You're So Dead to Me (Grimdale Graveyard Mysteries, #1)

by Steffanie Holmes

I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor every atom of me in magnificent glow than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time. JACK LONDON

B + P + E + A = 4EVA.

THE WORLD IS A BOOK, AND THOSE WHO DO NOT TRAVEL READ ONLY A PAGE.

Damn, why did I never notice how hot my old ghost friends were?

Dani is happy. She’s finally living as who she truly is, and it looks damn good on her.

I cannot fall for a ghost. I will not.

And what is up with the way they touch me? Why do they feel so different? Why are they so much more powerful than they’ve ever been before?

Brianna Mortimer is everything I have always dreamed of being. But whereas I embraced everything unusual and different and forbidden, she has always been desperate to be normal. And now… …and now the connection between us is stronger than ever… I almost kissed her.

Brianna smells like tangled bedsheets and the flickering of candlelight. She smells of wild nights and fingernails dragging over my skin. Her scent glides against my ghost skin like the edge of a blade.

“Fuck.” Brianna clamps her hand over her lips and pulls away. Her honey eyes dart toward the door. Panic churns inside me. I have to keep her here.

“No weird tiny birds,” I snap. “You get a piece of Victoria sponge cake, and that’s it.” Edward breaks out one of his signature devilish grins as he bows again. “Brianna Mortimer, I am forever in your debt.”

I guess Shakespeare attracts all sorts of crazies.”

I’ve landed myself in a fair share of trouble, but I also found myself. I found Bree Mortimer is more than a freak – she can be brave and confident and reckless and excitable and clever and wild and very, very stupid. And I’ve had fun. More fun than I could ever imagine, except…I wished I could have shared all those moments with my childhood friends. Is that all this is? Is this tightness in my chest, this tsunami that’s tearing up my insides, simply nostalgia for the way we used to be? Or is it something more…

I am not good with women. I am a champion stabber, a world-class Druid slayer, a brilliant brawler, and a passable tenor. But when it comes to romance, I come from the ‘throw them over your shoulder and fuck them until their legs turn to jelly’ school of seduction.

“That’s what you get for messing with Buffalo Crumperbunts!” “His name is Benedict Cumberbatch,” I say. Pax’s smile grows wide with mischief. “Bumblesnuff Crimpysnitch.” “You’re ridiculous.”

What happens if a human and a ghost kiss? Nothing good. Nothing normal.

I can’t believe that after all these years of falling through objects and floating in walls, she is the one who makes me feel again.

“Let go for me, Brianna. Show these filthy plebs how a lady takes her pleasure.”

I have my own unsolved murder to crack, and my own ghostly demons to slay.

He tastes of sweetness, and blood, and oak leaves caught in the rain. He tastes like home.

“You are such a good girl.”

I can see the faint glimmer of a silver thread wrapping around us both. My heart tugs. I blink, and the thread is gone.

“Your lips are magic. Your tongue is magic. You are magic. Next time,” he growls, “you will be the one screaming my name.”

“She loves all of us, old bean. That’s the problem. Loving us is breaking her heart.”

“Don’t deprive a prince of the joy of unwrapping his present.”

Ghost sex is so much better than regular sex.

I can see the three cords extending from my heart into theirs, squeezing a little as they shimmer and glow.

I dare myself to lift my head. My eyes are closed. I’m too afraid of what I might see. “Bree?” a gravelly voice whispers. I open my eyes. Standing before me, his fingers still entwined with mine, is Pax, solid and enormous, and very much alive.