AnnouncementBefore I wrap this up, I want to point out that this is the first draft of the book -- and I'm not happy with it. There's a lot of stuff I want to go back and redo. I think the earlier chapters, especially, have Pantessa more forgiving than she should be of Caleb. (I was too busy shoehorning in the touch-starved metaphor to realize it didn't make sense for her character, which was not yet fully formed.)
I also want to put in some more hints earlier, about Pantessa's avian proclivities. Maybe give her "raven-bck hair." Have a dream sequence about flying or something like that -- maybe one where she's a bird of prey and Vincent is a field mouse.
I am going to try something different when it comes to this novel, though. Trad pub or self pub, I'm not sure it's a good idea to leave a version of the novel up for free if I'm trying to get people to pay for it. So eventually, not right away, this will probably be taken down.
But if you've read along with me so far, if you've given me hints or corrections, or even just cheered me on and told me how much you liked it... I 100% absolutely positively want to make sure you have a free version of this book. Email [email protected] with something like "Don't forget to send me STOV" and I will make sure to email you an EPUB version of the 1st edition, and when it's ready, the 2nd edition.
And now. The *real* finale.
There is a monster at the end of this book.
But first, let me expin how we got here, and what I mean.
This is Kerry Ann, the author of the book, speaking directly to you, the reader.
I hope you liked this book. I hope you found it exciting, thought provoking. I hope you cheered, maybe cried a little.
Most importantly, I hoped you ughed.
Because in order to ugh, you needed to empathize with the characters. And that's really important.
You see, this is my second book since I started writing.
Long story short, I didn't figure out that I was a trans woman until three years ago, at the age of 43. I'm 46 now, and I've only been writing for the past year or two.
Because I discovered transgender literature. Because I discovered characters that I could empathize with. Whose struggles mirrored my own. I didn't think I could write retable characters because until I admitted to myself who I was, and started reading about other people's stories, did I realize that, yes, I could write retable characters.
But getting people to read retable characters. That's a bit different.
I set myself a challenge when I wrote this book. This book (with the exception of a few throwaway gags) doesn't mention politics. It has no transgender characters -- all the characters are cisgender. Plenty of gay and bisexual characters, sure, but gayness has been part of the vampire story genre since Carmil in 1872 (predating Dracu by 25 years).
And yet, "This Book Has A Shit-Ton Of Vampires In It" is, first and foremost, a commentary on transgender politics in the United States in 2025.
Surprise!
Yeah, yeah, I know. I can hear you saying: "Wait, I thought this was just some fun vampire book! Dougs Adams meets Anne Rice with a little 'Twilight' and 'Buffy' thrown in! I wasn't looking for some stupid book about how much trans people are repressed and live horrible lives, but they're really really good and full of joy despite that and bh-bh-bh! I wanted to see hot gay and lesbian vampires getting it on with homoerotic blood-drinking subtext!"
Don't worry about it. If you read this book and enjoyed it, you're not suddenly going to start questioning your gender or changing your pronouns.
I just wanted to write a book about the challenges trans people face, and the community we build to face those challenges, in a way that might reach more people than the small audience that typically would read transgender literature.
So I took a tip from anyone who has ever owned a pet.
I wrapped my bitter pill in a lot of cheese.
Simplest way to do that: simply change it up so that instead of "transgender" struggles, I was writing about "transylvanian" ones.
And I chose this vampire noir novel format because, well, the genre is popur. It sells. It's a way to get my message into a rger, wider audience.
In fact, now's a good spot to expin the title, and the very concept of the book.
When I was writing "We Interrupt This Transition," I was attending writers' group meetings at Mysterious Gaxy, an independent bookstore in San Diego. And I looked around, and saw that by far the most popur genre was horror.
And within horror, the most popur subgenre... was vampires.
Vampire horror that honestly, kind of blended together. All the covers were some variation of bck background, white text, red highlight. Maybe an apple, or a chess piece, or a pair of lips.
I thought to myself: "Damn. This bookstore has a shit-ton of vampire books. What if I took all those vampires and crammed them into one story? That book would have a shit-ton of vampires in it."
---
So, I think now that I've expined what my intention is with this book, if you didn't catch it the first time, here are some things you might want to look out for on a re-read.
Vampires, by their very nature, have transitioned. Their bodies have changed. Many adopted new identities. Nobody chooses to be a vampire, but for the ones in this book, going back to being human isn’t an option they want. In fact, the scenes where I describe when Caleb is affected by the Eye of Strigoi, and is forced to be more human, were based on the dysphoria I feel when I am forced to present as the wrong gender.
In contrast, when Caleb feels his vampire senses and strength returning to him, he feels a wonderful sense of "vampiric euphoria." This feeling of "vampiric euphoria" mirrors gender euphoria—the relief and joy of being in a body that finally feels right. By the end, even Pantessa learns to love hunting her prey (both human and gamefowl) and exults in the sensation that her transformation into a hawk seems so natural and freeing.
