I'd studied 16th century science and magic. I thought it was strange that people were interested in the same kinds of things my research was about. The more I thought about it, the more intriguing it became and pretty soon I was writing a novel about a reluctant witch and a 1500-year-old vampire.

It was a brutal picture, a tug-of-war between two equal but opposing impulses. It had the ring of truth, however.

I was planning on starting a new file on my computer with the title "Phrases That Sound One Way to Witches but Mean Something Else to Vampires.

Her bark is worse than her bite.

Within days they'd formed an unholy alliance with a foppish young French vampire in the Garden District who had implausibly golden hair and a streak of ruthlessness as wide as the Mississippi

I want a simple, ordinary life . . . like humans enjoy.

Desire urges me on as fear bridles me" Bruno.