Please welcome the glorious Isabelle Drake to the StudioBlog. We’ve known Isabelle for quite a while now, so it’s wonderful to have her here for an interview. We can’t wait to dive in, so off we go!

Studioenp: Silence or noise when writing?

Isabelle Drake: Music or a movie. Music if I’m revising or editing; a movie if it’s a first draft. Is that odd to watch one story while writing another? Probably. Focusing on the movie helps me get into my subconscious. And it keeps me from self-editing while I’m getting the bones of the story down.


Studioenp: Whatever works for you! Sounds like it does, so that’s all that matters. What’s your latest release?

Isabelle Drake: My erotic horror, Servant of the Undead from Riverdale Ave Press.


Studioenp: Oooh, horror. Brilliant! How did the plot come about for it?

Isabelle Drake: It came from a writing prompt I was assigned while working on my MFA in Creative Writing. The assignment was to read a tabloid newspaper and pull an inspiration from one of the stories. I pulled from three. One about a blizzard, one about how to get ready for a zombie attack, and one about Barbie.


Studioenp: LOL! Quite a mix there. How long did it take you to write it?

Isabelle Drake: About a year. I wrote the first bit as a short story then, because I couldn’t stop thinking about Mattie, the main character, I wrote more.

I wrote a lot of it in a bowling alley while drinking Stroh’s beer.


Studioenp: Ah, the dreaded character thing where they still have something to say. That can be tortuous on the old brain. You did the right thing by giving in, otherwise, Mattie might still be yapping in your ear now.  What’s next on your writing list?

Isabelle Drake: A dystopian urban fantasy and a book to follow Servant of the Undead.


Studioenp: Oooh, dystopian. Great stuff. Plotter or panster?

Isabelle Drake: Both. I start a new story, write until I’m stranded, then plot.


Studioenp: Great! What is your go-to form of procrastination?

Isabelle Drake: Watching baseball, riding my bike, other work.


Studioenp: How many hours per week do you write?

Isabelle Drake: It varies. I teach college writing so during the semester its ten. In the summer, twenty-five. On breaks…maybe something in between.


Studioenp: Wow, a lot whichever number it is. Dedication or what! What’s one genre you’ve always wanted to write but haven’t—and will you ever write it?

Isabelle Drake: So far I’ve written: erotic romance, sexy romance, sweet romance, romantic suspense, Chick Lit, erotic horror, grit lit (yes, I just made that up—it’s like noir but without the smoke-filled bars or femme fatales/women who need saving), young adult romance, and young adult thriller. I’ve been writing for a while so I’ve had the opportunity to try multiple genres.

The sci-fi I’m working on will be the first sci-fi I’ve published so I’m excited about that.


Studioenp: It all sounds rather exciting. Lots of different genres there. What’s the best book you’ve written?

Isabelle Drake: Servant of the Undead. It combines the best of my commercial and literary skills. It’s not something I expected to write so when I did, I didn’t have any preconceived ideas of what it should be. So I let the story be what it already was.


Studioenp: Yes, that’s the best type of writing experience. Just let it go where it wants to, regardless of what’s trendy at the time. If it needs to come out, out it comes! What’s your favourite drink and why?

Isabelle Drake: Bourbon whiskey. Because each brand tastes a bit different. Because it’s a pretty colour. Because it smells good. Because it burns when you drink it.


Studioenp: LOL @ the burn. Well, I think your deserve a bourbon after all you’ve been up to lately. Thanks so much for being with us today, we really appreciate it.

Dear readers, please grab a drink (all right, we’ll allow you some bourbon if you so please. It’s in the cupboard there, at the back) and a slice of vanilla cake covered in oodles of creamy icing. Then feast your eyes on Isabelle’s excerpt.

About Isabelle Drake:

Isabelle Drake got her start writing confession stories for pulp magazines like True Confessions and True Love. Since publishing those first few stories she has written in multiple genres, earned and MFA in Creative Writing and became an English & Writing Professor.

When away from her keyboard, she watches films, especially classic noir, horror and romance, and reads (of course). An avid traveler, she'll go just about anywhere--at least once--to meet people and get ideas.





Blurb for Servant of the Undead:

The undead seek human captives for sex.

Boston is hostage to a blizzard & zombies roam the streets. Hayden Thomas, tabloid writer, discovers a zombie tribe that lives off constant sex with humans instead of devouring their flesh.

Mattie, one of the undead, finds Hayden and uses him for sex. Afterward, she acquires him to be sexual servant, planning to use him for sustenance and anything else she desires.

Excerpt for Servant of the Undead:

Hayden ground his teeth, trying to crush the sensation in his jaw, but couldn’t pull his gaze away from her glistening, exposed body. Tiny icicles clung to the tangles of her hair and flakes of snow dotted her thighs, bare above the edge of the tights. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his mind from acknowledging the blood flowing to his cock. “The guy I work for thinks they’re a great tie-in to the zombie stuff—my piece, the comic convention and the opening of Zombie Rites. And all that stuff about zombies—”

“Roaming the streets?” she cut in, grinning as she dropped her hand to smack snow off her limp skirt. Once she got the clumps off, she ran her fingers across the hem, inching it up her bare thighs.

Holy fuck, he was starting to remember what it felt like to be inside her. Driving into her tight core, pounding until he couldn’t think straight.

Hayden glanced at the apartment. Rachelle was not peering out the window, watching for him. Thank God. He shifted back. Most girls would probably get pretty pissed at a guy who took a video of himself grinding his dick into her, but this girl seemed anything but pissed. Hayden found himself watching the flicker of her stubby black fingernails as she inched up the hem of her skirt. He knew she wasn’t wearing panties. Five inches was all it would take and her bare pussy—

He took a sharp step forward, ready to shove her out of the way if necessary. She grabbed his arm and jerked him close enough for her nipples to brush against him.

“My girlfriend is waiting for me,” he said, pointing to the third story of the brownstone.

Mattie tossed back her mass of hair, exposing a small black device tucked into her ear. “I know. ‘Don’t make me wait.’ Isn’t that what she said?” A cruel smile tugged on the corner of her full mouth as she took in his expression. “You don’t understand yet, do you? Let me explain. You belong to me now. Until I’m done with you, that is.” She forced one of her legs between his thighs and lifted until her knee pressed into his solid cock. “I’m liking you more and more, so we may be together a while.”

Hayden jerked his arms free and reached for her pale throat. The skin beneath his palms was wet, slick, smooth. And cold, lifeless.

“Go up there and fuck your girlfriend,” she said, then shoved him away and moved toward the wall of the row house. She propped her booted foot on the cornerstone and lifted herself. She slithered up; her hands clutching the frost-covered bricks, then paused about ten feet from the ground. “And make it hot. Because I’ll be watching.” And with that, she crept up to the third-floor window and nestled under the eave.

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