First Chapter - Book
Below is the first chapter of one of my (many) books that I've written and never published. Formatting might be a little off since I copy/pasted it from my documents. Maybe I'll share the first chapter of a few of my books ... haha.
-One-
These are my favorite pair of stilettos and here I am, slogging through a waterlogged cemetery after some two-bit vampire.
I want to scream, but I also want to live. Finally giving in, I pull the heels off, eye the tombstone I'm leaning against, and place them on the cement ledge and continue my hunt.
Lowering myself behind an angel twenty feet away, I pull the 9mm pistol from my thigh sheath and take out the clip. I have three bullets left and have to make them count. Quickly snapping the clip back into the gun, I lean around the corner and take in a deep breath.
The stench is palpable. I am pretty sure this vamp hasn't showered in weeks, maybe even months.
The good thing about the newly reborn is that they are pretty slow on the uptake and barely know how to use their newly acquired talents; smell being key here. Even though I am upwind from him, he has no idea I am here.
I carefully, but quickly, move around the angel, keeping as much of my body lowered as I can.
Luckily, the torrential downpour helps cover the occasional splash I can't help. I'm about two hundred yards from him when I stop. I line up my shot, steadying my arm. I don't want him dead, just incapacitated so he can be taken in. If rehabilitation doesn't work, then he'll be put out of his misery. The head vampire of Saints City doesn’t really care in the end.
My finger presses the trigger and just as I fully compress it, and the bullet leaves the chamber, he bolts, causing the bullet to hit the tree that was just ahead of him.
Cursing under my breath, I dash after him, running at full speed. He can't be that old, as he runs just a little faster than the above-average human.
I note where he's heading and decide to take a detour. I practically slide down an incline that has now become a water slide, and barely stop myself from toppling over and landing face first in the mud.
Taking in a deep breath, I drop behind one of the large catacombs that line this area of the cemetery. Slowing my pace and my breathing, I concentrate on listening.
I hear him splashing down the middle aisle. He seems to realize he's lost me and slows down. I crouch even lower and just wait.
He's making more noise than a fussy newborn. Shaking my head I inch forward toward the main path.
Before he can react, I quickly spin around the corner and shoot. He manages to sidestep the bullet and blast forward, reaching me faster than I expect. His open palms connect with my chest, sending me flying backward.
Not exactly who I planned to hit second base with tonight.
I hit concrete and lose my sight for a moment, my second to last bullet gone. I blink a few times, trying to get the floating stars to go away. Groaning, I stumble upward and grind my teeth.
More sloshing through the mud-this guy is ruining my night. I have one shot left, and I can't waste it.
This time, I have to go at him full throttle.
I’m back up and chasing him again, tapping into my lycan abilities to add a little speed boost to my stride. It takes longer than if I was in full wolf form, but I am finally on his heels.
He throws his head back and laughs. I raise a brow and he shakes his head. “They send a little girl after me… amusing.”
That grinds me the wrong way. I leap into the air and am about to land on his back when he picks up his speed. My fingertips brush the edge of his leather coat before I belly flop into a puddle.
Great-this is also my favorite black dress.
Spitting out a piece of gravel, I make it onto my feet after a couple of failed attempts. Wiping the mud from my eyes, I let out a feral growl and take in a deep breath to calm myself.
Rocking my head back and forth, I work the knots out of my shoulders and tune in more deeply with my wolf half. I don't shift-I don't want to rip him to shreds-yet. I simply focus my senses completely; sight, smell and hearing.
He's about a hundred yards away already and headed toward the river. If he jumps in it, I'll lose him for good, and have to start this mouse chase all over again.
I run at an angle, hoping this time to actually cut him off without incident.
I skid to a stop around a large oak tree.
Normally, maybe on a sunny day and without the rotten stench of death up my nostrils, I might actually enjoy the beauty of this cemetery has to offer. Today is not one of those days.
This time, I wait for him to run by me before I leap and land on his back. He slips, causing us both to drop, me getting mud all over me yet again.
We struggle in a wonderful puddle of chilled water, but I eventually get the upper hand. Pressing the pistol's muzzle against his temple I glare down at him.
“Stop moving or I blow your brains out. You can't come back from that vamp boy.” His body remains perfectly still below me. “Good boy.” I pat his cheek, making a wet slapping sound.
“Now, you've given me quite a run for my money, and I don't appreciate having my pretty clothes ruined.” I remove a small dagger from the sheath on my left thigh and place it flush against his throat. “You're lucky the Marquis of this city has already called dibs on you, or your head would come clean off.”
