From the Backlist: Never Make an Author Mad

 

Art by Omven on DeviantArt

Welcome to our posts from the backlist! Today's spotlight was written August 2011 by the spooky-wonderful author Karina Cooper. Check out her hilarious, somewhat disturbing take on why it's best not to poke the bear, if the bear be an author!

Hope you enjoy!

You can find Karina Cooper on Goodreads!  

* * * 

Friday, August 26, 2011

Reasons Why You Never Want to Make an Author Mad *

by Karina Cooper

Come on, you've seen us. We're all very lovely people, us authors. We smile at the cameras, sign books, hug fans, and so on. Surely, making an author mad must be akin to swatting at a dust bunny, right? I mean, what are we going to do? Cry into our keyboards?

I mean, can't you just see the gorgeous Vicki Petersson cackling with glee as she comes up with creative ways to use a coin slot machine and a pair of dice to off somebody . . .

. . . let's not discount Merrie Destefano, who knows all the good places in New Orleans to hide a body, or Joss Ware, who knows seventeen ways to dismember a man beyond recognition. Juliana Stone knows what kind of wounds look like animal attacks—"I have no idea, officer, it looks like a jaguar attack to me."—and Pamela Palmer who is an engineer, and you know how devilishly clever engineers are. I wouldn't mess with her with a twenty-foot pole and a getaway driver on speed dial.

Ahhh, authors. So innocent, and yet...

Mwahaha. . .

Well. Sort of.

See, yesterday I found myself in the middle of a task that I do actually need for this current run of books I'm plotting. And as I scrolled through pages and pages of data, I thought to myself, Karina, it's a damn good thing your profession is what it is.

Because how else am I to explain why my internet history is full of information on modern day torture techniques?

That's right. Let's talk about reason number one: We know how make you scream. We've researched it down to the last details—certainly not for ourselves, oh, no, but what out characters know, we know. And if we're carrying around a character who is an inquisitor, or a character who was tortured, or worse, we know.

Would we use it? Oh, of course not, officer! We'd never use this information for evil. We're entertainers, not in the business of making the things we know actually happen. Right?

Heh. Heh heh. Right.

Reason number two to avoid making us angry? We know how to hide the body. We've thoroughly researched it. Currents, erosion, garbage truck route details, you name it, we know it. We're a little obsessive when it comes to details, you might have noticed. After all, how else can we guarantee that the extra we offed in chapter 4 doesn't come to light until chapter 15?

The devil is, in fact, in the details.... 

 

* Note: This post is entirely tongue-in-cheek and not actually a commentary on the likelihood of authors to commit heinous crimes against real, living people. This is a joke. A post devoted to the rather hilarious fact that we tend to research the most horrible things in our bid to get it right.

Murder is bad, mmkay?

Read the entire POST.

 

Enjoy!

 

* * * 

 

Speculative Fiction (Fantasy/Thriller/Sci-Fi/Urban Fantasy) for adults and teens.

 

 

We're a group of best-selling authors providing news, reviews and interviews from the darker, more speculative side of fiction.

Fiction that makes the heart beat faster...

 

From The Backlist: "I Wish I Could Tell You I'm A Better Guy" by Karina Cooper

 .
Here at SU (Supernatural Underground!) HQ we love backlist time almost as much as we love seeing each new post go up!

And this post from Karina Cooper had us laughing -- and applauding! -- all over again. Enjoy today's refeature! 
.

Wish I Could Tell You I'm A Better Guy

~ by Karina Cooper

...love is all around and only real men cry. But all I wanna do is jump your bones; slam dance all night to the music of your moans.

All right. Take a minute, get some tea. Coffee. You know, something wet. Possibly alcoholic. A martini. Let's be classy. Let's be honest. Put on some lipstick and your best serious glasses (although dear gentlemen, you may choose one, if you prefer) and let's have a chat.

I have a confession. And I suspect I'm not the only one ...

..You think of life and love and morals separately. You don't expect a promise to last longer than the words themselves.

The aspect I love the most (about these lines from Fiction Plane's It's a Lie ) is the sheer, unadulterated passion that draws these two together. It's not mired in mystery, or in politics, or in ulterior motives.

I once started writing a book—which, to my everlasting shame, was lost in a hard drive crash—involving a human hero and a Fae-cursed heroine. She wanted nothing to do with him, mostly due to her own issues, but he took one look at her and thought to himself, Sean, buddy, you've got to nail that before you go home.

Was it classy? Nope.

Was it honest? Skippy. Honest to the to the bone.

And because he single-mindedly pursued her, he ended up sucked into a world far beyond his knowledge. But the wanting came first. The acting on that want came before anything else, and I'd be lying if I said that Mairi wasn't more than a little turned on by that attention. He didn't want her magic, or her secrets. Hell, he didn't even know she was anything more than the proprietor of a Bed & Breakfast. He simply... wanted her. And that got his foot in the door, unwitting though it was.

My point, ladies and gentlemen, is such: plot is juicy. Plot makes the world go 'round, it changes people, develops them. Plot is the bread and butter of books. However, I submit that not everything has to do with plot.

Sometimes, two people just desperately want to shag.

Furthermore, I submit that there is something raw, something unparalleled... dare I say it? Something unspoilt about two people who are attracted to one another without the meddling fingers of plot to force the attraction in some way or another.

Plot will have the rest of the book to yo-yo them around.

Give me a man who is honest about his wants. The woman who responds to that raw honesty is bound to find her life changed forever.

... Or waking up the next morning with tangled sheets and a hazy memory of a guy whose name might have been Fred. You know, it can go either way. In romance books, the morning after can be one hell of a start.

..."
.

We've only brought you an excerpt today, but there's plenty more goodness in the original post. Just click through to read here. 

To find out more about what Karina's doing now, visit her on kcalexander.com

From the Backlist: Forbidden Fruit (And Don't We Love It!)

Art by @horseman09 on Instagram 

Today's spotlight from the Backlist was written June 26, 2010 by the spectacular Fantasy author Karina Cooper. Her thoughts on contemporary monsters and why we love-fear-love them are timely, and well considered. 

Hope you enjoy!

Check out Karina Cooper on Goodreads!  

Forbidden Fruit (And Don't We Love It!)

by Karina Cooper

 

We've all met the forefathers of the paranormal world. Bram Stoker's Dracula, George Waggner's The Wolf Man, and other early prototypes of the much-maligned fur-and-fanged world have been ingrained in our racial memory almost as deeply as a fear/fascination of fire.

