Trafford Publishing: Vampire High Council

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Vampire High Council

by Sam Shafer and Dennis Logan Miller

300 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #01-0010; ISBN 1-55212-608-0; US$25.50, C$29.95, EUR21.00, £14.50

A mortal writer is introduced to Immortals and clans of vampires who live and work worldwide among humans

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about the book      about the authors      excerpt      catalogue info

About the Book

A writer, Kelly Weatherford, has been looking into the past of Chance Noble and following him around L.A. when Chance unexpectedly confronts Kelly in a parking garage. Chance tells Kelly he knows who she is and what she is doing, but he can't figure out why any writer would be interested in him or his past.
The meeting between Chance and Kelly is interrupted by a gun-wielding trio of punks with larceny on their mind, but a friend of Chance's, Miguel Sanchez, suddenly appears out of nowhere, and using just his bare hands, routs the punks and makes them fear for their lives.
Miguel's arrival in L.A. causes Chance to invite Kelly to come with him and Miguel to Napa Valley, where he promises Kelly all her questions will be answered and the mystery cleared up. Kelly reluctantly agrees to the trip but is stunned when, instead of driving to Napa Valley, they go the Van Nuys airport and board a Gulfstream V jet owned and piloted by Chance.
In Napa Valley, Kelly meets and becomes a friend with the Tiszan clan, a family that owns a huge mansion and runs a winery. Over a period of days Kelly learns the real story behind the vampire legends and finds out that Chance Noble is more than he appears to be. Kelly's eyes are further opened when she learns that the Tiszan clan is just one of the many pure-blood and half-blood vampire clans who live and work among mortal humans. And most importantly, Kelly witnesses a deadly sword duel that ill decide whether the vampire clans stay at peace or go to war.

About the Authors

Sam Shafer is a bachelor and a baby-boomer who has spent most of his life in the area around Kansas City, Missouri, but in his teens and 20s he spent ten years on the motorcycle circuit racing all over the Midwest. Since he gave up motorcycle racing, he has spent the last 28 years working as a master taxidermist, artifact trader, and dealer. He just recently turned to writing screenplays and novels and is currently working on the sequel to Vampire High Council.
Dennis Logan Miller is a twice-married, twice-divorced baby-boomer and U.S. Navy veteran who grew up in Kansas City, Missouri but spent most of his adult life living overseas and in other parts of the U.S. He has worked as a photographer, an electronics technician, a technical manager, an F.C.C. compliance technician, and in sales and marketing. He has been a writer for most of his life but Vampire High Council is his first published work. He is currently working with Sam Shafer on the sequel to Vampire High Council.
The authors would like to hear what you think of Vampire High Council and comments may be sent via e-mail to shaferwriter@aol.com.

Excerpt

    Without taking his eyes off Demetrius, Chance asked in an icy cold voice, "Do I have the High Council's permission to fight these men, to kill them if it is necessary?"
    After a minute of rapid-fire talk, the High Council agreed by a show of hands that Chance could fight the three men to the death.
    He bowed to the High Council then he turned and stared at Wolfric and Diego. "I've already accepted your challenges so why don't you go and use Illya's family chapel to tell your God that you're coming and prepare yourselves for the journey." He grinned, making some in the audience shudder. "I'm going to kill both of you so fast God won't even know you're dead, and two minutes after I've killed you two, Demetrius will be right behind you, meeting Lucifer himself in Hell."

