When I was invited to do a guest blog here at Angel’s Guilty Pleasures, I racked my brain. Should I take a funny angle or be serious? Should I lament about the decade and a half that it took me to finish my new novel Chaos and Moonlight or post a playlist? Decisions, decisions!
Then out of the blue, it came to me. The blog is Angel’s Guilty Pleasures, right? Why not write about just that; my guilty pleasure. I’m fairly open with everyone about my love of Brits with great cheek bones and a dry red wine and coffee so I had to tell you, supremely sexy reader you, about my guiltiest pleasure of all, one that I hold onto, no matter what anyone says: vampires.
Yes! I outed myself. I always have been, am now and ever shall be addicted to vampire stories. I’d always wanted to write one so when the opportunity came, I jumped in with both feet. But reading them, now there’s the pleasure. Vampires are the perfect combination of sinister and sensual. They are Mr. Hyde masquerading and Dr. Jekyll. The myriad of different takes on their stories are what fascinate me the most. I am always on the lookout for a new spin or an unexplored direction. They can be kind and caring or devilishly evil and I will happily devour them. And I know I’m not the only one who feels that way.
We may be on the fringe, the perpetual vampire lovers, but we are always out there, waiting for that dark knight. Whenever we see a new novel come out, we keep our fingers crossed that it will lure us in and hold us captive. I endeavored to do that with Chaos and Moonlight. The hero, Taris, is centuries old. He’s tall and dark and broody and literally feels the weight of the world on his shoulders. I fall in love with him again every time I re-read it. He’s become part of a long line of vampires that have held my attention.
Louie and Lestat.
Vishous and Phury.
Vampires are my guilty pleasure and I will never apologize for it.
A.D. Marrow is a registered Sapiophile, a proud geek since before geek was chic, and believes that everyone deserves a happily ever after.
She lives in the foothills of North Carolina with her ridiculously hot and amazingly supportive husband, three kids that rock so hard there should be a national holiday for their awesomeness, two really stupid dogs and a plethora of Post-it notes with book ideas to last her until she’s 90.
Her childhood dream is realized in the fact that YOU have cause to read her bio. She hopes that one day, it lends her enough credibility to live out her second dream, which is to write an episode of Doctor Who.
Her personal mantra echoes that of Morticia Addams: “Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.”
Chaos and Moonlight
Order of the Nines
Publisher: Full Fathom Five Digital
Date of Publication: May 6th, 2015
ISBN: 978-1-63370-053-6 (epub)
ISBN: 978-1-63370-054-3 (mobi)
Number of pages: 280
Word Count: 91,993
Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde Media
The Nines, an elite group of vampires, was established to stand as protection for their race. Fractured by centuries of betrayal and loss, the group is now little more than myth, its remaining members scarred and shattered.
Taris, the oldest living vampire, is no stranger to loss and heartbreak. He is all that holds the Nines together as they struggle to save themselves from total extinction.
Enter the beautiful and brilliant Dr. Sarah Bridgeman, whose medical research has resulted in a breakthrough for both humans and vampires. Her work may be the salvation this weary band of guardians has been looking for.
Taris needs to reach Sarah and enlist her help—before those aligned against him can act. Can a vampire king convince a stunning young scientist to save a species that isn’t even supposed to exist?
For now, only one thing is certain: no science can explain the explosive chemistry between them.
Chaos and Moonlight is the first installment in the Order of the Nines series, and is A. D. Marrow’s debut novel.
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“It was several minutes before Sarah realized she wasn’t dreaming. The tall guy in her room, the creepy guy on the stairs, all of it had been real. After about five miles of telling herself to wake up, then looking at the tall guy who was driving, then pinching herself, then telling herself to wake up again, then looking at the tall guy some more, reality and the promise of a full-fledged panic attack set in.
“I swear, if you let me go, I won’t tell anyone, okay?” Sarah finally found her voice. She had a moment where she thought that maybe this was a dream again, judging by the way the driver of the car looked. He was dark and mysterious, chiseled from head to toe—she should know, she all but crawled into him when they were running away from that other guy. She couldn’t make out much in the dark of the truck’s cab, but even in the faint light of the street lamps, something about this guy made her feel different. Maybe it was his voice—that deep, gravelly, slightly British voice. Maybe it was the smell that came off him, that man-mixed-with-leather-and-aftershave smell.
“Who are you?” Her damned voice box rebelled against her and her question came out in a whisper.
He was focused on the road, his eyes never leaving it as he maneuvered the giant diesel truck in and out of the one a.m. traffic. “I’ll explain everything when we get to where we are going. In the meantime, just sit back and try to relax, okay?”
“Relax? Okay, yeah. I was taken out of my bed in the middle of the night by some guy I don’t even know, and then I was chased up the stairwell by a Sherman tank of a drag queen, and you tell me to relax? Yeah right, pal! Listen, seriously, whatever ransom you’re asking for, I can pay it. Just bring me to an ATM, and you can have whatever you want, okay? Just let me go.”
“It’s not that simple, Dr. Bridgeman.”
“The hell it’s not. Look, just let me out, and anything you want, it’s yours. Cross my heart, I won’t tell a soul you took me.” She made a little crisscross motion over her heart.
“Like I said, Dr. Bridgeman, it’s not that simple. I don’t need your money. I need you to do a job for me. That Sherman tank drag queen apparently wants you to do the same job. I think, circumstances being what they are, you might want to consider working for me.”
“Work, my ass.” Sarah mumbled to herself. “Who the hell are you, anyway? And what job could I possibly do for you? I’m a medical researcher, you dickhead.”
He didn’t bother looking at her. He took in a deep breath and let out a long sigh.
“My name is Taris. I’m an eight-hundred-year-old vampire, and I need you to use your medical research to help me stop the slow yet brutal extinction of a race of people who really do exist but are made into horror movie villains and romance novel heroes.”
When he was met with silence, he glanced over to see her passed out cold in the seat.
“I knew it wouldn’t work.”
5 print copies of NYT Bestseller Dorothy Must Die