Suck My Life: A Paranormal Chick Lit Novel Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Hex Factor

  About Andie

  Andie's Other Books

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Copyright © 2020 by Andrea Long.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Tammy Clarke.

  Formatting by Tammy Clarke.

  In memory of Rachel Caine.

  In gratitude of the twenty-six letters she weaved magic with over and over again.

  Thank you.

  Mya

  Sometimes we had to make tough choices in life.

  Like whether to pay the credit card bill or buy the on sale Louboutins.

  I was so glad that I’d chosen the Louboutins that month.

  Because I wouldn’t need to worry about paying the credit card bill, and I’d face another tough choice. Where this one had been about being good or being tempted by red soles, the next would be red blood and bad souls.

  Suck my life.

  I walked into the bookshop where I worked and I sighed a happy sigh. I loved it here in the medium-sized popular chain bookstore with its bright lights and darkened corners, occasional chairs, and coffee shop upstairs. The smell of coffee wafted downstairs regularly, along with a clatter of coffee mugs.

  Some people would go grab a coffee first. Especially if the day was wet and cold, they’d go warm themselves up before purchase. But most took their bags of newly bought books upstairs with them. Every single day at some point I’d wander upstairs to spy at the individuals in their seats pouring over their new purchases and smile, happy that during my working day our store had brought joy to people’s lives. I was a big believer in manifesting and you being put on earth for a reason, and I’d smile to myself thinking that this was it. My soul’s purpose was to guide people towards the twenty-six letters jumbled in a miracle of a fresh story that would lift and enthral.

  “Any chance you could stop blocking the doorway and actually start work?” Cathy, my supervisor stood in front of me with a raised brow and a hand on her tilted hip. She shook her head at me and laughed. “Every damn day, girl. You live in a daydream.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I just love my job and my workplace. I like to start by being thankful for the day I’m on and commit to bringing some happiness to others.”

  “Yeah, well then get your coat and bag put away and start doing exactly that with our customers.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her but went to put my things in my locker.

  Behind the counter, I looked out over the store to see who was in already. Which customers knew exactly what they were looking for, heading with intent and purpose to the shelves; and which weren’t sure but knew that somewhere in this store there was the answer to their yearning. A middle-aged woman was pulling books out of the travel section, intent but debating which was the better guide and would lead to a better holiday. I saw one of my colleagues, Jenny, stroll over to her, and a look of relief hit the woman’s features as Jenny asked her the questions which would ensure her holiday from an itinerary point of view was the best planned ever.

  “Excuse me?”

  I turned to the right-hand side of the counter where a slim, tall, dark-haired man stood. My heart rate quickened because this guy was hot. He looked like he could use some red meat, but his eyes were the green of an emerald, framed by long lashes. He smiled from his pink pouty lips, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth.

  “Can I help you?” I asked him.

  “Oh yes please. I’m wondering where I’d find Rachel Caine’s books?”

  This man read paranormal? Was he the man of my dreams? Had I actually managed to manifest him?

  “Paranormal and Fantasy is over there.” I pointed towards the rear of the store.

  “And that’s where I’d find her vampire books? The Morganville series.”

  “Oh they’re upstairs as they’re classed as teenage. I’ll take you up there and show you where they are.”

  “That would be great, only I’ve heard good things about them. Got to love a vampire, haven’t you?”

  “Absolutely,” I grinned. It wasn’t every day a hottie walked into the store.

  I told Cathy with a nudge to her arm and a nod of my head that I was off to help the customer as she was serving someone. She did a surreptitious placing of her hands on her thighs, both hands, all ten digits. She rated Hottie a ten out of ten. With a quick grin, she returned her attention to her customer. I returned my attention to mine.

  “Okay, let’s show you the goods, err, books. I mean, show you the books.”

  Hottie grinned at me, indicating up the stairs. “After you.”

  I focused on trying to not trip over my own feet and not being tempted to wiggle my butt in his face. Only it had been a while, over a year in fact, since I’d wiggled anything near anyone. As I approached the teenage section, which was lacking in teenage girls seeing as they would be at school right now, I was shocked to find another hot guy in the section already. What the actual fuck? Was I still asleep and having some kind of sex dream? Would I be taking my clothes off next and indulging in a hot threesome with the two of them?

  Hottie looked at me and licked his top lip and gave me a wink as if he’d just read my mind. I felt my cheeks burn. I’d not said any of my thoughts out loud, had I?

  “Excuse me.” I addressed the second hottie, who I would now mentally call Broody because he was. “Could I just reach up to get a book down?”

