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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781524603311 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 04/13/2016 |
| Pages: | 234 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.90(w) x 8.90(h) x 0.80(d) |
Read an Excerpt
The Unforgettable Vampire
Book 1
By Bailey Ziehmer
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2016 Bailey ZiehmerAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5246-0331-1
CHAPTER 1
Bailey
The sound of the front door slamming shut made me jump so high that I thought I would drop the box I had just brought up to my room. I was afraid to look down the stairs at the man who most likely stood at the front door drunk.
That man was my dad.
My gut told me to just ignore him and finish unpacking my new room, but I was curious and wanted to see what my dad was doing. When no other sound came from downstairs, I wondered if my dad had passed out on the couch or left.
I set the box on my new bed and stood quietly in my room. Nothing, no sound, no voices.
I glanced in the mirror next to me and saw my almost eighteen-year-old figure. The long, curly black hair, brown eyes — they all conveyed a paragraph. But my mind could tell you a story.
My curiosity finally got the best of me, so I slowly walked out of my room and down the hallway. I peeked down the stairs, but I could see only the front door, the hallway, and the entrance to the living room.
It was deathly quiet.
When I got up the courage to walk down the hardwood stairs, the sound of my shoes hitting the steps was the only thing that I heard. When I reached the bottom, I noticed that my dad's shoes weren't next to the door like I had expected. I looked into the living room and noticed a crushed, empty beer can on the floor.
I heard another can being crushed in the kitchen just inches away from me and cringed at the sound. The sound of the empty beer can hitting the hardwood floor in the kitchen echoed in my ears.
I could go up to my room and act like I hadn't seen or heard any of this. I could act like I hadn't just heard my dad walk in, that I hadn't heard my dad throwing empty beer cans on the floor for the hundredth time, and that he wasn't drunk just a few inches away from me.
It was supposed to be different with a new town, a new life, a new start — and a new dad. He'd promised me that when we moved to this town, things would be different, but it was not starting out that way. I wondered what had made him start drinking this time. We'd been in this town for only four days, and the first day, we hadn't done anything but eat and sleep.
There was this nice-looking bar just down the street called John's Bar. It was a nice size for a bar. My dad and I had gone there to eat the day we arrived, and the food was amazing. When we arrived at the new house, it was already furnished. It was so late that we didn't even get anything out of the car but a couple of pillows and blankets to sleep on the plain beds. The house was two stories and had two bedrooms with two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a huge living room.
The sound of someone yelling my name pulled me from my deep thoughts. I looked toward the kitchen to see my dad standing in the kitchen doorway with a beer in one hand. His other held onto the wall for support.
"Bailey, hello," he said drunkenly.
"Sorry," I stuttered, afraid to say anything else. One wrong thing, and everything would change.
"I said, 'Go get me another pack of beer from the car,'" he said, pointing his beer toward the door.
I looked at the door as if expecting to see someone there. I looked back at my dad and chose my words carefully. "There's ... there's no more beer out in the car," I stuttered.
I know you're wondering why I was stuttering. Well, it's because I'm not afraid of anything — except for my dad when he drinks. He's laid a hand on me before, but never anything bad. My dad isn't the best person and he scares me when he's drunk, but he scares me more when he's drunk and out of beer.
"Then where is the beer?" my dad asked, like it was an obvious question.
"In your hand," I said, nodding toward it. I was pushing it, and I knew it, but I wasn't going to stand there and let him treat me like shit.
With a blank expression on his face, my dad looked at the beer can, making it hard to read what he was going to do next.
My question was answered when he threw the half-full can on the floor, making the beer spill out onto the floor. I jumped back a little, caught off guard by his action.
My dad raised his finger at me as his eyes seemed to darken in anger. "I told you to get a new pack of beer the other day, and all you did was sit in your room and daydream of a new world," he said, waving his hands in the air.
"I wasn't daydreaming of a new world. I was daydreaming of a new dad!" I yelled.
This was it. My life was over. He was going to do something stupid, and I would be the one hurt in the end. I had pushed his buttons a lot, but never this bad.
His heavy footsteps started to walk fast toward me as I backed away. My hand reached for the front door handle, and I quickly opened it.
The sound of my feet racing off the porch and down the steps wasn't what filled my ears. No, what filled my ears was the sound of my dad's feet running down the steps. He cussed and screamed at me as my feet moved faster down the street.
My mind was telling me to turn behind me to see if he was still following, but I couldn't do it. If I saw his face full of anger, I'd be scared and slow my pace somehow.
A light wind hit my pale face and blew my black curls behind me as I kept running. I finally stopped and turned behind me to see no one was there. It was dark out, and the only thing I could see was the road. I realized I was standing on a bridge that my dad and I had driven over on our way here.
