What if you could prove that the greatest Gothic horror novel of all time was a true story?
Dexter and Morgan meet on their eighteenth birthday. The attraction is instant but confusing. As they deal with coming out, they are bound together by more than first love.
Both keep diaries, and each has the same goal – to prove that Stoker didn’t write ‘Dracula’. They are convinced that Harker, Van Helsing and the others existed and wrote the novel’s journals themselves. If Dex and Morgan can prove it, they will blow the lid off the vampire myth: Dracula existed.
As the two teenagers fall in love, so they fall into an adventure as thrilling as it is dangerous. They are being watched, and someone is willing to kill to stop them from making ‘The Stoker Connection.’
The Stoker Connection is an MM Romance treasure hunt thriller. It draws on the original text of ‘Dracula’, but it is not a story about vampires. It is a story of first love and the power of friendship. Sometimes funny, it is an intriguing and honest account compiled from Dex and Morgan’s original diaries.
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Interview with Jackson Marsh
Do you use a pseudonym? If so, why? If not, why not?
Yes, I do. Jackson Marsh is the pen name of James Collins, my real name.
As James, I have written three travelogues about moving to and living in Greece, three comedies, two horror novels (one of which was adapted for a film, and I also write mainstream screenplays), and a few thrillers. All bar one of the novels featured gay characters, though often subtly. After writing twelve James Collins novels, I realised that I wanted to write more gay literature and turned my attention to gay romance. I decided to use a pen name so as not to confuse my readers. You see, I also write a daily blog about living in Greece and MM Romance didn’t fit with that audience. Although most of that readership know I am also Jackson Marsh, my Greece blog isn’t the place to advertise my gay romance novels; hence the new name and website.
What was your first published work? Tell me a little about it.
The first publication that holds my name as a contributor is a short history of Hythe church on the south coast of England. I was 13 and helped with research through my English teacher, a local historian. Although that’s only a minor thing, the experience did get me hooked on research, and the teacher got me hooked on writing.
My first novel as James Collins was titled ‘Other People’s Dreams’ and was accepted for publication by Gay Men’s Press back in the 1990s. Sadly, the company folded or changed hands before publication and the book didn’t see the light of day. Not until self-publishing came along and I was able to release it. As this was a gay thriller, I have now given it to Jackson Marsh. It’s not my best, but it’s been popular.
My first Jackson Marsh novel was ‘The Mentor of Wildhill Farm.’ Again, not a typical MM Romance, more of a sexual fantasy as an older man, 42, mentor four youths 18 to 22, in the art of creative writing. His brief is also to allow them to explore their sexuality and so there’s a fair amount of erotica in it, and love develops between the older guy and a beautiful, lost youth of 22. This led me to write more ‘The Mentor of…’ novels which have become very popular. They are not an ongoing series, but they are linked by themes. Older/younger, May/September romances, with some sex, an adventure and usually a remote location. Barrenmoor Ridge has mountain climbing as a theme, Lonemarsh House has a musical theme, and Lostwood Hall has a coming out/escape from the baddies theme.
Do your books spring to life from a character first or an idea?
I usually start with a situation or a what if? In ‘The Stoker Connection’ I started with a what if: “What if you could prove that the greatest Gothic horror novel of all time was a true story?” Meaning: what if the novel ‘Dracula’ which is written in epistolary form (composed of diaries etc.) was compiled, by Bram Stoker, from genuine documents?
I then found my two characters who are the principal narrators, Dexter and Morgan, and added another what if? What if these two, who have never met, both share the belief that ‘Dracula’ was a true story and have researched it. Then, what if they met on their 18th birthday? What if they were born on the same day, and that day was the same date as Stoker’s birthday… And on it went.
In other novels, I have started with a situation: A young lad (19) is in trouble on a mountainside in winter and an older man (45), a recluse recovering from the death of his lover, is the only one who can rescue him. That’s how ‘The Mentor of Barrenmoor Ridge’ came about, and it grew from that initial situation.
What was the first book that made you cry?
