I loved my publishing life, but there is one book I look back on and shudder. That would be Slave to Blood, which was initially supposed to be the diary of Elizabeth Bathory. I switched gears after finding the true history to be rather dull, merging here story with a modern-day woman who adored Bathory. It all became, in my mind, a jumbled mess, and while I hate it, I have had a couple of my regular readers tell me it is their favorite of mine.