Think I'm joking? Don't worry, I am... mostly. While there is no (credible) evidence of fanged cavemen stalking the Neanderthals of ages past, there is, instead, a like fascination with the things that go bump in the night. We have loved to hate vampires who creep through bedroom windows, cheered when the werewolves have been put down by silver bullets (carefully crafted from one's father's melted down watch, natch), covered our eyes when the blood-bathing witch was burned at the stake and the souls of her cursed victims set free.

If you're here, then you share that love with me.

And perhaps you can answer a question that has always interested me: How, in all that is (un)holy, did vampires go from this unfortunate child of the night to this blessed hunk of blood-love? Where in our society did we decide that being stalked by furry-faced flesh-eaters was not nearly so fun as being seduced by them?

I have a theory, gentle (and not so gentle) readers. My theory is this: We as a species, a culture and a shared memory are routinely fascinated by the forbidden. From as majestic as the ancient tales of locked gateways to heaven to the mundane as being told we shouldn't touch the stove, we are drawn to that which we cannot have... 

 

Read the entire POST. 

 

Enjoy!

 

* * * 

 

Speculative Fiction (Fantasy/Thriller/Sci-Fi/Urban Fantasy) for adults and teens.

 

 

We're a group of best-selling authors providing news, reviews and interviews from the darker, more speculative side of fiction.

Fiction that makes the heart beat faster...

 

From The Backlist: "Reasons Why You Never Want to Make an Author Mad*" by Karina Cooper

 .
We love our awesome Supernatural Underground backlist -- and this post by Karina Cooper, now writing as KC Alexander, is a lot of fun. Enjoy!

Reasons Why You Never Want to Make an Author Mad*

KC Alexander

by Karina Cooper

Come on, you've seen us. We're all very lovely people, us authors. We smile at the cameras, sign books, hug fans, and so on. Surely, making an author mad must be akin to swatting at a dust bunny, right? I mean, what are we going to do? Cry into our keyboards?

Well. Sort of.

See, yesterday I found myself in the middle of a task that I do actually need for this current run of books I'm plotting. And as I scrolled through pages and pages of data, I thought to myself, Karina, it's a damn good thing your profession is what it is.

Because how else am I to explain why my internet history is full of information on modern day torture techniques?

That's right. Let's talk about reason number one: We know how make you scream. We've researched it down to the last details—certainly not for ourselves, oh, no, but what out characters know, we know. And if we're carrying around a character who is an inquisitor, or a character who was tortured, or worse, we know.

Would we use it? Oh, of course not, officer! We'd never use this information for evil. We're entertainers, not in the business of making the things we know actually happen. Right?

Heh. Heh heh. Right.

Reason number two to avoid making us angry? We know how to hide the body. We've thoroughly researched it. Currents, erosion, garbage truck route details, you name it, we know it. We're a little obsessive when it comes to details, you might have noticed. After all, how else can we guarantee that the extra we offed in chapter 4 doesn't come to light until chapter 15?

The devil is, in fact, in the details.

And speaking of details, let's talk about reason number three: we know things about weapons even the movies get wrong. In that obsession with details, we'll travel all over the information highway to get the facts. Which means we know what kind of weapons a SEAL carries, we know which weapons jam underwater and which can fire in below freezing temperatures. We know which bullets will turn your brain into so much pink mist and which will leave a neat little exit wound, and which sniper rifle will make this easy.

We know about ninja stars, and the different kinds of knives. We know which guns have suppressors and which can be made to have suppressors, and that the potato suppressor doesn't actually work.

Oh, and I certainly don't mean we'd use these tidbits of terminal information on you! I mean characters, of course! We know how to kill characters. As I said, we're in the habit of making up stories, not in shaping reality. Rest easy, dear reader.

Unless, of course, you'd like to make us mad...?

Which brings us to reason number four: Odds are, we have fans in the police department. No joke! If it's not the boys in blue who love us, it's the women. Or the wives. Regardless of who or how, the reality is, we have people who would love to give us alibis.

Wouldn't any of you give me an alibi if I rang you up one day? "Hey, listen, I'll make a character of your choice and thank you in the acknowledgements if you just tell these nice people where I was yesterday. You know, at your house. Watching Friends. And eating cheddar cheese."

Then there's reason number five: You remember school, when there'd be this rumor going around about "that girl" who did this one horribly embarrassing thing, and you knew—just knew—that everyone was talking about you?

Imagine having a character based on you. A character who reveals all your secrets—or makes them up. A character who is murdered in the most grisly way. Or a character who survives, but gets exactly what he or she deserves?

Yeah. In our worlds, baby, we're the gods. And we will talk about you in our godly land of godliness.

You don't want that, do you?

So there you are. Five very good reasons not to piss off your favorite authors. Or even your not so favorite authors. 

...

To read the full post, including comments, click here. 

To find out more about what Karina's doing now, visit her on kcalexander.com

I'll have what she's having: The Art of the YES

Year of Living Heroically #4: Crossing the Threshold. 

I've been looking forward to writing this particular step of the Year of Living Heroically and I am so very glad that it fell in this month. 

In YLH #2- I talked about saying 'no' and why it was really all about fear. We refuse the call of adventure because it scares us or we don't feel that we are good enough. 

So this time, I get to talk about saying YES, and the power that it holds. 

When a hero crosses the threshold of their story, they are actively choosing to go on an adventure, do something completely new, or just face what they have been avoiding their whole lives. They have met a mentor who has empowered them or shown them that its not as scary as they think. So they say YES and they start on their adventure. Everything is new and shiny once they say YES. Like a baby starting off in the special world. 

I think we can think of Dorothy putting her first step on the yellow brick road as a good metaphor as to how to say YES. Saying yes is a first step in a longer journey, but your on the road now and you can't go back. 

Just saying YES is empowering. There a certain freedom that comes with shedding off that fear and embracing something totally and wholeheartedly. The saying YES changes you as well. 

Some little questions that change everything in a big way by just answering:

Wanna grab some coffee some time?

Would you like to come work for us?

Will you marry me?

Want to have a baby?

So how am I saying YES this month to new adventures: I'm going to RT Booklovers Convention in New Orleans, a place I have never been before, May 14th to May 18th. I'm ready to learn what NOLA has to teach and eat what NOLA has to eat. 

When someone asked if I wanted to be on a conference panel, I said yes. So you can come and see me at the Six Degrees of the Author/Editor relationship with the lovely Karina Cooper. 

When someone else asked if I wanted to be on a romance radio show, I said yes. So you can listen to me at the Worlds of Romance Radio Blog on May 14th at 10 pm EST.  

