Drachen, go inside. Now.” I growled.
Both men exchanged startled looks.
“She's a werewolf, by the way,” Drachen said. “Apparently, she wants you, cousin.” He slapped him on the back. “I'll be inside, if you should need me. Or need patching after.” Drachen chuckled, trudging toward the doors and slipped inside.
Jett stood looking at me for a few more heartbeats.
“Are you alright?” he wondered.
“Not alright,” I said with a slightly raspier voice.
“Can I help you . . . in any way?”
“Oh, yeah. You can help me.”
He stepped a little closer and stopped a few paces from me. “The last time I showed interest, you threw me.”
“I won't throw you this time,” I promised. “But I warn you, I might hurt you.”
He laughed and held out his hands. “You can't hurt me any more than I am already.”
“I didn't mean emotionally. I meant physically. I might bite you. I might cut you.” I held up my claw-tipped hands. I eyed them. Hell, I might hurt myself with them.
He stepped closer, taking in the claws. He reached out and placed a finger beneath the first three, and I clenched them slightly, almost like a bird on a twig. Our eyes met. His were black gems in the night, glimmering in the lights beneath the porte-cohere.
“Hmm,” his voice went up with a curious note. “That might be just what I need after tonight. Something to get my mind off it all, in fact.”
I let him step closer, and felt his overwhelming aura hit me. We stared at one another for a full minute. He was probably measuring my aura as well. I'm sure it had changed, or at least was ratcheted up quite a bit with my were-animal.
“Shall we go inside?” he wondered, gesturing toward the palace doors.
“No. I'd prefer we didn't.” Turning, I moved swiftly away, following a brick pathway—the same one I had earlier in the day—back into the gardens. I heard his heavier footfalls follow me as I padded along on lithe feet, enjoying a bit of a chase. But I didn't run. I didn't need to. I turned to look back at him over my shoulder. Stopping unsure, he stared after me. I shrugged off my coat and tossed it on the ground and moved along and then paused at the opening of the formal garden to find him trailing along behind me, pausing only when I paused.
Smiling, I half-turned, and pulled off my shirt, revealing my white, lacy bra. I saw his brows lift with peeked interest. I draped the shirt on a hedge, and strode into the garden. Once inside I pulled off my boots, one at a time, tossing one into the mint, the next one I let drop over my shoulder, like crumbs to follow. While I did a walking strip-tease, Jett appeared in the aperture of the garden where the arbor made an arched opening. Moving forward, his foot connected with one of my discarded boots. He looked down, then back up at me. I was currently peeling off my pants. I had his full attention now as I let my pants drop onto a rock wall, and stepped behind it, hiding myself from view.
I waited for him to enter this portion of the garden. When he did I stood proudly, tilting my head back slightly, allowing him an unobstructed view. “You want to remove the rest yourself?” I asked in a challenge.
“I might at that,” he said and closed the distance between us. His hands went to the clasp on that elegant black velvet cloak he wore. It slithered off his shoulders like a black waterfall.
I remained still watching to see what he would do next, doing my best to not rush into this. My desires coming to a crescendo I wanted to enjoy the moment, but I also couldn't wait all night; I'd waited long enough for my alpha to show. I clenched my fists, digging my nails—claws—into my palms trying to hold back from charging at him, and rip his clothes off. I actually wanted to bite him in places he might not like. Or, maybe he wouldn't mind so much.
“I'll feed off your life force, you know?” he said almost as a warning.
“I've got so much going through me, I think I've enough to spare,” I said with a shrug.
He looked around for a soft spot of ground. Choosing one, he spread the cloak out on clipped grass. I moved with him to the spot, and just when I wasn't sure how to intrigue him further, he grabbed me around the waist and hauled me against himself and smothered my lips with his. His kiss demanding; I kissed right back with enough force to make electricity as our mouths and tongues became like frantic animals trying to mate. Copyright 2011 Lorelei Bell