Interview with Theresa Meyers, author of The Truth About Vampires

Hi everyone. Have you adjusted to the time change yet? We are, slowly. Makes you wonder if vampires hate this time of year? Less time for them to go hunting :-) #don'tneedgrouchyvamps

With us today is Theresa Meyers, author of The Truth About Vampires. What would happen if the world found out that vampires really existed? If you want to know the answer, you'll have to read the book. She is giving away a printed copy to one lucky commenter. Don't forget to leave your email address in your comment so we can contact you. This contest ends Saturday, March 26th at Midnight PST. Now, let's get to the interview.

PYN: What interested you most about writing?

Since about junior high, I found writing to be a fantastic way to express ideas. At first I thought I was going to be a journalist, then in college I looked for a major that I could use my writing no matter what industry I went into and ended up in public relations. But I’ve always been a story teller. I just get to make up the stuff in my stories now instead of reporting about other people’s stories. And let me tell you truth is sometimes stranger than fiction.

PYN: Who is your favorite author?

Not a fair question because I have so many! I love to read (which is really saying something since it took me until about fifth grade to be able to read well with my dyslexia). Right now I’m enjoying Gail Carriger’s Soulless series, Yasmin Galenorn’s Otherworld series and a new book by James Rollins. I love reading P.C. and Kristin Cast’s House of Night books. I’m a huge fan of historical romance author Julia Quinn (and have all her books on my keeper shelf). I’m also reading Zoe Archer’s Blades of the Rose series.

PYN: How long did it take you to write The Truth About Vampires?

I keep a day by day progress log for my writing so I keep on track with my deadlines. Looking at that it took me 2.5 months to write the story. Usually I try to schedule it so I’m writing 5-7 pages a day and give myself two weeks for editing. I can write 10-15 pages a day if I really push myself, but then my family doesn’t like me too much because mommy gets “grouchy”.

PYN: What intrigues you most about vampires?

I suppose it’s their grasp of immortality. The search for immortality (or at least a life after this one) has been the root of every major religion of the world. It taps into the very basics of who are we and what happens to us after we die. In lots of ways vampires are kind of the ultimate when it comes to looking at the question of immortality because they have fears and needs and passions just like us, but they also have eons to get it right.

PYN: How many times did you query before an agent/publisher picked you up?

Bwahaha. Want to see my rejection file? It’s about six inches thick with single page rejection letters from agents and editors. You know what they say about persistence? Yeah, that. I went through two major agent hunts. Had my first agent from 1996 to 2004 and my current agent since 2007, both times required lots and lots of queries. I found tracking them with an Excel spreadsheet help me know who I’d sent to when, what I’d sent, what their response was and what they requested. Being organized makes all the difference. I also recommend www.querytracker.com

PYN: Have you ever pursued any other artistic venues?

My friends laughingly refer to my other artistic interests as playing Martha. I love to sew (and make all my own steampunk costumes), I enjoy painting and love to dance. I love to listen to music, but I have a really hard time reading it so other than plinking on the piano now and then I don’t play an instrument. I’m just lucky everyone else in my house does!

PYN: Besides writing, what are you passionate about?

Life! Ok, I suppose I should break that down a little more, hum? My family, definitely. I love history and folklore/mythology. I enjoy spending time gardening and growing green things. I’m a bit of a nut about tea and have an entire kitchen cupboard that’s just my tea and tea things. I enjoy costuming and painting, canning my own produce from my garden, watching movies and cooking-particularly baking.

PYN: How many books have you written?

I’ve written about 15 books, but only some of those went on to be published.

PYN: Do you have any other project you’re working on?

