Monday, August 17, 2015


We're just weeks away from the release of Hampire: A (Sorta) Love Story!

Get to know plucky (but unlucky in love) Sarah!

Sarah Smith is having a rough week. High school is over. She doesn't have a job, a boyfriend, or any future plans--and her two flighty friends are suddenly the responsible ones. 

But her luck may be changing after she lands a job at a rustic museum...and finds something more valuable than history lurking in the basement. #Hampire


“Sarah?” A familiar face peaked outside the glass door to the patio. It was Gash.
            Mom opened the door. “Sidney, do you know how to use the front door?”
            She regarded Nannette’s question like a riddle. “It takes away the element of surprise.”
            I stepped around Mom. “We’ll be just outside.”
            I could hear her murmuring to herself…probably her disappointment that I hadn’t somehow managed to get rid of the two friends I had for people more Nannette-like.
            “Is your mom still riding your ass?”
            “Not so much anymore—I got a job!”
            “No shit! That’s great! Super-Ups or somewhere else?”
            At least Gash never lacked enthusiasm. “I’m working at the old museum on Main Street. Night shift duty.”
            She pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “See? Things always work out.”
            I nodded, then ushered Gash away from the glass—away from Nannette’s sight. “Yeah, and now if I could just get cooler friends, things might work out.”
            “Cooler friends? What’s wrong with me? Beej is tiring, but I’m totes awesome.”
            I decided to deflect. “Maybe if I had a guy friend around…”
            “Well, that’s probably a good idea. I mean, you’ve never had a boyfriend—”
            “Come on! I’m not being an ass. And it’s not as if you haven’t tried...”
Twice—and only twice—I ventured out on a date. The first was with Powell Gardner. He was beautiful. He was on the football team. His arms were like two big slabs of meat. And he asked me, plain Sarah Smith, to go out with him. I couldn’t believe it.
So, one night we went to Applebee’s.
            Gash and Bennie spent an hour dolling me up. They were both impressed that Powell Gardner—king of high school—took notice in me. It was like a Cinderella story, only it was mine.
            Then, an hour after our entrees arrived (I had the bourbon chicken; he had the sampler platter), he got quiet. He started to sweat. I barely had the courage to talk to him in school, and suddenly I was trying to find a classy way of asking what was wrong. But then he blurted it out.
            “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” He said, drops of sweat falling off his face and onto what remained of his chicken wings. “It’s not you—I mean, honestly, it’s not you.” He laughed softly. “It’s…it’s Mitch. I love him. I thought I could just make myself...” He looked at me and started to cry. “Oh, God! Mitch!”
            The date was over. At school, Powell ignored me entirely. He came out the summer before our senior year. He seemed happy. So did Mitch.
            I was humiliated, but it had only been one date. I could get over one bad date.
            Will Simpkins had asked me out in the fall. He was quiet, but sweet. He had a geeky way about him, but he was muscular and not scrawny—and muscles were always my weakness. Those meat slabs…
            I didn’t tell the girls about Will initially. I pretended like it was no big deal. Inwardly, I was nervous and excited. Being plain Sarah Smith was boring—and when a guy took notice, I would float on cloud nine for months.
            So when I met Will at the bowling alley, I thought he looked good. Tight jeans, a Star Wars t-shirt, and some nice cologne. He was sooo sweet, and he paid for my nachos.
            Then midway through our first game, he pretended to go to the bathroom. When I went to search for him, he had left a note at the refreshment stand. “Can’t do this. Still love Powell.” I never saw Will again.
            I couldn’t believe it had happened twice. Was I the safe straight girl that gay guys were drawn to? It seemed statistically impossible that gay lightning would strike twice, but it had.
            I ran to Gash’s house and cried on her bed that night.
            And that was the last time I had even remotely pretended to be interested in finding a boyfriend. Maybe luck would change after high school.

            Except I had no plan. 


#Hampire #NewAdult #Horror #Paranormal #fiction