‘Dracula’, when I was eleven. Morgan and Dexter in ‘The Stoker Connection’ also cried when they read it (there’s a bit of me in every character, I reckon). But I/we didn’t cry because of the vampire being killed, I cried because of Quincey Morris. He’s the brave American who dies after knifing Dracula through the heart. As evil dies, so must there be equality and a good guy dies too. I cried because if the sacrifice one friend made for another.
I also cried when I read ‘The Front Runner’ by Patricia Nell Warren, but for a reason I won’t give in case anyone hasn’t read it.
Would you visit the future or the past, and why?
Definitely visit the past. I would, if I could, return to the 1970s when I was at school, in particular, the years when I was 16 to 18. I have fond and difficult memories of those years, mainly to do with my sexuality and coming out. I’d nip back, tell myself to be bold and be prepared for trouble, but I’d also tell myself to tell my close friends what I really thought of them. We were boys, we didn’t talk about feelings, and yet all of us were going through the same growing pains. I have connected with some of them now, but time has moved on, and it doesn’t feel right to tell them how much I thought of them then, that I fancied some, was in love with one or two, wanted to be a better friend and so on. I’m a bit sentimental about those days and wish I could have been more confident.
What are you working on now, and when can we expect it?
At the moment I have a few ideas racing to become the first in the queue. Another follow-on novel to go with James Collins ‘The Saddling’ and ‘The Witchling’ (mystery thrillers with a gay central character), another ‘Miss P’ novel like my ‘Remotely’ – camp and humorous satire with a little bit of spellcasting, again as James Collins. And also another ‘The Mentor of…’ Jackson Marsh romance, or another treasure hunt mystery romance, like Jackson’s ‘The Blake Inheritance’ and ‘The Stoker Connection.’ It’s a race to the finish to see which idea comes first, but the sure thing is, something will, and soon. I just can’t stop writing. I love it.
CHAPTER V
Dexter Mitchel’s Diary
8 November (written on 9th). — Continued. And then there was his face, and his build, his clothes and something else that started to nag at my lust-muscles, whatever they are.
I knew I had to say something. He was looking expectantly at me, and to ignore him would be rude. I stuck out my hand on impulse.
‘Great questions,’ I said, my throat dry.
He took my hand, damp with sweat, and shook it.
‘What a let-down,’ he said, jerking his head towards the stage.
‘Hell, yes. Not what I wanted to hear.’
‘I know the play wasn’t about Arnold’s theory, but she must have looked into it.’
‘Apparently not.’
‘Phoney.’
‘Yeah.’
We were still shaking hands.
‘You’ve read the book?’ he asked.
‘Loads of times. You?’
He nodded. ‘You’re the only person I’ve met who’s even heard of it.’
‘Ditto. You believe it? His theory?’
Hands still being shaken, voices enthusiastic, my lust-muscles now in hopeful overdrive.
‘I do, but I have one of my own.’
I grinned. ‘Me too.’
I was aware that my palm was wet, and I glanced down. It was a bit embarrassing to still be holding hands now, so I opened my fingers to release him. He didn’t open his. OMG, was that a signal of some sort? He was gorgeous. A moment of social ‘What do I do?’ and I gripped his hand again, sending my own signal.
‘Sorry you didn’t get to ask anything,’ he said as if it was his fault.
‘I didn’t need to. You did it for me.’
He looked surprised and then impressed. We were the same height, more or less, so I was able to look right into his eyes. I saw something there. Something that I couldn’t quite grasp at first.
‘Would you…? No, forget it,’ he said, and let go of my hand.
‘What?’ I continued to grip his.
‘Just a thought.’ He pulled his hand away.
That was that, then.
‘Dexter, are you ready?’
Mum was at the door. I don’t know how long she’d been there, but she would have been there long enough to see us holding hands.
‘You have to go,’ he said, a matter of fact rather than a disappointed enquiry. ‘Yeah.’ He received a disappointed reply. ‘Birthday dinner with family.’ ‘Dexter?’ Mum insisted.
I told her I would be there in five minutes and she made it clear it had to be two, which made me feel ten years old, but at least she left us alone.
‘Look,’ he said, as soon as she had gone. ‘I’d like to talk more, about Arnold’s theory, and about my own. If you’re interested?’
