Please share a little about yourself, your genres,
any other pen names you use.
I’m Angela Louise McGurk, I’m focusing on writing
urban fantasy at the moment but I have plans for historical fiction, fantasy,
and science fiction too. I’m also trained in architectural technology and have
some art education. I designed my own cover art for Bite the Bullet, my current
release.
Tell us a little about your latest or upcoming
release.
My latest release was Bite the Bullet: Vampire
Cohorts Book One. This urban fantasy follows a reluctant vampire convert as she
enters the vampire world and discovers nothing about her life is quite what it
seemed. She has to contend with murderers and jealousies, as well as a vampire
maker who is no happier about getting close to her as she is about being
connected to him.
Here's an excerpt, you can also find further
details on my website and facebook page.
Prologue
The Choice I Never Had
“Shall we
begin like David Copperfield?
‘I am born... I grew up.’ Or shall we begin when I was born to darkness, as I
call it? That's really where we should start, don't you think?”
-Louis de Pointe du Lac,
Interview
with the Vampire
1994, (film adaptation)
Perhaps Louis de
Pointe du Lac was correct, perhaps that’s where my story should begin too. The
words, taken from a film which I’d seen many times, imply that my life before
was irrelevant. They infer that it was a fleeting dream before my re-birth as
something ‘other’. That’s what they
told me too, the people who stripped away my humanity. The past was irrelevant
and my future, my immediate future, would be lived at another’s pleasure.
I’m bound
now, to my Sire.
But that
wasn’t the beginning either. Let me tell you what it was to be made vampire. It wasn’t birth. Birth implies
pushing, tearing forth into the light, screaming. Becoming immortal was to be
pulled, to be tugged irrevocably into darkness, and it was silent.
That’s what
it is to be vampire; dark and silent. We are the shadows, the ones you catch
out of the corner of your eye only to have them vanish when you turn to look.
We are that darker shade in the blackness of the night.
The cool
breeze that touches your throat on a frosty evening? That airy caress which
causes you to shiver and wrap your scarf more securely around your neck? That’s
us too, when we’ve come close enough to bite but decided you aren’t the flavour
of the night. Not the present night, at least.
You should
fear each inexplicable shiver. Don’t laugh and say, “Someone’s just walked over
my grave”. Turn immediately and lash out. Fight, even if you think you’re
alone. God knows I wish I’d done so. It wouldn’t have stopped him. Nothing
would have stopped him, but I could’ve been proud of myself. Instead, I’m
ashamed.
I’m ashamed
because I felt him there. I felt his towering body press against my back as I
stood at the bus stop, waiting for the last ride home. His lips brushed my
neck, his touch several degrees cooler than human, and inexplicably, I’d
frozen. I was immobilised, without even the urge
to fight.
It was an
illogical, dangerous, reaction.
I should
have fought, any person should fight, but my mind had been filled with a hazy
calm which forbade any battle. Struggling had been the last thing on my mind,
even when my bus arrived and my assailant waved it on, dismissing my last hope
of escape.
Yet my lack
of rebellion was far from the most unsettling part of the stranger’s control
over me. The truth was that the man could’ve asked anything of me and I
would’ve complied, but he didn’t need to vocalise his request. I knew
instinctively what he wanted. I sighed and surrendered myself as he held me
against his front in a lover’s embrace, tipping my head and willingly giving
him access to my throat.
“One day
you’ll understand,” he whispered, his tone subdued, before he licked my skin
and tasted me for the first time.
The strange
mix of local Geordie and lilting Irish in his accent was seductive, but his
tone was tinged with uncertainty. I’ve often wondered since if he was really
talking to me. Perhaps he’d been talking to himself, persuading himself that
one day I’d know and accept his reasons for what he’d planned for me. At the
time, my mind wasn’t clear enough to dwell on the strangeness of his claim.
His fangs
broke the flesh of my throat with a soft pop. There was a second of fiery pain
before the cold, the numbness, seeped through me. The chill began where his
mouth worked, sucking hungrily at the wound he’d created. My arms became heavy
and my legs grew weaker until he, the faceless, nameless creature behind me,
had to support my weight. Even then he didn’t stop, and as he pulled my
lifeblood from my body a strange tugging sensation bloomed inside me, becoming
stronger with each swallow.
It started
at my core, in some deep, primal part of me which had nothing to do with
rational thought or fickle emotion. I felt it in my belly, in my gut, a thread
forming which bound me to the man at my back. Through him, because of him, new
parts of me awoke. There was a hunger like nothing I’d ever felt, a burning
need which increased as the pull became ever more uncompromising. It didn’t
hurt, not exactly, but I knew it would do if I didn’t slake my thirst. I needed
to be satisfied and he knew what to give me.
When he
raised his wrist to my lips, I forced my still human teeth into his flesh. He
growled as I bit him roughly, the arm he was using to support me tightening
around my waist. There was nothing special about his blood. Nothing obvious, at
least. It was warm and coppery and what remained of my rational thought
demanded that I spit it out, that I rebel against what the stranger was
demanding of me.
I couldn’t.
As hot
liquid spilled down my throat the pulling sensation urged me to give in, to
relinquish my humanity and set some wild thing free. With each draw, his blood
grew sweeter on my tongue. With each needy suck my vision grew dimmer, darker,
until there was nothing but unbroken blackness and my willingness to let him
tear everything I was from my body.
