Read Dead Girls Don't Cry Online
Authors: Casey Wyatt
“Was it so bad to stay with us?” someone else said. Marron, I think.
“There’s no cure for stupid,” Philip responded. He grabbed Ian into a bear hug. The rest of the rogues circled us and offered equally enthusiastic greetings.
I moved back, leaving them. My top concern was the family. I circled the crowd, taking a mental inventory. To my relief everyone had survived, including the revenants and zombies. The loss of any of them would have hurt me.
I walked over to the prisoners. Loosely assembled, they wore the hang dog look of the defeated. A few of them shrank back when I approached. Anger lit up my gut. They were babies in vampire years.
“What did Thalia do? Recruit and turn you five minutes before lift-off?”
None of them answered.
“What should we do with these guys?” Jay asked, clad in an oversized t-shirt. “I hope they have some useful skills. They suck as soldiers.”
“We’ll make room for them. They’re welcome here.” I said it loud enough so everyone heard me. Then I addressed them, “No one will harm you here. But, you’ll have to work. Agreed?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” was the universal reply.
Harmony sidled up to me, sliding her arm into the crook of my elbow, “How are you doing?”
Shaking my head, I said, “I’ve had way better days. We’re doing fine.” I splayed my fingers across my tummy. A little shiver rewarded me.
I smiled. “We’ll be fine.”
Epilogue: Six Months Later
They say time flies when you’re having fun. I’m not sure how true that is. Time seems to fly even when you’re busy.
The colony, since renamed New Hope City, thrived. After Thalia’s defeat, word reached Earth – the new Queen was dead. A vampire civil war immediately ensued.
We sent Kasia and Thalia’s ship to retrieve any of the undead who wanted to start a new life.
How did Thalia reach us so fast? Trent had been feeding her information. A spy in her employ, he had betrayed the mission back on Earth when he revealed the missile silo location.
Later, on the ship, he broke into Prior’s files and learned there was a second sister ship to Kasia. The other ship, Lethe, was commandeered by Thalia once she mastered its control. We learned this from her former soldiers. Officially unemployed, each one, I’m happy to say, remained with us.
The rogues found Trent and Pearl holed up in a canyon, half-starved. For the good of the colony we sent them back to Earth. Of the original colonists, they were the only two to leave.
Good riddance to them.
The Moral Committee and Improvement Committee made a unanimous recommendation to live in the caverns. Further exploration revealed the Ancients lived luxuriously, with such amenities as baths fueled by hot springs buried deep in Mars' mantle. Sonic showers were saved for the arrivals at the new space dock.
Yup, we have a port now. And commerce. There are two pubs, three juice joints and one house of burlesque. Old habits die hard. More on the club in a moment.
The greenhouses have quadrupled in size, supplying nutritious shakes to supplement the diminishing need for blood to survive. The scope of the changes are under investigation, but we continue to be doubly blessed with eternal youth and immortality.
And the baby. I’m the size of a house. She’s due to arrive any day now.
In fact, I was in my office wrapping up my final duties as Colony Leader. My elected predecessor would assume leadership the next day.
“Knock, knock,” Ian stood in the doorway, tall, blonde and smiling. “How’s my little mum today?” His lips captured mine, reminding me again why I loved him. Kind, brave, and smokin’ good in the sack.
With a low sigh, he pulled away. “No offenses to the baby, but I miss you.”
I laughed, a throaty purr, “I didn’t satisfy you enough this morning?” I knew what he meant. We had to ease back on the rough bed play.
“Ready for you new duties, Mr. McDevitt?” I traced my fingers over his silken, cream colored tunic. The red jumpsuits were long gone as attire. They’d been re-purposed as a stage curtain over at the Cherry-dome, red velvet being in short supply. I was the proud proprietor of the new burlesque house.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. I have big shoes to fill, Mrs. McDevitt.” He brushed my lips with his, hands sliding down to the swell of my breasts.
“Cherry!” Louis burst into the still too tiny office. “You’re needed outside.” Highly agitated, he didn’t seem to notice Ian’s hand down my shirt.
“What’s wrong now?” I waddled my way to the door. I called back to Ian, “See what you get to deal with every day?”
We stepped outside and walked towards the space port terminal.
“They arrived moments ago. We thought they were from Earth.”
I skipped a step. “Where do you think they’re from?”
Louis held open the door for me to pass. “I’m not sure.”
An away shuttle, similar in design to Kasia’s, was parked on the landing pad. Kneeling revenants filled the tarmac. Harmony stood at the front, arms raised skyward.
“Bloody hell,” Ian muttered.
The entire crowd turned in unison and stared at us. Down to the last revenant, their eyes glowed. Creepy.
Diaphanous creatures bathed in white light stepped out of the ship. They hovered, floating an inch above the floor. The revenants moved aside to let them pass.
The visitors’ features, obscured by the light bath, were humanoid as far as I could tell. No extra eyes or appendages.
Ian moved closer to me, his protective instincts on high alert. Warning sirens rang in my head.
The lead creature stopped a few feet away and spoke. Its voice breathy, almost unreal. “Who leads you?”
The revenants pointed to me.
Crap on toast.
I am so grateful to have such wonderful friends and family in my life.
Jane – this one’s dedicated to you. No one could ask for a better friend or critique partner. I’m so glad I was brave enough to venture to the library that night. I can’t imagine life without your friendship and guidance.
To Lisa S. and Lisa G. – thank you for not laughing when I told you about the concept for this book. Thank you for reading the first drafts and pointing out the ridiculous typos and for your unfailing support. To my fellow writers, Tam Linsey and Jamie Pope – I appreciate your honesty and suggestions to make this story better. I also want to thank my friends in CTRWA. You are the best, most supportive writer’s group ever!
Like Cherry, this book has been through a journey of changes. Originally published as
The Undead Space Initiative
, I’m forever grateful to Mary and Julie at Jupiter Gardens Press for loving this story as much as I did.
And Kim Killion Designs deserves a heap of praise for the awesome cover and for helping a deer in the headlights (that would be me) with formatting and cover designs.
And many thanks to my readers. I love to hear from you so please drop by my website:
www.caseywyatt.com
. To receive advance notice about new releases and special sales, I’d love it if you subscribed to
my newsletter
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Casey Wyatt has no personal knowledge of the paranormal, but she hopes someday that may change. If there are ancient Gods, elves or satyrs living nearby, they’re more than welcome to visit. Bring pizza and chocolate please!
Casey’s paranormal romance and urban fantasy novels have won or placed in numerous RWA contests. When not writing, Casey enjoys time with her family, loves to read, and enjoys knitting and crocheting.
She lives in a bustling Connecticut town with her husband, two sons and a herd of cats (none are shape-shifters, but you never know!).
Visit Casey on the web:
www.caseywyatt.com
. You can also find Casey on Facebook and Twitter (@CaseyWyatt1). To receive advance notice about new releases and special sales, subscribe to
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OTHER BOOKS BY CASEY WYATT
The Mystic Series:
Mystic Ink
Mystic Storm
Mystic Hero
Lachlan’s Curse
Misfortune Cookie
The Undead Space Initiative Series:
Dead Girls Don’t Cry
Dead Girls Don’t Sing – coming soon
Dead Girls Don’t Lose – coming soon
Dead Girls Don’t Cry
Copyright © 2016 by Casey Wyatt
Cover Design and Interior Format by The Killion Group, Inc.
http://www.thekilliongroupinc.com
First published as
The Undead Space Initiative
, July 2012, Jupiter Gardens Press, Jupiter Gardens, LLC., PO Box 191, Grimes, IA 50111
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead, is coincidental.
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