I looked down at the water under me and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down before I had a panic attack. The sound of footsteps behind me made me quickly turn around to see my dad standing in front of me, anger rolling off him in waves.
"You little girl, I should kill you where you stand for talking to me like that!" he yelled.
I had a choice: agree to never do it again and take whatever came to me, or go down fighting. I'd go down fighting. "Go ahead and kill me! It's not like you ever wanted me anyway!" I shouted, throwing my hands out to my sides.
My dad got angrier at every word I said, if that was even possible. "Maybe I will! Then I won't have to deal with your stupid attitude and that stupid head of yours! You're just like your mother!" he shouted as he stepped toward me, making me back up.
My back hit the bridge railing, so I couldn't move any farther.
Then I felt my dad's two huge hands shove me hard against the railing, which cracked.
Suddenly, I no longer felt the railing behind me. Instead, I felt air. My hands reached out to grab hold of something, anything, but there was nothing there.
If I could have grabbed air, I would have. But I fell backward, looking into my dad's eyes as he looked down at me with no expression on his face but satisfaction.
In a blink of an eye, he was gone from the edge of the bridge, and water filled around me. Water filled my lungs as I tried to get one last breath in, but I didn't get air. Instead, I got water, the cold water that separated me from the man I once called Dad.
CHAPTER 2Damon
I walked into Erica's room, seeing her stand in front of me with crossed arms.
She was mad.
"I told you to leave Chloe alone. She's new to this whole vampire thing, and I don't need to sit here and wonder what you're going to do to her if I'm not watching her or you every five minutes."
"She killed two people," I said to her. "If it were anyone else, you would have them killed. But since she's your best friend, you think all rules just go out the door." I was angry too at this point.
"Damon, she didn't turn into a vampire because she wanted to. She was forced, and you know it. You're just mad at the world — as usual," Erica said as she grabbed some shorts and a shirt.
"You think I'm mad at the world. No, not the world, Erica. Just the girl who's standing in front of me," I said angrily.
Erica rolled her eyes at me, which made me even angrier.
"You know, Erica, I do hate the world. In fact, I don't care anymore. I don't care if you hate me, if my brother hates me. None of it," I said.
"You don't mean that," she said as she looked up and her brother, Jacob, walked in.
"Hey, what's going on?" Jacob asked.
I looked at him before looking at Erica; an idea coming to me. "Really? Well, then," I said with a shrug. And then I broke Jacob's neck, making his lifeless body hit the floor.
Erica's eyes widened as she ran to her brother's side. "No!" she cried, shaking him.
"Don't worry, Erica. He's a vampire; he'll survive," I said casually with a smirk.
"You monster," Erica said angrily, looking at me as tears rolled down her face.
"Yup, because that's exactly what I am," I said with an evil smirk before leaving. My brother Steven walked up the stairs and took one look at the crying Erica on the ground before running to her side.
I walked out the door, slamming the door behind me. I needed to calm myself down, so I started to walk.
After about half an hour of walking, I finally stopped and laid down in the middle of the road. If a car came by, I'd just drain the driver of his or her blood and deal with the body afterward.
The sound of a girl and guy screaming at each other drew me out of my thoughts. They were so loud and annoying that I was about ready to just leave, but my curiosity got the best of me and I stood with a sigh.
Over on the bridge stood a girl with curly black hair yelling at a taller man who looked like he could be her father. I stood there for a second watching the two yelling at each other, confused. It reminded me of my father and me.
"I wasn't daydreaming of a new world; I was daydreaming of a new dad!" the girl yelled and then looked shocked by her words. The dad looked even angrier than before.
"You little girl, I should kill you where you stand for talking to me like that!" he yelled at her. That's kind of harsh, I thought, he's mostly drunk or something.
"Go ahead and kill me! It's not like you ever wanted me anyway," the girl said, throwing her hands out to her sides. The dad seemed to get angrier with every word that was said, if that was even possible.
"Maybe I will. Then I won't have to deal with your stupid attitude and that stupid head of yours. You're just like your mother!" the dad said and pushed the girl.
I figured the girl would hit the side of the bridge and then there would be more yelling. Boy, was I wrong. The old railing behind her cracked before breaking. I watched, wide-eyed, as she fell toward the water under her.
I zoomed over to the man as he just watched his daughter fall into the rocky water. No matter who this guy was or what this girl had said, there was no reason to practically almost kill her.
Though I shouldn't be talking since I've killed people just for the fun of it.
I grabbed the man's neck and snapped it; his body fell to the ground, dead.
