Bite the Big One!

By Sharon Karaa

Romance, Paranormal, Women's fiction | eBook


He told me he was a gardener; a landscape gardener, no less. Not once did me mention “slash vampire slayer”. I’m pretty sure if he had, the sexy eyes and bulging biceps wouldn’t have looked quite so appealing. Mind you, who was I to talk? When I was a child, I wanted to be a ballet dancer, or a gymnast, or even a swordfish (admittedly I was suffering from hallucinations brought on by a fever at the time). I never, ever, in my wildest moments, thought that when I grew up, I’d be the chronicle of the dead. Nor would I have wanted to. The dead don’t keep office hours and certainly don’t respect your privacy when you’re on the loo. And they don’t pay. I had to resort to selling sex aids to geriatrics just to keep a roof over my head. On the plus side, I was never out of work. There was always a queue of them (the dead that is, not geriatrics). Wherever you turned they were there, waiting their turn, wanting to pass on the messages they hadn’t had the forethought to pass on before they did. But someone didn’t want one of the messages to be delivered. Someone who wasn’t entirely in the land of the living themselves. Someone who was willing to go to extreme lengths to shut me up. On top of all that, I had to spend my days dodging the ill-conceived spells my best friend cast in her quest to ensure I achieved the ultimate in sexual satisfaction (my advice? Don’t tell your friend if you’ve never had a Big O, especially if she’s a witch!). And now my dog’s back-answering me as well. As if I didn’t have enough to cope with, what with my father’s mid-life crisis and being stalked by said vampire slayer. Someone please give me fate’s address…I feel a strongly worded letter coming on!


Less...

He told me he was a gardener; a landscape gardener, no less. Not once did me mention “slash vampire slayer”. I’m pretty sure if he had, the sexy eyes and bulging biceps wouldn’t have looked quite so appealing. Mind you, who was I to talk? When I was a child, I wanted to be a ballet dancer, or a gymnast, or even a swordfish (admittedly I was suffering from hallucinations brought on by a fever at the time). I never, ever, in my wildest moments, thought that when I grew up, I’d be the chronicle of the dead. Nor would I have wanted to. The dead don’t keep office hours and certainly don’t respect your privacy when you’re on the loo. And they don’t pay. I had to resort to selling sex aids to geriatrics just to keep a roof over my head. On the plus side, I was never out of work. There...


More...


Sharon Karaa is a mass of contradictions but two facets of her character have always battled for supremacy; her logical self (let's call him Frank) and her artistic side (lets her call Misty). Until recently, Frank won every battle, forcing Sharon into a life based on most probable outcome and to give him his credit, it has led to a fairly comfortable if rather boring life, so far. Then Misty took up kick boxing and gave Frank a good kick in the goodies. Sharon lives with her husband in a little village north of Newcastle upon Tyne, England. She doesn't have a cat.


Less...

Sharon Karaa is a mass of contradictions but two facets of her character have always battled for supremacy; her logical self (let's call him Frank) and her artistic side (lets her call Misty). Until recently, Frank won every battle, forcing Sharon into a life based on most probable outcome and to give him his credit, it has led to a fairly comfortable if rather boring life, so far. Then Mist...


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