Hailey Edwards's Blog, page 4

Savannah, Georgia Society Gathering 2019

The Pirates’ House
20 E Broad St, Savannah, GA 31401
(912) 233-5757

The book signing begins at 4pm.The buffet dinner begins at 4:30pm.

Southern Fried Chicken (Mixed Pieces)

Fried Tilapia

Roast Pork Loin

Mashed Potatoes and Gravy

Macaroni & Cheese

Collard Greens

Okra

Tomatoes

Dessert

Iced Tea and Freshly Baked Biscuits

AND one wedding cake cupcake to celebrate Mr. Linus Woolworth joining the
family!

*EACH PERSON IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR OWN BAR TAB.

This portion of the event ends at 7pm.

Break!

You guys are free to mingle on your own from 7pm
– 8pm.You have one hour to reach the starting point
for the ghost tour. See you there!

Genteel and Bard
127 Abercorn St, Savannah, GA 31401

(912) 373-6651

Your two-hour walking ghost tour begins at 8pm in
the center of Oglethorpe Square, which is at the corner of Abercorn Street and
E. State Street in Savannah’s Historic District.For your GPS, you may use 127 Abercorn St,
Savannah, GA 31401 to locate Oglethorpe Square. If needed, there is a parking
deck at 100 E. State Street, adjacent to the square. For another parking
option, street parking is free after 8 pm.Please arrive 10 to 15 minutes to check-in, and
look for your guide wearing a shoulder bag.

FROM THE WEBSITE:

WHAT: Genteel & Bard’s Famous Savannah Dark
History & Ghost Encounter Tour is a historical walking tour that’s too dark
for daylight. You’ll experience our highly-curated, classic storytelling
performance at its creepiest while hearing tales of Savannah’s dark history and
the ghost lore that resulted. You’ll also hear accounts of modern day
paranormal encounters. Please note: we can’t guarantee you’ll see a ghost while
on our tour – we’ve tried, but they just won’t perform on demand.YOUR HOST: At Genteel & Bard we are proud to
boast the most talented, well-read, and passionate historians and performers.
Each of the guides on our staff has a long resume, as in years, of storytelling
performance as well as months of ghost tour training specific to our Genteel
& Bard production. No matter your host, you can rest assured you’ll be
walking Savannah’s haunted streets with a talented, passionate, and
knowledgable storytelling professional. You can read more about our individual
guides here. WHERE: On our ghost tour you’ll see famously
haunted Savannah locations, including the infamous Sorrel-Weed House;
Savannah’s Colonial “Hanging Square”; the mysterious Foley House Inn; Colonial
Park Cemetery; and more. Please note that none of Savannah’s walking ghost tour
companies go inside of these haunted locations as most of them are private
residences, working businesses, or museums. The entirety of your tour will take
place outside. Lucky for us, the streets of Savannah are just as haunted (some
say even more haunted). Savannah is a necropolis – a city built over its dead –
so most of the things that go bump in the night around here, often do so
outside. Including the zombies – no we’re not kidding. DISTANCE / DURATION: Genteel & Bard’s
Savannah Dark History & Ghost Encounter Tour is apprx 2 hrs long, and
covers about 3/4 of a mile of Savannah’s Historic District. TECH: At the start of your tour you’ll be given
a small wireless receiver and a set of souvenir earbuds. Your host speaks into
a wireless microphone throughout your tour experience, allowing you to easily
hear your guide from up to 100 feet away.The tour ends at 10pm.

Drive Safely!
Thanks for coming!

Three

Railroad museum sounded much fancier than the reality. It was more of an abandoned train station you donated five dollars to tour than an actual museum. That meant no handy walls to pen in our vamp. He would bolt if he scented us, scented me, since necromancers smelled alive in a way that parched vampire throats. Cass was old enough to smell like the ruffle of brittle pages in an old book. Unless she had eaten recently. Since baby vamps were prone to bloodlust, she fasted while on the job.

Music throbbed in the darkness ahead. “Do you hear that?”

Cass rolled her eyes so hard, she could have counted her own vertebrae. “What do you think?”

“Dumb question.”

“Yes, it was.” She patted me on the head. “But you’re adorable for asking.”

With a growl, I snapped my teeth at her.

“You’ve spent too much time with Gustav if you’re trying to bite people for petting you.”

“I’ll tell him you said so.”

“Please do.” Her smile turned wicked. “It’s no fun pulling his tail if he doesn’t feel it.”

Signaling for her to hush, even though I had been the one to blab first, a rookie mistake I blamed on the call from Boaz yanking me out of my zone, I drew an ash stake from the holster on my thigh and began stalking the origin of the pounding beat.

