As I write this from my car in my school's parking lot, the thought of vampires and my YouTube show--Blood Talk--and the recent horror-themed podcast I've done with J.A. Ironside and M.E. Vaughan has brought to light (ha! puns!) my love for vampires and all fantastic creatures/monsters.
I'll start with Vampires as that's what I write/talk the most about:
People often ask me why I chose to write about Vampires, and my answer always is: I didn't choose to write about Vampires; they chose me. Cliche, I know, but true.
As I've said on this blog before, my mother is to blame (or thank) for my avid interest in all things Dark. She would watch all the old horror movies while pregnant with me, and I guess some of it rubbed off on the little premature baby inside.
Anyway, Vampires are hypnotic, sexy, cruel, damned, monstrous, needy, and, I think, necessary.
I believe that's why I enjoy writing about them so much: I see myself--and other people--in their monstrous, damned, blood-needing ways. It's easy to relate to them, at least to me, and I draw from everyday experience as I write my brand of Vampire.
What is my brand of Vampire? Take a glimpse with An excerpt from BOOK 1: THE DARK WORLD:
He smelled her. The rich scent of lilac and freshly drawn blood reached his nose in the cold air, the ever-lingering scent of putrid beast... He turned just in time to see the door swing open, and there she stood, a hand wrapped around the old handle, a strange, dark blue cloak over her shoulders. She stared through the night, and her brown eyes found him the smile slow to grace her lips. “Alone?” she whispered, her voice reaching his ears quite easily as he stepped into the clearing.
Her beauty, her hunger... Yes, she was quite the formidable Vampire, Eleanor Black.
Xavier understood immediately why Dracula had sent them to her. “I believe so,” he said softly, stepping forward into the cabin as she turned and walked toward two tattered armchairs that faced a small fireplace, the fire burning low within its grate.
He watched as she took a seat in one farthest from the door and closed her eyes. She waved a hand, allowing the door to close behind him, but how curious it was the smell of the cold night air dispersed as she did this, but the horrid stench of Lycan did not.
“Xavier... Christian wished to feed?” she whispered, bringing his mind back to the here and now.
He gazed upon her, seeing her closed eyes, her long wavy black hair resting against her shoulders and chest as her head remained back against the chair, exhaustion radiating off every pore. What on Earth had she been doing to cause such utter depletion? Did she not acquire blood?
“Yes,” he said after a time of staring, knowing full well she could have heard their entire conversation if she so chose.
“It’s for the best…he would not take kindly to the news I have prepared....”
“And that would be?”
She opened her eyes, and yes, even against the small light of the fire, her weakness could not be denied: she was starving. “What we need to fight these beasts that threaten our quiet existence with the human world,” she answered.
He stepped forward, stopping just beside the vacant armchair, mind rapt with just what that would be, when she said, “Forgive me. I haven’t fed all night. I am feeling…a bit out of sorts.”
“A Lycan... Did you fight one, Eleanor?” he asked. Surely, a Lycan had remained here—the smell was quite overpowering now.
She stared at him, the disbelief within her eyes apparent as she sat up in the old chair. “No,” she breathed, “no, I didn’t. I just... I haven’t fed, that is all.”
Xavier’s mind rang with her words, before he decided that she had to be telling the truth; Eleanor Black never lied. “Very well,” he said. He moved to sit in the free armchair beside her, pulling back the sleeves of his cloak and white shirt. The pale of his skin illuminated further by the orange light of the low fire, he rested it over the chair for her to see. “Take my blood.”
They are blood drinkers, they do not deny that, and they move forward as best they can--but most importantly, being the creatures they are. They never shy away from their nature.
And that's an important distinction to make, at least for me. They do not try and hide behind whatever vestige of humanity they may have lost in their transition. They are monsters--and it makes me love them more.
Not a "love" kind of love, more of a "these maddening assholes are damaged, ruined, and messing everything up!" ;)
And I'm enjoying the reviews of The Dark World: Book 1 so far where the reviewers have said they enjoy the "otherness" of the Vampires and the other creatures, which just thrills me that it is gotten at all.
I guess as an "other," myself, it comes easy.
Whatever the case, tune in soon for another post on those monsters Vampires hate: Lycans!
With Blood and Love,