Cover of Dhampiri novel

Colleen Patrick thought she was just going to the market one autumn day in 1872, when everything she knew about herself – and the world around her – abruptly changed. Living the American dream, she had been happy with her young, Irish husband on their small farm in Kentucky. Little did she know the town’s exotic gypsy family is actually a family of Vampires with big plans for her: plans that did not necessarily require her consent.

At just twenty-two years old, tragically removed from her life and thrust into an existence for which she was carefully selected, she is now a murderer, a widow, and an immortal.

As this epic tale unfolds Colleen is abruptly taken captive by a clan of Valkyries, demanding vengeance for a war which happened long before she was born, turning her world upside down once more. Now she must choose between the family she has grown to love and the delicate toddler who’s life is in her hands.


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“This was a cool take on vampires. New lore and new rules, I do enjoy a good change up.” ~Heather A.

“L.M. Smith’s book reminded me a lot of Rice’s because of the focus on the internal conflict the primary character faces due to her vampire status.  It was a nostalgic read for me and fans of the Lamenting vampire would enjoy it.” ~A. Price

“I’m ready for the sequel!” ~T. Daniel


“Colleen! Where in de name of De Fadder have ye been? Ye’v worried me half sick!” He scolded in a thick guttural Irish accent as he rushed straight to me and flung his arms around my shoulders, pulling me to him in a tight hug. “Are ye harmed?” He asked without letting me go.

In my heart I knew who he was even as I moved my right hand to twine around the curly red hair atop his head. I remembered watching him brawl with the other boys in our village as a lad. I remembered the first time he’d shown up on my doorstep to inform my father that he intended to begin courting me and my father’s adverse reaction to the announcement. I remembered the day of our wedding, presided over by Father Murphy, and boarding the ship to come to the new world after my father’s passing. I remembered kissing him goodbye before he left our little cabin to turn the soil the morning I went looking for cloth.

Without fully understanding what I was doing at the time, as if standing outside my body watching it happen, my left hand moved to the top of his shoulder and, with strength I never could have possessed before that day, I swiftly used both hands to force his head to the side over his left shoulder, exposing the very thin layer of skin feebly protecting his jugular vein. In the same, horrifying motion, which will haunt me for the rest of my existence, my mouth was upon his throat, my teeth sinking far too easily into his neck, closing beneath the vain and ripping open the flesh. Without knowing how I did it, and completely oblivious to Ronin’s shocked attempts to get away from me, I had snapped the tiny vein, held the open end in my mouth with my tongue and begun sucking upon it greedily.