LOL. Lots! Right now I’m in the middle of the third book for the Sons of Midnight series, tentatively titled The Half-Breed Vampire (which will be done by May). Then I’ll be working on the second of my Legend Chronicles steampunk trilogy, titled The Slayer (which will be done by mid-July). After that I’ve got a dark fae novella in a new Shadow Sisters series to write before August titled Shadowlander, then I’ll be working on my next story for the Sons of Mindnight series which will be done by Nov. And that’s just this year! Currently I’ve got contracts for three dark fae novels in the Shadow Sisters series, and the final book in the steampunk trilogy secheduled to be written in 2012.

PYN: Where can readers purchase your books?

Anywhere Harlequin books are sold – bookstores, grocery stores, Walmart, online at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and eharlequin.com

PYN: Where can readers connect with you on the web?

The best place to find out what I’m working on is my website www.theresameyers.com but readers can usually find me Twittering in the mornings at www.twitter.com/Theresa_Meyers and occasionally on Facebook at www.facebook.com/TheresaMeyersAuthor   I also teach a lot of online writing classes (one on writing Steampunk starts today at www.SavvyAuthors.com)

PYN: Can you share a small excerpt of your work? 

“Why don’t you get her a Vampire.” The sexy-as-hell male

voice, with a slight Italian lilt, soaked into Kristin Reed’s skin

and elicited a flutter in her stomach.

She glanced behind her and found herself face to broad

chest. Encased in a crisp white shirt and fitted black jacket,

the plane of muscle led to a deeply tanned throat, firm jaw

and sinfully sculpted lips. She turned her gaze upward and

found herself staring into a set of intense brown eyes, so dark

they looked nearly black, and so deep they seemed soulless. A

jolt, like caffeine from a double shot of espresso, raced down

her spine and made her limbs tingle.

“Don’t look quite so appalled,” he offered in a deep, rich

voice laced with amusement. “I think you’ll enjoy it. No, put

that away, this drink is on the house. Anastasia, please prepare

a Vampire for our guest.”

Kristin returned her wallet to her purse. “Thanks.” Lord, he

had a great mouth. What would it feel like to brush her mouth

against his? To have his mouth crush hers in a soul-stealing

kiss? Whoa, put on the brakes, she warned herself. This guy

is a total stranger. Sexy and great to look at, but still a total

stranger.

He put out his hand, and Kristin suddenly found her fingers

enveloped in the coolness of his. “Dmitri Dionotte, manager

of this establishment.” He brought her hand up to his mouth,

brushing dry lips across her skin. A shiver, part fear, part

fascination, raced down her spine.

Still holding her hand, he lifted his head, his eyes all pupil

as he held her gaze. He was like no one she’d ever met before.

Darker, more imposing in a way that filled up the room, not

just with his size, but also with the power radiating off him

in pulsating waves.

She’d never had her hand kissed in her life and the contact

alone was making her body buzz. “Kristin. Kristin Reed.” Her

pulsed kicked up double time, as if she’d made several trips up

and down the staircase to the newsroom. Kristin swallowed

and pulled herself together, kicking her brain back into gear,

and withdrew her hand from his. She was here to find a lead.

That’s what she should be concentrating on. Not Mr. Tall,

Dark and Delicious.

“Want that Vampire?” The bartender jarringly interrupted

the silent connection shimmering between them.

Eyes still locked with his, Kristin pushed out something

vaguely intelligent, though her brain had shut down and her

body went into lust mode. “What’s in it?”

The mountain-size guy beside her answered, “Chambord,

peach schnapps, red Vampyre Vodka, a splash of 7-Up and

some cranberry juice.” The words were prosaic enough, but

he made them sound like seduction.

The drink sounded harmless enough. The man was anything

but. “Sure, I’ll try it.”

The bartender slid across a hurricane glass filled to the rim

with ruby-red liquid and capped off with a black straw and a

pair of plastic vampire-costume fangs on the rim. Cute, but

a little tacky.

Kristin took out her wallet, pulled out a ten and tucked it

in the tip jar. Good information was hard to come by and the

man at her side was more a distraction than a good source. She

forced her attention away from him and back to the bartender.

“Have you worked here long?”

