Tag Archives: Fiction

Announcing Christmas Hart: Book 4 of Vaktare of All Realms

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Available this Black Friday, I’m ecstatic to announce that my latest book Christmas Hart will be out in e-book, paperback and hardcover copies! It’s been nearly six years since I last published, so I am truly happy to be bringing this story to you.

Christmas has a Hart. And she’s back in action!

Shira Hart’s first Christmas with her newfound family was supposed to be all gingerbread houses and carolers who could actually carry a tune. Instead, Shira Hart finds the Tro Fidem’s holiday traditions spiraling into chaos: the Guardian lion humping the Christmas tree, her cat divorcing her, Skids being forced into playing a tipsy St. Nicholas, and the church’s annual Christmas Eve nativity pageant running amok thanks to her fiancé’s ex-girlfriend’s portrayal of the Virgin Mary.

When Rex reveals that he’s never experienced a true Christmas before, Shira is dragged into a holiday adventure involving questionable fruitcake, a wedding dress that no one wants to wear, and more awkward ex-girlfriend turned pregnant armadillo encounters than should be legally allowed.

Packed with laugh‑out‑loud moments, Christmas Hart proves that Christmas miracles come in all shapes and sizes – sometimes with a senile, jukebox-obsessed phoenix, or sometimes with a Christmas Nativity miracle authored by the divine Creator of the holiday itself.

Pick up your copy today to experience the true meaning of Christmas. Get yours here today: https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Hart-Dragons-V%C3%A4ktare-Realms-ebook/dp/B0DRSXXTJQhttps://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Hart-Dragons-V%C3%A4ktare-Realms-ebook/dp/B0DRSXXTJQ

Plus all you Wings of Caligo fans, enjoy the surprise character-crossover. Prince Dare and Kenzie will be making their royal appearance for Christmas!

Note: this book belongs to a series and is not a standalone book. It mentions previous events from the book series, so it is best for the reader experience if the first three books are read in order.

The Ahuizotl Attack – A Sneak Preview At Sicario – A Del Muerta Novel

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“…With Jorge sprinting toward us through the camp and yelling my name, I darted forward. Blatant fright showed on his face before he on the edge of a tent and stumbled. “Mariss – nah, Aiyla! You need to come now! Everyone! Monster, plus him! Whatshisname!” he yelled, pointing at Mortimer.

Jogging through the tent city and skirting people as they emerged to see what was going on, I attempted to ascertain what was up. Jorge kept shaking his head and putting his hands up as if he were past words, leading us to the docks.

Finally getting there, we were greeted by a herd of wailing young children and a hysterical mother clutching one of them. It took me a few seconds to realize she was holding a body, not a live child. Judging by the blood coating her skin, whatever had become of the kid was grotesque.

I recoiled as the boy’s head lolled back to reveal bloody, gouged out eyes. The eye sockets were empty. Blood dribbled from his slackened mouth. The nail beds of his hands and feet were clawed off, skin ripped down to the bone. Blood and dirty, slimy water streamed off them as if they’d come out of the canal. She continued to scream and cry, wailing to the heavens for God to help her.

Teagan took one look at the scene and recoiled, going over to the side of the canal. He gestured to me that there were more remains in the water, though his face remained twisted with dismay.

Going to his side, I peered over the side. Blood tinted the water and the sides of the dock. Bubbles continued to surface from below the depths of the tide. One fingernail, bits of a toe and what looked like a fanged tooth floated in the water.

Beyond words myself and now understanding Jorge’s hyper freaked out state, Mortimer voiced instead for us, “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” the mother wailed, stroking the hair back on her boy’s head. “Los niños said the thing came out of the water and grabbed him! They ran to me and when I got here, he was floating…”

She began to sob anew, crying for her son to come back to her. The sobs progressed back to wails and screams, despite my attempting to comfort her. She wailed for God to return him to us.

“Floating face down,” Jorge confirmed to Teagan and I, his voice two pitches higher than it usually was. He shifted behind me as if for his protection. “He was found like this within minutes of his being dragged down…”

So whatever did this could drown and maim a kid to this extent in that time?

“What kind of thing?” I asked, forcing myself into calm.

“It went for his eyes!” a smaller girl cried, sobbing from the ground. Another boy sat next to her, staring into nothing as if she’d disassociated in shock. “It cried like a bebé!”

“’It’?” I couldn’t help but repeat, beginning to understand why Jorge was so freaked out. Everyone present for the attack appeared as though they’d seen a ghost. Either that or a zombie.

Especially as the girl cried out, “Ahuizotl! The water god! It had to be!”

This was getting downright weird.

If I remembered the Aztec legend that I’d been told in my childhood, the creature was a friend to the rain gods. It preyed on people and dragged them into the water to feed. It was described to be like a possum or a dexterous monkey with hands, a prehensile tail and with grey, pointed ears. But it was the size of a small dog with a hand on the end of its tail.