I let his body fall as I looked down at the water, expecting the girl to swim up, but she didn't. There wasn't any sign of her returning to the surface. What I did next was shocking to even me. I sighed before diving in, in search of this mystery girl.
CHAPTER 3Bailey
My eyes started to close as I realized this was the end. I wasn't that upset that it was the end, but there was still so many things I wish I could have done in my life. I heard the splash of the water and felt someone grab hold of me. My eyes stayed shut; I was afraid that if I opened them, I would be filled with the fear again.
I felt the person lift me up out of the water. I felt the cool air as it hit my wet face and body. This person was not my dad but it was defiantly a man. I could definitely say that. I felt his muscles through his wet shirt and was almost scared to see who this person was.
Something inside of me told me that I was safe. I never felt safe — even when I was with my friends, I still never felt safe — but right then, I did.
The hard, sandy ground was what I felt next. Already, I could feel the sand sticking to my brown jacket, hair, and jeans. The second I felt the man's arms leave me, I quickly opened my eyes and looked around before sitting up. I was soaked, but I wasn't worried about that. I was more worried about the man that sat in front of me.
The man had short, dark-brown hair that looked almost black in the moonlight. He wore jeans, black shoes, and a dark-gray shirt with a black leather jacket over it. The water dripped off his hair as he looked at me, showing his blue eyes that held one thing: mystery.
"Who are you?" I asked as so many emotions came over me.
"What, no thank you for saving your life?" the man said and stood up. He was just a hint taller than me.
"Sorry," I said sarcastically as I stood up and looked around, trying to see if I could see my dad anywhere.
The man sighed as if he was mad at himself for being so rude. He should be, I thought. "Whatever," he said and started to walk away.
I looked at him, surprised. "Wait," I said and grabbed his arm. I felt this electricity between us when my skin touched his. I wondered if he felt it too, but my question was left unanswered.
The man turned and looked at me. "What?" he asked, a bit annoyed.
"Thank you for saving me. My name's Bailey — Bailey Chase." I held out my hand for the man to shake, but he just looked at it like it was a foreign object. "It's a hand; you shake it," I said with a small smile.
I could have sworn that I saw him smile for a split second, but if he did, he quickly wiped it off his face before I fully noticed. I could instantly tell this man didn't smile a lot, and if he did, it was more of a smirk. He was a ladies' man. I could tell just by looking at him that ladies fought for him.
The man finally took my hand in his and shook it slightly. "My name's Damon, Damon Jackson," he said and quickly pulled his hand away.
I looked around and ran my hand through my wet hair. "Hey, did you by any chance see a man walking around, probably still drunk?" I asked.
The man named Damon looked at me, and for a split second, he had a guilty look on his face. "No, he walked away when I jumped in the water to save you," he replied. I sighed and decided to ignore his attitude. It seemed like he'd always be like this, even though I'd just met him five minutes ago.
I looked around again, trying to figure a way back up to the bridge. It looked like the best way to get back up there was to climb.
"Thanks again for the help, but do you by any chance have a —" I started to say as I turned to face him again, but was surprised to find him gone. I turned in circles to see he was nowhere in sight.
"... phone," I finished and sighed. "I'm losing my mind, again," I said, shaking my head.
I started the long walk back to my so-called house. My wet clothes stuck to my body like gum on the bottom of a shoe. My hair was just starting to dry, thank god. My shoes sloshed under me as I finally reached the front porch of my house. I expected to see my dad passed out on the couch when I walked into the house, but instead, I found no one.
There wasn't a sound throughout the whole house. The two crushed beer cans still sat on the living room floor, right where we'd left them. The other beer can sat on the floor, its contents still spilled on the floor around it.
I slipped out of my shoes and decided to throw them into the washer along with the other clothes I was wearing. I walked up the stairs and into the laundry room, where the washer and dryer stood against the wall. A towel hung next to them.
I took off my jacket and emptied out my pockets, which held three ones and a couple of dimes, along with an empty sucker wrapper. I put the money on the dryer and threw my shoes, jacket, shirt, and jeans in the washer before wrapping the towel around me and heading to the bathroom that was connected to my room.
The hot water warmed me to my bones and relaxed me so much that I thought I'd melt. I changed into my pajamas and let my hair hang down to dry. I went downstairs and picked up the beer cans and threw them away before getting a washcloth and cleaning up the spilled beer on the floor.
My dad still wasn't home yet, which I was happy about, since I didn't have to worry about him. He needed to pass out somewhere and sober up. Part of me was yelling to call the cops on this man, but the other part of me was saying to just let it go.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Unforgettable Vampire by Bailey Ziehmer. Copyright © 2016 Bailey Ziehmer. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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