Fan Fiction Fling Entry #2

fanfic vote


I’ll post each of the eight fan fiction entries, one a day, and then on August 15th we’ll vote on our favorites! (Voting will be anonymous – no one will know who you voted for!)

Today we have a cross over between the Amaranthine series and… well…whatever she decided to name it:

World’s Collide by Julie Arlene

Dominique refused to let them break her. They may have won the battle, the war even, but they wouldn’t see her flinch. They’d taken her best friends, her army, and her victory, but they wouldn’t take her pride.

The redheaded bitch sighed. “Dominique, don’t make us do this.”

“That’s Mistress Dominique to you, wench.” Her name was Keera, but Dominique refused to dignify her with a name.

“Very well. If that’s the way it’s going to be.” The bitch turned to the Dragonborns, “Do it.”

A rush of energy filled the plaza and a portal opened up behind her. The high born dancer stepped forward and cut the ties to Dominique’s wrists. She paused, and a wicked smile crossed her face, “This is for Katja.” With a swift move she drove the stiletto into Dominique’s shoulder and twisted, hard.


The redheaded bitch had someone else to be upset with now. How darling. Dominique
laughed through the pain. “What a lovely parting gift. You have my blood now. I’ll be back.”

With that, she turned and stepped into the portal, choosing to go on her terms rather than be forced. The portal closed behind her and she hurtled forward through the blackness.


Red hair glinted in the moonlight. A lithe figure slipped handily through the trees. Some thought forests were creepy at night, but Verchiel didn’t mind. Vampire status had some perks – and some drawbacks. He couldn’t remember what sunlight felt like. Moonlight did just fine though.

He was hoping Jorick and Katelina hadn’t returned from their honeymoon yet. He needed some more time to deliver the perfect “gift”. The bag in his hand wiggled. Jorick would be so upset and Katelina would be thrilled – he hoped. It was perfect. Annoy Jorick with both the gift AND the fact that Katelina would love it. Absolutely perfect.

A tremor gently rocked the ground under his feet. He was in Florida. There weren’t supposed to be earthquakes in Florida. The tremor became stronger, the intensity causing fruit to fall out of the trees. A rush of cold, wet air hit his face with the force of a hurricane and the world went black.

The annoying squawking of an unknown bird species invaded the blackness. Verchiel made a mental note to check what it was and if the blood was any good. Just the sound alone could drive one mad. Moving slowly, he shook his head to clear it. He was on his back, with a wicked headache. The bag! Where was the bag? Easing his head up, he saw it laying under the base of a tree, still tied shut. Stupid weather had better not have killed his surprise.

Verchiel stood, looking around carefully. He had a reputation to maintain after all, and it didn’t involve being knocked unconscious by a hurriquake or whatever that weather was. Why Jorick and Katelina wanted a cabin in the middle of a godforsaken swamp, he had no idea. It did make the surprise more fun though. They wouldn’t expect someone to come all the way out here and drop something off.

He gingerly picked up the bag, and smiled when it jerked and yowled. Good. It was still alive. He checked his surroundings one more time, and turned back toward the cabin. A few steps and he came to a dead halt. The warm, intoxicating smell of human blood hit him with a force not unlike the hurriquake from minutes earlier. This was no ordinary human blood. This was old.

Too old. And different somehow.

Verchiel turned off the path and followed his nose, the smell becoming more intense and
intoxicating with each footfall. Definitely human. Definitely alive. Definitely old. Too, too old. It felt like the wrong century kind of old. That made no sense. There was something else he couldn’t place. It was just not quite right.

He ducked under a heavy bough and leapt gracefully (he thought) over a downed tree and stopped short. A small, fresh crater was blown out of the soft earth. In the center, a petite, curvy brunette lay unconscious, blood seeping from a deep wound in her left shoulder. She was wearing some sort of a clingy, iridescent silver gown that was somehow still pristine.

Verchiel shook his head. He could puzzle over the mysterious gown later. For now, he needed to get that warm, curvy body somewhere safe. He now had a live sack and a live human to deal with. On top of that, all this warm, live blood was making him hungry. This was going to be a long night.

