The Legend of Victor Standish

Roland Yeomans is a thoughtful, amazing member of this fabulous blogosphere. Not too long ago, I was a little down and just because he's a wonderful guy, he sent me a copy of his book to cheer me. I haven't managed to get to it yet—darned edits and a couple books in front in line—but I am REALLY looking forward to it, so I thought I'd share a little about it today.

You know... even among the dead, there are good guys and bad guys... and what better place to set a story about these dead than New Orleans?

The thing that really sucked me into wanting to read this story was the book trailer, which you can see here (I definitely recommend watching)

From Goodreads, here is the description:

Think THE DRESDEN FILES meets AUNTIE MAME meet JANE EYRE.

Beware French Quarter nights, for the dead come back to drink from the living.
And when the hour tolls, never let Midnight find you at the crypt of Marie Laveau.

It is never quiet here. The thud of a blow into flesh. The whimper that follows.

The screech of marble against stone as a heavy lid grudgingly slides open.
What is that? Only a shadow you say, more in hope than in belief. You are not that lucky.

It is Her.

She who hungers for love … and for the flesh of Man.

The black tears streaking down her face. They are mute testimony that there can be no love for the thing she has become.

But there is flesh. Your flesh. See her reach out for you.
The night soon has new sounds. Your screams.

Reality is more than we know. It is more than we are able to know. And sometimes we fall through the rabbit-hole.

Have you ever looked at your image in the mirror and thought does the world I know exist for this copy of me? Or beyond that reflected corner is there a more magical, lyrical, dangerous world?

Nearly fourteen year old Victor Standish lives in such a world.

There are strange tales told by the vagrants of the French Quarter when midnight descends. The hours fade as the shadows creep closer. The tales are not to amuse, but to keep weary eyes from closing.

For the creeping shadows are hungry.

One such tale is THE LEGEND OF VICTOR STANDISH.

All his life Victor Standish is repeatedly abandoned and picked up by his unpredictable mother. He learns “free running” and other skills a boy needs to survive the mean streets.

Victor finds New Orleans brings "mean" to a new level : the supernatural level.

A mysterious Jazz club owner takes him in. Victor learns the Jazz club is actually the Crossroads of Worlds ... and the owner has the blood of Death in his veins. They both find love and adventure as Hurricane Katrina approaches.

The undead Abigail Adams marshals her forces to repel the Shadowland invasion led by her European counterpart, Empress Theodora.

Empires care much about power and little about people. The jazz club owner is the exact opposite. While he tries to keep the little people of the French Quarter safe from the Big Picture, Victor falls in love with the British ghoul, Alice.

His “ghoul friend” he calls her. She is the ghoul who haunts Marie Laveau crypt. And she hungers for his heart only slightly more than his flesh. But when did young love ever run smoothly?

Link to buy

It sounds fabulous, eh? I'm really looking forward to it!

As for MY world... I had two extra boys at my house last night, made chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and am trying to recover from 2 harder runs (hard by my standard) on Friday and Saturday, plus over an hour of gardening yesterday, so hopefully the rest of today I can just do a little catch up on my computer... I owe interview questions to Jessica and am way behind where I wanted to be on Kahlotus edits... it just is always rougher than I think it will be...