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Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Wednesday Spotlight: Denyse Bridger

Do you ever wonder the ideas come from for some of the most interesting concepts and stories you encounter? One of my latest releases, a non-erotic–all three of them are non-erotic which is a nice change–happened to come about when I was with an actor friend at a convention appearance and he was asked about the origins of a vampire character he was playing in his television series. They hadn’t really made a point of telling the audience much about who he was or how he was “created” and he had very intriguing ideas about it. We talked later in his room and I told him I loved one of the ideas he’d proposed, then asked if he’d mind me writing it. He was totally cool with the idea, so Prelude to Eternity was written. Because it’s about vampires, I considered several things, among them the roots of the whole mythos. If we go back to Dracula, there is a legendary link between Christianity and vampires, so in this short story I ask the question why, and propose an answer that makes some readers shudder, and others angry. So, what do you all think is the connection, and why do ALL early vampire stories present Christian symbolism as the very bane of vampire existence?

Prelude to Eternity is available here: XOXO Publishing.

Ever wonder why a vampire cannot walk in the light of the sun... why he was cursed to nocturnal existence.... reviled by all... a symbol of evil? I have a theory... the Prelude to Eternity....


The man was dying. Alexander had a keen sense of encroaching death. He was often the cause of it. Angelo della morte – Angel of Death.

He wasn’t sure if the words inside his head were his own, or a whisper from the man who was near death before him. It was an appropriate name to give him, the most honest of the many he’d taken over the past several centuries.

A chill touched his spine.

The shadows were growing longer, yet the sun blazed infinitely brighter behind the figure who commanded the former priest’s enraptured attention.

‘You have damned your kind to a darkness greater than any you have known before.’

Again the words whispered softly, sadly, into his barren consciousness.

As Alexander watched, the sun passed behind the prisoner. He stood, immobile, and felt the shadow of the cross settle over him. Pain, a searing, fiery force that drove him to his knees burned into his dead flesh. He was being torn apart from within, and was helpless to move. Ice flooded through him in the fire’s wake. Again, he was paralyzed by the onslaught of terror and anguish.

For endless, eternal minutes, Alexander writhed before the cross. His mind screamed in a steady litany of agonized horror and emerging understanding. The darkness grew absolute around him and his pain eclipsed all other awarenesses…

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