Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between releases in two weeks! I've decided to share snippets on the next two Friday's to let everyone get a sample of the story. It's got a blend of dark humor, snark, and a touch of romance.
Dead, Undead Excerpt:
The door to the BP scraped open with a shrill screech of metal, and my stomach heaved. I didn’t turn around to see who it was. My nose easily distinguished the floral smell of Paul Sebastian Design—Deena’s favorite perfume.
“Rhiannon.” Deena’s soft lilt echoed in my ears. “Hector said you’re still sick. Do you need anything?”
I turned my head slightly and called over my shoulder, “I’m fine, Deena. Go back inside. I’ll call you later.”
The door slammed shut, and I heard her heels clicking across the pavement. Double damn! She had come outside. Mr. Suckface seemed delighted by the shift in events; a smile spread across his face.
“I feel bad, asking you to come in,” Deena said, smiling at the tall, dark, handsome leech boy. She looked up and down his body and purred, “Is this a friend of yours?”
It figured. She would never think of dating someone inside the shit pit, but once she dipped outside, her freak was on.
“I’m Evan,” he greeted her casually, voice going husky.
Deena quit moving, as still and quiet as a stone monument.
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” I snapped. “Our bouncers will come looking for her. She’s the only bartender in the place tonight, and it won’t be long until she’s missed.”
“Then we should get going.” Evan turned and offered his arm. I glowered at the appendage, wishing super human strength was one of my newfound abilities so I could rip it off at the shoulder joint and knock him over the head. His smile widened and he lowered the arm, moving closer to Deena.
He extended his hand to touch the cheetah paw print tattoo that encircled her bicep, and I snarled, “Don’t you even think about it, asshole.” Reaching into my pocket, I wrapped my fingers around the carved beaded chain within.
He stepped away from her and approached me instead. His dark eyes flashed as he growled, “The first thing I’m going to work on is your attitude.”
“Take a number.” I dug out the rosary, griping the cross in my fingers. “There’s a long line.”
I extended my hand, beads cascading along my palm, and shoved it into his face.
I learned three important things in that instant. Father Rooney blessed my rosary perfectly, vampire flesh stinks like scorched plastic when it burns, and they are perfectly capable of screaming when it all goes down. His shout bounced off the brick walls in a blaring roar that seemed to carry from the pavement to the sky. He covered his face with his hands, bending over as shaking fingers accessed the damage.
I grabbed Deena’s arm. “We have to go inside, now Deena!” She staggered with each tug, unmoving and unresponsive.
The other two vampires rushed us. One snatched Deena, wrapping his arm around her neck. The other shoved me into the wall, cracking the base of my skull against the bricks. Evan reappeared, and he was pissed. The taste of rosary I’d bestowed left little connect-the-dot holes spaced along his face.
“That wasn’t an intelligent decision.” His long, white, canines gleamed. My attention stayed riveted on them. God they were huge, pointy and sharp.
The metal door to the club opened again.
“What the fuck? Butch!” Cletus barreled out, moving faster than a man that big should. I knew he wouldn’t be strong enough to stop what was happening. No amount of protein shakes and fitness in this world would change the fact that he was a mortal man. Then, I heard the sound of a shotgun being pumped.
Buckshot, on the other hand, just might save my ass.