Saturday, June 16, 2012

Spotlight on Bandit Creek Books: Twice Shy


This week's spotlighted title is Twice Shy

Twice Shy 
Bandit Creek Erotic Romance
June 1, 2012

Leaving Bandit Creek was the best thing Stacy Jones ever did. Returning was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

Stace ran away at 16, eight years ago. She now has a stable life with people that love and care for her. Except there's one important piece missing - the truth behind her identity.

To solve this mystery, she must go back to Bandit Creek and confront the one person who has the answers. Mary Jones, her mother.

She's hoping to get in and out of dodge without running into the guy that stomped the crap out of her heart. Because Stacy doesn't know which one will require the most courage. Finding the truth or facing her first love.



About the Author - Jill Christie

Jill has always loved writing and reading. And she has always been curious about sex.

When she was young, she would try to discover things about sex by trying to find the naughty bits in the books she was reading.

Exasperated that Nancy Drew didn't do anything with Ned Nickerson, she moved onto more adult fare. And was confused as all the sex scenes were behind closed doors. Or worse, the prose was filled with euphemisms that didn't make any sense (especially when you didn't have intimate knowledge of the equipment involved).

Besides Jilly Cooper, she was pretty unsuccessful at finding out (from books) how sex really worked.

Many, many years later she discovered the joys of erotic fiction. She had all ready figured out how sex worked by then, but enjoyed the variety of situations and positions, not to mention the numerous perspectives.

Then she started writing it. Her world has never been the same since.

'Twice Shy' is Jill Christie's first published work. Check out her website. Or you can follow her (slightly) less prurient alter ego, Jill C Flanagan on twitter (@JillCFlanagan).

Chapter One

The weathered ‘Bandit Creek Welcomes You’ sign appeared by the side of the road. Stacy wished she had a shotgun to blow it away.

Westcott noticed her tension even though his eyes were searching for the exit from the highway. “It’s all good, lovey.”

Stacy slanted a frown at West and raised an eyebrow. He chuckled, knowing she hated the phrase. Annoying her would lessen her unease.

Stacy gritted her teeth at well-worn clichés and lies. She liked the truth, even if painful. She preferred being open and honest, but hardly ever blunt. Her voice was always soft and clear, like she bathed it in honey.

At first glance, she looked trapped in the 70’s: a hippy chick/new-age wannabe. Upon closer inspection, the tailoring became apparent. Gauzy or gently flowing dresses and skirts and shirts, always nipped in at the waist and molding perfectly around her bust. She was a curvy 50’s pin-up in a tailored 70’s wardrobe. West was a young man during the era, and the clothes were ugly then and tacky now. Not on Stacy. Somehow it worked on her.

“I’m reverting back to my sixteen-year-old self. Pretty scary, West.”

“We talked about this…”

She cut him off. “My head is aware I’m not being logical. You know the backwashy taste in your mouth? Not quite nausea, but close?” West nodded. Stacy continued, “I know I should be over it. I know I feel this way because it’s the way I reacted the last time I was in this hellhole. Putting the knowledge into practice is another thing, though.”

West looked over at his Stacy and wished he could have done this trip for her. “Well, fake it ’til you make it.”

Stacy punched him in the arm, and her lips curved upwards slightly. She knew he was pissing her off on purpose. Poking at the obvious buttons. West was putting her in cliché purgatory as a diversionary tactic. She forced a smile again. “Love you, you old bastard.”

West clasped her hand and squeezed with a brief pulse before he downshifted and took the first exit into her past.

Welcome back.

They turned into the Super 8 and Stacy silently let out her breath. They weren’t staying at The Golden Nugget, where everyone gossiped about your meal choice at dinner, who you ate with, and how many times you went to the bathroom.

They had only decided a week ago the trip had to be done. She’d never wanted or expected to return.
She had become a runaway at sixteen. She had been lucky; she had somewhere to go. The new beginning turned out to be the best thing for Stace. She had found somewhere she could be herself. Not be labelled a freak.

She hadn’t paid attention when West checked in. As they were walking into the hotel room she asked, “Are we in two rooms or one?”

