At Dawn: Vampires, Ancient Gods, and Passions That Defy Eternity

It has been more than twenty years since that magical night at the Alfaville cinemas in Madrid when the shadows of my first novel, At Dawn, came to life for the very first time. The theater was full. The air vibrated with anticipation and mystery. The actors, fully immersed in their roles, brought to life the most heart-wrenching and sensual scenes from my story before an audience that seemed to hold its breath. That night was not just a premiere; it was the birth of a legend—a blood pact between my words and the readers who dared to cross the threshold.

Since then, time has passed, but the darkness that permeates At Dawn continues to pulse in every page, every whisper, and every forgotten corner where the ancient gods still murmur their secrets. Twenty years later, the story has not aged. Like a vampire feeding on the souls of its readers, it remains alive—sensual and terrifying.

Lilith: The Beginning and the End

I have a confession: Lilith has always been with me. She is the dark fire that ignited this story. The first woman of Adam, according to apocryphal accounts—the one who was cast out of Eden for refusing to kneel before him. Lilith is not a demon, nor a victim; she is the primordial mother, the rebellious lover, the creator of a lineage that fears neither eternity nor the darkness.

In At Dawn, her shadow is omnipresent. She is blood and desire, an echo of ancient times, a voice that calls to her children from the void. The lost city beneath the desert, the forgotten temples where her name still resonates—they are all pieces of a grand chessboard where Lilith plays with mortals, with the damned, and with those who dare to remember.

The Forbidden Gospel and the Ancestral Vampires

Vampirism in my novel is not what you’ve read a thousand times before. Here, there are no romantic monsters or tortured souls seeking redemption. In At Dawn, vampires are the offspring of a deeper evil, rooted in the dust of forgotten civilizations.

And yet, they are not mere villains. They are the bearers of a truth that the modern world has buried. They remember what we have forgotten—that beneath the skin of our time, the shadows of ancient gods still pulse, and sooner or later, those gods will awaken.

Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer: A Poet Among the Shadows

The Romantics always had one foot in the world of the dead, but Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer crossed the line. In my story, the poet becomes something more—a condemned man, yes, but also a lover, a martyr, someone who sold his soul for forbidden love and now wanders eternity in search of redemption.

I have always been fascinated by his work, his Rhymes and Legends. While writing At Dawn, I imagined Bécquer trapped between the horror and beauty of a world that never ends—a world where passion and death intertwine like lovers who cannot let go. His tragedy, his strength, and his weaknesses make him one of the pillars of this story.

León and the Journey of No Return

León is the guiding thread of this journey, a mortal turned into a key piece in a game he does not understand. Many of you may see yourselves in him. León embodies desire, fear, and transformation. He is the chosen one, the herald of a new era, but also a man caught between two worlds, between two women—Simona and Lidia, salvation and perdition, shadow and light.

From the neon-lit streets of Madrid to the sands of the Nefud Desert, León walks a path of blood and discovery. With every step, his humanity unravels, and the beast within awakens. But what does it really mean to be a monster? Aren’t we all prisoners of our own desires?

The Desert, the Lost City, and the End of Time

In At Dawn, the desert is not just a setting; it is a character in its own right—a place where time ceases to exist, and souls can be lost forever. There lies the sacred city, the last remnant of the ancient gods, the epicenter of a ritual that could bring them back to life.

Josué, the oldest vampire, and Lidia, his dark daughter, seek this place. Their goal is clear: to awaken the gods, reincarnate in them, and rule over the living and the dead. But the city does not reveal itself easily. Only dreamers, the condemned, and the mad can find it. And when they do, it may already be too late.

A Pact with the Reader

At Dawn is not just a story. It is a pact between you, the reader, and me, the narrator. It is a journey into the heart of darkness, a descent into humanity’s most ancient and profound fears. It is also a hymn to the beauty of the forbidden, the power of myths, and the insatiable desire of those who dare to defy the sacred.

Twenty years after its publication, At Dawn continues to pulse, waiting for new readers to open its pages and face the darkness within. Because the real question is not whether the gods will awaken—the real question is: what will you do when they do?

Remember, the shadows always advance… until dawn arrives.