By
Aurelia T. Evans (Guest Blogger)
I
am an overly emotional person, except when I’m not.
Sometimes
my emotions get so intense that the only solution is for some
enterprising up-and-coming technician in my brain to turn the switch
off for a while. The technical term is ‘dissociation.’ Authors
are no strangers to dissociation. It’s practically a job
requirement, not a symptom. The only problem is when it extends
beyond when I’m writing and into my real life. The numbness, the
inability to feel anything but emptiness, disconnected—it sure
beats feeling like I’m stuck in the bottom of Jame Gumb’s Silence
of the Lambs pit. It lets me stay functional. But it has its own
problems, as you might imagine.
Most
of my characters find themselves in the grips of powerful emotions.
Sex magnifies everything. From passion to anger to fear to love,
romance and erotica lends itself to torrents of feeling.
Julia
is different.
She’s
not the first character I’ve written who’s lost her memory. Tora,
from Wolf Girl (coming out at the end of the year), has her
memory wiped away by an external force. She’s a creature of pure
emotion, since that’s all she has. Julia, from my vampire serial
Bloodbound, took quite a different turn. When awareness
returns to her, she’s cold, numb, emotions as stripped away as her
memory, although not stripped away because of her memory.
Writing
Julia was an interesting exercise. She’s not as easy for people to
identify with, harder to pin down, harder to connect with because she
can’t connect with herself. She’s a cold fish, a hard woman,
bleached in mind and body. The qualities that appeal to the vampire
love interest in question, Nathan, aren’t her stunning good looks
or sparkling personality. Yet the vampire priest and I agree—she’s
fascinating, especially the things going on beneath the blank surface
of her thoughts. Because she’s far from empty.
Julia
is damaged as a fallen family photograph. Something in her head is
splintered. Bridges were destroyed long before her memory failed her.
I find Julia darkly appealing, and I relate to her damaged side more
than some of the other relatively well-adjusted characters that I’ve
written. If someone wants a more connected character, I have plenty
of others to choose from (since I have quite a few stories coming out
this year and the next). Bloodbound is Julia’s story, the
story of a woman whose coldness has helped her survive. And that’s
how I like it.
The
serial novel Bloodbound is my first attempt at
self-publishing—it only seems appropriate that I get to start the
process with an atypical protagonist. I’ve been making noise about
indie publishing for a while, but I’m finally forcing myself to
just do it. It helps that I have a banging cover—that’s one of
the main reasons I’ve pushed myself to actually do it.
I’m
nervous and cautiously excited, since self-publishing means
everything’s on me. But erotica is fortunately an indie-friendly
genre, and I have a wonderful support system for the process.
Allow
me the pleasure of introducing you to Julia and some of the other
characters in the first book in the Bloodbound serial, Blood
Lost.
Blurb
Bloodstains
on her clothing and bloodlust between the sheets, she’s never been
more lost…and that’s why he chooses her.
As
if wandering the streets in bloody clothes after losing her memory
isn’t bad enough, Julia’s been kidnapped by vampires, then
presented to Nathan, high priest of Dominion.
Nathan’s
not interested in a bleeder, perfectly content with fellow priest
Lucas as his companion, lover, and willing servant. However, when
Lucas offers her to him, Julia’s endearing confusion and lack of
fear intrigue him.
With
nowhere else to go without her memories, Julia accepts his offer and
embarks on a sensual but deadly journey into the world of Dominion
and its arrogant, esoteric elite…as well as the darkness of her own
desires and the mystery of her past.
Excerpt
“Get
the fuck off me, you fucking leech, evil prick, wannabe demon!”
Monica struggled, kicking her legs back and forth, trying to scratch
the priest with her good hand, but he somehow managed to evade every
single attack.
“You
think you’re the first fighter I’ve brought to him?” the priest
said, laughing. All the kindness had drained out of his demeanor,
although the warmth of his voice made his cold declarations all the
chillier.
Now
would be the perfect time for Julia to try to escape while the priest
distracted himself with Monica, but this time there was no chance of
saving Monica if Julia left now. It wasn’t that there was no point
in saving herself, but there was less point. She had nowhere to go,
no reason to save herself when there wasn’t a whole lot of self to
save.
And
even if she wanted to try just for the sake of blind hope, the dust
motes in the center aisle moonbeam were coalescing as Monica fought,
her jabs becoming more focused but no less futile. Julia hesitated
with one foot on the stage and the other off, the younger girl
trailing behind her and clinging to her shoulder to hold her back.
“I
think that’s quite enough, children.”
