Deadly Beautiful. by Vivian Vargas (good novels to read TXT) đź“•
Excerpt from the book:
Morgan Blackwood and Whitney Stellar are two girls from completely different worlds, even time settings, but will fate eventually bring them together and rock everything they might have known in a world that is nestled into the dark hands of the Night Clan?
Morgan Blackwood is a young girl from Stoke, England. Growing up in a fairly middle class household, she suffered most of her life in the hands of stomach cancer. Morgan is determined to have her strange red-eyed friend, Liam Gogh, to change her into a vampire before the cancer takes her life. Her decision to become a member of the Night Clan can have dire consenquences, but she is willing to leave her life behind for the only chance she has to survive. Will her religious family get in the way of pursuing her destiny, or will Liam Gogh be unwilling to taint her soul and turn her into a 'monster'?
Whitney Stellar, the complete opposite of Morgan, was born into a life of abuse and neglect. After running away from her problem, she involves herself with the wrong people, battling drug addictions and a rather unhealthy prostituition lifestyle. After endless therapy and rehabilitation, she will have to take a different course of action to clean herself up, even if that means she has to face the one thing she, as a human, was taught to fear: vampires.
(this book and several suggestive scenes and bad lanugage)
Morgan Blackwood is a young girl from Stoke, England. Growing up in a fairly middle class household, she suffered most of her life in the hands of stomach cancer. Morgan is determined to have her strange red-eyed friend, Liam Gogh, to change her into a vampire before the cancer takes her life. Her decision to become a member of the Night Clan can have dire consenquences, but she is willing to leave her life behind for the only chance she has to survive. Will her religious family get in the way of pursuing her destiny, or will Liam Gogh be unwilling to taint her soul and turn her into a 'monster'?
Whitney Stellar, the complete opposite of Morgan, was born into a life of abuse and neglect. After running away from her problem, she involves herself with the wrong people, battling drug addictions and a rather unhealthy prostituition lifestyle. After endless therapy and rehabilitation, she will have to take a different course of action to clean herself up, even if that means she has to face the one thing she, as a human, was taught to fear: vampires.
(this book and several suggestive scenes and bad lanugage)
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what he was doing right at the moment. I went right upstairs, packed some stuff, and then went rifling through my mother’s things for some money. It didn’t bother me, stealing from my mother. I had no mother.
I used the four hundred pounds and a full can of pence’s I found inside my mothers underwear drawer and took a bus to Basingstoke. There I rented a begrimed room and for a few days wondered what I could do to get my life back in order.
I took a maid job at that hotel for the time being. But that was all I had.
*************
Morgan
There was nothing much that I can do to look better. The cancer has made my beauty a ghost of myself. My once bright gray eyes are dull with sickness. My pallor is insipid, my eyes sunken. My lips were chapped and dreary, a horrible purplish color. How have I survived this cancer for that long? How was it possible? Most people that I know have cancer never last more than three years! The doctors told me that it was a medical miracle that I am still alive.
There was nothing I could do to look good now next to Liam Gogh, the vampire that I persuaded to change me. But I looked at my calendar: May 13, 1918. I only had three more days until the night of my birthday. The thought made my heart beat uncontrollably. Was my heart beating like this because it was determined to gallop until the last beat? I must not worry. Soon, I would be an elegant creature. My beauty will be mine again. I would match Liam Gogh, finally.
Liam Gogh and I have a very unusual relationship. Besides Sue, I had to admit he was my best friend. Though the man could be highly supercilious and frustrating, there were times that he did things that made me adore him. Despite the fact he had too much pride to admit it, I knew that he felt the same way about me. I value him the same way, maybe a little more so. He would arrive sometimes at our meeting places with a beautiful bouquet of flowers or a slice of my favorite cherry cheesecake. He sometimes brought me amazing little trinkets from the world outside of my own, such as a forehead gem from India, a gondola necklace from Venice, and once even a battered, worn out Torah from Israel –an object so old and so full of grand mystery that I enclosed it forever in a wooden box under my bed. He also brought me things from his world; ornaments and artifacts of the Night Clan –like powdered werewolf teeth, a picture of Liam and his Shape Shifter double, or a Druid’s ring of magic. He often says I am nothing but a sharp thorn up his arse but I know he values me as a good friend –if not, how can a creature such as Liam spend so much of his time with me? Why would he shower me with gifts and more to keep me happy, using that as a reason to always see me?
I put on a nice red dress that was clingy, yet flowing. It flattered my figure. And I knew that Liam loved the color red. He often said it looked nice with my chocolate brown locks and my milky white skin. I thought I was ugly, but he frequently told me I was not. It was the sickness that made me unsightly, but he swore he still sees the loveliness in me. I picked my hair up with a tassel and let my brown curls fall around the framing of my bony face. I could not wait until I was what I always deserved to be. I could not wait to turn into a vampire.
