Vanity

The Books of Insanity, Vol. II

By KT Pinto

All I did was set the Members of the Gathering up so that they would burn to a crisp when the sun arose. You would think that vampyres as old as they are would be able to appreciate a good joke...

What starts off as a desperate attempt to save herself from a hoard of ancient vampyres, turns into an adventure that takes the vampyress Celeste past the boundaries of the Roman Empire and into worlds beyond her insane imagination.

Anxious to find out what happened to her werecat lover Vanity, she travels between this plane of existence and others, along the way encountering the macabre court of the Unseelie, a pack of angry Highland werecats, the Loch Ness Monster, and—atop his fiery throne—Lucifer himself.

Through nights of torture, tests of fortitude, a couple of massacres, and a fallen Empire, Celeste finds out a lot more than she ever wanted to know about Vanity, and discovers a few things about herself as well.

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About the Author

KT Pinto

KT Pinto has been writing for over 20 years (can we say glutton for punishment?). This NYC girl has been published in numerous magazines, including Nth Degree, Proteus, the LARPer, and Pyramid. Her short story "Game Over" can be found in the anthology Hear Them Roar. She has a weekly superhero serial on her website (http://www.ktpinto.com) called Sto's House.

Reviews

"Wonderful premier novel! Great dialog, wonderful characters, and impressive historical backdrop. I can't wait to see what Ms. Pinto does next!"
– Christopher Mancuso, Executive Creative Director, Scared on Staten Island

Excerpt

I shook my head and arched my back, my eyes closing as his mouth continued down my body. "No, it's not bad at all…" I turned my head, and realized we were no longer in the woods. I tried to sit up, but my arms and legs were tied down, and I was laying spread eagle on a hard surface. "This is not good..."

I spotted Vanity across the room, wearing a little less than a loincloth. He was sitting on a window ledge, resting his elbow on his knee, his head in his hand, watching me intently.

"May I ask where I am?" I calmly asked.

"You don't know?"

I glanced around. We were in the main room of a cottage with a stone fireplace and thatched roof. If I strained my neck, I could see a bedroom and a tiny kitchen. "Well," I said slowly, licking my lips, "we're in a hut…"

"It's not a hut," he growled, "It's a cottage."

My eyes narrowed. "And from your defensiveness, I'd have to say it's your hut." I ignored his scowl. "So, we're in Scotland?"

"No, we're not."

"Well, I'd have a better idea of my whereabouts if I weren't strapped down."

"See, but I like you better this way." He smiled wistfully. "You look so… delicate and fragile like that."

I gritted my teeth. "I look fragile when I'm tied up?"

"Oh yeah."

I looked into his eyes, and didn't like what I saw there. "Can you please tell me where in the nine hells I am?"

"Well, I can tell you you're definitely not in any of the nine hells."

I thrashed against my bonds. "Where am I?" Then it hit me and I stopped moving. "I'm in Faeland, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are!" he said happily. He reminded me of a kid with a new toy; I had a feeling I was the toy.