Author Ambush & Contest with Theresa Meyers

Happy Weekend Monster and Addicts!

Today we have the incredible Theresa Meyers taking over, so please show her some love by leaving questions and comments for her. 

Have a great weekend and a wonderful Easter & Passover!!

About Theresa:

Theresa writes some amazing stories in multiple genres of romance.  She's written steampunk romance for Zebra Publishing, paranormal romance/urban fantasy for Entangled Publishing, vampire romance for Harlequin Nocturne and historical romance for Diversion Publishing.

Theresa has a great bio on her website so we borrowed it so you can learn more about her…

To say I lead a double life is putting it mildly. Everything about me could be a contradiction.

City girl and country girl: I was the city girl who grew up in a small town, literally. We moved from San Jose, California, where my biggest kick was shopping with my friends and ice-skating at the indoor rink when I was 13, to a 75-acre sheep ranch on the edge of the small town of Sutherlin, Oregon, which had a smaller population for the entire town than the congregation at my church in the Bay area. My high school graduating class was under 100 people.

The writer who was journalist, publicist and novelist: I never intended to either write books or be in public relations, they both sort of happen as an extension of my love of writing. My experience in the publishing industry is varied. I started out writing on the school newspaper in junior high, more as a dare by my boyfriend when I wanted to prove that anything he could do, I could do just as well. From the moment I saw my first article in print, I was hooked. My first short story, “My Mother Unusual in a Normal Sort of Way” was published by Merlin’s Pen in 1987. I wrote for the paper all through high school and into college. Then I worked at a daily newspaper where I became the “messenger of death” from the day editor to the night editor . . .and I was too afraid that the cliché kill the messenger might turn into a reality, so I quit, got married to my high school sweetheart at 19 and started college, focusing on mass communications

I began dabbling with a story in my head, but even after paying for a Writers Digest Course, didn’t manage to finish it and stuck it away. I started work in public relations for a big corporation and then for the largest agency in Arizona. Meanwhile the writing bug wouldn’t shut up. I joined Romance Writers of America in 1993, took out the story that wouldn’t leave me alone, and decided to finish it. Along the way I quit working at the agency because of my daughter’s birth and started magazine freelancing to help make ends meet. Since then, I’ve kept writing more stories.

The mother who would bear children in Arizona, but didn’t raise them there: When my son was born (both of my kids were born at home with a midwife, but that’s another whole story), we lived in Phoenix, Arizona.  Not too long after they were born we decided to move back to the Pacific Northwest to raise our kids “back home” where they could stuff their faces with wild blackberries from the yard, play mud babies (no explanation needed, just imagine mud and naked children laughing and rolling in it) and enjoy nature at its finest, even if it does happen to be all cottontail rabbits that eat the vegetable garden.

The Italian American: I’m certainly proud to be an American, but I’m also fiercely aware of my Italian heritage. My grandmother, who’s still alive, kicking and raising hell, grew up in Sicily until she was 14. My father’s entire side of the family didn’t even make it to the USA until the 1900s. Me? I’m the only one on that side of the family with blonde hair and blue eyes, but everyone tells me I’m just like my grandmother; even the cousins in Sicily that I went to see in 2004. I’m planning on going back again, soon, but this time I’m learning how to speak Italian first! There’s nothing like Italy.

From writer to publicist and back again: So how exactly did I go from being a writer to a publicist and back again? I was writing on my books and doing pr on the side for restaurants, small businesses, hotels and the like. A dear friend, (Cherry Adair, love her books) asked me to do some publicity work on her upcoming book and I agreed – but told her, I don’t publicize books. From that one incident, a new business was created. It morphed into Blue Moon Communications, a public relations firm focused on promoting fiction authors, which is best known for getting their clients selected as two of the seven picks of the Kelly Ripa Book Club on LIVE! With Regis and Kelly. (You can find me at my day job at www.bluemooncommunications.com.) Now I work two jobs, publicity and writing the books, well, three if you count being a

mom.