 And it is exhilarating as hell. I'm totally amped up to go!

So if you see me at RT and you need anything, ask me. I pack like a girl scout and I'm really tall. So if i can help you out with your adventures, I'll more than likely say yes. 

-----------------------------------------

Amanda Arista

Author, Diaries of an Urban Panther

www.amandaarista.com

Why being a ninja is great!

So I'm reporting live to you from RT Booklovers Convention 2013 in Kansas City. It is a weekend of fun parties, reader interaction, and author meet-ups. Because this is the 30th anniversary, they have really  pulled out all the stops.

Because I am between series right now (see last month's post on plotting plotting plotting), I find myself in a little bit of a limbo. I get to plan my own schedule. See the panels I want to see (totally hunted down Jude Devereaux), and relax. A new concept for me in general, let alone at a conference.

So I find myself mostly sitting and watching and listening. The conversations here are awesome because everyone is as exciting about books as I am. And boy, are the topics varied. The two women across from my right now are talking about the upswing in New Adult. Two women in the elevator this morning were still talking about the Fated to be Mated panel that our very own Jeaniene Frost and Kerrelyn Sparks gave yesterday afternoon.

And no one is even noticing me. I feel very ninja. Listening to everyone, watching them stroll by in their Regency dresses or their Steampunk corsets (how Karina Cooper does it, I have no idea). And the SHOES. There are some fabulous shoes here.

Oh, right now, someone just asked me for a chair and I think she's doing the same thing that I am, capturing the energy and love of good stories and, lets be honest, some cute cover models.

LOOK, THERE'S JULIE GARWOOD. Have to go stalk someone!

This is Amanda Arista signing off from behind a ficus!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amanda Arista, Diaries of an Urban Panther
www.amandaarista.com

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Yeah, I know that it's a cheesy title, but some times the oldies are the oldies because they really are the goodies.

Are you ready for it?

I'm plotting. I KNOW! I've had this new series jammed in my head for ages now and my pantser lifestyle just wasn't cutting it. Too many ideas, too much world-building that needed to happen.

So I'm plotting it out. Taking a tip from my friend Karina Cooper and using post-its to figure out what needs to go where. Currently there are three colors: the good gal, the romantic lead, and the bad guy.

Those of you who have read this blog for a while know that when I wrote Diaries, I was a hard-core pantser. Me and Violet just went on a little adventure together and eventually a book was born.

But this one. Demons and Guardians and Innocents, oh my. The more I plot, the more it changes, layers are added, characters become more refined and devious. And maybe just a little sexier.

But it seems to be going so slow. I think that was the nice thing about pantsing, there were words on the page immediately. Who knew that I was into such instant gratification?

So my new tools of the trade:

My huge easel that houses all my notes.












My Sharpies. There really is no beating the smell and writing quality of a good marker. I have to admit that I was overly giddy as I walked into Office Depot to get these babies.

And I knew I had to figure out a way to conquer that need for instant gratification, so every time a post-it goes down, I get a Junior Mint. Great for the creative process, not so much for the waistline.





So here's going to my new way of writing. I really hope that it works because I'm really excited about this new project and I really want to share it with my Supernatural Underground family.

*********************************

Amanda Arista
www.amandaarista.com

Reasons Why You Never Want to Make an Author Mad *

Come on, you've seen us. We're all very lovely people, us authors. We smile at the cameras, sign books, hug fans, and so on. Surely, making an author mad must be akin to swatting at a dust bunny, right? I mean, what are we going to do? Cry into our keyboards?

Well. Sort of.

See, yesterday I found myself in the middle of a task that I do actually need for this current run of books I'm plotting. And as I scrolled through pages and pages of data, I thought to myself, Karina, it's a damn good thing your profession is what it is.

Because how else am I to explain why my internet history is full of information on modern day torture techniques?

That's right. Let's talk about reason number one: We know how make you scream. We've researched it down to the last details—certainly not for ourselves, oh, no, but what out characters know, we know. And if we're carrying around a character who is an inquisitor, or a character who was tortured, or worse, we know.

Would we use it? Oh, of course not, officer! We'd never use this information for evil. We're entertainers, not in the business of making the things we know actually happen. Right?

Heh. Heh heh. Right.

Reason number two to avoid making us angry? We know how to hide the body. We've thoroughly researched it. Currents, erosion, garbage truck route details, you name it, we know it. We're a little obsessive when it comes to details, you might have noticed. After all, how else can we guarantee that the extra we offed in chapter 4 doesn't come to light until chapter 15?

The devil is, in fact, in the details.

And speaking of details, let's talk about reason number three: we know things about weapons even the movies get wrong. In that obsession with details, we'll travel all over the information highway to get the facts. Which means we know what kind of weapons a SEAL carries, we know which weapons jam underwater and which can fire in below freezing temperatures. We know which bullets will turn your brain into so much pink mist and which will leave a neat little exit wound, and which sniper rifle will make this easy.

We know about ninja stars, and the different kinds of knives. We know which guns have suppressors and which can be made to have suppressors, and that the potato suppressor doesn't actually work.

Oh, and I certainly don't mean we'd use these tidbits of terminal information on you! I mean characters, of course! We know how to kill characters. As I said, we're in the habit of making up stories, not in shaping reality. Rest easy, dear reader.

Unless, of course, you'd like to make us mad...?

Which brings us to reason number four: Odds are, we have fans in the police department. No joke! If it's not the boys in blue who love us, it's the women. Or the wives. Regardless of who or how, the reality is, we have people who would love to give us alibis.

Wouldn't any of you give me an alibi if I rang you up one day? "Hey, listen, I'll make a character of your choice and thank you in the acknowledgements if you just tell these nice people where I was yesterday. You know, at your house. Watching Friends. And eating cheddar cheese."

Then there's reason number five: You remember school, when there'd be this rumor going around about "that girl" who did this one horribly embarrassing thing, and you knew—just knew—that everyone was talking about you?

Imagine having a character based on you. A character who reveals all your secrets—or makes them up. A character who is murdered in the most grisly way. Or a character who survives, but gets exactly what he or she deserves?

Yeah. In our worlds, baby, we're the gods. And we will talk about you in our godly land of godliness.

You don't want that, do you?

So there you are. Five very good reasons not to piss off your favorite authors. Or even your not so favorite authors. They're really logical, aren't they? I mean, can't you just see the gorgeous Vicki Petersson cackling with glee as she comes up with creative ways to use a coin slot machine and a pair of dice to off somebody?

