Ha ha, that confused you, didn’t it? There I go, off on a random train of thought yet again. I will be honest, my Muse has awakened again, and she is feeling mischievous. She is also quite productive, having inspired me to write and submit another short story to a writing competition at very short notice. But that is not relevant here. Almost, but not quite. Why did I make such a bold, and crude, statement?
You can thank my darling husband for this. Now you know where I am going. My apologies to my male readers if I offend, but I am feeling rather fed up with my husband’s apparently uncontrollable flatulence of late. He actually seems proud of his very smelly and unpleasant bodily functions. I know it is a natural process. We all do it. Yes, I get that, but surely we don’t do it in such loud and stinky volumes as my husband does. I’m sure he saves it all up for the weekend just to upset me!
I have been pondering lately about why I am drawn to write about vampires, and all things vampire related in my stories. Actually, I have turned towards writing about vampire slayers recently, which is quite an interesting exercise. I am even watching the complete box set of the television series Buffy The Vampire Slayer, which I never got round to watching all the way through before. And I love it! I think this is responsible for my Muse awakening again; well this, and the first two series of Grimm, which I also discovered recently and totally adore.
But despite the slaying, and the whole theory that vampires are evil and must be destroyed, I still love them, deep down. Jack Mason, my anti-hero from the Redcliffe novels, is a passionate, dangerous and deeply sexual being. You never quite know where you stand with him. Similarly for the Victorian playboy Marcus Scott, who introduced himself in the Redcliffe novels and then forced me to write his story in The Darkness of Love. Ooh, I do enjoy my fantasy lovers… and they smell so much more pleasant! You have a lovely day now…
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*Image of Count Homercula courtesy of Toymania