LIVE CHAT REMINDER:  Theresa will be chatting with us over in the LITERAL ADDICTION CHatroom today from 3-4pm EST (2-3pm CT, 1-2pm MDT, 12-1pm PDT) so stop by and join in the fun!

Victorian Monsters

Guest post from Theresa Meyers

You know we don’t give enough credit to the Victorians for our current love of all things paranormal, but it really was that era that brought creatures of the night out into mainstream society. From Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to surge of interest in Egyptology (and hence mummies), the 1800s really laid down the foundation for our fascination with monsters.

The Victorians loved the supernatural. It was a period of time where Spiritualism (the religion involving contacting of the dead by the living) was rampant, as was fortune telling, and séances. This is when you found stories of fairy sightings being reported in daily newspapers or fictional accounts of airships being seen hovering over the city reported as front page fact (thanks to authors like Mark Twain and Edgar Allen Poe). This was paired with the newly emerging sciences of cryptobiology, cryptozoology and Egyptology. The blend of fact and fiction, mysticism and science was at it’s zenith.

I suppose that’s part of the reason why I enjoy writing paranormal steampunk romance. I know—a mash up if there ever was one—but it really all does work together. What we consider Frankenstein, hard-core steampunk fans would consider a construct (revivified human body). All I had to do was add in my Jackson brothers, who hunt down Darkin (aka supernatural beings).

In The Legend Chronicles Winchester, Remington and Colt (all named after their father’s favorite guns, naturally) are Hunters in the wilds of the America west. It’s an age of cowboys, rustlers, miners and stage coaches.  But the world is getting smaller too. Telegraphs and airships, the use of electricity and the development of science, imperialism and revolution, is all happening and converging during the late 1800s. So while the Jackson brothers may use old-fashioned know-how when it comes down to hunting demons, vampires, ghosts or skinwalkers, they often have a few gizmos courtesy of their intrepid inventor friend, Marley Turlock.

Writing paranormal steampunk means I get a chance to play in that Victorian era, when monsters were something fresh, exciting and new to the masses and the clothing was sensational. While my brothers are well-versed in Hunting, average citizens still see these monsters as merely fictional creations by the writers of the day. They don’t know that vampires are real.

Which puts my eldest brother, Winchester, in a tough spot in The Slayer. You see, he’s given up hunting and is trying his best to lead a normal life as sheriff of Bodie, California. But when a vampire contessa arrives, asking for his help to recover a stolen piece of the Book of Legend (the compendium of all Hunter knowledge handed down generation to generation) he can’t really say no. He needs to make sure the normal people in Bodie don't discover that a vampire airship is waiting just on the other side of the hills from town. They need to believe they are still safe. The world depends on him and his brothers recovering the scattered pieces and reuniting the Book to defeat an even bigger threat to our world.

To be perfectly fair, I put all my Jackson brothers in a similarly tight spot, forcing them to rely on gorgeous Darkin (a succubus, a vampiress and a shapeshifting thief) in order to accomplish their goals. What better way to torture a character than to make him fall for the thing he trusts least in the world?

And just like the Victorians, my stories get to be a blend of supernatural and plausible science side by side, with a dash of romance and generous dollop of action and adventure thrown in. I really do believe that our love affair with monsters started with the Victorians. Seriously, can you imagine how Dracula would have looked without the benefit of a great cape? Simply dreadful. He wouldn’t have had nearly the impact if he were in slouching, baggy jeans and a hoodie. The Victorians imparted our impression of monsters with style and grace, flair and excitement. Without them, would our vampires and demons, witches and werewolves still have the same appeal?

For a taste of paranormal and steampunk I suggest you consider going to Steamcon IV (www.steamcon.org) in the Seattle area, Oct. 26-28 (yes, Halloween weekend). Their theme this year is…take a wild guess….Victorian Monsters. Bring your top hat, and your fangs. Nearly every-one dresses in costume for the conference. I can’t wait!

