It's finished!! Proofreaders are going over it now and the third Reapers in Heels book, A GRAVE FULL OF STILETTOS, should be out by the 29th. Worried that you might miss the release date? Just fill out that form to your right and you'll get an email just as soon as the book is available for purchase.
Now, to get you all excited, here's a peek at the first 1,300 words. Be sure to tell all of your friends to buy the book, okay? Thanks.
one
Lori Standford settles in to her chair with a hot cup of tea and good book in hand, preparing herself for a quiet night at home.
Wisps of steam drift off her tea and swirling around, filling her nose with the scent of chamomile. The purple mug reminds her of times past when she graduated from college. Her mother had stood there so proud and clapping so loud as Lori accepted her diploma. The purple mug was waiting for Lori when she got back to her dorm that night. “Word’s Smartest Daughter” is emblazoned on it in thick gold letters.
The memory makes her sad.
It’s only been a few months but the wounds are still raw and not for the first time, Lori wonders if she shouldn’t have just sold her mother’s house, rather than moving in.
It’s a big house, filled with nooks, crannies and ghosts of memories.
Lori shakes her head. No, she did the right thing. It was bad enough to lose her mother. But her childhood home? Lori wasn’t ready to part with everything just yet.
She gently blows on the hot tea, trying to cool it down to a bearable temperature. Hot tea before bed with her mother is a fond memory.
Lori sighs and gives in to the sadness. She misses her mom.
She sets the book aside, there wouldn’t be any reading tonight. No, tonight she is going to let her memories keep her company. Maybe she’d rediscover a forgotten nugget of wisdom her mother had passed down her to her.
Lori smiles. Maybe she’d figure out how to boil water for her tea without burning the roof of her mouth. She’s pretty sure her mother told her once or twice how to get that right.
The noise startles her immediately. At first she thinks it’s a bird flying into one of the upstairs windows.
But then it happens again.
Lori sets her “Word’s Smartest Daughter” mug and gets to her feet.
It’s a pounding noise. A heavy noise, as though someone was dropping a bags of bricks against the floor above her.
Lori walks carefully to the entrance of her living room. She hears whispers now.
Whispers?
“Hello?” Lori calls out. “Is anybody there?”
She feels immediately silly. Of course there’s no one there. It’s just Lori. All alone in the empty house.
Except the pounding noise isn’t coming from outside.
And the whispers aren’t in her head.
“Hello?” Lori says again, stepping into the hallway.
She catches sight of it for a second out of the corner of her eye. It’s a fleeting image, flickering away like a broken movie reel. She forgets about it almost immediately.
The blood dripping from her walls has Lori’s complete attention.
After that, the night’s a blur of screams and nightmares.