Or the fabulous Eve Silver, coming up with a viable scientific theory as to how a contagion plague could be released just at a certain point for maximum efficacy?

Let's not discount Merrie Destefano, who knows all the good places in New Orleans to hide a body, or Joss Ware, who knows seventeen ways to dismember a man beyond recognition. Juliana Stone knows what kind of wounds look like animal attacks—"I have no idea, officer, it looks like a jaguar attack to me."—and Pamela Palmer who is an engineer, and you know how devilishly clever engineers are. I wouldn't mess with her with a twenty-foot pole and a getaway driver on speed dial.

Ahhh, authors. So innocent, and yet...

Mwahaha.

* Note: This post is entirely tongue-in-cheek and not actually a commentary on the likelihood of authors to commit heinous crimes against real, living people. This is a joke. A post devoted to the rather hilarious fact that we tend to research the most horrible things in our bid to get it right.

Murder is bad, mmkay?

It's the End of the World as We Know It

...So how do you feel? Fine?

I hope so! You'll need to save your energy for Tuesday, May 31st, for all those amazing books coming out. Like athletes preparing for a competition, you have to practice, practice, practice! Grab those books. Devour their contents, one page at a time!

Think you can do that?

I know I'm going to be working on the very same thing. After all, when Blood of the Wicked comes out, I'll be reading it, too. I have to! There's something I love about that new book smell. Or, for you digital readers, that new book download bar.

I think that'd be the biggest issue I'd have with any end of the world scenario, really. What are the odds that books don't survive the transition? If you think about it, they're nothing more than fragile paper. Paper is flammable. It gets wet and pulpy. It doesn't hold up well.

And I, unfortunately, need books.

In my Dark Mission series, most things in life worth reading have transitioned to the equivalent of e-readers. What paper is used is recycled again and again, and only the really decadent types waste it. After all, everything has to be imported to a closed off city, right? Which means that books are rare. More, after the cataclysms, the old stories weren't exactly high on the list of "Things We Need to Survive".

Can you imagine a life without Shakespeare? Without Jane Austen? Without romance books?

Makes you shiver, doesn't it?

So, hypothetical for you: Say it's the end of the world. If you could only pick one thing to take with you, what would it be?

The Brain That Ate Manhattan

... Except I don't live anywhere near Manhattan, so I guess I should say "the brain that ate Seattle". Since I sort of feel like this, some days.

Sometimes, people ask me, "How did you know you wanted to be a writer?" Quite frankly, I didn't. But that answer is hardly the exciting kerfuffle people are looking for, so I always have to make something up. "I sent a message to myself from ten years in the future," I say, "rolled up in a wine bottle and covered in gold dust and gourmet chocolate. It says, 'Karina, you totally want to be a writer.'" If I can't trust myself, who can I trust?

But the truth of it is much less awesome. The fact is, it's not that I've known all my life that I wanted to write. More like, my brain refuses to shut up.

This actually has a point to the subject at hand.

Ever since I was a kid, my brain has always been active. Thinking, processing, getting sidetracked. On and on, in cyclical discourses with itself and imaginary voices. I was the bane of my schools, too fidgety, too active, too bored by standard busy work. I'm sure I have some form of ADHD, since my dad has it and I'm exactly like him.

But because of this constant brain noise, a chatter that followed me into adulthood and all associated slavery therein, I was a bit of a career gypsy. Just as soon as I figured out everything about the job, as soon as I could do it without thinking about it—to wit, as soon as it no longer required brain power to do it—I found something else to do.

But writing is something different. For ten years, give or take the occasional slacker delay, I was able to really direct that brain chatter into something that never, ever seemed to get easier. No matter how many books I complete, how many characters I make, how many plots I make, it never stops being hard. Good hard, the kind of hard that keeps me engaged and focused and, yes, swearing, but good.

Just not easier.

And that's the beauty of doing what I do.

So I have to ask: all of you with careers you love, or hobbies that you absolutely must do to be happy, what is it that keeps you engaged with it? What do you like that keeps you there and eagerly going for more?

Who am I? I'm a paranormal romance author for Avon Romance, with my first book coming out May 31st, 2011. What does this mean? It means there will be murder, mayhem, and some seriously sexy hijinks afoot. Don't miss it!

Shameless Self-Promotion

And the Winners Are:

With the help of Random.Org, I have your hot stuff right here. Would the following people email me their mailing addresses?

1. Sara

2. Unseelieme

3. SiNn

4. Casey H.

Thanks for all the fabulous hero recommendations! My To Be Read pile is just climbing and climbing. ;) If you didn't win, not to worry: there'll be another contest soon, and next time, I'll be giving away an ARC of Blood of the Wicked to a lucky reader.

XOXO

Here's the deal, my lovelies: I spent all night long dressed to the nines and pretending to be faerie at a masquerade ball. Because of this, my head is only just taped together and I haven't even made it through my first cup of coffee yet.

So although I desperately flail to be entertaining—this is how much I love y'all, realize—I shall take this moment to shamelessly promote myself. Well, not me. No one cares about me. All the buzz I'm hearing is about Silas, the rather angry hero of May 31st's release, Blood of the Wicked.

In honor of the upcoming debut, and definitely in honor of the man working his ass off inside it, I'm going to offer a simple contest. It's a two-parter, so are you ready?

Step One

Sign up on my newsletter. There's a reason for this! Firstly, it'll keep you up to date on the announcements, releases, glorious covers, some exclusive contests and first dibs on excerpts. And (bonus!) I only intend to send it out every three months. That's 4 a year, and maybe one or two for the Really Very Big Announcements(tm).

Secondly, the first newsletter is going out March 1st, and you will not want to miss what's in it!

Step Two

Leave a comment and tell me your absolute, most favorite hero of all time. Who is he? What book is he from? Why do you love him so?

Shall I start? I think I shall: Right now, my absolute favorite hero is Jericho Barrons from Karen Marie Moning's Fever series. More of an anti-hero, a dark hero, he nevertheless has imprinted himself forever on my heart—aggressive, sensual, wildly mysterious, predatory, demanding. If he were mine, I'm pretty sure one of us would be dead, but oh, what a ride.

I will choose randomly four—yes, four—people who have completed both. (If you already signed up to my newsletter, I thank you and it shall be counted, never fear!) These four will receive a little something-something, plus an extra little something-something that isn't being offered until the newsletter comes out.

I'll be picking the winners tomorrow (Sunday), so get in while you can! The winners will be announced on this post, so make sure to check back and follow the easy instructions I'll post then.