Effortless in the way of vampires, Cass strolled beside me on the loose gravel without making a sound.

I envied her stealth when my best was nowhere near her worst, but not the cost of it. 

Cass never talked about who resuscitated her or why, and I didn’t ask. She didn’t talk about why she belonged to a different clan than the one she had been born into, and I didn’t ask about that either.

Prostitutes in her day couldn’t have afforded to pay a necromancer for the service. Not even a madame of her renown. That meant a vamp had paid for it him—or her—self, had wanted Cass by their side for centuries longer than the decades granted to a human, and yet she lived alone.

I didn’t want to poke her tender spots any more than I wanted her to poke mine.

Under a longnecked overhead light, the newest of the engines gleamed ahead of us. Its paint, once the color of ripe tomatoes, had turned rusty as old blood over time. The music poured from a compact Bluetooth speaker propped on the left rear wheel. The range on the device connection couldn’t be far, maybe thirty feet or so. He must be within that radius.

A familiar series of hand gestures informed me of Cass’s intent to circle the outer perimeter in case our heartbroken runaway had made new friends.

One vampire, I could handle. Two would be iffy. Three, and I might as well ring the dinner bell.

Careful to keep several of the behemoth antiques between me and the speaker, I began my hunt in earnest.

A dozen steps later, the front of the engine came into full view, and I found our runner.

Used to blood and death, I didn’t lose my lunch, but I tasted it perched at the back of my throat.

Ron Turner had been staked through the heart and the groin with railroad spikes the killer left in him. Spread-eagle over the tracks, he stared up at the night sky. Or he would have, if his phone hadn’t been placed over his eyes like a sleep mask.

Out of my depth, I held my position, waiting on Cass to circle back to me.

“Well, that was easy.” She didn’t bother crouching, a sure sign we were alone. “Let’s bag and tag him.”

“He’s dead.”

“For about the last six months judging by his current state of decomp.”

Baby vamps were still…juicy…when they died. Only the old ones turned to dust like in the movies. Whoever was responsible for this bit of theater knew that. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have bothered with the symbolic staking or the placement of the phone.

“Okay, smartass. I get he was a vampire, and therefore dead.” I pointed at my chest. “Hello, necromancer? I mean he’s dead-dead.” I reached for my phone. “The kind even we can’t reset.”

“Please don’t do what you’re thinking about doing.”

“This was murder. A ritualistic murder.”

“This is a paycheck.” She rubbed her fingers together through blue nitrile gloves. “A big, fat paycheck.”

“Cass.”

“Addie.”

“Cass.”

“Addie.”

“Boaz is a sentinel,” I confessed, hating how his name popped right into my head. “An Elite.”

“He would rat you out in a heartbeat if you called to tell him you found a dead vampire in a closed railroad museum.” She flung her arm toward him. “The same vampire whose bounty ticket we planned on punching.”

“I didn’t say I was going to call him.” I rubbed my palms over my face. “I don’t know why I mentioned it.”

“He’s posted in Savannah, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Used to her flexible morals where bounty met the law, I scowled at her all the same.

“Here’s your problem,” she continued. “You’re feeling guilty because he thinks he’s buying Suzy Q Homemaker with his money, but you’re more like Buffy if Spike was a girl and also your partner but still incredibly sexy. Oh! Or maybe if Willow and Spike had a baby.”

“Bisexual badass. Gotcha.”

“Yes.” She toyed with the laces on her corset, exposing a hidden pocket with yet more gloves. “But born during one of those alternate universe episode deals. Otherwise, you’d be changing my diapers, Buff. I can’t help you kick ass if I can’t even wipe my own, you know?”

A sigh gusted past my lips. “Does this have anything to do with me and my situation or…?”

Vampires often got swept up in their own mythos, donning silk-lined capes and fake Transylvanian accents, but Cass didn’t have that problem. Not exactly. She didn’t binge every single vampire movie and TV show, read every comic and book series, for the entertainment value. She considered it research. On how to kill vampires. Or even slightly inconvenience them. And then she did everything in her power to avoid those triggers, no matter how ridiculous.

Just my luck the one vampire I actually liked turned out to be a hypochondriac.

“You’re thinking how often we clash with law enforcement.” She was still chugging, full steam ahead. “You’re wondering if you can give this up after your problems are solved by hopping in the sack with your husband, since he’s got enough money for you to retire and do whatever dull thing Society matrons do with their time.”

“You…might be onto something.” I hated admitting it, but there you go. “Who am I after I marry him?”

