Claudia Knight has been writing ‘forever’ and the mystery and magic of the unknown has always lured her. Night Fury is her first novella in a series about very different creature of magic. You can follow her down that dark and twisty path…if you dare… Learn more about Claudia at her blog: http://creaturesofmagick.blogspot.com/

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	Callie always had a weakness for dark and dangerous men. It was no wonder she fell so fast and so hard for the one who walked into her café one stormy night. Nicholas had centuries to come to terms with the fact he could never have happiness. His chivalry had led him down a path that ended in his being born to darkness, and he had paid many times for his mistake. Yet Nicholas and Callie were both helpless in the face of the desire they felt. Would they be able to seize their moment before evil came back and stopped them both? Or would the glimpse of it destroy them both?
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EXCERPTS

Night Fury

Callie’s eyes widened when he strode in.     His gaze met hers. His eyes a black so bottomless she felt herself drowning in them. Black leather jacket, chin-length black hair, the dark stubble on his chin—all made him the epitome of a scrumptious, dangerous and potent male.     He sat at the counter. She poured the requested coffee, her eyes never leaving his.     All the while her mind was saying Oh my, oh my, oh my, oh myyyy . . . He was most delectable.     Her thoughts were interrupted as he spoke:                                                                                 * * *     “I met the woman at the bottom of a hill I had never climbed.     She was probably two score years or thereabouts and had obviously not had an easy life. There was sadness in her eyes, but hope, as well. I grabbed her hands as she stumbled in front of me and I felt the calluses hard work had wrought. She said nothing—only looked at me.     'Are you alright, madam?' I asked politely, wanting to be on my way yet not wanting to appear to rudely rush off.     'My children,' she said softly, 'I had to . . .' The words, once spoken, increased the sadness in her eyes. 'I will wait here.' She moved to sit on a boulder on the side of the road.     Mystified, I looked at her for a long moment.     In the silence I heard screams of terror carried faintly on the summer air . . . Screams and the hint of a scent of smoke.     I looked to her no longer, but broke into a trot up the hillside, toward the sounds. Halfway to the summit I stopped; a divergence led to the left and the well-used path continued onward. As I stood in silence, the screams came again, from the left.     Some say man’s foremost instinct is self-preservation. A strange feeling told me to run away as far and fast as possible. I ignored it and hurried on toward the sounds.”     He paused a moment, just looking into her eyes. A part of him already wondered if his instinct for self-preservation was again being ignored. There was something about the woman in front of him that had lowered all his defenses. Hence, here he was, spilling his story while all he wanted to do was lose himself in those stormy grey eyes.     He continued with an effort.     “My view was blocked by the curve of the cliff itself, for here the way led between two steeply sloped sides of the walls. As the way opened again, I saw a small hut set with its back almost against the hill, in a little vale too small to sustain more than a few sheep and some vegetables. It looked well-kept—except for the quantity of smoke belching from the chimney.     I hurried up, broke through the door without a thought and stopped in the doorway. Three beautiful maidens met my gaze in mute surprise. They were in no immediate danger from the fire, other than the fact that the room was rather hot. A large quantity of kindling had been piled into the fireplace and set afire. It would soon spread into the room.     No—the danger was that all three were tied to various pieces of furniture. The fact none of them looked as though they had been screaming in terror did not strike me then.     The one who looked to be the oldest was seated calmly in a chair, her hands bound to its arms and her feet to its legs. Her bold blue-eyed gaze entreated nothing—only assessed. The second was seated on the floor, next to an old iron stove. Her hands were tied to its base and her legs simply tied together. She tossed her raven tresses in disdain, even as she struggled with the knots.     The last was but a child. Her red-gold hair glimmered in the light of the flames as she lay tied to the bed. She was the only one who looked afraid.”     Callie was still motionless, but her thoughts were spinning. The sound of his voice combined with the scent of him made her pulse race. Yet there was something else, too. The story he wove was compelling enough but she felt as though she could actually see the three females. If she closed her eyes she knew she would smell the smoke heavy in the air and hear the echoes of screams. Was it just her imagination? Or was it something else? His voice pulled her back to the present as he continued:     “What monstrosity is this?” I shouted, moving into the room and drawing my sword.     I advanced to the child first for I (rightly as it turned out) believed the eldest would be something to be reckoned with. Swiftly, I untied them. The first fled, grabbing a tattered doll on the way out. The second muttered barely audible thanks and rushed after the youngest.     The last . . . smiled at me.     Those blue eyes seemed to drink in my soul as she leaned toward me; I still knelt with the last of the rope in my hands. I remember her golden hair tumbling into my face, the scent of lilacs and ocean spray.     'I have waited for you,' she murmured. Then her teeth were against my neck and the world faded. When I came to my senses I was no longer human. I was reborn a predator, an immortal, a vampire.”                                                                         Back to Night Fury