Monica
stopped fighting and instead stared, stunned, at the man coming up
the center aisle.
Like
the priest holding Monica, this man appeared at first glance
unobtrusive, his presence quiet. Like the priest, he wore the
uniform, but his clerical collar was black instead of white. His skin
was naturally tan but somehow still managed to appear pale, as though
the color underneath the translucent golden layer had leached out.
The priest’s smile was gentle, but this new man’s smile—though
following the same curve—gave the impression of a stalking cat
rather than a content one. Although he didn’t appear old, his hair
was prematurely silver all the way through, as though touched by
frost, with lowlights of slate gray near the scalp where the hair was
denser.
And
whereas the priest’s eyes were nearly black, this man’s were
nearly white. They pierced instead of welcomed, and although she
wasn’t proud of it, Julia lowered her gaze when they attempted to
bore through to the mind beneath her skull.
“My
Master,” the priest breathed with religious reverence. “Kneel,
woman,” he told Monica, but he truly addressed all three. “Kneel
with me before your Master.”
“I
kneel to no one,” Monica retorted. However, even she was shocked
and awed by this unassuming man that somehow dominated the entire
room just by existing, his appearance as average as it was
inexplicably alien. She dropped to the floor when the priest buckled
her knees with a solid kick.
The
priest, too, knelt to honor the man, keeping a hold around Monica’s
neck.
The
younger girl collapsed not onto her knees but to the side, sobbing
renewed as though she did not know how to stop. Julia forgot about
her as soon as the girl released her grip on Julia and left her
standing.
The
white gold of the man’s skin was cool on her chin where he brushed
his fingers like a frigid winter wind. Ever so gradually, he lowered
his hand and she lowered herself with it. Anything to keep from
looking into those eyes. He withdrew when she knelt at his feet.
“Rise.”
The
priest gripping Monica stood in a single graceful motion, intimately
familiar with the act. He pulled Monica up with him. The younger girl
quivered as though she could feel the master’s chill from three
feet away. She might not have even heard the man’s command as she
proceeded to simply dissolve into a pool of exhaustion and fear.
Julia
stood up and stepped back onto the stage, away from the man. She kept
her eyes downcast, but not in deference.
“So
these are the women you’ve chosen for me, Lucas,” the man said.
He paced before the stage. Julia could hear that smile when he added,
“I can tell you have reached the end of your patience with me, if
these are the ones you have brought. Just picking them at random now,
are we?”
“I
tried picking them deliberately, but they were never what you
wanted,” the priest, Lucas, replied. “I apologize if these seem
like desperate selections.”
“Oh,
I understand,” the man said. “It is frustrating when your Master
cannot even articulate what he wants. How can you be expected to know
what intangible quality might appeal to me, what a woman must have to
feel right, when all you’ve ever known I liked was you?”
“Your
commands have never been a chore,” Lucas protested.
“No,
but you must indeed be at your wit’s end if that poor girl is any
indication. Come now, Lucas, you already knew she was too young. And
limp. A wisp of a thing not even fit for donation.”
The
fine, shiny, black shoes paused before the despairing heap of the
younger girl. That hand reached out and stroked across the girl’s
forehead. Her sobs abruptly ceased, her eyelids fluttering. In a few
seconds, she pitched forward. Her face almost hit the wooden stage,
but the man caught and cradled it before laying her down. Her back
rose and fell, which meant the girl was unconscious once more, not
dead.
A
mercy for all, Julia thought.
Bloodbound
Release Schedule:
Blood
Lost (Book 1) – February 14 (FREE!)
Bleeder’s
Ball (Book 2) – February 28
Blood
Pool (Book 3) – March 14
Blood
on the Moon (Book 4) – March 28
Bleeding
Heart (Book 5) – April 11
Bloodbound,
the Complete Serial Novel – May 9
Links to Bloodbound Book 1
(The ones listed as not yet free may be free by the time you check!)
Links
Bloodbound
serial novel page:
About
Aurelia
Aurelia
T. Evans is an up-and-coming erotica author with a penchant for
horror and the supernatural.
She's the twisted mind behind
the werewolf/shifter Sanctuary trilogy, demonic circus series
Arcanium (publication starts April 2015), and spiritual gothic/urban
fantasy series Meridian (publication TBD). She's also had short
stories featured in various erotic anthologies.
Aurelia
presently lives in Dallas, Texas (although she doesn't ride horses or
wear hats). She loves cats and enjoys baking as much as she dislikes
cooking. She's a walker, not a runner, and she writes outside as
often as possible.
