Love Begins in Hell (The Moon Journals: Part 1) by Ally Thomas Page B

you have met in the Vampire from Hell series appear in this new series.
     

Excerpt from “The Vampire from Hell (Part 1) – The Beginning”
     
    Prologue
    It's almost sunset and I have decided to stop at a coffee shop and try to get an internet connection on my laptop.  No, I don't drink coffee.  I just like the smell of it.  I'm more concerned with getting my thoughts written down before I go hunting tonight.  I think it's time the world knows.
    To start with, I should tell you that I'm a daughter of Satan, and I'm a vampire.  But I'm not your average, run-of-the-mill vampire.  It's kind of complicated.  Please don't let any of that alarm you.  I'm on your side.
    Currently, Father and I aren't speaking.  Why?  He'd soon kill me as to look at me.  No, I'm not his favorite child.  I'm the one who likes humans, the rebel, the loner, the deserter.  And I suspect after I start publishing my story on this blog - what I'm about to tell you now - he's going to be pissed.  And that's okay.  I'm not going to run anymore.  I'm tired of being afraid of Lucifer, my father who thinks torture is an acceptable form of motivation.  Those days are over.  So sit back, relax, and let me tell you about how I became the first, and to my knowledge, the only vampire from Hell.
    The Beginning
    As I unlocked my office door, I felt a presence behind me.  I turned around slowly.  A tall figure emerged from the shadows and I flinched.  I cursed myself for the frightened reaction I made.
    Gazing down at me with shining gold eyes, my seven-foot hellhound touched my shoulder with his long paw.
    Because I couldn’t understand Blick’s low canine mutter, I had grown accustomed to his speaking telepathically to me.  On occasion, it allowed us to communicate without others overhearing us.  His thoughts leaping into my mind were an extension of my own, and I rarely objected to having them flow through my head.
    “Did I scare you?”
    “No,” I lied.  “I couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to get an early start on those reports.”  I entered the office, waiting for him to duck his head in through the opening.  To a passerby, it looked as though I was talking to myself in front of my animal companion, but I didn’t care.  Blick knew I typically answered him by speaking aloud.
    “Thanks again for your help at the processing center last night.  Can you get the reports done today?”
    “I think so.”  I deposited my satchel on the desk and rubbed my shoulder.
    “Did I hurt you?”
    “No, I reinjured it the other day.  It’ll be okay.”
    Irritated with my response, Blick grabbed my arm and pulled up the sleeve of my black leather jacket, pointing at fresh bruises.
    I winced in pain and stared at the floor.
    Gently, he gathered me up in his arms and held me.
    I wept, recalling the earlier session with my father.  His way of discipline often involved torture.  In the organization, Father enjoyed a “hands-on” approach.  When anyone did something he disapproved of or he felt he could improve their skills, he’d perform the customary routine.  For his daughters, he called it “loving his children.”  As demons, he wanted us to be strong and fearless.  I was very familiar with the process because, unlike my sister, Stephanie, I rarely did anything right, and to make matters worse, I wasn’t a strong demon.
    Blick reminded me with his embrace how he wished to protect me.  I knew the beatings were becoming more frequent, but I felt powerless to stop them.
    I regained my composure while Blick wiped away my tears and patted me on the head like I was his little pet, instead of his being mine.  Having a seven-foot hellhound fussing over me - literally - was wonderful.  I was lucky to have him on my side.
    When Blick had been a young pup, he had followed me home from the river one day.  I kept him hidden from everyone until he started walking upright and grew too big for me to hide.  When Father found out I had him,