#ReleaseDay #Instict #HanleighBradley #Vampire Romance
💥💥📖֎֎ INSTINCT NEW RELEASE! 📖֎֎💥💥
I’m not like the vampires in your books, little girl. I’m not agonising over my own soul or the ethics of drinking your blood. I don’t want saving or to find some great love that will alter my very existence.
I’m not a monster. I’m the devil himself and I have no problem playing that role.
I take what I want and right now, what I want is you…
And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.
💥💥📖֎֎ INSTINCT SNEAK PEEK 📖֎֎💥💥
It’s been a long time since I was human. So long in fact that I can no longer recall the once precious memories of that small, insignificant fraction of time. The things that once mattered deeply to the human me, are long gone and completely forgotten.
I don’t remember my sister’s name or the sound of my mother’s voice. Neither can I recollect the face of the woman I once loved.
All I have now is time, blood and death.
Too much time. Never enough blood. And a death that comes to everyone but me.
Sitting in an almost completely hidden corner of the café, I watch her as she busies herself behind the counter. I can smell her blood from here as it pulses through her veins.
If I was human, the scent of her blood would be unnoticeable. Instead, I’d notice her large, sparkly eyes or something equally sickeningly sentimental. Or I’d lose my mind over her tiny waist and long legs – just like the human men around me.
I’m not the only one watching her. They are too. Dozens of them. Some sat alone, their eyes focused on her. Others in packs, talking about her in hushed voices so that she won’t hear as they place lots on the size of her breasts.
I’m not the only one that wants her. Nowhere close. But I’m the only one whose interest is deadly.
Another waitress approaches my table and asks for my order. She’s pretty, her blood is pulsing just like the other waitress, but it’s not the same.
Ordering an Americano, I barely look her way before returning my attention to the woman behind the counter.
Her hair is jet black and piled on her head in a bun. It’s messy, like she shoved it up on her way to work after sleeping in. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s about twenty-five or twenty-six.
There’s a book on the counter beside her and she keeps, as if instinctively, reaching for it. The pages are old, worn, some turned at the corner. It’s a book she’s read not once or twice but countless times.
“Farah, why don’t you take your break?” another employee says casually, his voice low.
She smiles at him, seemingly not registering the affect that small gesture has on him. Her hand once more reaches for the book, this time picking it up. Then she’s walking out from behind the counter.
A sea of eyes follows her as she makes her way across the room.
She walks right past my table and the scent of her blood is so potent that I almost follow her through the door labelled “staff only.”
Killing her would be quick. Easy. Done before anyone even noticed. But that would be a waste. Her blood was made to be savoured.
My eyes trained on the door, I wait, hopeful that she will return. I begin to count the seconds as I struggle to control myself. If I was a lesser Vampire, I’d be long gone through that door and Farah would already be dead.
More like stone than a person, I force myself to stay in my seat, barely even breathing as I wait impatiently. The other waitress returns with my coffee and I don’t so much as look at her.
She tries to make conversation, commenting that she’s never seen me here before. I don’t tell her that she’s right. I also don’t tell her that I followed Farah here. She’d be calling the police within seconds, not that they’d do her any good.
Another human calls out to the waitress and she has no choice but to leave me alone, her face crestfallen.
It’s almost an hour later when Farah returns, her book still in hand. Her eyes meet mine for a split second as she walks past my table again. I see fear there and it’s exhilarating.
My eyes follow her as she returns to her place behind the counter. I’m practically salivating at the mere idea of drinking her blood as I lean back in my chair, playing with my signet ring, seemingly at ease. I might look calm but I’m not. Nowhere close.
It would take seconds; I could be across the café in two, my fangs at her neck in half and she’d be dead in another three, long before the others around us would even realise that something was wrong.
The temptation is almost unbearable.
Standing, I pull out my wallet and drop a couple of notes on the table to pay for my coffee. Then I take a step towards her before hesitating. I tell myself not to waste her blood; a quick death just wouldn’t do her taste justice.
So, instead, I make to walk past her, telling myself that I can wait. Reaching out quicker than she can see, I take her dog-eared book from where she’s left it on the counter before making my way towards the door, all the while telling myself that I must not look back. It would only take a brief moment of hesitance for all my self-control to crumble.
Crossing the road, I settle in to wait for her shift to end. I lift her book to get a better look at it. My lips twitch when I see the cover. Her book is about Vampires.
It’s almost laughable. Only humans would fancy themselves in love with their natural predator.
I wait for her outside, long after the café closes, hardly inconspicuous as I stand in the pouring rain with an umbrella overhead.
I don’t care though.
It doesn’t really matter if I’m seen. The whole world could notice me, even find out that I’m a Vampire, and I’d still get away with killing her.
That’s just the way the world works.
The humans naively believe that they rule the world but what they don’t know is that their politicians all work for us. We decide who lives and dies. We decide who deserves to be punished. We decide it all and give them the illusion of choice. They would be grateful if they knew, either that or scared out of their minds.
That might be more likely but they should be grateful.
Without us, they’d destroy the planet and destroy each other. They thank the bloody politicians for the empty prisons after all. What they don’t know is that crime of any kind is a capital offence.
We kill, devour and destroy anyone who breaks the law indiscriminately.
The humans don’t realise, of course. They have no idea until they break the law themselves by which point it is simply too late.
We’re the hidden elite, the people concealed behind the tinted windows of the expensive cars that the humans gawk at on the streets.
The list of the world’s richest people is over ninety percent Vampire. Occasionally, new money will rise up the ranks but it’s never long before they’re turned. It only takes mingling amongst the world’s elite once or twice to realise that nothing is as it seems and then there’s no choice.
There’s no going back.
You could say that there are two death sentences for the humans; crime and money. Both will get you killed, if becoming a Vampire can really be called death.
Then there are the unlucky ones, those that run into a Royal like me. The only vampires with the authority to feed as we wish, we are definitely the most dangerous for the humans.
Fortunately, we also tend to have better self-control than the younger ones. Although, we often choose not to use it.
Farah is one of those unlucky ones. I will bring her death; it’s only a matter of time.