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Narrated by Devon Sorvari
Ellen SchreiberUnabridged — 4 hours, 31 minutes
Narrated by Devon Sorvari
Ellen SchreiberUnabridged — 4 hours, 31 minutes
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In her small town, dubbed ""Dullsville,"" sixteen-year-old Raven -- a vampire-crazed goth-girl -- is an outcast. But not for long...
The intriguing and rumored-to-be haunted mansion on top of Benson Hill has stood vacant and boarded-up for years. That is, until its mysteriously strange new occupants move in. Who are these creepy people -- especially the handsome, dark, and elusive Alexander Sterling? Or rather, what are they? Could the town prattle actually ring true? Are they vampires? Raven, who secretly covets a vampire kiss, both at the risk of her own mortality and Alexander's loving trust, is dying to uncover the truth.
Ellen Schreiber's spooky and stirring romance tells the story of two outsiders who fall in love in a town where conformity reigns, and ends with a shocking surprise.
"Readers don't have to share goth girl Raven's passion for vampire lore to appreciate her misadventures in Dullsville," according to PW. "The girl's ill-fated flirtation will bring more laughs than heartache." Ages 12-up. (Aug.) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Gr 7 Up-Raven, 16, doesn't fit in at school or home. This goth-girl is obsessed with vampires and when a new family moves into the old town mansion, she is convinced that the son, Alexander, is a vampire. The story swirls around and through sibling rivalry, peer relationships, friendships, and love. Raven is a feisty protagonist with a quick wit and a real sense of self. She defends herself and her friends, often besting her peers with humor and a quick tongue. As her connection with Alexander deepens, she comes to understand her family better. It is through his shadowy character that readers are kept off balance. Schreiber weaves a tale that is more about acceptance and friendship than about vampire behavior and culture, and sustains a tone that draws readers to the characters rather than to horrific plot developments that would keep them reading. There is far less intensity than in Annette Curtis Klause's Silver Kiss (Laurel-Leaf, 1992) and less moodiness than that found in Amelia Atwater-Rhodes's Midnight Predator (2002) and Shattered Mirror (2001, both Delacorte). While the ending isn't tied up in a neat and pretty bow, it fits the style and tone. All in all, a good read for those who want a vampire love story without the gore.-Molly S. Kinney, Peach Public Libraries, Fort Valley, GA Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.
An awkwardly endearing tale of teen angst and Goth romance. Vampire-loving Raven is a misfit in the town she calls "Dullsville." Her black lipstick, combat boots, and sneering dislike of her classmates leave her nearly friendless. Dullsville has only one exciting feature: the Mansion, abandoned years before. Now the owners have returned, and Raven has never been more excited. A creepy butler, a mysterious Romanian couple nobody sees, and the gorgeous teenaged son, Alexander, populate the spooky mansion of her childhood vampire dreams. Alexander is perfect-a gothic prince, a dark and broody knight of night, maybe even a vampire! Alexander seems equally intrigued by Raven, who knows it must be love. In a sweetly silly climax, troubles in Raven's relationship with Alexander allow the townspeople of Dullsville to show themselves as fun and decent people despite their suburban sameness. Cheesily written, but cute. (Fiction. 10-14)
| BN ID: | 2940173728913 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | HarperCollins |
| Publication date: | 03/23/2010 |
| Series: | Vampire Kisses Series |
| Edition description: | Unabridged |
| Sales rank: | 476,978 |
| Age Range: | 10 - 13 Years |
Vampire Kisses
It first happened when I was five.
I had just finished coloring in My Kindergarten Book. It was filled with Picasso-like drawings of my mom and dad, an Elmer's-glued, tissue-papered collage, and the answers to questions (favorite color, pets, best friend, etc.) written down by our hundred-year-old teacher, Mrs. Peevish.
My classmates and I were sitting in a semicircle on the floor in the reading area. "Bradley, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Mrs. Peevish asked after all the other questions had been answered.
"A fire fighter!" he shouted.
"Cindi?"
"Uh . . . a nurse," Cindi Warren whispered meekly.
Mrs. Peevish went through the rest of the class. Police officers. Astronauts. Football players. Finally it was my turn.
"Raven, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Mrs. Peevish asked, her green eyes staring through me.
I said nothing.
"An actress?"
I shook my head.
"A doctor?"
