American Vampires Series by J.A. Huss – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

American Vampires Series by J.A. Huss – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Wed, 04 Jun 2025 21:17:57 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png American Vampires Series by J.A. Huss – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Blood Mother (American Vampires #3) Read Online J.A. Huss http://www.books2020.com/blood-mother-american-vampires-3-read-online-j-a-huss Wed, 04 Jun 2025 21:17:57 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/blood-mother-american-vampires-3-read-online-j-a-huss Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Taboo, Vampires Authors: J.A. Huss Series: American Vampires Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)

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The Final Installment of the American Vampires Trilogy

Ryet
The hunger burns, the feeding soothes. I hate this curse, I hate the world, and most of all, I hate myself. Because I am chained to the blood of the only thing I truly want—the little Black witch called Syrsee.

Syrsee
I thought it would be feed the scion, survive his transformation, forge some kind of new life together. But each drop I give Ryet brings the Darkness closer. Each drop he takes drags the demon out.

Paul
For thousands of years, the Darkness ignored me. But that monster was never my god, and Josep was never my salvation. It is Ryet who will deliver me from evil.

Josep
I alone hold the power to create a vampire. Not Paul. There is but one, and it is me. I am the monster. I am the king—unrivaled and invincible.

Little Baby
I was a mistake. From the moment I was born, I was unwanted. Discarded. And then he found me. Evil itself wanted me. But if I am damned to eternal Hell, I’m taking someone down with me

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1 - Little Baby

Before he made you, he made me

It’s three forty-two am when I stumble through the back door of my house smelling of smoke and sex. I am so drunk I forget to take off my Docs and they clunk on every step as I make my way upstairs to my bedroom. On some nights this clunking would be enough to earn a beating from my father, but on this night, it’s not. He’s been drinking for three weeks straight. I haven’t even seen him for days. Heard him, yes—he and my mother are always fighting—but seen him, no.

The basement is his man cave so that’s where he likes to get his booze on. And when he’s on a bender like this, he doesn’t even come up to eat. Sleeps down there too.

I love his benders because while he’s still dangerous when he’s falling-down drunk, his aim is pretty bad. He still tries to hit me, but more often than not he breaks his knuckles on a wall instead of my face.

Sobriety, as far as I’m concerned, is my number one enemy. Both mine and my father’s. When he’s drunk, he’s too busy thinking about himself to care about me. And when I’m stoned, I’m too immersed in my own self-delusions to care about the truth.

Which is that my life sucks and is going absolutely nowhere.

I flop into bed, not even bothering to take off my boots. The room is spinning, but I don’t care. And since I decided to drop out of school so I can hang at Boyd’s house every day, I can sleep in as long as I want.

I moan as I turn over onto my stomach, and then pass out, hoping that my father stays drunk forever.

When I wake, I find myself in a place of emptiness.

But as soon as I think that thought, there is a mist here. Purple, but some gold too. It’s hard to see because there is nothing but darkness all around me, but I can feel it. It cools my burning hot body and feels good on my skin.

“Hello?” a voice says.

I don’t startle. I’m not scared. But maybe I should be? I’m not sure.

“Are you awake now, Echo?”

Echo? I make a face. Though I don’t think I’m really making a face because I don’t think I actually have a body. “Who’s Echo?” Then I’m even more confused. Because that’s my voice and how could I have a voice if I don’t have a body?

“Oh.” The other voice is calm, and low, and kind of seductive. “Oh, I see. You’re…” She falters for words, then tries again. “What are you? I mean, who? Who are you?”

Who am I? I don’t know. So I say, “I’m just me.”

“I think you are Echo.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well…” There’s some hesitation here, like this woman is about to explain something to me but doesn’t quite know how to start. “I think you are. In fact, I should just get to the point here, Echo. That’s your name. I should know. I made you.”

“Made me?” I scoff. “No. That’s decidedly not true.” These words come out automatically and they come out with such certainty, the woman goes silent for a few moments, allowing me to think. To ponder my… conviction. Because how the hell do I know she’s not the one who made me? I have no memory of anything at the moment. I don’t even have a body.

Which, again, is contradictory since I do have a mouth and a voice.

“OK,” the woman finally says. “All right. Well, if it wasn’t me, then who?”

I shrug my shoulders, surprised that I have shoulders to do this. And I’m just about to say I don’t know, I just know it’s not her, when a name comes to me. “Josep did.”

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Advertisement Blood Brothers (American Vampires #2) Read Online J.A. Huss http://www.books2020.com/blood-brothers-american-vampires-2-read-online-j-a-huss Thu, 17 Apr 2025 13:12:32 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/blood-brothers-american-vampires-2-read-online-j-a-huss Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Vampires Authors: J.A. Huss Series: American Vampires Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)

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For thousands of years, the Darkness has chosen its champions—granting power, feeding ambition, and demanding sacrifice to those it favored.

