Solomon’s
Sieve, Book 7 (Knights of Black Swan)
Named Best Paranormal Romance
Series of 2013 by REVIEWERS’ CHOICE AWARDS (Paranormal Romance Guild).
Nominated for Best Paranormal
Romance Series of 2014 IRC READERS CHOICE AWARDS – Voting in September.
Victoria Danann is also up for Author of the Year.
When Sovereign Solomon Nemamiah lay dying on a beach
under an overturned vehicle with his fiancé helplessly sobbing next to him, he
made a vow to himself that he would refuse to stay in some arbitrary
afterlife. He silently promised to return and finish what he
started with The Order of the Black Swan and the love of his
life. When the new Sovereign of Jefferson Unit begins saying
and doing things that remind people of Sol, it raises suspicion
in the minds of people who were closest to him.
The mutated and more aggressive strain of vampire
virus surges back to the forefront of The Order’s priorities forcing retirees
to be recalled and trainees to be inducted earlier than ever before.
Meanwhile, The Order sends Z Team with its
newest member, Glendennon Catch, to escort new recruit, Dr. Mercedes
Renaux, to Bulgaria. Her mission is to shut down and investigate
an archeological site that may contain irrefutable evidence that vampire
exist. Their mission is to protect her.
OFFICIAL RELEASE DATE: May 27
PUBLISHER: 7th House (Imprint of Andromeda LLC)
90,000 words
E-BOOK RETAILERS: Amazon, B&N, iTunes, Smashwords, and KOBO
TWITTER: @vdanann
EXCERPT #1
Kay gave Storm an amused look. “In some ways this feels
more familiar than watching TV with my wife. ”
They were separating from Ram and Rev, going
opposite ways in an alley. Storm looked back over his shoulder at Ram
and Rev walking away. On a whim he called out, “Sol!” Without hesitation, Rev
turned and said, “Yeah?”
The four of them stood frozen, Storm and Rev staring at
each other, Kay and Ram looking back and forth between the two. Let it never be
said that Ram didn’t know how to handle a situation delicately. “What the fuck,
Stormy?”
“You know, that’s a good question, Ram. And well put.”
Storm didn’t take his eyes off Rev.
“Something you want to tell us.”
Rev pursed his lips before growling. “No.”
“You sure?”
“You gone hard of hearing?”
Storm’s gaze was a concentrated challenge, pinning Rev in
place, but he moved in close enough for quiet conversation.
“How about clueing us in, brother,” Kay was as calm as
the eye of a hurricane as he nudged Storm. “What’s going on here?”
“Has it seemed to you that there are things about the new
Sovereign that seem familiar? Eerily so?”
“Like what?” Ram asked as he eyed Rev from top to
bottom.
“Oh, like the fact that he smokes the same brand of
Turkish cigars that Sol used to smoke. And lights them with an old school fluid
lighter. Then he puts the lighter down in front of him and turns it around and
around the same way Sol used to.” Kay turned his attention toward Rev and
began regarding him with increased interest. “How about the way he screws
up his mouth when he’s aggravated or the way he steeples his fingers when he’s
making a decision?”
Rev lifted his chin in defiance and narrowed his
eyes at Storm. “And let’s not forget the fact that he took a bead on Farnsworth
about thirty seconds after arriving Jefferson Unit. Doesn’t it strike you as a
little strange that he handles Sol’s job like he knows what he’s doing? No. Not
like he knows what he’s doing. Like he’s done it before!”
Ram eased around in front of Rev so that the three
veteran members of B Team appeared united as the inquisitors they had just
become. They stood in a dimly lit alley with accusation hanging in the air,
waiting for Rev to answer.
“Your imagination’s just got the better of you, Sir
Storm.”
“There! Right there. I never met another knight who
called me Sir Storm. But Sol did.” Storm glanced at Kay. “All the time.
Called me Mr. Storm when I was a kid. Switched to Sir Storm when I was
inducted.” He stepped closer to Rev. “When I called Sol’s name, you turned
around like you’d been answering to that name your whole life.”
Ram and Kay were giving Rev looks that said the
questions weren’t going to go away just by staring Storm down.
Finally Rev replied with the cool of an iceberg.
“So what are you saying? Exactly? That I’m a body
snatcher?”
“What I’m doing right now is asking questions.”
“I don’t have answers for you.”
“NO!” Rev’s answer was a little too forceful and a little
too quick.
“Start talking.” Rev blew out a breath and
looked around at the alley.
”Let’s go sit down somewhere private.” He ran a hand
through his hair. “I’ll buy a round of drinks and tell you a story. Not about
me mind you. A story about a guy I heard of.”