“Adjoining, sweet.” West made a Vanna White-like move to illustrate the door. Much campier than his normal behavior. He was doing everything to lighten the situation. Stacy’s heart melted at the thought. He put his valise on the bed and stated, “If we manage to get what we want in a day or two, Tim won’t join us. If we take longer, then…”

Stacy nodded. Tim and West couldn’t bear to be apart for long. Tim, especially, suffered in West’s absence. 
“How about I go next door while you give him a call? A full five bars on my phone means the coverage isn’t bad here.”

West shook his head. “I’ve texted him. I’ll ring him later, he’s busy with the club tonight since we’re away.”

That meant West was saving the conversation so the talk would turn into a long, lusty and private call. One with orders and maybe a little cock-and-ball torture in store for Tim. Stacy smiled, and added a bit of self-pity to the ton of emotions already roiling inside of her. Wistful and hoping she would one day be rewarded with the type of relationship Tim and West had. They’d been together for over ten years. A Master and submissive, who co-owned the club where Stacy worked managing the bar staff.

They were the gag-and-vomit type of happy 99% of the time. At other times they were committed and working out whatever they needed to. Stacy had benefited from their domestic bliss and was pleased for them. Except when she was navel-gazing and self-pitying, anyway.

“After, we’ll demolish a bottle of wine and wait for Sarge. Then we can get a plan of attack.”

Stacy nodded, breathing in deeply. She centered herself, took her time and became calmer, trying to let go of the anxiety. She emulated her Domme mindset by putting a steel rod into her spine and bringing her shoulders back. Reasserting her identity. Stacy was Miss S. Not forgetting who she used to be, but welcoming who she became.

West crinkled his warm hazel eyes, gazing knowingly at her. His look conveyed his belief in her. Confidence and confrontation were her strengths now. She hoped the surprise attack they planned to launch on “the bitch” would give them what they needed for Stacy to move on.

Sarge was a key component of the plan.

With her balance intact, Stacy nodded and gave West the first genuine smile since they’d decided on the trip to Bandit Creek. “I can’t wait ’til Sarge gets here. It’s been months. I wish he’d just move down to California with us and forget about the Powder Horn Saloon. I’m sure he would get a good price. He needs to sell and retire. Or something.”

West didn’t comment. Didn’t have to. Sarge would do what he wanted when he wanted to, no sooner. All three of them at had at one time tried to convince their favorite ex-army blowhard to move down. Sarge became intractable when questioned, and refused to tell them why he preferred to stay in Bandit Creek. It continued to be a mystery, but to be tackled another day. There would be enough to deal with soon without worrying over Sarge’s secrets.

Once they both settled, Stacy re-entered West’s room through the adjoining door and cracked open the bottle of wine. They talked about nothing important avoiding the subject until Sarge came. They thankfully didn’t need to wait long.

Stacy watched Sarge as he moseyed in, taking his time, taking the place in with his eyes, ever calculating. Sarge looked the same as always. His face had been stuck in middle-age ever since she’d known him, his skin weathered, deep smile lines bracketing his lips of his weathered skin. It had always amazed her how a man with thinning hair and pale blue eyes radiated such calm and self-assuredness. Sarge was appealingly grizzled, with his muscular frame, and was shorter than average. But he looked taller due to the way he carried himself.

West, aka Westcott Knowles, was six feet and wiry. With hazel eyes and silky coffee-colored hair that was worn slightly too long, giving him a rakish air. He was meticulously casual. Tim always complained to Stacy how long West took to get ready in the morning. He looked younger than his forty-seven years, his sprayed-on tan giving him a glowing visage.

Stacy thought about making a little small talk but decided to just get down to business and asked, “She still drinking most of her paycheck?”

“Nothin’ much has changed, ’cept she’s getting older. Still looks pretty hot considerin’ how much she’s abused her body. More cougar-like now. Goin’ after the younger ’uns.”

Not surprising. “She have a regular guy in her life right now? And do we have to worry about him?”