Here's a look at Theresa's newest release, "The Slayer", the second book in THE LEGEND CHRONICLES series:

"The Slayer"

THE LEGEND CHRONICLES, Book 2

Brothers Winchester, Remington, and Colt know the legends—they were trained from childhood to destroy demon predators, wielding the latest steam-powered gadgetry. It’s a devil of a job. But sometimes your fate chooses you…

Chasing Trouble

Winn Jackson isn’t interested in hunting nightmares across the Wild West—even if it’s the family business. Unlike his rakehell brothers, Winn believes in rules. As sheriff of Bodie, California, he only shoots actual law breakers. That’s what he’s doing when he rescues the Contessa Drossenburg, Alexandra Porter, a lady with all the elegance of the Old World—grace, beauty and class. And then he sees her fangs.

Alexandra isn’t just some bloodsucking damsel in distress, though. She’s on a mission to save her people—and she’s dead certain that Winn’s family legacy is the only way. Luckily, aside from grace and class, she also has a stubborn streak a mile wide. So like it or not, Winn is going to come back with her to the mountains of Transylvania, and while he’s at it, change his opinions about vampires, demon-hunting, and who exactly deserves shooting. And if she has her way, he’s going to do his darnedest to save the world…

"The Slayer" EXCERPT # 1:

Outside Bodie, CA

1883

“Put down the gun, Hoss, fore I blow that oversized melon of yours to kingdom come.” Winchester Jackson’s cold, steady voice cracked through the canyon sure as a shot. Although Hoss Dalton, seated on his horse, had his rifle stuck under the leather flap of the stagecoach window, Winn knew the outlaw never robbed alone. Somewhere, hidden by the rock walls, sagebrush, and dead grasses of the canyon, Hoss’s ragged band of fellow thieves lay in wait.

The stage perched precariously on the shaley edge of the dirt road leading from Carson City to Winn’s town of Bodie. Inside a woman whimpered and a small dog yipped.

This was getting old. It really was. And it was unlikely this would end well. Hoss was two bricks shy of a load and perpetually half-drunk. But then anyone who’d seen and done the things an old Hunter like Hoss had would want to drown themselves in whiskey most of the time. “Hoss? You hear me?”

The female whimper was cut off instantly. Even the hot desert air scented with creosote and sagebrush in the rocky chute of the canyon stood still.

Hoss, turned slowly. His rifle, which was pointed at the occupants hidden within the dark interior of the steam stage, wavered at the I-won’t-tell-you-again tone of the sheriff’s voice.

Attached to the front of the stage, the mechanical horses, big copper beasts the size of Clydesdales, pinged, hissing steam through their venting nostrils as the metal and gears cooled.

Winn kept Hoss in his sights. The old man’s eyes, rheumy from too much rotgut whiskey, flicked to the star-shaped silver badge on Winn’s chest, but his rifle didn’t waver. Sonofabitch, was the old fool going to shoot a stage full of people right here, ten minutes from town, for a measly payroll?

The brilliant sun hung white hot overhead in a cloudless field of brilliant blue.

“Countdown is at three, Hoss. Drop that, or swear to God, I’ll shoot you where you stand! Tommy Sutton? You stay right where you are!” he yelled. He didn’t know if Sutton was there or not. Didn’t have eyes in the back of his head either, but the rustle in the grasses off to his right stopped.

“Damn, Winn. You ain’t nothin’ like your old man.” Hoss’s tone conveyed his deep disappointment born of familiarity.

Winchester Jackson peered down the length of his rifle barrel aimed at his quarry’s heart. “Thank you for the compliment.” Fact was, anything that distinguished him from his notorious outlaw father and supernatural Hunter, Cyrus “Black Jack” Jackson, pleased him enormously. He didn’t want any part of that life. Not now. Not ever again.

“Cain’t you jest let me go, for old time’s sake?” Hoss and his group of bandits had once been Hunters alongside his father. But tough times had turned them from protecting humanity to protecting their own self-serving interests. They’d robbed this stage four times in the last month, hoping for a payroll run for the Black Gulch Mine.