EXCERPT #2
When the big day came, Sol borrowed Storm’s silver
convertible Porche roadster. Storm had never driven it to California because he
didn’t need it there. It had been parked in the underground at J.U. for months
without use, but it turned over when Sol pressed the ignition. There were two
seats in the car and not much room in the trunk, but most of what Farnsworth
would want and need was already at her cottage. It was too cold to put the top
down, but convertibles are romantic even when the tops are up, wind noise and
all. They have a way of making a vehicle’s occupants feel young. And sexy.
On the trip down they chatted easily about places where
they’d been, people they knew in common, and bucket list items even though it
was still early in life for them to be composing bucket lists. When they were
twenty minutes away, they made a grocery stop at the last supermarket en route.
They bought more than the space left in the trunk, but Farnsworth was a good
sport and laughed about sharing the passenger seat with one of Sol’s duffels
between her legs. It was cool but sunny when they arrived and the March wind
was doing its reputation proud. Sol pulled the car underneath the house between
thick weathered support pillars. There was a store room and guest room next to
the carport, but the two floors she used as real living space began twelve feet
above ground level. He carried groceries and bags up the stairs while she
opened up the house. That involved engaging the motorized storm shutters,
lighting the pilot and turning on the heat plus her favorite part of the ritual
– affixing a unicorn flag to its holder on the deck.
“There,” she said turning toward Sol with a grin. “Now
we’re officially in residence.”
He stared at the flag for a minute. “A unicorn?”
She laughed. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
It was a blue and white unicorn on a light gray
background. And it was beautiful. As unicorns go it was dignified with a fine
proud head, flying mane and long elecorn.
“I guess.” His scowl was more obligatory than sincere,
lip service to the code of macho. Using an armload of logs from the half cord
of firewood on the deck, Sol built a fire to warm up the cottage while they
were waiting for the small gas furnace to do its job. When everything was put
away, they drank a glass of wine and made love in front of the fire on a white
rag rug that was so thick it felt like a pallet. When Sol had assured her that
he had the resources to take her anywhere she wanted to go, she had immediately
formed images of having him in her house. And, once that vision had taken root,
it appealed to her more than anything else she could think of. Farnsworth was
so accustomed to relaxing at the cottage and letting work stress dissolve away
that her nervous system responded to the environment automatically and put her
in getaway mode. Sol, on the other hand, had muscles that were knots on top of
knots on top of knots. If he had ever known how to relax, it had been decades
in the past and, certainly, the idea of “vacation” was foreign to his nervous
system. So he fidgeted and paced and suggested things to go and do. She sat
watching him, casually sipping chardonnay, in a yellow cable sweater the same
cheerful color as the cottage.
“Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” she said.
He stopped abruptly, his gaze going toward the ocean. “A
walk on the beach?” He looked and sounded as if he’d never heard of such a
thing.
“Um-hmmm.”
“What for?” She chuckled and shook her head. “Just
because. Go put on enough layers to keep you toasty and we’ll go see what there
is to see.” He looked dubious. “Come on. It’ll be fun. I promise.”
“You promise?” His face split into a grin.
“I do.” He swore he liked the sound of that, but he would
have also sworn that he would hate walking on the beach. Maybe that would have
been true under other circumstances, but doing things with Farnsworth just made
them different.
She had a way of transforming ordinary experiences into
extraordinary events, simply by virtue of being there. She taught him to like
walking on the beach by changing his perspective. She pointed out sights like
little birds that ran on the sand so fast you almost couldn’t see their skinny
little legs and little crabs that ran out of holes on some unseen errand and
then retreated to safety just as fast. Now and then she’d point to the remains
of a seashell and tell him what kind it was. Through her eyes his consciousness
was raised to appreciate the way sunlight dances on water, the way the color of
the ocean changes to try and match the color of the sky, the way brightly
colored windsocks whip in the wind against a blue sky background and make the
whole world feel festive. He began to see through her eyes, hear through her
ears, feel her sensations, and little by little, day by day, the layers of
tension fell away and she saw, for the first time, what his face looked like
when the muscles were lax and not held rigid as steel.
One day he picked up a stick and threw it for a retriever
someone was walking on the beach. When he turned back to her with a laugh and a
glorious heart stopping grin she said, “Solomon. You’re so lovely when you let
go.”
His grin resolved into a smile. “Lovely? If you say so.”
“I do.” He liked the sound of that every time he heard
it.
“I was just aiming for nice looking. Did I overshoot?”
She laughed. “Indeed you did. By fathoms.”
“I think I’m keeping you.“ He pulled her into a kiss that
was far too passionate for a beach they shared with passersby. She thought
about pulling away, was sure that pulling away was the appropriate thing to do,
but her body was making the case that life was too short for propriety. So she
returned his kiss with enough fervor to make sure he knew she meant it.
The days melted away into the closest thing to pure
happiness that Sol had ever known. He didn’t remember feeling that happy or
carefree even in childhood. And that was the state of his euphoria when the
call came that he was needed at Headquarters immediately. The furrows in his
brow reappeared instantly, the lines around his eyes were deeper, and the smile
that had become perpetual disappeared.