  “Allow me,” he said. “What would you like?”

  I took in Broody. He was tall and his hair was so brown it was almost black. His eyes were pools of chocolate I wanted to dive into like I was a marshmallow. I felt just as soft and gooey near him. He had a healthy bronzed glow to his cheeks and whereas Hottie was all sculptured cheekbones and cover model, Broody was athletic and ripped.

  “If you could grab me Glass Houses by Rachel Caine, please?”

  He did so, the sleeve of his long, black leather coat catching the strip-lighting slightly. He needed a lesson in dressing really. It was a bit over the top. He wore black jeans, a black polo neck, black leather boots and then this long leather coat. He was going for sophisticated and coming off Batman Cosplay.

  Do not think of sexy Batman fantasies, Mya! Oops, too late.

  Anyway, I needed to pull my attention away from Broody because Hottie was patiently waiting for his book.

  Broody passed me the book, his gaze intent on my face like he was performing an X-ray. He made me feel a tad uncomfortable and so I beckoned for Hottie to move towards one of the tub chairs we had in situ a few metres nearby.

  “Here you go. This is the first in the series. Why don’t you take a seat and read the description? Take all the time you need. Also, there’s no pressure to purchase. If you don’t want it just return it to the shelf and have a look at the other books up there. There are quite a few I recommend. I personally love that genre.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, it all started with watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel reruns. I started reading books in the genre and I was hooked.”

  Hottie placed the book down by his side, his attention fully on my face instead. “I know this is completely unprofessional, but would you let me take you out to dinner? Only, I’d be really interested in hearing what other books you recommend, and TV shows, and, well, I just think we’d get along.” He trailed off, not making eye contact now. Then he held a hand up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that. You’re helping me because it’s your job and I overstepped. I will purchase the book and leave you to get on with your day.”

  “I’d love to go out with you,” I blurted out before he could change his mind.

  He looked back up at me. “You would?”

  I nodded. “Yes, like you said, we seem to have common interests. At the very least we can talk about paranormal reads, can’t we?”

  “How about I book us a table at Moore’s, the bistro, for eight?”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes, why not? Before another man comes along and makes you change your mind.”

  My thoughts drifted to Broody, whose body I could still see from the corner of my eye.

  “Okay.”

  Hottie took out his mobile phone from his pocket and handed it to me. “Put your number in there and I’ll text you once I’ve confirmed a table.”

  I saw he’d already typed in Mya, because of course my name was on the badge I wore on my black work bl
ouse.

  I typed in my number and handed my phone back to him.

  “Excellent. So, Mya, I guess seeing as we’re going on a date tonight, I should properly introduce myself.” He held out a hand, and I shook it. Gosh, his hand was cold. The winter chill outside must have worsened since I came into the store this morning if his hands were still cold now. “I’m Lawrence. But my friends call me Lawrie, and you’re a new friend, right?”

  “Right.” I smiled.

  We dropped hands. “Okay, so if you want to look over that book and when you’re ready, head down to the desk.”

  “Thank you, but I already know I’m buying it, because you recommended it. Then I’m going to go home and read as much as I can before we meet tonight so we can talk about it over dinner.”

  I was just ready to head back downstairs with him when Broody called me over.

  “Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt, but do you have any books with death in them?”

  I stood stock still. I mean there were millions of books with death in them, in all guises.

  “I’ll leave you to it and make my way to the cash desk. See you at eight,” Lawrie said.

  “Okay.” Disappointment flowed through my veins like a morphine drip, numbing my excitement as Lawrie stepped away from me, giving a small wave as he went downstairs to pay. Oh well, at least I’d see him later.

  I turned back to Broody, once again struck by his own mega hotness.

  The dude was forgiven for the interruption because he was MIGHTY FINE.

  “Could you be a little more specific?” I asked him. “Like there’s death in so many books. Almost all of these paranormal books will feature some gruesome demise.”

  “Ah, actually I meant Death as in him being a character.”

  My interest level perked up another level. “Ohhh. Like the Grim Reaper?”

  “Or just Death. You know, as the hero maybe in one of these books.”

  “Death as the hero?” I tilted my head. This was a new one and I’d been asked many weird questions in this store during my career here.

  “Or love interest.”

  Broody is a weirdo, I thought, glad I had a date with the other hot guy. But, even so, he was still interested in my fave genre and I could satisfy another customer. Just not in the Batman fantasy way my mind kept trying to take me back to. Later, mind, later!

