Favorite books as a pre-teen.
It’s no surprise that I haven’t always been a reader. In fact, even though I vaguely remember writing stories as a child, I don’t credit my writing’s beginning until late 2009. I used to read Buffy the Vampire Slayer comic books and teen novels by Caroline B. Cooney, but I began seriously devouring books in late 2008. I was nineteen at the time, and since then, I’ve read hundreds of books—some of which have not only changed my life but also completely affected me as a writer.
Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Saga. Unlike most fans, I didn’t know what this
series was until I saw the file version of Twilight on a whim. I found Meyer’s
take on vampires very unique and after my interest peaked, so did the number of
novels I read that year.
Richelle Mead’s Vampire Academy series. I found the world Mead created
fascinating. She was able to mix mythology and folklore with the vampires we
fell in love with. She brought in the evil bloodsuckers we love to hate, as well
as the forbidden romances we couldn’t get enough of.
Zac Brewer’s Chronicles of Vladimir Tod. Brewer’s Vladimir Tod is a
marvelously realistic take on what it means to be a vampire in today’s society.
In Brewer’s series, the protagonist, Vlad, is bullied, has acne, and doesn’t
fall in love with the most popular, most beautiful girl at
4. Chloe Neill’s Chicagoland Vampires series. Neill was able to bring politics into the mix and create a world where humans are aware of the existence of vampires. Neill’s novel describes heart-pounding action with just the right amount of smokin’ hot sexiness.
Narrative Ink Editing LLC, an independent editing company that assists independent authors with prepping and publishing their manuscripts. Danielle currently resides in the Midwest, where she spends her days at a local coffee shop planning her next vacation or plotting her next novel.
Danielle holds a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing from the University of Southern Maine's Stonecoast program, where Danielle worked one-on-one with bestselling authors such as Nancy Holder, Theodora Goss, David Anthony Durham, Liz Hand, and James Patrick Kelly. In addition to her Master of Fine Arts, she also holds a Bachelor of Arts in English and certification in professional writing from the University of Wisconsin—Parkside.
When not writing, traveling, or writing about traveling, Danielle enjoys being outdoors, reading, binge watching television series, and cheering for her favorite football team (Go Packers!).
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When Avah Taylor’s family relocates to the remote mountains of Shasta, California, she thinks she can finally hide the secrets of her family’s ancestry, a history that has marked Avah as an outcast her entire life.Blood Books Series
But after only mere months of living in northern California, Avah’s given a death sentence. As one of the only Spirit users in her coven, she has been chosen to yield The Power, the ultimate weapon against the immortal species and an all-too-powerful gift that the shell of a mortal can’t contain for long.
As Avah slowly transitions into a life of blood and war, she realizes the world isn’t what it seems—and that everything she’s been told is a lie.
Blood Rose (Blood Books 1) – August 2015
Blood Bound (Blood Books 2) – December 2015
Blood Books 3 – June 2016
Blood Books 4 – December 2016
Blood Books 5 – June 2017
Blood Books 6 – December 2017
**Novels to possibly continue based on story arc.
I looked at my house, my eyes lingering on my bedroom window. My mother stood beside the curtain, watching me, before quickly stepping out of view. I wanted to call out to her, beg her to let me stay, but I knew leaving was my only option. They would never be safe around me until I was able to control what I was.
Focusing on the room, I closed my eyes and listened. At first, I heard nothing, but then the world consumed me.
“Stay safe, my love,” my mother whispered.
“Can you believe Braedon said that?” a girl said with a chuckle. Her voice was distant, hushed. She sounded young, weak.
“Did you want anything from the store?” a man asked. He was closer. His voice was coarse, deep. He was closer to me than the girl. I heard him clearly, as if he stood just behind me. But no one was there.
Hiss of a cat.
Squeal of tires.
Sizzling of a fryer.
I dug my fingers into my hair, collapsing to the ground. My mouth opened, but I couldn’t breathe.