Stacy referred to Mary’s talent for playing the damsel in distress. A certain type of man liked rescuing women. It was her mother’s favorite flavor of man. LOVE THIS SENTENCE Mary had a way of making the most ludicrous story plausible. Which meant if Mary went into the Powder Horn to pick up her pay, and she had a knight-in-a-shining-cowboy-hat in tow, the situation could easily become unmanageable. Mr. Cowboy Knight usually believed whatever Mary said.

Violence would ensue. The knight always fought for the maiden. Until he wised up, anyway.

The last thing Stacy, West or Sarge wanted was for the reunion to devolve into a physical fight. Their goal was Stacy’s birth certificate. Mary’s drama had to be managed.

Sarge answered, “She just broke up with a guy. He got sick of her shit. They sometimes still hook up. Billy shouldn’t be there. And if he is, he won’t be any trouble.”

Problem was, Mary hated being cornered. If the male du jour wasn’t around to defend her, rescuing her from persecution with fists or bluster, she would revert to her alternate weapons: manipulation, lies, guilt, evasion and even cruelty.

Stacy had the ability to handle those. She’d had sixteen years of practice. In the intervening time, her natural dominance and self-assurance had been nurtured. But the thought of confronting dear old Mom made her tired. The clock showed ten p.m., and she’d only had one glass of wine. Exhaustion filled her bones with an achiness which mimicked the sensation of ’flu.

Stacy stood and walked over to the two of them. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to go to bed.” She kissed and hugged each of them and whispered “Love you” into West’s ear and “Thank you” into Sarge’s.

After Stacy left, Sarge made eye contact with West and shook his head. “This could be a clusterfuck, Westcott. Mary an’ the truth don’t reside in the same zip code.”

West sighed. “I’m worried for Stacy’s mental well-being. This is going to be difficult for her, but she needs a resolution to this. I hope Mary cooperates for Stacy’s peace of mind.”

“An’ if you cain’t get the answers Stacy needs?”

West remembered those first few months after Stacy had come to live with them. She hadn’t even owned enough belongings to fill an overnight case.

After a time, Tim had started the process of ordering a copy of Stacy’s birth certificate. They found no record of a Stacy Jones born in Montana on or near her birth date. Further investigation from a private detective revealed the same with a wider search. This weekend was about finding out the truth. No matter what. Either way West and Tim would take care of their own. Stacy was their family.

They had found ways around the situation. They had managed to get her into a high school with a bit of finagling. Work-wise, she worked under the table for them. But both he and Tim wanted their Stacy to have the freedom to do anything she chose to do. West and Tim both considered her their daughter.

“Tim and I discussed this extensively. We will try to obtain a ghosted identity if this doesn’t work. We’ve got a lot of connections. Hopefully it’s a matter of paying the right money to the wrong people.”

Sarge stood. “We know she’s gotta helluva lot of potential. She shoulda gone ta college. Papers like that’re mebbe good for regular jobs. Wouldn’t stand up to security screenin’s though. No passport without frettin’ about gettin’ caught. I know Mary shouldn’ have ever had a kid. She’s not a terrible person, but she did some truly horrible things to Stacy. I hav ta get to work, make sure Mary shows up on time and Cotton don’t intimidate the customers.” He stretched and went to walk to the door. Stopped halfway and turned back.

West raised an eyebrow at him.

“There’s ’nother potential problem. Brendan’s in town. Surer than farts from a cow he’ll find out our Stace is here.”

West expelled an annoyed breath and said sadly, “This is going to be even harder for our girl. My poor, poor little girl. As if she doesn’t have enough to deal with.”



Friday, June 15, 2012

“Girl on Vampire-Girl Naughtiness” Guest Blog and Giveaway with the Authors of Blood and Whiskey





Girl on Vampire-Girl Naughtiness”

Here’s one of our favorite reviews from Amazon.  AJBpdx shares the top 10 things they like about Blood and Whiskey:


10. Vampires

9. Cowboys

8. Awesome love story

7. Hot vampires 
6. A consciousness realm called the Meta where Vampires hang
5. Nice nod to Oregon
4. There's a blood farm in it!
3. MacGyver-style weapons
2. Kick-ass female lead with an even more bad-ass side-kick
1. Girl on Vampire-Girl naughtiness


Character Envy



Writing together, especially romances, can make for strange jealousies.

