Monday, November 19, 2012



Hey, y'all!

When I was asked to describe my alter-ego, Dallas Coleman's, first YA piece, all I could think was, Oh, wow.







Zombie brides.

Storm-calling immortal homeless men.




They're all in there, biting and growling and basically screwing things up for mankind. I had a ball writing these guys and I'm very much looking forward to writing more.


Here's an excerpt:

Spook walked across the room, heading right to the corner. Lola was right. There was something here.
God, he was tired. He'd worked all night slinging hash at the Station, then had crawled to the flat, where Lola had been waiting, gauzy fabric draping her, softening the sharp angles and the bulging belly where the babies -- babies, where the fuck were they all going to raise babies? -- were growing. It wasn't really his turn to go tracking, but Harry was down in the sewers looking for a shifter, Kat was working a shift at Jojo's and Greg and Nan were both... well, hibernating.
Right. Hibernating.
Until the sun went down.
Damned blood suckers. Really, Nan was cool, because she was a nurse, but Greg was a bicycle messenger and they didn't work third shift.
Damn it.
So, the Queen Bee and all-around pain in the ass bitch had given him twenty dollars and an address, telling him that Lightning McMann -- bum, nutcase, and uber-talented sensitive with a Meth habit -- had been having problems at that new coffee shop on West.
"Why did I move out here again?" The words were not even loud enough to be a whisper, really, because he knew the answer.
He'd moved because queer, Goth, psychic club kids with the ability to sniff out evil weren't really necessary in Amarillo.
Or wanted.
Or, really, suffered to live.
Oh, man. Good coffee.
The coffee shop was nice, though. Freak-friendly, with a safe-for-the-mundane vibe and a couple of the good chairs. Looked like a place for a little band on a pseudo-stage, too. Wicked.
There was a family sticker above the door, which had him eyeing the twins behind the bar with a distant, sort of prurient interest. There wasn't a thing between them, though, barring that normal sibling, you stole my Cheerios and kissed a boy first kind of mucky connection multiplied by dude, we have matching DNA strands.
Pity, because that would be relatively pretty jack-off material.
Something flared across from him, something willful and damned angry, with a connection that felt like being slapped with a bag of used coffee grounds. Well, hello, aren't you awake and aware and a little possessive?
He put his coffee mug down, watching the clouds of milk in it settle out, reflecting the light from the street outside, the people walking by, and...
There. Eyes. Dark eyes.
He grabbed his cell phone, dialed up the Loft.
Lola answered immediately. "Well?"
"Yeah. Lightning was right."
"It is big?"
Spook shrugged. "It's... real. Does that count?"


Official blurb: 

Twins Marcus and Micah have moved all over the country, trying to find a place to run their favorite business. They love their coffee shop, but there's always something, some sort of malevolent presence always ruins it for them. They don't know who or what it is that haunts them, only that they can't seem to escape it.
This time, though, they may have found just the right place to help them exorcise what ails them. Their new hometown has Spook, who has a pregnant friend, a demon belt buckle, and a way with spirits, as well as a host of other folks who are ready to take Marcus and Micah's problem on. Things get complicated quickly, and nothing is what it seems in this fast-paced urban fantasy.

Much love, y'all!

BA Tortuga

No comments: