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Thursday, February 14, 2013

Author Take Over with Rae Hachton

I am so excited for today's Author Take Over. I love Rae Hachton and her books are EPIC! I can not wait for this new book to come out so I can buy it for my shelf. But first let's get to know more about Rae before I hand over the blog to her and the awesome excerpt she has for us. 


I am the author of Pretty in Black I'm also a self-proclaimed Vampire expert, and highly fascinated by Zombies. 

My nom de plume is Rae Hachton, but my real name is Desirae. I write novels for young adults. I am the author of the Pretty in Black series, which is a Gothic Romance. Some of my favorite things are moonflowers, ravens and crows, The Raveonettes music, black roses, railroad tracks, the Victorian era, and cemeteries. If I could be a time of day, I would be 5:55 p.m. or that magical hour during sunset. More things that I like: Violin music, spiders & cobwebs, 50s music, skeletons, Dracula, & Castles. Also, I love Jones Soda and Pocky, and wishes Halloween were everyday.

Stalker Links:


Frankie's Monster is all about hearts. And JOHNNY HE [ART]

Johnny Heart is a xombie with a clock-work heart, who lives alone in the attic of this dark mansion. He spends his time drawing and making sculptures, until he meets Francesca Valentine. After that, he tries to win her heart, while simultaneously trying not to tear it from her chest and eat it.

So we have a mild-steampunk romantic horror story about a xombie with a clock-work heart, who is an artist and a heart eater. Yep, that's right. You heard it correctly.



Excerpt:

PANCAKE SCENE
Johnny's POV

You need food, Francesca. You should eat.”
“I do need food. I'm starving,” she laughed. “Do you have food here? What do you eat?”
Hmph.
“Come with me,” I said. “It's after midnight so it's officially breakfast time. I'll make you pancakes.”
“Oh my gosh, you will?” she beamed.
“Mhm. Only because I love you though.”
“With chocolate chips in them?” she smiled.
“The works. Whatever you want. Done.”
She followed me out of the attic, into the darkness of the spiraling staircase, down to the main floor, and into the kitchen, that was covered in blue shadows until I flipped on the light, illuminating the room in white and stainless steel.
“Wow,” she said, hopping up onto the counter, still wearing only my black sweater. There was no time to admire how sexy that was. I would do that after I made her breakfast. I reached up into the cabinet, bringing down a bag of all-purpose flour, a canister of baking powder, and a small jar of salt.
“No I do not have Hungry Jack or Bisquick. I'm doing this the real way.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Yes.” I reached below, in a different cabinet for a mixing bowl, then walked to the refrigerator, opened it to retrieve the carton of eggs, milk, and butter.
“Where do you get your groceries,” she looked at me, curiously.
“The grocery story?” I said.
“You know what I mean. Like, do you eat regular food?”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Regular food. Ha. Be careful. What's regular or “normal” in one person's diet, may not be so normal for another person. Y'know?” She gave me a look, like she was trying to analyze what I was saying. I measured the flour, baking powder, and salt then dumped it into a smaller bowl, placing it on the spinner, that mixed the items together. I cracked the eggs into another bowl, and poured milk on top, then sat it on another spinner. The gears on the mixer blended the ingredients. I looked over at Frankie. “When I said I wanted you to stay here with me, I was serious. I had to make sure there was food, I had to be prepared, in case you said yes.”
“In case I said yes?”
“Yeah. And you haven't...so,” I shrugged. “But, the groceries are coming in handy for times like these. Our brief but sweet sleepovers.”
I scooped out a spoon of butter, dumping it in the silver heating pot, so it could melt. Then I leaned against the counter, near Frankie, letting the cooking machines take care of the rest. I crossed my arms over my chest, relaxing.
“Well,” she said. “This is rather easy.”
“I like to make things real simple y'know. It looks so complex but it doesn't have to be. Like me plus you, for example. Those are the only ingredients to this equation that is us. It's the most simplest thing I've ever known. It could be so easy, if you'd just let it.” I looked up at her through the strands of my hair. “You and I, we make sense. We fit together perfectly in such an imperfect way. Like it was designed that way. So why complicate it?”
“Because,” she said. “I'm afraid to let myself fall in love with you, knowing that there's an outstanding chance I won't get to keep you. And that complicates things. It isn't so easy after all. It's not going to be so easy on my heart, that's for sure. Especially when this is the first time in my life that I've actually given a shit about anything. It's only fitting that the one thing—person—I care about could be taken from me. Oh, the irony in it all.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. Then pretended to suddenly remember something. “We don't have chocolate chips, but we have blueberries?”
She played it off, reeling in the almost emerging tears.
“Blueberries are even better,” she said, without emotion. The mixing machines slowly poured the ingredients together, into another larger bowl. The gears moved the mixing spinsters, blending the pancake batter together evenly. I added the blueberries manually. We were silent. Frankie didn't say anything else. There was no sound in the room except for the turning of gears. She watched, mesmerized, as the gears spun in the mechanism, mixing the ingredients together perfectly. I wanted the pancakes to be heart shaped, so I pressed a lever on the machine, that poured just the right proportion of batter straight through the heartshaper, and into the cooking pan. I didn't have to do anything else. When the bottom of the pancake was cooked to an even light brown, the pan automatically flipped it to the other side. When it was finished, and fully cooked, the pan flipped it onto the plate. The syrup train brought a variety of different toppings down to the end of the line, where Francesca sat. She giggled, amazed.
“This is so awesome,” she said, smiling. She drizzled the edible heart in strawberry syrup, then speared it into her mouth with a fork, savouring every delicious bite.
When she was finished eating, I carried her dishes to the sink. Returning to where she was, I scooped her up off the counter, carrying her in my arms, out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my bedroom. She laughed the entire way. I swung open the bedroom door and tossed her onto the warm mattress. “Get to sleep before I pounce on you and it's too late.”


Find out how Johnny was brought to life right now on Goodreads. You can read the intro to Frankie'sMonster by clicking READEXCERPT. Also, don't forget to add it to your TBR list!

Thank you Rae for taking over my blog and giving us an excerpt of Frankie's Monster. I can't wait to read it. 

Happy Valentine's Day!!  

~Sabrina





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