Blog tour: The Lazarus Child

Welcome to the blog tour for The Lazarus Child - Blood Riders Book 3 by Jay Raven! Today I am sharing with you an extract from the book. If you’re impatient to read, scroll down!

More about the book…

To save his missing daughter a distraught slayer must venture deep into the heart of darkness

Legendary vampire hunter Anton Yoska is on the edge, tormented by the rumour that the precious child he once thought dead is still alive and lost in a world of monsters.

One creature alone knows for sure what happened to Gretchen, but Terek Modjeski won’t divulge his secret - revelling in the twisted power over his long-time foe.

Despairing and drinking heavily, Anton stumbles from near disaster to near disaster as he puts his team in jeopardy, testing their friendship and loyalty to snapping point.

Only one diabolical solution is possible - to confront Terek in his maximum security cell and force the bloodsucker to end his game of cat and mouse. But making the cunning infernal talk will mean employing brutal methods that go against every code Anton has ever lived by, forcing him to become as much of a demon as the leeches he hunts.

Face to face with the evil, taunting vampire, the desperate slayer takes a decision that will change his destiny forever - sending him hurtling into danger to confront a terrifying truth about his lost child that risks not only his sanity but the future of mankind.

More about the author…

Jay Raven is the author of Gothic chillers and historical horror reminding readers that the past is a dangerous place to venture, full of monsters and murderous men. He blames his fascination with vampires, witches and werewolves on the Hammer Horror films he watched as a teenager, but living in a creepy old house on the edge of a 500-acre wood may have something to do with it.

Last but not least, the extract you’ve been waiting for…

[In this extract, vampire slayer Anton Yoska is paying a surprise visit to his arch nemesis Terek Modjeski held captive in a bleak and forbidding maximum security prison.]

 Grudgingly, the warder picked up the keys and, collecting an oil lantern, lit the wick inside. Silently, he led Anton down the main corridor and through a warren of side passageways, unlocking a gate at the end of each section, before venturing up a series of slimy steps to come to a halt outside a three-inch-thick, grey, reinforced door, equipped with a deep peephole.

“Want me to stay with you?” his guide offered insincerely, triggering the mechanism and pushing the solid steel screen inwards. “You can’t be too careful with these bastard leeches, even when they’ve had the fight knocked out of them.”

That wouldn’t be necessary, Anton said, declaring that he was more than experienced enough to cope. “But you can leave me the lamp.”

The man wasn’t happy. “If you say so,” he responded, passing over the lantern reluctantly before locking Anton in and shuffling back the way he’d come, touching the walls to navigate in the impenetrable darkness.

Waiting until the footsteps diminished, Anton edged inside, clasping the light at arm’s length.

The flickering radiance filled every inch of the cramped cell, forcing its way greedily into every corner and crevasse.

A growl erupted; the manacled shape at the far wall, unfolding, head rising, a pale porcelain-white hand shielding its watering eyes.

“Put it out. It hurts. Put it out,” a whining voice squawked.

Anton had no intention of obliging.

“The pain will pass as soon as your eyes adjust,” he said unemotionally. “Open them slowly.”

Terek Modjeski swore, gradually prising his flickering eyelids apart.

Now that Anton could see the nosferatu’s face clearly it was all he could do not to flinch. Despite it having been only three weeks since his last visit, the creature’s complexion had deteriorated, the perfect white skin now sallow and pitting. The lips were thinning and turning bluey-grey; the mouth caving in at the edges. Up top, the long hair had grown lank and flat.

“You look awful,” he told the prisoner. “A mere shadow of your former self.”

Regarding his visitor with loathing, Terek countered: “I could say the same of you, slayer. You seem wan, listless. What’s wrong? Not eating properly? Drinking too much? Plagued by nightmares – distressing dreams about your darling lost girl?”

The vampire giggled in a deranged way.


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