Leigh M. Lane takes over my blog and interviews her hippie chick vampire, Jane.
Without much ado I'd like to introduce Leigh M. Lane and her vampiric bohemian badass, Jane. Thanks to the both of them for visiting for the day. Enjoy!
It’s the Simple Things That Count
Have you ever had one of those days when it seems like there’s something to knock you down at every turn? If you subscribe to Jane’s philosophy, the good and the bad eventually balance out, but there’s always a rose to stop and smell even during the worst of times. While I’m no pessimist, I do sometimes let a bad day stop me in my tracks, so I thought I might do a brief interview with Jane to see how she’s able to keep her chin up amid so much adversity.
LL: Why don’t you start by telling your readers a little about you?
Jane: Well, I was born in 1950 and, until my mother died, had an ideal childhood. I learned at an early age that life is what you make of it—and I really do believe it is.
LL: Even for a person who is undead?
Jane: Especially for the undead. I’ve come across a few living dead people in my life, and the only ones who were miserable were the ones who let their undeath get them down. Sure, we can’t enjoy the sunlight on our faces for long without becoming crispy critters, but the way I see it, it’ll sure be pretty groovy when the day comes I finally can.
LL: So you’re confident there’s a fix somewhere out there for your current state?
Jane: Why not? If someone made me this way, there’s got to be someone who can undo it. Until then, why dwell on all the bad stuff when there’s so much good just waiting for you to appreciate it?
LL: What’s one good thing that gets you through the rough days?
Jane: Well… (a pause). I look damn good for my age. I’m a pretty spiritual ghoul too. Never lose the faith, man. When life hands you lemons, make daisy chains.
LL: You can make daisy chains with lemons?
Jane: No, you make daisy chains with daisies. (scoffs)
LL: Moving on … do you have any words of wisdom for readers out there who might also be undead?
Jane: Peace, love, and granola.
LL: Peace, love, and granola?
Jane: It’s code talk, man. You got any? I’ll pay you back next Tuesday for a granola bar today….
About Love Beads:
She’s broke and homeless. She’s a vegan. She’s undead.
Jane has had one hell of a time ever since she bumped into the wrong guy during the Summer of Love, but she’s taken it all in stride. Wandering from town to town, she seeks out the needy and the broken in hopes of breaking the curse that’s left her bloodthirsty and forever seventeen.
In Love Beads, Jane crosses paths with a middle-aged man who’s encountered her kind before—but he seems happy just to have the company. Of course, appearances can be deceiving, and his secret might just prove to be the end of her.
Love Beads is the first novella in the Jane the Hippie Vampire series.
Excerpt:
THE LATE AFTERNOON SUN negated any relief the light breeze might have offered, and the mottled shadow cast by the massive oak tree stretching overhead wasn’t much more helpful. Jane slumped on a park bench, dozing on and off, a wide-brimmed hat and boxy sunglasses obscuring her face. Her backpack sat beside her, one arm threaded through the shoulder straps to deter potential thieves, and she crossed her legs at the ankles. She wore a ragged pair of blue jeans and a Doobie Brothers tee shirt so old the applique had cracked and faded beyond recognition. Her bare feet were calloused and in desperate need of a good scrub.
She’d find a decent place to crash soon. There was at least one Good Samaritan in every town, and they were usually easy enough to spot. Patience was the key. That—and a practical sense of when the local heat had decided she’d overstayed her welcome. Hanging around anywhere long enough to be recognized was a bad thing. Recognition led to suspicion, which led to a slippery slope that began with harassment and ended with the gas chamber. She’d seen it happen before, and it was a pretty hellish fate for those on the difficult side of killing. There was no respectable place left in this world for vampires, not at least that she’d found, and it was not at all hospitable to a burned-out flower child who couldn’t seem to pull her head out of the sixties.
A handful of adolescents infiltrated the park, putting an end to the peaceful quiet she’d been fortunate enough to have enjoyed for the last couple of hours. The disruption had been inevitable, and she took it in stride despite her exhaustion. She sat upright, watched the kids play flag football for a few minutes, and then donned her backpack and made her way to the sidewalk. It was a sunny day, not at all comfortable, and the heat instilled an aching desire to curl up on the side of the street and slip quietly into a coma. Such extended exposure would undoubtedly do just that—before it reduced her hide to burnt leather—so she moved as quickly as her sluggish legs would take her to the shady overhangs of the buildings across the street.
The town she’d found herself in was small and quaint, with boutiques and small shops packed within a tiny radius. The smell of fried food permeated from a nearby greasy spoon. She considered going in, but she only had a few bucks and some change on her. Moreover, a diner was far from ideal for mingling with the locals. Mingling was the objective; luxuries like food—“people food”—were secondary.
Not like food wasn’t a necessity in its own right, just like water and doobage. A girl could only go so long without her doobage. Life was mundane enough as it was. A little variety, beyond blood type, was all that stood between her and insanity.
About the author:
Leigh M. Lane has been writing for over twenty years. She has ten published novels and twelve published short stories divided among different genre-specific pseudonyms. She is married to editor Thomas B. Lane, Jr. and currently resides in the hot and dusty outskirts of Sin City. Her traditional Gothic horror novel, Finding Poe, was a finalist in the 2013 EPIC Awards in horror.
Her other novels include World-Mart—a tribute to Orwell, Serling, and Vonnegut—and the dark allegorical tale, Myths of Gods.
For more information about Leigh M. Lane and her writing, visit her website at http://www.cerebralwriter.com.
