Vicki Keire
Vicki Keire grew up in a 19th Century haunted house in the Deep South full of books, abandoned coal chutes, and plenty of places to get into trouble with her siblings. She holds degrees in English Literature with specialties in the 18th Century, Romanticism, and Postcolonial Theory. She spent the last decade teaching writing and literature at a large, football obsessed university while slipping paranormal fiction in between the pages of her textbooks.
When not reading and writing about all things paranormal, she indulges in her eclectic musical tastes, enjoys other people's cooking, keeps vampire hours, and adds to her massive stockpile of quirky t-shirts and blank but designer notebooks. She'd rather burn the laundry than fold it. She believes that when an author wins the Newberry, he or she gets a secret lifetime pass to Neverland. She still lives in the Deep South with her husband, two children, two dogs, and three cats, but is pretty sure her house isn't haunted. A person can't be so lucky twice.
Gifts of the Blood is the first of a trilogy set in the mythical town of Whitfield, where she has several other paranormal series planned. Whitfield is a compilation of all she loves about her upbringing with a sprinkling of the things she doesn't. She spends time there when stymied on other projects, but also because it's an interesting world in its own right. Even though she created it and the people who live there, it still has the power to surprise her. She hopes you enjoy it as much as she does. You can learn more about it and her other projects at:
Website: http://vickikeire.com/
Blog:http://vickikeire.blogspot.com/
“We learned three things together, that first day of Ethan's humanity: skin warms skin, silver eyes light darkness, and our heartbeats measured time together, so that we knew we were no longer alone.”
“Stupid blind Russian wizard," I swore softly. "I'm getting a raise out of this somehow.”
“You must be very embarrassed," I heard myself say.He snorted and tightened his grip. "I hardly find slicing E'than'i'el open embarrassing. And you have other things to worry about. Like the fact that, over the long years of my exile, I have developed a taste for human hearts.""Right. Of course." I took a deep, steadying breath. "I only meant that I would die of shame if I had thousands of years of pictures of me in a diaper with feather dusters on my back.”
“Some few of my brothers had walked among humans and dared to love human women. These Nephilim loved fiercely and deeply. It seemed to me they had been struck with a sickness, or taken prisoner, and I dared to pity them. How sad, I thought, to Fall because of love. Until it happened to me.”
“You're a talented artist," he began, and I burst into more tears. He jumped up, agitated, and tried to give the book back to me. "What?" he demanded anxiously. "I mean it! You are! Orange is tricky!”
“I let myself feel the fear, give in to it completely, for the space of several deep, long breaths. Then, because I had no other choice, I let it go.”
“Even in the Dreamtime, cats do what they damn well please.”
“You have a most pressing offer from the cable company....It is a time sensitive offer, you know. I thought you would be grateful.”
“Do I look like a shallow Summer girl to you?' She tossed her silver hair, offended. 'I’m a Winter Court royal. I kill silly Summer flowerlets with frost when I yawn.”
“Maybe none of us can choose who we love, Cas. None of the lucky ones, anyway. The only choice we have is how we serve that love. And Ethan’s made his choice. What about you? Are you going to reject it, or make the best of what you’ve been given?”
“Only in darkness could the light be so completely, brightly beautiful.”