SHADOWLOVE--STALKERS

  He had to interfere with Shawna’s future…

  The alternative was, for him, unthinkable.

  “Excuse me.” Shawna sidestepped the big hunk of a man, who seemed to purposely get in her way, and started across the street.

  Chadwick MacFare fell into a clipped walk beside her, and his voice was low but intense. “Listen to me, Shawna Wellsly—you are in terrible danger, and you know it. I know it. They might not know where you are yet, but eventually they will find you.”

  “You’re nuts,” Shawna scoffed as she kept on walking—faster then before.

  He didn’t miss a step. “You know otherwise.”

  “Get away from me before I call the cops.”

  “You won’t do that. It would draw attention to yourself—and you can’t afford that.” Suddenly he had her shoulders in his large hands. His green eyes stared hard into her silver pools. “Just stop!”

  “Stop! You are a total stranger, talking nonsense, and I am warning you…” Shawna grimaced at him. “Get your hands off me.”

  * * *

  He gave it up. The way he saw it was that at least for the moment she was not in any immediate danger, even though he had seen more than the ordinary numbers of vampires since he had arrived last night. He could try again later, but not too much later, not with the vision he had still taunting him.

  This time he had to succeed. He had to interfere with Shawna’s future.

  The alternative was, for him, unthinkable.

  Other books by Claudy Conn

  Published by Wings ePress

  Spellbound—Legend

  Shee Willow—Legend

  Trapped—Legend (August 2011)

  Published by The Wild Rose Press

  Darklove (late summer 2011)

  Written as Claudette Williams

  After the Storm

  Blades of Passion

  Cassandra

  Cherry Ripe

  Cotillion for Mandy

  Courting Christina

  A Daring Deceit

  Desert Rose, English Moon

  Fire and Desire

  Heart of Fancy

  Lady Barbara

  Lady Bell

  Lady Madcap

  Lady Magic

  Lady Runaway

  Lady Sunshine

  Lady Velvet

  Lord Wildfire

  Masquerade Waltz

  Myriah

  Passion's Pride

  A Rake's Folly

  Regency Star

  Sassy

  Song of Silkie

  Spring Gambit

  Sunday's Child

  The Convenient Romance(ss)

  Jewelene

  Lacey

  Naughty Lady Ness

  Mary, Sweet Mary

  Lady Brandy

  Hotspur & Taffeta

  Sweet Disorder

  Acclaim for Spellbound—Legend

  One hot and thrilling book

  I fell for all three of the main characters, fun loving Maxie, dark and brooding Julian, and one hot Fae, Breslyn. However, it wasn’t just the characters that kept me on the edge of my seat, it was the entire involved plot that included jealously, betrayal, magic, murder, and, of course, hot passion … Like all good thrillers, it seemed as one problem was solved another would spring up. The last few pages had me hoping that this is the first of a new series that will be worth each torturous wait for the next book. The well-written out mixture of myth and legend, not to mention the characters, all in today’s world has me Joyfully Recommending Spellbound-Legend as one book you won’t want to miss.

  ~ Jo, Joyfully Reviewed

  This is one book I’ll never forget

  The author has done a magnificent job of creating the world of the Tuatha De Danaan, the Druids and the humans who interact with them. She succeeds in making them so realistic, I found myself believing they really exist—and who knows, perhaps they do… Their dangerous situations had me on the edge of my seat, while the loves scenes had me enthralled. I am excited about this book, which, apparently, is the first of a series, and will definitely begin collecting them as they become available. This author will become one of my favorites.

  ~ Jaye Leyel, The Romance Studio

  Praise for Shee Willow—Legend

  Five Stars! A Joyfully Recommended Read, June 2011

  Once again Conn ignites the page with hunk madness

  Shee Willow carries us deep into the world of Fae intrigue and danger … exciting and fast paced, this is a novel with plenty of plot twists and surprises to support the romance … Conn brings back the cast of Faery characters we fell in love with from Spellbound—Legend, deepening the Seelie intrigues, romance, and dangers in part two of the series. Conn is in high form and never shorts her heroine or her reader. Once again Conn ignites the page with hunk madness, as every which way Willow turns brings hot potential for love and misdirection. It is pure torture deciding which of the men or Fae to fantasize over, and I do so love the bad ones!

  ~ Vonnie Faroqui, Ink Slinger’s Whimsey

  A great combination of paranormal, scorching romance, and suspense!

  Ms. Conn again brings readers a different side of lore and allure surrounding the Fae. Willow and Shayne’s storyline was magical, in the sense that you knew something greater, deeper was in store for them. Then add Breslyn, the Dagda Prince, childhood crush of Willow, into the mix… just get comfy, because you are in for a heck of a rollercoaster… Thankfully, another title will be released soon. I cannot wait until the simmering conflict between the Seelie Fae and Unseelie Fae reaches its boiling point!