The Vampire Paul is not this champion.
He is, however, cunning and patient.

Ryet, cursed by his demonic transformation, is bound by blood to Syrsee, a witch whose very existence fuels his hunger and his torment. Each drop of her blood brings him closer to becoming the monster he fears, even as their connection grows intoxicatingly intimate. Is it love between them? Or just an addiction?

Paul, the creator, sees Ryet as his masterpiece, the key to his salvation—and his undoing. Driven by ambition and the promise of a legacy, Paul will stop at nothing to see his vision realized, even as it fractures the fragile bonds of love and loyalty he’s earned with Ryet.

But it is Josep, favored and chosen by the Darkness itself, who holds the true power. As he wields his gifts to shape the future, his arrogance blinds him to forces conspiring for control.

In a world of blood and magic, where power corrupts and love ensnares, the Darkness always demands more—and the battle for eternity is only beginning

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue - Josep

Two Weeks Ago

We are the Darkness and the Darkness is us.

Iwalk towards Paul and place my hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes. They are red these days, like the anger inside him. “This is it?”

Paul nods his head, searching my eyes or maybe getting lost in them. “Ryet’s not here yet, but he will be shortly. The girl is being bled out right now. You will have your share in a matter of hours.”

A long exhale comes out and I release Paul’s shoulders. I turn, then walk across the smooth rock cave floor and over to the little pool of cool water that is collecting underneath my trickling waterfall.

I look down into the water—it’s black. Black and shiny. Like a mirror. Like a portal to the Darkness that lives deep below the earth. I can see it on the other side of the water, though this is not how I physically make contact with it.

The Darkness undulates with slow, gentle movements. Like ink. But it’s not ink. It can rise up and be whatever it wants to be. It could be me, or Paul, or anyone. It has been me, many times over. It was Paul too, once upon a time.

I turn back to Paul, smiling now. Because this little witch’s blood will change everything from this day forward. Nothing will ever be the same after tonight.

We are making a new kind of Darkness. Something that hasn’t been attempted since… well. Since the Darkness came to be, I imagine.

“We did it,” I say.

Paul is looking handsome, as usual. Especially surrounded in the misty lavender light of my cave. “We did.”

I can hardly believe it. “He’s going to be born tonight?”

Paul nods. “Absolutely.”

“And how long⁠—”

“I don’t know. A week, perhaps? You know how slow things move across the ocean. Regardless, the Obscurati will know what’s happening soon enough.”

“Yeah.” It almost comes out as a chuckle. But I turn just in time to hide my smile. The lavender mist cooling my body and filling the cave is making everything glow.

Paul and I met after he tried to kill his maker, as one occasionally does. It’s not a heinous crime, per se, but the Obscurati look down on cheaters. And Paul is nothing if not a cheater. He takes shortcuts.

Well, he did. That was his real crime. Not the killing of the maker. Evolution must be done stepwise—slowly and carefully, over many hundreds of years—so when a talented newborn skips ahead, well. He must be put in his place and forced to slow down.

That’s all that happened back in the Old World. Of course, it’s very easy to see the complete picture from a distance. But in the moment, it didn’t feel like a slap on the hand. It felt very personal. Paul’s banishment to the wild lands of America was only meant to be a timeout. He didn’t understand that and, of course, I didn’t bother filling him in. Punishment is a cure for tarnished character and Paul’s character was in desperate need of polishing.

Paul was energetic, and ambitious, and eager. I was tired, and bored, and apathetic.

I was never a talented newborn, but I had favor with the Darkness. I was singled out in this way. The Darkness has liked me since my birth. It would visit often when I was a scion, following me like an ink-stained shadow through the years. Guiding me forward. Giving me little hints about how to proceed when the ambition to figure it out on my own eluded me.

It had me make terrible, terrible things. Of course, these terrible things were for the Darkness itself, not me. But I was the one responsible for them and the Darkness did not interfere with my punishment from the elder brothers in the Obscurati. They didn’t like the fact that I was favored. That I could, theoretically, get the Darkness to do my bidding by simply asking.

I wasn’t interested in asking for gifts from the Darkness. Not then, not even now. There is a high price to pay when you are blessed with success without earning it. Nothing is free, after all. There is always a cost.

The brotherhood couldn’t force me to use my gift. But they could make my life very uncomfortable if I didn’t.

So that’s what they did.

My life, from the moment I was second-born as a scion, was a series of torturous events at the hands of these brothers, so when Paul came to me with this offer—a vial of dead blood to kill myself in exchange for a blessing from the Darkness so he could complete his project—of course I agreed.

I never wanted to be this thing that I am.

I never asked for the Dark blessing.

I didn’t kill myself. Obviously. It’s funny how it happens like that. You get what you want, your greatest desire, and then… it’s just not as sweet as you thought it would be.

