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    The Vampire's Assistant: A Paranormal Vampire and Witch Women's Fiction Romance: The Vampires of Emberbury, #0
    The Vampire's Assistant: A Paranormal Vampire and Witch Women's Fiction Romance: The Vampires of Emberbury, #0
    The Vampire's Assistant: A Paranormal Vampire and Witch Women's Fiction Romance: The Vampires of Emberbury, #0
    Ebook133 pages1 hourThe Vampires of Emberbury

    The Vampire's Assistant: A Paranormal Vampire and Witch Women's Fiction Romance: The Vampires of Emberbury, #0

    By Eva Alton

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    About this ebook

    JULIA RECEIVES A JOB OFFER FROM AN ENIGMATIC VAMPIRE. Her only alternative? Death... or worse.

    An empty tomb. A secret, magical world hidden beneath a cemetery. A forbidden paranormal romance. A unique opportunity to find magic and love among the creatures of the night.

    PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES AWARDED WITH THE SILVER STAKE PRIZE AT THE VAMPIRE ARTS FESTIVAL 2020.

     

    Imagine finding out you are a witch after thirty...

    When Julia's husband dies, she thinks her life is over. And it might soon be, unless she accepts an enigmatic vampire's offer...
    "An empty grave. A magical world beneath a graveyard. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to find magic and love among the creatures of the night."

     

    When Julia asks her deceased husband to take her with him, she doesn't expect an answer. But when it's vampires who hear her request, she's given a choice: follow her husband to the hereafter... or become a witch and assist the undead. As Julia tries to solve the mystery of her husband's death, she will get to know Ludovic, a charming Italian vampire who pledged to never fall in love with a witch again.

     

    The Vampire's Assistant is a short witch and vampire mystery and paranormal romance and it's the first instalment in the Stray Witch Paranormal Women's Fiction Series.

     

    Praise for The Vampire's Assistant:

    "The Vampire's Assistant is a beautifully written love story, somehow both dark and tragic and sweet and refreshing, all at once. A must read for any lover of the paranormal. Or anyone else, for that matter. I couldn't put it down!" (E. S., Goodreads Reviewer)

     

    "It was fascinating to learn about both Julia and Francesca's history. I hadn't guessed that either of them had experienced so much." (E. H., Goodreads reviewer)

     

    OTHER TITLES IN THE VAMPIRES OF EMBERBURY SERIES:

    • Stray Witch (Book 1)
    • Witch's Mirror (Book 2)
    • Witches' Masquerade (Book 3)
    • Witches' Elements (Book 4)
    • The Vampire's Assistant (A Prequel: Julia and Francesca's story. It's the perfect fast, engrossing introduction to a new vampire series with an adult female protagonist, and the prequel to The Vampires of Emberbury Series by Eva Alton.)
    • A Winter's Cobalt Kiss: A Vampire Christmas in the World of Stray Witch
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherEva Alton
    Release dateMay 6, 2020
    ISBN9781393314226
    The Vampire's Assistant: A Paranormal Vampire and Witch Women's Fiction Romance: The Vampires of Emberbury, #0
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      Book preview

      The Vampire's Assistant - Eva Alton

      Praise for Eva Alton’s Books:

      Combines the best of the paranormal genre with the best of romance.

      I would read it a thousand times over.

      An incredibly original and unique take on vampires and witches. It dazzled me from beginning to end.

      "I read it every spare moment I had.

      Engaging, entertaining, and utterly captivating...

      You won’t be able to put it down until the very end."

      ​Other books by Eva Alton:

      The Vampires of Emberbury Series

      Stray Witch

      Witch’s Mirror

      Witches’ Masquerade

      Witches’ Elements

      A Winter’s Cobalt Kiss

      The Vampire’s Assistant

      Witches of Ibiza Series:

      Iris – The Witch’s Blood Spell

      Selena – Wolf Moon

      Mina – Spirits of Shadows

      Historical Fantasy

      Hidden Notes

      Join Eva Alton’s exclusive VIP readers club and enjoy a free copy of the novel The Vampire’s Assistant. Become a member now by clicking here.

      That’s the point I’m coming to, said Sancho; and now tell me, which is the greater work, to bring a dead man to life or to kill a giant?

      The answer is easy, replied Don Quixote; it is a greater work to bring to life a dead man.

      The History of Don Quixote

      Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

      Prologue

      Francesca

      Summer 1981

      I only kill those who wish to die.

      When I saw Julia Reighton for the first time, not long after the latest war, she was kneeling over an empty tomb with dewy eyes. War widows were often resilient little creatures, but that one seemed too lost to bounce back, which in turn, made her an ideal candidate for one of my charity projects.

      After the war, Saint Emery’s graveyard became one of my favorite places to spend the evenings and pursue what I liked to call conscientious hunting. The cemetery was small and enchanting, just like the one at home; but unlike our homely Saint Anne’s, which had been abandoned for at least a century, Saint Emery was always bursting with grieving souls who often converted willingly into limp, guiltless victims.