Sighing, he scooped the poor waif up into his arms, and increased his speed toward Jorick and Katelina’s cabin. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do with her, but he couldn’t leave her for dead. Not because he was softhearted. He scoffed slightly to himself. No, it was definitely because one couldn’t let something that gorgeous bleed out. If she was going to die, she was coming back as a vampire. Something this beautiful had to be preserved.

He rounded the last bend and found himself in front of the cabin. Hopefully Katelina had
something other than white sheets and towels. He was going to need to do some serious
clean up.

The brunette in his arms stirred slightly. The bag had gone from wiggling to struggling with a vengeance. He felt like a juggler in a three ring circus. This was not working. Verchiel set the bag down on the stoop with a small thud and attempted to gracefully shift the brunette over his shoulder. As he picked Jorick’s lock, he mused that it probably looked a bit more like tossing a sack of potatoes over his shoulder and then standing on one leg trying to keep his balance. Jorick might even crack a smile if he could see this. Maybe, but not likely. More likely was going to be Jorick’s resolve to kill him after he discovered Verchiel had turned his sanctuary into a rescue hospital for some damsel in distress. Even more likely was the probability that resolve would increase when he found the wedding present Verchiel had procured for Katelina.

Someday Jorick would appreciate his taste in the finer things in life. Or he wouldn’t. Either way, Verchiel was having too much fun to stop now.

Stepping into the cabin, Verchiel headed straight for the linen closet and found a practical denim quilt. Tossing it over the overstuffed plaid couch, he deposited the brunette on top.

Returning to the porch, he acquired the bag and took it straight to the small bedroom at the back of the cabin. He pulled a rather adorable sand filled box and tin of tuna fish out of his backpack. He opened the tuna and set it near the box, then opened the bag. A rather pissed off looking kitten exited the bag and skidded to a halt. He looked up at Verchiel and hissed. Verchiel shook his head in amusement. He’d rescued the damn thing from drowning. You’d think he’d be a little more grateful. The little beast shook his fur out and glanced around the room. The tin of tuna drew him like a beacon. Katelina was going to have way too much fun with this little bugger. Verchiel exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Time to deal with the unexpected guest.

The brunette shifted slightly at his touch, mumbling something unintelligible. Verchiel decided to take that as a good sign. At least she was still alive. Verchiel examined the wound in her shoulder. It was deep. Looked like there was some damage to the muscles and ligaments. Not that he was a medical doctor or knew what he was doing, but this didn’t look good. He hoped she was right handed and wouldn’t mind drinking a little vampire blood. He didn’t know of any other hope for that arm unless he took her to a human hospital and that would be hard to explain. Then again, establishing a connection with an unconscious human who couldn’t consent was also hard to explain. Shaking his head, Verchiel decided the risk was worth the reward. Maybe she’d be grateful. He raided the medicine cabinet for wound packing supplies.

Gauze, wound cleaner, antiseptic and adhesive wrap were in ample supply. Returning to the couch, he nicked his wrist with his pocket knife and forced a little blood down her throat, careful not to choke her. He then cleaned and bandaged the shoulder the best he could.

Covering her with a warm blanket, he stood and took full survey of the cabin for the first time. It was cozy, he decided. A fireplace was centered on the main living room wall and was flanked by huge bookcases. Leather bound tomes filled the shelves. Jorick did love his old books. The overstuffed furniture was an ugly shade of plaid, but comfortable to sink into. The kitchen was minimal. Not like they needed much. A hallway lead down to the bedrooms, a large master suite with a gorgeous soaker tub, and a smaller guest room, where Katelina’s surprise awaited her.

He preferred more opulent settings, but this seemed like it would suit Jorick and Katelina just fine. They liked quiet and simple. And this was certainly hard enough to find to ease Jorick’s paranoia. Verchiel figured most Executioners wouldn’t venture out here to find someone. Especially given the appalling lack of cell phone service. He couldn’t even get enough signal to download the updates for Angry Birds. The lack of amusement wasn’t helping his slightly hangry state. He checked the refrigerator, which look suspiciously like someone had raided a blood bank. At least it was well-stocked. He popped the lid off a bottle and chugged it cold.

A moment later he regretted the decision not to heat it. Too late now. At least he wasn’t
feeling like eating that gorgeous thing on the couch anymore. At least, not as a food source.

