Sunday, August 14, 2016

Release Day Blitz - Blood Dragons (Rebel Vampires, #1) by Rosemary A Johns

Blood Dragons
Rebel Vampires, #1
by Rosemary A. Johns
Date of Publication: 14th August 2016
Publisher: Fantasy Rebel Limited
Cover Artist: JD Smith
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
There are three people in this affair – and two of them aren’t human…

From The Book Junkie Reads . . . Blood Dragons (Rebel Vampires, #1) . . .
Dragons. . . need I say more. I love dragons. Vampires. . . I love them too. Could I possibly go wrong with reading about dragons and vampires? Well I guess it all depends on how you view it. Things are not always the way they are presented at first light. I was wanting and expecting one thing from the title. I got most of what I wanted and very little of what I was expecting.

Light, Ruby, and Kathy all have their own lives to live until fate or fortune brings them all to the crossing point of each other. As one woman made him, used him and then discarded him. The other woman captivated him and urged him to question life around him. Light has something that was forbidden to him in his hands. Then a secret falls upon him and creates doubts of his existence.  Through it all he has this love for two women both in a different way. Till one has nearly reached the end of life and he wants to give that gift of memories. Light recounts events that captures the lives around the three (Light, Ruby, and Kathy).

Most certainly an adult themed book and not for having voracious sexual or sensual encounters. Mainly because it spoke to you on a deeper level. It gives another viewpoint of vampires and the origin and existence. The characters were rich with depth. The lore alluring. The schemes entrancing. Minor romantic theme but now overwhelming. There are aspects of romance but not for a diehard lover of romance. This romance was on a different realm. I found the romance or love story to be tragic in events and lacking in all that it encompassed.

I believe this series has gotten off to a good start and may have many future followers. The richness of what was offered behind the lore, the affair, the secrets, the lies, and the hidden world leaves more to be explored and the need for another novel. The draw was the rich and captivating urban fantasy with a developed paranormal aspect intertwined. 
**This ARC was provided via Bewitching Book Tours in exchange for an honest review.**

BLURB
There are three people in this affair – and two of them aren’t human…

A hidden paranormal London lies beneath our own. Escape into the supernatural world of the Blood Lifers – where vampires are both predator and prey.

1960s London. Light is a rebel Rocker Blood Lifer with a photographic memory. And a Triton motorbike. Since Victorian times he’s hidden in the shadows. Both predator and prey. His venom is deadly. He feeds on blood. Human, of course. But when he discovers his ruthless family’s horrifying secret experiments, he questions whether he should be slaying or saving the humans he’s always feared.

Ruby is a sexy but savage Elizabethan Blood Lifer. She burns with a destructive love for Light. But he’s keeping something from her. Something that breaks every rule in Blood Life. When she discovers the truth, things take a terrifying turn.

Kathy is a seductive singer. But she’s also human. Light knows his passionate love for her is reckless but he’s enchanted. Yet such a romance is forbidden. When the two worlds collide, it could mean the end. For both species.

What dark revelations will Light reveal at the heart of the experiments? Will he be able to stop them in time? The consequences of failure are unimaginable. Unless Light plays the part of hero, he risks losing everything. Including the two women he loves.
         
A rebel, a red-haired devil and a Moon Girl battle to save the world – or tear it apart.
*EXCLUSIVE LIMITED-TIME OFFER*
Special launch price ONLY $0.99 for five days from 14th to 18th August