  ~ Monica Solomon, The Romance Readers Connection

  ShadowLove

  Stalkers

  Shadow Series, Book 1

  By

  Claudy Conn

  Edited by: Karen Babcock

  Cover Artist: Rae Monet

  All rights reserved

  Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Claudy Conn

  http://www.claudyconn.com

  Copyright © 2011 by Claudy Conn

  Published in the United States of America

  June 2011

  Dedication

  To our daughter, Dawn, who has created a world of joy, and spoiled us with her love.

  Prologue

  A LONG, LONG time ago…

  Little was known of the infamous Dracula’s mother, and during the first twenty-five years of Dracula’s somewhat normal life he knew nothing of her at all. Hers was a name no one in his father’s household was allowed to speak, and Vlad Dracula grew to manhood believing she was dead.

  That was what his father had told him…

  He discovered her name when he was just coming into his teens. At first, he used to whisper it on the wind—Elizabeth.

  He didn’t know that she had only been sixteen and full of life, with eyes the color of fresh spring grass and hair the color of gathered honey, the day his father saw her. He didn’t know she had been an innocent approaching maturity with an enormous secret she kept well hidden from the outside world.

  She kept those secrets still…

  When Count Wendall Dracula came to the Highlands, locals looked away in fear, for his behavior was brutish. They were suspicious of him and recognized that he was a warrior with a ‘rough old Eastern minds
et’. He rode out on his horse every morning, and on one of those mornings he saw Elizabeth.

  She had been picking wildflowers for her grandfather—her parents had been killed in a wagon accident the year before, so it was just she and her grandfather. Wildflowers for the wine her grandfather was making…

  The count took one look at her and decided he had to have her, cursing whatever consequences there might be. He wanted her—that was all he cared about. And in the stealth of night he managed to abduct Elizabeth MacFare from her grandfather, and her home.

  During those first ten months Elizabeth’s grandfather and village friends searched for her everywhere. They had no idea who had taken her. Wendall Dracula left behind no clues.

  Back in his country, the count didn’t court her, he didn’t cherish her, and he didn’t really love her. Elizabeth was a possession to him, and she despised him—all the while, planning her escape.

  She became pregnant almost immediately, and when she discovered she was pregnant with twins, she enlisted the help of her young midwife and friend. Together they kept the knowledge that she was pregnant with twins a secret from the overbearing count. He only knew she was going to have his child, and for him that was enough; it was what he wanted.

  She got larger during those first months of pregnancy, he lost interest, and he left her to her own devices while he pursued other women—and other entertainment. It gave her the freedom to plot out her course.

  Elizabeth had made up her mind that as soon as they were born, she would take one of her twins and run…

  Her plan was well thought out. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the only way she knew to save at least one of her children, and herself, and return home.

  She did not fear for the child she would leave behind. She knew that although the count was a selfish, often mean-spirited, and willful man, he wanted a child with all his heart, and she believed that he would love his child.

  Her twins were born, and her plan was put into action. The count was enamored with the one son that was put into his huge hands and had no clue that he had twins. He no longer had any interest in Elizabeth, for she had served her purpose. When the midwife told him she had a difficult delivery and needed rest, he was more than willing to leave her to her sickbed as he coddled his son and cavorted with his court.

  Thus, with her son hidden in her arms, she ran for the border, and there bought her way home to her grandfather.

  In the ‘old country’ the count poured all his time and endeavors into the hearty son Elizabeth had given him before she fled his house. He didn’t bother trying to follow her. His pride prohibited him from caring.

  He had not allowed her name to be mentioned in his presence, and he told everyone that he had gotten news of her death.

  His son, Vlad Dracula, gave him great joy, and as Elizabeth expected, Vlad’s childhood was a pleasant one.

  As Vlad grew to manhood and took on the duties of a warrior, his father slapped shoulders of his friends and claimed his son’s prowess with great pride. Truly, his son was strong and capable. However in his quiet hours, he thought to himself, If only he were less gentle of nature—less good-hearted.

  And then, Vlad fell in love and married a lass that was as beautiful of heart as she was of face. Vlad adored her, and she softened his combative nature and drew on the gentleness that was, and should have remained, his.

  Vlad’s father was furious. He wanted war with other lands. He wanted to take on and destroy any that opposed war. He needed more land, more gold, and his son was being swayed against such things by his new bride.

  While Vlad was away defending their territory, the count engineered the death of Vlad’s beloved bride. And so the legend began.

  Vlad discovered his father’s hand in his bride’s death and responded by picking up his long sword, which he plunged deep into and through his father’s heart. His rage not assuaged, he then sliced across his father’s neck so vigorously that the count’s head, splattering blood everywhere, went flying across the room.