“There’s no teeth either,” Jorge muttered, gesturing at the boy’s body. “Whatever it was pulled out his nails, eyes and teeth while the kids ran for help and found me. When I got here, something threw itself into the water to hide. From the rear view, it looked like a small monkey.” He looked to me for answers. “Tell me it can’t be. It can’t be Ahuizotl. Can it?”

The hair on the back of my neck didn’t rise like a cliché, frightened reaction. The hairs may as well have curled up and retreated into my skin with the bizarre feeling spreading though me. I had no words of comfort for him or anyone. Especially since small, clawed paw prints in the dirt led to the edge of the canal docks.
“Jesucristo hear me! Send him back!” the mother screeched, devolving into what I could interpret as unintelligible keens.
“For God’s sake, get out of the way!” Mortimer snapped, seizing the body from her and turning it over. Before she could stop him, he whacked the kid’s back so hard that I heard a bone crunch. Water erupted from his mouth. “Didn’t anybody try CPR?!”
I squatted next to Mortimer as he began trying to beat life back into the little boy’s chest. I radioed for any kind of medical professional to come to our aid.
Minutes passed. Brio came running up, kneeling next to us to help after hearing the screams.
As I pleaded for help, I was beyond astonished as more water came from the kid’s mouth. He took a shuddering, painful breath that turned into frantic coughing. Mort massaged his shoulders. “That a boy, kid. Breathe. You ain’t no goner.”
The mother screamed with joy, sitting over the child between thanking Mortimer and praising God. The boy morphed from hacking to sobbing, convulsing in on himself from the pain.
“I need an ambulance,” I stated again, sending the plea through to the local police radio dispatch. One of Carlos’ men responded, saying that they were sending medics.
I glared at Jorge who put his hands up. Jorge who I knew was perfectly proficient at CPR.
“They said he was dead, man,” Jorge said, somewhat less upset than before. “Who was I to disagree? You saw what he looked like. And you didn’t try CPR either!”
Darn. Jorge had me there. I’d taken the boy’s state at face value as well. Then he cocked a grin. “But I’m not sure who to thank for his resurrection, God or good ol’ Morty.”
“Both. It was Yaweh’s divine will that he was here to save the boy from the grip of death at the hand of that satanic, Nephilim spawn,” Brio agreed, kneeling beside the boy to lift him. “And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. I’ll get him to the gates.”
Satanic Nephilim spawn. Well, that was certainly an apt descriptive for whatever it was that attacked in the first place. Either way, I was rather impressed with Brio’s ability to insert a bible verse into any situation. The last bit was from Romans if I wasn’t very much mistaken. Then again, I’d prayed for someone to come save me months ago, the night before Kit’d crashed into my life. I supposed that verse should be near and dear to my heart as well.
“Get the kid to a hospital. He needs to be assessed for oxygen deprivation,” Mortimer croaked, wiping the child’s blood from his face. He sat back on his rear end and heaved in a huge breath as Brio ran with the child. The mother followed…
…

Sicario Book 3 The Sanctum of Hell series (Del Muerta)
Copyright Maggie Lynn Heron-Heidel 2015

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I Am Not Afraid To Stand Firm On My Faith

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To those who have dared to accuse me of not practicing what I preach, my faith reaches out through every single book I write. The proof is in the pudding:


…
“Where are you going?” Rex demanded, following me. I walked to the waterfall, transfixed by it. It was calling to me. Its unearthly beauty was like a siren’s call, urging me to touch it. I did and drew my hand back, wondering how my hand could feel like it was being submerged in ice and fire at the same time. I touched it again and the water-like substance came down over my arm, seeming to glow only brighter. It was beautiful, moving in waves over my skin. But when I realized that it was moving up my arm all of its own volition and heading toward my shoulder, I pulled back. That didn’t stop it, though. I tried to pull it off with my other hand, but more of it pooled onto that hand and moved up that arm. I tore at it, starting to feel panicked, but quickly gave up all hope as it spread all over my whole body, centering over my heart.

I cried out as the waterfall suddenly reached out and enveloped me, seeming to start from where the waters pooled over my heart. I screwed my eyes up, thinking I was going to drown, but the loss of feeling never came. Opening my eyes, I was blinded by light again. But this time it seemed to come from within me. Though I could hear no words, strident murmurings met my ears. Or was it my ears? I seemed to be hearing nothing at all, yet I could perceive the sound of voices; hundreds of them that all seemed to belong to the same source. A warm feeling of love came with them as I tried to understand exactly what was happening. Could this be the place of healing Shitheed spoke of?

“Who are you?”I asked, still able to speak through the light and water. The whispering still continued, but no answer came to me.

“There’s no one here,” Rex said, starting to sound frightened. “What’s the matter with you, Shira?!”