By Clark Hays and Kathleen McFall

In 1999, we came up with a radical plan to save our romance: write together. We had just reunited after an epic break up that required a several-year cooling off period. When a not-so-chance meeting rekindled the flames, we decided to channel some of the excess passion into a joint creative project to hopefully of avoiding total combustion.

The Cowboy and the Vampire: A Darkly Romantic Mystery (Midnight Ink, 2010) — and a newly entangled romance — was the result. This May, we finished our second book, Blood and Whiskey, and we learned something important: our characters lead far more romantic lives than we do.

Of course, they’re also dealing with murderous vampire hordes, cold-blooded killers straight out of the old west, biblical prophecies, undead race wars and the care and feeding of an overly-sensitive dog cow dog named Rex. But even with all of that, and even setting aside the fact they are from very different worlds — she needs human blood to live, he’s more of whiskey drinker — Tucker and Lizzie have a romance for the ages.

It may be petty, but we’re kind of jealous.

And not just of the main characters. Elita, the fierce, sexy vampire warrior sworn to protect Lizzie, has seduced her way through half the undead world and left a trail of drained human bodies — stone cold dead but with smiles on their faces — stretching back thousands of years. In Blood and Whiskey, she finds herself sandwiched happily between a handsome Russian vampire, Rurik, and his supermodel human consort, Virote.

Us? Well, we find ourselves sandwiched between deadlines.

Early on, we figured that when romantic partners wrote together, it would involve far more reclining on satin sheets, sipping champagne and whispering sweet plotlines to one another. The truth is far less, well, romantic. Here’s what a typical exchange between us sounds like (names changed to protect the not-so-innocent):

Chuck: Did you finish your chapter yet?



Cathy: Almost, did you finish yours?



Chuck: I need about two hundred more words and a better description of the thing.



Cathy: What thing? 



Chuck: The thing. In the mountains. With Elita.



Cathy: Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Should we talk about the next chapters?



Etc., until bed time.

Compare that to a scene from Blood and Whiskey featuring Tucker and Lizzie:

“Do you ever, you know, take a look when I’m dead? Does it turn you on to have a naked corpse next to you?”

“Woman, don’t be gross.”

“I’d probably take a peek. I mean, I do anyway, at least when you are sleeping. What’s the difference? It’s perfectly natural.” She nipped at his neck playfully.

“It’s un-natural. That’s why they call you un-dead.”

“Is what I’m feeling now un-horny?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the pregnancy hormones getting you all riled up.”

She unbuttoned her shirt and slipped his hand under, molding it around her breast and they both sighed.  “You sure you haven’t felt me up when I’m cold and dead? I wouldn’t mind. And I wouldn’t know it if you, you know, did stuff to me.”

“No. I mean, yeah, I’m sure. I’d like to do stuff to you now though.”

“I like that idea.”

Is it any wonder we’re a little jealous?

Still, just in case it sounds like we’re complaining, we don’t write all the time. And the passion we channel into our characters has to come from somewhere. 





Blood and Whiskey 
A Cowboy and Vampire Thriller 

by Clark Hays and Kathleen McFall 

Publication date: May 1, 2012 

Fiction, Trade Paperback (362 pages) $14.95; e-book $4.99 
ISBN: 978-0-9838200-1-7; 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012902814 

SUMMARY 

Wanted: Lizzie Vaughan, Dead or Alive 

Relationships are always hard, but for a broke cowboy and a newly turned Vampire, true love may be lethal. 

After barely surviving an undead apocalypse in The Cowboy and the Vampire, Tucker and Lizzie hightail it back to quirky LonePine, Wyoming (population 438), to start a family. But she’s got a growing thirst for blood and he’s realizing that mortality ain’t all it’s cracked up to be when your girlfriend may live forever. With a scheming Vampire nation hot on their boot heels and a price on her head, how far will Lizzie and Tucker go to protect their unlikely love? 

Blending evolution, religion and an overly sensitive cow dog named Rex, Blood and Whiskey drags the Vampire myth into the modern west, delivering double-barreled action, heart-pounding passion and wicked humor.