He laughs and I find myself irritated enough that my wolf-half growls past my lips, “What's so funny?”
He shakes his head. “You are ever the dutiful pet, Zoey.”
I frown. He knows my name, and I don't like that. I slip the tip of the dagger into his neck, barely missing his artery. Marcus said alive, he didn't say in good shape.
He flinches, but his smugness doesn't leave his face.
“I don't need to hear anything from those filthy lips.” I make the grand spectacle of sniffing his chest. “You really should invest in this amazing invention called soap.”
I whack the flat edge of the blade against his left cheek, hard enough to leave a red imprint.
Taking my pistol, I press it against his neck and fire.
The tranquilizer sinks into his neck and beneath his skin, slowly releasing a chemical that will immobilize him long enough for transport.
It takes roughly a minute for it to actually take effect, and then my body completely relaxes. I roll off of him, and sitting on my knees in a ditch of mud, I press the ear piece. “Jack Phillips is ready for pick up.”
Flipping open a small watch-looking container on my wrist, I pull out a sliver of plastic with a microscopic locator and slap it on the vamps head. Pressing it into his forehead with my thumb print initiates the beacon, which blinks red to tell me its working.
Crawling to a stand, I let out a ragged breath and begin my trek back to the main road.
As I slip out of the clearing, I catch the amused look on my sometimes partner's face. I raise a finger and point it at Caleb, throwing on my meanest stare.
“Don’t. Say. A. Word.” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder and mutter, “Go fetch.”
I ignore his laughter as he passes me and heads off to do the easy part.
“Oh,” I pause and turn to eye his retreating back. “Stop by Julia Arthur's tombstone and pick up my pumps.”
I don't wait for a response.
My beat-up pathfinder is parked on one of the side streets so it takes me another five minutes to reach it. Opening the trunk, I ruffle through the bag I kept in the back with spare clothes and find a clean pair of leggings and a simple t-shirt. I didn’t want to risk losing him, or else I would have changed before that stupid, and admittedly ridiculous, chase scene.
Being as it is three in the morning I quickly change right there on the street and then jump into my car. My earpiece vibrates.
Every inch of me is aching with exhaustion, but still press it-I never learn.
“McKenzie, report in,” a gruff voice commands.
I can't even make excuses as the line cuts off before I can open my mouth. My boss can be a real dick.
Starting up my car, I pull a U-turn and head back into the city. It is going to be a long night.
-One-
These are my favorite pair of stilettos and here I am, slogging through a waterlogged cemetery after some two-bit vampire.
I want to scream, but I also want to live. Finally giving in, I pull the heels off, eye the tombstone I'm leaning against, and place them on the cement ledge and continue my hunt.
Lowering myself behind an angel twenty feet away, I pull the 9mm pistol from my thigh sheath and take out the clip. I have three bullets left and have to make them count. Quickly snapping the clip back into the gun, I lean around the corner and take in a deep breath.
The stench is palpable. I am pretty sure this vamp hasn't showered in weeks, maybe even months.
The good thing about the newly reborn is that they are pretty slow on the uptake and barely know how to use their newly acquired talents; smell being key here. Even though I am upwind from him, he has no idea I am here.
I carefully, but quickly, move around the angel, keeping as much of my body lowered as I can.
Luckily, the torrential downpour helps cover the occasional splash I can't help. I'm about two hundred yards from him when I stop. I line up my shot, steadying my arm. I don't want him dead, just incapacitated so he can be taken in. If rehabilitation doesn't work, then he'll be put out of his misery. The head vampire of Saints City doesn’t really care in the end.
My finger presses the trigger and just as I fully compress it, and the bullet leaves the chamber, he bolts, causing the bullet to hit the tree that was just ahead of him.
Cursing under my breath, I dash after him, running at full speed. He can't be that old, as he runs just a little faster than the above-average human.
I note where he's heading and decide to take a detour. I practically slide down an incline that has now become a water slide, and barely stop myself from toppling over and landing face first in the mud.
Taking in a deep breath, I drop behind one of the large catacombs that line this area of the cemetery. Slowing my pace and my breathing, I concentrate on listening.
I hear him splashing down the middle aisle. He seems to realize he's lost me and slows down. I crouch even lower and just wait.
He's making more noise than a fussy newborn. Shaking my head I inch forward toward the main path.
Before he can react, I quickly spin around the corner and shoot. He manages to sidestep the bullet and blast forward, reaching me faster than I expect. His open palms connect with my chest, sending me flying backward.
Not exactly who I planned to hit second base with tonight.
