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Dusk’s Warriors by Emerian Rich

22835257_10154844436022601_1720627097_nJulien is a tortured soul. His whole life he’s been infected by his father, the devil. Beings from another world planned a destiny he doesn’t want to fulfill. All he wants is his vampire life back. Will he ever find peace?


Excerpt from Dusk’s Warriors:

Scribbling in the flickering candlelight, the woman tried to capture what happened minutes before. A breath, and then on with the story she’d never show to another living soul. Perhaps the greatest work ever, but no one would ever know, for she was not alone in her small abode.

A stranger lurked only steps away, savoring the moment he may never have again.

“To kill once more,” Julien said to himself. “To drink the blood even as it draws cold. To feel her fear and see a life pass through her eyes which I have only observed.”

An eternity, it seemed as he crossed the room and placed his cool, marble lips to her warm, tender neck.

Alas, the blood was not warm. It was ice cold.


Julien woke to find he’d been dreaming, a bittersweet nightmare of a dream with him as the victim, not she. If only Julien could go on, accept his new life, live it as his immortal comrades.

He wanted his passion back. Nothing brought him pleasure anymore. He didn’t need food or drink to live, and even the luscious taste of wine made from Heaven’s own vineyard had lost its potency.

He drifted back into his restless sleep, filled with memories only posing as dreams.


A fresh young mortal in his arms, smelling of leather and alcohol. Beauty in its finest form. Her blood had been rich, filled with a power no mortal had, infused with knowledge and enlightenment. She had control over him in those moments before, beckoning him to give her pleasure in that intimate way. Why had he touched her so? Running his hand over her soft breasts, down across her shapely thighs to the mound of ecstasy had seemed a necessity. How warm she was inside. He believed if he submerged his skin into her warm moisture, his immortal coldness would fade. It did, for a time, as she rose to his touch and her blood ran into his mouth like a fountain of youth.

Blood. More of a feeling than a taste. Pure pleasure.


Opening his eyes, Julien found himself in the everlasting garden so green it almost hurt his eyes, but hurting was not known in Heaven. Even the bright sunlight had a soft glow to it. Not hurting perhaps, but longing.

Julien knew nothing but longing. He did not want to be the God of Dawn. Although he’d accepted the position, he longed to be a vampire once more. He wanted to be feared, mysterious, allowed the evil deeds he’d pretended to hate in his vampiric life, but which over the years, he’d come to savor.

He rose from the healthy, damp grass, his limbs numb and head throbbing. True, there was no pain in Heaven, but his sorrow surpassed physical aches. He stretched his arms far up into the sky. The sight of his pale, marble-like limbs sent a spark of anger through him. They had made him their…creature. Their god. His mother—if she truly was his mother—had planned it. The olden gods had helped. Damn them! And damn his father—the devil himself—for causing it.

Never did Julien’s life seem so meaningless. He was supposed to be happy, to feel purpose. He was Lord Dawn, the god of the time between Night and Day when the first appearance of daylight breaks the morning, waking birds and farmers and…

Never again. I will never feel as I did, again.

Julien walked around The Garden, and then broke into a sprint. The Garden went by in a blur as his speed grew. His long white hair flew out behind him. He wanted to be away from the beautiful world. He wanted to be alone. In the too pretty place, with no pain, he felt as if he were being judged, as if the olden gods, or the gods above, or even Jespa waited to see him fail.

Damn Jespa! Damn her world! Damn every force that be! Julien’s rage built as he rounded The Garden. Away! I want to be away! He ran faster and faster, thinking of all that had passed. All he’d lost. Finally, he jumped into the nothingness of his own sector, creating a path to run on. Just a path. No towers or gates or gold cherubs or red sky, just a road…to nowhere.


Dusk’s Warriors by Emerian Rich


Heaven has opened up and welcomed the vampires of Night’s Knights into a new reality. As they struggle to find their place in their new world, trouble brews on Earth.


Demon servant, Ridge, is causing havoc by gathering up all the souls on Earth that have been touched by immortality. When he injures one of the Night’s Knights crew, he launches a war between the vampires of Heaven, the Big Bad in Hell, and a mortal street gang of vigilante misfits.


Will Julien, Markham, and Reidar be able to defeat the evil that’s returned, or will they once again need Jespa’s help?


Praise for Dusk’s Warriors:

“All hail, the queen of Night’s Knights has returned! Emerian Rich’s unique take on vampires delights my black little heart.” ~Dan Shuarette, Lilith’s Love


“A world of horror with realistic characters in a fast paced thriller you won’t be able to put down.”

~David Watson, The All Night Library


Praise for Night’s Knights:

“Fresh, original, and thoroughly entertaining.” ~Mark Eller, Traitor


“Emerian brought the Vampire Novel back from the dead.” ~C. E. Dorsett, Shine Like Thunder


Available now at in print and eBook

22895026_10154844435977601_1337514846_nEmerian Rich is an artist, horror host, and author of the vampire series, Night’s Knights. She is the hostess of the internationally acclaimed podcast, Under the name Emmy Z. Madrigal, she writes the musical romance series, Sweet Dreams and she’s the Editorial Director for the Bay Area magazine, SEARCH. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and son.




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