ABOUT THE AUTHORS 

Clark Hays grew up in Montana in the shadow of the Tobacco Root Mountains. In addition to his fiction work, he is a cowboy, a published poet and occasional food critic. Recently, he was nominated for Pushcart Prize for short fiction and not so recently for a Rhysling award for poetry. Clark brings a deep knowledge about the modern west, weaponry, country music and existentialism to his writing. 

Kathleen McFall grew up in the heart of Washington, D.C. She worked as a petroleum geologist and, later, as a journalist, and has published hundreds of articles about scientific research, energy and natural resources. An interest in the overlap of science and mysticism are an essential aspect of her fiction writing. She received an Oregon Literary Arts Fellowship for fiction writing. 





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Thursday, June 14, 2012

Guest Blog and Giveaway with Mysti Parker





An Evening with the Cast of Serenya’s Song, #1: Serenya
Setting: The Wasted Witch

Come in and have a seat. Could I get you a mug of our famous Barnaby’s Ale? Never heard of it, huh? Take a sip, and I bet you’ll want a refill!

Told you.

Dad’s usually the one greeting the customers. I’m more at home over there behind my piano. If you stay long enough, you can hear me play.

I’d take my gloves off, but it’s chilly in here and…who’s my dad? You haven’t heard of him, either? He’s Douglas Barnaby, a human like you, though a bit older and plumper.

Don’t worry; he’s back in the storage room now, so I can talk about him. See, until I was twenty-one years old, he was the only man in my life. Things were so simple back then, even though I knew he wasn’t my real father, and even though children tormented me about my, um, birth defect.

Yes, I know that doesn’t sound very simple, but Dad and I were really happy, just the two of us. We laughed a lot. Still do. I’ve helped him here ever since I could carry a tray. There’s never a dull moment. Sure, people gossip about me. They speculate about my birth parents. Everyone knows my mother was a wood elf, but no one, not even Dad, knows who my father is. Their stares make my skin crawl.

I guess you’re wondering why I stay here in Summerwind with all the gossipmongers lurking in plain sight. Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, the countryside is gorgeous. So many places I can set up my easel and try to recreate the landscape. Oh, the townspeople have their faults, of course, but underneath, they’re decent people. Most of them.

See that man over there at the corner table? Yes, the six-foot-four inch, sharply-dressed human. He’s the Earl of Summerwind, Sebastian Crowe. You guessed it. He’s my husband. Which makes me Lady Crowe. 

And now you’re wondering why a titled woman spends her nights working in a tavern. Sebastian doesn’t understand it, either. How can I explain that this place, where Dad and I spent so many happy years, is more like home than Crowe Manor?

I really wanted Sebastian’s estate to feel like home. I really wanted him when he walked into the bar six years ago. Before long, he asked for my hand in exchange for paying off some of Dad’s debts. I know Dad didn’t want to agree, but I was so in love with him. We were quite happy together for a couple of years, but I’ve never been able to give him an heir. And now…when he drinks too much, he’s, um, difficult to deal with.

But, there are bigger problems at my doorstep, like that incredibly handsome wood elf that just walked in. 

Let’s hope Sebastian didn’t see me staring. Oh, here’s Dad. That’s my cue to play. Enjoy your ale.

****
Want to know more about Serenya and the handsome wood elf that stepped into the tavern? One lucky commenter will get a PDF or Kindle copy of Serenya’s Song, so be sure to leave your email address if you’d like a chance to win!






Serenya’s Song
Tallenmere Book Two
by Mysti Parker

Blurb:

In the fantasy world of Tallenmere, no one ever said love was easy...

Serenya Crowe may be a half-elf commoner, but she's no ordinary woman. With the ability to interpret dreams, and a birth defect that forces her to wear gloves, she’s endured small-town gossip and the cruelty of her husband, Sebastian, The Earl of Summerwind. All she's ever wanted is to live a quiet life and raise a family. When she meets the new stranger in town, her world and her heart, are turned upside down.

