Gourmand Hag
Kevin L. O'Brien
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Text Copyright 2013 by Kevin L. O'Brien
Cover design and typography copyright 2013 by Kevin L. O'Brien
Blackadder ITC Standard font distributed under a Monotype Imaging Font Software End User License by Bob Anderton and the International Typeface Corporation
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License Notes
Please consider writing a review for this book on the retailer's website.
If you see any misspellings or typographical errors, please notify Kevin L. O'Brien using one of his online social networks. Thank you.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, including those based on the real world, are either products of the imagination of Kevin L. O'Brien or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Because some ebook platforms do not support special characters, certain words may appear misspelled, but this was done deliberately to avoid the problem of the platforms deleting the characters. Also, the LRF platform used by older models of the Sony Reader does not permit the use of links to external URLs, whereas the PDB platform used by Palm reading devices does not support any form of linking whatsoever. Finally, certain words use British instead of American spelling, to simulate the characters' English accents.
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Table of Contents
Preface
Gourmand Hag
About the Author
Other Books by Kevin L. O'Brien
Connect with Kevin L. O'Brien
Sample Excerpts
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Preface
For her to one day assume full control of the Caerleon Order, Sir Differel Van Helsing must be extensively trained. Aelfraed is teaching her how to perform her administrative duties, while Mr. Holt oversees her combat training--hand-to-hand, fighting with a dagger (with help from Aelfraed), pistol marksmanship (with help from Vlad), fencing, and kendo (both to teach her swordsmanship). However, almost from the beginning Differel felt the calling of her Pendragon ancestry, and frequently expressed the desire to hunt monsters with Vlad. Her staff refused to allow it, but while Vlad supported her, he would not permit her to accompany him until he was confident she knew what she was doing. That means additional training under his specific supervision.
His methods are unusual, to say the least, and sometimes she doesn't quite see the point of the exercises, but she trusts him enough to go along with his instruction, even if she thinks much of what they do is a waste of time, and she is slowly learning the lessons he seeks to teach. However, there are some lessons she cannot learn through training, but only from experience. Assuming she survives.
This story takes place in the summer of 1989, ten months after the events in "Oak Do Hate". It also contains references to cannibalism and a nude prepubescent girl. Reader discretion is advised.
Back to TOC
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Sir Differel Van Helsing flattened her back against the oak tree and held her breath while willing herself to ignore the pounding of her pulse in her ears. The woods on her estate were darker than normal that night, because in addition to the moon being in the new phase there was heavy cloud cover, obscuring the stars.
Vlad was out there, somewhere, hunting her. She had to keep on the move if she didn't want to get caught, but she couldn't run blindly. She had to have some idea of his location, so she paused at regular intervals, to catch her breath, but also to try to detect him. She didn't rely on her eyes; it was far too dark to see more than a yard around her. Unless she spotted his glowing red pupils, but at that point he would be close enough to see her heat aura. She might catch a glimpse of his silhouette moving across a lighter background, but there would be few of those on a pitch-black night.
Instead, she listened for any unusual sound, no matter how quiet, like rustling grass, creaking branches, or the scrape of shoes on rocks or exposed roots, but if he was close enough to hear his breathing he would be practically on top of her. Releasing her breath, she inhaled deeply yet quietly several times. He had a distinctive odor, a combination of musty crypt, earthy loam, and the citric-rust of fresh blood, but she smelled nothing except the fragrant green and sour bark scents of the woods. Sometimes she wished Vampires gave off a foul stench like the legends claimed; that would make it easier to track them.
As she listened and sniffed, she also concentrated on her skin sense. It was hard for her to describe what that was like. She imagined it was similar to a cat using its whiskers to feel the movement of air around it, except she used the tiny hairs on her exposed arms, legs, and cheeks. The natural goosepimpling of her flesh due to her anxiety made it easier to perceive those weak currents, being as the hairs were extended erect above the skin. She sometimes wondered if that explained her growing ability to awaken, even out of a sound sleep, whenever a presence entered her room.
However, she also suffered from a serious handicap. She was in the midst of her period, and Vlad had previously told her he could smell her more easily during those days of the month. The onset of menarche had occurred six months before, so she figured it was something she would have to learn how to compensate for.
The hunt was part of the Master Vampire's training regimen, to teach her how to evade paranormal creatures. He had explained that when it came to hunting monsters, it was often easy to find the tables had been turned and the hunter had become the prey; besides, stalking was practically the same as evading. Those late night sessions were no different from the hide and seek games they had played together for four months after she had released him from the sarcophagus over a year ago.
Except those had seemed like light-hearted fun. It wasn't until he started the new phase that she discovered just serious they were actually meant to be. Once she had demonstrated she could successfully hide from him in the house, he had switched to the outdoors for the evasion lessons. He had also progressed from merely touching her to attacking her. He couldn't actually harm her, but he could scare her half to death, and despite the fact that she expected it, he always found some visage that, when combined with surprise, terrified her.
They had been at it for nine months, and she did show improvement. For the first four or five months he had caught her after only five minutes, sometimes sooner, and each time he had explained what she had done wrong. That it had been winter didn't help. At first she had been despondent, convinced she would never learn, while later she had become angry, suspecting he might have been cheating. Finally she had begun to comprehend what he was trying to tell her, and with that revelation she had started doing better. Her time before capture had increased, at first slowly, but then it seemed to grow exponentially. She was currently up to one hour; she hoped to increase it to two before the month was out.
She heard a twig snap off to her left. Is that him, she wondered? There were no animals on the estate large enough to break twigs that size, except the horses, and they should all be in the stables for the night. There shouldn't be any guards out either. She had instructed Giles Holt, her Master-at-Arms, to keep the woods clear during their exercises. Even so, her Vampire servant could be pretty light on his feet, even with his heavy shoes. She still wasn't particularly good at judging distances, but it had to be further away than three meters, though not more than ten; any closer and he would see her, while any further and she wouldn't have been able to hear it.
That was still too close, though. She edged around the trunk in a careful manner to be as silent as possible, putting the tree between her and the noise. She intended to use it as cover when she moved out. She paused for a moment to listen for any more sounds, before sighting her next landmark, another large oak perhaps a dozen meters aw
ay. She hurried towards it, trying to step lightly over the forest debris littering the ground. The soft-soled slippers she wore gave her an advantage there.
A gigantic form loomed up in front her, mutilated, bloody, and cadaverous, with taloned hands, glowing red eyes, and a wide-open mouth full of sharp fangs and a long dangling tongue. "BOOO!!"
Traumatized, she pulled up short and jumped back, giving a compulsive shriek. Then her temper flared as the form changed into that of her servant.
"You bloody wanker! You're going to give me a heart attack one night!" She switched on her torch and shined the light on him.
"You are too young for that, My Master." He was tall,