“A woman who did what she had to for her family.” Cass brushed her fingertips across my cheek, comforting me instead of perving on me for a change. “We painted ladies don’t cast stones, Addie. Stop hunching like you expect to be hit.”

Forcing my shoulders back, I shrugged off her kindness, unable to stomach it.

“You kept your sister alive.” She wasn’t done with me yet. “You kept a roof over her and your father’s heads. You’ve busted your ass to make sure he doesn’t have to swim up from the bottom of the bottle he’s always floating in these days.”

Throat tight, I withdrew. “That’s enough.”

“He’s not the only one grieving. You lost your mom. You lost your sister. And now you feel like you’ve lost yourself.”

Crushing my eyes shut, I blocked out her and her acid-churning truths. “I have to call this in.”

“I’ll do it.” She shoved me toward the exit. “Go home.” She dug in her pocket then tossed her keys at me. “Take my car. I’ll find my own way.” She adjusted her breasts. “Handsome sentinels can be so gosh darn helpful when properly motivated.”

Metal bit into my palm when I closed my fingers around my escape route. “Are you sure?”

“I can take the heat.” She reached for her phone. “I’m out of the closet.”

Until I tied the knot with Boaz, I had to keep my extracurricular activities hidden from him. Otherwise, he would call off the engagement. After all, he was buying my family’s good name to expunge the scandal from his own. He would cut me loose the second I couldn’t uphold up my end of the deal if I didn’t cross the finish line with him before my cover got blown. If that happened, he would wash me off his hands before the mud splattered from my family name onto his.

Society engagements could drag on for years, but I didn’t have that long. As much as my heart wished it otherwise, my obligations would force my hand. Until I put a ring on his finger, and he made a deposit into my account, I was the sole provider for my family. 

I could not mess up with him. Could. Not.

Twitchy from the murder, and cold from the bargain I had made, I didn’t give Cass’s car a second appreciative glance. I had been brought too low for it to be more than transportation, too mad to care it was a dream to drive.

I startled when a phone rang through the speakers, the number flashing on the screen familiar.

Oh, goddess, no. How did Boaz get this number? How did he know…?

Only one way to find out. I mashed accept. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” He chuckled softly, I think at himself, but I didn’t get the joke. “I brought takeout and a movie. I guessed on both. I hope you like dim sum and Keanu Reeves.”

The strain in his voice from trying caused a sympathetic twang in my chest. It’s not like arranging a marriage was his idea of a good time either. Neither of us had much say in our engagement, not with our families in such rough shape.

His little sister had gotten into trouble in Savannah. He didn’t want to talk about it, but it was bad. Bad enough he wanted to give her Hadley’s name to start over fresh somewhere else. Bad enough he was willing to court a woman far beneath him. Only the scandal had brought him so low, and wasn’t that depressing? Not half as depressing as me agreeing to his terms in order to save what I had left, but still.

“I went for a drive,” I blurted, relief making me dizzy as I remembered Cass’s car syncing with my phone earlier. “I have no objections to dim sum, but which Keanu are we talking here? Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure? Speed? A Walk in the Clouds? The Matrix?”

“You recited those like you’ve got a list in front of you.” His laugh came out sounding genuine this time. “I might be in over my head here.”

“My best friend watched Bram Stoker’s Dracula one too many times and fell in love with Jonathan Harker. Well, the actor who played him. Not the character.”

Cass viewed movies as falling into one of two categories: Vampires and Keanu Reeves.

“You’ve already seen John Wick,” he realized. “I can download something else—”

“John Wick is fine.” I almost smiled. “I can respect a man who goes on a killing spree over his dog.”

“Bloodthirsty,” he teased. “I’m going to chalk Keanu up as the first thing you and I have in common.”

Common ground? He cared about that? It was more than I expected from him, and I couldn’t tell yet if it made me happy he cared or downright terrified I would flub this on some compatibility component.

“I thought you were going home?” I noticed an incoming call but didn’t know how to switch lines without dropping him, and the car didn’t provide any helpful pointers. “To Savannah?”

“That was the plan.” He sounded tired all of a sudden. “I stopped by the sentinel outpost to say hi to an old friend and got drafted for my trouble. Looks like I’ll be in town a few more days.”

Dread swam the backstroke through my gut, and its form was perfect. “Drafted?”

“A vampire was killed here three days ago. The method resembles a case I’ve been working on and off in Savannah, so I’ll be consulting.”

On and off? Existing case? Crap. There went my hope Ron’s death had been a simple lover’s quarrel.

“Oh.” I searched for my voice. “That’s horrible.”

And it was about to get worse once he found out there had been another murder.