But I couldn’t listen as a strong wave of energy washed over my soul, taking me over. Memories that didn’t seem to belong to me crashed through my mind, spinning into a crescendo that I couldn’t follow. People and places that I had never seen were given to my mind. But after what seemed like an instant of an eternity, I started to recognize certain people. Treyven spun past and Shitheed along with a lot of others whom I didn’t know. Knowledge of what I must do was being given to me, to be made sure I was ready.

“What are you?”I asked again, watching in wonder as I was taught what would be needed in the future. I didn’t get an answer, nor did I need one as a thunderous wave of love and power came to me, feeling like it was wrapping around my entire being.

It was the One from which all Tro came. This was the Presence Brin was always speaking of and praying to. No doubt sat in my mind now. He promised me all of the joy of the future and the hope of the past if only I would trust Him. I held on for a second and then surrendered to Him totally, hoping it was the right thing to do. Unable to comprehend the vast feeling of power around me, I felt tiny in the way of His path. I was nothing without Him and everything to Him. We all were it seemed. He heard my plea for healing and for my memories to return and acted on it, spinning renewed life through my mind. I sighed as the power leant strength to my weak limbs and restored them. But I reached out as it withdrew, leaving my mind. My brain was full of knowledge and powerful promise. I closed my eyes in acceptance as I realized that my recollections and powers had not been given back to me. There was something I would do in the future that would bring them back to me, but the time was not now. With one last hug around my soul, the Presence was gone from me, leaving only my confusion and gratitude. But now opening my eyes, I saw that I never even moved. My foot was still where it had been and Chalorn was still pressed into my side, waiting to see if anything would emerge from the bushes.

Rex was standing beside me, eyes reeling about. I knew what I experienced hadn’t been a hallucination, but it certainly looked that way. My hands were still on the gun and I tapped the ground in front of my foot with the edge of my sneaker. It was solid. There was no underground caverns here or beneath my feet.

Rex was whirling around next to me, utterly nerve stricken. He stopped, looking to me with open fear. “I saw it. I touched your mind and it was real…“ No one was more surprised than me as Rex lost his composure entirely and stumbled to his knees, tripping over his shoes. “It was real,” he said again, eyes not quite focused on me as the truth came over him. “He was real.”

Chalorn whimpered up at me with wide eyes and then moved in front of me, sniffing the ground. Somehow I knew he was looking for the fish we’d seen. He looked at me with a confused sniff and then sat with a thud, throwing his head back into a mournful cry. I shook my head and stowed my gun back into its holster, still weirded out by this whole thing. But as I did, I froze again, seeing that there were silver lines all over my skin. They twisted around my limbs and gleamed as they began to fade.

“Do you have your memories?”Rex asked weakly, getting to his feet. I dragged my sleeves up, looking for the lines, but they were gone. Amazingly on top of that, my clothes were tight to my skin, baggy no longer. The bruises and redness were gone, too.

“I’m healed,” I whispered, seeing how I’d been restored.

(Forgotten Hart)

Do not dare question my dedication to God. Good will always prevail over evil, whether you falsely judge me or not.

I believe.

– @highlight Maggie Lynn

Cursed Hart: An Exclusive Excerpt

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Prologue – 1989

Screams of agony shattered the stillness of the night air. There was nothing I could do for the victims, as I sat on the front porch of the mansion. Nor anything I would do to block the sound out. I listened, refusing to let them suffer alone; bearing the brunt of the evil’s wrath. I would suffer with them as I suffered with so many others before, bearing witness to their destruction. While I wasn’t the reason these people were meeting their deaths, I was certainly the reason they wouldn’t live through the night.

This family didn’t deserve this any more than any of the other victims. My power could have saved them. Furthermore, I was sorely tempted to shield them from this fate. But I couldn’t. Someone had to die. Someone must distract the evil one from the three beings escaping out the back door of the mansion. No, it was far too important that the others live; that she, the herald Väktare, survive.

Then all was still.

The front door opened slowly as the other male stepped out. Hatred flared through me, but I hid it well. I would wait until the time was right for my revenge. For now I would play the loyal servant, even as I longed to rip his entrails out for all the darkness he spread across the planet.

“The girl is missing,” the figure in the doorway hissed, blood from the victims inside still dripping off of his fingers. “Her cradle was empty.”

“Oh?” I asked, feigning surprise. “The Hart child?”

“Yes, that child!” the dark figure snapped furiously. “Find her. Bring her to me!”

“Of course. Anything else I need accomplish?”

“Just get her!” he thundered, setting the mansion on fire with a spell. “The family is dealt with. The Fidem must have taken her! They have her. I know it!“

“I understand your consternation, Master, but I find it very unlikely that the Fidem would leave the family here and take the child instead. It’s highly illogical for the family to hide the child but not themselves-”

“Families are illogical. The attachment to each other impairs their judgment to the point of stupidity,” the dark figure in the cloak replied coldly. “Hence the ease of their murders! I didn’t even exert myself to drain them of their life forces! Just bring the child to-“

“You. I heard you the first time, Master,” I added hastily, rising from the stoop.

