Welcome to Thea Reads Thursdays. The last 3 weeks was all about Kat from Theta Waves, but since the novella has gone live, I figure you’d rather grab it in its entirety than read it week by week.
For now, vampire addicts are in luck! I’m live writing along with a few other writers and posting bits here on my blog of
Vampire Addictions Book 2: Installment 1
Remember, it’s raw and first draft…so grammar and spelling may be wonky. Did you miss Vampire Addictions 1? Start with the first FREE bite of Vampire Addictions is available from Amazon, Kobo, GP, iTunes, BN.
There are things in this life that are mysteries to me. Some folks wonder how the Nazca lines were made, whether Atlantis existed, or where exactly Cleopatra’s body ended up after she danced with the asp. I just find myself wondering why an ancient vampire has me scouting out libraries in the dustiest parts of the city. I mean, what kind of sicko has a taste for plain old librarian blood when he can afford the exotic blends of willing circus performers or burlesque acts? Why not go for a rock star, or a candy bar heiress, or a famous actress. Surely any one of them would be more than willing to end the sham of life they’re enduring, having done everything and everyone already that even remotely smacked of intriguing. Maybe some of them even owe humanity that little favour.
Mine wasn’t to question though; it was merely to do my duty. And I supposed it was a good thing anyway that the client wanted something I might actually be able to achieve because as it turned out, I was terrible at my new job. Over the last weeks I’d been employed it had become horrifically clear I’d been given this task because of my truly shitty recruiter skills, and a librarian might actually be a recruit that was within my grasp.
When I’d taken the job, I’d thought I’d wanted to punish the ghost that had taken over my body, brought back from the other side because a voodoo priestess missed her lover and I’d been desperate enough to go to her for help because I’d been enthralled by the original vampire. It was a mess, all that, with so many I gotcher noses I couldn’t see straight for peering at the end all the time. I’d finally managed to confront the priestess with Magnus at my side, and no one, absolutely no one dared refuse that Viking-esque vampire. Aisha the Haitian voodoo queen separated me from the parasite that was her lover but lost her own body in the process. Another grisley mess, if you ask me, but I wasn’t about to come between two lesbians and their lovers’ spat even if I had come to like Aisha. The woman that remained in her body looked like the voodoo queen but behaved as Isme the sociopathic ghost.
I’m still bitter about it, but a woman moves on, even if said sociopath had the gall to infer that the dead weren’t far from done with me. Well, Hell, yeah, sister. I was banging a hot vampire, wasn’t I? The monster inside came about four times a week, thank you very much.
At any rate, because I’d lost my job at the vet’s office due to a helluva lot of paranormal interference, I was in dire need of coin. If I didn’t bag me a recruit, I could kiss my apartment, along with sustenance and lacy panties, goodbye. I liked my panties, and I was rather fond of sleeping indoors.
The client I was recruiting for had been very specific. It had to be woman. It had to be a librarian. And it had to be someone who adored Egyptian culture.
I’d been watching this current chick for the last two weeks after spending far too many hours in the dankest of must-ridden book depositories in the city. This one seemed to have all the earmarks of the recruit I was searching for.
It was a plus for me that the woman also turned out to be a lesbian because it offered me a new hustling angle that I hadn’t considered before. Folks told me I was attractive. Magnus couldn’t keep his teeth off
“So what do you think?” I said to her from my side of the counter, fingering the seam of pages facing me. “I’ve got the keys to my boss’s manse.”
She eyed me something I’d call lechery if she’d have managed to deliver it right. As it was, she just looked cross-eyed. I had to repress the shudder. She wasn’t exactly attractive. Butchy, if a gal liked butchy, but I didn’t like gals that way so her harsh-angled jaw was making it harder for me to lay the stank of charm on her.
“Well?” I let my fingers trail to her wrist.
“The stacks,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to do it the history section.”
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