“It’s a worry for tomorrow.” He tied off that conversation with a deft twist in topic. “We didn’t get much time to really talk earlier. We just got down to brass tacks. My schedule is clear until I report in officially at dusk, so I thought I would drop in to see you in a less formal setting.”

Part of me wondered if this date night was Dad’s suggestion, but it was more likely Boaz wanted to follow up after Dad called him to make sure I wasn’t following in his inebriated footsteps.

“Just stay put.” I flexed my hands on the wheel. “I’m on my way.”

A pleased laugh at my eagerness brightened his tone. “I’ll be here.”

Fumbling for more conversation, I blurted, “Where are you staying?”

“The barracks.”

“We have plenty of room.” I dusted off my manners. “You’re welcome to one while you’re here.”

Boaz hesitated a moment. “Are you sure you want me underfoot?”

My fiancé of twenty-four hours sleeping down the hall from me? Not ideal. But this way I could keep an eye on him while ensuring he couldn’t return the favor. With proper incentive, he might even talk up his cases and give me an idea of what Cass and I were dealing with if the killer wasn’t finished in my town.

“It’s no trouble,” I promised him in a rush. “No trouble at all.”

Now I just had to figure out how to change before he saw me dressed in hunting gear and got his hopes up he was marrying a dominatrix.

Two

Cass and I didn’t bother sneaking out of the house. I could no longer afford to pay the maid or the cook or the driver, and Dad had retired to his room for the night. There was no one to catch us making our exit.

As fake as my drinking act might be, his was very real and had been since Hadley died. Yet another reason why I trusted him to ignore my faked drunkenness. Confronting my bad habits would mean confronting his own issues.

Our bloodline brushed as close to High Society as any Low Society family could boast. We had power in our blood, and we could work small magics. Not that the past few generations of Whitakers had honed those talents or put them to good use. 

The Pritchards might be as Low Society as it got, but their matrons were savvy, and their coffers were full. I might not want to exchange my last name for Boaz’s, but I had done worse to keep my family fed and clothed. Even if I tasted bile when I thought about losing what I had fought so long and so hard to preserve.

Maybe Boaz would consider hyphenating his last name? Whitaker-Pritchard or Pritchard-Whitaker was easier to swallow than erasing my identity all together.

“You’re thinking about marriage again,” Cass sing-songed. “You realize he’ll want to have sex with you. That means he’s going to touch you, kiss you, nibble on your—”

“How many years were you a prostitute again?”

“Two or three hundred.” She leaned in, bosoms heaving. “Would you like to see what I learned?”

“I’ve watched porn with you.” I shooed her out the door. “I’m set, thanks.”

“Now that’s just mean.” Popping out her bottom lip, she pouted. “That wasn’t porn. That was an adult film.”

Cass was the rare vampire who relished dumping her past identities and embracing new roles. Most clung to what they knew and went mad from it in the end. She would never have to worry about that.

“As much as I enjoy discussing my best friend’s sexual exploits, we have a job to do. Remember?”

“You’re no fun.” She sighed dramatically. “You’re about to be married. Have fun while you still can.”

“Anonymous sex isn’t my idea of fun.”

“How do you know until you try it?”

“I’ll make you a deal.” I spun it around on her. “Keep it in your pants for thirty days, and I’ll have the one-night stand of your choice.”

“It’s a…” She wet her lips, tried again. “It’s a…” Her mouth moved, but no sound emerged. “It’s a…”

“Deal is the word you’re looking for,” I said helpfully. “Come on, say it.”

“Damn it, Addie. That’s not fair. I have needs.”

“And I don’t.” I had made it this long without sex. I wasn’t in any hurry to rectify the situation given who the rectifier would be. “So stop bullying me.”

“I don’t mean to push.” She picked at her manicured nails. “I just worry.”

Vampires her age didn’t express affection the way necromancers did. They mostly bit or sexed up the ones they loved. Since I wasn’t interested in either, she was at a loss as to how to show me she cared. I tried letting her hug me once, but she took off her shirt first and pressed my face into her boob crack. It was a very nice boob crack, but it didn’t do much for me except give me perkiness envy.

“You don’t have to anymore.” I tacked on a smile. “I’m engaged, and Prince Charming will fix all my problems. Haven’t you read any fairytales?”

“I was alive when a few were written,” she said dryly. “Trust me, the writers took artistic license. Except with the prince kissing sleeping princesses thing. Sure, he claimed he was attempting to wake her, but he didn’t have to pull her dress down over her boobs to find her mouth.”

“You just ruined one of my favorites for me. Thank you for that disturbing mental picture.”

“Men are pigs.” She shrugged. “What do you expect?”