AUGUST 1968            LONDON

‘You the Advance lad?’
‘Well, yeah, I’m the Advance--’
‘So? What do you want?’ You raised your eyebrow with one impatient tap of your boot. You were cloaked in Chanel No 5. Your ebony curls were loose, tumbling around your mush. Your feline blue peepers, which were flicked with eyeliner, were coolly appraising me; their lashes were so thick they looked like they’d wing off around the room when they got bored. We Blood Lifers forget the paint you First Lifers hide your beauty behind, familiar instead with the naked skin, rather than the artifice. I found myself tracing the pretty patterns you’d masked yourself in. ‘Something up with my face?’
‘What?’ I dragged myself back from my daze by the scruff of the neck.
I tried to lean casually on the bar as I lit up, but my elbow sank into the puddle of beer; I pretended not to notice.
You were just standing there, staring at me.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Not when I’d imagined it. And not between a Blood Lifer and a…
See, you were only a First Lifer, newly signed to the twins’ label. In a century of discovery and revel, I’d never stooped to notice one of you. Except as a passing snack.
Yet now I had these pins and needles - weird little tremors - like I didn’t know what to do with a body I’d had more than enough years to be versed in. But it was happening. There was no denying that.
 Ruby had told me once that she’d kept this dim First Lifer as an experiment. More a pet than anything. She’d wanted to examine him, and I can imagine the kind of games she put that poor sod through. Eventually, however, Ruby had cocked up. She never elaborated because she wasn’t one to admit failure easily (at least not to me), but she did tell me that the First Lifer - idiot as he might’ve been - had worked out Ruby wasn’t quite human. Then that was that. Ruby had done him in because those are the rules: no evidence, no vampire hunters and no pitchforks. Vampire bollocks myth number...
But now here I was.
What was I bleeding doing?
All because I had this crater of emptiness, where Ruby should’ve been? And with some bitch, who looked like she thought I was as big a tosser, as I reckoned she was an evolutionary monkey?
Yeah, sorry, not really the hearts and cupid stuff, right?
‘My face? You’re gawpin’.’ You sighed, shifting your chainmail bag on your shoulder with an impatient jerk. ‘Is your gaffer..?’
‘I’m the boss.’ I straightened, drawing on my ciggie. When you laughed, the blood in my throat pounded.
‘When the real gaffer wants to talk--’
‘Your song, did you write it yourself? That’s rare. A female creator in this industry. The lyrics…there’s a line--’
‘You going to give me a right nice, shiny medal?’
We glared at each other. Did you know two animals only look at each other like that, when they’re going to fight? It triggered my flight and fight, and I don’t sodding run.
I knew I’d insulted you but not how. This first contact was making my mind blaze; it’d been too long since I’d had to straightjacket myself in First Life convention. The skin was too tight. I felt like was I going to burst, bewildered with desire.
I slunk closer, so I could taste the scent of your sweat - my Moon Girl - sniff out the flowing strands of Soul underneath the painted beauty. ‘I meant they’re different… You’re different to--’
‘You’re fair coming onto me?’ You stepped back, eyeing the exit.
‘No, what..?’
‘I’m not into the whole Rockers scene,’ you zigzagged your finger down, from my jacket to my scuffed motorcycle boots.
Confusion and humiliation, with something blazing at its core, which I wasn’t going to bloody well accept (not this Blood Lifer and not again), shuddered through me.
I hurled down my ciggie, grinding it into the patterned carpet. ‘That wasn’t… As if I’d… And you know what? You were off coming into the third verse.’
Silence.
Your peepers were hard now: definite hit nerve. Yeah, bloody genius I was. I’d just risen in the rankings from insignificant to loathed. You crossed your arms, and I mirrored you.
‘You ever tried not being a total prat?’
‘Once. Didn’t stick.’
You edged towards the door. ‘Fab as this hasn’t been, I must get on. My cousin’s walking me home.’ You tossed your nut at a bird with a thick fringe and Beatles do, who was perched at a spool table by the exit, glancing curiously over at us.
‘I wanna take your picture.’ The words had spilt out of my gob, before I’d even realised myself that I meant them.
I imagined my trusty camera snapping you from every angle, so I could possess your image to study without the accusation of gawpin. And then, before I could stop myself, the second image of tossing myself off over your smiling face, as Ruby shared blood with Aralt downstairs in his study.
See, I promised all the nasties and wankery, didn’t I?
You were still heading for your cousin. ‘Does it work with the other chicks? Pretending like you’re David Bailey?’ I darted after you through the hot jiving bodies, which stank of blood so strongly I gagged with the effort of keeping my fangs retracted. My own blood was up because this - what was happening between us? It was dead close to a hunt. I had to chain every instinct deep to stop myself from going for the kill. I grabbed hold of your arm. ‘That the best line you can come up with? Think I’m a little fool?’
You shook me off, and I let you; it was more exhilarating this way. I wove after you through the crowds, catching you before you could reach your cousin. I was panting now, not out of breath but from the effort of controlling the bloodlust. ‘It’s for publicity, all right?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Reckon I’d want to spend time with you?’
‘Happen you can give my agent a ring and set it up,’ you admitted defeat with a weary sigh. ‘I do take a good likeness.’
My quarry felled.
‘Tomorrow evening?’
You frowned. ‘Why evening?’
‘That’s when I work best, darlin’.’
*EXCLUSIVE LIMITED-TIME OFFER*
Special launch price ONLY $0.99 for five days from 14th to 18th August

CHARACTER PROFILES:

A hidden paranormal London lies beneath our own…

1960s London

Light is a rebel Rocker Blood Lifer with a photographic memory. And a Triton motorbike. He’s a Blood Lifer James Dean: rough leather motorcycle jacket, studded and faded, decorated with a worn gold Ace of Spades, collar firmly turned up, over a black t-shirt, jeans and tall motorcycle boots, topped by a light brown pompadour, tamed with Brylcreem. He tried to conforming once: didn’t fit.

When and where elected into Blood Life? Victorian London.

Human name? Thomas Blickle

Favourite music?  The Stones, Johnny Kidd and the Pirates, Marty Wilde, Eddie Cochrane, Chuck Berry, The Animals, Them and Billy Fury and THE FOUR JAYS…Light loves his rock ‘n’ roll.

Favourite motorbike? Triton. ‘A sodding scarlet slash of beauty. 650cc Triumph twin-cylinder engine in a Norton ‘slimline’ Featherbed frame - and my bloody god.

Favouite possession? His leather jacket. For the last 150 years, Light has always owned a ‘blinding coat’.

Favourite phrase? ‘Bollocks vampire myth…’

Who is Ruby? A sexy but savage Elizabethan Blood Lifer in crimson silk. She burns with a destructive love for Light. But he’s keeping something from her. Something that breaks every rule in Blood Life. When she discovers the truth, things take a terrifying turn. ‘Ruby. My red-haired devil, Author, muse, liberator, guide: my gorgeous nightmare.’

Who is Kathy? A seductive singer, with blue eyes and long black curls. But she’s also human. Light knows his passionate love for her is reckless but he’s enchanted. Yet such a romance is forbidden. When the two worlds collide, it could mean the end. For both species
‘You looked like some little Moon Girl, shimmering in silver: silver-spangled trousers, plastic biker jacket, with poppers and white ankle-length boots. I would’ve blasted into space with you in a bleeding heartbeat…
*EXCLUSIVE LIMITED-TIME OFFER*
Special launch price ONLY $0.99 for five days from 14th to 18th August
Author Info

ROSEMARY A JOHNS is a traditionally published author of short stories under the name R. A. Johns. Blood Dragons is Rosemary A Johns’ debut novel.

Rosemary A Johns wrote her first fantasy novel at the age of ten, when she discovered the weird worlds inside her head were more exciting than double swimming. Since then she’s studied history at Oxford University, run a theatre company (her critically acclaimed plays have been described as "uncomfortable, unsettling and uneasily true to life"), and worked with disability charities. When Rosemary’s not falling in love with the rebels fighting their way onto the page, she heads the Oxford writing group Dreaming Spires
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