By Irene Preston & Liv Rancourt
Release Date: November
15, 2016
Contact: Irene
Preston (irenepreston@gmail.com)
ISBN: 978-0-9968099-4-8
Image Gallery: http://www.irenepreston.com/images/Bonfire/
Synopsis
Silent night, holy hell.
Thaddeus and Sarasija are spending the holidays on the bayou, and while the vampire's idea of Christmas cheer doesn't quite match his assistant's, they're working on a compromise. Before they can get the tree trimmed, they're interrupted by the appearance of the feu follet. The ghostly lights appear in the swamp at random and lead even the locals astray.
When the townsfolk link the phenomenon to the return of their most reclusive neighbor, suspicion falls on Thaddeus. These lights aren't bringing glad tidings, and if Thad and Sara can't find their source, the feu follet might herald a holiday tragedy for the whole town.
This holiday novella can be enjoyed alone or as book 1.5 of the Hours of the Night Series. Bonfiretakes place the December after the events in Vespers.
Thaddeus and Sarasija are spending the holidays on the bayou, and while the vampire's idea of Christmas cheer doesn't quite match his assistant's, they're working on a compromise. Before they can get the tree trimmed, they're interrupted by the appearance of the feu follet. The ghostly lights appear in the swamp at random and lead even the locals astray.
When the townsfolk link the phenomenon to the return of their most reclusive neighbor, suspicion falls on Thaddeus. These lights aren't bringing glad tidings, and if Thad and Sara can't find their source, the feu follet might herald a holiday tragedy for the whole town.
This holiday novella can be enjoyed alone or as book 1.5 of the Hours of the Night Series. Bonfiretakes place the December after the events in Vespers.
Review
Liv Rancourt and Irene Preston truly are a power house duo in the co-authoring department. Each book they write together whether long or short I fall hard for and Bonfire is no exception.
I adore these characters. They never irritate me and often they are so in tune with each other that I, the reader, can almost guess where it's going or even the dialog that the other will say. I always love Sara because of his humor. Humor is huge for me. I always say if you can make me laugh you have won me over and Sara won me over. He also brings a great balance to Thaddeus's view on things. And this story being in Thaddeus's POV I found to be utterly fascinating.
Christmas stories come in all shapes and sizes. This one has the paranormal element but at the same time a very human feel. I truly loved this novella. Between amazing characters, wonderful dialog and interesting perspective. It made for an extremely entertaining read.
I do feel the need to tell you that you have to read Vespers (book 1 in Hours of Night Series) before reading this novella. It's really NOT a standalone. At least that's my opinion anyway. But you want to read Vespers anyway because it's also FABULOUS! This series has just begun to be terrific and I can't wait to see where Liv and Irene take it!!!
Guest Post
Thanks so much for having
us back on your blog, Meredith! Irene and I are happy to be sharing our newest
project with your readers. Bonfire is book 1.5 in our m/m paranormal
romance series, The Hours of the Night.
Same characters, same setting, but it’s not a true sequel to Vespers. We just wanted to write something
shorter and lighter, to give Thaddeus and Sarasija (and readers!) a happy
holiday moment.
For this post, we want to
talk a bit about what we like most about writing the
Hours of the Night series. And it is a series now! That alone is kind of exciting to me. When
you’re a young author just starting out, you’re generally advised to write
books in series, because readers like them, but this is a first for me. (Because
#rebel.)
Bonfire is the first story I’ve written that relates directly to the one before
it, with the same characters and the same basic themes. The story doesn’t deal
with any of the main plot threads from Vespers, aside from the relationship between
Thaddeus and Sarasija, because we wanted to focus on the guys, rather than the
demons.
And you know what I
learned?
I really like writing characters I know well. While drafting a new
world is fun, and finding a character’s voice for the first time can be
tremendously satisfying, there was something really cool about slipping back
into Thad’s head. I also appreciated that, despite my expectations for how Sara
would behave, there were still surprises. (Like, this one time when Sara said (spoiler)
which Thaddeus I didn’t like, so I said, “Wait, (spoiler)”,
and we ended up working MY response into THAD’s response, and the whole scene
got better!) Working with Irene kept
things interesting, and was absolutely one of my favorite parts of this
experience.
