You can read the review here.

Jane Bites Back is now available as an unabridged, downloadable (don’t you love new words?) audio book exclusively from audible.com. The book is narrated by Katherine Kellgren, who also did the narration for my friend Seth Grahame-Smith’s Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

So hop on over to audible.com and take a listen.

Those of you in Northern California can tune in to KWMR at 90.5 FM in the Pt. Reyes area and 89.9 FM in Bolinas.

The rest of you can listen online by going here: http://kwmr.org/listen_kwmr.html

Keep checking back for new events.

Read the rest of the review here.

Michael Thomas Ford’s campy tale with Jane Austen as a vampire, “Jane Bites Back,’’ goes way over the top. The narrator is the cool, wittily acerbic observer Elizabeth Jane Fairfax, a bookstore owner in upstate New York, and the latest identity of the undead, 233-year-old Austen.

But even in the face of great tragedy we must move on. Only I haven’t moved very far because I’ve been sick. This stupid cold thing won’t go away, and apparently my head has become a source of never-ending fluids, rather like that porridge pot from the fairy tale.

You remember that, don’t you? You said a rhyme–”Little magic porridge pot, make me porridge piping hot”–and voilà, you had porridge. Then you said something else to make it stop. Only the greedy girl in the story didn’t say the right thing and the pot wouldn’t stop making porridge and eventually the entire town was drowned in the stuff.

Anyway, my head is like that.

However, there has been some fun. Today I received an e-mail from the delightful Laurel Ann, who writes the equally delightful Austenprose blog. Laurel is also a bookseller, and this week she had an encounter with a customer involving Jane Bites Back. It’s very funny, and you can read about it here.

Now I need to go lie down with dogs piled around me and see if I can get some sleep. Please try to keep it down.

It started on Sunday. Well, Monday really as the events occurred after midnight. See, both Patrick and I were coming down with coldy/fluey things. His first day at the new job was Monday, and of course I wanted him to get his rest. Besides, I couldn’t sleep, so I moved to the couch.

Teddy came with me. If you don’t remember Teddy, that’s us to the left. He’s the adorably cute one. Everybody thinks so. People actually stop us on the street and ask to take his picture. They think he’s sweet.

Well.

Teddy isn’t allowed on the bed, but he has full run of the rest of the furniture. As soon as I lay down he jumped up and snuggled next to me. Which was nice. He’s warm and soft and smells good, so I didn’t mind having him there.

I did mind, however, when he wanted to go out at 2:30 in the morning. This isn’t unusual for him, and in fact is more or less his regular schedule. I was just hoping he might be so excited about being on the couch that he would forget about the midnight pee.

But he didn’t, and so out we went. He did his thing and ran back in the house while I locked up. When I came around the corner I saw him furiously rubbing his snout against the carpet. At least that’s what I thought he was doing.

Remember Bob?

That’s him on the right. He’s a hamster. Quite small. Fuzzy. Cute. Brother to Jeff.

At least he was.

That’s right. Was. Because Teddy wasn’t rubbing his snout on the floor. He was shaking Bob. And Bob came out the worse for it.

How Bob got out is a mystery. He was something of an escape artist, and had gotten out of his cage on a number of occasions. In fact I’d already rescued him from Teddy twice and another time from Andrew, who actually had Bob in his mouth and brought him to me like a gift.

In those instances Bob got out because someone left a cage door open. But this time both doors were wired shut, specifically to prevent another nighttime adventure. The only conclusion I can come to is that Bob teleported. That would be just like him.

Anyway, now Bob is dead. If it’s any comfort to you, it was all over very quickly. Shiba inus are hunting dogs, and Teddy did his job with efficiency and precision. Much like a ginsu knife.

I put Bob in the composting bin.

So that was how Monday started. But things perked up on Tuesday when I received word that book reviewer Bob Lind of ECHO magazine named my novel What We Remember as both the best mystery novel and overall best novel of the year for 2009.

Thanks, Bob! It’s always nice when people like your books. And it’s particularly nice when they call them things like “the best book of the year.” And it’s great fun to be on that list with my friend Greg Herren,  whose mystery novel Murder in the Garden District was also in the Top 10.

As it happens, the paperback edition of What We Remember comes out on April 30. I’m not saying you should get it or anything. You know, if you really don’t want to read the best book of 2009. But if you do, the stores will have it. Just in case.

Now look. I’m sad about Bob (the hamster, not the reviewer) and all, but I’d be lying if I said this news about having written the best book of 2009 didn’t up my mood a little bit. I mean think about it. Bob had a pretty good life. He lived on the edge. He saw more in his 18 months than most hamsters see in twice that time. And he went out in a blaze of glory.

So let us remember Bob as he would want to be remembered — not as a tragic figure but as a hamster with a brave heart and fantastic whiskers.

Did I mention that my novel What We Remember was named the best book of 2009?