TG Trouper reimagines the vampire myth through a distinctly modern lens in “Abbey”, a gothic yet intimate tale that finds beauty in darkness and identity in transformation. Set against the brooding backdrop of Whitby Abbey—the same haunting ruins that helped inspire Bram Stoker’s “Dracula”—this novel steps confidently into the new millennium, intertwining supernatural suspense with a deeply human story about love, secrecy, vengeance, and self-discovery.
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The story begins far from the bustle of modern life. Jane and William Morden, a reclusive couple living off the grid on the outskirts of West Sallbridge, receive a few cryptic letters from a Whitby parishioner named Donna, urging them to visit the Abbey before midnight on New Year’s Eve, 1999.
As fireworks erupt in the distance to welcome a new century, the Mordens hear the desperate cry of a baby echoing through the ruins. Believing her to be a gift from God, they take her home and name her Abbey. Their only confidant, Reverend Bennett, helps them keep the child’s existence secret—though readers quickly learn his motives are anything but pure, as he whispers to the infant: “These fools will look after you until the time is right, Mistress.”
Fourteen years later, that “time” arrives. Abbey’s peaceful isolation begins to unravel as strange instincts awaken within her, revealing a truth too dark for her adoptive parents to comprehend. Trouper builds this transformation with masterful restraint, allowing unease to simmer before plunging the reader into full-blown horror. What follows is a tale of blood and becoming, as Abbey’s vampiric urges intertwine with her emotional awakening and her journey toward understanding who—and what—she truly is.
Abbey’s first act of violence unfolds in West Sallbridge, where she lures a man all too eager to cheat on his girlfriend. He drives her to a deserted spot, expecting a secret rendezvous—but instead finds himself at the mercy of a predator intent on punishing his deceit. What begins as seduction turns to slaughter, establishing Abbey not as a mindless monster but as a creature of brutal, almost moral retribution.
The killing draws the attention of Detective Mark Saunders, whose investigation introduces the procedural thread shadowing the novel’s unfolding horror. When the victim’s friend later reports seeing the same strange young woman at a local market—this time picking up a painting of Whitby Abbey—Saunders reviews CCTV footage but finds nothing, his unease deepening as the case grows increasingly inexplicable.
Leaving West Sallbridge behind, Abbey eventually drifts into the nearby town of Inglewood, where her story takes an unexpected turn. There, she encounters Madeline—known as “Mads”—a woman surviving on the fringes of society. Abbey first sees her in The Duke’s Head pub, watching as a man exploits her and walks away without paying what he owes. Later, Abbey confronts him; when he refuses to make things right, she kills him and delivers the money to Madeline herself. It’s a violent yet strangely redemptive act, one that marks the beginning of a complex relationship built on empathy, protection, and forbidden desire.
As Abbey’s vengeance continues, Inglewood becomes the centre of a new investigation after another man is found savagely mutilated—his injuries so brutal and explicit that detectives first mistake them for a wild dog attack. Detectives Harrison and Sergeant Ross, alongside Pathologist Khan, take charge of the case, while Saunders, still haunted by his earlier encounter, travels to Inglewood to compare notes.
When the killings abruptly cease, Abbey and Madeline relocate to Whitby—drawn there by a mysterious pull our vampiric protagonist feels toward the ruins of Whitby Abbey, the very place where she was once found as a child, and reignited after seeing its image in the painting she bought at the market. Hoping to leave their past behind, they seek solace by the sea. But peace proves fleeting. Before long, Whitby’s cobbled streets and stormy coastline become the backdrop for another string of deaths—each more violent and purposeful than the last. It’s here, under the looming shadow of the Abbey, that the strands of Abbey’s past and present begin to intertwine.
Following a hunch sparked by that witness who saw Abbey purchasing a painting of Whitby Abbey at the market, Detective Mark Saunders travels north, determined to see if a connection exists between the killings in West Sallbridge and Inglewood. In Whitby, he crosses paths with Detective Wilkinson, who shares details of a string of eerily similar murders in the town, each echoing the brutality Saunders has been tracking.
As he pieces the cases together, the evidence begins to suggest a pattern that defies rational explanation. Saunders forms a theory about the perpetrator—a conclusion he struggles to accept, as nothing in his experience could account for it. Yet the evidence is insistent, forcing him to confront a reality that challenges everything he believes, heightening the tension as the investigative threads converge on Abbey herself.
What makes “Abbey” so compelling isn’t just its blood-soaked narrative—it’s the clarity of its moral lens. Abbey’s victims are always men, and always monstrous in their own right: abusers, rapists, predators who prey on women. In another story, she might have been the villain; in Trouper’s hands, she becomes something else entirely—a force of reckoning. Her violence is both tragic and liberating, echoing centuries of repression and fear. Through her, Trouper reclaims the vampire archetype as a metaphor for survival, empowerment, and queer identity.
Trouper’s prose is deceptively simple but deeply effective. His dialogue carries much of the weight, grounding even the most supernatural scenes in human emotion. The minimalistic descriptions of setting leave space for readers’ imaginations to roam—whether through the mist-covered ruins of Whitby Abbey or the lonely farmhouse where Abbey’s life began. Yet, when he turns to violence, his language sharpens, offering grisly, cinematic detail that places readers directly in the moment. It’s this interplay of intimacy and brutality that makes the novel so addictive.
There are clear echoes of Anne Rice’s “Interview with the Vampire” and Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” throughout, yet “Abbey” feels entirely its own. Trouper pays homage to the gothic tradition while subverting it—replacing the tragic, tortured male immortal with a queer woman who refuses to hide. For readers accustomed to the tropes of gothic horror, this shift feels both refreshing and long overdue.
TG Trouper, whose previous works include the “Astrid” series, “The Branford Chronicles” (“Karla’s Story” and “The Burning”), “The Twinmere Beast”, “The Story – Be Careful What You Read”, “The Collaborator”, and “Perfect Strangers”, once again demonstrates his talent for genre-bending storytelling. His command of pacing, atmosphere, and character-driven tension ensures “Abbey” never drifts into imitation—it’s alive, immediate, and unapologetically bold.
Ultimately, “Abbey” is more than a vampire story. It’s about the hunger for truth, for freedom, for love in the face of condemnation. Beneath its gothic veneer beats a queer heart that refuses to be silenced. TG Trouper proves that even in a genre steeped in death, new life—and new light—can emerge.
Compact, evocative, and fiercely original, “Abbey” isn’t just a modern gothic—it’s a reawakening. It is available to purchase as an e-book via Amazon Kindle and a paperback via Amazon.
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