Love Beads is available on Kindle for .99: http://www.amazon.com/Jane-Hippie-Vampire-Love-Beads-ebook/dp/B00L0J8ROQ
Have you ever had one of those days when it seems like there’s something to knock you down at every turn? If you subscribe to Jane’s philosophy, the good and the bad eventually balance out, but there’s always a rose to stop and smell even during the worst of times. While I’m no pessimist, I do sometimes let a bad day stop me in my tracks, so I thought I might do a brief interview with Jane to see how she’s able to keep her chin up amid so much adversity.
LL: Why don’t you start by telling your readers a little about you?
Jane: Well, I was born in 1950 and, until my mother died, had an ideal childhood. I learned at an early age that life is what you make of it—and I really do believe it is.
LL: Even for a person who is undead?
Jane: Especially for the undead. I’ve come across a few living dead people in my life, and the only ones who were miserable were the ones who let their undeath get them down. Sure, we can’t enjoy the sunlight on our faces for long without becoming crispy critters, but the way I see it, it’ll sure be pretty groovy when the day comes I finally can.
LL: So you’re confident there’s a fix somewhere out there for your current state?
Jane: Why not? If someone made me this way, there’s got to be someone who can undo it. Until then, why dwell on all the bad stuff when there’s so much good just waiting for you to appreciate it?
LL: What’s one good thing that gets you through the rough days?
Jane: Well… (a pause). I look damn good for my age. I’m a pretty spiritual ghoul too. Never lose the faith, man. When life hands you lemons, make daisy chains.
LL: You can make daisy chains with lemons?
Jane: No, you make daisy chains with daisies. (scoffs)
LL: Moving on … do you have any words of wisdom for readers out there who might also be undead?
Jane: Peace, love, and granola.
LL: Peace, love, and granola?
Jane: It’s code talk, man. You got any? I’ll pay you back next Tuesday for a granola bar today….
About Love Beads:
She’s broke and homeless. She’s a vegan. She’s undead.
Jane has had one hell of a time ever since she bumped into the wrong guy during the Summer of Love, but she’s taken it all in stride. Wandering from town to town, she seeks out the needy and the broken in hopes of breaking the curse that’s left her bloodthirsty and forever seventeen.
In Love Beads, Jane crosses paths with a middle-aged man who’s encountered her kind before—but he seems happy just to have the company. Of course, appearances can be deceiving, and his secret might just prove to be the end of her.
Love Beads is the first novella in the Jane the Hippie Vampire series.
Excerpt:
THE LATE AFTERNOON SUN negated any relief the light breeze might have offered, and the mottled shadow cast by the massive oak tree stretching overhead wasn’t much more helpful. Jane slumped on a park bench, dozing on and off, a wide-brimmed hat and boxy sunglasses obscuring her face. Her backpack sat beside her, one arm threaded through the shoulder straps to deter potential thieves, and she crossed her legs at the ankles. She wore a ragged pair of blue jeans and a Doobie Brothers tee shirt so old the applique had cracked and faded beyond recognition. Her bare feet were calloused and in desperate need of a good scrub.
She’d find a decent place to crash soon. There was at least one Good Samaritan in every town, and they were usually easy enough to spot. Patience was the key. That—and a practical sense of when the local heat had decided she’d overstayed her welcome. Hanging around anywhere long enough to be recognized was a bad thing. Recognition led to suspicion, which led to a slippery slope that began with harassment and ended with the gas chamber. She’d seen it happen before, and it was a pretty hellish fate for those on the difficult side of killing. There was no respectable place left in this world for vampires, not at least that she’d found, and it was not at all hospitable to a burned-out flower child who couldn’t seem to pull her head out of the sixties.
A handful of adolescents infiltrated the park, putting an end to the peaceful quiet she’d been fortunate enough to have enjoyed for the last couple of hours. The disruption had been inevitable, and she took it in stride despite her exhaustion. She sat upright, watched the kids play flag football for a few minutes, and then donned her backpack and made her way to the sidewalk. It was a sunny day, not at all comfortable, and the heat instilled an aching desire to curl up on the side of the street and slip quietly into a coma. Such extended exposure would undoubtedly do just that—before it reduced her hide to burnt leather—so she moved as quickly as her sluggish legs would take her to the shady overhangs of the buildings across the street.
The town she’d found herself in was small and quaint, with boutiques and small shops packed within a tiny radius. The smell of fried food permeated from a nearby greasy spoon. She considered going in, but she only had a few bucks and some change on her. Moreover, a diner was far from ideal for mingling with the locals. Mingling was the objective; luxuries like food—“people food”—were secondary.
Not like food wasn’t a necessity in its own right, just like water and doobage. A girl could only go so long without her doobage. Life was mundane enough as it was. A little variety, beyond blood type, was all that stood between her and insanity.
About the author:
Leigh M. Lane has been writing for over twenty years. She has ten published novels and twelve published short stories divided among different genre-specific pseudonyms. She is married to editor Thomas B. Lane, Jr. and currently resides in the hot and dusty outskirts of Sin City. Her traditional Gothic horror novel, Finding Poe, was a finalist in the 2013 EPIC Awards in horror.
Her other novels include World-Mart—a tribute to Orwell, Serling, and Vonnegut—and the dark allegorical tale, Myths of Gods.
For more information about Leigh M. Lane and her writing, visit her website at http://www.cerebralwriter.com.
Love Beads is available on Kindle for .99: http://www.amazon.com/Jane-Hippie-Vampire-Love-Beads-ebook/dp/B00L0J8ROQ
