Suck My Life (Sucking Dead #1) - Andie M. Long
Mya
Sometimes we had to make tough choices in life.
Like whether to pay the credit card bill or buy the on sale Louboutins.
I was so glad that I’d chosen the Louboutins that month.
Because I wouldn’t need to worry about paying the credit card bill, and I’d face another tough choice. Where this one had been about being good or being tempted by red soles, the next would be red blood and bad souls.
Suck my life.
I walked into the bookshop where I worked and I sighed a happy sigh. I loved it here in the medium-sized popular chain bookstore with its bright lights and darkened corners, occasional chairs, and coffee shop upstairs. The smell of coffee wafted downstairs regularly, along with a clatter of coffee mugs.
Some people would go grab a coffee first. Especially if the day was wet and cold, they’d go warm themselves up before purchase. But most took their bags of newly bought books upstairs with them. Every single day at some point I’d wander upstairs to spy at the individuals in their seats pouring over their new purchases and smile, happy that during my working day our store had brought joy to people’s lives. I was a big believer in manifesting and you being put on earth for a reason, and I’d smile to myself thinking that this was it. My soul’s purpose was to guide people towards the twenty-six letters jumbled in a miracle of a fresh story that would lift and enthral.
“Any chance you could stop blocking the doorway and actually start work?” Cathy, my supervisor stood in front of me with a raised brow and a hand on her tilted hip. She shook her head at me and laughed. “Every damn day, girl. You live in a daydream.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I just love my job and my workplace. I like to start by being thankful for the day I’m on and commit to bringing some happiness to others.”
“Yeah, well then get your coat and bag put away and start doing exactly that with our customers.”
I stuck my tongue out at her but went to put my things in my locker.
Behind the counter, I looked out over the store to see who was in already. Which customers knew exactly what they were looking for, heading with intent and purpose to the shelves; and which weren’t sure but knew that somewhere in this store there was the answer to their yearning. A middle-aged woman was pulling books out of the travel section, intent but debating which was the better guide and would lead to a better holiday. I saw one of my colleagues, Jenny, stroll over to her, and a look of relief hit the woman’s features as Jenny asked her the questions which would ensure her holiday from an itinerary point of view was the best planned ever.
“Excuse me?”
I turned to the right-hand side of the counter where a slim, tall, dark-haired man stood. My heart rate quickened because this guy was hot. He looked like he could use some red meat, but his eyes were the green of an emerald, framed by long lashes. He smiled from his pink pouty lips, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth.
“Can I help you?” I asked him.
“Oh yes please. I’m wondering where I’d find Rachel Caine’s books?”
This man read paranormal? Was he the man of my dreams? Had I actually managed to manifest him?
“Paranormal and Fantasy is over there.” I pointed towards the rear of the store.
“And that’s where I’d find her vampire books? The Morganville series.”
“Oh they’re upstairs as they’re classed as teenage. I’ll take you up there and show you where they are.”
“That would be great, only I’ve heard good things about them. Got to love a vampire, haven’t you?”
“Absolutely,” I grinned. It wasn’t every day a hottie walked into the store.
I told Cathy with a nudge to her arm and a nod of my head that I was off to help the customer as she was serving someone. She did a surreptitious placing of her hands on her thighs, both hands, all ten digits. She rated Hottie a ten out of ten. With a quick grin, she returned her attention to her customer. I returned my attention to mine.
“Okay, let’s show you the goods, err, books. I mean, show you the books.”
Hottie grinned at me, indicating up the stairs. “After you.”
I focused on trying to not trip over my own feet and not being tempted to wiggle my butt in his face. Only it had