The Vampire's Curse, A Paranormal Romance (Undead in Brown County #2) by S.J. Wright Read Free Book Online Page A

leaving for college after graduation and not moving back. Nashville is a small town, unlike its namesake in Tennessee. There are not very many jobs to be had around here. All the high-school kids catch the part-time work in the restaurants and gift shops. A few college graduates might get a position managing one of the larger Inns, but for the most part, there is nothing here for college graduates. Therefore, the majority of my friends from high school moved away. Except for Kara.
    Kara Beauchamp originally moved into town with her parents and her big brother Matt back in 2002. Their parents were determined to open their own boutique for dogs, selling ridiculous-looking little capes and boots to the upper-class families that make it a point to come down to Brown County several times a year. They called the place Sassy Bitches, a name that raised a huge storm of controversy within the social circles of our little town. Despite the local uproar over the name of the store, the Beauchamps hung on resolutely, and during an off-season slump in sales, Kara’s mom, Carol set up a website and began to sell their products online. It became an overnight success and drew a lot of attention to their tiny little store off Main Street. Kara became an integral part of the business structure, because she knew so much about online marketing. She had decided to stick around Brown County once things really took off. This was great for both of us.
    However, when I found out that my Dad was sick and everyone around me was dripping with concern and pity, I began to shut people out of my life. That included Kara. By the time Dad passed away, she and I only spoke when we ran into each other by chance at the grocery store. Those had been awkward, hasty conversations that always made me feel like a complete shit for slamming the door so suddenly on our friendship.
    As I sat in the parking lot of Bill’s, I considered not going inside. This was just another relationship that was messed up in my insignificant little world. I was not really in the mood to try to fix anything. However, for some reason, I pushed away the doubts and fear. I found a parking space around the corner from the main entrance, pulled in slowly and put the truck in park.
    Grabbing my wallet, I stepped out of the truck into the chilly night air and took a deep steadying breath. It was going to be okay. I’ll just have a drink or two and then go home. No problem, I thought.
    When I opened the heavy wood door, a rush of noise and cigarette smoke assaulted me. Somebody was playing Metallica on the jukebox that glowed in the corner between groups of talking people. There were small explosions of laughter here and there. One of the waitresses was serving pitchers of beer to a group of guys by the pool table.
    I looked to the bar where the owner, Bill Gibson, was deep in conversation with the high-school football coach. Bill’s grim expression and the shaking of his head indicated that Coach Morton had probably just been cut off from the Jack and Cokes he reportedly had too many of each night.
    There were a few empty bar stools. I chose one closest to the door in case I needed to make a socially unacceptable hasty exit. I had not seen Kara yet, but I had only gone over the crowd for a second to make sure that Trevor was not there. It was always possible that one of his friends might have driven him to the bar. Or one of the dozen or so clueless women who imagined that he was telling the truth when he said he loved them.
    “ You’re not twenty one yet.” Bill teased gently, snapping me back from my bitter musings. He came over to me with a towel draped across one shoulder. My Dad had been friends with Bill since they had been in grade school together. Both of them had grown up here. A year after my Mom left us, Bill’s amazingly sweet wife, Kathy, had died from breast cancer. It was the kind of loss that draws old friends together in hard times.
    “ According to my birth