Lord Ragnar Kamazotz is a vampire and the first ever of his kind.
The beast in him only recognizes the tune of one lady…his Zeda. 
In his earliest years, she was the only person that could calm him down or get him close to sanity with the help of her instrument.

All that stopped when she was gruesomely murdered by the greedy members of the royal family. He slayed everyone involved but he was never himself again. 
He survived by relying on The Prophecy that promised her coming back.
Seven centuries later, he meets her again and his world is at peace until scenes from the ancient days rise up in this present one, threatening to kill her…again!

People called her his poison but he called her ‘his Antidote”.
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“I remember…I remember you now my love” Zelda said as more tears fell from her eyes as she looked at the man who had suffered through centuries seeking her return.
Kamaz was tongue tied…overwhelmed and his heart rate was faster than normal.
She remembers…

“I missed you so much Zeda” Kamaz said and Zeda lifted her hand to his face and he leaned into her small hand.
“I missed you badl..” Kamaz wanted to continue but the rest of his words were buried in Zeda’s mouth.
She had stood on her toes and slid her hands around his neck, dragging him to her level and placing her lips on his.
Kamaz was stunned but not for long…
He lifted her petite frame from her thighs and wrapped her around his waist for their heads to be at the same level and tears fell off their eyes as they kissed - pouring all of them into that soul uniting and heart joining kiss.
She moved herself impossibly closer to him, making him second guess his decision of taking things slowly with her.

“Quinzi toman,” Kamazotz groaned as their scents tangled.

The Vampire King's Only Antidote

Most bubbling female teenagers, every spinster, married and unmarried women and even the old women that could still pull themselves to move about, would stand outside large and small stalls in the market area, just to watch when the Crown Prince will pass through. 


Handsome, responsible, imperial and a goddamn Prince! 


Every mother wanted him for her daughter and every daughter wanted him for herself. 


Once upon a time, I had also been one of those ladies who used to swoon over Prince Acheron. And one of those days while he was passing with his almost unending entourage, someone had been seeking the right angle to catch a glimpse of him from behind and had pushed me forward mistakenly. 


I was lurched so hard that I rolled off the stairs and arrived at the feet of Prince Acheron’s horse and he was gracious enough to have stopped right in time, to stop me from getting crushed. 


MOLTEN LAVA