But Wait! There's More...

Keep your eyes peeled, because either in April or May, I'll be offering a major contest where a lucky winner could receive an ARC for Blood of the Wicked. How can you make sure to get in on this? Easy... Just follow me on Facebook or Twitter, and keep an eye on my blog at Teatime Iniquity. Or watch the Supernatural Underground. There's a million ways to wear the stalking hat.

So, let's hear them, people. Get thee to that newsletter, and then tell me who your favorite hero is. I'm dying to know.

Lightning Round!

Because I'm in the middle of deadline dementia, I really struggled with what to write about today. In a bid for absolute slackery—what? that's what Twitter is for—I threw out a call for something to answer.

I got a handful of questions and I chose one, but more on that later. Today's Underground post is going to be a Lightning Round!

You ready? Pull down your goggles, folks, and let's hit it.

You Wants It, Preciousssss

Did you see this? Have I not thrown it around like the absolute crack that it is?

But wait, there's more! No, really, there is. Would you like another peek at Jessie and Silas? Are you feeling properly voyeuristic? Want an eyeful of eyecandy?

I'm talking, like, eyecandy, man. More eyecandy than a single eye can safely take in! More than two eyes can handle; epic eyecandy of doom.

...But I'm not going to reveal it here. What's the fun in that? No, instead, you must work for it. You must fall to your knees in supplication and demand—yes, I said demand!—your taste of the good stuff!

Or... you can sign up for my newsletter by clicking this rather verbose link. Don't worry; it only takes a moment, and I promise not to fill your inbox with the utter deliciousness that is my glistening spam-meats. Four newsletters a year. First dibs at some contests, up to date release news and even exclusive excerpts.

Especially nice for those of you who don't want to put up with my barrage of spam-like gibbets on Twitter and Facebook. (See what I did there? Yeah, you can follow me there, too, if you really can't get enough of me.)

So do it. Do eet. You can unsubscribe at any time.

A Rose By Any Other Name is Totally Not a Rose

How do you decide on names for your characters? Sometimes names are symbolic sometimes just smexy. How do you do the name-voodoo that you do so well?

/via Sharon S., Facebook

When I put out the call for people to ask me any questions they wanted, I thought this one would be a great one to answer here at the Supernatural Underground. Why? Several reasons: 1) Sharon's a fab Supernatural Underground fan. 2) It lets me talk about Blood of the Wicked some. And 3) She used the word "smexy". I love that word.

Don't worry... I've got some more questions to answer and I will! Check back at Teatime Iniquity to see what I've got to say. Usually, a lot.

I have no tried and true formula for naming. Names are, you know, names. Like book. Bell. Bird. And other things beginning with B. Whenever I think about names and naming conventions, I always flash to that scene in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy:

Ahhhhh...! What's happening? Er, excuse me, who am I? Hello? Why am I here? What's my purpose in life? What do I mean by who am I? Calm down, get a grip now... Oh! This is an interesting sensation, what is it? It's a sort of...yawning, tingling sensation in my...my...well, I suppose I'd better start finding names for things if I want to make any headway in what for the sake of what I shall call an argument I shall call the world, so let’s call it my stomach. So, a yawning tingling sensation in my stomach Good. Ooooh, it’s getting quite strong. And hey, what about this whistling, roaring sound going past what I'm suddenly going to call my head? That can be... Wind! Is that a good name? Oh er, It’ll do... perhaps I can find a better name for it later when I've found out what it’s for because there certainly seems to be a hell of a lot of it. Hey! What's this thing? This... let's call it a tail. Yeah! Tail. Hey! I can really thrash it about pretty good, can't I? Wow! Wow! Hey doesn’t seem to achieve much but I'll probably find out what it's for later on. Now, have I built up any coherent picture of things yet? No. Oh hey, this is really exciting, so much to find out about, so much to look forward to, I'm quite dizzy with anticipation... Or is it the wind? Hey! There really is a lot of that now, isn't there? And wow! What's this thing suddenly coming toward me very fast? Very, very fast. So big and flat and wide it needs a big wide-sounding word like ...ow...ound...round...ground! That's it! Ground! I wonder if it'll be friendly?

/BBC Productions, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

In short, if it sounds good, I use it. Then that name becomes part of the character, and it's as if that character never had any other name. Nor could it belong to any other character; Silas is Silas. There is only one Naomi.

All that said? I do have a bit of a process. It goes like this:

ME: "I just finished listening to Neil Gaiman's audiobook of The Graveyard Book. He has such a wonderful voice. Oh, and the way he wrote and read for Silas was just so. Freaking. Good. Silas. Yeah. Hey, what a name. That's a good name. Nice and strong, but old-fashioned. I like the way Neil said the name. Silas. Silas. Si-las. I think I like it. Have I said that? I do. Maybe I'll use it. Hey, I should write something now. What about? Oh, you know. Witches and witch hunters. Ooh. You know, Silas has a bit of a Biblical sound to it. Witch hunter. Totally. You know what else has a Biblical sound to it? Jonas. Now there's a fine name."

MANCANDY: "I like Jakob."

ME: "Shut up, you already used Jakob to death. Ooh, Jake's a good name, but I always see him as a blond."

MANCANDY: [blond]


Me: "...Shut up."

And so on, so forth. If you've spoken with me or watched my video blogs, you know I think and speak exactly like that.

And then there are the names I steal from the mancandy. Ian Black. Alex Bishop. He used them for characters first. Then again, he's stolen names from me, too. So it's sort of fair. Like marriage. What's his is mine, and what's mine is mine... Wait.

Lend Me Your Gibbets!

Actually, don't. Keep your gibbets. What I would like, however, are your suggestions.

I finished Karen Marie Moning's Shadowfever on Tuesday. Yes, last Tuesday. Yes, the day it came out—Look, you aren't judging me, right? Right! So, what I need from you are suggestions.

Come, my paranormal fetishists! What books are you really digging right now?

The Random Stuff

Bring on the TMI!

Actually, not so much. I'd invite you into my bedroom, but it's kind of a mess and I'm sure it's far too small. So instead, here's a quickie. Wait, not... Look, okay, try to keep up?

I've had the plague. The zombie plague. Well, I didn't eat gibbets—golly, why is that word so prolific up in here?—but I did lose a week to whatever not-zombie plague dance I got all wrapped up in. This means it's not just deadline dementia over here, it's downright disturbia.

One day, I want to write a series with Disturbia as the title.