Wood-elf Jayden Ravenwing is an ex-secret agent who wants nothing more than to forget matters of the heart. He left the bustle of Leogard and his failed marriage to make a fresh start in Summerwind. He never planned to fall in love again, especially with the enchanting Serenya Crowe.

When a strange portal opens on the Crowe property at the edge of town, Jayden is thrown into an investigation, knowing that if he fails, Serenya and everyone in Summerwind may die.

Together, he and Serenya must overcome an ancient evil, and their own inner demons, to save Summerwind and find the love they've always dreamed of.



Author Bio:

Mysti Parker is a full time wife, mother of three, and a writer. Her first novel, A Ranger’s Tale was published in January, 2011 by Melange Books, and is the first in a fantasy romance series. Mysti reviews speculative fiction for SQ Magazine and is the proud writer of Unwritten, a blog voted #3 for eCollegeFinder’s Top Writing Blogs award.

Links:



Twitter: @MystiParker


A Ranger’s Tale: 
Melange Books, AmazonBarnes and NobleSmashwords

Serenya’s Song: Melange BooksAmazonBarnes and Noble

Excerpt from Serenya's Song by Mysti Parker




Excerpt from  Chapter One, when Jayden first spies Serenya as he steps into The Wasted Witch:

I stepped through the door. Soft piano music and the voice accompanying it—angelic, rich, soulful—stilled my footsteps. I finally made my way inside and slid onto a stool at the bar. The bartender, an aging human with a partly bald head and pot-belly, asked me what I wanted.

 “Gingerroot tea, please.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the ebony-haired girl singing at the piano.
“That’s my daughter, Serenya. Lovely, isn’t she?” He retrieved a teapot behind him, added water, and set it on a small stove.

 “She is.”

 “Where is the one who holds the key? Where is the one who’s made for me?”

I’d heard the song she sang before, but the words had never resonated within me like this. I shifted in my seat. If I listened long enough, I feared her voice could unearth every secret I had. But, I had no intention of leaving now. I liked a good challenge.

“I’ve journeyed high, I’ve journeyed low, to heaven above and hell below.”

 Slightly pointed ears indicated she was half-elven, but she didn’t resemble the proprietor at all. I studied her white skin, pale as the ivory piano keys she commanded so well. Lustrous, black hair fell in waves over her shoulders. Rose red lips wrapped around each word of the song. An irresistible light sparkled in her eyes. Pure joy. I knew that feeling all too well. Very few women had even come close to understanding my passion for music. A familiar longing settled over me like an invisible net.

 The teakettle whistled. The bartender filled my cup. “Haven’t seen you before. Don’t get many wood-elves down here. What’s your name?”

 “Jayden Ravenwing.”

 “Douglas Barnaby. Welcome to the Wasted Witch. New in town or just passing through?”
 “Just moved from Leogard.”

“Then, welcome to Summerwind, too. It’s just a spot in the road, but I think you’ll like it here.”

 “Thanks.”

 He nodded and walked away to serve other customers. The spicy aroma of fresh ginger met my nose as I sipped and listened. Maybe this would be a decent town to reside in after all.

first novel, A Ranger’s Tale was published in January, 2011 by Melange Books, and is the first in a fantasy romance series. Mysti reviews speculative fiction for SQ Magazine and is the proud writer of Unwritten, a blog voted #3 for eCollegeFinder’s Top Writing Blogs award.

Links:



Twitter: @MystiParker


A Ranger’s Tale: 
Melange Books, AmazonBarnes and NobleSmashwords

Serenya’s Song: Melange BooksAmazonBarnes and Noble

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Why Vampires Are Drool Worthy




