Description Hawkesmoor: Novel of Vampire & Faerie by Anne Merino
Vampires, Romance and dark Celtic Mysticism fuse and blaze in this epic tale set in Manhattan, Yorkshire, England — and time itself. Robin Dashwood, a handsome and charming British vampire with long gone aristocratic connections, is about to be thrown into an epic adventure that will shine light upon the rise of the vampire. This is the last thing he could imagine himself doing. Robin prefers to hide in plain sight, having devised a quiet life for himself in New York as a history professor in hopes of avoiding other more powerful vampires and their dangerous, decadent political machinations. A chance encounter in a Manhattan art gallery introduces him to the beautiful Lady Caroline DeBarry and reveals a vicious murder from Robin’s human past. In search of answers to this historical mystery, he returns home to England and to Caroline who has captured his heart. As Robin uncovers the truth, he finds traces of a far more ancient and shrouded realm than even that of the vampire. This will shake the foundations of vampire lore and its brutal hierarchy, placing Lady Caroline in terrible danger and setting in motion events that will lead to a final bloody confrontation between a revenant army and humankind. Hawkesmoor is the first book in a trilogy that will continue the eerie adventures of Robin Dashwood — a very British vampire.Advance Praise Hawkesmoor: Novel of Vampire & Faerie by Anne Merino
“The paranormal features are refreshingly unconventional and well handled. Fans of romantic fantasy will be interested to see where the series goes.”- Publisher’s WeeklyKate would be furious. He was over an hour late.
It had taken some time to repair the damage after he had dumped the unfortunate taxi driver in a convenient alleyway. The crisp white shirt had been drenched with blood so he had made a stop at Barney’s to fetch a suitable substitute. A mind-boggling feat made considerably easier by one of his vampire traits.
Like humans, vampires possessed different attributes and individual talents. These could include mental telepathy, simple matter transformations, aerial abilities, tracking specific victims by molecule, short and long distance teleportation. Robin knew there were vampires of enormous personal powers throughout the world although he was not one of them. Those creatures not only came equipped with great natural abilities but also cultivated others with meticulous care. Robin had no desire to become a vampire king. He was content to quietly avoid human detection and survive.
After the kill, Robin had become a shade. It was the most important skill in his almost non-existent arsenal. He literally could will himself to evaporate and become one with the air. Humans could not see him although animals and some true psychics could sense him. In such a state, Robin could move swiftly and silently through human environments. This time, his shade had joined the shoppers in the busy aisles of Barney’s, selected a clean shirt and made good his escape.
It had also taken him some time to summon enough courage to approach the guarded entrance to the Glockner Gallery. He was desperately afraid of what he would find there — a few of his former possessions, perhaps. The chance to touch one or two of them scanning for any trace lingering of his father or maybe even Elizabeth. Then there was the real possibility of learning what happened to all of them. A truth he had avoided learning for three hundred years. It hadn’t been difficult to hide from the impact his disappearance had made to the people he loved. No historians particularly cared what happened so long ago in a remote Northern Earldom. Nobody cared any more what happened to his family and to his betrothed. He could pretend whatever he liked about them all — devise pleasant stories about how they went on about their lives without him.
But now, the reality might suddenly jump out at him from any corner of the exhibition.
Both anxious and exhilarated, he passed through the invitation-only checkpoint. The essence of the cabdriver had strengthened him. He was forced to admit that higher quality blood really did improve his physical state.
But a massive wave of homesickness swept over him as he stepped into the Glockner’s exhibition hall. The temporary exhibit had been shrewdly fashioned with wonderfully painted flats, huge historical photographs and lavish flat screens with virtual tours of the actual castle. It was an eerie doppelganger of his Hawkesmoor. Frozen, and unable to take another step closer until he could absorb the shock, Robin saw a small collection of Hawkesmoor’s more important furniture, paintings, tapestries and silver scattered about the surreal set. Even at a distance, he registered the regal presence of the six Venetian walnut parcel-gilt armchairs by Brustolon his mother had been so fond of. One of the Irish Waterford chandeliers from the state dining room. The Queen Anne state bed, along with its magnificent gilt wood suite of furniture. The Magadeline Feline silver Chapel Communion Service his father had commissioned to celebrate the birth of a son. And all the paintings of Hawkesmoor’s noble residents.
“Mother,” said Robin moving forward, almost breaking into a run.
