by Stec, Susan
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Dead Girls Never Shut Up
By
Susan Stec
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Other books by Susan Stec
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The Grateful Undead series:
They're So Vein
Gator Baitin'
Blood, Sweat and Demon Tears
Coffin Fit (fall 2013)
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Teen Paranormal:
Dead Girls Never Shut Up
The Other F Word (spring 2013)
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What others are saying about The Grateful Undead:
They're So Vein is a hilarious and irreverent new twist on the paranormal/vampire romance genre ~~~Barnes and Noble overview
A fresh take on the oft-bitten vampire milieu~~~Jeni Decker, author, I Wish I Were Engulfed in Flames
A unique take on all things paranormal. It's refreshing to see an author take on what is now a very popular genre and make it her own~~~Jeanne Bannon, author, Invisible
Susan Stec's THE UNGRATEFUL DEAD is a rip-snorting satire on all things vampiric and paranormal~~~Carlyle Clark, author, The Apocalypse Gene
Irreverent and hilarious. It is most assuredly NOT your teenaged daughter's vampire story~~~ Linda Ulleseit, author, On a Wing and a Dare
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Dedicated to:
My Daughters, Jeni and Resi, who inspire me, love me, and accept me unconditionally.
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Acknowledgements:
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Thanks go to my On-line family at http://www.thenextbigwriter.com
for their constant support and guidance: Ang, Ann, Apryl, Audra, Carlyle, Casper, Cathy, Doug, Flo, Jaclyn, Janet, Jeanne, Keegan, Linda, LouLou, Nathan, and Rita, I couldn't have done it without all of you.
Special thanks to Tirzah http://tirzahlou.wix.com/tirzahsbookcovers
For help with the cover art and my most excellent title.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and places are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of the characters to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
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Published by Createspace and Susan Stec, author
Dead Girls Never Shut Up
Copyrighted © 2013 by Susan Stec
Cover illustration copyrighted © 2013 Susan Stec
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Chapter One
"I'm not leaving with these guys," Toni said, as she followed her twin sister Sara into Wright's Last Chance Saloon, a family sports bar and local college hangout.
"Give it a freakin' rest! We're only meeting them for lunch. Order a burger—bite and nod—how hard is that?"
"If this goes south," Toni said, "you'll be a flash of oven-baked butt cheeks when I kick you into the next state!" Why did I let myself get dragged into this idea?
"Look," Sara backhanded hair the color of beach sand over her shoulder, "boys are basically Neanderthals and only think about two things: sex and food. So just work those glossy lips; smile and pout. Oh, yeah, bat your eyes and flip your hair a lot. Guys love that."
Toni pulled nervously at a tendril of curls. "Well, at least we don't look like twins."
Sara's chestnut eyes were already scanning the dining area. "Chill, they won't even see us together, or see each other. I've got a plan."
"I can't wait to hear it," Toni mumbled.
Pulling a book and a rose from her backpack, Sara said, "We'll get separate tables, preferably on either side of the room, and sit facing each other so they have to sit with their backs to each other. Oh, and if my guy's a total loser, I'll signal under the table." Sara tilted her head, lips smirking, and her finger pointing at the restroom sign. "That's when you grab your cell phone, excuse yourself and call me from the bathroom. I'll tell the looser I have some big emergency at home, rush out and call you from the car. It's perfect, right?"
It's pathetic. "Only if you promise the next time the gray matter you call your brain comes up with something as stupid as this you'll leave me out of it." Christ, I want no part of dating, anyway, and now I have to make small talk with someone who thinks I was surfing the Net for a love life.
"Come on! You know we'll laugh about this later." Sara giggled and handed Toni the book. "Put this on the corner of your table. That's how he knows you're the one he's looking for."
While Sara flipped her hair and strutted away, Toni ran a hand over the shirt she'd borrowed. Maybe I'll order something with tomato sauce on it.