The bartender popped her gum as she sliced lemons and

limes and dropped them into a container behind the bar.

“Since they opened in October.”

The sharp smell of citrus overwhelmed some of the

mouthwatering cooking scents, which were making Kristin’s

stomach grumble. She’d forgotten lunch again.

She swizzled the straw in her crimson concoction, casting

a glance under her lashes at the hunky guy beside her. “Yeah,

I heard you had the best Halloween costume party in town.”

“We get some real characters in here,” the bartender

confirmed.

As she took a sip of her drink, the fruit flavors burst on

her tongue. A delicious combination of sweet and tangy. She

glanced at the manager and gave him a little smile. “Hey, I

think I like Vampires. Thanks for the suggestion.”

The bartender snorted.

“You say that now,” he said. The smoky quality of his voice

both tempted her and put her on edge at the same time. “But

watch out. They seem harmless, but they’ve got some serious

bite.”

Kristin paused a beat. There was no point in seeming too

eager to talk with him. She took another sip, then looked up

at him. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“Welcome to Sangria.”

He sat down on the stool beside her, his focus on her so

intense it wrapped around her like a warm down jacket.

Comfortable. Heated. Welcoming.

“Interesting decor.” She glanced around, taking another

sip of her drink, acutely conscious of him sitting beside her

and how it was making her light-headed. Maybe it was the

alcohol on an empty stomach, but somehow she doubted it.

“A place for the curious.”

“You mean vampire wannabes.”

His lips stretched into a subtle smile over very white, very

even teeth. His eyes made her feel as if he was reaching inside

her. Searching the deepest corners of her mind, her heart. “Not

exactly.”

His wavy dark hair curled over the edge of his collar and

she resisted the urge to slip a ring of it around her finger.

Maybe that Vampire drink was stronger than she thought.

A wave of dizziness crashed into her and Kristin sucked in a

gulp of air. She smelled the clean scent of starch, the spiciness

of cloves and something darker, rich and sweet like brandy

laced with dark chocolate. It reached out and coiled about

her senses, both arousing her and making her wary of how

relaxed she seemed to be.

“What are you really here for?” The tenor of his voice

stroked her skin, making her shiver and, odder still, making

her desire to tell him everything. Every secret she’d ever kept.

Every thought she meant to be private. “A man?” His eyes

glittered with invitation.

“No, information. I’m just curious.”

“So you’ve heard about the club.”

She nodded, then peered intently into his eyes. “Only a

few stories. But I hear that you cater to people who are a little

more exotic in what interests them.”

“Really, like what?”

A rush of heat washed over her skin. Just how much should

she reveal? Interviewing was a delicate balancing act. Give

too much and you got nothing. Give a little and sometimes

you got a lot more.

She turned and peered at the kaleidoscope of colors in

the bottles that lined the back of the bar and wondered for

a moment what exactly was in them. Some of the red ones

appeared more dense and opaque. Her source had said people

with vampire fantasies, or kids into cutting, were regulars at

the club. Either way, blood was a big deal. It had seemed like

the best place to find a lead to the weird Bloodless Murders,

since the cop shop had been less than helpful. Again.

Perhaps she ought to go for broke. “Is that blood?” She

indicated a bottle of opaque dark red liquid on the shelves

behind the bar.

He didn’t even flinch. “We try to appeal to all our customers.”

Her curiosity spiked. “And is any of that from donors?”

Dmitri stiffened, turning guarded. Bingo. Her pulse sped

up, this time not from attraction but from excitement. If she

could score a lead on the Bloodless Murders, even just enough

to write up one article, it would give her time.

“So you’re interested in the backroom activities we

offer?”

“Perhaps. I’m a little picky about who I’d partner up with.”

He inclined his head. “Naturally.”

“And I’d like to know a little bit more about what you

offer before I decide if I just want to watch or would rather

participate.”