Why Vampires are Drool-Worthy
By Erica Manfred
           
I fell in love with vampires in the 1980’s when I read Interview with a Vampire by Anne Rice.   The language, the romanticism, the concept of an entire vampire society who lived for centuries and were cursed with having to kill to live was enthralling.   The sexiness of Rice’s vampires also made them irresistible.   What red-blooded American fan of paranormal romance doesn’t fantasize about being ravished by Lestat?
I originally envisioned  Interview with a Jewish Vampire as a humorous essay, a funny valentine to Anne Rice’s classic.    I imagined the scenario of  a Jewish girl meeting a Hasidic vampire on Jdate and interviewing him.  He explains that he was a rabbi turned into a vampire by Dracula, an anti-semite, who thought it was a good joke to turn a Hasidic rabbi into a vampire because he’d be forced to drink blood which isn’t kosher.   I mentioned the piece to a literary agent who repped a lot of paranormal novels  at a journalist’s conference and she got very enthusiastic and told me to turn it into a novel.   I sat on that idea for a while, too long a while as it happened.   I wrote the novel with the encouragement of my writer’s critique group, but by the time I finished it, the same agent refused to look at it because she’d decided she wanted to move on.  She didn’t want to be identified as the agent who only represents vampire novels anymore. 
  With my usual finger on the  pulse of the market, I tried to sell  Interview with a Jewish Vampire,  just when editors had decided that the vampire craze was over.   Never mind that my book was a parody of vampire romances with a Jewish twist, which gave it a fresh take on the genre.   If the publishing world has declared vampires over,  they cannot be resuscitated except maybe by Anne Rice, who invented the genre and whose fans would buy the phone book if it had her name on it.   But even Anne herself has moved on from Lestat and her other vampires.   She’s dabbled in angels and is now writing about werewolves, for God’s sake.   If even Anne, the mother of all vampires, has deserted us what hope is left? 
            Is it true?  Have zombies, werewolves, angels, shapeshifters, witches, and other supernatural creatures taken over the fantasy market?   I say NO, vampires are NOT over.  The market for vampire fiction will never be saturated, just like the market for romantic fiction will never be saturated.  As long as paranormal romance is published, fans will be fascinated with vampires   Vampires as romantic heroes  are here to stay.    A 2008 article in Newsweek pointed out “the idea of vampire as artistic metaphor is as deathless as the creatures themselves.” 
Publishers Weekly agrees. In an article in the May 24th 2010 issue, Lucinda Dyer describes the undying popularity of vampire romance: “There's no new way to say it, except possibly en francais, the language of love. Paranormal is le dernier cri in the romance category—its hold on readers and publishers alike defies any logic or explanation. In its first year it was a phase, then it became a definite trend. Now, it's a sea change, with no evidence that the tide's waning.”
 There is a lot of speculation about the mass appeal of the vampire as romantic hero.  My take is that women (and girls) love bad boys, and up until recently bad boys in romantic fiction have mostly just been sullen and unavailable with a hint of danger.  The danger ante in our culture has been upped by the extremes of violence in television and other media—women who watch CSI are not easily scared or grossed out. Twenty-first century females are hardly delicate creatures anymore, so we’re demanding our bad boys be truly dangerous. Vampires are not only bad, they’re scary bad--natural born killers who are also lovable, sad and tragic. They take the bad boy archetype to a new, more thrilling, level.   However to be romantic heroes, bad boys must also have a good side.  Today’s vampires are noble; they struggle against their impulses to kill humans.  They’re also good-looking, gorgeous actually, since vampirism improves not only longevity but looks,  which is more than you can say for werewolves or zombies,  who are disgusting no matter how you spin it.    Vampires don’t kill people anymore, though they might take a taste of blood here and there.  Stephanie Meyer’s  Twilight invented the game-hunting “vegetarian” vampire.  Vamps are also devoted to the women they love. In Interview With a Jewish Vampire, my vampire, Sheldon, is a member of B.A., Bloodsuckers Anonymous which helps him control his bloodlust.   He’s also totally devoted to Rhoda, his human enamorata. 
Vampire novels are not just for teens either.  Since the 1976 when Interview with a Vampire started the whole trend, vampires have been popular with grown women as well as teenagers.  Anne Rice’s series is emphatically not YA.  The Twilight series is YA but has caught on with mothers—and grandmothers-- as well. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a classic TV series about high school kids, beloved by anyone who loves good witty writing. 
Just as vampires are here to stay, so is the lighthearted, humorous version of paranormal romance. Fans love their vampires in all varieties:  mystery, romance,  funny, dangerous, lovable.  I’m planning to turn Interview with a Jewish Vampire into a series, with the next installment entitled True Kosher Blood, a valentine to my favorite vampire TV series.    Fans, stay tuned.