He edged around the tightly knit groups of socialites milling about his possessions as they drank champagne and nattered about opera guilds or the horse show in the Hamptons. It was hanging over a plaster recreation of the green drawing room’s Carrara marble fireplace. The really splendid Jonathan Richardson painting of his mother. Augusta, the sixth Countess of Hawkesmoor. She gazed down at him with a kind smile, more than a hint of her famous sense of merriment playing across her large green eyes.
“Mother,” Robin repeated softly. His throat constricted painfully.
She was so peaceful, so content. She seemed to be saying to him, “We are all up here. All our pain and troubles long forgotten but where are you? Where are you?”
“The table with inlaid stones is just incredible,” said a woman behind him in the Connecticut drawl favored by high society goddesses who lunched at the Four Seasons and Le Bernadin. “Sent to the castle from the Doge. We really must get back to Venice this year.”
Robin turned his head slightly, taking quick note of a sleek Manhattan matron exquisitely turned out in Chanel couture and shimmering diamonds. He wiped away a tear that had suddenly spilled from his right eye. His mother might have liked her elegant 21st century counterpart.
“It’s that girl in red that fascinates me,” replied the woman’s male companion, radiating vast wealth in a bespoke suit of merino wool, cashmere and silk. “Clearly a lady of sensitivity and breeding.”
“Elizabeth, seventh Countess of Hawkesmoor,” she sighed. “What a romantic name.”
Robin felt the words enter his brain with an electric jolt that shook his entire frame. He spun around. Directly across the room was an immense full-length painting of Elizabeth — his Elizabeth.
It just wasn’t possible. They had never married. He had disappeared the night of their betrothal ball. How could she be the seventh Countess?
Robin felt he had almost locked gazes with Elizabeth’s painted eyes as he strode across the crowded hall. She was never so wan, he thought as he neared the massive portrait. Even her wonderful tawny hair seemed to have been stripped of its burnished gold. Elizabeth’s naturally waving hair had been the bane of her lady’s maid. It refused to be tamed by ribbons and pins, escaping all modish coifs to tumble haphazardly down her back. This Elizabeth, thin and serious, was drowning in an elaborate red velvet riding habit. She stood in quiet dignity, her oval face averted as if she were taken aback at all the strange modern people who stared up at her. The lush Acadian meadows behind Elizabeth’s wasted frame was supposed to represent Hawkesmoor’s prosperous farmlands.
Ha! thought Robin. If they only knew how desolate and wild Hawkesmoor country really was.
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Hawkesmoor: Novel of Vampire & Faerie by Anne Merino
Review by Nora S.
“Robin Dashwood was so beautiful. His dark green eyes seemed to drink her in as if she was a glass of sacramental wine. It was unnerving and exciting.” Lady Caroline DeBarry has her work cut out for her. As one of the last people left alive to defend her family's estate, Hawkesmoor, Caroline knows that there is a chance that her ancestral legacy is headed for ruin. Caroline lives in New York and runs the Glockner Gallery, a gallery that contains much of Hawkesmoor's antique furniture and paintings. This display draws in many New Yorkers and, among them, the mysterious and handsome Robin Dashwood, a man who intrigues Caroline immediately. Of course, what Caroline doesn't realize is that Robin Dashwood used to live in Hawkesmoor, too, and that his family lived there a long, long time before hers. Robin is a vampire, several hundred years old and the former Earl of Hawkesmoor, who disappeared under mysterious circumstances.
He is now a college professor living in New York, who accidentally attends a showing of the Hawkesmoor furniture and feels guilty when he realizes that he left his family to fend for themselves. After his disappearance, his former fiancée, Elizabeth was wed to his alcoholic cousin and soon afterward, she died suddenly from a fall. Now, Robin suspects that Elizabeth may have been murdered, and he is determined to return to Hawkesmoor and find out the truth.
This was a novel unlike any other I've read, and I have read a lot of vampire books. 'Hawkesmoor' had a lot of sexy sophistication and delicious atmosphere. I absolutely loved the chemistry between Robin and Caroline and I couldn't wait to find out what happened next as I was reading. Anne Merino really nailed the mood of a paranormal romance and a vampire story. I would love to read more by her and I hope she continues this as a series. I give it 5 stars.
About Anne Merino
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Thanks so much for hosting!
ReplyDeleteYou are welcome Teddy Rose. Good luck to the author!
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