Kiersten White

In this epic and seductive gothic fantasy, a vampire escapes the thrall of Dracula and embarks on her own search for self-discovery and true love, from the #1 New York Times bestselling author of Hide. Her name was written in the pages of someone else's story: Lucy Westenra was one of Dracula's first victims. But her death was only the beginning. Lucy rose from the grave a vampire, and has spent her immortal life trying to escape from Dracula's clutches--and trying to discover who she really is and what she truly wants. Her undead life takes an unexpected turn when, in twenty-first-century London, she meets another woman who is also yearning to break free from her past. Iris’s family has built a health empire based on a sinister secret, and they’ll do anything to stay in power. Lucy has long believed she would never love again. But she finds herself compelled by the charming Iris, while Iris is mesmerized by the confident and glamorous Lucy. But their intense connection and blossoming love is threatened by forces from without. Iris's mother won't let go of her without a fight, and Lucy's past still has fangs: Dracula is on the prowl again. Lucy Westenra has been a tragically murdered teen, a lonesome adventurer, and a fearsome hunter, but happiness always eluded her. Can she find the strength to destroy Dracula once and for all, or will her heart once again be her undoing?

Lucy Undying: A Dracula Novel

Jenell Pizarro

It’s not endings that give stories meaning. It’s the forever-full-of-nows. Every step, every choice, every feeling: That’s what holds meaning. For a story, for a life. I’m happy to not be at the end just yet. I’ll take an eternity more of nows.

Loving someone is always giving them the power to destroy you. But I trust both of us enough to know it’s worth it.

I wait, content to sit here forever with my love in my arms.

And don’t you dare say that none of it matters if I die. It matters. I promise. We have right now, and I love you right now. And my now is an eternity.

I’m releasing the dreams that trapped me as a girl. The ones that told me if I waited just a little longer, if I performed just a little better, if I pretended just a little more, I could be loved by the people who never saw me. Who never wanted to. They don’t matter anymore. They have no power over me.

That’s how I free myself. That’s how I keep moving and living: Love. Love for myself, and love for the person who showed me how to love myself through how fiercely she loves me.

“Oh dear, you’re a very dull boy. I see why they make you stand at the door.”

The Doctor, the Queen, and the Lover each meet my gaze. Not his. My smile grows, because none of us are his victims. Not anymore. The suffering and the experiences and the growth we’ve gone through since? We’re mausoleums, holding the girls we were with tenderness, and love, and strength. His violence turned us into our own unhallowed ground, our own safe spaces to rest, carried with us wherever we go. And he’s no longer welcome.

Her arms are back around me. I press my face against her neck. I want to stay here, I want to stay here, I want to stay here. Stay hidden in this darkness, alone with her.

Forever yours, because as you said, forever is composed of nows. I’m yours now, I’ve been yours since that very first now, and that’s an infinite collection of nows you can hold on to. Time isn’t real, but moments are. Don’t forget. If my heart beat, it would beat your name.

You’re not innocent, and I’m sorry for everything that hurt you, but I’m so glad you’ve walked in enough darkness that your eyes adjusted. That you could see the subtle creeping moonlight, frozen under your gaze. That you could pin it in place long enough to give it form once more

But you do walk in beauty. You’re all that’s best of dark and bright. The rest of the poem goes on to glorify innocence, but we both know innocence is wielded as a weapon against young women. A whip to wound us, ties to bind us. A commodity to be traded and sold. By the time we know what innocence truly is, it’s been taken from us and we’re shamed for its absence.

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes.

Being apart from you feels like going too long without rest— the borders of my self feel less solid. You make me feel real.

Not “I’m showing up with Dracula’s head as my new clutch” news, because it would be difficult to match to a dress and I’m still vain enough to be bothered by that

First things first, though, we start this girls’ trip the proper way: arson and then a visit to my therapist.”

Besides, isn’t loving someone always giving them the power to destroy you?

It breaks something inside me, seeing a perfect reflection of what it looks like to kill your heart before someone can do it for you.

Evil is banal, evil is boring, evil is predictable, and evil is everywhere.

Poetry makes the world bigger and smaller at the same time. Captures the unknowable and holds it in a form I can understand, even if it’s only for a few precious seconds. Poetry helped me escape when I needed it most, and it still makes me feel less insane.”

poetry is just music someone whispers straight to your soul.

So, so, SO frustrating to read. An absolute mess and overly long for what it is.

The novel reads almost like Kiersten White had two, maybe three, ideas for Dracula retellings / spin-offs centering Lucy Westenra and either did not know how to approach them, or her editor / agent / she herself thought the ideas were too similar in themes to allow her to publish them as separate works. Instead of evaluating each of those ideas and making some (I am sure) difficult decisions with which ones to part, all of them have been poured into a single novel as parallel narratives that eventually somewhat clumsily join together.

There is incredible dissonance between each of those narratives and it is not just because Lucy (as a vampire), Lucy (as human, in her diary) and Iris (annoying on purpose) are different people at different points in time and their lives (or non-lives). They are simply telling three different stories, and the way they were presented within this novel, I really could not care for at least one of them (the modern-day section and Iris' narration). That is a solid half of the book.

The worst part? I feel like I have picked up each of those stories separately - a story about Lucy Westenra who turns into a vampire and then spends several decades roaming the Earth, a mystery that an ex-pat unravels about a girl tricked into her death by the people around her, a messy literary novel about a higheress who discovers her family business' dark secret.

When summarising the three clearly defined narratives within the novel, I can somewhat see why White felt they could be combined. But I also see why maybe only one of them needed to be related to the Dracula. I loved White's Author's Note and am completely sympathetic and on board with what she wanted to tell about lesbianism and a heteronormative society - I think this is very cool. But she could have done so much more with those themes within the novel itself which, at the end of the day, reads like an AI-cover gas station book.

So, so, SO frustrating to read. An absolute mess and overly long for what it is.

The novel reads almost like Kiersten White had two, maybe three, ideas for Dracula retellings / spin-offs centering Lucy Westenra and either did not know how to approach them, or her editor / agent / she herself thought the ideas were too similar in themes to allow her to publish them as separate works. Instead of evaluating each of those ideas and making some (I am sure) difficult decisions with which ones to part, all of them have been poured into a single novel as parallel narratives that eventually somewhat clumsily join together.

There is incredible dissonance between each of those narratives and it is not just because Lucy (as a vampire), Lucy (as human, in her diary) and Iris (annoying on purpose) are different people at different points in time and their lives (or non-lives). They are simply telling three different stories, and the way they were presented within this novel, I really could not care for at least one of them (the modern-day section and Iris' narration). That is a solid half of the book.

The worst part? I feel like I have picked up each of those stories separately - a story about Lucy Westenra who turns into a vampire and then spends several decades roaming the Earth, a mystery that an ex-pat unravels about a girl tricked into her death by the people around her, a messy literary novel about a higheress who discovers her family business' dark secret.

When summarising the three clearly defined narratives within the novel, I can somewhat see why White felt they could be combined. But I also see why maybe only one of them needed to be related to the Dracula. I loved White's Author's Note and am completely sympathetic and on board with what she wanted to tell about lesbianism and a heteronormative society - I think this is very cool. But she could have done so much more with those themes within the novel itself which, at the end of the day, reads like an AI-cover gas station book.

I wanted so badly to like this book. I adore Dracula and was very excited to see a sapphic Lucy retelling. But the way the author treated the original cast, especially Mina, was so bizarrely OOC that it felt like wish fulfillment fanfic that somehow got published. I tried my best to force myself to read it, but I couldn’t. 

Lucy Undying: A Dracula Novel

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