So I’d say that for me,
the things I like best about writing the stories in the Hours of the Night series are going deeper into characters I
already love, and the little revelations – and fun! – that come from working
with a partner. Because we do share things pretty equally, I asked Irene for
her take on the best parts of the Hours
of the Night. Here’s her answer…
The co-writing, hands down. I mean, I love Thaddeus and Sara
and New Orleans and the Amite River and vampires. But in this instance all of
those things flowed out of the co-writing. Liv and I tend to generally think
along the same lines about most things, which means we get along most of the
time as we write. But within those same parameters, we can have wildly
different ways of approaching things. So Thaddeus surprises me sometimes, and
the way he views Sara surprises me. So suddenly, I’m writing a character and I
can see him through someone else’s eyes long before the story ever gets to the
first beta-reader. It’s really fun!
Yeah, having a built-in beta reader is pretty cool, and I’m absolutely
looking forward to our next project. Because, well, if you’ve read Vespers, you know Thaddeus & Sarasija
defeated the Big Bad, but Weyer’s Praestigiis
Daemonum is still out there somewhere, and depending on who gets ahold of
it, all hell could very well break loose.
Keep reading because we’ve got a great excerpt, and make sure you enter
our rafflecopter giveaway. To celebrate Bonfire’s release, we’ve got a $20 gift card
to give away. Happy Holidays!
Excerpt from Bonfire
Dorothy ran Pinky’s, a small sundries store with a
restaurant in back, the only place to buy groceries within ten miles. In her
day, she’d been widely acknowledged for her beauty, though I had always
respected her for her intelligence and wit. If she recognized the similarities
between me and the Mr. Dupont who’d lived in the River house when she was a
girl, she’d never mentioned it. We had an accord, Dorothy and I, one I would be
reluctant to break.
While the phone was ringing, I noticed two paper shopping bags in the corner of the room. The phone had just enough cord for me to reach the closest bag, but before I could open it, Dorothy answered.
“This is Thaddeus Dupont.”
“I guess you got my message.” Dorothy sounded annoyed, as if she’d rather I hadn’t called.
“Yes. What can I do for you?” I opened the bag and lifted out a glossy black box. Christmas lights. Surprised, I bit my lip against a sharp surge of irritation.
“Well,” she said, “those lights are back.”
Confused, I set aside the first box and lifted out another. “Lights?” More lights?
“You know what I’m talking about. The swamp lights. Back in my grandmother’s day, she’d say Old Ivey was out looking for someone who got murdered.” She paused, and he could almost hear her collecting her thoughts. “Some call ’em the feu follet, and people been following ’em to find the treasure but getting lost in the swamp instead.”
I lifted a third and then a fourth box of Christmas lights out of the bag. “And what has this to do with me?” Fueled by exasperation, my tone was sharper than normal, but what was Sara thinking? A single ornament was one thing, but I never decorated for the holidays, especially with multicolored, LED, synchronized flashers.
“Maybe nothing, Thaddeus, but after the troubles you all had last summer, I figured I better say something in case Old Ivey’s looking for someone you know.”
I carefully set down the box of lights. “I can assure you, Miss Dorothy, I have not murdered anyone and stashed their body in the swamp.”
She paused for a good long while. “No, no, I suppose you haven’t.” The stiffness left her voice, and she exhaled softly. “But something’s going on, and you know how some people get carried away.”
Sara wandered out of the kitchen, his smile brightening when he saw I’d discovered his secret. “Things will die down. They always do.” I knew that from experience. As a solitary man who kept to himself, I periodically came under scrutiny from the neighborhood. There would be talk, and the bravest would come down the river to my house and poke around. My assistant, or maybe Mayette, would allay their fears, and the next good bit of gossip would distract them.
She snorted. “Well maybe you should, I don’t know, see if you can find where those witch lights are coming from.”
Now we’d come to the root of her problem. She wanted me to investigate. Sara pulled one of the strings of lights out of its box and plugged it in, flooding the room with color. I blinked hard against the glare. “You think that will help?”
“Yep. So far, everyone who’s gone missing has turned back up, but if they didn’t, well, that’d be real bad.”
“Look!” Sara’s enthusiasm bled through his whispered comment. He pressed a button so the lights started flashing. “They work.”
I waved off Sara’s laughter. “I agree. Thank you for the information, and I’ll let you know what I find out.”
She thanked me, grudgingly, and ended the call. I hung up slowly, considering the best approach to take.
“You don’t mind, do you, Thaddeus?” Sara unplugged the string of lights and began packing them away. “I wanted to surprise you, put some lights on the porch and maybe on the banister. We don’t have to do the whole Christmasy-Christmas thing, but the lights are pretty.”
Did I mind? Yes, in theory, though when faced with the hope in his eyes, I found the idea of decorating might not be so intolerable. “We do have a bauble.” I sighed, rubbing at the tension in my neck. “I think, Sara, you could ask me to hang the Christmas star in the heavens, and I would find a way to accomplish the task.”
