Wednesday, March 19, 2014




I'm 23 years-old English Literature graduate girl who writes under a male name Aidan. I liked the way the Bronte sisters wrote under masculine names and the mystery it gives to your writer identity. And it also happens that Aidan is made with my true name spelled backwards. I like to write about the paranormal hiding in plain sight and in true settings. I also like taking old myths and twisting them to make a new story.



Italian Art Graduate Gioia Di Terzi has left Rome for England, upsetting all her plans of a future as a Museum administrator. Now working as a civil servant, she settles into a British working-class routine which comes nowhere close to her dreams of English Gothic tales. That's before she discovers the Medieval Quarter of the city and steps into its Guildhall, a building which instantaneously fascinates her. Little does she know she just crossed the supernatural underworld's threshold...


In 1430,Roydon Thamesian's pact with Vampires saved his life and made him the powerful Guildhall's guardian. Ruling the Medieval Quarter, he doesn't know humanity anymore. Until Gioia Di Terzi stumbles into his life and he becomes the target of unmistakable attacks from a Hunter...


So they dug your grave 

And the masquerade 

Will come calling out 

At the mess you've made 

Part 1: The Grave Ajar 


I was twenty-four when I left home for the first time ever.

And to make an impression I left far( 1572,5 kilometres/980 miles) and for long (at least a year), to England.

The job I applied for was not challenging to me, it didn't even require the amount of degrees I had.

I am in love with knowledge, and I graduated in Art and History at the University of Rome.

And above all I live and breathe for culture.

Urban and industrious this average British city was just the place I would have to live in for the next twelve months.

It lacked a certain sense of mystery I had expected- I read far too much.

The sun itself dared not touch most of the buildings as a haze weighed on the early workers running to their office, me amongst them. Everything about here seemed so dispassionate and unemotional.

I didn't know much of the city yet, it was like I had walked into a neat, aseptic dream where nothing was real except my work.

In fact, this was a false start,really.

Will you excuse me while I begin again?

I was looking for a shortcut during my lunch break when I found the Guildhall.

It was like I had tumbled from a plain street right into the Cathedral Quarter of the city. Just like that with no signs or warning, I found myself before the thick walls of yore, the yellowed columns and the arched entry into a courtyard. I saw the sign''open to visitors today'' and thought why not?

I knew a few things about Guildhalls, mostly they used to be run by guilds of merchants and craftsmen and they held a good deal of medieval power.

This building was a shock in a sea of suburbanization. I pushed the button of the intercom with apprehension, "I am just a visitor...'' I was demanding an entry in a place I did not belong.

The buzz of the door, I stumbled into a world so still and so alien, taking a step back in time, with the wooden stairs, the tapestries, the paintings and the suffocating silence.

"Hello?" I shouted to no avail.

There was no guide, no employee in period clothes, I just followed the signs on the doors, my steps silenced by the carpet.

I quickly took some pictures disturbed by the vacancy of the place and as I ascended the stairs I heard a hum of voices.

A conference room, empty. A door in a niche, hidden behind a curtain.

I followed the voice, its drum attracting me almost against my will.

To some extent I am a snooping person, and such a location which was the polar opposite of the rest of the city, fueled my desire to discover more.

I peeked through the door slightly opened.

"I hate to set the alarm" said a voice which sounded like someone on the speaker. "But this hitch in the delivery is highly unanticipated.''

"Precisely why I called for this meeting with you" said the voice that made my body so self-conscious. "I am not the most disquieted of us, you know it, but I won't be caught off-balance by spirits."

"Saor has proven worthy of the Guild's respect many times before, Sir" said a third voice.

I held my breath as the owner of the spellbinding voice rose from his armchair.

He was tall, wore a black sweater, his hair was golden brown and thick and I couldn't distinguish the rest of him. His voice didn't quite match what I could perceive of him. There was a paradox in this man, I had a problem of perspective and could only see a detail of the fresco.

I had lingered too long as I caught the time on my cellphone, I whispered "Shit."

I ran back to the exit, knowing I would be late anyway.

In the courtyard I almost collided with a bulky man wearing a suit, kind of a bodyguard.

He said something I didn't hear as I was still jogging away.

This day I entered the Guildhall, I made the mistake.

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