I knew that
when I woke, I’d be different. Altered. I’d be something which I’d never wanted
to become. In that moment, I didn’t care. It felt like a dream; a strange,
ghastly, and yet exquisite fantasy. The dream drew me down into the most
primitive, inherent part of who I was, to a place where I would both find and
lose myself. I loved and loathed that place, and I knew that when I left it,
the ‘me’ I’d been would no longer exist.
Eventually,
even that understanding abandoned me, and when my comprehension failed, I
floated into a nothingness that seemed as though it would be eternal.
Are you a mom?
I am, to a three year old boy and a four year old
girl.
If yes do you find it hard to juggle writing and
parenting?
It is hard. It’s hard to juggle work and children,
but I’m quite used to it. There have been some scenes, some dark scenes, that
I’ve hated writing with a child on my knee. Now that my daughter’s learning to
read, I’m going to have to be careful what I write in front of her. It’s certainly interesting trying to write
around kids, it keeps me busy.
Have you ever based your book or characters on
actual events or people from your own life?
Some of the interactions between characters were loosely
influenced by friendships and rivalries I’ve experienced.
Is there a theme or message in your work that you
would like readers to connect to?
That’s a hard question. I’ve already written most of
the series and throughout all the books there are themes about being brave,
fighting on, holding onto hope, loving, trusting friends, learning to trust
yourself while also learning to accept your flaws and mistakes. In a way, Bite
the Bullet is setting the scene for the much larger story, but it remains an exploration
of trust and deceit.
When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have
any hobbies or guilty pleasures?
I love camping, kayaking and drawing. My beta
readers are trying to persuade me to do an illustrated version of the book with
my own drawings.
Which romance book or series (or other genre, if you
don’t write romance) do you wish you had written?
I really wish I’d written either the Chicagoland
Vampire series by Chloe Neill or Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien. I don’t
write much straight up romance, I tend to mix romance with a lot of fantasy. My
preferred genres are fantasy and urban fantasy.
Of all the characters you’ve ever written, who is
your favorite and why?
I love both Conn and Darcy. Darcy is the heroine of
Bite the Bullet, and Conn the reluctant hero. I’m actually writing book six
currently while editing two, and I just love the way their relationship has
developed and how they’ve grown as characters over the course of the series.
If this book is part of a series…what is the next
book? Any details you can share?
The next book in the series is Another Bite and I’m
hoping it’ll be out in 2016. It follows on from where book one ends, so I can’t
give much away at the moment. ;)
What book are you reading now?
I’ve just downloaded The Iron Sword by Jocelyn A Fox
and Blood Kiss by J. R. Ward so I’ll be starting those soon. Once my book
launch is behind me, I’m going to take some reading days.
Bite the Bullet
Vampire Cohorts
Book One
Angela Louise McGurk
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Angela Louise McGurk
Date of Publication: 12 December 2015
ISBN: 9781310584299
ASIN: B018EK7082
Number of pages: 324
Word Count: 116,000
Cover Artist: Angela Louise McGurk
Book Description:
Let me tell you what it was to be made vampire. It wasn’t birth. Birth implies pushing, tearing forth into the light, screaming. Becoming immortal was to be pulled, to be tugged irrevocably into darkness, and it was silent.
I should have fought, any person should fight, but my mind had been filled with a hazy calm which forbade any battle. Struggling had been the last thing on my mind, even when my bus arrived and my assailant waved it on, dismissing my last hope of escape.
Yet my lack of rebellion was far from the most unsettling part of the stranger’s control over me. The truth was that the man could’ve asked anything of me and I would’ve complied, but he didn’t need to vocalise his request. I knew instinctively what he wanted. I sighed and surrendered myself as he held me against his front in a lover’s embrace, tipping my head and willingly giving him access to my throat.
“One day you’ll understand,” he whispered, his tone subdued. I’ve often wondered since if he was really talking to me. Perhaps he’d been talking to himself, persuading himself that one day I’d know and accept his reasons for what he’d planned for me.
I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Because when my fangs came in, my world altered irrevocably. It became somewhere dark, somewhere filled with murder and blood, where magic was sinister and where even my closest ally seemed more like an enemy... Even if he did make my heart skip a beat.
About the Author:
Angela grew up in a small pit village in the county of Northumberland in England. Currently she lives in an entirely different pit village in the same county, along with her husband and their two children. She qualified in Architectural Technology and has worked in construction, as well as running her own wedding stationery and graphic design business. Currently Angela's time is taken up with chasing a three year old, a four year old and a kid in his thirties who really should know better. Between that she works, writes and draws.
She is currently writing the final book in the Vampire Cohort series while editing the first book in the series for publication, as well as trying to store up the hundred other stories which are always racing around in her mind! While a love of writing has always been part of Angela's life, in recent years it has become a daily requirement. The vampires, werewolves, gods and fae just won't leave her alone!
Among Angela's other loves are camping, kayaking, the Lake District and history. She is a bit of a sci-fi geek, a bit of a Joss Whedon fan, and has such an eclectic taste in music it would take pages to write down what she likes.
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