What should a mortal do when her soul mate is a vampire and she
can’t become one?
Emily is faced with that question first in The Importance of Being Emily and then
again in Poison in the Blood. (Both
stories are included in the print edition of Poison in the Blood--it’s two books in one!) Emily is a seer, and
though she loves her soul mate Michael, he is sworn to serve the Order of St.
Jerome as an immortal chronicler. The Order doesn’t allow seers in its ranks,
so Emily can’t join them. Her only other vampiric option is to become a master
necromancer, and respectable magicians consider necromancers to be vicious,
power-hungry monsters.
I make my vampires work for their immortality. It takes
years of study, and half of the apprentices don’t survive the transformation.
Emily is grateful when Michael survives the ritual, but heartbroken at the rift
it creates between them. They’ll never grow old together—Michael will watch
Emily and generations of their descendants age and die. But Emily is a fighter,
and she’s never been a respectable magician. She’ll turn London’s magical
society upside down and inside out to spend eternity with the man she loves.
I first introduced Emily and Michael (and Michael’s
ill-tempered mentor Simon St. Jerome) in my modern Bad Witch books, but because they’re vampires I wanted to go back
in time and show them causing mischief and mayhem in the past. The first two
Emily books are set in Victorian England, and I have plans for Emily and
Michael to fight supernatural crime in Chicago during the 1893 World’s Fair and
then later during the Prohibition era.
I love writing in the Bad
Witch world, and these characters are my favorite. Poison in the Blood has magic, murder, mystery, matchmaking, and
adorable plot moppets, and it was a fun story to write. I’m looking forward to
starting the next one.
Poison in the Blood
Bad Witch:
The Emily Chronicles
Book 2
Robyn Bachar
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
E-book: June 18, 2013
Print: June 3, 2014
ISBN: E-book 978-1-61921-587-0
ISBN: Print 978-1-61921-916-8
ASIN:
Number of pages: 272
Word Count: 55,711
Cover Artist: Kanaxa
Book Description:
She is honey to his throat…but one sweet taste could part them forever…
Banished from home while her husband adjusts to life as an immortal, blood-drinking chronicler, Emily Black is homesick, heartsick and struggling under the constant sensory barrage of a city drenched in ancient magic. When an old friend asks for her aid in solving a string of murders, she welcomes the distraction, despite the danger.
Justine Dubois is grateful for a seer’s help, and more understanding than anyone of Emily’s plight. As a guardian, Justine commands respect; as a woman, her magic is considered inferior. Together, they are determined to prove their worth to London’s magicians, starting with solving these murders—with maybe a bit of matchmaking on the side.
Long before he met his soul mate, Michael Black made a commitment to join the Order of St. Jerome. He will live forever, forced to watch the woman he loves age and die. As Emily hunts the murderer, Michael struggles to protect her. But if he loses control of his hunger, the greatest threat to her safety could be Michael himself.
Warning: Contains tortured soul mates, scheming faeries, vampire debauchery, deadly parasols, illicit blood-drinker relations, and adorable plot moppets.
Readers can receive 30% off the ebook of Poison in the Blood from the Samhain Store by using the coupon code POISON14 at checkout.
Excerpt:
Normally stepping into a garden would soothe me, but we were still within London, where there was no comfort whatsoever. I looked up at the night sky and wished I were with Michael.
“You have the soul of an artist, Miss Rose. It is a rare gift.” Mr. Paris stroked my hand, and I tugged it free of his arm. I folded both hands before me primly and smiled.
“Again, that is very kind of you.”
“I consider myself a patron of the arts.”
“So you attend gatherings such as this often?” I asked.
“Of course. I am always on the lookout for new talent.”
“I see. Did you know Mrs. Harding?” I tried to examine his aura to determine his reaction, but his magic continued to be so overwhelming that my eyes watered. Mr. Paris must be unspeakably powerful, and I found myself both worried and intrigued. Perhaps he was a sorcerer? One who specialized in darkness?
“I did. Poor girl. What a terrible thing to have happened to her and her family… Tell me, are you working on a second collection of your work?” he asked, quickly changing the subject.
“I am, though I am afraid the subject matter is quite a bit darker.”
Mr. Paris smiled a predatory grin, and my pulse leapt with a thrill of fear. “I am not afraid of the dark, Miss Rose. Are you?”
He stepped closer, but I held my ground, studying him with a curious tilt to my head. “What are you?” I asked.
He blinked, startled. “I beg your pardon?”
“What sort of magic do you practice?” I clarified.
“Oh. I am a librarian, of course,” he replied, and I laughed, unable to help myself. “What’s so funny?”
“You are most certainly not a librarian. Do people truly believe that lie?”
The smile slid from Mr. Paris’s face as his expression hardened. He stepped forward and tried to grab my arm, but Miss Dubois was suddenly between us, a shining silver blur. With a snarl he turned and ran, and the guardian chased him out of the garden and into the street.
Uncertain of what to do, I followed. I stood hesitant at the garden gate, wondering which way they went. My vision shifted, and I followed Miss Dubois’s blazing footsteps. I paused next to a blur traced over the high brick wall of another garden. It was another magical doorway, rather like the one I had discovered near Mrs. Harding’s body outside the Undiscovered Country. Foolishly I raised my hand to touch it, despite knowing full well that doing so could trigger another vision, but a hand emerged from the brick wall and grabbed my wrist.