“Them not to put the moves on unconscious women?”

“You’re so adorable.” She stroked her fingers through my hair. “You and all your cute little morals.”

The hunger in her eyes wasn’t new. She would bite me in a heartbeat if I let her. That’s the danger of being friends with a vampire. She would also dry hump me if I stood still for too long. Again, the danger of being friends with a vampire.

From what I could tell, they reached an age where they became gender blind. Bodies became bodies to them, and pleasure could be found in either form. Since I was a stick in the mud—her words, not mine—any pleasure she derived from me came from annoying me until I reminded her of my flawless aim.

“Any idea where we can find Ron?” I swatted her hand. “Or do we have to hunt him down?”

“He was last seen near the railroad museum.” She made a production of pulling a shiny new key fob from her cleavage. “The engine section.”

Turning around, I got an eyeful of her latest acquisition. A sleek black Ferrari I only recognized because of its prominent branding. Her master gave it to her as a bonus for bringing in the most money to the clan ten years running. Thanks to me. But did Jamal buy me a Ferrari? Nope. Not even a pine tree shaped air freshener.

Granted, I would have sold the car in a heartbeat and bought a used one for under ten grand with the money. The mental picture of all the zeroes I would have left in my bank account gave me butterflies in my stomach. Green ones. With pictures of Ben Franklin dotting their wings.

Cass stalked to the driver side and slid behind the wheel, doing a happy wiggle as she settled in.

The heady combination of leather and new car smell made me dizzy with lust no man (or woman) had yet to inspire in me as I claimed the seat beside her.

“I would give you this car.” She cranked it, and the engine purred. “If you would use it and enjoy it.” She threw it into reverse, and gravel sprayed from under the tires. “But you would sell it and bank the proceeds. I can see the dollar signs in your eyes.”

Given I had just been fantasizing about doing that very thing, I didn’t have a leg to stand on.

A buzz in my pocket almost made me jump out of my skin. “Cheez-It.”

Notorious for forgetting my phone, I realized Cass had done more than cop a feel while I was dressing. She had stuck my cell and my ID in my back pocket.

“You’ve got to learn how to curse like a big girl one day.”

Ignoring her, I answered the call. “Hey, Gustav.”

“Your collar has been cornered,” he rumbled in a thick accent. “Get to the pier.”

“The pier?” I craned my neck at Cass. “What happened to the railroad museum?”

“That was two nights ago.” A car engine roared to life in the background. “Cassandra’s intel is old.”

“Suck it,” she yelled at our boss, who could hear her just as well as she heard him thanks to their heightened senses. “We always get our man.”

Boss wasn’t the right word, but it did the job. Cass was answerable to her master and her clan, and I was answerable to the Society and my family. Working for Gustav, a warg, created an interspecies loophole that allowed us to join his bounty hunter guild without any messy affiliations getting in the way.

“With pleasure, Häschen.” A husky chuckle flowed into the car with us. “Name the place and the time.”

The fact our boss called her a bunny, or maybe it was cute little bunny? I could never remember. It made me think it was a vampire joke since he was a warg. Maybe he thought it was cute implying she was Bunnicula. Or maybe he still had his tail in a twist because, regardless of how she pestered me, she had rules about sex with coworkers. It got a big, fat no for her. She preferred anonymous sex, and lots of it. Hard to keep it anonymous if you had to chat over a watercooler with the guy/girl you banged and fanged the night before then ditched as fast as your superhuman speed allowed.

And yet she had the gall to lecture me on relationships when I was the one committed to a guy I couldn’t outrun.

Okay, fine. Put like that, it was clear neither of us should ever open our mouths and let advice fall out.

“This is sexual harassment.” Cass’s eyes glinted with mirth. “Careful, or I’ll file a complaint with HQ.”

I must be an absolute dud in the hormones department. Maybe there was something biologically wrong with me? Maybe I crushed all those impulses until all I had left south of my belt was the Sahara.

A beep interrupted their flirting, a call from an unknown number, and I made goodbye noises at Gustav before switching lines. “Addie.”

“Hey.”

A hard thud rattled my heart against my ribs. “Boaz.”

Cass ignored the traffic in favor of gawking at me.

“I wanted to check in.” He hesitated. “See if you were okay.”

See if I had decided to back out, more like it. It’s not like I had given him a ring, just my word.

“Any particular reason why?” I leaned over and physically turned Cass’s head forward. “It’s nice, but it’s…unexpected.”

No emotional attachments on either side would make this whole ordeal so much easier to swallow.

“Your dad called,” he admitted after another awkward pause. “He sounded…”

“Drunk.”

