by L.T. Getty

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Every decade, Marie must leave her home and everything she loves to start anew. She can’t risk the locals learning the truth of her immortality, much less her vampiric need of feeding off fear. Fortunately for Marie, fear comes easily and she spends her endless days mourning the loss of her beloved.

When she is summoned to the leaders of the masquerade, she is persuaded to assist them in uncovering a mystery of powers possibly more ancient then their own order.

As a rare daywalker of exquisite beauty, there is no society Marie cannot infiltrate. Having spent the last few centuries growing into her abilities, she expects to learn of the old powers, and return to her lonely eternity of mourning.

She doesn’t expect to fall in love.

“Where is this fool taking us?” one of Raoul’s men asked.

I realized then that they hadn’t been paying attention.

“Driver!” He reached his arm outside the open window to rap and get his attention, but I could smell the hiss of venom and knew it was intentional.

The horses ran quicker, and I could hear more coming up. They sought to isolate us and do their deed in the woods. Interesting choice, as there was no need to restrain ourselves without potential witnesses.

One of Raoul’s guards kicked open the door. He glided out. His gift included some manipulation of his form, and like a shadow he leapt onto the path, while his fellow went to climb up on the stagecoach.

Raoul glanced at me. “You’ll be safest in here.”

“Do not leave your men, guardian mine.”

His gaze darted from mine as I recognized the smell of flesh turning to ash, and light pierced the chest of the fellow on the roof of the coach. He exploded into dust before he could scream. The stench of sulphur was undeniable, even without our honed senses. The other fellow met a similar end a moment later.

Unfazed by the strange tool on a chain, Raoul unsheathed a rapier from his cane and struck the driver in the leg. The man was young. He met a knife at the rapier for the second strike, but the riders coming up were too late. Raoul knocked aside the gun and slashed the driver’s face before he pierced his heart. I bounced along uncomfortably as the driver was pushed forward and went under the back left wheel.

The horses squealed and ran faster. Raoul reached for the reins, but a rider came up from beside the carriage, then put her pistol in through the open window at me. I grabbed the weapon with such force I nearly knocked her off her horse and into the carriage’s paneling.


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-What inspired you to become a writer?

I started writing very young. I think it’s mostly that I’m creative and needed an outlet. My dad was really good at narrating picture books as a kid, and I think I wanted to be a good story teller. I preferred longer stories, like tv series or movies, so I basically just started, not knowing what I was doing.

-If you could visit your book’s world for a day, what one thing would you do?

Despite knowing the ins and outs of the world, I doubt I’d be able to infiltrate either of the secret societies without showing as knowing too much, and being hauled away for questioning. Appropriate period piece costuming and a zeppelin ride through the snowy mountains, I suppose. Hopefully that would be relatively safe.

-It’s two in the morning. What does your protagonist reveal in confidence? (Don’t worry, we won’t tell.)

Marie would admit she wants to give up her selfish behavior. I don’t want to spoil the novel, but towards the end of the book, I hit the reader pretty hard with a reveal that Marie is not only an unreliable narrator, but she’s downright delusional. I think a part of her wants to let go and move on, but she’s not willing to admit that she’s anything less than perfect or that she’s wrong. Because she’s incapable of growth, she’s stuck and will continue down the road, choosing to avenge herself against those she’s deemed to have wronged her.

-Which of your characters would you go out for drinks with?

Phyllis, Vampire Hunter extrodinaire. Not sure if she’d like much to do with me, considering what I put her through, but I knew she was always going to triumph. Out of all the Vampires, Bastian. Not because he wouldn’t hit on everything that moves, but because he really is the least dangerous.

-You’re in a tavern, and a dwarf challenges you to a duel. What do you do?

Accept. Is this a drinking contest? Phyllis, you got my back…? I’m probably going to lose, but it’ll be fun.

-Is there a genre you could never write? Which and why?

Never say never, on account that you don’t know where the creative muse will take you, especially pertaining to If I were to guess, I probably wouldn’t write erotic romance, and even for me writing romance as a genre is something I don’t see happening in the future. I think I could tell a romance more of the traditional Love Story, but as genre fiction, I don’t think I’d do a very good job of writing a Romance Novel. Don’t get me wrong, I think I can write ‘will they won’t they’ but when I think of love stories, I think of Arthurian novels and tragedies.

L.T. Getty is a science fiction and fantasy writer who hails from the Canadian Prairies. When she’s not writing, you can likely find her driving an ambulance and dreaming about travel.

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