Which is kind of related but actually separate from my deeply rooted desire to write a series of books with random song lyrics as the title.

I digress...

Now that I'm getting over the plague, I'm back to writing. But I need a new office chair, because holy mother of all things made of cheese, my sciatic nerve has been killing me.

It gets better when I don't spend eight hours in my crappy office chair, but hello? Author. Livelihood. Etc. So I've been scoping out chairs. Any suggestions, my deliciously seated friends?

Otherwise, it's business as usual at my place. Lots of glamor (coughhackliecough) and lots and lots and lots of caffeine.

In News That Happened to Other People

Colleen Gleason got her tweet scoped out by The Jersey Shore, yo. Seriously. Right now—well, okay, not now because she's probably out snogging with her big gorilla juicehead sent from God, but soon!—Snooki will be praying that Colleen gets a big gorilla juicehead all her very own.

Merrie Destefano got her newsletter up! If you're going to get mine, you really should sign up for hers, too. She's worked her poor fingers to the bone for you all. To the bone. 42 hours of labor she suffered for you, and the least you could do is call your mother. All day long over the stove, and what do you do? You don't eat your carrots. All day long—Wait, where was I?

Oh, yes. Go get her newsletter.

Hey! Did you know that Chuck Wendig knows your dirty, dirty secret? You know, that one. That one. No, not that one. Not that one, either. Dude—don't tell that one. I mean the other one: the one about how you really, really don't want to be a writer. Oh, yeah. He knows. And now everyone does, too.

But guess what? He's knows the other one, too. Your other dirty little secret. The one that says screw that noise, you totally want to be a writer.

...Are you overwhelmed yet? Then I shall consider this a job well done and go back to my own corner of this disturbed little dementia land.

Bye!

Love ya!

....Mean it!

Christmas Traditions

Good morning, lovely, and happy Boxing Day to you all! Was your Christmas fabulous? Mine was, and we're still celebrating over here at Chez Karina. We have leftovers to nom on, presents to find homes for, cats to cuddle and a rabbit who has enjoyed nibbling away at all her wicker ornaments.

And I think I'll convince the mancandy to go out and get my favoritest seasonal thing in the whole world—apple pie. (Well, all right, second only to a fine bottle of Bailey's to put in my coffee and hot cocoa.)

And what better way to spend the day after Christmas? Why, with my third favorite seasonal thing ever, and a tradition I've picked up along the years: Christmas anthologies!

Because I don't have enough books in my shelf, I always have to add a few more every Christmas. Along with the usual suspects—like Cherry Adair, whose Undertow is releasing on Tuesday!—I have a weakness for Christmas anthologies. Especially ones featuring hot guys with Christmas accoutrements.

This year's was Hot for the Holidays, a paranormal extravaganza featuring shapeshifters, knights in shining armor, Fae on the run, and lots of Christmas magic.

I love Christmas. I love what it represents, and I love what it means to families and children and lovers. I love stories set around Christmastime and I can never get enough, so I hope that publishers will continue to put out these heartwarming stories year after year, so I can devour them by the twinkling lights of my Christmas tree.

What about you? Do you have a favorite Christmas tradition? A favorite book you read 'round the holidays, or perhaps a trip you take to view the lights in your city? What's your favorite Christmas story ever?

Karina Cooper is a paranormal romance author for Avon. The first of her Dark Mission series, Blood of the Wicked, will be available in May. She's a Christmas fiend and gets twitterpated around Christmas lights, and don't let her lie—she always gravitates towards holiday anthologies that feature a sexy Santa on the cover. She's easy like that.

Bringing Sexy Back

All right, ladies, let's keep this short and sweet, shall we?

(Gentlemen, pull up a chair and add your assent, won't you? I think the ladies will appreciate it.)

I have, on and off for the past ten years or so, worked at a Halloween store. Not this year, but I do go in now and again to lend a hand and the mancandy likes to dress up at any given opportunity and go hang out to drive sales. So! I have experience, y'all. I know what I'm talking about. For this brief moment in time, I am The Expert.

And the Expert is telling you ladies to quit waiting for Halloween to bring the sexy on.

Are you listening?

Here's how this goes: Every year, I saw beautiful women—and I'm talking, like, normal, everyday women who just so happen to be beautiful because they're like you—come rushing into the store and ogle the sexy costumes. And every year, I'd watch the Leg Avenue costumes fly off the shelves.

Okay, I know some of them are totally skankalicious, but there are some gorgeous Leg Avenues out there. Their pirate collection is especially lovely.

But I always think: Halloween. Ghoulish, ghostie delights. It's the one time a year you can dress up really scary and weird and fantastical (unless you're a con professional or, you know, actually a zombie). It's the day and night when no one will think twice if you're covered in blood, growling around and threatening to eviscerate children (Trust me, I know...)

So why do all these ladies keep going for the sexy time costumes?

Look. I'm not trying to tell you how to do your business, but I have a proposition for you. Are you listening? Here, have some tea. Okay, here's the deal:

There are 364 other days (probably not including the days you attend Church or something, so use your own judgment here) when you can dress as sexy as you like. It might not be as in-your-face as a Leg Avenue costume, but there is a sexy that is not just encouraged in public, but just drop-dead-gorgeous. There are 364 days to be confident, gorgeous, show a little leg or flash a red-lipped smile. To let your hair down. To wear a skirt and a wedge heel or a pair of jeans and a sweater that hugs just so, and make every eye in the room turn to you with a silent, Wow.

But only one when you cover yourself in blood and stagger through the streets.

At least without psychiatric evaluation to follow.

So come on, ladies. Join me in this: I think we should bring sexy back, every day. Or at least every day we bother to leave the house. It takes work to look as good as we do, after all—we should get the occasional day off. (Says the oh, so glamorous author sitting in her robe and slippers...)

And on Halloween, we should go all out: blood, gore, fangs, flesh, whatever. And you know what? If you want to be sexy on Halloween too, I'm all for it. Let's just add a little supernatural flair—fangs, bloody aprons, meat cleavers. The Black Widow who temps her loves and devours them in her web, I can get behind that.

But let's embrace the spirit of Halloween, which isn't to dress up in a way you could every day (sexy, ladies, you know it), but as someone or something you're not.

And every lady is sexy. You just have to tap into it, is all.

So who's with me? Who wants to being sexy back?

Wish I could tell you I'm a better guy...

...love is all around and only real men cry. But all I wanna do is jump your bones; slam dance all night to the music of your moans.

