The
Cowboy and the Vampire: The Last Sunset
The
Cowboy and the Vampire Collection Book Four
Clark
Hays and Kathleen McFall
Genre:
Horror, Western, PNR
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.
Tour
giveaway
1
set of author-signed copies of the full four-book collection
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