*    *    *
    Wolfric and Diego were like statues, afraid to say anything or even look at each other, but Demetrius moved into the en garde position and stared at Chance over the point of his sword. His face was distorted by a sneer, but he looked confident and very sure of himself.
     Wolfric finally glanced at Demetrius, saw no help there, and turned to face Chance. He tried to be stoic and put on a brave front, but his voice broke when he said, "No ... No. I can't accept your offer ... I can't." He also moved into the en garde position, but his moves weren't as confident or as smooth as Demetrius' had been.
    A second later, Diego swallowed heavily and said, "I can't accept your offer." He brought his sword up into the en garde position and tried to stare at Chance over the point of his sword like Demetrius was doing, but he couldn't bring it off because his sword arm was trembling too much.
     "Then expect no quarter," Chance said and again bowed to the three of them. He brought up his sword into the en garde position, then he moved so quickly that no one watching realized that he'd moved until there was a loud clang as Demetrius parried his lunge. He and Demetrius exchanged a rapid series of six or seven lunges and parries before he stepped away from Demetrius in time to see Diego and Wolfric coming at him from either side of Demetrius.
     He surprised the men by moving forward to engage all three of them, and he and his sword were a blur as he spun and danced around them, one second parrying a move by Diego, the next lunging at Wolfric, then blocking a move by Demetrius. He lunged and parried, thrust and blocked their every move and seemed to be toying with them, exposing his neck or side, then blocking a thrust or dancing out of harm's way before a sword could come near his body.

*    *    *
    After watching only two minutes of this deadly ballet, most of the crowd realized they were seeing a superb master swordsman in action and witnessing a duel that would be talked about for centuries, although some in the crowd were wondering why Chance seemed to be toying with his opponents.

*    *    *
    Their rapid movement and feet shuffling started kicking up a large cloud of dust, and the longer they fought, the more the dust hid their identities, until all the crowd could see were four faint figures fighting in the dust.
    Abruptly, Chance stepped out of the obscuring dust and lowered his sword. He smiled at the crowd, then he yelled, "I'm trying not to hurt these old women. I don't believe there's one good set of balls among the three of them."
    Demetrius, Diego and Wolfric lowered their swords when they realized Chance was no longer fighting them, and as the dust settled to the ground everyone could see the three men were panting, trying to catch their breath, and wiping the sweat and the dust from their faces. Their peacock finery was shredded and bedraggled, covered with layers of dust and numerous splotches of blood.
    None of the men had come through the duel untouched. Demetrius had been slashed several times on both arms and twice across the chest. Diego had a large cut running from his forehead down to his chin, and his sword arm was covered with so much blood that it was hard to tell how many times the arm had been slashed. But Wolfric was in the worst shape of them all. His chest, his arms, his face, even his hands had received so many cuts that it was hard to discern any part of his body that hadn't been cut or slashed.
    The three men's dirty, bloodied appearance was in stark contrast to Chance's appearance. He looked like he was ready to receive guests at a party, the perfect picture of a man at ease with his surroundings, his linen shirt fresh-looking, his pants still creased, his hair sleek and pulled back in a ponytail. The only signs of the fighting he'd just gone through were the thin film of sweat that covered his forehead and his damp looking hair, but even those things only made him look like he'd just finished a mild workout session.

*    *    *
    They circled each other for over a minute, looking for an opening and trying to spot the other's weakness, but then they both went into the en garde position and moved forward at the same time, as if they'd both heard some silent signal.

*    *    *
    Up on the porch, Catherine watched the deadly dance and knew something was wrong. Chance might have come through the first part of the duel unmarked, but it had taken a lot out of him. He was on the defensive, and he had always told her to keep on the attack so you had the upper hand and controlled your opponent's moves and the pitch of the battle. But, to Catherine, it was obvious that Chance wasn't in control of anything in the duel. She leaned over and whispered to Kelly, "There's something wrong with Chance. I think he's getting tired."
    Before Kelly could response, she saw Demetrius force Chance to start backing up the middle set of stairs to the porch. She squeezed Catherine's hand and hoped her fear didn't show in her voice when she said, "Chance knows what he's doing. He's probably playing with Demetrius. I just know he'll win."

*    *    *
    Chance's sword cleaved through his body from behind, splitting him open from the crown of his head to his groin. His body split into two parts and fell to the porch with a wet thud, splattering blood for a good six feet around the body.

*    *    *
    Jean and Miguel staggered into Chance's bedroom with Chance seemingly comatose, hanging from their shoulders.

Catalogue Information