Grave Robbing and Other Hobbies
by Jayce Carter
GENRE: Contemporary Paranormal Erotic Romance
Abandoned at three—whose parents want a kid who sees ghosts?—I learned the world is quick to punish misfits. I try my best to be a normal, boring human, but the call of the supernatural just won’t be ignored.
When a stranger shows up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, it’s no sexy tryst. Instead, I’m off to the graveyard, digging up the corpse of a murder victim at the demand of the local vampire coven—and that small felony is just the start.
The spirit of the woman has gone missing, something that shouldn’t be possible, and everyone is looking to me for answers. There’s Kase, a vampire who’s both terrifying and secretive. Grant, a mage with a bad attitude and a lot of power. Troy, the possessive werewolf-detective next door and Hunter, a mysterious bad boy who isn’t even close to human.
It’s a race not just against time but against everything to figure out where the spirits are going, who’s behind it and if I can trust the men who now share my bed.
And all because of a little grave robbing…
I took the stairs carefully, gripping the railing as I went, trying to peer into the darkness of my living room.
Was it Kase? Had he decided he didn’t care for a human telling him what to do or where to go? Or perhaps Troy figured waiting until morning for something between an apology and a lecture was just too far.
Except, I knew it wasn’t them. I could feel it deep in my bones, the way I knew when the sun rose without looking outside, the way I knew when a predator was staring at me.
Whatever was here wasn’t anything as trivial as a vampire or werewolf.
And what sort of screwed up world did I live in where vampires and werewolves were trivial?
When I reached the ground floor, that chill worsened. I struggled to breathe, and the darkness wasn’t run of the mill, as if someone forgot to turn on a light. It was deeper, as though light wasn’t just absent but devoured. Something was there inside it, shifting, staring back at me.
My wrists burned, as if fire licked along the edges of the scars there. It crept up my arms, searing me, and when I would have screamed, someone closed their hand over my mouth.
“Trust me, you don’t want it to hear you.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Jayce Carter lives in Southern California with her husband and two spawns. She originally wanted to take over the world but realized that would require wearing pants. This led her to choosing writing, a completely pants-free occupation. She has a fear of heights yet rock climbs for fun and enjoys making up excuses for not going out and socializing.
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