She nodded as he promised to come right back if he could.
He gave her the keys to Storm’s roadster and a soft, lingering kiss goodbye.
When he reached the end of the deck he turned back once to see her watching
from inside the glass door. She waved and his heart responded with a reluctance
to go. He’d never before had a hard time with the call of duty and he cursed
under a heavy sigh when he confronted just how much he didn’t want to leave her
or that place. He would have given just about anything to stay right where he
was.
But he didn’t.
EXCERPT #3
“Well, I’m scheduled to patrol with B Team tonight. I was
hoping you could get a babysitter and…”
“Yes. We’ll do it.”
Ram looked at her like he didn’t know her. “Do you no’
think we should talk it over just the two of us?”
“Normally yes, but I’ve given this a lot of thought. I
was going to bring it up after my patrol tonight when you’d had a chance to
find out how hard it is to sit home and not know what’s going on. This
latest crisis has jus moved my schedule ahead by a day.”
“Your schedule,” Ram repeated drily. “I was actually
goin’ to have a talk with you today and let you know that I’m goin’ out
tonight instead of you. I am no’ likin’ the idea of my child’s mother in the
field. Particularly no’ in light of the way these new biters are behavin’.”
Elora gaped at him and Ram knew the flush in her cheeks
was never a sign that an argument was going his way. “You mean you were
planning to make me fight my way onto B Team a second time?” She
outraged-whispered so as not to wake Helm. “As for ‘badly
behaving biters’, that’s exactly the point I was going to make and my
practical demonstration couldn’t be more apropos to your phrasing.”
“What demonstration?”
“You know how Helm is going through a biting phase?”
Elora turned to Rev to catch him up with a summary.
“When the baby doesn’t get
what he wants when he wants it, sometimes he turns red in the face, screams,
and bites like a little pit bull. Three days ago he bit Ram on the shoulder.”
She turned to Ram, who was wearing a gray metal band tee. “Come on. Show our
guest how it looks after three days.”
Ram hesitated for a couple of seconds, eyeing her in
challenge, but finally acquiesced and pulled the short sleeve up above his
shoulder to reveal the bite mark . It was ugly. Helm had made a mold of his
teeth out of his Daddy’s flesh. It was bruised all around and had the red
telltale signs of beginning infection.
“Your baby did that?” Rev asked incredulously.
Ram nodded.
“It looks worse, Ram. When we’re done here, you’re going
to go down to clinic and get a shot of antibiotic.” Elora continued. “But back
to my demonstration. Tonight, right here in this very high chair,” she pointed
to the chair for dramatic effect, “the child threw a similar tantrum
- which had Hawking stamped all over it, by the way - and he bit the
bejuices out my forearm.”
She then pulled up her sleeve and turned her arm over so
they could see that, from any and every angle, there was no sign she’d been
touched.
Ram grabbed her arm and gave it a close inspection and
then insisted on doing the same with the other arm. When he was satisfied with
the inspection, he shrugged. “So you’re a fast healer.”
“No. The point goes much deeper than that. It’s not that
Helm bit me and I recovered quickly. It’s that he didn’t do any damage to begin
with. Unless you count the fact that I think less of him and question his
love.”
Ignoring that last part, Ram said, “So you’re tryin’ to
say you can no’ be hurt?” He made a rude noise.
“Talkin’ to the wrong
person, dearie. You’re forgettin’ that I happened to be there when we almost
lost you to vampire bites. Made a righteous mess of that beautiful body if
I’m recallin’ correctly.”
“I’m not forgetting that. But you’re forgetting
that, number one, I wasn’t out with a team. I was alone. And number two, I
wasn’t taken down by vampire. It was a fellow knight, which is why I
didn’t see it coming.” Ram responded by slumping down in his chair and starting
to thump a nervous rhythm on the table with his hand. “Don’t you see, Ram,
if I’m on patrol, I can protect you and Kay and Storm. That’s why I wanted to
be a knight to begin with.”
Ram sighed deeply. He was going to give in for all the
same reasons he had given in the first time. “That’s why you wanted to be a
knight?”
“Rammel, if something happened to you, I would never
forgive you because I would always know that I might have prevented it if I’d
been there. I owe that to you, to me, to Helm, and to B Team.”
“Are you plannin’ to play every card in your deck?”
Elora raised her chin and smiled. “I’m not playing, Ram.
I’m standing by my man.”
“You know there’s a reason why Great Paddy never
married.”
Elora cocked her head and looked at Ram thoughtfully.
“You do know there’s no Great Paddy, don’t you, Ram?”
“What do you mean?”
Rev interjected. “If this is settled, I need to go throw
a couple of things in a bag.”
