We had only been there about five minutes when one of the clerks came up to me and said, “You write vampire novels, don’t you?” I was dumbfounded and said, “Yes, but how do you know that?” This was perhaps best illustrated a few years ago when my husband and I went to his favorite clothing store. She mostly managed to contain herself-as long as I wasn’t within earshot. This embarrassed me, of course, so I told her to stop. I’m too proud of you!” Fast forward a couple decades to my mother being unable to stop herself from blurting out “My daughter’s a bestselling author!” to everyone she met.

When I confronted my mother, she said, “But, honey, I couldn’t keep those to myself. Then, at the next family gathering, every one of my relatives told me how much they’d liked them. I showed her my poems, but because I was shy, I also asked her not to share them with anyone.

In all seriousness, she was my first fan back when I started writing poetry at age eleven. For starters, she had a wicked sense of humor, so I can almost hear her saying, “Oh, now that I’m dead, you’re finally going to say nice things about me to your readers?” Well, better late than never, Mom! *wink* But, since I warned you that I was going to be long-winded and personal, I’m going to get back to talking about my mother. I’d also be remiss if I didn’t thank my longtime editor, Erika Tsang, and my agent, Nancy Yost, for all their hard work. I also need to thank my husband for his incredible support, not to mention my family and friends. The last line from the poem “Footprints” says it perfectly: “During your time of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.” Thank you, Jesus, for all the times you carried me, both this year and every year before it. However, I did not go through all this alone. More than once, I thought the title was an apt description for my emotional state. The release of Into the Fire was therefore delayed while I put myself back together enough to write. If that wasn’t enough, even my dog required multiple surgeries. Right as I was coming to terms with the depth of my grief and the never-before-experienced writer’s block that came along with it, my father had four near-death illnesses within three months. I’ve since learned that some things can never be braced for. (I’ve done that for the past fourteen books, and I’m not going to stop now, especially considering this past year.) My mother died over New Year’s, and since she hadn’t been well for a while, I thought I had been “braced” for her death. However, what I’m not going to change is my thanking God first. I’m going to break with the normal format by being long-winded and personal on this Acknowledgments, so feel free to skip. (excuse me, VLAD) get a happily-ever-after.

Into the fire by jeaniene frost