Today is Friday, but not just any Friday. On this day I have the distinct pleasure of
welcoming another talented writer and author to my blog. Below you will find her words spilled across
this page. Read them, and get to know
Lyndi Alexander, and glimpse her world.
Inevitable; or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and
Love Vampires
I’ve never liked vampires. Not Count Dracula, not
all the bloody B movies of my generation, not even Barnabas Collins (tho I
confess I did love the drama of his show). When Stephenie Meyer brought the
vampire back to life in her Twilight
series, I never picked up one of her books or saw the movies. So I’m not really
in the “yes, sparkle” or “no, sparkle” camp.
But then about ten years ago, I went with some of my
friends to a new class that studied energy from an Eastern perspective. We
learned about auras and personal energy fields and chakras and self-healing. As
a person who routinely thinks from inside my head instead of on a
“touchy-feely” basis, this was a long, hard education for me, but I eventually
understood it.
I also came to understand how others can drain your
energy, in a very toxic way. You know, the person who calls at all hours of the
day and night, just to whine about the terribles of their life, though they
never take your advice and never change the way they do anything. They suck the
life from you.
*idea*
And that’s how I came around to the concept that
vampires come in alternate flavors besides blood-red cherry and rainbow
sherbet. Once I reached that far, and still wanting to get in on the popularity
of the subject, I moved on to the possibility of psychic vampires. These are
vampires that steal energy, not blood, but a life force nonetheless. Combining that with my background as a
journalist and a few hunky doctors, LOVE ME, KISS ME, KILL ME was born. I may
still shy away from vampires as a rule, but at least in this form, we can
co-exist. J
BLURB:
Running away isn’t necessarily the answer.
In her mad rush to escape a failed marriage, Sara Woods takes the first job available and lands in the middle of a mystery. Her first assignment as a news reporter for the Ralston Courier is the investigation of a string of deaths, all young women, all her age.
She becomes a patient at the Goldstone Clinic, a local mecca of healing, to deal with chronic pain from her past. But all is not as it seems at the Goldstone, its doctors and nurses are all the picture of perfect beauty and health. Patients at the clinic first seem to get better, then they deteriorate. Sara enlists the help of Dr. Rick Paulsen, who teaches her how to access her internal power, skills she never knew she had, revealing secrets from her past. Police officer Brendon Zale also takes an interest in Sara, but he acts like a stalker, watching her every move, and he won’t leave her alone.
As she digs deeper into the story, and more young women die without explanation, she tries to choose allies wisely, but not till the last confrontation does she discover the identity of her true enemy.
By then, it’s too late.
“You don’t understand. The police won’t be any help in this matter.”
“They’re
investigating her death—”
“They’re not investigating her death! They’re
just going through the motions until everyone forgets about her and they can
toss her file in a cabinet, never to be seen again!” He slapped his fork onto
the table, a flush of anger suffusing his face, all the way to the tips of his
ears. “Just like the others.”
I
glanced quickly around to see if his eruption had been noticed, but Athena was,
thankfully, out of the room. “What others?” I demanded. “Those three other
women? The same people have killed all of them? And no one’s noticed except
you?”
“No
one will. No one will even care.” He leaned closer, spoke more softly. “They’re
careful who they choose. Victims with no close family. Women who won’t be
missed.”
“That
Gina had a baby. There must have been someone—”
“Her
ex had filed papers to get custody. Once she was dead, he didn’t have a worry
in the world. He didn’t care, as long as she was out of his way. It was the
same with the others. Lily’s fiancé had broken it off with her, and she was
just hiding here with her aunt, letting her ballet practice become her life.
Marta was a loner, a waitress who lived by herself. Sandy was a new teacher,
she’d just started at the district, and she was so proud of her class.” His
voice broke with emotion, and he waved away the waiter, who was heading in our
direction with a pitcher of ice water.
“You
treated them all?” I asked.
“At
one time or other. I could sense something not right about them, something in
their chemistry, something in their…energy, it just wasn’t right.”
Energy? That was the second time in two
days I’d heard someone talk about a person’s energy. Surely he didn’t mean… “So
who’s ‘they’? These mysterious bad guys?”
It
was almost a whisper. “The Goldstone Clinic.”
Learn more at:
http://lyndialexander.wordpress.com/love-me-kiss-me-kill-me/
Also Checkout: http://www.hydrapublications.com/
Thanks for hosting me, Michael! What an attractive website you have. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Babs. It was good to have you visit. I wish you the very best on your tour. This site is still a work in progress. Not really sure how most of it works. I'm slowly learning how to make changes to it.
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