Never Ceese
Thirsting For Blood Book 1
by Sue Dent
Genre: Horror Fantasy
Publisher: S D Enterprises
Publication Date: July 25, 2018
What happens when a determined werewolf and a skeptical vampire join forces at the request of an aging friend?
Will they succeed in finding a way to rid themselves of their respective curses in spite of their natural hatred for each other or will they suffer at the hands of a radical and evil stem cell researcher who wants the fame and immortality he believes their blood will give him?
Forever Richard
Thirsting For Blood Book 2
Publication Date: July 28, 2018
A new vampire inhabiting Richard's castle, a stranger with the alleged knife of the Akedah, a malevolent werewolf stalking Ceese, and the impossible-to-kill Dr. Henderson.
Now mortal once again, Richard and Ceese thought their troubles were behind them. What will they do when they learn that isn't true? And how will they survive the new evil that threatens to destroy them all?
Cyn No More
Thirsting For Blood Book 3
Publication Date: September 4, 2019
A vampire dead set on reclaiming what it lost. A father determined to save his son from the evil that stalks him and an ancient good. Can Richard be saved from Cyn? Vampires, Werewolves and the Daoine Maithe.
**Coming Soon!!**
Penny For Your Thoughts
Thirsting For Blood Book 4
The saga continues. Cassie's boyfriend Darrell arrives with proof that her mother is still alive in spite of what Grandmother Penny told her.
Rodney struggles with emotions he can't believe he's having for Ceese and an old flame pushes the boundaries of Penny and Richard's new-found relationship. Will Professor Henderson finally succeed in changing Ceese back into a werewolf for his own diabolical purposes?
Electric Angel:
The long day’s drive bearing down on her, she began to reconsider.
Nothing about this makes sense. No one just picks up and leaves
everything behind. I don’t even know where I’m headed.
Panic took root. Confused tears blurred her vision. She wiped at them
with the back of an uncertain hand, then gave her head a determined
shake.
“No! You can do this. You have to do this.” She placed a maternal hand
on the small bulge of her stomach. “They deserve a chance. Both of
them.”
Never Ceese:
Richard couldn't hear her thoughts, but suspected what she was
struggling with. He took a step toward her and spoke to her back. "It's
no wonder we are what we are."
She whirled around to face him. "It's no wonder you are what you are! No
wonder you would count yourself a casualty of your curse. Well, I'm not
a casualty. Perhaps I can't presently feel love as I used to. But I can
still feel."
Forever Richard:
Weekly revival services at the Inner City Mission Church started
promptly at eight o’clock. Sister Betty Marshall liked to be on time. In
fact, she liked to be early. Stuffed inside her floral print
going-to-church dress, Sister Betty bustled along the sidewalk. Worn
leather sandals, stretched beyond their original shape, accommodated
wide brown feet and slapped the concrete as she went.
Sister Betty clutched her Bible close. She had to make it to the revival
center before Luella Thompson. Theirs was a
friendly competition but a competition nonetheless. When she didn’t make
it before Luella, Luella never let her forget it.
The walk light turned amber and then red just as she reached the busy
intersection. Sister Betty slowed down, resigned to her fate. She
wouldn’t make it on time. Luella would get bragging rights for this
evening. “Unless—” She strained her eyes to see. Was that a homeless man
in the alley? “Yes, Lord!” She headed over. Sister Luella might beat her
to services but what were the odds that she’d bring along a potential
convert?
When Henderson first noticed the lone Sister Betty, his fangs pushed
down and out. He’d intended to wait until she got closer, and then pull
her into the alley. He wasn’t prepared for her to approach him.
Her Bible captured his attention first. He drew back, hissing. The cross
around her neck added to his torture. His ears burned from the sacred
words she now quoted. Searing pain shot through eye sockets each time he
looked at the cross on her necklace. He threw his hands over his ears,
closed his eyes against the pain, and ran.
Cyn No More:
He squinted through the smothering fog that pressed against the
windshield like a tightly wrapped blanket. He gripped the steering wheel
with both hands. Another pothole like that one could cost him an axle,
and he had no desire to be stranded on this God-forsaken stretch of road
where dead and bloodless livestock turned up in pastures where they
grazed. At least that’s what a recent copy of the Sunday Sports
reported, a tabloid he regularly read.