  His father was not immortal. His father was not a vampire. Dracula looked at the corpse of his father and felt only one thing: rage.

  Vlad became Count of Dracula, and he went on the bloody rampage that won him the title “Vlad the Impaler”.

  It was then that he discovered that he was immortal. He knew at once that this had not come from his father’s side of the family. He had often seen his father sustain an injury that took as long as most to heal. He realized that all his life, his wounds had healed quickly—too quickly to be a natural thing.

  And so a curiosity that had always been in the back of his head was revived. His mother—what had really happened to his mother? If she had given him this self-healing ability he possessed, surely she had not died. Was she also immortal? Why then had she left him?

  However, his new and decadent life enveloped him, and he put the question aside.

  Vlad Dracula, father of all vampire tales, was not by the true definition of the word, a vampire. He did not die, to awake a vampire. He did not die and awake with a thirst for blood. He did not die and awaken an immortal. He was born an immortal. His lust for blood and killing was born from the need for revenge and the loss of his soul in black magic.

  He became skilled in the dark arts as he denounced God and all religion. He dove into wicked pursuits in an effort to eradicate the memory of his beloved. Memory was too painful; memory left him empty.

  And then he began turning humans. He discovered quite by accident that if he allowed a human he had impaled to drink his blood they would die, yes, but be reborn with a thirst for blood, and a need to kill. This amused him for a time.

  One day, something someone said made him remember that his mother was an immortal and must have untold abilities. He grew bitter when he thought about her. Why had she left him was a question that ate at the soul he had not quite lost. His soul was a dark, dense shade of black, but it was there somewhere inside of him.

  Thus, in the nineteenth century he began his search for her. He only knew his mother’s name had been Elizabeth.

  In the Highlands of Scotland, his mother and Dracula’s twin had prospered over the centuries, keeping their secrets to themselves. Elizabeth MacFare’s grandfather had died shortly after her return and had left her his fortune intact. She knew her grandfather was not immortal, knew of course that neither of her parents were immortal, and she wondered how it was that she was. At that time, she hadn’t realized the truth of the matter.

  Elizabeth had named the son she kept with her John, and he took her family name—MacFare. Together they went forward.

  She never ceased to mourn the empty spot she had for her other son, Vlad Dracula. She knew that one day he might discover that she and John were alive—

  And tales of what he had become made his mother’s gentle heart tremble.

  “For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.”

  Judy Garland

  ~ One ~

  CHADWICK MACFARE STOOD on the stone steps of Darby Bray Grange, his Scottish home, and stared up at the stars. They were bright and appeared full of untold stories. Some of the stars seemed to take shape, forming a warning in the night sky.

  He had just walked Mary Beth to her car, and he watched as she started to drive off. Her convertible top was down, and her red hair glowed in the dim lights that lined his courtyard.

  He had felt nothing but relief as he watched her leave. She was a lovely, experienced young woman, and he thought she had understood the rules. He had told her from the start he was looking for ‘fun’—not friendship, not a romantic tie, nothing stable…

  He had told her they could never have a future together. She was a worldly lass, and he was sure she understood what he had said to her. However, apparently he had been off the mark.

  Every expression on her classically lovely face lately had told him she wanted permanence, at odds with the fact that everything about h
er told him that she was not in love with him. She wanted position, money, and power.

  Lately, every word she spoke seemed to hold less affection for him, seemed calculated. This night, more than ever, she had tried to force his hand. She had suggested that if he weren’t ready to declare himself, she might have to start ‘seeing’ other men.

  He had given her a long look. He had already decided it was over between them. He answered softly, “Aye then, Mary Beth, you are entitled to do that, and have the life you want.”

  “I want it with you,” she snapped at him.

  “You want it with what I own.”

  “You are being cynical.”

  “I am being truthful.”

  She had dropped the subject and had instead returned to enticing him physically, but he had already made up his mind to say goodnight.

  He sensed her resignation as she turned away. She knew he was saying good-bye, and he knew she wouldn’t be deterred. “You want me. You will always want me. We are good together.”

  He had frowned. She didn’t want to see the truth—and Mary Beth had a history of parading her men on her arm. He knew she would fight losing him.

  She had stroked his dark blond hair and kissed his hard chin. “You know I more than want you, Chad.”

  “Do I know that? Mary Beth…come on—let me walk you out to your car…”

  “But…we are good for each other.”

  “No—in fact, we are not.”

  She pulled away. “Ah—this sounds like good-bye.” She wasn’t looking at him as the words were spat from her pretty red lips.

  “Mary Beth…I told you what I wanted—didn’t want—from the start.”

  However, she was already out of his bed and throwing on her clothes. “Don’t ye worry none about it, love. Ye be in the right of it. I knew where this was going the first time you kissed me. It was always about good-bye.”