Interview with a Jewish Vampire
by Erica Manfred

The last thing zaftig middle-aged journalist, Rhoda Ginsburg, expected when she signed up for JDate was to fall in love with a vampire. But when she meets drop-dead gorgeous Sheldon, a Hasidic vampire, she falls hard. She rationalizes that he may not be alive, but at least he’s Jewish. 

She learns that back in the nineteenth century Sheldon was a rabbi who was turned into a vampire by Count Dracula, an anti-Semite who got his kicks from turning Orthodox Jews into vampires because then they’d have to drink blood, which isn’t kosher. 

Soon after she meets Sheldon, she discovers her beloved mother, Fanny, is terminally ill, so she comes up with the crackpot idea of getting Sheldon to turn Fanny and her friends, known as “the goils,” into vampires. 

Once she becomes a vampire, Fanny tires of her boring life in Century Village, Florida, and, seeking thrills, she goes clubbing and disappears into the nightlife of South Beach in Miami. When Fanny and her goil posse  “go rogue” and start preying on the young, Rhoda and Sheldon must track them down to keep them from killing again. 

Interview with a Jewish Vampire turns vampire lore on its head, proving that not all vampires are young and beautiful and it IS possible to be undead and kosher.

About the Author:



Erica Manfred is a freelance journalist, humorous essayist, and author.   Her most recent book is the novel, Interview with a Jewish Vampire. She’s also authored two non-fiction self-help books, including most recently He’s History You’re Not; Surviving Divorce After Forty. Her articles and essays have appeared in Cosmopolitan, The New York Times Magazine, Ms., New Age Journal, Village Voice, Woman’s Day, SELF, Ladies Home Journal, and many other publications. Erica lives in Woodstock, New York with her Chihuahua, Shadow, and her daughter, Freda. Brought up by Jewish parents who spoke Yiddish but avoided religion, she got her Jewish education at the Woodstock Jewish Congregation which welcomes Jews from all backgrounds, from atheist to Orthodox, to vampire. Her website is www.ericamanfred.com, or visit www.jewishvampire.com


Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Immortals and Melodies






Immortals And Melodies 
Blood And Guitars #2 

Book Blurb: 

 "I found myself wishing for the power and whimsy of fairy tales. If only things were as simple as we’re led to believe as children. I remembered the story of Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. Both were saved by the power of a kiss, drawn out of their lifeless state to live happily ever after. Desperately, I bent and left a soft kiss on Trey’s lips. It was foolish. I knew that, but even that knowledge couldn’t prepare me for the agony that ripped at my heart when he didn’t respond." -Aurora 

Catalyst frontman Trey is no stranger to chaos, but even the life of a rock star couldn’t prepare him for the consequences of loving a vampire. Trey’s life is in danger; threatened by the very group he must join to stay alive. 

His struggle to continue his career and release a new album is marred bye vents that force him to go to a powerful Synod Elder for help. Aurora has to keep Trey alive until she can make him a vampire, but her own kind will stop at nothing to prevent it. 

The head of the Emissary is having her followed, and if she can’t figure out who is behind the violent attacks, Trey might not make it to the full moon. As Aurora battles her own kind, she’s also plagued by the risk she’s taking by changing Trey. 

Will her moon-given power be enough to carry Trey through the change, or will he be left floating in the wake of destruction?


Author Bio: 

Heather Jensen writes paranormal fantasy for teens and adults. She began writing her first book at the age of 16. She is an avid reader and loves anything vampire-related, but likes all kinds of fantasy. When she’s not writing she enjoys traveling, listening to music, going to concerts, playing guitar and spending time with friends and family. 

She is addicted to Oreos and White Knight drinks from Perks. Her favorite color is green and the uglier the shade the better. 

Heather lives in Southern Utah with her husband and son where she continues to write the Blood And Guitars series. 

The second book in the series, Immortals And Melodies has just been released on Kindle. 

Website www.heatherjensen.info 

To purchase the first book in the Blood And Guitars series in e-book or paperback, visit http://heatherjensen.info/about-the-book/shop/