Genres:
Young Adult Romance
Paranormal Romance
High School
Vampires, Demons, Witches
Dark Fantasy
Horror
~ Kira Sutherland ~
After a near fatal accident (and
getting cheated on by her 'boyfriend'), and beating up the lead
cheerleader (with whom the boyfriend cheated...), and being
labeled as having 'issues' in her school because she, uhm, sees
ghosts, Kira is left with two choices:
1. Continue her 'therapy' (where she's
told the ghost is a hallucination and also gets her legs ogled too
often...)
Or
2. Go to Starkfield Academy, a
boarding school for "Crazies and Convicts" (as the social
media sites call them.)
She chooses the latter...
~ Cory Rand ~
Cory Rand has not had an easy life. His
mother died in a car accident when he was twelve, and so did his
mother's best friend...sort of. You see, Janice made a promise to
take care of Cory just before she died, and so she lingers. Undead. A
ghost that watches out for him.
Brought up in an abusive home, Cory
quickly falls into a life of disreputable behavior. After his third
offense (which was prompted by a girl, as usual - he has a weakness)
he's left with two choices:
1. Be tried as an adult and share a
cell with a guy named Bubba (he thinks...)
Or
2. Go to Starkfield Academy,
which Cory is pretty sure is run by vampires. But, hey, at least
he'll get an education.
He chooses the latter...
It's at Starkfield that Kira
meets Cory Rand, a boy with an insatiable Rage who sees ghosts, too.
As well as other things, other things from his past, things that
confuse him, things like fire and witches and demons.
Things he's always ignored.
Until now.
Buy Links
$20 Amazon Gift Voucher Giveaway
At the back of the book
there is a giveaway link. Once the book hits fifty reviews on Amazon,
one of those reviewers will win a $20 (US Dollars) Amazon Gift
Voucher!
Author Bio
R P Channing started writing three
years ago, but never published anything even after churning out over
a million words of fiction. Thirst: Blood of my Blood is the
first book he dared to publish. When asked why, he said, “Because
it’s the first thing I wrote that my wife actually enjoyed
reading.” When not hammering away (most literally) at his keyboard,
he can be found buried in a book, reading anything from romance to
horror to young adult to non-fiction to comedy.
Author Links
Website
Twitter
Amazon
PROLOGUE
-1-
The Puppy Eyes
My life was perfect.
I had the perfect
shoes and the perfect friends and I lived in the perfect house. My
nails were perfect and my hair was perfect (except on Sundays, it was
always windy on Sundays) and I had the perfect clothes. My lips were
a perfect red and my hair perfectly straight. My eyeshadow was
perfect, my hips were...okay,
and my waist...well...also
okay. Nothing was wrong in my life.
But then there was Jack.
Jack was a problem.
He needed to go. I
mean, when you’re dead, you’re dead!
I had told him this endlessly. Somehow, Jack didn’t get it. I mean,
I felt sorry for the guy. Sure. Being stuck between this life and the
next. But just because I found him, does that mean I needed to keep
him?
I think not!
Sadly, when Jack got that
look in his eyes, that weary, almost teary (if his tear-ducts worked)
look, I melted. I just couldn’t send him away. Not even Jack knew
where he would go after he died.
Would he, like, die?
As in — dead, nada, kaput, finito, gone,
no more? Bye bye, sayonara, ciao, hasta la vista baby and all that?
I couldn’t have that on
my conscience. No way.
I lay on my bed, wondering
what to do about him. “Jaaaaaaack,” I hollered.
“Jaaaaaaack!”
Still no answer.
“Jack!”
Jack...materialized.
His eyes rolled down to
the ground. He was making those puppy eyes again. “Jack, I told you
not to do that. I told you not to play on my sympathies.”
His puppy eyes became
worse.
His skin was gray
and, well, dead.
“Oh, brother,” I
said. “I have to do something about you. If mom finds out I have
another ‘imaginary friend’ — at my age — well, I’d die of
embarrassment. But, like, really
die. Not like you.” I wondered about this. Would
I die? Was Jack a freak accident, or did all people live on like him?
Think of the cemeteries...
The idea excited me
somewhat.
“What would you
have me do, Miss Kira?”
“Knock off the
Miss Kira crap. I told you it’s just Kira.”
“Yes, Miss
Kira.”
The dead. There’s just
no reasoning.
“Fine, Miss Kira it is
then.” Rover barked like a lunatic in the garden. No one else might
be able to see Jack, but I was sure my dog could.
“I have
to do something about this,” I mumbled.
-2-
The Rat
Mike knocked on the door
before I had time to leave the house. Mike was the guy I thought (at
the time) was perfect.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, baby.”