He wandered back in and started a fire in the fireplace. Plopping down in one of the
overstuffed leather chairs, he attempted to relax. Firelight danced over perfectly tanned skin on the couch across from him. Despite his attempt to have good intentions, Verchiel couldn’t help but stare. A small, perfectly round freckle, the curve of her cheekbone, the form of her body, that dress. Verchiel found himself lost in thought about who she could possibly be and how she’d landed in a god-forsaken swamp in Florida.


Floating was a unique feeling. Warm, cozy, snuggly. Dominique felt the weight of gravity
pulling her back to reality. Wherever she was, waking up didn’t sound like fun. As she felt the world pulling her back down she stretched her arms. Her left shoulder was extremely stiff and a little sore. She couldn’t remember why it was a so sore. She tried to sit up but her head was spinning.

“Easy there.” A smooth, masculine voice broke into her thoughts.

“Viktor?” Dominique struggled to sit up. “Viktor?! I thought you were dead.”

“Slow down sweetheart. I don’t know who Viktor is, but you took a pretty good beating before I found you.”

A handsome redhead came into focus. Definitely not Viktor. By the Goddess, she missed him.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Verchiel.”

“Dominique. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“I assure you, the pleasure is mine.”

“How did I get here? And where is… here?”

Dominique looked around at the rustic cabin. A roaring fire lit up a huge rock fireplace. Hewn log walls were covered with gorgeous artwork. Windows were closed up with indoor shutters. What was this place?

“This is my associates’ cabin. They are on their honeymoon, and I was dropping by to check on their place – and drop off a wedding gift.”

Dominique nodded, “That was kind of you. What exactly is a honeymoon?”

The redhead raised his eyebrows, “A trip you take after your wedding to celebrate.”

“Oh. So where am I, what part of the Continent am I on?”

A small smirk crossed his face. “Dollface, you’re in Florida.”


“Florida. One of the 50 United States of America.”

“The what?”

“Where are you from?”

“Clearly not here.”

“What year was it where you were?”

Dominique’s confusion was growing by the second, “Why does that matter?”

“Just humor me, Dollface.”

“1853, the Age of the SunDragon.”

“It’s 2015 here.”

“What age?”

Verchiel laughed. “There aren’t ages anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You time travelled, Dollface. Whatever that hurriquake was you caused, somehow, you time travelled.”

“Time travelled? Hurriquake? What is a hurriquake?”

“Whatever got you here shook, rained and crashed down like the biggest combination of an earthquake and hurricane I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t know what that is, but I can explain the phenomenon. It was a banishment portal, created by the Dragonborn.”

The eyebrow quirked again. “Now I’m the one who is confused. It seems you not only came from another time, but possibly another dimension, if that’s possible.”

“This is a lot to take in.”

“That I can understand. So, what happened to bring you here?”

Dominique sighed. “That’s a very long, complicated tale. That you likely wouldn’t believe.
Dragons, mages, wars.”

“Dragons? That’s intriguing. Are you a mage?”

Dominique snorted. “Absolutely not. I am an elemental witch. A chemist really.”

“A witch. That explains a lot.”

“Such as?”

“Well, in the interest of full disclosure. I’m a vampire. And your blood smells funny. Also, I may have had you drink some of my blood, so you wouldn’t die. So now your a witch with vampire blood in you, and I’m not really sure how that will affect you.”

Dominique tamped down the instinctive anger. “You did what?”

“Let’s focus on you for a moment here,” the charming smile was back.

Dominique shook her head. “I suppose what is done is done. At least it didn’t kill me.”

Verchiel smiled, “I appreciate your understanding. So, why don’t you tell me that complicated story of yours.”

“I don’t know where to begin.”

“The beginning is always a good place.”

Dominique sighed and nodded, “It started with a prophecy…”

Verchiel grinned wryly as he leaned back and settled in. “Doesn’t it always.”

~~~~Dominique’s Story is Continued in Book One… of whatever I’m naming my series!~~~~


Check back tomorrow for the next entry!

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  1. Love this! Is she an authorauthor? It’s like she’s merging your Seuss with hers and it’s amazing!

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