“I was going to say worried about you.” Boaz cleared his throat. “He said you were upset.”

“And you wanted to make sure I wasn’t having second thoughts.”

“No one knows we’re engaged. Just you, your dad, and me. You can break it off before it gets announced without a slap on the wrist from the Society or any hard feelings from me.”

“You asked me to marry you—” a totally backwards and human thing to do, “—and I agreed. That’s where it starts and stops for me. I’m a woman of my word.”

“I never doubted.” He softened his voice. “I’ll let you go then.”

“When will you be back?” I blurted before I could catch myself. “To, um, finalize things?”

“Miss me already?” he teased with the ease of a man who did it often. “I was thinking a week.”

“A week sounds good.” I struggled to sound professional, but my default setting gave me fits when I was around him. “I’ll have the papers drawn up and waiting for you.”

“Will you be?”

Certain I had missed something, I backtracked. “Will I be what?”

“Waiting for me.”

Panic coated the back of my throat, and I rushed out a hasty, “Goodnight, Boaz.”

“Night, Addie.”

He was gone before I could remind him only my friends called me Addie.

“That’s interesting.” Cass radiated smugness. “Very interesting.”

“That Gustav wants in your pants? That’s hardly a newsflash.”

“Nice try.” She snorted. “You’re not going to distract me with thoughts of Gustav naked and rubbing me down with butter.”

“I…didn’t mention butter. And now I might never eat it again. Thanks for that. Anything else you’d like to ruin for me tonight?”

“Just one last thing.” She flicked me a glance. “You like him.”

“We’re getting married.”

“Your pheromones shot off the charts when he answered.”

“Just nerves.” I tucked my phone back in my pants. “Pre-wedding jitters.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” She chuckled. “This certainly makes things more interesting.”

“Stop saying interesting in that tone and keep your eyes on the road. One of us is still alive, you know.”

Cass mimed buttoning her lips and left me to stew over the fact my gut was tight, and my palms were sweaty.

Clearly, I was having an anxiety attack. I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for a guy with his reputation. After I got home, I would pop a Zoloft. Problem solved. Until then… “You missed the turn for the pier.”

“Ron’s not at the pier.”

“Gustav—”

“Parroted rumors at us that I planted two days ago.” She scoffed. “Do you really think I would tell him where our mark is hiding? He’s the boss, and he’s all about the bottom line. He gives those tips to everyone to better his chances of landing the mark, which means the pier will be swarming.”

“You’re amazing.”

“I know.”

Settling in for the short drive to the museum, I pushed all thoughts of Boaz Pritchard out of my head and prepared to bag and tag a baby vamp worth three house payments. Who knows? Maybe I would go nuts with the bonus, if we got to him first, and buy myself a bottle of the nail polish I had been eyeballing. The rich brown with golden swirls reminded me of…

Oh crap.

Boaz’s eyes.

One

I poured another shot from the tequila bottle and tipped it
down my throat. And then another, and then another. “Is it still an arranged
marriage if you arrange it yourself?”

“You can’t be serious.” Dad dropped onto the mattress beside
me. “Boaz Pritchard?”

“He’s desperate.” I drained the dregs then set the bottle on
the nightstand. “So are we.”

“We aren’t that far gone,” he harrumphed. “Not yet. We still
have—”

“I won’t let it come to that.” Pawning Mom’s jewelry,
selling the family home, asking relatives for help. More help. Again. “This is
a solution to everyone’s problems.”

Chin down, Dad peered at me over the wire frames of his
glasses. “Will he make you happy, Addie?”

“What is happy? Can you even remember?” I laughed darkly.
“I’m not sure I can.”

“Happy for me was the day you were born, the day Hadley was
born.”

The mention of my little sister punched the air from my
lungs, and I swallowed a sob to get oxygen.

“Happiness comes nine months after the wedding night,” I
said, voice broken, and set my glass aside. “Gotcha.”

“We have options,” he said softly. “You don’t have to sell
yourself to pay our debts.”

“I signed the paperwork. It’s done.” I flopped back onto the mattress where Hadley had wasted away to nothing but fragile bones and paper skin and let my eyes close. “Make your peace with it.” I pressed my face into the pillow that still smelled like the lavender children’s shampoo the nurse had used to bathe her. “I have.”

“Get some rest.” He collected the empties to take with him,
and I crossed my fingers he didn’t sniff them. The drunk act was tough to pull
off after your dad realized you were tossing back shots of water. “We’ll talk
about this again at dusk.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Lingering in the doorway, he watched over me until my even breaths convinced him I had drifted off to dreamland. He murmured a prayer to the goddess, asking her to watch over me, and I wondered, just for a moment, if he knew how I had paid the bills the last few years. No. He would have never let me out of his sight if he had a clue. Not after we lost Hadley.

