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Available in paperback and as an ebook from Ellora's Cave. Excerpt from Moonlust Privateer Prologue "We were trapped between silver tipped spears and sunrise. If we didn't escape within moments. . .well, you can only imagine what would happen." Narcisse Debray's gaze swept from his wife to his sister as they sat by the fireplace in the great hall of Castle Debray. Both women stared at him, tension heavy on the air. "So tell us what happened!" Leona Debray edged her chair closer to her husband and clutched his wrist. "Finish the story, Narcisse!" Sabine flashed fangs in her brother's direction. "Obviously we know you and Captain Donovan didn't burn." "It was time for desperate measures," Narcisse continued, an amused smile on his lips. "Those islanders were ready to spear us through the heart, then Galen Donovan made the ultimate sacrifice." "What?" Both women shouted. "He seduced the tribal Queen and convinced her to let us go." Leona dropped her hand from Narcisse and raised her eyes to heaven. Sabine wondered if she looked as disgusted as her sister-in-law. "I'm sure it was a horrible sacrifice, bedding down the tribal Queen." "I'll take into consideration you two have never traveled to the islands. The Queen had Donovan up for the entire day performing worse than a carnival acrobat." Leona slapped Narcisse's arm, her face flushed as if she'd just taken blood. "Mind your tongue, My Lord!" "No, it's his friend who'd better mind his tongue." Sabine didn't try to keep the disgust from her voice. "Honestly, Narcisse, the tales you tell about this man are shameful and repulsive." "But interesting." Leona looked thoughtful. "I rather hope to one day meet Captain Donovan." "I wouldn't want him near you," Narcisse growled, grasping Leona's forearms and tugging her out of her chair and onto his lap. He nibbled her earlobe until she giggled. "I certainly have no desire to meet him." Sabine folded her arms across her chest and gazed into the fire. "He sounds like a filthy, arrogant jackass." "Filthy and arrogant, maybe," Narcisse reached for a goblet of wine and offered the first sip to Leona, "but never a jackass. Together we got through many difficult situations. Galen is not only an excellent military strategist, but fluent in over twelve languages." "If he's such a wondrous man, then why is he a pirate?" Sabine asked. "Probably because he has no scruples," Leona said. Sabine smiled. "Of that I'm certain. Honestly, Narcisse, I don't know how a man of your station could have befriended such a rogue." "When you're on the high seas, station doesn't matter." "It would if you let it." Sabine lifted her chin. "And all those women he bedded. They must have been desperate. Even the tribal Queen." Narcisse shrugged. "Most women find the Captain quite attractive." "For a boar." "As attractive as he might be, he must have had difficulty outshining you, my love." Leona slipped her arms around Narcisse's neck and kissed his swarthy cheek. Lord Debray brushed the tip of his nose against his wife's. "And no tribal Queen could ever possess your charms." Sabine gazed at the loving couple and sighed. She was very happy her brother and Leona had found one another, but at times she couldn't help feeling a bit jealous. Sabine had never had a lover - even a mortal one. She'd always been content riding, swimming, decorating Castle Debray, and designing dresses with her sister-in-law and servants. Though she knew most others of her age and her kind had long since exercised their lust over unsuspecting mortal men and women, Sabine took her nourishment from sleeping children, leaving them alive and well, with pleasant dreams. Killing offended her, and though many strong youths lived in the neighboring village, she hadn't found one with whom she'd like to share a bed as well as blood. Her mother had always told her such feelings would come in time. She was still very young for one of her kind, and there was a whole world of beautiful males for her to search. "Perhaps I'll see one of those tribal Queens in our travels." Leona's words caused Sabine to turn around in the middle of what she'd hoped to be a discreet exit. "Travels?" she asked. "Yes, Sabine, we wanted to talk to you about that," Narcisse said as he and Leona stood. "With our child due in several months, we hoped to travel before its arrival." "When will you be leaving?" Sabine wondered if her surprise shone on her face. "The day after tomorrow. We want you to join us," Narcisse said. Sabine laughed. "No. You were married only a few weeks ago and have yet to have a wedding trip. I will not go with you." "But we want you to come." Leona squeezed Sabine's hand. "We'll have so much fun." "Absolutely not." Sabine said. "You should be alone." "Sabine, it's been difficult for us all since the incident with Kornel. We don't want to leave you here, surrounded by memories of his death..." "Narcisse, Kornel tried to kill the three of us, and he almost succeeded. Yes, I miss the illusion of what I'd hoped our brother was, but I was wrong about him, and so were you. It's been no more difficult for me than it has been for you or Leona. In