“She is mine,” the other said, eyes gleaming like the demon he was. “Her power will be mine! Do not fail this time. This is the Väktare I have waited for. Even now, she still will not escape.”

A thrill of foreboding ran through me upon hearing his glee. “What have you done?”

“She will be cursed,” he crowed over my quiet question, flames spiraling higher around him. “All of her power will bend to my will and anyone who helps her remain free shall be routed where they stand! Death and pain will follow her every step until she is mine!”

No more was said as the figure in the dark cloak vanished. The only signs that he had even been here were the bloody footprints leading back into the house. Those prints told me not to bother to check inside for survivors. The cloying feel of death was still floating around in the air.

But even with that in mind, I couldn’t help but grimly smile. This made worthwhile the sacrifice of all the countless beings before that had been murdered. The Väktare’s family would rest well in their graves if they knew how much rested on her life. As for my beloved… well, I couldn’t think about her now.

I had succeeded. The dark one failed, even with his cursing her life. The girl had survived.

Cursed Hart available Now at amazon.com/author/maggielynnheronheidel

Cursed Hart copyright © Maggie Lynn Heron-Heidel

A New Week & A New Friend

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Man, oh man, another week has gone by. Now we’re in the Thanksgiving season and almost to the Christmas sprint of the shopping frenzy. Crazy how time passes, isn’t it? Where did 2019 go?!

Still, at this time of year, some of the best things happen. Families gather, parties commence, and people in retail feel even more exhausted than usual. I’m only teasing with the last one! But after braving the mall the other day, I can certainly empathize with anyone who works in one of those stores!

Either way, one of my personal weaknesses usually surfaces around this season. All of the cutest stuffed animals are put out on display for the poor suckers like me. I’ve always loved fluffy little creatures (as is proven by the live one, Ser Mishka, pictured below), even through my childhood.

Ser Mishka, my in-house dormant wolf shifter

On the shelf while I was grocery shopping, I spotted this lovely little fox. Swayed by the fact I’d never seen a Christmas fox in stores before (and the fact I’m currently writing a Christmas novella for my readers with foxes in it), I decided the lil’ fella would be coming home with me. Bart, as is named the character in the story, is now sitting with me as I write this.

Isn’t he cute?

But that wasn’t where the story ended. Oh, no, of course not. My dear editor upon seeing Bart felt that he wasn’t enough like the character in the story. In the book, the shifter Bart winds up stuck as a fennec fox. For anyone not familiar with the species, fennec foxes looks entirely different than a common fox. Not swayed by her argument, Bart still stayed with me.

So true to her usual form (and sixth sense intuition that no one except the good Lord himself can explain), guess what was sitting in Whole Foods when we arrived there to shop?

Meet Bob. Editor-dearest named him after Bob Newhart because she felt he looked like him. Do you see the resemblance, dear readers? If you’re reading this Mr. Newhart, apparently Bob Foxy Jr. has an adorable face just like yours.

So now I have two foxes, sitting here with me as I type this. Either way, come December when I release ‘Beauty and the Beasts: A Christmas Tail’, you can tell me whether you think ‘Bart’ is more appropriate to the character than ‘Bob’.

Until then, I’m focusing on my current release ‘Cursed Hart’. For those of you who are motorcyclists, I’m holding a fan contest for the release of the book. Send me a photo of you and your motorcycle to be featured. The best photo will win a digital copy of the book when it’s released. Send me a DM here on Facebook to enter.

Thanksgiving will be here in little more than a week, and so will the story! I’m so excited over this series because it is the first series I ever wrote. It’s taken a little longer than the others to get to press, but I’m eager to share Shira Hart’s story with you!

For anyone interested in reading more about Shira’s journey, make sure to check out Cursed Hart here.

Happy Holidays to you all! You’ll be seeing more of Bart and Bob’s adventures, that’s for sure!

– Love Maggie Lynn

P.S. Don’t forget to enter the contest! And if you want to see the cover for Beauty and the Beasts: A Christmas Tail, make sure to hit the like button and share this. I always try to answer reader requests, so show a little love for this blog! God bless you all

If you want a free copy of STILL DEATH, make sure to click below! https://maggielynnheronheidel.wordpress.com/get-free-copy-of-still-death/

How Long Would It Take For A Vampire to Drain A Human Body Of Blood?

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How much time would a vampire take to drain a person of blood?

Well, according to science, the average grown human has about 1.2 to 1.5 gallons (4.5 to 5.5 liters) of blood circulating inside their body. So if you were to be drained of blood, you’d weigh about 10% less of your body’s original mass.

By the time kids are 5 or 6 years old, children contain just about the same amount of blood as adults do. But because children are smaller, their blood makes up a larger percentage of their body weight than in adults.

But what does this have to do with the release of the Vampire’s Handmaiden, you ask? Very simple! We’re busy theorizing just how much blood they can get out of a typical human without killing them. What a lovely, morbid topic, right?!