As she put the book on the corner of her table and sat down, Toni thought, sure, she gets the rose; I get J. D. Salinger. Perfect. She glanced at Sara who was already getting looks from the guys in the room. I hope her date's a toad!
Toni's table was close to the front door, and every time a guy—no matter what age—walked in alone, she held her breath, heart beating like mad, and then let it out slowly as they headed to the bar in the back where all the noise came from... until he walked in and she forgot to breathe. He stood by the entrance with a lopsided grin and sparkling eyes scanning the room. His jet-black hair brushed the shoulders of his FSU hoodie and his Levi's were so tight they made her blush. When he nervously reached up under the hem of his hoodie, she caught a glimpse of a tight tummy and felt a tingly wave roll in her lower stomach.
His eyes met Sara's hopeful ones, and Toni almost moaned. Heart hammering in her chest, she was on the verge of a panic attack when he smiled briefly at Sara and then resumed his scan of the restaurant.
Mouth spread in a wide grin, he tilted his head toward Toni, and sauntered toward the table.
I am so gonna hurl. Her stomach clenched.
The room started spinning as he picked up the book and fanned the pages. Breathe, idiot! You're hyperventilating!
"You must be Toni, and I'm so glad you're a girl. Your name on the email freaked me a little." He laughed, and it was so perfect the corner of Toni's mouth twitched.
"It's actually short for Antoinette. I was named after my grandmother."
He stared at her and a smile broadened his face.
Crap, she thought, I bet he's counting freckles.
"You don't look like an Antoinette, not with all that red hair and those freckles," he teased, and slid into the chair on the other side of the table.
The smile on her face faltered. Here comes the polite conversation followed by the 'I'll call you some time'.
"Umm, well, I..." she stammered, eyes wandering to Sara's table. Her sister was flipping a menu at a waitress while managing to look down her nose at a squatty guy with a spiky brown crew cut who seemed to be placing an order. Even sitting the boy looked at least four inches shorter than Sara.
Toni swallowed a panicky giggle when her own date cleared his throat. She whipped her head back in his direction, feeling heat on her cheeks. "I got my name from my mom's side of the family—Italian—my genes from Dad's Irish side." Great—beet red cheeks fighting tawny freckles for attention under a curtain of carrot red curls—color me Schizo-Tomato-Head.
"Did you get those killer green eyes from your dad?" he asked with a grin.
Toni mentally ranted, He's at least twenty-one—I'm not even eighteen—and he's gorgeous. "Yep, sure did, and your name is?"
"Oh, sorry, you're blushing and it's so damned cute that I lost myself for a minute there. I'm Paul.
" He leaned in, offering his hand. His touch made her whole body vibrate.
"It's nice to meet you, Paul." Did he say cute? Out of the corner of her eye she saw Stout Guy talking a mile a minute with way too much finger quoting. Sara was frantically fanning her hand under the table, pointing over her shoulder in the direction of the restroom with the other.
Toni ignored her. "So I take it you go to Ferris State?" She pointed at the logo on the front of the hoodie.
"Yep, senior year, and still live with my parents near Reed City High School."
"I'm going to be a senior at Reed City in the fall." Okay, now that was stupid. It screamed jail-bait—I'm such an idiot.
The waitress walked up with a smile and a pen. Toni wanted to kiss her until she opened her mouth.
"Would you like something from the bar?" The woman made it very clear that she was asking Paul.
"I'll have a Coke; how about you, Toni?"
Could I get any redder? "Coke's good," Toni squeaked.
Paul laughed.
"Do you know what you want to eat?" the waitress asked, a snide grin on her face.
"Just got here. Can you get the drinks and let us check out the menu?" Paul turned to Toni. "Unless you know what you want?"
"Umm, no… I… well…whatever you decide," Toni said. Where the hell is my brain? She hid behind her menu.
"Today's special is, all you can eat, fried fish strips. Comes with French fries and coleslaw for five-ninety-nine," the woman said over her shoulder as she walked away.