Winn was damned if he was going to let it be five. He had a murder a day, sometimes more than one, to contend with in the rowdy mining town. Having the miner’s pay stolen and travelers threatened on a regular basis was a pain in his ass. He’d stuck Hoss and his cronies in jail three times for doing exactly this. And every time, Hoss’s nefarious connections had gotten them out. But enough was enough.

“If I let you go, then I wouldn’t be doing my job, now would I? Get your hands where I can see them.” Winn pulled down the lever on his repeating rifle preparing it to fire.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Four other guns cocked and pointed at Winchester’s head as the rest of Hoss’s group emerged from the jagged tan rocks of the canyon. A perfect place to stage a hold up.

Damn.

“Not this time, Winn.” His wide smile a mess of gaps and yellowed teeth, Hoss stepped forward and pulled the rifle from Winchester’s hands. “No one would have figured you for the rotten apple in the barrel. A lawman!” His lip curled with contempt. “That would jest make your pa spit nails.”

Winchester resisted the urge to tug on the hardened tips of his heavily waxed black mustache, a habit he’d developed when agitated during his last five years as sheriff of Bodie. “My pa would have spit anything he could chew.”

A metallic clink and rattle of gears alerted Winn that the steps of the coach were being lowered. “Stay inside,” he shouted to the fool preparing to alight on a mountain pass with five armed men holding mere feet away.

A rustle of taffeta accompanied a length of silky calf and dainty half boot onto the first step. From the dim recesses of the stage stepped an elegant woman.

Winn felt a rush of unwanted heat as she emerged into the dusty sunlight. Dark, glossy curls were capped with a jaunty little top hat sporting a cloud of black feathers. Her expensive-looking bustled gown, the blue-black iridescent color of raven wings, hugged her slim waist and suggested a silhouette that was amply curved by nature rather than artifice. But more stunning than her figure was her face.

Seeing her beautiful, exotic features made Winn’s heart knock uncomfortably, and caused his palms to sweat. Sure he’d seen women. Plenty of them. But nothing like this roamed the likes of Bodie. Lips, a shade too full to be fashionable, and high cheekbones accented a pair of piercing whiskey-colored eyes that stole his breath away.

The woman’s dusky beauty was both dark and alluring, but the undercurrent of danger surrounded her like a storm cloud charged with lightning. Upon the black kidskin leather of her gloved hand was a large ruby ring, which matched the blood-like droplets of rubies at her ears. Her every mannerism screamed wealth and privilege.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” Her voice was soothing and rich like warm honey, and her heavy Eastern European accent made “gentlemen” sound more like “zhentlemen.” 

Hoss gave an impatient jerk of his head toward the stage, even though his gaze lingered on the woman. “Wait your turn missus. Get back in that coach. We’ll have us a fine time when I’m done with my business.” His suggestive tone made Winchester want to punch him—hard, and preferably more than once.

“I think not,” she replied smoothly.

The hair pricked up porcupine fashion on the back of Winchester’s neck as the scent of sulfur tainted the air. Something about this situation wasn’t right.

He turned away from the woman, focusing instead on taking down Hoss. Sure, he’d probably get shot by one of the Dalton gang, but if he did it right, it wouldn’t be more than a flesh wound and Hoss would take the brunt of his gang’s shots. He bent his knees slightly, preparing to lunge at Hoss’s middle, but before he could even move, all hell broke loose.

The woman’s face warped, her brows protruded, her eyes turned crimson, and her full lips bracketed a pair of perfect pearly fangs. She hissed and every head turned.

“Vampire!” Hoss yelled to the others.

Taken off guard, they fumbled with their weapons, trying to exchange regular bullets for silver, but they weren’t fast enough. In a blink she had stripped the men from their horses and savagely ripped out their throats with her delicate gloved hands and razor-sharp fangs.

Winchester grabbed his rifle out of Hoss’s loose grip and trained the weapon on the monster in taffeta. She turned back, facing them, her lips slicked with bright red blood. The tip of her soft pink tongue stroked one fang, making Winchester’s gut contract involuntarily.