When donating blood, a person loses about a pint of blood or 10% of it. When you lose about 30% or more, symptoms of the blood loss really start to manifest. That’s around 3 – 4 pints of blood. But when the human body loses 40% or more, hypovolemic shock starts to set in. That’s when things start to shut down and blood pressure starts to drop. I.e., that’s the true danger zone.

So if you were to be bitten by a vampire, there would be two more factors to consider. Thinking of where precisely they bit you would also be a huge detail to take in. The difference between how much blood they’d get on an a major artery (for example the femoral artery or the jugular), would be very different than if they bit you elsewhere in the body. That, and the victim’s blood pressure would definitely contribute, depending on how low it dropped or if it stopped entirely.

Either way, the body can be drained of blood relatively quickly. It would vary person to person, based on their size and where bitten. But either way, most people would be dead within minutes at fastest. It’s a pretty grim way to die in my opinion, but personally I’d prefer it to being torn apart by zombies!

Hope that answers your question, readers! The Vampire’s Handmaiden will be live at midnight tonight, ready to read on October 31st, Halloween 2019! Make sure to pick up your copy HERE.

In the meantime, here’s a synopsis of the novel:

The Vampire’s Handmaiden – Watchmen of the Grail Series

Only one thing matters: the reclamation of Dracula’s soul…

Her blood rights sold in return for her mother’s life, Yasmina Tolite longs to be free of living her life in the night. Bound forever in servitude to a vampire as his handmaiden, her virgin blood belongs to him alone until the day she dies. But when a new neighbor moves in next door and threatens to steal her heart, there’s nothing her vampiric master won’t do to keep her as his.

Between the arrival of Viscount Dracula and the discovery of Van Helsing’s long lost heir, one thing is for certain: the night has just begun.

Dracula’s salvation is at hand. The Holy Grail has been found.

Yasmina Van Helsing will rise. A Watchman has been born.

The Vampire’s Handmaiden is perfect for fans of vampires, were-wolves, were-cockatrices, the Holy Grail, and twisted tales of the undead. Proceed with caution, for the dark fantasy world of the supernatural is about to become yours…

Move out of the way Twilight, Dark Shadows, and the Vampire Diaries fans. The vampire hunters of the Grail are coming for you…

Editorial Review:

“Dang. I’m a writer more than a reader. I’m an editor more than an avid, willing reader. Heavy duty college courses as an English major all but ruined my zest for reading books. Plus, I am not intrigued with those trendy vampire stories. Well, that zest is back along with the intrigue with thanks to Author ML Heron-Heidel. I’ve fallen in love with some of her characters and I passionately want to snuff out some others. With my bare hands nonetheless. Then along comes the talent of their creator and I want to invite most of them into my home. Well, not entirely most. Some are not welcomed yet all live within my mind and heart. They will forever thanks to the talent of this writer. Her work is absolutely brilliant, captivating and never, ever repetitive. With the end of each piece I find myself longing to read more, to know the outcome, the happiness my favorite characters so deserve – and the justice the others’ misdeeds merit. Ah but my thirst is never quenched novel to novel. How absolutely brilliant this author is! I get hooked every single time and, you know what? I’m loving it.”

Order your copy of The Vampire’s Handmaiden here

The Vampire’s Handmaiden: An Exclusive Sneak Peek!

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There was only one thing in the world Count Dracula wanted.

One thing in the entire universe. The entire world could go to hell for all he cared, so long as he got what he desired; what he’d so desperately hunted for centuries. He’d torn up entire continents looking for it, not caring who or what would be destroyed by the search. Only one thing mattered.

Approaching his father’s throne with that in mind, he bowed before the old bastard. He sank down so low that it killed his ego, longing to spring forward and tear his longtime enemy’s throat out; that being … “Father, may I speak with you?”

But it seemed the Viscount already knew why he’d come. He sat back with a smug smile. A very knowing smile. “You’ve finally found it; haven’t you? The being you’ve been searching for so stridently.”

Dracula inclined his head, displeased with the Viscount’s knowledge. “So you do know of Van Helsing’s thievery…”

His father chuckled, gesturing with three fingers that he may leave. “Few things would please me more than to see you reacquire it. I will wait for your return, Rafe. Safe travels.”

“I may not return for decades,” Dracula warned, satisfaction curling around his mind like a sharpened set of claws. His freedom was at hand.

Still the Viscount dismissed him, ignorant of his offspring’s second aim. “Even so, go, my son. You have my blessing.”

Standing upright, he fled from the Viscount’s presence before another word could be said. He’d gotten his permission. The Viscount wouldn’t know of the truth or even search for it for a few decades. Even a century could pass before he would inquire of him again. By then it would be too late.

Ascending to the balcony before anyone could stop him, he’d already embraced his inner monster and shifted, sailing into the air with a savage cry. He rose into the updrafts of the wind, the air ruffling his fur and leaving his human skin behind. He set his course for the west, allowing the sun and stars to guide him.

