Thursday Teaser – Errand Girl of the Undead


Thought you guys might like a little taste of what I’m working on at the moment.  Remember though, what I’m posting is very much a rough draft so ignore any typos or grammar issues I may have missed! Ha!   Enjoy.


A mountain of blood bags fell at my feet making a sloppy sound. Good thing none of them broke. I’d be seriously late for school if I had to stop and clean up that mess.

I suppose I should know better than to throw open the fridge door. It’s hardly the first time it’s happened, but I’m running late, dammit, and unlike others in this house I need to eat real food before starting my day.

Besides, I figured Josiah leaves them on the door, where it’s easy for them to slide, as a reminder. A sick kind of joke so I wouldn’t forget O negative–which just happened to be my blood type–was his favorite. He probably thought it a sweet gesture: “Look Ellie! I love you so much that I will drink this cold dead blood rather than you. Isn’t that nice of me?”

Shaking my head I bent to pick up the mess, tossing the squishy bags into the crisper–Where else would you have me put them? At least they’re kind of out of sight there–and grabbed a bag of apple slices and a peanut butter cup.

“Well that’s a view I’d love to wake up to every morning.”

That sudden annoying voice had me snapping to attention, smacking my head on the handle of the freezer above me. Curses in several languages escaped me.

“Dammit Samson, must you be such a letch so early in the morning? You darn near gave me a concussion.” My head was throbbing and it felt like a horn was going to sprout from my brow. Thank gods for bangs.

Before I could blink he was in front of me, in all his blue-skinned glory, brushing my bangs aside to check out the damage.  It was a surprisingly tender gesture from a demon who wanted to ravage me one day and slay me the next.

“Sadly, you’ll live,” he said, putting on a ridiculous pout. My knee itched to come into contact with the space between his legs–even demons have family jewels folks, and I’m not talking the sparkly kind–but I planted my hands on his chest and gave him a push.

“Quit invading my personal space.” There was a breathe of relief when I was able to step around his formidable form. Keeping my back to him–which probably wasn’t the smartest idea–I rummaged in the drawer for a breakfast bar. Missing dinner last night had made me ravenous this morning. Turning, I addressed him.

“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be tucked away in demon slumber land after a night of debauchery or something?”

He smirked and grabbed his tail–yes, I said tail–twirling it around like a Dandy would his cane. “So sassy early in the morning. Perhaps I should stop by at this time more often.”

Irritation levels were rising. A vein throbbed an angry beat on my forehead. Grabbing my bag from the back of a chair, I threw it over my shoulder.

“I don’t have time for this, Samson. I’m going to be late.”  Angry stomping led me out of the kitchen.  There was a faint crackling sound and the scent of sulfur wafted my way. A clearing throat had me looking towards the front door. Where Samson was casual lounging. Blocking my way. Damn demons and their teleportation bullcrap.

He must have sensed I was nearing my breaking point because he stuck an arm out. A thick creamy white card appeared between his gloved fingers.

“A job for you,” he said, standing perfectly still.

My brow furrowed but I couldn’t help but reach for the rich looking paper.  This wasn’t how I typically got my jobs, hand delivered to my home, and certainly not by Samson who had ridiculed and rallied against my profession from day one.

The paper was thick and smooth under the pads of my fingers.  I looked up at Samson, questioning his part in it without words.  He had an expression I couldn’t decipher but before I could ask, there was the telltale cracking and cloud of stink announcing his departure.  Very strange indeed.

13 responses »

  1. Wow, first person! It’s funny, and sounds like an interesting read! I have struggled so much trying to use it over the years that I’ve mostly given up. It always feels fake when I’m the one writing it since I’m not ACTUALLY the character speaking. My hyper-rationality strikes again!

    • Thanks 🙂

      I never used to be able to do it either. Certain stories just seem to call for certain things and feel forced in other ways. Maybe you’ll come across something eventually that will scream for you to tell it that way 😀

      • Good luck with the story! It will definitely be interesting to see the story play out from your narrator’s POV.
        I hope you’re right that one day I’ll work my way into first person somehow–maybe after I’ve been writing another decade or two–but for now, it’s probably best I stick with being the omnipotent puppet-master 3rd person narrator! [cue maniacal laugh] 😉

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