“A bit rustic, and a little too well marinated in whiskey, but substantial,” she said, as if discussing the vintage of wine. She pulled a black silk handkerchief from the sleeve of her gown and dabbed at the blood remaining around her lips and chin, removing the last traces of her unladylike activity.

“Well don’t just stand there, goddammit, shoot her!” Hoss yelled, shuffling behind Winchester. Winn stood his ground, the rifle pointed straight at the vampiress’s heart. Not that it would do much good. What he really needed was a machete or a broadsword to lop that lovely dark-haired head from her slim shoulders.

“Don’t come any closer,” he warned.

She tilted her head slightly like an inquisitive bird of prey, her eyes returning to their original amber color and her face returning to its regal profile. Only the fangs still remained.

“You have nothing to fear from me. Look around you, Hunter. Have I harmed the innocents in the coach? Have I harmed you? No. I took only the lives of those who were contributing nothing to your society in the first place. Hardly a crime.” She peeled the soiled black gloves from her fingers one at a time, then tossed them into the air where they disappeared in a swirl of dark smoke.

Winn’s finger rested heavy on the trigger, just needing a finite amount of pressure to fire the rifle at the vampiress. Only one thing held him back.

Everything she’d said was true.

He glanced at the wooden steam-powered stagecoach. The occupants huddled inside, whispering and peering with wide frightened eyes from behind the dusty leather window coverings, afraid to come out, but they were unharmed. Hoss’s men lay in crumpled bloody heaps and Hoss himself was still cowering behind him, but she hadn’t attacked him.

“What d’you want, vampire?”

“I am the Lady Alexandra Porter, Contessa Drossenburg, embassary of his vampiric imperial majesty, Emperor Vladamir the Fifth. I’ve come to seek out the eldest of the Chosen, Winchester Jackson. I was told he resides in Bodie.” Her gaze flicked to the cluster of sun-bleached wooden and brick buildings down in the valley below, then drifted to the star on his chest. “Do you know him?”

“Lady, I am him.”

Check out the first book in THE LEGEND CHRONICLES series:

"The Hunter"

The start of an exciting new steampunk paranormal romance trilogy, which follows three brothers as they battle to find and protect their father's piece of the missing Book of Legend, while falling in love with the paranormal heroines along the way. Original.

They're the Chosen—Winchester, Remington and Colt—brothers trained to hunt down supernatural beings using the latest steam-powered gadgetry. It's a hard legacy to shoulder, and it's about to get a lot more dangerous...

A Devil Of A Job

Colt Jackson has gotten his name on many a wanted poster with success in the family business: hunting supernaturals across the frontier. Lately, though, there's a sulfur stink in the wind and the Darkin population is exploding. A rift in the worlds is appearing. To close it, Colt will have to do the unthinkable and work with a demon to pass arcane boundaries no human alone can cross.

Except when he summons his demon, he doesn't get some horned monstrosity: he gets a curvy redheaded succubus named Lilly, who's willing to make a bargain to become human again. He also gets Lilly's secret expertise on the machinations on the dark side of the rift. And her charm and cleverness help to get them out of what his silver-loaded pistol and mechanical horse can't. Of course, when all hell breaks loose, he might have to sacrifice his soul. But what's adventure without a little risk?

If you would like to find out more about Theresa and her books, you can visit her at her Website, or her Facebook, Twitter or Goodreads pages.   

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CONTEST:

Theresa is giving away an Advanced Readers Copy (ARC) of "The Slayer" and a signed cover flat to a winner from Book Monster and another winner over at the LITERAL ADDICTION website.

TO ENTER:

Make sure you are a member of the Book Monster Blog (by clicking on the “JOIN THIS SITE” button at the top left hand corner of blog page), and then post a comment on the interview with your email address.

*Any comments without an email address will NOT be entered

into drawing.

Don't forget to drop by the LITERAL ADDICTION website (http://www.literaladdiction.com/) and follow the directions and links to enter their contest for an extra chance to win!!!