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Advertisement Blood Lovers (American Vampires #1) Read Online J.A. Huss http://www.books2020.com/blood-lovers-american-vampires-1-read-online-j-a-huss Fri, 24 Mar 2023 15:25:33 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/blood-lovers-american-vampires-1-read-online-j-a-huss Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Authors: J.A. Huss Series: American Vampires Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)

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The Devil craves beauty. Even in himself. The vampire will make magnificent promises and I will say yes. The man I give my heart to will steal my soul.

Syrsee
My grandma gave me these words of wisdom just before she died.
Then she told me to run. Because if the old witch is dying, then he needs a new one.
And that’s me.
This is my curse.
I am the vampire’s power. I am the vampire’s strength.
I am the vampire’s food. And he is very, very hungry.

Ryet
I hate him, but I crave him. I want to be rid of him, but I also want him next to me.
I want to feed on him and sometimes I dream about him feeding on me.
It feels like a trick. Like abuse.
Like Stockholm syndrome. But it’s not. It’s just… the blood.
I am the vampire’s scion. I am the vampire’s slave. I am the vampire’s future.
And he will never let me go.

Paul
I am the vampire. Once you make a deal with me, it’s done. There’s no going back.
Once I bite my lip— Once I bare my teeth— Once I let it drip— He’s mine. She’s mine.
And together we are blood lovers.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE - SYRSEE

If the old witch is dying, then he needs a new one.

It’s New Year’s Eve, my grandma is dying, and there is a party going on all around me. The music is so loud the deck of the old, wooden porch is quaking beneath my boots and clumps of snow are sliding off the severely slanted roof with every beat. My hand is on the doorknob of the old cabin, ready to turn it and step inside, but I take a moment. My heart is thumping inside my chest with such vigor I have a sudden fear that I will pass out and wake up with the mouth of the vampire on my neck.

It’s not an irrational fear. It’s a very real possibility. Because I am a Black witch, and I have the Black blood flowing through my veins, and he has been hunting me for this reason since I was born.

You’re fine, Syrsee. I say this over and over in my head. You’re fine.

I’m not, really. I’m in a lot of danger pretty much twenty-four seven when I am outside the Guild walls. But I only have two choices here. Either go inside and say my goodbyes or let my grandma slip away into her dark hell, alone and afraid.

And it’s not just letting her slip away alone and afraid. It’s letting her slip away thinking I hated her. Which I did, but I’m not sure I still do.

Ten years is a long time.

That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen or spoken to her.

She came to my graduation from the Guild School, which is a boarding school for Guild members, obviously. They let me stay after my grandma abandoned me with them when I was seven.

Maybe ‘abandon’ is a strong word. She did take me there. She did arrange things. She did explain who and what I was so I didn’t have to hide anymore. So maybe ‘abandoned’ is a strong word.

Then again, when you’re seven and your grandma leaves you with people who have been tasked with killing you and your kin for hundreds of years, maybe it’s not.

Obviously, they didn’t kill me because I’m still here. They gave me a dorm room and an education. They gave me a home, actually. They gave me food, and friends, and adults who cared about what I was thinking and feeling. Hell, they even paid for my freaking college.

And she did that. She gave me up so I could have all that.

She saved me. Through some truce, and some magic, and, let’s face it, her own dark will—she saved me that day she walked out.

Because if ever there was a girl who needed saving, it’s me. I am made of darkness. Born of it. The Black blood flowing through my veins says this is true.

I should be dead. I should be rotting in Hell with the rest of my people. Or, at the very least, I should be living in squalor with the vampire’s teeth on my neck. I should be all these things, but I’m not.

And Grandma did that.

The intellectual side of me understands this. So I guess it wasn’t being dropped off with the Guild that drove us apart—it was all the stuff that came before that.

Here is what I have always known:

One. We are witches, but not the bookstore kind. That’s what Grandma used to call them. The ones who play with pretend magic, and use tarot cards, or incense, or candles.

We are an entirely different kind of witch. We can’t just… stop burning candles and incense and decide to be something else one day. It’s in our blood. Literally. Our blood is black with the darkness and the evil that stalks the edges of this world.

Two. The evil inside us can do powerful, powerful things and can be stolen if one knows how to take it. Because isn’t that always how it goes in this wicked world? Even if one is not a witch like me, everyone is feeding off something. People eat, don’t they? Everything eats.

Survival is evil, in and of itself.

And it’s justified because it’s survival.

It’s a circular thing. A cycle, like everything else. Survival and evil feed each other. They feed off each other. It’s a sick, dark, corrupt symbiotic relationship that tells you everything you need to know about the realm we all live in.

Three. Everything has a place or it wouldn’t exist. Even the darkness. Even the evil. Even me.

I know all this. Have known all this.

I know what I am, I know what I’m running from, and I know where I will end up.

Nothing I do can change any of that.

But being told this and being confronted with it in real life are two entirely different things. And maybe I overreacted. Perhaps I went a little too far when I walked away for ten years.

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