Excerpt:

My second death was a quiet one, unplanned, deep beneath the ground in my family's tomb. There were no brave speeches, no selfish protestations of cruel fate. Only my self-slain lover and myself, surrounded by the echoing sound of water dripping on stone.

As the dagger pierced my breast I realized what I had done. Too late. Suddenly I was falling. There was no warm welcoming light to beckon me forward, only darkness filled with the acrid smell of boiling blood and burning flesh.

But that is not the beginning.