****
It was certainly not easy sneaking out after Sue told me not to go. So I had to go out at night. I have seen Liam out in the sunlight before and I could tell he is always very uncomfortable. And more so, he looks completely horrible, more of a dead thing than he’s supposed to look. His eyes turn completely white, his tall, straight frame slumps like an old man –and it is as though the sun sucks out the very flesh from his bones, literally. In short, sunlight makes Liam weaker, and Liam is that type of creature that wants his defense up no matter the cost. I never knew why, but all he mentioned was that a vampire has many enemies.
I wasn’t particularly looking forward to that. But with everything that has numerous quirks, there are also consequences.
I opened the door of my room cautiously, looking right to left. There was no sound but the house settling and the slightest sound of the wind gently moaning. I tiptoed downstairs, and as soon as I managed to escape through the front door, I practically ran to the stables with the skirt of my dress hiked up by both hands.
Fannie, my banana white mare, whinnied when I approached her. I gave her a small piece of apple and she quieted down.
“I hope you’ve had a nice restful day, Fannie darling. Because we are going out tonight.” I whispered to her, kissing her muzzle. She snorted and nibbled at a lock of my hair.
***
I mounted Fannie and we rode off with a light jog. Thankfully, Fannie did not make much noise. I led her straight into the forest, taking her from a jog to a walk as we hit the dirt road. It was a little cold and the wind lifted my dress from my calves to my knees, baring some of my legs and chilling me to the bone.
Fannie was uneasy today. The moon was full tonight, so I had to be careful. In the full moon the werewolves were out. There were no werewolves as of late in Stoke, but they did travel. They don’t really attack humans, but if they see Fannie they just might attack me. Werewolves are not like vampires because have to actually eat whole organs in order to survive. No creature form the Night Clan can kill humans, so werewolves have to settle for animal organs. Vampires on the other hand don’t need to kill to feed. I know that in experience, because Liam has bitten me several times in my life. He never took too much of my blood because I was sick, but I always let him when he asked, mainly because it felt good. When I mention good, I mean in a way that would make any decent young lady blush. My heart races, I sweat a little. I can never help but to moan in absolute pleasure.
While Fannies hooves clapped titter totter on the fern, crunching hard dirt and leaves, I blushed. I have always loved the feeling of Liam’s cold lips on my neck. I will have no more mundane human needs. I will no longer need to eat food, to drink anything other than blood, I will not need to rest or sleep. I will no longer even need to breathe. I will even have the body temperature of a dead body, and I don’t care at all. Honestly, I would love being immortal, because more than anything else I want, I want life.
I will no longer be able to please Liam with my blood. The thought made me a little sad. But I have convinced him to save my life. That should mean that he cares for me a little more than he says he does. I know that Liam can care for a person. Since meeting Liam Gogh, I have never believed the man to be evil.
****
Liam and I met when I was about nine years old. I was not yet sick with cancer, but my asthma was at full blast at the time. I was barely able to go outside because I was always confined to my bed, sick, not being able to move or even breathe. The day I met Liam I was actually feeling excellent. I had decided to go and pick blackberries for my mother in the woods. And so I gathered my wicker basket and set off.
I found the blackberry bush. I was having a better time eating them than actually picking them. I bent down to grab the lower parts of the blackberry bush so I can fill at least half of the basket, and then I went into an elliptic shock. My lungs squeezed in my chest, rendering completely unable to breathe. I fell on the forest ground, convulsing in pain and suffocation. All I could do was gasp for the air that refused to register to my contracting lungs. I tried to call for help, but the effort made my chest burn horribly.
I had a sickening feeling then that I was going to die. I mustered what I could and screamed. I did not say anything intelligible in that scream. It was just an exert of sound ripping from my throat, and it exhausted the last bit of air left in my lungs. It felt like the last thing that I was ever going to do, with my heart beating faster than a running gazelle, and little black spots popping up in my vision. I was getting weaker and weaker. Tears squeezed from my eyes.
Through the little vision I had left pertaining in my eyes, I was suddenly looking face to face at a shocking pair of red eyes in a pale face, framed by a dark mass of hair. This thing’s eyes were so amazingly vivid that to a little girl I could not help but find them horrifying, monstrous. They were the last thing I remembered before all I saw was black. But the pain in my chest was gone, and that was good.
When I woke up, God knows how long later, I was back in my bed. At first I thought that it was all some horrific dream, until I realized my mouth was wrapped shut and I could not breathe through the reeking cloth. The cloth tasted like Sue’s potion. I was breathing through a straw, inserted inside a slit made in my throat.
