Please help me welcome Jenn Windrow to my blog today!
Evil's
Unlikely Assassin
An
Alexis Black Novel
Book
One
Jenn
Windrow
Release: June 6, 2017
Genre : Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Muse It Up Publishing
ISBN: 1771279222
ASIN: B06XH9ZFD4
Number of pages: 290
Word Count: 80K
Cover Artist: Erica Petlit Designs
Tagline: Sometimes it takes evil to
kill evil
Description:
Vampire
Alexis Black is on a mission - to rejoin the human race.
Coerced into signing an ironclad
contract by an Angel-with-attitude, Alexis must hunt down and assassinate at
least one vampire, werewolf, or creepy crawly every night for fifty years to
become human again. Too bad the contract didn’t mention the badass vampire who
now rides shotgun in her brain, insatiable bloodlust, or her new
I-hate-everything-with-fangs sidekick. If she can fulfill her end of the
bargain, her humanity is restored, if not she will be destroyed.
But when a revenge-seeking
bloodsucker threatens her city, Alexis must risk everything to ensure there’s a
humanity to return to. Since her vampire nature is her greatest weapon to
defeat the monsters that threaten her friends and future, Alexis must choose to
accept her inner beast or watch those she loves die.
"Evil's Unlikely Assassin is a promising urban fantasy debut that features all that's great about the genre--action, attitude, and ass-kicking." -Jaye Wells, USA Today bestselling author of The Sabina Kane and Prospero's War series
Excerpt:
Tonight’s job had
me sitting in a shadowy corner of a dead-end dive watching the unfortunate, the
hopeless, and the degenerate. Had I known this is how I’d be spending my one
hundred and seventy-third birthday, I would have called in sick.
An aging cocktail
waitress hustled to over-serve society’s misfits. An ex-con, a dealer, and an
addict pissed their lives away at the far end of the bar. A trio of prostitutes
circled the room, their knock-off stiletto’s clicking on the wooden floor. And
a single cockroach scurried for cover before being squashed.
How would the
humans feel about me, the vampire, hiding in their shadows?
One of the
battered bar stools toppled, throwing its occupant to the filthy concrete. The
man, in a faded red and black flannel shirt, picked himself up off the floor.
Dingy jeans slid down his hips, revealing a pair of boxers far past the
expiration date for a wash. He bumped and weaved his way through the crowd,
ignoring the spilled drinks and curses he left in his wake, and cut a crooked
but determined path right to my table.
He collapsed into
the booth next to me, blocking my only chance at escape. “How’s ’bout a drink?”
I wrinkled my nose
at what had to be three days’ worth of sweat and grime, raised my bottle and
sloshed the liquid from side to side. “Still nursing this one.” I focused on a
faded picture of the Blues Brothers nailed to the wall and hoped he’d take the
hint. A sharp tap on my shoulder told me this guy was either clueless or didn’t
give a shit. My money was on clueless.
“What’s your name,
sexy?”
Oh how I wanted to
ignore his question, but the last thing I needed was Mr. Drunk and Stupid to
cause a scene and blow my cover. “Alexis.”
His grease-coated
fingers played “Get the Buggy” up my arm. I slapped them away before they got
past my elbow. “How’s ’bout we get to know each other better?” He gave me a
lopsided wink and ogled my breasts.
When he looked at
me, he saw what every other human did, a twenty-three year old, petite brunette
with large, light blue eyes. But if he leaned in close, he would see what
lurked below the exterior, something sinister and scary, with sharp fangs and a
deadly personality.
Blood
and Orgasms – An Alexis Black Short Story
I needed blood and an orgasm. Not necessarily in that order. At least that’s what Nathan’s been telling me
for weeks. I guess even best friends
can’t stand a moody bitch.
Good thing I’m a girl who likes to
multi-task.
I allowed Nathan to tart me up in a
black dress so low-cut, one wrong move would expose my not-very-abundant
assets. We headed to a local human hot spot, and walked past a line of scantily
clad woman and wanna-be Rico Sauvé’s.
Once inside, he sat me down at the
bar and pointed his finger in my face. “Alexis
Black, you’re not getting off that stool until some unlucky sod agrees to take
you home and shag you senseless.”
Sheesh. “It’s not going to take all night. We’ll be out of here before you know it.” I waved him off.
“Well, aim high, don’t hop on the
first one that comes your way.” He
rubbed my shoulders. “Relax. You’ll
scare away all the good ones.” He gave
me a peck on my cheek and wandered off in search of his own pulsing vein.
Ten minutes. Thirty minutes. Fifty minutes. Not one man approached me. I pulled a compact out of my purse and
checked my reflection. No food in my teeth. No objects in my nose. No fangs.
My stomach rumbled at the smell of
the blood pumping through the humans on the dance floor. So enticing I had to
grab the bottom of my stool to keep from snatching someone for a quick
bite. Next time I shouldn’t wait to long
to feed, but I liked drinking blood as much as I liked sitting in this club.
A tap on my shoulder, and my night
was looking up. I tuned around to meet my lucky admirer. The man behind me made my lips droop. Now I
was really depressed.
Mr. Mustard Stained Tie and
receding hairline pointed a ring-clad finger at my half empty glass. “Can I get you another?”
I was about to tell him no, but
then I saw Nathan’s desperate nod from across the room. Damn.
I’ve officially reached a new low.
I pasted an overly enthusiastic smile on my face. “I’d love that.”
He pulled out a stool and almost
toppled over trying to climb on. I grabbed his arm and helped him into his
seat. This evening was turning into a disaster.
