The Cowboy and the Vampire: The Last Sunset
The Cowboy and the Vampire Collection
Book Four
Book Four
Clark Hays and Kathleen McFall
Genre: Horror, Western, PNR
Publisher: Pumpjack Press
Date of Publication: June 9, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-9974113-0-0
ASIN: B01F0MFBE2
Number of pages: 357
Word Count: 83,000
Cover Artist: Aaron Perkins
Book Description:
The Cowboy and the Vampire: The Last Sunset is the fourth book in award-winning The Cowboy and the Vampire Collection, a series called everything from cult classic to trailblazer in a new genre: Western Gothic.
Take one long, last look at LonePine, Wyoming, population 438. It’s been two years since the vampires quit the quirky little town and things are mostly back to normal — broken dreams and never enough whiskey. But that’s about to go to hell.
Hold on tight for a midnight showdown when a psychotic religious order takes the entire town hostage — including Tucker's long-lost brother — to lure Lizzie from her frozen exile in Russia. The mad monks know Lizzie’s murder will strand the ruling vampire elite in a disembodied afterlife so the cult can impose their twisted beliefs on the living and undead alike. It’s a rip-roarin’ stampede as a cowboy and a vampire try to round up the shattered pieces of their unusual romance.
With the fate of the world on the line yet again, can Tucker and Lizzie put aside their broken hearts to face one last sunset together?
Slap leather or reach for the sky.
This is the fourth book in The Cowboy and the Vampire Collection.
Excerpt:
The first few
months were anguish. But then she threw herself into bringing order to her
inherited chaos. If she was to run this vampire shit show, she would run it
right. And she had, intensely, ruthlessly, for the first year.
Now, everyone
knew the rules, knew the consequences for breaking the coda, and—if
grudgingly—understood the wisdom behind the annual allocation. She kept her
word, showing no favoritism. Nine turns picked by the Council, followed by one
pick for Lizzie, with nine nights of rest. By the end of the first year, a
fragile trust in her leadership was established.
By the beginning
of the second year of her self-imposed exile, as the intensity of the work
began to wane, she realized something had shifted. The full weight of her
future lodged permanently, sadly, in her soul.
Rurik, forever
circling like a handsome vulture, sensed the change.
“Finally, you
admit to yourself he is not coming for you,” Rurik said.
“I knew he
wouldn’t come,” Lizzie said, more sharply than intended.
“I’m not the one
who requires persuading on this point,” Rurik said. “But no matter the reason,
I am pleased. Stop working so hard. Amuse yourself with the privileges and
pleasures your position affords. You can have anything you want, with no
punishment.”
“Punishment?”
“From the
society you once valued, or from yourself,” Rurik said. “You are free from
guilt, free of all constraints, free to act upon your desires and to assume the
glorious existence that awaits only your assent.”
Rurik felt
something akin to compassion as he watched Lizzie struggle to control her
emotions, mistaking liberation for captivity. He was right in one sense,
though; she was coming to the same realization all vampires faced at some point
in their long, undead existence, even those whose turning was consensual: there
was no going back.
Yes, Lizzie
thought, defiantly, as the first year passed into the second. If she was no
longer ever to be a human, she might as well have fun. Why the hell not? She
submerged herself into her passions and found that although not exactly
fulfilling, it was diverting, covering her nightly routines with a shroud of
hedonistic numbness that prevented any feelings at all—other than immediate
pleasure—from surfacing.
She would never
admit it, ever, but Rurik was right on another point. She had waited. She had
hoped he would come for her, but why would he? She made it clear by breaking
his heart that they would never be together. That he believed her ruse broke
her heart.
Such a sad and
dusty little tragedy, she thought, clutching the railing. A shadow by the
lake’s edge caught her eye—Rurik, out with his dogs.
He felt her gaze
and looked up, taking in her nude body and letting his senses wash over it, the
closest—it seemed—he would come to possessing her, at least for the time being.
She could feel
his heart stuttering, but held her own body in perfect check until he averted
his eyes and continued his walk.
Lizzie once
again considered whether it was time to move. Rurik’s home was spacious and
lonely and safe and remote, and while he had been a good host to her, he
enjoyed the power of proximity over the other tribes, and she understood he was
motivated by a hope of his own.
“It is
inevitable that you and I come together,” he once told her. “You have known
this since we first met in that godforsaken American outpost.”
“Nothing is
inevitable,” she said. Thwarting his passions had become a habit.
She wondered if
Rurik ever missed the man he had once been, the brilliant military strategist
who helped turn back the crusaders all those many years ago in a battle for
Russia’s soul. “Ironic that you lost your soul in the process,” she said aloud
and in his direction.
Her private cell
phone buzzed on the bedside table. Lizzie padded back into the room, the
wolfhound in tow.
Elita. She
picked up the phone.
“Yes?”
“My queen,”
Elita said, managing to sound both sarcastic and reverential. Was there a
difference, Lizzie wondered?
“My loyal
subject, my lovely maid-in-waiting,” Lizzie replied. In all this madness, Elita
was her only certainty.
“Whatever that
means,” Elita said. “How’s the frozen tundra treating you?”
“Still frozen.
Have you wrestled the American Royals and the Reptiles into peaceful
coexistence?”
“We’re making
progress, one corpse at a time.”
“When will you
visit?” Lizzie asked.
“I’m on my way
now,” Elita said.
Lizzie paused.
That was not a good sign. “That’s a welcome, but unexpected surprise.”
“What I must
tell you may not be so welcome.”
“Tell me now,”
Lizzie said.
“I’ll save the
details until I can tell you face to face, but in brief, I’ve heard rumblings,
screaming really, that you have a new enemy.”
“Why would that
concern me?”
“Keep your guard
up until I arrive.”
“My guard is
never down,” Lizzie said, breaking the connection.”
About the Authors:
Between the two of them, Clark Hays and Kathleen McFall have worked in writing jobs ranging from cowboy-poet to energy journalist to restaurant reviewer to university press officer. After they met, their writing career took center stage when they wrote the first book in The Cowboy and the Vampire Collection as a test for marriage. They passed. Clark and Kathleen now live in Portland, Oregon.
Website: www.cowboyandvampire.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/cowboyandvampire
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cowboyvamp
1 comments:
Thanks for helping us spread the word about our books! You're site just keeps getting awesomer (which should be a word). Are there dark forces at play? We certainly hope so.
Post a Comment