“Focus on just me,” Jasik said as he pulled my head against his chest. “Shield yourself from the world. You can do it. Raise your shield, Avah.”
“I-I can’t. It’s s-so loud!” I said, pushing myself harder against him and squeezing my eyes shut. I was sure the witches had done something. I had outworn my welcome, and now, they were using their powers against me. This was it; this was the end.
“Avah, you can do this. You’re strong. Pull your strength from within. Use it to shield yourself from the world.”
“I can’t!” I yelled, angry that he was barking out orders I couldn’t comprehend.
“Jeremiah! She needs you,” he yelled.
I opened my eyes as a hand firmly grasped the back of my head. Kneeling before me, the vampire with dark skin and glowing, gray irises pulled me into his arms. I met his gaze, and slowly, the world went silent.
“She’ll be fine,” Jeremiah said, dropping his arms. “I’ll slowly remove it to make the transition easier.” He walked away.
After the pain subsided, I stood. “What did he do to me?”
Jasik’s face hardened as he stared at me. “Let’s get somewhere safe, and then we’ll talk.”
“No. Tell me everything. No,” I said, taking several steps backward.
After several minutes, he softened and said, “It’s not that simple, Avah.”
“Make it simple.” I wouldn’t budge. I’d sit outside my home until my coven came for us if that’s what it took.
“I’ve never encountered a vampire like you. And I’ve been around a long time,” he said as he turned and began walking toward the others. “I’ve heard the stories, but I always thought they were just that: stories.”
I walked beside him, meeting his gaze. “What do you mean? Why am I so different?” I said. I kicked a stone with my foot, watching it bounce against the concrete, stopping once it reached a patch of grass.
I felt the pavement’s vibrations rattle through my body as the stone glided against it. I knew it had to be my status as the chosen one. I had never heard of a witch becoming a vampire, though I always thought it had to have happened over the centuries. Elders must have assumed a witch would one day turn, because they passed down laws and penalties against it. Speaking of turning into an immortal came at a high price. The betrayal to one’s coven would cost a witch her life. I wondered if the vampire knew I was chosen to harness The Power of the gods, the power that was to annihilate the vampire race.
Glancing up from the ground, I watched as two teenagers approached us. The boy had his arm around the back of the girl’s neck, pulling her close to him. She smiled as he did this, probably enjoying the safety he provided—not realizing that there were monsters in this world that his arm was no match for.
I examined his physique as a scientist would in a laboratory. His arms and chest were tightly bound by his t-shirt. Thin white lines danced across his pale skin. Stretch marks. The closer we came, the more I saw. Goosebumps covered his skin; fine hairs stood on end. I remembered that the air was cool during the ritual, though I didn’t feel chilled now. I felt the breeze but not the cold.
They were just feet in front of us. His shirt seemed to become tighter and tighter the closer they came. I wondered if he took steroids. Time seemed to slow as they passed. The wind picked up, blowing their scent into my open and willing nostrils. I licked my lips, my tongue sticking to dry parts of skin.
Shutting my eyes, I swallowed hard as my throat began to close. Its dryness was painful, scratchy. When I opened my eyes again, my fangs were exposed, and I was just steps behind the humans. I didn’t know how I had gotten there, and I didn’t care. An arm’s length was all that separated them from death, from me. Just before I could leap from behind, I was yanked backward.
“No.” His voice was stern, controlling. I was shocked that he cared. Vampires were murderers. Why would he stop me?
Looking up, I met his eyes. I didn’t understand why he had stopped me, but I was thankful he had. Remembering who I was had become more and more difficult as the night went on. The vampire’s proximity felt oddly intimate, making my skin burn. My fangs retracted, and I pulled away from my captor, horrified at my newfound hunger.I shook my head and wrapped my body in my arms. In that moment, I hadn’t cared if I took that teenager’s life. I had lost control. I had wanted to kill—I was ready to kill. But I didn’t feel like a killer. I just felt hungry. I dropped my arms and resorted to the only thing I knew how to do in this new world: I ran.