There are people who wish to do trans people harm, and so we have to be hyper aware and capable. Scott lures Caleb into a trap after 'clocking' him as a vampire-- I used that term deliberately. Caleb, in the moment, bmes himself for not recognizing the threat sooner. But the real bme isn’t his. It’s Scott’s, for being the threat in the first pce.
"Scott, despite starting out as an antagonist, isn't quite a TERF. He's more of what I’d call a 'trans-unaware mainstream feminist' (TUMF) -- someone who doesn’t act out of hatred, but fear and ignorance. What eventually gets him to stop seeing vampires as an enemy, and start seeing them as people is spending time with them. Understanding them more. Most importantly, empathizing with them. That’s why Scott ends up a hero and an ally: he’s willing to change his mind. TERFs, on the other hand, refuse to.
It's hinted at and mentioned in a couple of pces, but suicide and mental health are big problems for the trans community. From the very beginning, Caleb would love to get a therapist, but it is difficult to find one that "works nights."
Yes, it's a joke -- but like many jokes, it's rooted in truth. Trans people often struggle to find therapists who actually understand us, who see our issues as real rather than something to be 'fixed.' Caleb’s struggle to find a therapist who 'works nights' mirrors the way so many trans people struggle to find one who actually gets them.
I myself had an otherwise very good therapist in youth, who failed to recognize the signs of gender dysphoria, even when I expressly said that "I often wonder what it would be like to be a girl."
Stelian also mentions that a lot of vampires don't make it and end up committing suicide. Caleb loves being a vampire. He'd never go back. But Stelian mentions that not all vampires feel that way. Some see it as a curse rather than a transformation, and when they realize they can never be human again, they despair. Stelian alludes to this -- many vampires don't make it. Scott would certainly be one of them. That’s why 'I'll turn him' was a darker threat from Renfield than 'I'll kill him.' Death was preferable to him than an existence he couldn't accept.
Perhaps the most obvious: Vampires in this book choose "dead names" that reflect who they truly are. "Caleb Tryst" vs. "Calvin Trent", "Angelina" vs. "Ange", "Stelian" vs. "Steven", "Pantessa" vs. "Pants/Patricia". They choose these names for many of the same reasons trans people change their own -- it fits their life better. It matches their identity. It helps to draw a line between the form of the person you were and the form you want to be. "Live-naming" a vampire is an act of dismissal. It says you don’t respect their choices, don’t acknowledge their struggles, and -- most of all -- don’t accept their right to define their own identity.
The bureaucratic struggles faced by vampires in this book mirror the humiliating hoops trans people must jump through in a world built to be hostile, especially in medical settings. The best metaphor is all the crazy antics that the V-team had to pull just to get Angie into a poker tournament, while Diane or Scott could just walk up to the counter.
For trans people we are often gatekept and even denied medical care that we desperately need because of arbitrary rules. For example, in California -- one of the more progressive states when it comes to trans care --two psychological professionals must sign off on gender-affirming care. Why? To talk people out of it or find any excuse to deny it.
Note that this is only the case when referring to trans gender affirming care. It is incredibly easy to get gender-affirming care -- estrogen patches, hair impnts, breast augmentation, breast reduction, pstic surgery... so long as the gender-affirming care matches the gender you were assigned at birth.
As London-based stand-up comedian and trans man Dian Cathal put it: "I'm not saying I want breast cancer. I don’t. But if I got breast cancer, I could get rid of these things by next week. Instead, I have to wait four years."
Nor is it limited to medicine. Federally, I can’t get my passport changed. Even in trans-friendly countries, I’ll have to fill out the paperwork as "Brian Boyko" instead of "Kerry Ann Boyko" because of it.
I cannot tell you how many times I've been told to try dating apps, only to find they don’t know what to do with someone like me. There's no option to filter by who would be okay dating a trans woman. They only offer "straight," "gay," "lesbian," and "bisexual."
Every job application asks me if I am "male," "female," or "decline to identify." I have taken to applying to jobs as "Kerry Boyko" instead of "Kerry Ann Boyko" and chosen that third option, because I would rather people assume I am male during the interview process than have to spend 15 minutes of a 30 minute interview expining my life story and pronouns. And while most people and corporate cultures appear fine with trans people, it only takes one transphobe in the hiring process to derail your chances.
(Honestly, it might be easier to get stuff done if I only had to avoid sunlight.)
There's resentment -- specifically Caleb's resentment of Stelian and the glittergang -- between vampires who can't go into the sunlight at all and those who can, but only with a lot of effort. This isn’t just a funny Twilight reference; the existence of "the sparklers" mirrors the jealousy some trans people feel toward those who can pass as their preferred gender identity when they cannot. Part of Caleb’s character arc is realizing that instead of wallowing in misery because he can’t go out in the sun, he should be happy for Stelian because he can.
Vampires in my book are a marginalized community, forced to make do with less. Without the support that society offers humans, they struggle to find jobs, housing, or basic resources.
Dracu giving Caleb and his grandchilder an allowance solves many of their problems -- it’s wish fulfillment, yes, but also an illustration of how much easier life would be for trans people if we ever actually got that kind of support from those in power.
