Let's welcome Carmilla, one of my co-authors at Vamptasty/Hot Ink Press/Crushing Hearts & Black Butterflies Press (A trio of publishers who are closely aligned.)
I love writing, but struggle to promote myself to readers. I suppose it’s the publicist part of the job with which I struggle most.
When did you find out that you wanted to be a writer? What inspired you to put pen to paper?
I’ve always wanted to be a writer. As a teen I had some poetry published, then life somehow got in the way. I started again after studying Creative Writing with the Open University in 2009.
Of your published works, do you have a favorite? Why?
Psychonaut is my favorite so far. It shows how I’ve matured as a writer and is quite an amazing feat of imagination, if I might say so myself. It doesn’t hurt that one of my writing heroes, Graham Masterton, read, loved and endorsed it.
I hate it when writers use the wrong their or there, your or you’re, it drives me nuts. My worst sin is punctuation. I leave out commas. Luckily I have an editor who tells me off for this. I keep her busy.
Do you ever want to go back and edit an older story?
I read some paragraphs from Starblood at my launch for Psychonaut recently and realized I hadn’t used italics for some of the main characters direct thoughts. I started sweating and wanted to recall all the copies.
Tell me about your first publication. Who was it with? How did you feel when you got that acceptance?
My very first publication was a poem about a vampire child which was accepted by Bats and Red Velvet magazine. I was delighted. I still have the copy.
What projects are you currently working on? Are you willing to share a small excerpt from a work in progress?
I’m currently working on the last book in the Starblood trilogy and two short stories. One is an erotic short which is a modern take on a fairytale sexed up. The other is for an anthology I’m editing of psychological horror.
This is an unedited section from Black Sun. Please keep this in mind when reading.
“He steps through the gate. His skin glows in the soft twilight. She watches him for a moment then follows. The loose stones on the driveway cut the soles of her feet as she walks behind him on tiptoes.
‘Steve,’ she whispers then speaks louder. ‘Satori?’
He looks back at her for a moment and nods. Then he is walking again, away from her and she hurries to catch up.
Graves mark either edge of the driveway: ostentatious statues of former leaders in the community. Steve turns left and starts walking along a mud pathway between two of the more modest marble sculptures. The earth is soft beneath her feet and her soles sink into the earth. She follows his footprints, striding wider than normal to match his path perfectly.
‘What are we doing here,’ she asks.
He keeps walking and she follows. Her vision touches the headstones at either side of the meagre pathway.
The angels and dogs morph into simple crosses and the occasional teddy bear as they progress through time to the newer graves.
Steve stops in front of a black cross. A tree reaches with bare branches across the grave.
Sarah reaches the marker and stands beside him. The name on the tombstone is Rhiannon. She looks at Steve. His head is bowed and his hands pressed together as if he is praying. She kneels at the edge of the turf, where grass has grown and died back for winter. The earth embraces her knees and she trembles.
‘Raven,’ Steve says at last. ‘I promised I’d bring you here when you returned.’”
Tell us three things about you that are interesting.
I’m a lifetime Goth.
I used to be a clothing designer.
I have had every colour of hair you could imagine.
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