Publication date: March 5th 2013
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance
Aiden Grant is seventeen, has a killer kiss, and a boss who used to be President, back in the old days. You see, Aiden is a grim reaper and his kiss welcomes the newly dead. But Aiden’s pleasant grim reaper lifestyle is in jeopardy. And it’s not only because Honest Abe keeps throwing out history lessons with reaping assignments, just to confuse him. It’s because Aiden’s next assignment is to reap the soul of Bee, the only girl he has ever loved.
When Aiden’s kiss of death fails, intertwining their souls, Bee is still very much alive and they are both in trouble. The ancients want Bee, who has special powers of her own, and they’ll do anything to get her.
Some rules are meant to be broken—even if that means Aiden must bargain with his own soul to save Bee. Who knew the afterlife could get so complicated?
Excerpt From Chapter 1:
I
grinned at the old man. The dim grey light of his aura flickered. He lay
motionless in the hospital bed with thin white sheets that clung to his
long, scrawny body. His face was sunken in, leaving his cheekbones visible.
Heck, a pile of dog crap sitting on a black tarred parking lot on a mid-summer
day looked better.
“It’s
time to die, old man. Tell you what, I’m feeling lenient and I’ll give you
about five seconds to tell the little hottie sitting next to you goodbye.”
He
looked up to meet his guide to the other side: me. I, Aiden Grant, came bundled
in a nice package of black cloak and a hood that came down over my nose. All he
could see of my face was my Hollywood smile. It was the ribbon on the present.
“Will
it hurt?” His tongue extended in a continuous motion making sounds like a
lapping puppy. When my phone rang loud with Paramore singing “Sunday, Bloody
Sunday” his eyes widened and I laughed, because today was Sunday. The dude just
might keel over from a heart attack before I could reap him.
“Tell
you what, you tell me who the little blond chick is and I’ll make it quick and
painless. Don’t worry, she can’t see me.” She was hunched over the old prune
just enough so I could see down her shirt.
“It’s
my granddaughter.” His stiff hand moved to her head, smoothing down her yellow
hair.
She
sat up in alarm and eyed the heart monitor, ruining my view. “Did you say
something, Granddad? Do you want more pain medication?”
“Damn,
dude, you must be like one hundred because she has got to be about my age.
Seventeen?”
“Yes.”
The old man croaked. The girl pressed the call button, but he was looking at me
with brown, watery eyes.
“For
what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Time was up, and I yearned for the temporary
warmth of his soul. “Here’s how this is going down. When I collect your soul,
your heart will stop beating. You have to come with me, but your physical body
stays right there on the bed. You’re going to be foggy-looking until I deliver
you to a little place called Destination Forever. Once there, your soul will be
returned to you, giving you a normal appearance again. Now, do you have any
regrets?”
He
moved with a slight twist that looked like a no.
“Good,
because if you did, you would be stuck with me, a dead president, and a black
cloak. Just stay still and it will go faster.” This wasn’t my dream job,
so the quicker I collected the soul and delivered it the better. I tracked,
reaped, and delivered within days even though I was given a week to complete an
assignment.
I
leaned in close. He started to whimper and pull back. I became annoyed. “I do
this all the time and don’t want to brag, but I’m that good. As long as you’ve
got no regrets, your pain will disappear. Do you want that?”
I
was inches from his face. The corner of the old man’s mouth twitched and rose.
The scythe heated up and my bony hand hovered over his heart. I placed my mouth
to his dry cracked lips and drank up his soul. He didn’t flinch. His soul
filled my body. It tasted old, sour, and provided little of the warmth I
craved, but I took what I could get.
When
the slow thud of his heart stopped, I pulled away to watch the chaos that
followed. It was always a sight. The heart monitor went flat with a long,
drawn-out note, and the hottie started to cry.
Flawless performance.
Giveaway by The Author:
I'm NOT responsible for it
Oooh! Looks interesting, although it's not the kind of thing I'd usually read. :/
ReplyDeleteRuby @ http://feedmebooksnow.blogspot.co.uk
I know... it's not really my type of book too. But I love the cover (:
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