Burrowing further into the menu, Toni took long, deep breaths. Fried fish, like come on—that i's so not going to happen.
"So, do you always pick up guys online?"
There it is; the question I was hoping I didn't have to answer. "Nope, first time. You?"
Toni peeked around her menu at Sara. A waitress was setting plates of food on the table. Her sister looked a bit pissed. Oh yeah! Maybe she'll think twice about surfing the Internet and including me next time.
"A friend of mine talked me into it," Paul was saying. "I don't do the whole pick-up thing very well." It was his turn to hide behind the menu.
Toni's jaw dropped. "You're kidding, right?"
"I'm dying here." He peeked around the menu. "My palms are breaking out in a sweat. You're cute and well…"
M-freakin'-G! He just sooo didn't-say I was cute! "Excuse me?" she squawked.
Paul lowered his menu and looked her right in the eyes. "Now you're kidding, right?"
"Well… um... I… No! I mean, look at you!" Her eyes darted toward Sara. This time Paul's eyes followed.
The squatty guy was about to shove way too many French fries into her sister's mouth. Sara opened her mouth wide while she hooded angry eyes at Toni.
"She doesn't look happy," Paul said. "You know her?"
Toni was determined to make her sister regret she'd ever thought this brainy scheme up in the first place. "Um, not really, so anyway, what do you like to do when you're not on the Internet surfing for dates?" She grinned at him and he grinned back.
Paul started to answer, but the waitress walked up with their drinks, and Toni was able to steal another glance at Sara. The squatty guy had moved his chair to get a better view of the back bar area where several large screen televisions were blaring sports events. Sara blatantly used her hand to mimic slicing her throat, and with curled back lips, jerked a thumb toward the restroom. Squatty guy didn't even notice.
The waitress placed Toni's soda on the table. "Ready to order?"
Toni looked up at the woman. "I'll have the grilled chicken sandwich with fries." With a side glance at her sister, she added, "and a bottle of ketchup."
The waitress wrote down the order and turned to Paul.
Paul glanced apprehensively at Sara from behind his menu, shook his head, mumbled something to himself, then said, "You can bring me a burger with everything on it, and some fries." He laid his menu on the corner of the table next to the Salinger book.
The waitress picked up the menu, plucked Toni's from her hand as she turned on her heels, and headed for the grill. As she got closer to the bar, Toni noticed the waitress pause, brush her chest, look around, shake her head, and then proceed to the bar.
That was weird.
Paul dragged Toni back into their conversation. "I'm a movie freak; especially horror movies. What about you?" He looked at her with anticipation through killer, blue-gray eyes.
"I like books, but not really into horror. Do you read much?" Toni blurted. Ohmigod, that was so lame. Do you read much? Could I work any harder at sounding like a geek-freak? I really need to start thinking before I open my mouth.
"Actually I do, occasionally," he said with a coy smile. "I'm into fantasy—big fantasy, like Tolkien, or A Game of Thrones, Eragon—The Inheritance cycle? Have you read any of them?"
Toni plastered on a smile. Fantasy—just great—and I read mostly non-fiction. "No, I haven't."
As the conversation went on, Toni realized they were actually making small talk and it wasn't going half bad. She put a real smile on her face and started to mention that the waitress was on her way over with their food order, but Paul was no longer looking at her, he was intently focused on her sister's side of the room with his face dressed out in a grimace.
Toni's eyes followed his gaze and landed right on Sara. Oh great! Now she's swinging her steak knife around! The little attention whore! Toni sighed and caught the gaze of a dark haired girl who'd been in her speech glass last year. As the girl walked toward the exit, Toni felt something flutter deep in her stomach. The dark haired girl shared a smile before stepping through the door to leave, and when Toni turned back to Paul, the flutter intensified, and she realized she'd been holding her breath. What the heck is wrong with me? It's like I'm on post-pubescent overdrive.
Paul mumbled as if he were arguing with himself, his eyes in deep concentration, mouth chewing frantically on his French fries.
