I was so pleased to find out last week that am once again a winner in the Readers' Favorite Book Awards! My second November Snow novel, She Lights Up the Dark, received second place in the category of Supernatural Fiction!
This marks the fifth time a book in the November Snow Series has been recognized by a major indie publishing award.
If you haven't yet read She Light Up the Dark, the sequel to She Dies at the End, here is an excerpt:
I died. I'm a vampire.
For a moment, she wasn't certain if she would laugh or weep. The amazed cackle that escaped between her fingers settled that question. It was only after the glow of feeding had faded that she noticed the pandemonium that had erupted around her.
They were looking for something. Zinnia was on the ground. She looked completely undone. And Ilyn . . . Ilyn looked terrible. It took November a long, confused moment to realize that what they were looking for . . . was her. She stood up, covered in blood, and looked at her companions uncomprehendingly.
“I’m right here,” she proclaimed, waving her hands in front of Hazel’s face. “Hello? Can you hear me?”
She looked down at her own body, and it was perfectly visible and solid to her.
"Zinnia? Ilyn?"
She tried to touch her maker, reaching out a hand to toward his arm. Her blood-stained fingers passed right through him.
"It’s no use, kitten. They cannot hear you.”
November closed her eyes, willing that familiar voice to disappear, praying she’d imagined it. When she got up the nerve to turn around, rage filled her, and she tackled Luka to the ground, fangs bared, screaming like a madwoman, “What have you done?”
He looked up at her, unconcerned, and laughed delightedly.
“Oh, my, vampirism certainly does become you, November. More beautiful than ever. So savage," he winked. "But as much as I enjoy having you on top of me, it is a bit distracting. Another time.”
He threw her off of himself with ease, as the newborn was no match for the strength of his eight centuries as a vampire.
She landed lightly on her feet and demanded again, in a voice quieter but no less hostile, “What have you done?”
“Do allow me to apologize for the sniper, by the way. He's lucky he's already dead. It pains me to think how you might have suffered in your final human moments. As for your current invisibility . . . Ilyn managed to steal you from me: the final victory of a dying man. I have simply employed Willow to steal you back by hiding you quite thoroughly. Thank you for saving her life, by the way. That was most helpful. Perhaps after a few decades you’ll learn to be less merciful."
"But you lost," she argued with a childlike stubbornness. She shook her head in disbelief. "They defeated you. We defeated you."
His smile was a strange mix of pity and gloating. "Do I really strike you as the type to put all my eggs in one basket, kitten? For centuries, I've been amassing personnel and real estate to support my plans. My base in the desert was merely an outpost. An outpost I no longer require.
"Regardless, these people can neither see nor hear you. If you write them a note, the words will disappear before they can read it. You cannot call them on the phone, text them, send them email. If you try to use a human to pass on a message, they will fail. Post a video on YouTube, use Snapchat . . . well, you get the idea. There is not a single vampire, fairy, or werewolf on God’s green earth who can receive your communication except with my permission. The most you could manage is perhaps a game of twenty questions. I don't really understand how it works, but there you have it.”
He smiled. “The bottom line is that I am your only friend now, kitten.”
November shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I would rather be alone forever than be with you.”
Luka walked toward her, his manner strangely gentle. “You say that now, of course. You think you hate me. You think you know what loneliness is from your hospitals and your carnies and your trailer trash adolescence with your ridiculous excuse for a mother.
"But forever is a long time. And now you’ve tasted what it is to have a family, and you won’t be able to bear true isolation for long. Being a newborn vampire is not easy. You need help. You need someone to teach you, to comfort you. Young vampires need physical affection as much human children do. Perhaps more. They need to rest in the arms of their kin.
"Moreover, you don’t know how to be a vampire safely. You don't know how to enthrall. You don’t know how your transformation will affect your clairvoyance. You don’t know how to feed without killing. How many human carcasses will you leave rotting in the dirt before you show up at my door? How many innocents will you kill before you bow to the inevitable? Savita managed to slaughter an entire village in under a minute one dark night, and it took her a century to recover.”
“As though you care about innocent people,” she spat, furious but unable to look away from him.
“I don’t, except insofar as I don’t like waste or the complications of disposal. But you do care. At least for now. We can help each other, November. Just come with me. No tricks. No imprisonment. You can temper my excesses. I’ll take care of you. Together, we'll reshape the world."
“I’d rather die,” she replied, her voice dripping with acid. "I can always go sunbathing if I can't hack it on my own."
“I don’t think so. If suicide was in you, you'd have succeeded at it a long time ago. I think you have a remarkable will to live. There’s fight in you. Inspiring, really. Lovely. Unfortunately, your maker lacks your fire.”
He took her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her around to face the others. She struggled, trying to pull away from his grasp, but his grip was too strong.
“Look at him. You’ve managed what 2500 years failed to do. Even after my mother’s murder and his inexcusable failure to find her killer, he managed to plod on another few centuries. But not this time . . . Look at his face. You’ve broken him. You gave him hope, and now it’s gone. And he will never find it again.”