Overwhelmed with shock, I barely managed a strangled gasp as Mr. Paris stepped through the wall and glared down at me. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“You first.” My voice trembled, and Mr. Paris grinned. He tightened his grip and snapped several small bones in my wrist, and I screamed.
“Who are you?” he repeated.
Something bubbled up within me, a bright plume of prophetic magic that became my answer. “I am your end.” That time my voice did not tremble at all, but was filled with terrible certainty. I would cause Mr. Paris’s death, and I knew it with as much confidence as I knew the sun would rise in the morning.
Something in my gaze must have worried him, because he snarled. Scowling, he grabbed my forearm with both hands and twisted. The bone snapped like dry kindling, and I screamed again. Before he could torment me further Miss Dubois arrived and bashed him with a round silver shield. Mr. Paris vanished into thin air, and the guardian stood near me. One arm bore the shield, while in her other hand she held a sword. How cunning of her. I wanted a sword as well.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
My knees wobbled and began to buckle, but then two dark blurs streaked up to us, and I was suddenly swept from my feet and cradled close in Michael’s arms.
“Darling! What happened?” he asked.
“You caught me.” I blinked—however had he moved that fast? Simon sighed and shook his head at his student, and I sensed that Michael and I were both in for a scolding.
“Of course I did. I will always catch you. Are you all right?”
Excerpt:
Normally stepping into a garden would soothe me, but we were still within London, where there was no comfort whatsoever. I looked up at the night sky and wished I were with Michael.
“You have the soul of an artist, Miss Rose. It is a rare gift.” Mr. Paris stroked my hand, and I tugged it free of his arm. I folded both hands before me primly and smiled.
“Again, that is very kind of you.”
“I consider myself a patron of the arts.”
“So you attend gatherings such as this often?” I asked.
“Of course. I am always on the lookout for new talent.”
“I see. Did you know Mrs. Harding?” I tried to examine his aura to determine his reaction, but his magic continued to be so overwhelming that my eyes watered. Mr. Paris must be unspeakably powerful, and I found myself both worried and intrigued. Perhaps he was a sorcerer? One who specialized in darkness?
“I did. Poor girl. What a terrible thing to have happened to her and her family… Tell me, are you working on a second collection of your work?” he asked, quickly changing the subject.
“I am, though I am afraid the subject matter is quite a bit darker.”
Mr. Paris smiled a predatory grin, and my pulse leapt with a thrill of fear. “I am not afraid of the dark, Miss Rose. Are you?”
He stepped closer, but I held my ground, studying him with a curious tilt to my head. “What are you?” I asked.
He blinked, startled. “I beg your pardon?”
“What sort of magic do you practice?” I clarified.
“Oh. I am a librarian, of course,” he replied, and I laughed, unable to help myself. “What’s so funny?”
“You are most certainly not a librarian. Do people truly believe that lie?”
The smile slid from Mr. Paris’s face as his expression hardened. He stepped forward and tried to grab my arm, but Miss Dubois was suddenly between us, a shining silver blur. With a snarl he turned and ran, and the guardian chased him out of the garden and into the street.
Uncertain of what to do, I followed. I stood hesitant at the garden gate, wondering which way they went. My vision shifted, and I followed Miss Dubois’s blazing footsteps. I paused next to a blur traced over the high brick wall of another garden. It was another magical doorway, rather like the one I had discovered near Mrs. Harding’s body outside the Undiscovered Country. Foolishly I raised my hand to touch it, despite knowing full well that doing so could trigger another vision, but a hand emerged from the brick wall and grabbed my wrist.
Overwhelmed with shock, I barely managed a strangled gasp as Mr. Paris stepped through the wall and glared down at me. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“You first.” My voice trembled, and Mr. Paris grinned. He tightened his grip and snapped several small bones in my wrist, and I screamed.
“Who are you?” he repeated.
Something bubbled up within me, a bright plume of prophetic magic that became my answer. “I am your end.” That time my voice did not tremble at all, but was filled with terrible certainty. I would cause Mr. Paris’s death, and I knew it with as much confidence as I knew the sun would rise in the morning.
Something in my gaze must have worried him, because he snarled. Scowling, he grabbed my forearm with both hands and twisted. The bone snapped like dry kindling, and I screamed again. Before he could torment me further Miss Dubois arrived and bashed him with a round silver shield. Mr. Paris vanished into thin air, and the guardian stood near me. One arm bore the shield, while in her other hand she held a sword. How cunning of her. I wanted a sword as well.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
My knees wobbled and began to buckle, but then two dark blurs streaked up to us, and I was suddenly swept from my feet and cradled close in Michael’s arms.
“Darling! What happened?” he asked.
“You caught me.” I blinked—however had he moved that fast? Simon sighed and shook his head at his student, and I sensed that Michael and I were both in for a scolding.
“Of course I did. I will always catch you. Are you all right?”
About the Author:
Robyn Bachar was born and raised in Berwyn, Illinois, and loves all things related to Chicago, from the Cubs to the pizza. It seemed only natural to combine it with her love of fantasy, and tell stories of witches and vampires in the Chicagoland area. As a gamer, Robyn has spent many hours rolling dice, playing rock-paper-scissors and slaying creatures in MMPORGs.
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5 comments:
Thanks for having me today! :)
How long has Samhain been delving into the gothic arena, anyway?
In any event, best of luck with the book's success.
I'm not sure it qualifies as gothic. It's Victorian paranormal romance with a murder mystery. Though I suppose the bonus novella included in the print edition has gothic elements.
well, it doesn't really sound gothic, but it still sounds interesting
Interesting blurb
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