Roxanne Rhoads: Interview and Giveaway with October Weeks

What inspired you to become an author?

My love of reading led me to become a writer. I honestly believe that without my voracious appetite for books, the desire to write would never have blossomed.

Do you write in different genres?

Yes. I write romance—both paranormal and contemporary—under the name Libby Bishop.

If yes which is your favorite genre to write?

I love both! The romance gives me some time away from the dark fantasy/horror.

How did you come up with the title for your latest book?

There are three different types of vampires in my book. The Damned are one of those breeds. Since that breed plays so heavily in my main characters life—past and present—it seemed natural to title the book after them.

Do you title the book first or wait until after it’s complete?

Normally the titles come after I start writing. Once I have the basic premise of the book and a handle on the main character’s personality, the title of the book comes to me.

What books/authors have influenced your life?

Stephen King, Bram Stoker, Clive Barker, Anne Rice, Terry Brooks, JRR Tolkien…I could go on forever, LOL.

The book that led me to loving the paranormal and supernatural was Salem’s Lot, and to this day it’s one of my favorite novels.

I read that and The Hobbit at least twice a year.

What book are you reading now?

I’m currently rereading the Demons of Oblivion series by Skyla Dawn Cameron. I’m on book three now—Lineage.

Who designed the cover of your latest book?

Jay Aheer! She is AWESOME!!!

Do you have a song or playlist (book soundtrack) that you think represents this book?

The Damned was written almost entirely to the albums of Evanescence. Their albums Fallen and The Open Door were on repeat.

The Damned

October Weeks

Genre: Dark urban fantasy

Publisher: Evernight Publishing

Date of Publication: March 12, 2015

ASIN: B00UESEIJW

Word Count: 69,000

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Book Description:

Eight years ago, slayer Tuck Houston lost two of her closest friends to a Damned vampire named Josef Dragos—a beast who traded the sun for darkness and blood. She’s been hunting him since the day she walked into the carnage he created. But Josef has hidden himself well in the underground, from both slayers and other vampires.

When slayers around the globe start disappearing in a familiar pattern—Josef’s pattern—she’s put on the hunt. And despite the painful memories and very real threat to her future that come with tracking him down, Tuck is certain of one thing: she is going to make Josef Dragos wish he’d never been born.

Available at Amazon

Excerpt:

Tuck Houston casually strolled through the front doors of the ritzy hotel with a warm smile on her face, her hoodie and jeans soaked through from the rain. “Wasn’t expecting the downpour,” she said as she neared the front desk, cringing a bit inside as her boots left a bit of mud on the carpet.

The clerk chuckled as he regarded her. “I don’t think anyone was—forecast didn’t say anything about rain.”

“Damn weathermen can’t be trusted.” She laughed as she made her way to the elevator and clicked the button.

“Apparently not!”

When the elevator doors opened a few moments later, she said, “Have a good night.”

“You as well.”

When the doors opened again, she made her way to her quarry’s room, letting herself in with the key she’d obtained the day before. Digital keys were much harder to obtain than the old metal keys smaller hotels or motels used. She’d charmed the male clerk into giving her a key so she could surprise her “lover.”

The room was empty, of course. As he’d done the night before, her target was having a “drink” at the bar before retiring to his room, courtesy of some idiot human. Even the Damned couldn’t kill everyone they fed from—got suspicious after a while, to humans and slayers.

Walking across the high-end hardwood floors spread over the entire room, Tuck sat herself down on a chair, kicking her wet boots up on the edge of the bed and placing her pure silver knives on her thighs, which had been sheathed at her waist under her hooded sweatshirt. They weren’t her favorite weapons, but they were best for close contact.

She’d been tracking Samuel Bellows for a little over six weeks, from Boston to San Francisco—the city she was now in. He was responsible for the killing of seven little girls, drinking them dry of blood then abandoning their bodies in the woods. She could practically taste his death on her tongue.

But those girls were not the reason she was after him. His power had lingered at the scenes of several missing slayers—she planned on having a nice, bloody chat with him about that.

Footsteps jarred the quiet about twenty minutes later. Samuel’s footsteps. No human would have heard his steps, but she was more than human—slayers had a predators’ hearing, and she clearly heard the delight in his gait. He had a new target, he had human blood on his tongue, and—she smiled to herself—he had no idea what was in his room.

The key card slid in the lock, the door clicked, and into the darkness of the room came Samuel Bellows—five-foot-ten, a bit heavyset, and reeking of glee.

He was a dead man.

She held her position patiently as he turned on the lights. The look of surprise in his gray eyes when he saw her was so comical that she actually laughed. “Good evening, Samuel. The name’s Tuck Houston. But you can call me Ripper, if you’d like.”