Baby, urgh — I
wasn’t his baby.
I dated Mike because he was the quarterback, because girls are
supposed
to like the quarterback, because it’s just so darn perfect
to be seen with the quarterback, like we’re brainwashed into
thinking these things from the first romantic doll set mom buys us.
This was my previous life.
“Mike.”
“Uh-huh. Gonna let me
in?”
So you can try
rub me up and then complain when I don’t let you?
This, dear reader, was the big problem with Mike. The second we first
kissed, his hand went way too far south
for me to be comfortable — and I pulled back.
Mike suddenly wasn’t so
perfect.
“Uhm, I was just on my
way out,” I said.
“Kira? C’mon, open the
door.” He sounded upset. “Is there someone in there with you?”
Boys. As if.
I didn’t know much
about love (nothing,
actually) but I knew this wasn’t it.
“Uhm, now’s not the
time, Mike.”
“C’mon, Kira, what’s
going on?” He banged harder.
When in doubt...lie. I
opened the door a crack. “There’s a dead rat in the house, Mike.
Been here for days. I gotta go get some detergent and stuff to handle
the stench.”
Mike stepped back. He
peered through the crack of the door.
“It’s really bad,” I
said.
“I’ll drive you.”
“I’m afraid the
smell” — I stuck my armpit to my nose — “has found its way
all over
me. I’ll drive myself.”
“O — okay. Fine.”
And then he grinned like he wanted something. “Later? My place?”
Urgh.
“Uhm, sure...er...later. Not sure when though.”
“Six.”
I fought the urge to
roll my eyes. According to girls at school, he was apparently so damn
good looking — theoretically. But for me personally, he did
nothing. Moved nothing. Twisted nothing.
“Look, I gotta go, Mike. I gotta — ”
“Kira.” His eyes grew
stern. “You’ve been avoiding me...”
Bingo! Well done
contestant number one! And what have you won? A brain!
I tilted my head.
“Mike, look, this...rat
— I need to deal with it. We’ll talk later, okay? Bye.” I
closed the door, not waiting for an answer, and peered out the peep
hole. Mike hung around for a second, shoulders wide and eyes glaring
straight at me through the door. Could he see me? Did he know I was
looking at him?
He kicked something
off the ground, and I had the distinct impression he mouthed the word
Bitch
before leaving. But I wasn’t sure...
-3-
The Mack
“Roll down the
window, Jack.” Jack was recently
dead, so he still had a smell about him. (Which only I
could smell...)
I had purposely skipped
breakfast. Maybe Jack would help me lose weight. I was (still am) a
little wide, although it had never stopped guys flirting with me. I
know how to dress.
But I could be skinnier.
Lucy Rogers was skinny.
All bones and no boobs.
Charlene Carverton was a
babe. Cheerleader. Big chest (which she pushed out generously with a
push-up — if only guys knew). Toned thighs. Charlene only dated
college boys (back then), which I still think is pretty gross for a
girl her age.
“He’s not for
you,” Jack said out the blue.
“Hmm?”
“This...Mike
— he’s wrong for you, Miss Kira.”
For all Jack’s faults (mainly, being
dead), he has a good heart. Factually,
probably it’s why I kept him around at first.
“You think I don’t
know that?”
“Then why don’t
you dump him?”
I braked at a stop sign.
Looked left and right. “Because I’d look like an idiot. I flirted
with him and showed interest, and one kiss later I can’t stand the
sight of him.”
“So dump him.”
“It’s not that simple.
Kids at school — they can be vicious. I have to let it fade slowly.
If I drop the bomb on him, I’ll never hear the end of it through
senior year.”
“And you care?”
Yes, I did. Forget
Guantanamo, schools are rough.
“You don’t understand, Jack. Maybe school was different in your
day. But in mine, well, we walk through metal detectors.”
“Schools
weren’t too different in my day.” I
noted the sadness in his voice.
“You okay?”
“I’m dead.”
Right.
“You miss...your life?”
Jack shrugged. “I
like being with you, Miss Kira. And I don’t remember much of my
life. I think I’m in limbo.”
“Limbo?”
“Yes, like I
have some unfinished business. If only I could remember...what...it
is...” He scratched his head.
“Any ideas?”
“Well, it can’t
be love. If it were love, I’d be a vampire. That’s who teenage
girls fall in love with these days.”
“A vampire? That’s
just what I need — two
undead beings stalking me.”
“I feel I have
something to do around you, Miss Kira. I don’t know what, but
something. Something important.”
I looked over at him.
“Me?”
I was still looking at him
when I missed the stop sign.
The Mack truck drove
straight into us.
No comments:
Post a Comment