truth, I could use the time alone here to sort out my own life." "You're sure?" Leona narrowed her eyes. "Yes." Sabine smiled, embracing her sister-in-law. "I want both of you to go and have a wonderful time." Narcisse looked skeptical. "I don't like the idea of leaving you alone." "Narcisse, please." Sabine hugged him. "You're a wonderful brother. You've always taken care of me, but how many times have I told you I'm a woman now? I can take care of myself. And even if I couldn't, what could happen to me here on our own lands?" Narcisse's dark eyes held hers. He touched her cheek. "I can't help thinking of you as a child, but I know I have to be realistic. You're sure you'll be all right?" "I'm positive. I want you both to have a wonderful journey, and when you come back, everything will be in the same order you left it." Chapter One Two Days Later Sabine tilted her head, a blue-tipped brush dangling between her fingers, and stared at her canvas then to the jade vase filled with luscious pink roses she'd been painting. Firelight flickered beside her, warming her against the castle's chill. "What do you think, Meg?" Sabine asked the plump blond woman seated at the table, embroidering. Though a servant of the Debrays, Meg had grown up alongside Sabine. Meg was the only mortal Sabine knew who didn't fear her, and Sabine appreciated the closeness between them - closeness that many of her class would frown upon. The servant looked up, narrowing pale blue eyes at the painting. "Lovely, Miss. The colors look a bit brighter in your work than how the petals look to me, but I see through human eyes." "And beautiful eyes they are." Sabine's lips curved upward slightly. "If you'd like vampiric ones, however, I can try to arrange it." "Oh, no, Miss! Not now, at least. I'm still young enough to stay human for a while. Maybe when I feel time creeping up on me, I'll come to you for the favor." "You wouldn't want it from me, Meg." Sabine laughed. "When the time comes, we'll find you a handsome man with fangs like a young wolf and arms powerful enough to die in." "You make it sound almost tempting." "From the stories I've heard, it can be." Sabine looked far off as she thought about the bawdy tales she'd heard from her deceased brother, Kornel. Most of the time his stories had sickened and embarrassed her, but the times he'd detailed the passion between vampire and mortal, feelings other than embarrassment had caused her to heat. And, on the night Narcisse had made Leona immortal, Sabine had heard their cries of rapture before she'd banished herself for a walk through the vaults below the castle. It hadn't been right to listen to such intimacy. Sabine was considered quite young for a vampire, but old enough to finally desire a mate, either mortal or vampire. "Love would be wonderful with the right man, I suppose." Meg shrugged. "Like marriage." "Speaking of marriage, how are the plans for your wedding?" "Wonderful. Harold and I will marry in the spring. I'm so pleased you'll attend." "I wouldn't miss it." "You have to be there, Miss. If it hadn't been for you convincing Kornel not to slaughter me last year..." Meg took her lower lip between her teeth and cursed softly. "I'm sorry, My Lady. I shouldn't have mentioned it." Sabine shook her head and sighed. "It's all right, Meg. We must mention him sometimes. Kornel was my brother, but he was a wicked man. Narcisse and I have both accepted that." "The sun will be rising soon, Miss. Would you like me to ready your bedchamber?" "It's not necessary. Get some rest, Meg. I'm going to finish my painting before I retire." Meg nodded, collected her embroidery, and left for the servants' quarters. Though many of the servants of Castle Debray were human, they kept the same hours as their immortal masters. Other than a fat brown cat cleaning himself in a corner, Sabine was alone in the great hall. The heavy velvet drapes had been drawn earlier, but through the cracks, Sabine noted the glow of dawn. She sighed, wondering how it would feel to walk in daylight. She'd looked out at it, seen its almost painful brightness wash over the meadows, but her kind couldn't endure direct sunlight. Their flesh would blister and burn, and with prolonged exposure, would dissolve to the bone. It wasn't a desperate craving she felt, to feel daylight, but rather a perverse curiosity. As Sabine added a few last strokes to the painting, the sunlight bleeding through the curtain dimmed, followed by the sound of rain pelting the castle walls. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Sabine enjoyed the sound of the storm as she cleaned her supplies and packed them away. By the time she'd finished, the rain had stopped, and the songs of morning birds caused her to smile. Tapping sounded on the door, and Sabines brow furrowed. The guards knew better than to allow anyone through the gates at dawn, and if Narcisse and Leona had returned, they would have the key. The tapping echoed again, and Sabine approached the door. Her heartbeat quickened when she caught the strong scent of another vampire - an unfamiliar vampire... Copyright 2001 Kate Hill

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