Before long, his prize would be ready. While he would have to wait thirty years for it to mature, it was still satisfying to know his salvation was within grasp. There would be no stopping him in reclaiming it now; no matter the price.

His soul would once again be his. He would fight Hell’s legions to reclaim it if he had to, setting his course for the North American continent. Little else mattered now, so long as he got it back.

Van Helsing had failed in his quest. His ancestor would belong to Dracula and give him what he so desperately craved at long last. Nothing would get in his way this time; not even death. He would possess his vitality at all costs.

Dracula had found it at long last. He had found the one.

The first of its kind. The only of its kind.

The female. The first female heir of Van Helsing’s legacy.

Her womb alone would restore his soul.

She would belong to him and he would have his revenge on her sire… even if it meant sacrificing her life.

Copyright ©️Maggie Lynn Heron-Heidel 2019

Hope you enjoyed this sneak peek! Here’s a little more about the series!

The Vampire’s Handmaiden: Watchmen of the Grail…

Only one thing matters: the reclamation of Dracula’s soul…

Her blood rights sold in return for her mother’s life, Yasmina Tolite longs to be free of living her life in the night. Bound forever in servitude to a vampire as his handmaiden, her virgin blood belongs to him alone until the day she dies. But when a new neighbor moves in next door and threatens to steal her heart, there’s nothing her vampiric master won’t do to keep her as his.

Between the arrival of Viscount Dracula and the discovery of Van Helsing’s long lost heir, one thing is for certain: the night has just begun.

Dracula’s salvation is at hand. The Holy Grail has been found.

Yasmina Van Helsing will rise. A Watchman has been born.

The Vampire’s Handmaiden is perfect for fans of vampires, were-wolves, were-cockatrices, the Holy Grail, and twisted tales of the undead. Proceed with caution, for the dark fantasy world of the supernatural is about to become yours…

Move out of the way Twilight, Dark Shadows, and the Vampire Diaries fans. The vampire hunters of the Grail are coming for you…

Editorial Review:

“Dang. I’m a writer more than a reader. I’m an editor more than an avid, willing reader. Heavy duty college courses as an English major all but ruined my zest for reading books. Plus, I am not intrigued with those trendy vampire stories. Well, that zest is back along with the intrigue with thanks to Author ML Heron-Heidel. I’ve fallen in love with some of her characters and I passionately want to snuff out some others. With my bare hands nonetheless. Then along comes the talent of their creator and I want to invite most of them into my home. Well, not entirely most. Some are not welcomed yet all live within my mind and heart. They will forever thanks to the talent of this writer. Her work is absolutely brilliant, captivating and never, ever repetitive. With the end of each piece I find myself longing to read more, to know the outcome, the happiness my favorite characters so deserve – and the justice the others’ misdeeds merit. Ah but my thirst is never quenched novel to novel. How absolutely brilliant this author is! I get hooked every single time and, you know what? I’m loving it.”

Available October 31st 2019 just in time for Halloween!

Click to preorder it here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07Z9QWT5N

Happy Nut Hunting Season!

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Happy Fall!

The kids may be back in school and the stores stocking up candy for Halloween, but that’s not how I know the season has come. At this time of year without fail, living out in the country, something always occurs. My husky starts his nut hunting.

Much like a human bobbing for apples, I wind up walking an eighty pound, nut hunting menace on a leash, diving for every acorn he sets eyes on. Mishka thinks he’s the doggie-squirrel version of of Top Gun, dive bombing and zig zagging in every which what direction as we walk, without warning and the stealth of an F18 after a target. And since acorns are potentially poisonous to dogs, I essentially wind up walking him like a hangman on a noose, keeping his head above the ground.

Ah, what a mother won’t do to keep their little one safe, practically forced into choking him on his collar so he won’t poison himself. Then again, this is the little ‘hero’ who managed to swallow a sock the within three days of getting home and threatening us with a potentially two thousand dollar vet bill before yacking it up again days later. Needless to say, no socks or acorns for Mishka ever again.

Anyway, after a terribly short Summer (too short in my opinion), I’m back from my hiatus. After recovering from surgery and taking a break from social media, I have returned. Tell me, did you miss me? As a thank you to you all for all your wonderful support during my illness, I managed to write four new books.

For Halloween, I have a new story for all my vampire lovers. While I’m not a huge fan of Halloween, I figured what better a time to publish a story with our favorite blood sucking undead? My readers enjoyed the Swan Princes so much that I thought another standalone fairy tale style story was in order.

For November, my Vaktare of All Realms series is finally coming out with the first three books! My Vaktare stories have taken over ten years to make it to print since inception, so I’m very excited to share them with you all. Shira was one of my first ever characters in my novels.

I’m looking for ARC readers for all four books, so if you’d be interested in reading them first before they’re released, all you have to do is let me know! Comment and say you want in!

Again, thank you so much for all your loving support. I couldn’t keep writing without you all.