This marks the fifth time a book in the November Snow Series has been recognized by a major indie publishing award.
If you haven't yet read She Light Up the Dark, the sequel to She Dies at the End, here is an excerpt:
I died. I'm a vampire.
For a moment, she wasn't certain if she would laugh or weep. The amazed cackle that escaped between her fingers settled that question. It was only after the glow of feeding had faded that she noticed the pandemonium that had erupted around her.
They were looking for something. Zinnia was on the ground. She looked completely undone. And Ilyn . . . Ilyn looked terrible. It took November a long, confused moment to realize that what they were looking for . . . was her. She stood up, covered in blood, and looked at her companions uncomprehendingly.
“I’m right here,” she proclaimed, waving her hands in front of Hazel’s face. “Hello? Can you hear me?”
She looked down at her own body, and it was perfectly visible and solid to her.
"Zinnia? Ilyn?"
She tried to touch her maker, reaching out a hand to toward his arm. Her blood-stained fingers passed right through him.
"It’s no use, kitten. They cannot hear you.”
November closed her eyes, willing that familiar voice to disappear, praying she’d imagined it. When she got up the nerve to turn around, rage filled her, and she tackled Luka to the ground, fangs bared, screaming like a madwoman, “What have you done?”
He looked up at her, unconcerned, and laughed delightedly.
“Oh, my, vampirism certainly does become you, November. More beautiful than ever. So savage," he winked. "But as much as I enjoy having you on top of me, it is a bit distracting. Another time.”
He threw her off of himself with ease, as the newborn was no match for the strength of his eight centuries as a vampire.
She landed lightly on her feet and demanded again, in a voice quieter but no less hostile, “What have you done?”
“Do allow me to apologize for the sniper, by the way. He's lucky he's already dead. It pains me to think how you might have suffered in your final human moments. As for your current invisibility . . . Ilyn managed to steal you from me: the final victory of a dying man. I have simply employed Willow to steal you back by hiding you quite thoroughly. Thank you for saving her life, by the way. That was most helpful. Perhaps after a few decades you’ll learn to be less merciful."
"But you lost," she argued with a childlike stubbornness. She shook her head in disbelief. "They defeated you. We defeated you."
His smile was a strange mix of pity and gloating. "Do I really strike you as the type to put all my eggs in one basket, kitten? For centuries, I've been amassing personnel and real estate to support my plans. My base in the desert was merely an outpost. An outpost I no longer require.
"Regardless, these people can neither see nor hear you. If you write them a note, the words will disappear before they can read it. You cannot call them on the phone, text them, send them email. If you try to use a human to pass on a message, they will fail. Post a video on YouTube, use Snapchat . . . well, you get the idea. There is not a single vampire, fairy, or werewolf on God’s green earth who can receive your communication except with my permission. The most you could manage is perhaps a game of twenty questions. I don't really understand how it works, but there you have it.”
He smiled. “The bottom line is that I am your only friend now, kitten.”
November shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I would rather be alone forever than be with you.”
Luka walked toward her, his manner strangely gentle. “You say that now, of course. You think you hate me. You think you know what loneliness is from your hospitals and your carnies and your trailer trash adolescence with your ridiculous excuse for a mother.
"But forever is a long time. And now you’ve tasted what it is to have a family, and you won’t be able to bear true isolation for long. Being a newborn vampire is not easy. You need help. You need someone to teach you, to comfort you. Young vampires need physical affection as much human children do. Perhaps more. They need to rest in the arms of their kin.
"Moreover, you don’t know how to be a vampire safely. You don't know how to enthrall. You don’t know how your transformation will affect your clairvoyance. You don’t know how to feed without killing. How many human carcasses will you leave rotting in the dirt before you show up at my door? How many innocents will you kill before you bow to the inevitable? Savita managed to slaughter an entire village in under a minute one dark night, and it took her a century to recover.”
“As though you care about innocent people,” she spat, furious but unable to look away from him.
“I don’t, except insofar as I don’t like waste or the complications of disposal. But you do care. At least for now. We can help each other, November. Just come with me. No tricks. No imprisonment. You can temper my excesses. I’ll take care of you. Together, we'll reshape the world."
“I’d rather die,” she replied, her voice dripping with acid. "I can always go sunbathing if I can't hack it on my own."
“I don’t think so. If suicide was in you, you'd have succeeded at it a long time ago. I think you have a remarkable will to live. There’s fight in you. Inspiring, really. Lovely. Unfortunately, your maker lacks your fire.”
He took her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her around to face the others. She struggled, trying to pull away from his grasp, but his grip was too strong.
“Look at him. You’ve managed what 2500 years failed to do. Even after my mother’s murder and his inexcusable failure to find her killer, he managed to plod on another few centuries. But not this time . . . Look at his face. You’ve broken him. You gave him hope, and now it’s gone. And he will never find it again.”
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