Half Sick of Shadows is inspired by Dracula with a Lovecraftian tone and told through disability and queer lenses. This novel will resonate with anyone who’s doomscrolled on diagnosis websites. 

In a setting inspired by the Gilded Age with a modern approach to diversity, historian Aidan and tailor Lucy meet when they accept job offers from the new owners of the remote yet glamorous Heartfont manor. The Heartfonts are an old money family rumored to know the secret to immortality through moonlit rituals. Aidan and Lucy don't believe the myths, but they're down on their luck, and if they turn down their sole employment prospects, they risk everything they've worked for, be it property or respect in their fields. Both have led lonely lives but form a friendship for solidarity as they journey into this uncomfortable world of wealth.

The manor owners, siblings Valentine (they/them) and Cordelia, speak of a desire to leave the shadow of their family history yet are never seen in daylight. Their increasingly erratic behaviors as the Autumn days grow shorter meld with the darkness of the legends. The siblings are taken with their new employees because of the taboo of the class divide, and as they engage in methodical seduction, Aidan’s health worsens inexplicably, Lucy grows paranoid the manor itself is alive, and their nightmares blur with reality. Aidan and Lucy must learn to prioritize themselves, health, and friendship over work so they can stand against these robber barons who physically drain the life of the people. Can they uncover the cause of mystery illness and the secrets behind the all-too real legends before it's too late?

In Half Sick of Shadows, the vampire myth is explored newly through a chronic illness lens, in which the vampire is a symbol for “mystery” diagnosis, inspired by my experiences living with a rare disease.

Themes include the power of platonic love, the importance of community in opposing the harms of capitalism, queer and trans joy, generational trauma, and the 19th century fiction themes of progress vs tradition vs the environment. The novel also subverts gothic gender expectations, presenting a female character in the “investigative hero” role and a male character that experiences a decline into distraction. When reading Dracula, I was pondering the horror trope of mystery illness and was struck with the idea of a character who already deals with disability and for that reason isn't quick to realize something strange is happening. The page becomes a space to explore fears of misdiagnosis and dismissal, being told it's all in your head or that you don't know your own body. In real life, diseases have scientific causes, but wouldn't it be more fun if sometimes it was an actual monster? 

This novel would appeal to readers of Mexican Gothic, Reluctant Immortals, and fans of the "Dracula Daily" social media phenomenon.