      Little did I know that behind Julia Reighton’s defeated façade inhabited a fierce individual who would change the way our clan had lived up to that very day.

      The unexpected advent of that rare human specimen gifted me with a daughter and a sister.

      But robbed me of a brother.

      It would take me a long time to come to terms with Julia’s paradox, and had I known the turmoil she carried with her, I might have consummated my plans and executed her that very night without a second thought.

      But Ludovic didn’t let me, and that was how we ended up sheltering an ancient rival’s blood under the vaults of The Cloister.

      Chapter 1

      Julia

      Emberbury, July 1946

      "My name is Julia, and I am a widow.

      Just another war widow."

      Looking at the leather-bound diary, I stared at those perturbing words, then crossed them out in a fit of rage. Memories of Gabriel’s useless funeral flooded my mind, and the pressure inside my chest threatened to make my heart explode.

      The thought of explosions made me even angrier, as it reminded me of Gabriel’s demise. Hastily, I sought the pendant around my neck. The cold, grounding metal sent me back to the present and to the mahogany bureau desk I was sitting at. The room where I was penning my thoughts was windowless but lavishly decorated: just a small part of a secret underground dwelling beneath a graveyard, which I now called my home. My mind traveled to the day when everything had started: that evening I had been given a choice between serving the dead and joining their ranks.

      I had chosen the former.

      SAINT EMERY, 4 MONTHS earlier.

      A dozen black roses adorned the carved granite headstone in Saint Emery’s cemetery. It was getting late, but I wasn’t the only woman kneeling in front of the cold stone on just another post-war evening.

      I was young and free, with a future in front of me. The return of peace was supposed to bring our lives back to normal. Normal or not, I didn’t care much for whatever the future might bring, especially not now that Gabriel was gone forever.

      Visiting his tomb was a source of unexpected satisfaction, and sometimes I wondered whether I was more in love with the ghost than I had been with the man himself. I had known Gabriel for such a brief time before his deployment that memories blended with imaginings in an indivisible whole. Did I love him or his memory? It was hard to decide, since my fondness for darkness dated back to my childhood, to the day my baby brother and mother had died in childbirth. Back then, I had become fascinated with death and its eerie choices. Gabriel’s memory had just given me leeway to commune with those demons guiltlessly. Nobody blamed a widow for her hopelessness in 1946.

      The rest of the grieving women gradually left. After darkness fell, I was the only one to remain on the graveyard grounds. I liked to stay until closing time, because that gave me the freedom to talk aloud to my deceased husband. Obviously, he never answered, but it was easier to cry when nobody was watching.

      Gabriel, if only I could see you again, I murmured, lighting a candle and trying to remember the last time we’d been together. They had sent him abroad soon after our wedding, and he had soon after become yet another piece of collateral damage. I wish I could be reunited with you.

      I could help you with that, someone answered.

      Startled, I jolted on the spot. Had the angel statues answered my plea? Or had it been... Gabriel’s ghost?

      But it had been none of those: just a tiny young woman, who was standing right behind me.

      I hadn’t seen her around Saint Emery before, but she looked just like another one of us: yet another girl who lost a loved one to the horror: a husband, a father, a brother... maybe all of those at the same time. This lady might look wealthier than the regular widows who hovered around Saint Emery, but I had learned that death wasn’t picky with its subjects.

      Do we know each other? I asked her, taking in her eccentric clothes, which might have come straight from my grandmother’s closet. She had long, blond hair, rolled up and pinned with care, and it glistened mysteriously in the light of the many lit candles of the graveyard. Something in her bearing told me she came from money, unlike me.

      Does our acquaintance matter, as long as I’m willing to help you? Her smile reminded me of the funerary sculptures around us: oddly heavenly, but leaning toward irrational. She spoke with a sweet, slight Italian accent. If you want to meet your husband again, I have a way to provide what your heart longs for.

      My dear lady, whoever you are, you are not above God, and I doubt you can raise the dead.

      I stood up, offended by her insolent interruption. I’d come back tomorrow, once she was gone.

      "I didn’t speak of raising the dead, but of helping you meet them, signora."

      Excuse me, but I don’t like the turn this conversation is taking, I said angrily, wiping my still damp eyes on my sleeve. The girl looked harmless, so reedy and small, but her sense of humor wasn’t much to my liking. I didn’t feel like being made fun of or arguing, so I postponed my grieving for the next day and left.

      Gabriel certainly wouldn’t mind the waiting.

      That was one of the advantages of having dates with dead people. That, and they rarely contradicted you.

      They were good listeners, too.

      As I crossed the gates of the cemetery and left Gabriel’s tomb behind, I could still feel the blonde woman’s presence behind me, like a haunting, dark shadow.

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