Digital ISBN: 978-0-9817144-0-0
Digital Publication Date: May 5, 2008
Cover art by Renee Rocco
For a person who used to be scared of the dark, I’ve come a long way--or plummeted into the depths of darkness. As I child, I would lay awake, my eyes on the closet door and the thin sliver of light cast beneath by the hall light. If I was home alone, I would turn on a light in every room. Now, I relish the night, revel in it’s velvet shadows and alabaster moon beams, and when it comes to writing, I delve into the dark, gritty heroines who have little left to lose, since the loss of their mortality.
Mercy Callahan is one of those tough heroines, her first life lost to an unscrupulous vampire, who seduced her, loved her and then left her to bleed and die alone. Ambrose became Mercy’s first kill. Not for blood, but the beauty of revenge. To sweeten the thrill, Mercy flaunts her vampire powers before Ambrose’s human wife Celeste, taunting her with the immortality she will never have.
That act set in motion a vendetta that would transcend two hundred years, and multiple lives as Celeste’s spirit haunts Mercy, biding time, waiting for a chance at her own revenge. In the present age, a coastal fishing town will become the final battle ground, with more than immortality on the line. Mercy has fallen for a man that Celeste’s current incarnation as Angel Macoby has claimed.
Mercy’s storyline came from this bit of flash fic I wrote years ago:
The angel breezed by, her wings sparkling and her halo askew. She giggled, a high sweet sound in the deepening twilight. A devil followed close behind, his tail dragging in the gravel, his pitchfork snagged on the angel’s skirts.
Then, their mother walked past. Each engrossed in their pursuit of sweet treats, and all oblivious to me.
I lay beneath a golden maple, upon the carpet of autumn’s splendor. A chill breeze unsettled my costume in its passage. And, the fallen leaves whispered softly beneath my weight--complaining, displeased that my blood stained them crimson…
I love the tone, the pacing and imagery, so I sank my teeth into that piece, draining it of its life blood, and turned it into Mercy’s tale of dark, empty nights, a haunted vampire with loneliness as her only true companion. Bits of that flash fic exist in the opening scenes of Prey for Mercy.
My love of imagery and lyrical writing made its way into the tale, as well, evident in the descriptive flow and especially in the Cotillion scene. On the flip side, my passion for MMA and combat arts, bled through in the fight scenes and final climatic battle. Big fun to write! My husband has often told me there is more than one Ann, and two of my different aspects come together in this story with its lyrical flow and action-packed battles.
Of all my heroines, under both pennames, Mercy remains one of my favorites. She is sexy, confident, and capable. She doesn’t back down from difficulties; when she finally finds the man that sets her undead heart pounding, she lets nothing stand in her way. And, to those who read this tale, know that more is coming. I spoke to my publisher and we’ve decided to expand Mercy’s tale into a full novel, and put her to print!