I hit concrete and lose my sight for a moment, my second to last bullet gone. I blink a few times, trying to get the floating stars to go away. Groaning, I stumble upward and grind my teeth.
More sloshing through the mud-this guy is ruining my night. I have one shot left, and I can't waste it.
This time, I have to go at him full throttle.
I’m back up and chasing him again, tapping into my lycan abilities to add a little speed boost to my stride. It takes longer than if I was in full wolf form, but I am finally on his heels.
He throws his head back and laughs. I raise a brow and he shakes his head. “They send a little girl after me… amusing.”
That grinds me the wrong way. I leap into the air and am about to land on his back when he picks up his speed. My fingertips brush the edge of his leather coat before I belly flop into a puddle.
Great-this is also my favorite black dress.
Spitting out a piece of gravel, I make it onto my feet after a couple of failed attempts. Wiping the mud from my eyes, I let out a feral growl and take in a deep breath to calm myself.
Rocking my head back and forth, I work the knots out of my shoulders and tune in more deeply with my wolf half. I don't shift-I don't want to rip him to shreds-yet. I simply focus my senses completely; sight, smell and hearing.
He's about a hundred yards away already and headed toward the river. If he jumps in it, I'll lose him for good, and have to start this mouse chase all over again.
I run at an angle, hoping this time to actually cut him off without incident.
I skid to a stop around a large oak tree.
Normally, maybe on a sunny day and without the rotten stench of death up my nostrils, I might actually enjoy the beauty of this cemetery has to offer. Today is not one of those days.
This time, I wait for him to run by me before I leap and land on his back. He slips, causing us both to drop, me getting mud all over me yet again.
We struggle in a wonderful puddle of chilled water, but I eventually get the upper hand. Pressing the pistol's muzzle against his temple I glare down at him.
“Stop moving or I blow your brains out. You can't come back from that vamp boy.” His body remains perfectly still below me. “Good boy.” I pat his cheek, making a wet slapping sound.
“Now, you've given me quite a run for my money, and I don't appreciate having my pretty clothes ruined.” I remove a small dagger from the sheath on my left thigh and place it flush against his throat. “You're lucky the Marquis of this city has already called dibs on you, or your head would come clean off.”
He laughs and I find myself irritated enough that my wolf-half growls past my lips, “What's so funny?”
He shakes his head. “You are ever the dutiful pet, Zoey.”
I frown. He knows my name, and I don't like that. I slip the tip of the dagger into his neck, barely missing his artery. Marcus said alive, he didn't say in good shape.
He flinches, but his smugness doesn't leave his face.
“I don't need to hear anything from those filthy lips.” I make the grand spectacle of sniffing his chest. “You really should invest in this amazing invention called soap.”
I whack the flat edge of the blade against his left cheek, hard enough to leave a red imprint.
Taking my pistol, I press it against his neck and fire.
The tranquilizer sinks into his neck and beneath his skin, slowly releasing a chemical that will immobilize him long enough for transport.
It takes roughly a minute for it to actually take effect, and then my body completely relaxes. I roll off of him, and sitting on my knees in a ditch of mud, I press the ear piece. “Jack Phillips is ready for pick up.”
Flipping open a small watch-looking container on my wrist, I pull out a sliver of plastic with a microscopic locator and slap it on the vamps head. Pressing it into his forehead with my thumb print initiates the beacon, which blinks red to tell me its working.
Crawling to a stand, I let out a ragged breath and begin my trek back to the main road.
As I slip out of the clearing, I catch the amused look on my sometimes partner's face. I raise a finger and point it at Caleb, throwing on my meanest stare.
“Don’t. Say. A. Word.” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder and mutter, “Go fetch.”
I ignore his laughter as he passes me and heads off to do the easy part.
“Oh,” I pause and turn to eye his retreating back. “Stop by Julia Arthur's tombstone and pick up my pumps.”
I don't wait for a response.
My beat-up pathfinder is parked on one of the side streets so it takes me another five minutes to reach it. Opening the trunk, I ruffle through the bag I kept in the back with spare clothes and find a clean pair of leggings and a simple t-shirt. I didn’t want to risk losing him, or else I would have changed before that stupid, and admittedly ridiculous, chase scene.
Being as it is three in the morning I quickly change right there on the street and then jump into my car. My earpiece vibrates.
Every inch of me is aching with exhaustion, but still press it-I never learn.
“McKenzie, report in,” a gruff voice commands.
I can't even make excuses as the line cuts off before I can open my mouth. My boss can be a real dick.
Starting up my car, I pull a U-turn and head back into the city. It is going to be a long night.