“I thought he’d never leave,” the vampire hiding in the
closet sighed before flinging open the doors.

“You could have texted me.” I shifted onto my side, facing
her. “You didn’t have to show up in person.”

“Cellphones broadcast radiofrequency waves.” Cassandra made
the sign of the cross. “The International Agency for Research on Cancer
classifies RF fields as ‘possibly carcinogenic to humans’.”

“You’re not human,” I pointed out, “and vampires don’t get
cancer.”

The Catholic thing was a gray area for me. As a necromancer, I worshipped Hecate. As a reanimated human, her options were less black and white and more shades of gray.

“I used to be human,” she countered. “Besides, you can never be too careful.”

“You’re the next best thing to immortal.”

“And I want to stay that way.”

Giving it up as a lost cause, I got down to business. “Why are you here, Cass?”

The slender vampire exited the closet dressed in black
leather pants and a corset top that allowed her boobs to defy gravity. Her hair
was dyed a shade of neon yellow that made highlighters everywhere jealous.

As much as I told myself she was a product of her time, that the whole corset and plumped breasts thing was a holdover from her human life, I wondered if she wasn’t just an exhibitionist at heart. Why else would she give her boobs a pep talk whenever a hot guy entered her line of sight? Or kiss their rounded tops when they did a good job of luring one in? Or have more wardrobe malfunctions than most strippers?

“How are we going to blend into the night when your hair is
radioactive?”

“There’s this amazing invention called a beanie.” She
produced one from her backpack. “You slip it on your head and—” she pinned her
eye-popping braid on top of her head while she tugged on the knitted cap, “—voila!” She cocked a hip and rested her
fist on the curve. “They even come in black.” She winked. “Stealthy.”

“You’re a goober.” I snorted as I rose and circled the bed to plunder Hadley’s hope chest. “How old are you again?”

Figuring it was the last place Dad would ever look, I boxed up her dress, her shoes, her veil—the whole shebang—to make room for the black leather outfit I wore when Cass sneaked me out of the house.

“A lady never tells her age,” she said with a haughty
disdain worthy of a vampire. Just not her.

“What’s on the agenda for tonight?” I sprayed on body powder, coughing at the fragrant cloud, then pulled on the skintight suit, thankful my top was long-sleeved with a collar for protecting my throat against fangs. “I assume we’ve got a gig since you’re skulking in my little sister’s closet.”

“We’ve got a runner.” She smiled, and her fangs sharpened to
vicious points. “A new member from Clan Willis. A Mr. Ron Turner. Apparently
his boyfriend, Angelo, paid to have him turned and brought into his clan. They
broke up when Ron’s fledgling vampire libido caused him to step out on his
lover, who’s older than him by about ninety years. Cue drama.”

We had both heard this story before, and it always ended in
tears or in blood or in tears and in blood.

“So, Ron realized he still loves what’s-his-name and can’t
live forever without him.” That’s usually how it went. Baby vamps really
couldn’t keep it in their pants. Their hearts had nothing to do with it. The
decision was handed up to the brain from south of the belt. “Rather than face
the sun, which likely wouldn’t kill him at his age, he ran away from home.”

“I can’t decide if you’re an utter romantic for that bit of
fiction,” Cass said, “or if you’re the bitterest, most twisted soul I have ever
had the great fortune to meet.”

I glanced up from stomping on my boots. “Can’t it be both?”

“Uh, no.” She popped me on the butt. “You either believe in
love, or you don’t.”

“I believe in—” I yelped when she smacked me again, harder
this time. “Quit that.”

“I meant romantic love, and you know it.” She rubbed the sting from my bottom until I danced out of her reach. “What? I can’t resist your butt in leather.”

What she couldn’t resist was unnerving people. Vampires had twisted senses of humor, and Cass’s was a spiral.

The joke here wasn’t she thought a woman touching me would get under my skin, but that anyone touching my private bits jangled my nerves.

Playing nurse fulltime for Hadley so Mom and Dad could keep up appearances meant I didn’t have much of a social life. I had kissed boys, sure, but that had never convinced me to let them go any further. Lucky for me, the rumor mill swore my future husband had enough practice in that area for both of us. I could just lay back, relax, and let him inseminate me.

“Save it for your clients.” I pointed the blunt end of a
stake at her. “I’m engaged.”

“Your lip curled on the word. Try it again.” She fluttered
her lashes. “Mrs. Boaz Pritchard. Matron Boaz Pritchard.” She considered the
Society hierarchy for a moment. “Matron Adelaide Pritchard? Whatever.”

