Yule be Haunted

Excerpt

A CHRISTMAS BITE

My name is Lucy Mitchell, and I’m a vampire magnet. No matter what I do or where I go, they find me.

My story actually four years, three days, two hours and twenty-five minutes ago, when the first vampire moved to Navarre Falls, Alabama. I lived in Navarre Falls and apparently had some freakin' tasty blood, at least that's what the vamps thought.

Being nineteen hadn’t been easy so far. One second I obsessed over working enough to pay half my college tuition, the next, I avoided hungry fangs to stay alive to see the ripe old age of twenty.

Fortunately, I had Rambo, twenty-four pounds of calico cat that hunted vampire bats and eliminated them before they could bother me. Unfortunately, Rambo liked to sleep a lot, so I remained on full alert just in case he snoozed or one got past his extra-sharp ears.
He slept on a cat-sized daybed in the living room of my ratty apartment. I called it that because of the ancient furniture, but I actually loved the place. Though nothing special, it meant I'd finally gained independence from my overly protective parents. Even better, a super cute guy had just moved in next door to me, so life seemed good for the moment.

Late one Friday night I sat curled up with a good book, Vampires Strike Back, when a frigid breeze fanned my face. Glancing over to the window, I found it slightly open. I slipped from bed, cringing when my toasty feet hit the icy wooden floor, and tiptoed quickly to my desk.

Peering out the glass, I saw tons of white snow flurries, so I raised the window a little more and leaned out, breathing in the most wonderful scent in the world—winter’s crisp air. When a chill started at the base of my neck and worked down to my feet, I closed the window and climbed back in bed.

With the fuzzy blanket up to my ears, I started reading again. Suddenly something crashed violently into the window. I jumped up to look out again and found a small brown bat, lying helpless in the snow-covered ledge, its eyes closed. Fearing it dead, I raised the window and poked it with a pencil.

The beady red eyes popped open. Eeep!

JINGLE BELL SPELL

I chose to write my final senior paper on witches because I'd always wanted to be one. Oh, not the black-pointy-hat-with-a-broomstick kind, but a girl who knew spells that could make people happy. I'd undoubtedly be surrounded by classmates clamoring for help with lousy grades, bothersome siblings, or stubborn parents, not to mention their love lives. Popular sounded good at the moment, even if it resulted from notoriety. At least I wouldn't be sitting alone in the snow the Friday before Christmas break, eating PBJ on stale bread and wishing the two friends I did have, Sean and Annabel, hadn't had other lunch plans today.

Five months. That's all I had left in the hellhole otherwise known as Waite Hills High School. Then I'd break free from everything and head for North Berwick College, thanks to the free tuition perk offered to their professors. Not that I couldn't have earned a scholarship. I totally could. I had brains--so many that I had no social life. Who could love the girl whose test scores set the grading curve?

Today I shivered under a maple tree in the schoolyard with fifteen minutes left before fourth period. Snowflakes drifted in the breeze, but the crisp air felt so wonderful I didn't want to head indoors yet. I decided I'd walk to the college library and do a little research on my way home that afternoon, even though my paper had an April deadline. As a student already admitted for the upcoming fall, I could check out books whenever I wanted. I could also guy gaze a little. My tastes these days ran to mature college males too smart to judge females based on their willingness to put out.

I wound up getting to the college library around four because I stopped at my favorite bookstore, Page to Page, on the way in search of used volumes on witches. Since the Honda place had my car for repairs and Dad taught a southern history night class on Fridays, I planned to ride home with him after it ended at eight. That left hours for me to look over the books I'd found and get started making notes.

I'd been sitting at Dad's desk with my stack of materials about thirty minutes when I heard someone start singing in the next office. I recognized the lyrics. So Abner Carmichael, the world history teacher, liked the Black Eyed Peas. Who knew? I peeked through the connecting door to say "Hi" and tease him about it, but I didn't find him in the office. Instead, I saw a guy on a ladder, painting a high corner of the east wall--undoubtedly one of the students who worked on campus for tuition. I saw he had in ear buds, which meant an iPod and explained the music choice.

I watched him for a few seconds, appreciating his perfect size. Large, well-proportioned males always caught my eye. When this one turned in my direction, I jumped out of sight and returned to my books even though I really, really wanted to see if his front side looked as good as the back of him.

With fifty percent of my concentration still on the painter, I sat down and picked up a slim volume I'd found in a box full of old books at Page to Page. It looked ancient and well read. The hand-printed title, A Book of Spells, had caught my eye. And though it really wouldn't offer me anything I could use in my paper, I felt drawn to it.

I found a name written inside with what looked like a quill pen: Brigit O'Keefe. I found recipes for potions and charms, all meticulously written out by hand with lots of curlicues. I also found a list of magic phrases that looked like they might be in German.

Feeling very stupid, I said the first word I came to: "Muskeln frieren."

Thud!

Before the floor stopped shaking, I stood in Abner's office looking for the source of that awful crash. I saw the student painter lying flat on his back on the floor.

HOLIDAY HAUNTING

I hurried out of the store. For the third time that week, I had stayed late at work, and I knew my mother would kill me if I didn’t make it home for dinner on time. Glancing at my watch, I didn’t see the hulking giant in front of me.

“Oof!” My feet slid on the icy sidewalk and I would have gone sprawling if the guy hadn’t caught me.

Clinging to his arms, I looked up, struck dumb by both his size and good looks. I’d never seen a guy as gorgeous, or as intimidating as him. Compared to my five-foot height, he was a walking mountain.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest, sending shivers through me – the good kind.

I nodded, not able to trust me voice to work. I’d never been great around guys to begin with, except for my best friend, Sean. But Sean most definitely didn’t look anything like this guy.

“I’m sorry for bumping into you,” he said with a grin.

I finally found my voice. “No, I’m the one who ran into you. That’s what I get for not watching where I walk.”

His hands slid down my arms and he took a step back. I had to crane my neck to look up at him, but found it worth the slight pain. He looked like a god with tousled shoulder length blond hair and bright blue eyes.

When he smiled a moment later, I realized I’d been staring. I felt my face heat in a blush and ducked my head. “Sorry. I should be going.”

I skirted past him, but he grabbed my arm, making me look up at him in surprise.

“Don’t I at least get to know your name?” he asked.

“Annabel,” I answered softly.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

I felt my blush deepen, my whole face feeling as if it were on fire, and I just knew my face resembled a hot chili pepper. “I wouldn’t go that far.”