Whispers on the Wind Stuff

News: December 30th, I have been working tirelessly on Chapter 2 of Whispers on the Wind with my lovely beta ElvenVamp! And I am so pleased at the results. I have done so much historical research for this story! I hope to have chapter 2 posted for you by tomorrow night but meanwhile I would like to introduce those of you to this story who have not had the opportunity to check it out yet. I think it’s my new favorite and I really hope you will like it too. It will have an old world feel to it that is sure to be different and exciting! You can currently read the prologue which is available on this website.   Summary: Sookie accidentally uses her fae magic to try and save Godric on the rooftop in Dallas. But something goes terribly wrong and they are hurtled back in time 2000 years. Sookie must find a way to free him from his bondage as he relives his slavery under a sadistic Roman vampire. Learn about Godric’s past and join him as he rediscovers his humanity and falls in love with the woman who gave him a new beginning. Introducing famous vampires you may have heard of, historical figures from this era, and unique OC’s. Read Prologue Here Chapter 2: Forgotten Memories (Teaser) Word Count: 4,520 Screams. Piercing screams of a female rang out shrewdly as the noise broke the silence of the domus, the place where I had lived out my last human years so long ago, and subsequently my early vampire years. A young woman, no older than twenty years, emerged into the atrium where I had been commanded to wait by my former and sadly now, current Master. The deplorable vampire’s blood tainted my human veins, ultimately preventing my escape. With these cries, my deep thoughts and calculations had been interrupted as I gazed at the star dusted heavens through the large rectangular compluvium in the ceiling. Tears streaked down her face as she scrambled across the large room, the focal point of the domus. Her crystal-blue colored eyes locked on to mine, wide with desperation and driven by the instinct for survival. She gathered the skirt of her tattered robes in her hands, lifting the hem slightly so she could swiftly make her way to me. I turned away from her with a heavy heart that now beat rhythmically in my chest as I cast my eyes downward in shame. There was nothing I could do for her. I vaguely remembered witnessing such atrocities on numerous occasions during this chapter of my life. So much so, that my compassion had become hardened by it, hardened for my own need to survive, which had served me well during this dark time. “Godric,” she sobbed desperately with a Gaulish accent. My eyes widened in surprise, for it had been so long since the sweet melody of my native tongue graced my ears. I did not remember this woman, yet she knew my name. I turned back to her with a look of pity on my face, however it was soon replaced by awe and wonder as thoughts from my human life, lost in the ocean of time, conjured up long forgotten memories.

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