All right. Take a minute, get some tea. Coffee. You know, something wet. Possibly alcoholic. A martini. Let's be classy. Let's be honest. Put on some lipstick and your best serious glasses (although dear gentlemen, you may choose one, if you prefer) and let's have a chat.

I have a confession. And I suspect I'm not the only one.

You say you want my love...

...well, my love tastes of salt.

Sometimes, the best heroes are those who know what they want. And what they bloody well want is her.

Come on, think about it. sit back, cross your legs most ladylike at the knee (or most dashingly, if you so choose) and purse your mouth thoughtfully. You may, if you wish, make a noise, such as, "Hmm." Or, if you prefer, "Ah..." Let me pose to you a question to answer:

Is there anything that makes a woman feel more special, more attractive, more turned on than simply being wanted?

Not because we hold the key to some artifact of power, not because something in our genetics speaks out to a creature of the night. Not because we're rich, or because we've fallen in his lap and need to be saved. Nor is it because we—as is far more likely, ladies—saved him.

Wanted because something about us speaks to him. Wanted because he took one look and thought, "I have to taste her." Wanted, my dear friends, because he is male and thinking with every masculine chromosome he possess from the neck down.

Am I right?

If there's a deeper meaning that you're trying to find...

...it's in your head, you'd better treat it kind.

Now, I hear you—But Karina, you shout, waving the olive-adorned toothpick from your martini between two fingers, that would make a very short book!

I agree, and I certainly wouldn't want to shortchange any of my favorite books. As you may have realized by now, I'm an avid fan of murder, mayhem, mystery and magic. And, likely, other words beginning with 'm'. A little blood brings out the best in everyone.

And certainly, an alpha werewolf, sexy vampire or adrenaline-junkie monster hunter will have his own problems, tasks and goals in mind. I won't begrudge any of them this. Just because a hero has things on his mind doesn't mean he can't fall in lust at first sight.

Conversely, just because he falls in lust at first sight doesn't mean he can't have other things to tend to.

All too often in paranormal romance, I find that heroes are so wrapped up in their lives, their goals, their murders and life-threatening events that the conflict between hero and heroine invariably stems from the usuals—he needs to hunt her, she wants to kill him, he needs to protect her from the monsters and falls for her in close quarters, hate at first sight, competition at first sight, and so forth.

I wonder, are there any paranormal romance books out there where the hero—or the heroine—simply decides from the start that he wants the woman who isn't at all part of the plot, the community he's protecting, or even related at all to the subject at hand? Or that she is going to land herself the hunky man at the bar for the kind of late-night getting-to-know-you that leaves her humming in the morning?

Sure, such an event would likely draw the other into the plot, but that's life, isn't it? A chance encounter that rocks your world, and changes it...

And in the best of worlds you are the same as me...

...You think of life and love and morals separately. You don't expect a promise to last longer than the words themselves.

The aspect of this I love the most is the sheer, unadulterated passion that draws these two together. It's not mired in mystery, or in politics, or in ulterior motives.

I once started writing a book—which, to my everlasting shame, was lost in a hard drive crash—involving a human hero and a Fae-cursed heroine. She wanted nothing to do with him, mostly due to her own issues, but he took one look at her and thought to himself, Sean, buddy, you've got to nail that before you go home.

Was it classy? Nope.

Was it honest? Skippy. Honest to the to the bone.

And because he single-mindedly pursued her, he ended up sucked into a world far beyond his knowledge. But the wanting came first. The acting on that want came before anything else, and I'd be lying if I said that Mairi wasn't more than a little turned on by that attention. He didn't want her magic, or her secrets. Hell, he didn't even know she was anything more than the proprietor of a Bed & Breakfast. He simply... wanted her. And that got his foot in the door, unwitting though it was.

My point, ladies and gentlemen, is such: plot is juicy. Plot makes the world go 'round, it changes people, develops them. Plot is the bread and butter of books. However, I submit that not everything has to do with plot.

Sometimes, two people just desperately want to shag.

Furthermore, I submit that there is something raw, something unparalleled... dare I say it? Something unspoilt about two people who are attracted to one another without the meddling fingers of plot to force the attraction in some way or another.

Plot will have the rest of the book to yo-yo them around.

Give me a man who is honest about his wants. The woman who responds to that raw honesty is bound to find her life changed forever.

... Or waking up the next morning with tangled sheets and a hazy memory of a guy whose name might have been Fred. You know, it can go either way. In romance books, the morning after can be one hell of a start.

Karina Cooper is a paranormal romance author for Avon. Her debut novel, Blood of the Wicked—an urban romance set in a world torn apart by a war between the accused and the hunters sworn to kill them—will be released in 2011. She's not actually advocating that people run off and sleep with the first person who says, "I want you," but does challenge everyone to keep a mental note of how many pick-up artists actually try that line instead something cheesy. You know, for science.

All lyrics in headers and following quotes come from Fiction Plane's It's a Lie, only one of her most favorite songs ever.

Words to Die By

Disclaimer to my Gentle Readers: Today's post touches on a spread of subjects that some may find disturbing. As such, if you are one of many who are put off by the subject of serial killers and their crimes, please read no further, and wait with bated breath for tomorrow's post written by someone with much less darker fare than I.

Sincerely yours,

- K.

Inauguration day. Confetti. Music. Lots of men in suits and women in amazing dresses. They'd be vintage today, even retro. Not so, then.

Okay, maybe not confetti. It was in the middle of a bank panic. Oh, and a major depression—the Great one, actually. So possibly a little less swank than usual. Nevertheless! On this day, March 4th, 1933, Franklin Delano Roosevelt famously said: "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

Uh huh. What a load of crock.

But then, politicians aren't exactly known for their overarching grasp of a situation, yes? It's a very pat statement: the only thing there is to fear is, well, fear. That's all! Fear will getcha every time.

All right, you. Listen to me. I'll tell you what else there is to fear!

Monsters that Live

I fear the monsters that walk among us, disguised as every day neighbors, lovers, spouses and friends.

Among my many addictions and obsessions, a certain unhealthy fascination lingers for True Crime. Most notably, serial killers. I have read my share of books involving serial killer plots and threats, and I admit to having one or two of my own lined up in the future—fun-yet-twisted game: let's see how many standard sayings like "lined up" can be turned into serial murders!—so it's not as if I'm against using real life as inspiration for fiction.

But let's be serious for a second...

These people—these monsters wearing people faces—are real. Not just real, but out there. Right now. Hunting. Stalking. Killing. Are you shivering yet?

