Beach Blanket Bloodbath (Amanda Feral Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page B

website and local Facebook page comment thread about
hauntings. The news drew thrill seekers to the house from far and wide but they
always left dazed and a little thinner. Drained of some of the red stuff.
    It was quite the racket.
    And I had to say I was more than a little
jealous that his food was delivered free of charge and sans gratuity. But I
wouldn't trade places with him. Not since his boyfriend Vance left and the
depression rolled in like a fog bank.
    He was probably moping around his
lavishly appointed basement right then, dwelling about the last time he got “catfished”
or commiserating with some online friend about why guys only wanted to send
fang pics. He'd tell them no and then the very next text was some lewd shot of
their big fat fangs, usually slathered in saliva droplets or some other bodily
fluid that isn’t captured often on Instagram.
    Those weren’t nearly as bad as the bait
and switch vamps that lured him in with shots of six pack abs and showed up
with pony keg guts. Of course, Gil would immediately forward those pics to
Wendy and I, no matter how vomit-inducing.
    I texted Gil and looked up from my phone
just in time to witness Wendy angrily pound the horn. I swatted her hand aside
and pivoted in my seat for the inevitable confrontation.
    “Oh no, bitch. You need to get a grip.
We're going to be together for a few days and not just because we're trying to
beat a cruise ship down the coast.”
    “I know. I know. We're mending fences.
It's our mending fences road trip. I might add that the last time you talked me
into one of these, you ended up with a boyfriend…”
    For what that’s worth, I thought.
    “…And I ended up with a hole in my
mid-section I had to pack with newspaper. It wasn't cute.”
    I cringed, remembering the clean lines of
the blast, you could see right through her—just like when she tried to
lie—but those were the risks during a zombie outbreak, people get shot.
But she couldn’t hold it against me forever, could she?
    “Listen. It's not going to be like that,”
I said. “We're going to have a great time. Hang out with Gil—”
    “And Abuelita,” a small voice bit the
words out from the shadows of the back seat.
    I rolled my eyes. “And Abuelita. I’ll
sign a few books; we’ll feast on some seaside delicacies, meet up with
celebrities at Gil's Vein Train thingy in Sonoma and just generally have a
great time. Maybe even give you a reason to unlock the chastity belt and air
out the lady bits.”
    Wendy chuckled at that, but didn't let
the change in her mood stop her from reaching over and slapping my horn again.
    “Gah!” I yelled.
    I followed her gaze to Gil's loping
silhouetted form, a huge suitcase teetering atop his head like the shadow of a
hammerhead shark. When he broke into the cone of the streetlights Wendy and I
both shielded our eyes.
    Now, vampires aren't known for their
Caribbean bronze tans, but Gil's sequestration to his basement for lo these
five months had stripped his skin of nearly all its pigment. He was marble
white and that's never a good look. It's terrible advertising, for one, because
it reminds a buyer of those ancient statuary of nude men with micro-penises.
And in this world full of size queens, that's the last thing a gay vamp wants
to nestle into a potential lover's mind.
    I hit the Volvo’s trunk
button—thanking God we’d decided to grab my car; all our luggage would
have never fit into the stolen one. After some rumbling and rearranging of
luggage, Gil barreled into the back seat, staring undecidedly at Abuelita and
then cramming himself between the front buckets to kiss Wendy and then me on
the cheeks.
    “And one for you, too, Chiquitita!” His
lips smacked wetly against Abuelita's neck. “I'm diggin' the eyebrows by the
way, very Mosquita Gang-Banger. Muy caliente.”
    I glanced in the rearview to see a row of
gold teeth glinting as the born-again chola smiled—at least someone knew
how to menace. Now, if we could only