The first thing you should know is that Delilah S. Dawson’s new book isn’t a vampire novel. At all. Don’t let the fact that some people drink blood fool you for a second. Here’s the cover copy.
True love’s kiss isn’t enough for this Blud princess. But blood and music may win her heart forever. . . .
Delilah S. Dawson’s delightfully dark series takes readers into a clever new world of endless discoveries and sensuous encounters that will leave them breathless.
After four years crammed in a suitcase, drained and unconscious, Ahnastasia Feodor, Crown Princess of Freesia, is not sure which calls to her more: the sound of music or the scent of blood. The source of both is the handsome and mysterious Casper Sterling, once the most celebrated and self-centered musician in Sangland. Fortunately, bleeding one’s subjects dry is expected of Blud royalty. Much to Ahna’s frustration, however, the debauched and reckless enigma—he is definitely not a Bludman, though not exactly human either—is her only ticket back to her snow-rimmed and magical homeland. Ahna needs Casper’s help to defeat an evil sorceress and claim her throne—if she doesn’t drain him first. But as they team up for a harrowing journey filled with pirates and painted ladies, daimons and dashing Bludmen, her craving for blood becomes an unrelenting hunger of the heart. . . .
So what’s her Favorite Bit?
DELILAH S. DAWSON
A beautiful, half-dead princess and a drunk musician face off, a delicate bargain hanging between them. Does she beg him to help her, promise him riches or love?
No, she threatens to kill and eat him and then says this: Nothing shall be more beautiful than your death.
And that’s possibly the only thing that could convince him to help her. That’s where their romance begins.
If you’re a fan of Walt Whitman, you might recognize that quote as a slightly altered line from his poem Starting from Paumanok. It’s the first of dozens of little Whitman Easter eggs scattered throughout Wicked as She Wants, which seems like your basic steampunk paranormal romance but… isn’t.
My Blud series takes place in a parallel universe called Sang where half of the people and most of the wild animals are blood drinkers. Bludmen aren’t magical, undead, or sparkly; they’re simply a long-lived people who subsist on blood and are often ghettoized by the frightened humans. The bunnies are fuzzy little murderballs, and the horses are man-eating monster steeds.
And the world has other twisted versions of what we have on Earth, including analogous historical and literary figures that are slightly skewed. In Sang, Willem Sharkspeare wrote A Big Kerfuffle Over Nonesuch and Mr. Willowbee ran away with Miss MaryAnn in Sagacity and Susceptibility. The book’s heroine, Ahnastasia, is a Sangish version of Princess Anastasia Nicolaevna of the Romanov dynasty, albeit with fangs and talons. But for some reason, Walt Whitman never existed in Sang, which means there’s no version of Leaves of Grass, which leaves the book’s hero, Earth transplant Casper Sterling, sincerely vexed.
I still remember the chills I got the first time I read Whitman and understood that he’d perfectly captured the existential angst, spiritual joy, and earthy passion of humanity. Whitman became the secret muse of this book, and there are dozens of slightly altered quotes from his works in the text. Many of them are said by Ahna, especially at times when Casper might otherwise give up on her, their quest, or himself.
One of my favorite bits is when Ahna finds this written in his journal:
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin
Hoping to cease not until death
Fuck you, Walt Whitman.
Since Casper’s favorite writer doesn’t exist in the new world where he’s trapped, he’s desperate to cobble together as much as he can from the quotes he half-remembers. And it makes him furious that he can’t capture it exactly. Just as he’s a world-class pianist who has never been inspired to create his own unique works, so is he obsessed with
Whitman and focuses on recreating Leaves of Grass instead of writing his own poetry. For Ahna, who has never been to another world and doesn’t know of Walt Whitman, the words come unbidden, simply a part of who she is. And that helps Casper finally accept who *he* is, once he learns to really listen.
Part of the joy in hiding Easter eggs is knowing that every now and then, someone might pick up on one and smile. As an accidental romance writer who rages against the faction of the literary world that looks down on the romance genre, I also take a sneaky pride in mixing “real” literature into a book that Whitman fans might sneer at simply because there’s a buff dude with a ponytail and blouse on the cover and sex spelled out in delicious detail on the pages once Casper and Ahna get down to business.
I believe that reading and writing poetry can be empowering, and I also believe that reading and writing sex can be empowering. Whitman pushed boundaries with his philosophy on love and passion, and I hope that my book, in some small part, pays homage to his playful but serious rebellion.
Please consider this steampunk vampire sex book my barbaric yawp.
RELEVANT LINKS:
WICKED AS SHE WANTS: http://books.simonandschuster.
Website: http://www.delilahsdawson.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/
BIO:
Delilah S. Dawson is a native of Roswell, Georgia and the author of the paranormal romance Blud series for Pocket, including WICKED AS THEY COME, WICKED AS SHE WANTS, and two e-novellas, THE MYSTERIOUS MADAM MORPHO and THE PECULIAR PETS OF MISS PLEASANCE. Her first YA, a creepy paranormal called SERVANTS OF THE STORM will be available in 2014 from Simon Pulse. RT Book Reviews has called her “a wonderfully fresh new voice!” and “on the fast track to the top of the genre!”
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