Melissa Francis : Bitchin' Fiction : Writing

My YA Debut, BITE ME! is on physical and virtual bookshelves now. The follow up book titled LOVE SUCKS! is scheduled to be released Spring 2010.

AJ Ashe isn't a typical seventeen-year-old vampire (as if there is such a thing as ‘typical!’) Her ex-boyfriend is now her stepbrother. Her two BFFs are in a huge fight and AJ’s caught in the middle. She's totally framed for cheating on a Lit test. And now, apparently, the fate of humankind lies in her little undead hands. Like that's fair. What ever happened to the good old days when all a vampire girl had to worry about was the occasional zit and hiding her fetish for necks?

Chapter 1

My mother’s wedding day.

I should be thrilled she’s getting hitched to the man of her dreams. And don’t get me wrong, part of me is truly happy for her. I like Mr. Fraser, I mean Rick. A lot. He’s a great guy.

But I like his oldest son, Ryan, even more.

I like Ryan so much that I let him have a little boob action last week. And we even toyed with the idea of some under the zipper action, until his stupid younger brother poured a big bucket of cold water on that idea when he barged into the tree house to tell us our parents were getting married.

“Oh my God! You’re feelin’ up our sister!” he’d said with a cackle. “We are officially a Mississippi cliché. Awesome.”

“Get out, Raytard!” Ryan had yelled, chunking a pillow at the fourteen year old’s head.

And now I stood with my two sisters in the backyard of the antebellum mansion our melting-pot family would call home, wearing my pretty pink sundress, staring across at my new “brothers” (the oldest of whom I still wanted to jump, by the way) while our parents vowed to love each other for eternity.

I wonder if Mr. Fraser, er, Rick, realized that eternity was not just a metaphor in our case.

After all, vampires tend to live for centuries.

Yes. Absolutely. If by 'schedule' you mean whenever I can make myself... Seriously, I'm terrible with time management. I'm working on it though. Possibly I have ADHD. I dunno. I'm very easily distracted. *oh! look at that sparkly thing...*

I can't remember exactly the year (1999 maybe?) My friend Cholsted could tell you because we were working at *large unnamed telecommunications company* together. I was really good at my job and oftentimes had exceeded my quota by noon and since I am easily distracted (see above) and since back then we did NOT have unlimited access to the interwebs, I pulled up my MS Word and started writing a book. You know, to entertain myself. I named a really bad character after Cholsted so naturally she loved it. It was REALLY BAD. Like, awful. But it was the first time I was really bitten by the fiction bug.

Oh I still have it. It's the epitome of Mel-O-Drama. It didn't have a title. I should probably call it PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY. Here let me show you it:

The heat was sweltering. Not that unusual for mid-July in Arkansas, but Maureen seemed more aware of it today. The air was sticky enough to plaster a few stray red curls to her forehead. The rest of her hair was smoothed back into a clip, as far away from skin as possible. “Well. this isn't exactly how I would've planned it,” she said, smoothing her shirt over her still flat abdomen, “but, we will have to make the best of it.” The tears began to well in her eyes again, stubbornly hanging on to the brim. Maureen stiffened her back, took in as deep a breath as she could muster, and wiped the droplets from her eyes.

“No more tears.” was all she could say without breaking down. The lump in her throat nearly choked her, as she stood up and gathered her equipment. She came here specifically to take her mind off of things. This was once a childhood haven. The only safe place for her and her friends while growing up. Maybe she would feel the comfort she felt as a child. Maybe this refuge would shelter her again after all these years. Maybe she could recapture that feeling in pictures.

Maybe.

To be interviewed on Author Talk. That's how I will know my quest for World Domination has begun.

Pajamas mostly. If I've actually showered, I wear shorts or yoga pants and a t-shirt. I do not write in the nude, no matter what you've heard. (I blame Kristen Painter for that rumor.)

My husband says Queen Latifah. Which would be okay. But I would prefer Stifler's Mom.