“Vampires killed ‘em and drank their blood,” the paper quoted one
victimized goat-herder as saying, and though the words read like
crazy-talk, each dead animal did have a set of identical puncture wounds
on the neck. “They live in that castle.” A photograph accompanied the
article. “I’ve seen ‘em. Nothing like this happened before they moved
in.” The goat herder’s words stuck with the courier like a festering
splinter in his mind. It didn’t help that his route would take him to
the very castle mentioned in the article.
The long day’s drive bearing down on her, she began to reconsider.
Nothing about this makes sense. No one just picks up and leaves
everything behind. I don’t even know where I’m headed.
Panic took root. Confused tears blurred her vision. She wiped at them
with the back of an uncertain hand, then gave her head a determined
shake.
“No! You can do this. You have to do this.” She placed a maternal hand
on the small bulge of her stomach. “They deserve a chance. Both of
them.”
Never Ceese:
Richard couldn't hear her thoughts, but suspected what she was
struggling with. He took a step toward her and spoke to her back. "It's
no wonder we are what we are."
She whirled around to face him. "It's no wonder you are what you are! No
wonder you would count yourself a casualty of your curse. Well, I'm not
a casualty. Perhaps I can't presently feel love as I used to. But I can
still feel."
Forever Richard:
Weekly revival services at the Inner City Mission Church started
promptly at eight o’clock. Sister Betty Marshall liked to be on time. In
fact, she liked to be early. Stuffed inside her floral print
going-to-church dress, Sister Betty bustled along the sidewalk. Worn
leather sandals, stretched beyond their original shape, accommodated
wide brown feet and slapped the concrete as she went.
Sister Betty clutched her Bible close. She had to make it to the revival
center before Luella Thompson. Theirs was a
friendly competition but a competition nonetheless. When she didn’t make
it before Luella, Luella never let her forget it.
The walk light turned amber and then red just as she reached the busy
intersection. Sister Betty slowed down, resigned to her fate. She
wouldn’t make it on time. Luella would get bragging rights for this
evening. “Unless—” She strained her eyes to see. Was that a homeless man
in the alley? “Yes, Lord!” She headed over. Sister Luella might beat her
to services but what were the odds that she’d bring along a potential
convert?
When Henderson first noticed the lone Sister Betty, his fangs pushed
down and out. He’d intended to wait until she got closer, and then pull
her into the alley. He wasn’t prepared for her to approach him.
Her Bible captured his attention first. He drew back, hissing. The cross
around her neck added to his torture. His ears burned from the sacred
words she now quoted. Searing pain shot through eye sockets each time he
looked at the cross on her necklace. He threw his hands over his ears,
closed his eyes against the pain, and ran.
Cyn No More:
He squinted through the smothering fog that pressed against the
windshield like a tightly wrapped blanket. He gripped the steering wheel
with both hands. Another pothole like that one could cost him an axle,
and he had no desire to be stranded on this God-forsaken stretch of road
where dead and bloodless livestock turned up in pastures where they
grazed. At least that’s what a recent copy of the Sunday Sports
reported, a tabloid he regularly read.
“Vampires killed ‘em and drank their blood,” the paper quoted one
victimized goat-herder as saying, and though the words read like
crazy-talk, each dead animal did have a set of identical puncture wounds
on the neck. “They live in that castle.” A photograph accompanied the
article. “I’ve seen ‘em. Nothing like this happened before they moved
in.” The goat herder’s words stuck with the courier like a festering
splinter in his mind. It didn’t help that his route would take him to
the very castle mentioned in the article.
Sue Dent hails from Mississippi and is the author of Never Ceese and Forever Richard the first two installments in her Thirsting for Blood Series. Her debut novel Never Ceese appeared on the 2007 preliminary ballot for a Bram Stoker Award. Her second book in her Thirsting for Blood Series, Forever Richard, made the 2010 long-list at the British Fantasy Society.
Both Never Ceese and Forever Richard made the 2009 Pluto Award long-list with Never Ceese moving onto the top three books short-listed. Never Ceese was also Book Club Choice of the month at the American Christian Fiction Writers Association in May of 2007 when Sue was a member. Sue no longer pays to be a member due to the fact that the ACFW is a writer's group designed to help author's find homes with CBA niche market publishers. Sue is currently a member of HWA, Horror Writer's of America.
Dent’s stories continue to appeal to general market readers with surprise appeal to the denominationally discriminative (niche market CBA member publisher's serve. Ms. Dent likes to point out that though her work appeals to readers of this niche market, she does not write specifically for that market which is why you won't find her work in CBA member bookstores or rather on any shelf at any Christian Retailer or even listed on-line at member on-line bookstores such as Christianbook.com.
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