Hi there! I’m that slightly neurotic girl that sits in the back of most libraries and coffee shops clacking away on their laptop.
In all seriousness, I’m Christina Quinn, an author who loves cats, classic literature, Vampires, and ballet. If you question my love of cats, I have a phone full of videos and a house full of cats that begs to differ. I’m at that point where I kind of have to hope my Fiance never leaves because I’m that close to crazy cat lady!
Now that I’ve rambled about my love of cats, I should also warn you that I love and I do mean love to write. It’s something I do every day. I put my headphones in and zone out the rest of the world while I create a new one in which there are sexy vampires both sweet and deadly (Byron is a work of art), and on occasion crazy, gun-toting women in serious need of therapy (Damn it, Rose! Stop stabbing your friends!).
The book I’m featuring is A Crimson Kiss, it’s the first in my Little Red Book Series. The series revolves around the relationship of Sadie and Byron. In this book we see their origin story so to speak, it’s a tale about two people who fall in love, and one has a secret they’re trying to keep from the other to protect them. It’s kind of like a sweet tart, on one side you have this very sweet very tender romance, but there’s this little, sour thread of unease that threatens their happiness.
Let’s Get To Know Christina Quinn
Q: What are the top five books that have influenced your career?
A: I don’t know if I can name five books that have influenced me specifically. But if series count I’d have to say Anne Rice’s Interview with a Vampire and Sleeping Beauty series, Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake Series, Andrzej Sapkowski’s Witcher series and Jane Austin’s Sense and Sensibility. Didn’t see that last one coming did you?
Q: What’s the funniest thing a reader has ever said/emailed to you?
A: I once received a view for my debut that called it worse than Fifty Shades of Grey, they didn’t mean it to be funny but I sure found it hilarious.
Q: If you could go back in time before you published your first book, what advice would you give yourself about publishing?
A: Spend more time writing, and do more research on marketing–I still suck at marketing.
Q: What fictional character would you punch if the face if you thought you could get away with it without going to jail?
A: I’d punch Anita Blake in the face and then I’d scream “It’s okay to have group sex and like it! It’s okay!”
Q: Pick a super-power and tell us what you’d do with it.
A: I’d want mind-control, so I could make people buy my books. I guess I could make people just give me money if I had mind-control but I like writing too much.
Q: What’s your favorite AND least favorite thing about being a writer/author?
A: My favorite thing is getting to share the stories I create with the world, my least favorite thing is marketing. I’m the least social person on the planet so having to tweet, blog and go on facebook is tantamount to pulling teeth.
About A Kiss of Crimson by Christina Quinn
Sadie never likes the right guy at the right time, but all that changes when she meets the handsome and mysterious Byron. At first everything goes as perfect as possible, that is until Byron reveals he’s been keeping a dark secret which colors their whole relationship a shade deadlier. He’s a vampire.
Dating a vampire is dangerous, Sadie remembers the horror stories from high school health class well enough. Byron—being the perfect gentleman that he is—refuses to take things further until she understands what she’s getting herself into. In the end, it’s up to Sadie if she’ll stay with the man of her dreams, or run in fear from his crimson kiss.
“I…I’m sorry for the whole vomiting thing,” I said trying to play cool—and failing miserably might I add.
“It’s okay. Care to show me around?”
“O-oh, of course.” My blush deepened.
He probably thinks I’m a creeper now. This is undoubtedly a coincidence that my romance-starved brain is determined to turn into something it’s not.
“I love art museums.” He sighed.
“Mhm. Too many forget the merits of knowing our culture’s roots. It’s somewhat sad that we’ve turned our backs on these art styles.”
“That’s not entirely true. I always found the photorealist paintings of Chuck Close to come very close to the works of Da Vinci and Holbein.”
“But what about the works of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood?”
“Those are my favorite. But I’m sure you could have guessed that given the print of Waterhouse’s Lady of Shalott I have over my bed.”
“I had an inkling.” He chuckled. “Why the Lady of Shalott? The story’s such a sad one.”
“I know. It’s something that has always resonated with me I guess.”
“Oh? Are you a fatalist then?”
“I’m not sure about that.” I bit my bottom lip.
“I feel a little like her. I guess most people in college are in some. Not in the whole suicidal way, but people don’t expect us to have mature emotions. We’re supposed to be absorbing everything we see—kind of how the Lady of Shalott records the world outside of her window—but we’re not really expected to act on our more… grown up emotions such as lust. Our job in college is to learn and hers is to record. Love and longing have the ability to ruin that entirely. Am I making any sense?”
“You’re making sense. So are you her before or after seeing Launcelot?”
“I’m not sure.” I pursed my lips. “Before probably, knowing me. I’m not Jen—my friend from last night. She falls in love so easily. I haven’t gotten to really experience that. But I’d like to.” I groaned and covered my face. “I have no clue why I just told you that.”
“I did ask. Don’t worry, you’re not going to scare me away. The L-word doesn’t traumatize me.” He glanced down at me, and I caught for the first time the thin layer of blueish white that covered his skin.
I pushed the thought away, and we continued through the exhibit.
“Are you allowed to go to the Victorian section?” He asked looking at the empty room filled with paintings, sculptures and glass cases of armor.
“No, I have to stay here in case someone else shows up.”
“What a pity.” He smirked his gaze swept over the room again, eyes falling on a piece of armor. “Tell me about this piece?”
I scrambled to match his long strides.
“It’s from the English Renaissance, we don’t have the name of the person it was made for, but it is jousting armor. You can tell by the shield built into the arm guard. However, the heraldry has been chipped off entirely and on purpose. The rest of the armor is in pristine condition, except for the heraldic symbols which have all been defaced. It was made for a man roughly your height, and of similar built. It was made for a high ranking noble the level of detail in the filigree around every edge gives it away. Aside from the paintings, this is one of my favorite pieces.”
“Sometimes I wonder what kind of man wore the armor. He was brave, the dead giveaway is the visor.”
“Mhm, you can see where it’s been mended just above the temple. He was fearless, that blow could have killed him. Given that it was repaired it clearly didn’t, but… I dunno there’s something about knowing someone could literally stare down death to accomplish a task is very sexy.” I giggled and blushed. “That’s not what I usually tell people of course; normally I say it’s the ornate craftsmanship.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” He winked.
My favorite quote from A Kiss of Crimson is:
“Remember me? I’m that girl who you offered protection to. You know, the one you’re talking over like a royal bag of dicks?”