By Wm. Mark Simmons
A 12 months in the past, Chris Csejthe (pronounced "Say-thee") used to be thoroughly human-then a blood transfusion with the Lord of the Undead replaced every thing. Now he's a hunted guy, sought by means of human and vampire alike for the secrets and techniques he is familiar with and the powers that his mutated blood might bestow. thus far he is dodged undead assassins, werewolves, a 6,000-year-old Egyptian necromancer, and Vlad Dracula himself. yet now he is relatively acquired difficulties. The useless are turning up on his doorstep after darkish to invite for justice and the police need to know the place all these corpses are coming from. Undead terrorists are trying out a doomsday virus on his new fatherland and he is stuck within the crossfire among a white supremacist defense force and the resurrected Civil conflict useless. His werewolf lover, jealous of his useless wife's ghost, has left him. And the centuries-old and nonetheless very attractive (and very lethal) Countess Bathory is set to have his uniquely remodeled blood for her personal darkish reasons. Now, greater than ever, lifestyles sucks!
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Extra info for Dead on My Feet (The Halflife Chronicles)
I kicked it up a notch so that I was doing twenty-five, maybe thirty mph. Once upon a time I had taken up jogging as a healthy pastime. That was in another lifetime. In my present incarnation I ran more to alleviate my boredom than to condition my transforming flesh. Except now I was anything but bored and was literally running for my life: two birds with one stone, as it were. The sun had been down an hour but the temperature still hovered in the mid nineties. The edges of my vision still registered in the infrared band and the pavement glowed brick red out of the corners of my eyes.
You suffer from insomnia, rarely go out in de day, and have no personal physician. In fact, you have no life or healt’ insurance. You do, however, have an interesting hobby: last mont’ you opened a separate office wit’ ‘After Dark Investigations’ stenciled on de door. ” I shrugged. ” “So why come here? ” “Nawlins also has vampires,” she said mildly. I blinked. ” I blinked again. “I have a medical condition that makes me allergic to sunlight. ” “Of course. If you really were a vampire, you would hardly be able to roam about in de daylight.
Now I was angry. ” Like a flash fire, the anger was suddenly gone but a taste of ashes remained in my mouth. ” “Or vampires? Or werewolves? ” She smiled, white teeth erupting into a gleaming crescent in her dark face. ” I asked, rising shakily to my feet. “Mama Samm D’Arbonne. ” “De trut’, Mr. Haim. ” “Depend on who it help and who it hurt. ” “We all have our reasons, chère. ” “About you. Who you are. What you are. Why you’ve come here. ” I moved back so that my chair was added to the furniture between us.