My name is Matthew Mitchell. I’m a vampire slayer. My return to Nottingham wasn’t to recapture memories of youth. It was to put an end to the choke hold rogue Amara half-breeds put on that part of England. My husband, Dean Sutton, and I arrived determined to track down Amdis, the leader of the rogues, and kill him. Chances were, if I had to put up with Dean for much longer, I’d want to kill him, too.
The noble purebred Amara’s were long gone. Dairy pages, supposedly written by legendary Emrys Amara, were fraudulent. That was what I believed. Nothing could convince me otherwise. A teenage vampire couldn’t survive without his family. Emrys was sixteen when turned by the equally as legendary Mihangel Amara. That’s if he’d ever existed at all.
The only good vampire is a dead vampire. Another thing I fervently believed. As my marriage crumbled around me, I found myself drawn into the arms of another. Dean’s taunts haunted me: He’s not centuries old, Matthew, he’s been sixteen for centuries. He’ll always be sixteen. You’re sick for fantasising about a child.
Lost, lonely, and orphaned, Emrys Amara made me vow to send him to God in return for killing Amdis. He then stole my heart completely, changed my fate, and changed my life. This is our story. It’s a story of destiny, of profound love, of hope, and the rebirth of the greatest vampire clan in history.