"Nuh, uh," I said.
"A flight attendant?"
"Yuck!" I replied.
"Then what?" she asked, annoyed.
I thought for a moment. "I want to be . . . "
"Yes?"
"I want to be . . . a vampire!" I shouted, to the shock and amazement of Mrs. Peevish and my classmates. For a moment I thought she started to laugh; maybe she really did. The children sitting next to me inched away.
I spent most of my childhood watching others inch away.
I was conceived on my dad's water bed -- or on the rooftop of my mom's college dorm under twinkling stars -- depending on which one of my parents is telling the story. They were soul mates that couldn't part with the seventies: true love mixed with drugs, some raspberry incense, and the music of the Grateful Dead. A beaded-jeweled, halter-topped, cutoff blue-jeaned, barefooted girl, intertwined with a long-haired, unshaven, Elton John–spectacled, suntanned, leather-vested, bell-bottomed-and-sandaled guy. I think they're lucky I wasn't more eccentric. I could have wanted to be a beaded-haired hippie werewolf! But somehow I became obsessed with vampires.
Sarah and Paul Madison became more responsible after my entrance into this world -- or I'll rephrase it and say my parents were "less glassy eyed." They sold the Volkswagen flower power van that they were living in and actually started renting property. Our hippie apartment was decorated with 3-D glow-in-the-dark flower posters and orange tubes with a Play-Doh substance that moved on its own -- lava lamps -- that you could stare at forever. It was the best time ever. The three of us laughed and played Chutes and Ladders, and squeezed Twinkies between our teeth. We stayed up late, watching Dracula movies, Dark Shadows with the infamous Barnabus Collins, and Batman on a black-and-white TV we'd received when we opened a bank account. I felt secure under the blanket of midnight, rubbing Mom's growing belly, which made noises like the orange lava lamps. I figured she was going to give birth to more moving Play-Doh.
Everything changed when she gave birth to the playdough -- only it wasn't Play-Doh. She gave birth to Nerd Boy! How could she? How could she destroy all the Twinkie nights? Now she went to bed early, and that creation that my parents called "Billy" cried and fussed all night. I was suddenly alone. It was Dracula -- the Dracula on TV -- that kept me company while Mom slept, Nerd Boy wailed, and Dad changed smelly diapers in the darkness.
And if that wasn't bad enough, suddenly they sent me to a place that wasn't my apartment, that didn't have wild 3-D flower posters on the walls, but boring collages of kids' handprints. Who decorates around here? I wondered. It was overcrowded with Sears catalog girls in frilly dresses and Sears catalog boys in tapered pants and perfectly combed hair. Mom and Dad called it "kindergarten."
"They'll be your friends," my mom reassured me, as I clung to her side for dear life. She waved good-bye and blew me kisses as I stood alone beside the matronly Mrs. Peevish, which was as alone as one can get. I watched my mom walk away with Nerd Boy on her hip as she took him back to the place filled with glow-in-the-dark posters, monster movies, and Twinkies.
Somehow I made it through the day. Cutting and gluing black paper on black paper, finger painting Barbie's lips black, and telling the assisant teacher ghost stories, while the Sears catalog kids ran around like they were all cousins at an all-American family picnic. I was even happy to see Nerd Boy when Mom finally came to pick me up.
That night she found me with my lips pressed against the TV screen, trying to kiss Christopher Lee in Horror of Dracula.
"Raven! What are you doing up so late? You have school tomorrow!"
"What?" I said. The Hostess cherry pie that I had been eating fell to the floor, and my heart fell with it.
"But I thought it was just the one time?" I said, panicked.
"Sweet Raven. You have to go every day!"
Every day? The words echoed inside my head. It was a life sentence!
That night Nerd Boy couldn't hope to compete with my dramatic wailing and crying. As I lay alone in my bed, I prayed for eternal darkness and a sun that never rose.
Unfortunately the next day I awoke to a blinding light, and a monster headache.
I longed to be around at least one person that I could connect with. But I couldn't find any, at home or school. At home the lava lamps were replaced with Tiffany-style floor lamps, the glow-in-the-dark posters were covered with Laura Ashley wallpaper, and our grainy black-and-white TV was upgraded to a twenty-five-inch color model.
Vampire Kisses. Copyright © by Ellen Schreiber. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
