I love when a new book comes out. I want to be the first to read it and will stay up all night...devouring the story. I'm lucky to also help new authors find the dream of publication. Freaksville is the type of story I love...supernatural tales of people searching for the truth, finding love and overcoming obstacles. Check it out...
Welcome to Westera, here you’ll find the most amazing views. This is the mountains, of course. If you look to your left you’ll find a nice couple cuddling on the park bench. It is chilly today, oh, wait…why is there blood coming from her neck?
Yes, here in Westera you do get those interesting views of the beautiful landscape. The waterfalls, the nice people. It’s a wonderful place to reside.
What most people don’t know is…that it’s also where the freaks reside.
Hello all, my name is Nessa and I’m a witch. My friends are vampires. We’re not evil, at least I’m pretty sure we’re not. And I do like people…for the most part.
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“It moved!” Kyle jumps away from the corpse.
“Yeah, sometimes corpses move. Like, they let out gas, they shrink, and their eyes turn gray. I think they move because of something to do with nerves and the brain. Or gases in the body,” I explain calmly, still trying to get something besides foreboding off him. Then I’m feeling death, which is self-explanatory, considering I’m talking about a dude’s corpse. Then why am I feeling sadness radiate off him, too? Like I lost a sibling.
“No, h-he just reached up. Nessa, get away from him!” he snarls, starting to get between us. Then the dude jumps up with vamp reflexes, grabs Kyle by the neck, and tosses him over his head. Where he crashes into the wall and lies on the ground, not moving.
“Kyle,” I yelp, and would’ve gone over to him if only the dude didn’t pick me up by the throat and slam me against the wall. “Let go of me you naked ass face,” I grunt out, clawing at his arms.
“What are you?” He gets right in my face and breathes in.
Not creepy at all.
“I’m a pit bull,” I snarl and chomp down on his nose. He yells out in pain and slings me away from him, where I tumble to the ground. After shaking my head like the pit bull I am, I scurry over to Kyle, thankfully he’s still breathing.
Then I’m being yanked up by my hair. “Shit, help, need help in here!” I wish someone would be able to hear me. The douche nugget throws me onto the floor, pins me down, and bites down on my neck. Unable to hold it in, I scream at the top of my lungs and beg for him to stop.
Heh, not really, this is me we’re talking about. I do hiss at the pain then I let my anger build up and tighten my hand on his neck. He freezes in place and starts convulsing.
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Musings from Michigan