What do you do when your entire life seems to be one long nervous breakdown?
Running away from abuse and the emotional disintegration it has engendered, Samantha Clark finds herself living with an old flame, Stephen Young, in a tiny town in Harlan County, Kentucky. Small-town life is not equivalent to simple life, however, and Sami's is anything but. Finding the place utterly stultifying isn't encouraging her recovery. Helping to complicate the picture is her 18-year-old lover, Jeremy Bradford. And rounding it all out is the growing and disturbing sense she has that there is something unusual about the whole situation—the town, the lovers, herself.
Midnight is not your average vampire story. Eschewing the cardboard cutouts of the old Dracula image, Adkins' vampires are real people, with everyday problems and lives to lead. In addition, however, they must deal with the psychological obstacle course of blood addiction. And that, as everyone knows, is the real trick.
Told with the utter believability of what one can't help but suspect is insider knowledge, Adkins paints a riveting picture of what it is like to live in a gothic cult in an isolated mountain town. Barring no emotional holds, she explores what it is to desire in deep ways, in ways that are far beyond understanding or explanation, and the responses to that desire that open the gates to that humanity which arises within us as a result of such longings, transcending everything we thought we wanted. Because Midnight is more than mere Vampyr slash-and-gore. It is an inward journey of self-inspection, self-loathing, and, ultimately, self-acceptance. As such, it speaks directly to the human condition, and—paradoxically—gives us hope for our own lives.
What more could one ask of an author?
Running away from abuse and the emotional disintegration it has engendered, Samantha Clark finds herself living with an old flame, Stephen Young, in a tiny town in Harlan County, Kentucky. Small-town life is not equivalent to simple life, however, and Sami's is anything but. Finding the place utterly stultifying isn't encouraging her recovery. Helping to complicate the picture is her 18-year-old lover, Jeremy Bradford. And rounding it all out is the growing and disturbing sense she has that there is something unusual about the whole situation—the town, the lovers, herself.
Midnight is not your average vampire story. Eschewing the cardboard cutouts of the old Dracula image, Adkins' vampires are real people, with everyday problems and lives to lead. In addition, however, they must deal with the psychological obstacle course of blood addiction. And that, as everyone knows, is the real trick.
Told with the utter believability of what one can't help but suspect is insider knowledge, Adkins paints a riveting picture of what it is like to live in a gothic cult in an isolated mountain town. Barring no emotional holds, she explores what it is to desire in deep ways, in ways that are far beyond understanding or explanation, and the responses to that desire that open the gates to that humanity which arises within us as a result of such longings, transcending everything we thought we wanted. Because Midnight is more than mere Vampyr slash-and-gore. It is an inward journey of self-inspection, self-loathing, and, ultimately, self-acceptance. As such, it speaks directly to the human condition, and—paradoxically—gives us hope for our own lives.
What more could one ask of an author?
Midnight will soon be available.
