Trying to Live With the Dead (The Veil Diaries #1)

by B.L. Brunnemer

I pulled my dad’s old ‘89 Chevy Blazer to a stop outside my uncle Rory’s house. I sighed and turned off the truck. New town, new house, new school and new people. It’s not like being the new girl in school is anything new. I’d been forced to go to twelve different schools in the last five years since Dad died. I found it amazing I passed anything at all. I looked back to the house. It was an old two-story craftsman with its multiple pane windows and a new coat of sage green paint. Thanks to Rory, this year was going to be normal. No more moving, no more changing schools, no more having to work a part-time job to make sure we had enough food in the pantry. I rested my head against my seat and closed my eyes. This year was going to be normal. As if I would know what normal is. A chill ran down the back of my neck, I groaned. Come on, I just got here. I sighed and opened my eyes. Standing at the side of the wooded road not ten feet away, stood a man who looked to be in his early thirties. His eyes fixed on the lake, moving over the surface as if he was searching for something. My throat ached as I watched him. I knew before he turned to walk down the road; his throat was slashed wide open, and white bone glistened out of the gaping wound. I gritted my teeth while I fumbled for my phone in my pocket and pretended to check my messages. He came closer. Shit. My throat closed, pain radiating up to my jaw and down to my chest. I took deep breaths and pretended I couldn’t see the d...