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Goddess of the Ancients

by Roan Rosser

The neon lights of Las Vegas mask the horrors hiding in the shadows. Horrors like my ancient vampiric maker, the Goddess Tawaret.

Tawaret promises me power in exchange for helping her. She wants to be worshiped again, and has me gathering vampire followers. My boyfriend, Jack, tries to warn me about her, but I don’t listen. Too late, I realize my mistake in accepting.

Now there is no escape. After the slaughter she left behind in Portland, no one wants to risk her wrath. With Jack suddenly abandoning me, no one will come to my rescue.

I’d rather die than be bound to her for eternity. It just might come to that.

This book is on:
  • 2 To Be Read lists
Published:
Genres:
Fantasy, Fantasy - Dark Fantasy, Fantasy - LGBTQ+, Fantasy - Urban & Magical Beings, Paranormal, Paranormal - Dark, Paranormal - LGBTQ+, Paranormal - Shifters, Paranormal - Vampires

Tags:
author - american, format - book, format - kindle, format - novel, format - novel <100K, format - novel 40-100K, format - self published, format - sequel, format - series, identity - gay, identity - transgender, potential trigger - blood, potential trigger - death, potential trigger - violence, when - period - 20th century, who - type - shifter, who - type - vampires, who - type - werewolves

Tropes: Becoming a Monster, Found Family, Magic Talisman, Reluctant Vampires
Word Count: 75000
Setting: United States, Nevada, Las Vegas
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Continuous / Same Characters
Tropes: Becoming a Monster, Found Family, Magic Talisman, Reluctant Vampires
Word Count: 75000
Setting: United States, Nevada, Las Vegas
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Continuous / Same Characters

About the Author

I escaped from the bowels of Utah (namely Provo) and now live in the sunny Pacific Northwest United States.

My urban fantasy novels mainly feature the trans and queer protagonists grappling with things like identity and found families that I wished I could have read about growing up.

When not writing, you can probably find me beating up pixel baddies or in front of one of my sewing machines adding to my overstuffed closet or my army of homemade plush dolls.

If you find yourself blinded by the vivid colors and loud patterns of my homemade shirts, know that I’m only trying to warn you that I may be poisonous. Or venomous? Or both? Probably both.