When I told my mother a man with red eyes saved my life, she was appalled.
After I was able to breathe normally again, I sneaked out of the house at night, like I am doing now. I went to the forest, gingerly walking the path, afraid. At night, the woods seemed so scary. The trees looked ridiculously large, with their black leaves swaying in a disturbing manner that made me want to run back from the woods and to my bed. I was trembling.
“You should be in bed little girl.” Said a voice. It was chillingly calm, and the low, deep, cunning pitch made me squeak.
He was in the shadows of a large oak tree. Only the frame of his long, strongly-built body and his red eyes were visible. To a little girl like me then, he was massive. Frightening. But I could not turn my eyes away from him. He entranced me like an Indian cobra charmer. I have once heard that the cobra was more afraid of the man than the man afraid of it, I don’t believe this was the case. He stepped out of the shadows in a blur of speed, and suddenly he was by my side. I was much too shocked to speak or move.
I was suddenly serene and composed when he took hold of my hand. His hand was icy and smooth, much like my mother’s cold glass statues she keeps aligned on the fireplace mantelpiece. His hand was
I used the four hundred pounds and a full can of pence’s I found inside my mothers underwear drawer and took a bus to Basingstoke. There I rented a begrimed room and for a few days wondered what I could do to get my life back in order.
I took a maid job at that hotel for the time being. But that was all I had.
*************
Morgan
There was nothing much that I can do to look better. The cancer has made my beauty a ghost of myself. My once bright gray eyes are dull with sickness. My pallor is insipid, my eyes sunken. My lips were chapped and dreary, a horrible purplish color. How have I survived this cancer for that long? How was it possible? Most people that I know have cancer never last more than three years! The doctors told me that it was a medical miracle that I am still alive.
There was nothing I could do to look good now next to Liam Gogh, the vampire that I persuaded to change me. But I looked at my calendar: May 13, 1918. I only had three more days until the night of my birthday. The thought made my heart beat uncontrollably. Was my heart beating like this because it was determined to gallop until the last beat? I must not worry. Soon, I would be an elegant creature. My beauty will be mine again. I would match Liam Gogh, finally.
Liam Gogh and I have a very unusual relationship. Besides Sue, I had to admit he was my best friend. Though the man could be highly supercilious and frustrating, there were times that he did things that made me adore him. Despite the fact he had too much pride to admit it, I knew that he felt the same way about me. I value him the same way, maybe a little more so. He would arrive sometimes at our meeting places with a beautiful bouquet of flowers or a slice of my favorite cherry cheesecake. He sometimes brought me amazing little trinkets from the world outside of my own, such as a forehead gem from India, a gondola necklace from Venice, and once even a battered, worn out Torah from Israel –an object so old and so full of grand mystery that I enclosed it forever in a wooden box under my bed. He also brought me things from his world; ornaments and artifacts of the Night Clan –like powdered werewolf teeth, a picture of Liam and his Shape Shifter double, or a Druid’s ring of magic. He often says I am nothing but a sharp thorn up his arse but I know he values me as a good friend –if not, how can a creature such as Liam spend so much of his time with me? Why would he shower me with gifts and more to keep me happy, using that as a reason to always see me?
I put on a nice red dress that was clingy, yet flowing. It flattered my figure. And I knew that Liam loved the color red. He often said it looked nice with my chocolate brown locks and my milky white skin. I thought I was ugly, but he frequently told me I was not. It was the sickness that made me unsightly, but he swore he still sees the loveliness in me. I picked my hair up with a tassel and let my brown curls fall around the framing of my bony face. I could not wait until I was what I always deserved to be. I could not wait to turn into a vampire.
****
It was certainly not easy sneaking out after Sue told me not to go. So I had to go out at night. I have seen Liam out in the sunlight before and I could tell he is always very uncomfortable. And more so, he looks completely horrible, more of a dead thing than he’s supposed to look. His eyes turn completely white, his tall, straight frame slumps like an old man –and it is as though the sun sucks out the very flesh from his bones, literally. In short, sunlight makes Liam weaker, and Liam is that type of creature that wants his defense up no matter the cost. I never knew why, but all he mentioned was that a vampire has many enemies.
I wasn’t particularly looking forward to that. But with everything that has numerous quirks, there are also consequences.
I opened the door of my room cautiously, looking right to left. There was no sound but the house settling and the slightest sound of the wind gently moaning. I tiptoed downstairs, and as soon as I managed to escape through the front door, I practically ran to the stables with the skirt of my dress hiked up by both hands.
Fannie, my banana white mare, whinnied when I approached her. I gave her a small piece of apple and she quieted down.