A yelp broke Toni's thoughts.
Sara, looking wide eyed, held the knife with both hands and pushed it from her face. She tucked her chin and, playing quite the actress, swung the steak knife in a flurry of arcs and stabs, jerked it to her throat and feigned a struggle while emanating guttural squeals.
Her date seemed to be more interested in the football game broadcasting from a wide screen mounted on the wall over the bar. He briefly grinned at Sara, crammed a fist full of fries in his mouth, and a victory cry jerked his attention back to the bar.
Paul was totally zoned in on Sara. But with both hands placed on his cheeks he was literally fighting with himself to turn back toward Toni. It was as though Paul was play acting with Sara.
I'm gonna kill my sister when we get home!
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Neither Paul nor Toni could see the two ghostly apparitions standing by the entrance to the bar.
Chapter Two
One of the ghosts, an old woman, looked to be in her sixties, dressed in early sixteenth century maid's clothing. Her long, rough cotton dress buttoned primly all the way up to her neck and accentuated a round face and flashing green eyes. A drab brown apron cinched her generous waist and fell to her feet over brown leather ankle boots that looked as old as the lines on her face. Her gray hair was pulled back in a bun and partially secured by a small, cream-colored cotton cap.
The other ghost was in his twenties with slicked back blond hair. One long strand flopped in front of blue eyes that were intensely focused on a table by the door. Pale, and lanky, he was naked except for skin tight underwear which made it clear he was not from the sixteenth century.
"Are y'watchin' this, Martin?" Ruth, the older ghost, asked, gesturing to Paul. "The boy's lookin' at 'er, 'e is. Seems 'e's arguing with 'imself. And that girl, Sara? Why, I'd say she's fightin' that knife, she is. It doesn't bode well, dear."
Martin, the blond haired ghost, rolled his translucent eyes. "Oh please, the bling-chick looks like she's jerking her date around." Martin's eyes seemed to float out of his head
before being pulled back by tendrils of smoke. "Will you look at that hottie bending over the table by the window? If I wasn't dead, honey, I'd be all over him."
"Godrestyerunsavorysoul, do try t'stay focused on the young man in question."
Martin and Ruth exchanged a polite but prickly look.
"I'm always focused, Ruth." Martin zeroed in on the hottie again.
"Well, of course y'are, dear." She patted his arm.
"He leans over that table one more time I'm doing a walk-through."
"Blessyeranimalurges, there's no time fer yer unsavory amusements; calamity is presentin' itself, Martin. Y'need not be causin' a kerfuffle on yer own, dear."
"Shame, I could wear him like a glove."
Ruth patted Martin's arm again. "Yes, well put it out o'yer mind, dear. Paul's studyin' 'er like an obsessed alchemist while masticatin' those fried sticks, and 'is eyes're doin' that flashin' thing we've seen many-a-time with other victims o'possession, they are. I believe we're about t'lose Sara, Martin."
Martin blew an evasive huff, but then moved his attention to Toni's table. "I feel sorry for the kid." He waved his arm at Paul and through a waitress as she stepped by. "It's not his fault he's being manipulated to use whatever supernatural skill he possesses on missy-teenster over there."
"Yes, that's true, dear, but the point is-"
"Just look at him; he looks like a poster-boy for Old Navy," Martin went on, swinging his other arm through an old man's head as he staggered back from the restroom. The man lost his step and bounced off the archway on his way back into the bar while Martin studied Paul. "He must be a sorcerer or something special for the seer-ghost to use him like that. The poor schmuck is so damn screwed, and totally adorable."
"I can see where 'is slightly regal features can attract a person such as yerself, bein' o'the sexual nature y'are, dear; 'is long black hair, and oh my, that jaw. Why 'e could slice bread with that jaw-line," Ruth said, and then yelped when one of the waiters walked right through her back and out her chest, a tray laden with food barely moved in his outstretched hand.