As I said, that part is pure fantasy. A dream, really.
Perhaps most importantly -- and a point I hope the book hammered home until it was damn obvious -- vampires, like trans people, only survive because of community and working together. They form found families, often when they can no longer remain in contact with their biological families. (I’m estranged from my parents myself. It was my choice, but a necessary one.) And through these communities and found families, they share in-jokes, tender moments, and experience pain, joy, and grief in great measure.
At the start of the story, Caleb has become cold and cynical -- distant and mean. He has lost the empathy he once had, and everyone around him points out that he's being, in short, “an asshole.” He isotes himself, partly by choice (though Renfield certainly encouraged that isotion and pain). Still, the onus is on him to relearn empathy, to reconnect with those who matter to him. He starts out on a lone crusade, but through forced interaction and solving the mystery, he gradually regains his sense of self and becomes, in short, a better person. By the time of the poker tournament, thanks mostly to Angelina, he has reconnected and returned to the person he knows he can be.
Of course, there are some red herrings along the way, and the metaphor is intentionally imperfect to serve the story and inject a few ughs where they’re needed. The idea of a gay, funny Count Dracu simply appealed to me -- he's public domain, after all, so why not have some fun with it? And who could resist making his manservant a pyful nod to the beloved gay erotica and horror writer, Chuck Tingle? It’s my way of throwing in a little irreverence and breaking with the usual vampire tropes.
And that brings us to Renfield.
Renfield in my story is far removed from the version in the original texts. While the cssic Renfield has a brief moment of redemption before his death at Dracu’s hands, my Renfield takes a darker path.
If I’m being honest, I don’t think I could have written a more Republican vilin if I’d spped him with a red hat and an orange spray tan. Renfield embodies not just the threat of transphobes like Scott does with TUMFs, but the type of person who gains pleasure from controlling others, hurting them, and forcing others to harm one another. He is, as Caleb notes, a high school bully -- someone whose only means of survival is by keeping others down.
Renfield’s evil is unambiguous. He’s not just cruel, but contemptuous of empathy, much like how some right-wing figures deride empathy as "the sin of empathy" or the "weakness of empathy." This mirrors the work of thinkers like Hannah Arendt and Captain G. M. Gilbert, who observed that the profound ck of empathy was one of the core elements uniting the evil of the Nazis.
Ultimately, Renfield is defeated not because of Caleb’s singur bravery but because he was undone by a pn that united the community. It was the collective strength of everyone, from the battle-hardened veterans to the newest members. The bravest, like Tom, and the meekest, like Cardi. The glitterboys, the Counts von Count, and allies like Diane and even Scott -- who had to be convinced -- came together to take him down.
The alternate title for that chapter was: "It Takes A Vilge... to Kill A Vampire."
---
So yes, unfortunately, there is a monster at the end of this book.
There is always a monster at the end of the book for trans people -- a moment when we have to leave the little fantasy worlds we construct to survive and face the cold, dark reality of the world we live in. That monster is the world itself. The world we inherited is full of monsters, far scarier and more cruel than any vampire, werewolf, or ghost.
In my book, Renfield is a fictional vampire elder, nearly impossible to kill, who mind-controlled an entire family and caused the deaths of dozens.
In our world, Donald Trump holds the nuclear codes, commands millions of mind-controlled followers, and operates death camps in El Salvador.
But like Renfield, I like to believe even these monsters can be defeated -- not with hope alone, but with the strength of a community coming together. And not in some naive, kumbaya way -- but a community that organizes, that takes action, and when necessary, fights back. I don’t advocate violence, but I don’t advocate impotence in the face of cruelty either.
---
While it may be true to the transgender experience, ending this on a note of bureaucratic frustration probably isn't the best way to go, so let me just leave you with this.
There is a monster at the end of this book.
And this is a horror book.
The real horror isn't the fangs, the blood-drinking, or the ancient evils lurking in the shadows. The real horror is a world that forces people -- vampires, trans people, anyone who doesn't fit the norm -- to constantly fight just to be seen, to be heard, to be treated with dignity.
But horror stories aren't just about fear. They're about survival.
Trans folks, like vampires, have been decred dead a thousand times over. And yet... every night, we rise again.
We're still here. And we're not going anywhere.
If you see me out there, looking weird and manly in a floral blue dress, or anyone like me, just remember: we’re not the monsters you were told to fear. But we are the ones who survived.
And if there's one thing I hope you take from this book, it's that survival isn't just about enduring. It's about finding your people. Your family. Your coven, if you will.
When life is a horror movie, it's a bad idea to split up.
And no one makes it through the night alone.
Anyway, as the cryptkeeper might say:
Fangs for reading.
"S-Kerry" Ann Boyko
P.S. "Caleb Tryst" really was the name of my "Vampire: the Masquerade" TTRPG character in the te 1990s. (Who says that your early mortifying creative work has to stay mortifying?) And "Pants" is a reference to the Oatmeal comic that skewered the original Twilight book.
