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Eliza May Brown

Here's a Sample of The Vampire Shooter, which will be available soon.

new boyfriend, and I was contemplating the easiest way to self-destruct.

My options for self-destruction had both expanded and contracted that day, only a few months ago, when I’d been bitten by a vampire. On that day I had looked death in the face and rejected it. I chose to live—and to live on my own terms.

I’m nobody’s victim anymore.

There was a soft knock on my door. “Tawny,” Fox said, “it’s almost time.”

Time to say good-bye to Maestro, the man who had been the only true father figure in my life. I felt a surge of affection for Fox, my blood brother, the closest kin I had left.

I washed the tears off my face and opened my closet. What do you wear to the funeral of the most important man in your life? I had plenty of black, of course, but most of my wardrobe was leather or lycra. Perfect for hunting vampires but not appropriate for a funeral.

Whatever. I reached for a hangar. Since when did I care about what was appropriate? Lycra and leather had always worked for me before, and I would wear whatever pleased me.

Most of my extended dysfunctional family was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. Eyebrows climbed high across pale foreheads and lean jaws set. Shooter looked ready to boil over but my eyes sought out Charmant, the woman who meant more tome than my biological mother ever had.

She didn’t even blink as I walked down the stairs. I resisted the urge to tug on the hem of my tiny skirt and kept my head high.

“I’m not Miss Manners,” she said in her smooth, calm voice, “but shouldn’t you wear underwear to your father’s funeral?”

Thunderclouds gathered across Shooter’s handsome face and I waited for him to say something. Any criticism from him was sure to send me over the edge. I was almost looking forward to the explosion. It would give me a chance to blow off some steam.