Jennifer Rardin - [Jaz Parks 1] - Once Bitten, Twice Shy

knelt beside me, a wide smile stretching his face to new limits, making him look happy and pained at the same time. 'Jasmine, I am so glad you're here.' I thought about it a minute and nodded. 'Me too.'

Acknowledgments

I should first recognize my husband's part in this whole scheme since, when I finally confessed to him my secret love of all things vampire, he didn't laugh and say, 'Good Lord, Jen, how old are you?' Nope, he said, 'Then maybe you should write a vampire novel.' To which I replied, 'It's all been done already.' And he said, 'Not by you.' So, thanks babe, without your encouragement, I'd never have dared this book. Big thanks to my agent, Laurie McLean, for taking a chance on me and giving me the kind of full-out support and honest feedback I have come to deeply appreciate. Thanks also to my editor, Devi Pillai, whose humor, patience, insight, and constant barrage of questions have helped me elevate this work to a level I couldn't have imagined when I first sent it to her. For their insights into weaponry and military information I must acknowledge Ron Powell and Ben Rardin. Any mistakes I've made in either arena are my own. And special you-brave-soul hugs to my readers for taking on the daunting task of reviewing a raw manuscript and offering honest feedback to its nail-biting author. Love to you all: Jackie Plew, Hope Dennis, Ron Powell, Katie Rardin, and Erin Pringle. Most of all, thanks to you, Reader, for climbing out to the edge of this limb with me. I hope you enjoy the view!

meet the author

Jennifer Rardin began writing at the age of 12, mostly poems to amuse her classmates and short stories featuring her best friends as the heroines. She lives in an old farmhouse in Illinois with her husband and two children. Find out more about Jennifer Rardin at www.JenniferRardin.com.

interview

We sat in my sunroom, though dark had fallen hours before. I thought Jaz had chosen the spot for Vayl's sake. So he could watch. I knew she'd brought him, as she had many times before, but we had yet to meet. I wasn't sure why.

The tape recorder sat on the coffee table between us, mutely turning, as if constantly shaking its head at the story she'd been documenting for the last few weeks. I could hardly believe it myself.

Jen: 'You've told me things I'm sure some people would keep from their priests. But that's still left me with some pretty big questions.' Jaz sat forward in her white wicker chair, her red curls framing her pale face so perfectly I felt I should take a picture. She could be any lovely co-ed on any Big Ten campus, except for the shock of white hair spiraling from her forehead around her right cheek to her chin.

Jaz: 'What do you want to know?'

Jen: 'Are you haunted by the people you've killed?' Her eyebrows shot up. I could see her thinking it was none of my damn business. But she wasn't ready to shut me off. Not yet.

Jaz: 'That would presuppose that I felt guilty about killing them, wouldn't it?' She thought a second. 'The ones that bother me are the ones that didn't go down as quick or painless as I would've liked. But I'm not haunted. My job is to take out bad guys. If you think that makes me a bad guy…' she shrugged, 'that's your problem.'

Jen: 'Actually, I don't. But I do think it makes you unique. How did you get into this line of work?'

Jaz: 'After the big blowout with my dad, I'll tell you about that later, the military was just out for me as a career path. But I still wanted to serve my country.' She paused. 'What, no smartass remark?'

Jen: 'No.'

Jaz: 'Sorry. Even now I get a little defensive. You can love a man or a kid or a piece of damn pie and nobody has a problem with you. But love your country and in some places you get booed right out of the joint.'

Jen: 'Go on.'

Jaz: 'Anyway, the C.I.A. recruited me straight out of college. After the Helsinger tragedy…' a pause here while Jaz looked out the window, and then down at the lovely gold and ruby ring on her left hand, 'I was a wreck. But I kept it all buttoned up good and tight. So after a couple months at a desk, I got an interview with Pete, and he hired me.' Her laugh managed to completely lack humor. 'The job killed me, and then it saved me. Ironic, huh?'

Jen: 'Why are you telling me all this?' She answered quickly. Too quickly.

Jaz: 'I guess I want to leave something behind me when I'm gone. A legacy.'

Jen: 'You could just as easily have said you wanted the historians to get their stories straight once this is all declassified.'

Jaz: 'Meaning?'

Jen: 'Either way, your story's bullshit.' She smiled, then. She appreciated honesty, I think because she so rarely saw it in her world.

Jaz: 'All you hear any time you turn on the TV is, the world is ending. Some scientist with too little data and too much funding is in the microphone of some anchor who's only interested in scaring the hell out of her audience because that's how you get ratings, man. Nobody seems to recall that people have been screaming about the world ending for the last two thousand years. They're scared out of their minds. They live in fear. Every move, every decision is based somewhat on how terrified they are at any given moment. People need to know there's hope. That people like me are out there fighting for them, making sure the world keeps turning, so they can occasionally let go of that fear and find a moment or two of happiness.' She sat back. Grimaced, like she'd eaten something sour. 'And if you ever tell anybody I said that I'm going to kick your ass.'

I liked her. God help me, I felt a real affection for this dangerous woman sitting in my old farmhouse while her vampire lover hovered somewhere among my gardens or my fields. Even though I knew the only reason she'd picked me was that she'd read one of my stories in a magazine and liked it, and she knew I'd keep her secrets until she told me it was time to tell. What a weird old world.

Jaz: 'Things are stirring. I won't be able to stick around much longer. After I'm gone you'll have plenty of time to write up the Tor-al-Degan story. In the meantime, let me tell you what happened next.'

Jen: 'You mean after you got out of the hospital?'

Jaz: 'Of course. God, they had me on the strongest drugs. Couldn't remember a thing that happened that first week. Took me awhile to heal, of course, but I want to tell you about the mission. It involved this Chinese vampire named Chien-Lung. Dragon fanatic. If he'd been a teenaged guy he'd have had dragon posters plastered all over his bedroom walls, tattoos, t-shirts, the works! Anyway, let me start at the beginning…'

introducing Jennifer's next novel