Flashed to Death is available for Pre-Order now and it comes out on Friday, the 27th. Here is an excerpt from the book, tentacles and all….
Excerpt:
Ava rubbed her eyes and tried to think good thoughts about the assclown on the other side of the door. If only she could click her heels together three times and make it so the music would turn off. Her jerk neighbor had seriously screwed with her night. Ava climbed up the stairs to the third level. She thought about knocking on Pam’s door, but her friend wouldn’t be home. Most of the time she worked third shift at the funeral home because Bumpy kept odd hours. Sleep pulled at her body, but she wouldn’t be able to get any until this man turned off his blasted tunes. Ava knocked on the door. Strange though, she couldn’t hear the music from the landing outside. The walls and ceiling in the complex were paper thin.
Gathering her courage, Ava knocked on the door and waited. Nothing. She pounded until her hand hurt. Ava let out a slow breath, trying to remain calm, but heat had already gathered in her chest. What am I going to tell him? Stop beating your drum because I’m trying to sleep. Turn off your bass. It’s making my fishbowl wiggle off the table. The door opened. The jerk wore a black robe opened to show off his pale chest. His hair hung to his shoulders. His blue stare pierced her soul. Steam wafted off a mug in his hand. The scent of peppermint and a mixture of clove and sage drifted outward from the apartment.
“Oh, if it isn’t the cheese snack thrower. What do you want?” He waited in the doorway as if a dragon guarding its gold. Music trilled from his apartment, but it didn’t sound loud enough to be thumping the walls and the floors.
“Can you turn your music down? I’m trying to sleep. It’s blasting through the ceiling.” Ava tried to sound calm and not like she wanted to rip his dick off.
“My music isn’t very loud. Are you sure you’re talking to the right neighbor?”
“Yeah, pretty sure. Look, I understand we got off on the wrong foot, but I’d really like to go to sleep. I’m Ava. I live right below you. I’m not trying to be a bitch.”
“Are you certain?” He smirked and then took a sip of his tea.
She clenched her fists and tried to beat back her building rage. Her palms itched. “What is wrong with you? You were a jerk at the yoga studio this morning, squeezing your ass into the space when there really wasn’t any room next to me. You kept hitting me with every single move, but I kept my mouth shut.” She flashed back to the fountain at the yoga studio and felt the water starting to freeze over. A hot flash blistered her neck and eked into her soul. Ava had to release the buildup no matter what. She bit her lip as the bonfire danced down into her palms. The mug of tea filled her vision.
“There was plenty of room at the yoga studio. I wasn’t being an ass. Nothing’s wrong with me. The question is, what’s wrong with you?” He leaned in a little closer so she could smell the peppermint on his breath.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? You don’t know me.” The heat in her hands boiled like the water had once been in the tea. Yet the liquid in the mug grew cold. Frigid enough to fill the glass until it cracked. He needed to be wearing the liquid. He needed to hurt. The thrum of her anger filled her veins like the thumping which had shaken her walls. The beat of the music inside of his apartment increased as if she stood right next to the speaker. She could feel the bass throbbing along with her heart.
“I’d beg to differ. I’d say you were a frumpy, middle- aged woman who’s lost something, but you’re desperately trying to hold onto it. You think by doing yoga and maybe some kind of fancy cleanse you’ll find whatever you’re looking for.” His lips spread into a smug grin as he leaned in closer until his face was inches from hers. “You have this decaying aroma about you like you’re withering away. Have you buried everything or maybe you’ve dug it back up? Should we find out.”
“Why are you being such a dick?” Ava asked. “I wanted you to turn off your music. Do you find my request too difficult?” The music vibrated in her ears, building the temperature within her until it felt like she held the sun. She focused the fire on the mug in his hands. The burning devoured her. This time she took control of it. He needs to pay for what he said to me. I’m not going to take this from him anymore.
“Sorry. Not going to turn off the music. Tell your witchy friend I’m not interested either. I don’t go for sluts. Maybe you’re really here to throw yourself at me the way she did.”
Ava screamed and went to slap him. At the same time, the energy left her in a great rush of air. The gust tore the jerk’s front door from its hinges and deposited part of it into his living room. His mug of tea fell to the floor and shattered. Ava couldn’t catch her breath. The contents of the mug spread out on the wooden landing, frozen. All the energy drained out of her. She leaned over, gulping in air. Tears streamed down her face from the exertion. She wiped them away as the asshat laughed.
“It’s about fucking time.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ava’s head spun and barely felt like it was attached to her neck. She gripped the wall to keep herself grounded.
“Come inside and we can talk.” He stepped toward her, but she took a step back.
Remember to Pre-Order Flashed to Death if you want to read more of this witchy cozy mystery.
Where to Find Crymsyn: AuthorCon 6 – Feb. 27-March 1st at the Shenanigator Table. Come and see us.