Sorry Dawn

Blushing Books will be publishing "The Hickory Switch" yay! So I thought I'd get onto Dawn the Vampire Fucker but no. I should know better than to make plans.

Instead I'm working on post apocalyptic erotica this time. Which makes sense actually, if you know me. I'm one of those crazy survivalists, except since I don't have the gay hate, anti-choice, and religious issues I'm kind of an oddball in the realm of gun toting, food and toilet paper hoarders.

Speaking of which, I need to get more TP.

Tentatively named "Dark Angel". Or my dark angel. Or a dark angel. Or yellow 0163. I just don't know right now.

Dawn's Dilemma

The question of the day is, can I write a romance? It's not my bag of tricks you see, not that it would be any leap of logic to come to that conclusion if you've ever read any of my scribblings. My girls are love 'em and kick 'em to the curb sorts. Chloe may have loved Chuck but when he failed to stand up for her, she was out the door and fucking up his car before you could say wet shifter. Emma Adler is about her evolution from downtrodden, cringing doormat to the sort of girl who will kick your ass and steal your boyfriend.

And Dawn? Dawn is the ultimate black widow, the one the wannabes bow before and offer up gifts in hopes of getting to hang with her on Friday night. She fucks vampires to death for pete's sake, and I know it sounds horribly comic bookish to write it like that but Dawn is a weapon designed to kill the undead and there's nothing comical about her deployment. If anything, it's a bit gross. She isn't Buffy who kicked their asses while delivering witty quips just before plunging a wooden stake into their hearts. Dawn's power is triggered by a lust for revenge, and rather than fight her enemies she draws them helplessly to her like moths to a trailer park bug zapper. 

Vampires are not sparkly, benevolent beings who help angst riddled teens cope with high school. Fucking hell. They are the evil undead, think David from Lost Boys and Angelus from Buffy, or Ann Rice's Lestat, or Camilla and Goth of the Nosferatu clan. Ugly, giddily vicious, and unrepentant, delighting in the torment and torture of their victims. Sorta like Dawn is, actually.

The story before me is that a horrified Dawn finds she has fallen for one, which is problematic in two ways. One, she despises vampires for the destruction of everything she has ever loved, and two because sex between them would be the end of the twisted romance. 

It's a GOOD story, and I love Dawn as a character. I just hope I can do it justice. Doing my research this week on medieval Bulgaria circa 1300 to better understand where Dawn was born, and reborn; the migration of the Romani out of India and into Europe during the High Middle Ages; and getting to know Dixon Kane, the young vampire who turns Dawn's world upside down.

Meet Dawn

Dawn makes her first appearance in Sex and Honey, with "The Light of Dawn". I didn't see her coming until she was right in front of me, insisting I write her story, which I'm working on now.
The following is from The Light of Dawn.

   He was about to give up and move in on the bony blonde when it finally came to him, a delicate, seductive mixture of ocean spray and warm cinnamon that evoked long lost memories of his childhood. His eyes closed as he drank it in this new and heady incense, and as he let it take over his senses he felt the early stirrings of lust begin.

   Abandoning his barstool and bourbon he plunged into the pulsing crowd, ignoring the appreciative glances of the women he pushed past as the intoxicating aura drew him through the club. The shoving and bouncing bodies around him went unnoticed, drowned out by the deafening sound of blood pounding in his ears. As he burst through the sweaty mob and cleared the dance floor he found himself directly behind the source of the provocative scent.

   She swayed at the edge of the gyrating crowd with her back to him, her hair flowing in loose waves nearly to her waist. Captivated by the untamed mane of fire and sunlight that smoldered like hot coals under the club’s lights, he had to restrain himself from reaching out to wrap his fingers in it. She wore a simple linen shift reminiscent of medieval times, its only adornment an ornate leather corset with an ancient world map carved into it. Her tiny waist fell to modest hips and her legs were bare from the knees down.

   Before he could reach out to her she turned and fixed golden eyes upon him with an intensity that made his heart skip and his cock rear up against its restraints. He’d never seen eyes like hers, swirling gold with tiny sparkles of reds and oranges and pinks, and they made his breath catch in his throat. The club kids’ taste in exotic contacts was familiar to him but to date he’d only seen the vampire and zombie eyes, with the occasional cat’s eye or eight ball thrown in.  These were unique, breathtaking even. Of course they’re contacts, he chided himself. No one has eyes like that. They were bottled sunrise brewing in porcelain skin above a straight, fine nose and butterfly mouth, and then her lips parted to yield a shy smile and he found himself mesmerized.

   Wordlessly he held his hand out to her, his eyes never leaving hers. Without hesitation she slipped her slender hand in his, and as she did her heartbeat raced up his arm like a boiling tsunami, causing him to gasp in amazement. In the four hundred plus years he’d been hunting, not once had he experienced one like this. Her pulse flooded into him from the palm of her hand and he realized that he hadn’t just heard her heartbeat early but had actually felt it pounding in his ears. Astonished he realized the scent he had trailed was the aroma of her blood, and as he held her hand it filled his nostrils and excited him to the point his teeth ached. Saliva flowed unbidden as his hunger roared to life and demanded he take her immediately. It took every ounce of his not inconsiderable self-control to restrain himself from leaping onto her and devouring her right there on the dance floor, and he suspected he wouldn’t have been able to hold back at all if he hadn’t ripped his eyes away from hers at the last second....