Zach Mede, the brilliant detective and famous vampire hunter, had to know I could smell his blood from ten miles away, even if we hadn’t seen each other in two years. He was holed up in a shitty motel, the kind traveling detectives stay in when on a case in a city like New York.
I broke in no problem and found him standing, broad shoulders curled over a cheap desk covered in papers and photos of blood-speckled corpses. He didn’t hear me come in, so I knew the case was big shit, his mind on autopilot. He didn’t even know I was there until I had my hand around his throat and my nose in his hair. Large muscles tensed in my embrace, and I saw him eye the big, fuck-you silver knife on the edge of the desk.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”
Stories always find me. They’re like ghosts that hover above a seance. They’re voices in the mind of a schizophrenic. Plot twists beg to be woven. Characters beg to be shared, but rarely do I come across someone as loud and demanding as Dario: a three-hundred-year-old vampire who accidentally falls in love with vampire hunter Zach Mede. So what do you do in a relationship when one of you is bound to die at the hands of a murderer? Well …
FOREVER DEAD is my newest independent project, not published by a magazine or literary journal. I went my own way this time and published on Amazon. As of today, FOREVER DEAD is available for eBook purchase, and I can’t wait to hear what you think.
Don’t waste a moment. Go shopping. Read something weird, sexy, noir. Escape the mundane and embrace very rational fear and bed-breaking sex.
The cover art was lovingly created by genius of all things Turner G. Davis, and I dedicate this short story to all the gay men I’ve loved (and still do) and vampires (even though Scully says they don’t exist).
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