  “There are actually a couple of series where the character of Death is a potential love interest, though it’s rare. We don’t carry the titles, but being a ravenous reader of the genre, I have come across them. If you’d like to come downstairs to a computer with me, I’ll do a quick search for you and we can order to the store if you like?”

  “That would be perfect,” he replied.

  “Okay, follow me,” I told him.

  Wait until Cathy got a look at this one. Fingers and thumbs wouldn’t be enough for marks out of ten. I’d have to see if she also turned up her toes.

  Alas, I’d find out later, it wouldn’t be Cathy turning up her toes.

  No, that would be me.

  Death

  The worst part of my job was not being able to warn people about their impending death.

  I had some control over the situation, some power as Death himself, but most of it was in the pages of The Book of the Dead.

  Yes, there was a book. The ancient tome with its faded brown cover sat at home on my desk. Its pages were blank until you asked for information. In recent times, an app had been developed, so now I could bring up whatever intel I needed on my iPhone, but I still loved looking through the original, taking in the smell of the old pages. Death and decay was my thing after all.

  The Book of the Dead had revealed that tonight, after her restaurant date, Mya Malone was going to die.

  Her death wouldn’t be by chocolate.

  Nor the ‘little death’ of a climax.

  Nope, it would come via the canines and mouth of the vampire she’d just agreed to eat dinner with.

  She would be his main meal.

  For someone who said she was knowledgeable about her favourite genre, she’d not managed to notice even though she’d touched him, that the guy was cold due to his undead, non-beating heart. But the woman still had options, because I had a job to offer her.

  I just needed to finish checking out her suitability for the post.

  She tapped into the computer. Proficient with a keyboard. That was good. An information gatherer. Perfect.

  Pretty with an enticing smile.

  Down boy. You’re Death. It’s pathetic that you asked this woman about romance reads because you’ve only dated once since you took on the role. It tended to put future dates off. They all feared I was going to take their souls.

  “I’ll just write down these titles and authors for you,” Mya grabbed a pen and paper and started writing. Neat penmanship. Excellent. “The ones I’ve put an asterisk at the side of I’ve read myself and highly recommend.” She passed me the list. “Let me know which you’d like me to order to store.”

  I took the list and put it in my pocket. “Thank you. I’ll go check them out and if any are suitable, I’ll come back and place an order.”

  “Oh, okay.” She didn’t believe me. I could tell in her tone. A resigned monotone from hearing it before. She no doubt thought I’d just order them online after finding the best price. Which I would do. I’d have no reason to come back into this store after today because Mya wouldn’t be here.

  “So what was your opinion on Death as a romantic partner?” I asked. Temptation had got too much.

  “I enjoyed the book. Death was as good a love interest as any.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and then I broke out into a huge smile. She looked a little taken aback. It was true I didn’t smile very often. Didn’t really go with the job, Oh I’ve come to collect your soul, accompanied by a big toothy grin, yeah, wasn’t going to cut it.

  “Goodbye. Thanks once again,” I added, and then I left the store.

  I travelled home to Gnarly Fell, a village just on the London border. It was a small village with under a hundred inhabitants if you didn’t include the wayward souls I lived with. This was what I sought help with. I don’t know if it was due to a general dissatisfaction of present day life, but an increasing amount of souls were stuck between Heaven and Hell. And when that happened, they stayed at the Home of Wayward Souls, also known as my current abode.

  I needed a Queen for the place. There had not been one for many years, since the last Death was in power. I’d preferred to live alone until now—well as alone as I could be—but it was time to look for a housemate. My job was busy enough.

  I was hoping Mya Malone would accept the role.

  Walking upstairs to the second floor, men and women stalked the corridors in various stages of translucence. Spirits could touch certain things like door handles, but while they could use a computer to research rules of the dead, they couldn’t send a loved one an email that said, ‘Hi, babe. I’m currently in purgatory. I’ll let you know when I get to my final resting place. Bye’.

  Spence walked towards me, his right foot dragging along the floor. His white hair looked like bed head, his fringe floppily hitting him in his yellowed eyes. “Are you letting me go today, ya bastard?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him as we caught up to each other. He grinned at me, showing his rotten front teeth.

  “That would depend on whether you’ve decided which side of good and evil you’re coming down on, as you well know.”

  “I still don’t give a rat’s ass that Jake Marauder walked the plank and drowned, if that’s what yer getting at.”

  “But you gave away the treasure you got off him to help the family whose daughter needed a physician and saved her life,” I repeated for the umpteenth time. “So here we are. Did you do a good deed, or a bad one? Which outweighs the other? You decide. While you regret nothing, you stay here with me.”