Okay, so that's a little sensationalist. It's impossible to get an accurate, or even remotely accurate, number of active serial killers at any given time, partly due to the—let's face it: erroneous—belief that a murder is always just a murder. (Do not, might I add, get me started...)

That said, the FBI has suggested that they believe there are between 20 and 50 unnamed active serial killers in the United States.

Fifty? That's almost one for every state! (Everyone knows the only bad thing to ever happen in Hawaii is volcanoes and tourists, so let's assume for now that Hawaii is serial-killer-free, okay? Humor me.)

And because I'm sick in the head, I have to read about them when they manage to show up in my radar. Usually, this is through a book that comes out, a media reference in the news or in a TV show, or a passing comment from someone much more learned than I.

Trust me on this, FDR. I totally fear serial killers.

In Douglas Preston's The Monster of Florence, the author and the contributor (Mario Spezi) take us on a grueling, harrowing, downright nerve-wracking ride into the strain that a monstrous serial killer causes at the height of his, or her, reign. And make no mistake, it is a reign. We only see glimpses of this in such popular TV shows as Criminal Minds, and even less in shows that aren't as tightly intertwined with serial killers and catching them as that one is.

Curious, I went looking to see where the fact met drama, and I found (as I always do) the Tru Crime Library. And despite my horror at the events unfolded for me in very plain terms, despite the list of victims, and the descriptions of the violence that made my stomach twist up in knots, I read it all.

Please forgive me, dear readers, as I lapse into a language best suited to describe my feelings on the subject. In the immortal words of, oh, probably someone on Jersey Shore or The Real Desperate Housewives: That is some fucked up shit, ya'll.

Because it is.

And who can forget the tragedy, mystery and worse of the legendary (and still unsolved) Black Dahlia? Shall we go back further?

The female serial killer with the most bodies attributed to her name is a Countess—that's right, you guessed it: Countess Elizabeth Bathory. While she most definitely existed, her guilt is still hotly debated by historians the world over. Personally, I can see why her legend has reached across scenturies to inspire some fo the world's scariest ghost- and vampire tales.

Wait, you want to go even further than that? Very well: his name is Gilles de Rais, and among his many exploits, he is best known as a prolific serial killer of children. This is the 1400s, my darlings, and he rode as a commander in Joan of Arc's army. Can you imagine?

I could, and didn't want to, so I read about it instead. And these are the ones that are dead and gone. What kind of legacy will tomorrow's bring?

Are you afraid yet? I am.

Monsters that Don't

Let's be honest. Ten years ago, you could pick up a paranormal romance book and expect to find two things: 1. your protagonists were human, and 2. the antagonist was a monster. Monster. Mileage does, in fact, vary, but the average paranormal romance involved the struggle between good and evil—and evil was very decisively synonymous with "not human".

Frankly, I enjoy the view of "monsters" as the "good" guys (as long as we don't sanitize them too much by stripping away anything that makes being a monster a drag—whynoI'mnottalkingaboutanyspecificserieshackcough), but it didn't always used to be.

Take, for example, Supernatural. Can we?

Yes, I think we can.

This show is a pretty good example of the Monsters That Don't Exist (insofar as far as we know) genre. Aside from the very sad fact that I have the world's largest unrequited crush on Sam Winchester, this show also provides a step back into what is rapidly approaching "vintage" paranormal.

The monsters are—are you ready for this?—monsters. Not human. That's right. Vampires. Shifters. Witches. Demons. Paris Hilton. Chupacabras, for crying out loud! Even the humans who are bad guys are invariably being puppeted by monsters.

And the good guys? Are human. I mean, sure, Sam's got a little bit of a weird demon blood thing going on and Dean's feeling a little Touched by an Angel—you know it's gotten totally romancey when one brother gets laid by a demon and the other an angel within two episodes, but I digress!—but the fact is, they're mostly human. (They started straight human, but that's an ongoing series for you...)

Even the non-humans that showed up that we'd expect to be good ended up to be something less than that. At best, misguided. At worse, bigoted monkey-hating featherbrains. Why, no, Uriel, I'm not looking at you.

Bastard.

Anyhow, this used to be the standard for books that boasted paranormal themes, and let me tell you, there were some monsters written in those pages that I can not forget, even if I no longer remember the titles.

But then, let's step out of the paranormal and back into suspense. It's mostly contemporary. There are many romance books whose themes are about the stopping, or surviving, of serial murders. The antagonists in those spine-tingling thrillers is most definitely human. At least in appearance.

Do I find those scarier than any monster in the dark? You betcha, buttercup. Kay Hooper comes to mind. So does Stephen King, at his less paranormal. You know who else freaks me the hell right out?

An author that has carved out a permanent niche inside my memory banks and seems intent on staying for the ride: Clive Barker.

On a lark one day, about ten years ago, I had borrowed one of his many Books of Blood from a friend. I—eh heh—devoured it rather quickly. Much like my fascination with true crime murders, I couldn't tear myself away from story after short story of the strangest, scariest, oftentimes sexualized horror I have ever in my life read.

And I still flash back to them now and again. The young kid pushed into insanity, who then turns into a scary fireman axe-wielding clown? Okay, sure. The girl and entire female-only family with the poisoned, uh, dentata? All... right...

The tourist who watches a village create a living giant of intertwined bodies that goes insane? Unfortunate.

The Sherlock Holmes & Watson tale of the Cthulhu-inspired house whose walls were on a sexual rampage? Awwwkwaaaaard.

And the worst? The one that really, really scared me? The Midnight Meat Train. I can't share the details, it's too horrifying and freaky and gross, but I do recommend you read the short story before you watch the movie. Even the title gives me a serious case of the heebie-jeebies and a terrible fear of late-night mass transit. Is it supernatural? Is it just humanity being sick and twisted?

Is it something older than even that? And how do we know that it does not, in fact, exist?

I leave you, my dear readers, with Katherine Pearson's unwitting counter to the infamous FDR, plucked from Jacob Have I Loved: "To fear is one thing. To let fear grab you by the tail and swing you around is another."

So... What, then, do you fear? And why?

Karina Cooper is a paranormal romance author for Avon. Her debut novel, Blood of the Wicked—an urban romance set in a world torn apart by a war between the accused and the hunters sworn to kill them—will be released in 2011. She's not really a total freak and promises that despite a very odd and wholly parentally unclaimed fascination with murder and monsters, she won't ever bite you. Of course, Dove ice cream bars—dark chocolate shell, of course—will always stack the odds in your favor... Also, she fears bees. Yes, bees. It's a thing.