Love and hugs,

Maggie Lynn and her fluffy nutcase Ser Mishka

P.S. He’s still sulking I wouldn’t let him poison himself. Oh well.

From Behind the Writers Desk: Slave to War – The Bonus Chapters

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Hello everyone!

Today I have a special behind the scenes look at some of the chapters that hit the cutting room floor in Slave to War. These are unedited and raw bits of the story that were cut for the sake flow of the story. I’ll be releasing three bonus chapters, so keep an eye out for chapters two and three!

So without further adieu, here’s the first deleted scene. It was one of my favorites that I wrote for Michael’s character, and is in Rain’s POV, but found it was unnecessary in the end for the final draft of the novel. So it hit the cutting room floor.

WARNING | SPOILER ALERT FOR ANYONE WHO HASN’T READ WAR MACHINE

OR SLAVE TO WAR

…

Much to my unease, Michael took me to the garden where his party had been. But this time he took me to an aviary in the way back I hadn’t spotted on my first fateful visit.

Once inside, I looked around with amazement. Long rows of branches held creatures regarding me with keen, shrewd eyes. Vultures, hawks, owls, and one enormous looking condor all regarded us with glittering eyes. These were all military-trained birds. I could see transmitters hanging up in the corners with cameras they fastened on their backs.

I felt myself grin. Master Rascorr had had a pet hawk and excelled in falconry. He allowed me to practice with it every day. I whistled in a low tone following a particular pattern that perhaps they would recognize if the trainer had taught them in the style Master and I had.

I couldn’t hear their calls, but I could see most of their mouths open and a great deal of wings spread as they chorused their calls back at me. Michael jumped and stared around wondrously. Owls were blinking at us, falcons bobbed their heads up and down, and the lone condor spread its enormous wings and screamed at me in defiance. It was unnatural for so many birds of prey to be in one place, so it seemed they had formed their own social hierarchy. The condor reigned supreme, probably by sheer size. It stared me down with a hiss, cocking its head. Its lack of a comb and red eyes told me it was a female.

All the other birds stilled as I stepped towards her. I whistled softly, extending my hand in a friendly gesture. I saw scars lining her head. Seeing an electrical collar around its neck I understood her reluctance though she had been trained. I looked around at all the others. They had collars, too. They were just like me: trapped and forced to obey.

She eyed me with distrust and I whistled again. She lowered her head after a minute and allowed me to scratch her head. I lowered my head next to her and whistled softly in an affectionate tone. She hissed at me again and I stroked the feathers along her back until she jiggled her feathers back and forth. I had hit the spot.

I turned back to Michael to see him nose to nose with an owl that had settled itself on his shoulder. He winced as its talons dug into his shoulder. I saw blood starting and rushed forward. I stuck my hand out and the owl snapped at it.

I looked back at Michael who seemed utterly terrified as it bore its enormous yellow eyes into his and screeched at him. “You don’t have food, do you?”

He stuck his hand in his pocket, pulled out a bag of jerky, and stuck it at me. I opened the bag and all yellow, orange, red, and black eyes turned on me. They all returned to their perches as I whistled a command. The owl screamed at me and did the same, leaving his shoulder. I tossed the condor the biggest piece and divided the rest.

I gave a few to Michael and gestured he should give it a try, too, in particular to feed the owl. It was still eyeing him with interest. He tossed the piece at it and it caught it with a snap. It called at him, bobbing its head and twisting it around so it was upside down. Finally he cracked a smile and cooed back at it. The owl screeched at him for more. He jumped back with a start.

For the first time in months, I really laughed. And boy did it hurt. It turned into a coughing fit real fast as the scar where my vocal cords should have been stretched. It really didn’t feel good, but they didn’t rip. That was good. It meant they had healed even if it was badly. I probably sounded like a chain smoker laughing.

I shrugged off Michael’s concerned hand and ventured further into the building realizing it wasn’t just an aviary. It housed a lot more than just birds.

Through another door, I entered a dark room. A red light flicked on for me to see ruby eyes gleaming back at me. A breeze whipped around my hair as wings flapped around me. I stumbled back as a cold nose sniffed along my neck. I came eye to eye with an upside down brown head and enormous black eyes. It was a giant fruit bat. It probably was looking for its food. More eyes from all corners blinked open at me.

The room after the next was the best, though. It was a large enclosure that held a weird assortment. Two wolves, a black leopard, a cheetah, a brown bear, and panda all eyed me. They were in a cluster together except for the panther which paced its end of the cage restlessly. I gathered they had been raised together and had adapted to each other’s presences as the birds of prey had.

I looked at the electrical prod hanging in the corner and ignored it. I sat down on the opposite wall pretending I had no interest in them. The door to my left opened again and Michael stepped through, fighting off what appeared to be one of the giant fruit bats trying to get into his pocket. He threw in what looked like a bag of candies and slammed the door shut.