“Matron Pritchard.”

The new title hurt my ears, the name more curse than
blessing. I should have been Matron Whitaker, I should have inherited the
mantle from my mother—not Boaz’s—but should
have beens didn’t pay the rent, buy food, or keep the lights on. They sure
didn’t pay for medicine or for nurses to hover over sickbeds like angels come
to earth.

“You’re grinding your teeth again.” Cass frowned. “Forget Pritchard. Let’s hunt.”

Relief eased the tightness in my shoulders, and I strapped
on my knives. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.”

The Redemption of Boaz Pritchard

Years and years ago, when I was a baby writer, I had a blog serial. It was fun for me, but I didn’t have the readership to justify the time. (Seriously, I’m not exaggerating when I estimate four people read it.) However, I still love the idea of using the serial format to explore the lives of characters who would otherwise not have their story told.

There are a lot of complicated feelings about Boaz, which is cool. You’re all entitled your feels! But, and if you’re in my reader group you’ve heard this before, I actually have a huge soft spot for him.

See, I wrote How to Save an Undead Life about five years ago. I turned it in to my developmental editor, and she helped me see that the idea needed to cook longer. A couple of years later, I revisited the idea, and…it still didn’t work. Grier and Linus had no spark, and the only way to create it was to twist him into a character I didn’t want to write. I waited a long time for Linus, and I couldn’t do that to him. Enter Boaz.

He was the wedge I needed to drive between Grier and Linus to force them to grow into the people they needed to be. Sure, he’s an asshat. And yeah, my readers call him Bo-ass. But hey! His ass saved the series. That makes him pretty special. Special enough I want to redeem him.

Well, not me personally. I ain’t got time for that. I’m going to let Adelaide do it for me.

How This Works

I will post snippets weekly or monthly depending on my deadlines. My novel-length projects will always come first, and I have zero control over my projects with publishers. That means I might have to press pause on this until those obligations have been met.
These snippets will be a couple thousand words, basically a single scene to further the story arc.
Serials not your thing? No problem. I’ll have this edited and formatted and slap it up on Amazon when it’s finished.
I say that to say this– This project might end up a short story or a novella or a novel or even a few novels. It all depends on you guys! Read the blog, leave comments, share it with your friends. I can’t base this decision on sales. I have to go with my gut. When interest peters out, I’ll tie it off and make a book out of it.
I’ll give this a quick self-edit as I go, but it’s not going to get polished until it’s done and with my editor. (Trust me, she’s much better at her job than I am.) I’m sure there will be timeline issues and other fun things if this goes on for long. SPEAKING OF TIMELINES!
This serial kicks off the night after Adelaide breaks the news to her dad she’s agreed to marry Boaz and goes from there. It will bop all over the place–again, depending on how long this lasts–from that moment (which happens in the background during How to Break an Undead Heart) and all throughout The Beginner’s Guide to Necromancy (plus epilogues) and The Potentate of Atlanta series.
I’ll probably add more notes here as I think of stuff and things.
Also? You might want to subscribe to the blog. That will make it easier to spot the new posts since they may or may not appear on any kind of schedule. You can do that by entering your email in the subscription widget.

TBGTN Inspired Tattoos!

Aren’t they fabulous?!

Pics from the New Orleans Society Gathering!

I’m Going to Coastal Magic

Here’s a handy dandy visual aide for the #CMCon20 Featured Authors. And there are still a few to add! Hope to see you by the beach! Feb 20-23, 2020

War burned her. Famine nearly killed her. Now Death is at...

War burned her. Famine nearly killed her. Now Death is at her heels.

After her two worlds clashed apocalyptically, Luce Boudreau needed some time out. But Destiny had other ideas. When bodies begin washing ashore down the Mississippi River, Luce discovers they are part of a gruesome, lethal message. Her final sister, Death, is trying to break through.

Every sign is clear: the end is coming, but earth will be destroyed – quite literally – over Luce’s dead body, even if that means she’ll be battling her own nature. And her coterie will stand with her, though Cole keeps standing one step too goddamn far away. Her mysterious new partner, Adam Wu, on the other hand, seems determined to keep her close at all times. And the more Luce learns about the new world she’s part of, the deeper the secrets go. Who – if anyone – can she really trust?

As the final pieces of an ancient war come together, Luce’s chance to fight back comes sooner than she expected. Death can come at her . . . she’s eager to return the favour.

 

Pick up your copy here.

A Reader Made a Grier Doll, and She is AMAZING

Look what came in the mail today! The detail on this doll is amazing.