‘Yes please,’ I blurted, sounding lame. I recovered. ‘Dexter Mitchel.’ Except I tapped my chest like I was Tarzan when I said it.
‘Me Morgan Davis.’ He did the same, with a Tarzan voice, and I knew then that we were going to hit it off.
The question was, to what extent?
Actually, the pressing question was when? I fumbled for my notebook and tore out a page. ‘My email,’ I said, trying to write neatly (a gift I have yet to receive). I must have looked like a flustered waiter who’s just been torn off a strip. I handed it to him so hurriedly I dropped my notebook.
‘My card,’ he said, coolly offering a white business card and taking my scrap of paper.
His name and email were all that were on it.
‘I’ll message you,’ I said, picking up my book and noticing mum back at the door.
Upright again, I added, ‘I’d invite you, but it’s on the uncle and aunt.’
‘You would invite me?’ he said, eyebrows raised. ‘How kind.’
Who says ‘How kind’ like that? Morgan, obviously. Perhaps he was much older than he looked.
‘Yes, I would, but I can’t. Let’s talk, yeah?’ I had to move away from him, I had to go. I was desperate to stay and learn more. I mean, who else out there has even read this book, let alone had a theory about it?
‘I’ll write,’ he said. ‘Email me.’
A sudden thought attacked out of left field, and I don’t know why I did it, but I took back the scrap of paper and wrote, ‘I’m gay,’ before handing it back and saying, ‘Don’t let that put you off. It’s not why I want to write to you.’
‘Dexter.’ The last warning from mum.
‘Tomorrow,’ I said, suddenly sick inside. What the fuck had I just done? And why? Too late to worry now, I’d done it. ‘I’ll email you tomorrow…’ I was heading for the gents so I could change, bright red and trembling.
‘I won’t, Dexter,’ he called after me. ‘And have a birthday drink for me too.’
It stopped me in my tracks. Sod the Adams family currently gathering at the Metropole. They could fester for another minute. I spun around to find him facing me. We were both grinning.
‘For you?’ Did he mean it was also his birthday?
‘Today.’ He made a small bow.
‘Mum?’ I pleaded towards the exit. She shook her head. Even randomly meeting a stranger who shares the same obscure interest and birthday was not enough to get him an invite.
‘How old?’ Morgan asked, and I didn’t find it intrusive.
‘Eighteen. You?’ It was easy to ask.
He did that friendly wink again. ‘Would you believe eighteen?’
No fucking way. ‘Today?’ I glared at mum again. We had to invite him.
No chance.
‘We would invite you,’ she told him. ‘But it’s not up to me.’
‘No, no, of course not, don’t worry,’ he said, all smiles and thanks. ‘I have a journal to write up in any case.’
‘Fuck off!’ That was out of my mouth before I knew it. ‘I do that too.’
We stared at each other until he said, ‘These coincidences are a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner.’ An altered quote from the end of chapter two (‘Dracula’ obviously). He nodded to me. ‘I’m away from my email until tomorrow night, but I’ll be waiting to hear from you.’
‘I’ll write,’ I stammered back.
He waved my piece of paper at me as he left. ‘I do hope so.’
Hi. Jackson was born in 2017 as the penname for me (James) so that I could publish my new gay fiction independently from my other writing work. I was born on the south coast of England during a blizzard, but now like to warm thing up with MM romance novels, gay mysteries and some occasional erotica. In 2007 I was awarded and EGPA award for my erotic short stories, and in 2018 I won a Best Screenplay award for one of my films. I am a diverse writer with thrillers, comedies and horror stories under my James belt, and now romance and mystery under my Jackson belt.
At the moment I am concentrating on two genres: older/younger MM romance, and youth mysteries with early 20s main characters and a love story included.
I live on a Greek island with my husband. My interests outside of writing and reading are outdoor pursuits, traveling, piano and genealogy. That’s probably why my books tend to involve characters who are musicians, writers, mystery-solvers and rock climbers; there’s a bit of me in every one.
Author Website: http://www.jacksonmarsh.com
Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100002130420544
Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jacksonmarshauthor/
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/46195347-james-collins
Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Jackson-Marsh/e/B077LDT5ZL