When he turned to face this room, I think he had a near coronary. He gripped the handle of the room with too much force and slammed his back into the wall. His wild eyes found me on the floor and started saying something out loud. I rolled my eyes, patting the floor. He looked at me as if I had sprouted a third head.

I shrugged. The panda was sauntering toward us, sniffing the air. Behind it was the brown bear. The others watched to see what we would do. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Sure,” he signed with sarcasm as the panda came over and plopped in front of him. He waved at it weakly. To his and my intense surprise, it waved its paw back before rolling over on its side. The brown bear growled, already bored, and sat down behind it.

“It’s hard to believe Emperor Huang domesticated pandas and used them to defeat Emperor Yan 4000 years ago. They aren’t very intimidating.”

“I can believe it,” he signed, sitting beside me. “All I see are rows of razor sharp teeth. I think the army had the same idea. But it got too expensive so my father took on the care of the menagerie. He likes having the bragging rights to his own private zoo.”

He stopped as curiosity got to the others. The Leopard and wolves hung back, but the cheetah came over with a chirrup. I couldn’t hear it, but I remembered the call from the visit to the zoo as a child with Master and Dantenn. I whistled the birdlike call back and it came forward with a purr. It sank down next to my side, rubbing its head against my arm. I stroked its ears as it nipped at my hand playfully.

Michael stayed with his knees curled up to his chest. The other animals ignored us and the leopard went back to pacing at its end of the cage. The wolves watched with pricked ears. I was disgusted to see all of these animals too bore scars and collars.

Michael nodded, venturing to put his hand out for the cheetah to sniff. “I brought you here to talk without prying ears. I wanted to discuss what may happen tonight.”

He looked at me then. Bitter loathing for his father warred with the warmth for me in his eyes. “Sorry he’s attempting to force you to marry me. I’m not sure how he’s going to work this considering you’re still supposedly still hitched to Cain.”

I sighed. “There are worse things than being married to your best friend.“

He squeezed my hand. “Yes, but if you were going to marry me I’d want it to be on our terms. I have no aversion to marriage; in fact I rather like the idea of binding oneself to the one you love for eternity.”

His eyes held such warmth and affection that I gulped. I felt like I was cheating on Cain it was so strong a connection. He drew me to him then, like he hadn’t dared do before, resting his head on my shoulder and stroking my hair. We stayed like that for a while. He just held me like there was nothing on the planet he wanted to do more and perhaps that was true. I felt for him, I really did. We were just two broken souls that the world had spat out years ago. But we had saved that world together despite what it had done to us and now it had turned on us once more. But we still had each other.

“If I weren’t too young would you consider me being with me?” he asked suddenly, pulling back just far enough so I could see his hand but not far enough so I was out of his embrace. I didn’t reply. “If you had never met Cain, would it be a different answer?”

The questions were getting more difficult. “I don’t think you’d like me very much if I hadn’t. I am a killer, Michael. Never forget that.”

I felt him suck in a breath. “But you wouldn’t be if it weren’t necessary, right?”

I reflected on that for a second. “If there were no more evil in the world, I suppose would find myself without a purpose. There would be no use for my skills to defend those I love-“

“But you do love,” he insisted. “That is the difference. Evil is most often defined as a lack of love. I know evil. It is my father. He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t love anybody, which is why he ripped me from my mother’s arms as she died from childbirth. I’m just an heir so he’ll have a legacy when he dies.”

I bowed my head. “I’m sorry about your mother. She must have loved you.”

“She did. The doctors told her she wouldn’t survive if she had me. My father tried to stop her and blames me for her death. That’s why he hates me so much. But she insisted to carry me full term. Sometimes I wish she hadn’t. She would still be alive then.”

I gasped at that statement. That rivaled even my way of toxic thinking. He was wishing himself away. “Don’t belittle her sacrifice with those thoughts. Do something with your life. You are valued-“

“Am I? If I died, my funeral would be a show for my father to profit off of.“

“But I would grieve,” my hands said.

He looked down at me with sad eyes. “Yeah, and you would run to Cain for comfort.” He shook his head and glanced at his watch. “We have to go. Father will be looking for us soon. After tonight, I doubt we’ll be spending much time together-” I started to protest – “Alone, that is.“

I stood with what I’m sure was a fierce expression. “I’m not leaving without you. Remember that.”

He stood and nodded, still thoroughly unhappy looking. He didn’t release my hand as we went back to reality, leaving our little piece of solitude behind.

– Copyright 2018 Maggie Lynn Heron-Heidel

Thanks for reading! Make sure to leave a comment on what you thought of this scene! And if you haven’t read Slave to War, make sure to pick up a copy here!

Keep an eye out for bonus chapters two and three in the next few days!

The World of Destiny in the Shadows – A Map

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Who knew that making a map of a dystopian science fiction world would be so time consuming? Plotting Nacin, Mercaine, and MoiRai on a map was difficult, but I finally got it done for you all!

Make sure to check out Slave to War to continue where War Machine left off in the epic cliffhanger! It’s now available on Amazon here!