“I hope you’ve had a nice restful day, Fannie darling. Because we are going out tonight.” I whispered to her, kissing her muzzle. She snorted and nibbled at a lock of my hair.
***
I mounted Fannie and we rode off with a light jog. Thankfully, Fannie did not make much noise. I led her straight into the forest, taking her from a jog to a walk as we hit the dirt road. It was a little cold and the wind lifted my dress from my calves to my knees, baring some of my legs and chilling me to the bone.
Fannie was uneasy today. The moon was full tonight, so I had to be careful. In the full moon the werewolves were out. There were no werewolves as of late in Stoke, but they did travel. They don’t really attack humans, but if they see Fannie they just might attack me. Werewolves are not like vampires because have to actually eat whole organs in order to survive. No creature form the Night Clan can kill humans, so werewolves have to settle for animal organs. Vampires on the other hand don’t need to kill to feed. I know that in experience, because Liam has bitten me several times in my life. He never took too much of my blood because I was sick, but I always let him when he asked, mainly because it felt good. When I mention good, I mean in a way that would make any decent young lady blush. My heart races, I sweat a little. I can never help but to moan in absolute pleasure.
While Fannies hooves clapped titter totter on the fern, crunching hard dirt and leaves, I blushed. I have always loved the feeling of Liam’s cold lips on my neck. I will have no more mundane human needs. I will no longer need to eat food, to drink anything other than blood, I will not need to rest or sleep. I will no longer even need to breathe. I will even have the body temperature of a dead body, and I don’t care at all. Honestly, I would love being immortal, because more than anything else I want, I want life.
I will no longer be able to please Liam with my blood. The thought made me a little sad. But I have convinced him to save my life. That should mean that he cares for me a little more than he says he does. I know that Liam can care for a person. Since meeting Liam Gogh, I have never believed the man to be evil.
****
Liam and I met when I was about nine years old. I was not yet sick with cancer, but my asthma was at full blast at the time. I was barely able to go outside because I was always confined to my bed, sick, not being able to move or even breathe. The day I met Liam I was actually feeling excellent. I had decided to go and pick blackberries for my mother in the woods. And so I gathered my wicker basket and set off.
I found the blackberry bush. I was having a better time eating them than actually picking them. I bent down to grab the lower parts of the blackberry bush so I can fill at least half of the basket, and then I went into an elliptic shock. My lungs squeezed in my chest, rendering completely unable to breathe. I fell on the forest ground, convulsing in pain and suffocation. All I could do was gasp for the air that refused to register to my contracting lungs. I tried to call for help, but the effort made my chest burn horribly.
I had a sickening feeling then that I was going to die. I mustered what I could and screamed. I did not say anything intelligible in that scream. It was just an exert of sound ripping from my throat, and it exhausted the last bit of air left in my lungs. It felt like the last thing that I was ever going to do, with my heart beating faster than a running gazelle, and little black spots popping up in my vision. I was getting weaker and weaker. Tears squeezed from my eyes.
Through the little vision I had left pertaining in my eyes, I was suddenly looking face to face at a shocking pair of red eyes in a pale face, framed by a dark mass of hair. This thing’s eyes were so amazingly vivid that to a little girl I could not help but find them horrifying, monstrous. They were the last thing I remembered before all I saw was black. But the pain in my chest was gone, and that was good.
When I woke up, God knows how long later, I was back in my bed. At first I thought that it was all some horrific dream, until I realized my mouth was wrapped shut and I could not breathe through the reeking cloth. The cloth tasted like Sue’s potion. I was breathing through a straw, inserted inside a slit made in my throat.
When I told my mother a man with red eyes saved my life, she was appalled.
After I was able to breathe normally again, I sneaked out of the house at night, like I am doing now. I went to the forest, gingerly walking the path, afraid. At night, the woods seemed so scary. The trees looked ridiculously large, with their black leaves swaying in a disturbing manner that made me want to run back from the woods and to my bed. I was trembling.
“You should be in bed little girl.” Said a voice. It was chillingly calm, and the low, deep, cunning pitch made me squeak.
He was in the shadows of a large oak tree. Only the frame of his long, strongly-built body and his red eyes were visible. To a little girl like me then, he was massive. Frightening. But I could not turn my eyes away from him. He entranced me like an Indian cobra charmer. I have once heard that the cobra was more afraid of the man than the man afraid of it, I don’t believe this was the case. He stepped out of the shadows in a blur of speed, and suddenly he was by my side. I was much too shocked to speak or move.
I was suddenly serene and composed when he took hold of my hand. His hand was icy and smooth, much like my mother’s cold glass statues she keeps aligned on the fireplace mantelpiece. His hand was
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