Oh, God. Had she just said that? Smooth, Reed. Real

smooth. She covered her flub by taking a last sip of the drink

and found herself loudly sucking air instead.

“You really do like Vampires.” He motioned for the

bartender to refill her glass.

Kristin held up a hand. “Oh, I don’t need another right

now.” His eyes bored into hers, searching, weighing, but

revealing nothing. Kristin gave what she hoped was a smile

rather than a grimace. “So, about these other activities?”

“Of course.”

He held out his hand. Grasping it, her hand tingled. She slid

off the high bar stool, and quickly released his hand. What

was up with that? Sure, she’d met cute guys before, but her

body was in overdrive and it shocked her. Grabbing her purse,

she slung the strap over her shoulder and tried to cover how

flustered Dmitri Dionotte seemed to make her. He led her to

the row of crimson-draped rooms on the far side of the club.

“These would be our tasting rooms.”

“Tasting what?”

“Our clientele is interested in unusual vintages. Hard to

obtain wine like, say, a 1945 Mouton Rothschild Pauillac that

retails for about nine thousand dollars a bottle, if you can find

it.”

“Oh.” Who had swung by and stamped a giant L on her

forehead? Her reporting career seemed to be shriveling before

her eyes and her tongue was completely uncooperative. For

some insane reason, she’d hoped she would stumble upon a

solid connection to the murders, a lead that could take her

somewhere with the story and save her ass in the process. Her

editor, Rex Hollander, had been very specific—get a frontpage

investigative story or get a pink slip.

Dmitri lifted one of the heavy velvet curtains aside and

gestured her ahead of him. As a last resort she straightened

her shoulders and tried the vapid smile that got her far more

information than direct questioning ever had. Especially from

a guy like this—cool, reserved, with just enough swagger to

think, or rather know, that he was worth a second look.

“It’s pretty,” she said, keeping her voice artificially highpitched,

shaving another ten points off her IQ. She glanced

around the room, pressing as many details as she could into

her memory. Honestly, it was more like some Goth sitting

room tricked out in crimson faux leather on the walls, soft

black leather couches and lounge chairs, chrome-and-glass

tables, with an enormous flat-screen television on one wall.

A tall black lacquered cabinet stood in one corner. “What’s

in there?”

“Supplies. Glassware, napkins, trays.”

“May I see?”

He moved his hand with a flourish. “But of course.”

He didn’t move to open it, so she took it upon herself to do

the honors.

The doors hid a bit more than napkins and glasses.

Hermetically sealed razor blades, tubing, individually wrapped

packets of gauze, tape. She picked up a plastic-encased blade

between her fingers. “And this would be for slicing…”

“Olives.”

“Riiight.” She tapped her finger on the cabinet door.

“They make the best practice,” he added, his lips tipping

up in the corners in a knowing way.

Kristin’s stomach dropped to her shoes. “Come again?”

“If people are interested in blood activities, we have them

first practice on olives, or grapes. Either tends to simulate

the necessary balance between pressure and precision that’s

required.”

“For…” Kristin rolled her hand, wishing she could pull the

words out of his mouth faster.

            “Some people like to drink blood.”

“Annnnd we’re back to the vampire wannabes.”

He stepped closer, making the room seem all of a sudden

way too small and intimate for her taste. “Not all of them.” He

slipped the cabinet door from her fingers and lightly closed it,

the clicking sound echoing through the hollow in her chest.

Kristin could feel her heartbeat fast and thick in her throat.

His lips twitched and his eyes seemed to take on a golden

glow. A trick of the light, Kristin was sure.

“Some are wannabes. Some, my dear Miss Reed, are the

real thing.”

***

We'd like to thank Theresa for taking time out of her busy schedule to talk with us about her book. We will be interviewing her live on Blog Talk Radio, Monday, March 21. Be sure to listen in or call us with any questions you might have.

Next week we're bringing you some more vampire love when we interview Katie Salidas, author of Karma & Melodies. Until then, we'll see you on the stream.