Hello, Fire Enthusiasts and Coffin Hoppers.
Thanks for stopping by. This is a big day for me and I appreciate you having
taken the time. My first novel, Dance on Fire, took twenty years start to
finish. That, however, is a very long story. If you just met me, you may not
know my story, but we’ll save it for another time. My second novel, which is
having its big release today, also had its share of drama. Suffice it to say
that I was unsure that this second book in my crossover vampire series would
ever see the light of day. I am overjoyed that it has, and I hope those of you
who have read my first novel, or simply like this genre, will share it with me.
I may have written it, but I was not alone in
the production. I want to thank the artist and author, Sue Midlock, for her work on the
cover; my old school mate, Mike Graham, and the author, Adriana Noir, for their beta reading. And I
want to thank the editor and author, Natalie Owens – who never would have allowed me to
begin this sentence with “and”. When you discover that this novel “sings”, I
assure you it was because of her hard work. I also thank the authors Marissa
Farrar and Carole Gill for their endless support and encouragement. There are
more people to thank, too, but this post is long already. It’s a fantastic
community of writers and readers out there, and I thank all of them (you).
During Coffin Hop 2012 which ends at Midnight on Halloween, I am giving away
several copies. In order to entice you to ask for one or to surf over to
Amazon.com (US or UK) and buy one, I offer the following tease…
“Nathaniel!” came a bloodcurdling scream. It
was an ancient voice, one Nathaniel knew all too well. It seemed to shake the
very foundation of this sad, dilapidated barn which had served as his home.
Nathaniel pushed away the layers of old musty
blankets and, taking one for himself, climbed to his feet. The sun wasn’t yet
strong in the early morning sky, but it was more than enough to destroy him.
Using the blanket as a shield, he approached a broken window that had fallen
into disrepair and, in fact, been neglected just like the abandoned barn. He
glanced outside and then quickly moved away, processing the gathered
information from the safety of the second floor shadows.
He had seen nothing of significance. Instead,
hearing only the early buzz of the new day, Nathaniel turned and headed down to
get a better look. Draping the blanket about him like a cape, he leapt from the
loft and nearly fell in a heap amongst the shadows at the foot of a rickety
ladder.
Rising to his feet, he turned toward the
place in the barn where he had left two sabers embedded through the
wall. Vincent, the great beast, was on the other side of that wall, the two
blades piercing his horrid flesh and pinning him there to await a terrible end.
Only, there was nothing there where the
scarred blades should have been poking through.
Nathaniel felt something inside him sink into
the pit of his very bowels, as if it were still possible to feel such things,
and he absently dropped the blanket. With little regard for his own safety, he
ran to the spot, literally throwing himself upon the wall. It shuddered as if
it might give away, but didn’t. Frantically, he searched, willing his vision to
penetrate the many cracks in the old boards and beams, but unable to see
anything except the outside world.
As if sensing the presence of undead flesh,
the sunlight—like tiny yet powerful laser-beams—prodded him, singeing whatever
flesh they happened upon. Skin snapped and cracked open, revealing gray meat; hairs
fluttered into tiny plumes and floated off into the morning air.
By the time that Nathaniel realized what was
happening to him, he was already in awful shape. He winced at the pain and the
smell of himself coming undone, but didn’t immediately retreat to safety. Numb
to the destruction, he worried about more devastating concerns. His thoughts
quickly turned to Barbara, Michael and their children, not to mention Vanessa
and Mark.
Ultimately, he did retreat, but not for
self-preservation. He was still hunting for Vincent.
Nathaniel could pick up no trace of Vincent’s
presence. He could only smell the horrible odor of his own flesh burning about
him. He moved right and left, still frantically looking for any sign of the other
vampire, yet finding none.
Eventually, Nathaniel’s panic led him to
another neglected window. It was covered in thick cobwebs, but not enough to
keep him from seeing the sign that tore into him far worse than any measure of
sunlight.
In the clearing, which had once stood as a
driveway to the old barn but was now overrun with weeds and dead tree branches,
lay the US Calvary Sabers. They had been cast aside. Nathaniel threw himself
upon the window frame, letting a wave of sheer horror wash over him. The
stained and filthy glass cracked, but he took little notice of it.
There was no sign of Vincent.
How he had managed to get free, Nathaniel
didn’t know. He only knew that he was. It had taken the combined strength of
many to subdue him, but apparently it wasn’t enough to slay him. Perhaps the
vampire couldn’t be destroyed, and there was nothing standing in his way. He
would kill them all, to be sure. He would avenge himself upon each and every
one of them.
And he would savor doing it.
You don’t know how much of a tease I really was just now,
but I hope you will get your hands on a copy at some point and see just what I
mean about that.
This has been a crazy trip, getting to this day. Thanks
for sharing it with me. Thanks for being supportive and encouraging, or for
just being a friend.
We’ll talk soon.
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