Page 90 of Hexed, Vexed, & Undersexed
Continuing reading for an exclusive look at the beginning of the first book of the Glitter & Ghosts series. Please note this is snippet is unedited and a copyrighted work of A.J. Macey and MJ Marstens therefore cannot be copied, shared, or reproduced, or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review
Copyright 2020 by A.J. Macey & MJ Marstens
All rights reserved.
Chapter 1
Sneak Peek
Arkyn
Time ticked down as I waited impatiently. It was hot and humid in the middle of the Tennessee summer as I hung out along the edge of the race. I thankfully didn't have deal with the people around me, blending in with fancy hats or fake as fuck southern hospitality. Hell, the woman to my right continued to giggle over other attendees’ attire and the irritating sound grated on my nerves as I leaned against the pole next to me. Rolling my eyes at her, I dug the cold metal device out of the pocket of my summer dress for what seemed to be the sixth time. The hand of the pocket watch was nearing the top of the hour. Only this wasn't a typical pocket watch... no, this was the watch of someone's death.
Yeah.
I'm a reaper.
Yes, the kinds that picked up people's souls and took them over to the other side where they can live happily ever after... or whatever it was their soul was destined to do.
And now?
It was showtime.
Looking back to the track, I watched the death of George Franklin. He was perched on top of one of the horses, clutching tightly to the reigns. Right up until I knew the second hand hit the top of the Death Clock. When that moment hit, George shifted slightly before falling to the side and tumbling off the horse.
The crowds gasped, the track doctors raced out to where he laid unmoving. Sighing, I started down the stairs. When I reached the dirt trail, I noted that the racers continued on their horses, completely unaware of what had transpired before them. Shaking my head as they finally started to slow, I hopped over the railing and made my way toward the thick of things.
There was plenty of scurrying from the doctors and track staff, but there was no use, nor did I pay them much attention as I came up to George’s supine body. Looking down at him, I purposely ignored the pins and needles sensation the humans created. There, laying where he passed, was George Franklin.
“Hey,” I greeted, shifting slightly out of the way of a paramedic.
“Uh...what is happening right now?” he asked, his eyes wide and brimming with fear and confusion. I tried to give him a reassuring smile in an attempt to help calm him. Those who didn’t see their death coming or those who were stubborn were always the ones who struggled to adjust to the concept of being dead.
“You’ve died… sorry,” I tacked on the ending when I realized how cold-hearted it sounded originally.
Guess that’s what happens when you’re a fairy of death.
“You… you’re the Grim Reaper?” he sputtered, gazing at me like he’d just seen his life flash before his eyes.
…wait.
“Yes,” I answer, not letting my mind wander on the curiosities of death and the fact that he probably did have that happen. “Well, one of them anyway. But we prefer to be called Death Fairies.”
“I thought you’d be scarier with a black cloak and scythe...and taller.”
My lips thinned as I glared.
Why does it always come back to my petite stature and iridescent wings?
“Nope. You get me and my sparkly wings so glitter up, dude, we have to get you to the catacombs.”
* * *