“You’re crazy.” He ducked, hiding behind a shield of hair.
Unable to resist the temptation, I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him. “You may be right.”
While the phone was ringing, I noticed two paper shopping bags in the corner of the room. The phone had just enough cord for me to reach the closest bag, but before I could open it, Dorothy answered.
“This is Thaddeus Dupont.”
“I guess you got my message.” Dorothy sounded annoyed, as if she’d rather I hadn’t called.
“Yes. What can I do for you?” I opened the bag and lifted out a glossy black box. Christmas lights. Surprised, I bit my lip against a sharp surge of irritation.
“Well,” she said, “those lights are back.”
Confused, I set aside the first box and lifted out another. “Lights?” More lights?
“You know what I’m talking about. The swamp lights. Back in my grandmother’s day, she’d say Old Ivey was out looking for someone who got murdered.” She paused, and he could almost hear her collecting her thoughts. “Some call ’em the feu follet, and people been following ’em to find the treasure but getting lost in the swamp instead.”
I lifted a third and then a fourth box of Christmas lights out of the bag. “And what has this to do with me?” Fueled by exasperation, my tone was sharper than normal, but what was Sara thinking? A single ornament was one thing, but I never decorated for the holidays, especially with multicolored, LED, synchronized flashers.
“Maybe nothing, Thaddeus, but after the troubles you all had last summer, I figured I better say something in case Old Ivey’s looking for someone you know.”
I carefully set down the box of lights. “I can assure you, Miss Dorothy, I have not murdered anyone and stashed their body in the swamp.”
She paused for a good long while. “No, no, I suppose you haven’t.” The stiffness left her voice, and she exhaled softly. “But something’s going on, and you know how some people get carried away.”
Sara wandered out of the kitchen, his smile brightening when he saw I’d discovered his secret. “Things will die down. They always do.” I knew that from experience. As a solitary man who kept to himself, I periodically came under scrutiny from the neighborhood. There would be talk, and the bravest would come down the river to my house and poke around. My assistant, or maybe Mayette, would allay their fears, and the next good bit of gossip would distract them.
She snorted. “Well maybe you should, I don’t know, see if you can find where those witch lights are coming from.”
Now we’d come to the root of her problem. She wanted me to investigate. Sara pulled one of the strings of lights out of its box and plugged it in, flooding the room with color. I blinked hard against the glare. “You think that will help?”
“Yep. So far, everyone who’s gone missing has turned back up, but if they didn’t, well, that’d be real bad.”
“Look!” Sara’s enthusiasm bled through his whispered comment. He pressed a button so the lights started flashing. “They work.”
I waved off Sara’s laughter. “I agree. Thank you for the information, and I’ll let you know what I find out.”
She thanked me, grudgingly, and ended the call. I hung up slowly, considering the best approach to take.
“You don’t mind, do you, Thaddeus?” Sara unplugged the string of lights and began packing them away. “I wanted to surprise you, put some lights on the porch and maybe on the banister. We don’t have to do the whole Christmasy-Christmas thing, but the lights are pretty.”
Did I mind? Yes, in theory, though when faced with the hope in his eyes, I found the idea of decorating might not be so intolerable. “We do have a bauble.” I sighed, rubbing at the tension in my neck. “I think, Sara, you could ask me to hang the Christmas star in the heavens, and I would find a way to accomplish the task.”
“You’re crazy.” He ducked, hiding behind a shield of hair.
Unable to resist the temptation, I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him. “You may be right.”
About the Authors
About Irene Preston
Irene Preston has to write romances, after all she is living
one. As a starving college student, she
met her dream man who whisked her away on a romantic honeymoon across Europe. Today they
live in the beautiful hill country outside of Austin, Texas
where Dream Man is still working hard to make sure she never has to take off
her rose-colored glasses.
Where to find Irene
About Liv Rancourt
I write romance: m/f, m/m, and v/h, where the h is for human and the v is for vampire … or sometimes demon … I lean more towards funny than angst. When I’m not writing I take care of tiny premature babies or teenagers, depending on whether I’m at home or at work. My husband is a soul of patience, my dog’s cuteness is legendary, and we share the homestead with three ferrets. Who steal things. Because they’re brats.
I write romance: m/f, m/m, and v/h, where the h is for human and the v is for vampire … or sometimes demon … I lean more towards funny than angst. When I’m not writing I take care of tiny premature babies or teenagers, depending on whether I’m at home or at work. My husband is a soul of patience, my dog’s cuteness is legendary, and we share the homestead with three ferrets. Who steal things. Because they’re brats.
Where
to find Liv
Giveaway
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