I still needed blood, but I think the orgasm might be out of the
question. I looked at my only option for
the night, a dead ringer for Joe Pesci in the Goodfellas. The orgasm was definitely out of question.
For ten minutes I forced myself to
listen to the overeager human try to impress me with his less than stellar
achievements in life. Bored. Hungry.
Uninterested. I’d had enough.
“Want to go somewhere private?”
He opened his mouth to say yes, but
before the word fled his lips Mr. tall-dark-and-oh-my-god walked up. He grabbed
my hand, pulled me from my seat, and rescued me from what was sure to be a walk
of shame. We passed by Nathan, whose
cheeks were nice and rosy from his liquid dinner. He gave me a thumbs up.
I followed my last chance for the
night like horny teenager to a two-story red brick walk up. After he opened the
door, he gestured for me to go ahead of him. The room I entered was solid
white. White walls, white floors, white
couch, white leather armchair. And that
was all.
The door slammed. The lock clicked. I turned and my mouth fell open. Mr. tall-dark-and-oh-my-god was now sporting
a pair of solid black wings and a mischievous smile.
Things were not going as planned. "Who are you? What are you?"
"Caleb. Angel."
He gestured to the couch. “Sit. Please. Alexis.”
The words weren’t a request, and I
don’t like to be told what to do. “Not
gonna happen.”
“Fine.” He walked over to the chair, pulled his wings
in tight and took a seat. “You may
remain standing.”
I walked over to the couch and sat
down.
He let out a small laugh like I
amused him. “What a predictable creature
you are.”
“Since eating you and fucking you
seem to be out of the question, what do you want?”
He adjusted the crease of his tailored black pants and
the cuffs of his starched dress shirt.
“I have a offer for you. An offer
that will change your undead life.”
Small
Sacrifice
Armed guards pulled me from my cell, and dragged me over the
blood splattered Astro-turf. They shackled me to the goal post at the end of a
football field turned-execution-chamber, stripped me of my last remaining
article of clothing and left me to die.
Ten guards stood in a circle around me, machine guns pointed at
my head. They thought they were safe. Five television crews hurried around the
arena preparing for tonight’s broadcast. They thought they were safe. A priest
knelt in front of a vat of water, blessing it. He thought he was safe. I’m a
vampire.
No one was safe.
The announcer grabbed my chin with his pudgy, gloved hand. His
mouth spread into an ugly smile before he turned and blocked the crowds view.
He cleared his throat and spit. The warm glob landed on my cheek and slid down
before dropping to the ground. He would be the first to die.
For five days my human captors tortured me, punished me, abused
me. I allowed it. Their acts bought me time to plan my escape. The bitter blood
of a family of rats who shared my cell kept me alive, their donation helped
remove the last trace of poison that coursed through my veins.
Humans. They thought they got lucky catching one of the Seven
Sovereign leaders of the vampire race. It hadn’t been luck. I’d been set up. By
the six vampires I trusted the most. Betrayed, martyred, and left for dead at
the entrance of a Vampire Apprehension Station. Silver injected in my blood to
keep me compliant, close to death, to ensure I didn’t slaughter the humans.
Sacrificed because I didn’t agree with their vision of the future and refused
to cower to a lesser race.
Betrayal was an ugly thing.
But so was revenge.
The stadium lights flickered on and flooded the field in a cold
white light. I lowered my head and let my greasy hair shield my eyes from the
glare. Soft footfalls approached, bringing the all-too-familiar smell of body
odor and peppermint with them. For five nights the same pungent odor visited me
to pray for my undead soul.
My gaze followed the priest’s movements. He dipped a chalice
into a vat of water, and raised the cup in the air, drops of water sloshed over
the sides and fell to the ground. He walked over to me, the beads of his
crucifix clicking against the gold cross.
“Delano Melazi, I’ll ask you again. Shall I pray for your undead
soul?”
I ignored him tonight as I’ve done the last five times he asked
me this question. It wasn’t my soul he needed to pray for, and it wasn’t my
body they would be burying this evening.
A moment of silence stretched between us. He huffed and gestured
for the guards. Two hurried over. “Hold his head.” Warm fingers dug into my
scalp and forced me to meet the priest’s eyes. The twinkle in his baby blues
was more devil than saint.
“By the authority of the church, I mark you as one of the
damned.” He dipped his index finger into the chalice. The water rippled. He
pulled his finger out and pressed it to the center of my forehead. It sizzled
against my skin and burned along the two lines the priest traced with his
finger. My fangs sank into my tongue, holding back my agonized scream. I
wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of enjoying my pain.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,” he
finished. The guards dropped their hold on my head and it fell back to my
chest.
The holy water cross was meant to weaken me, to stop me from
fighting when the executioner came out and the real damage was inflicted. On a
less powerful vampire, a younger one, it was effective, but I was almost seven
hundred years old. I possessed more power than anyone knew, even the vampires
who sent me here.
The Sovereign leaders called my capture a small sacrifice, a
peace offering to the human race. I called it a punishment, a crime, an
injustice.
Static from the Jumbo-Tron played over the speakers. The
announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium. The crowd cheered, excited to
witness my demise. And they called the vampires monsters.
“This week, two brave VAU agents captured one of the Vampires’
leaders. Delano Melazi.” The crowd booed and hissed their hatred. “He alone is
responsible for the Nightclub Massacre.”
I had nothing to do with it, but let them believe what they
wanted. I had no quarrel with them, just like a wolf has no quarrel with a
sheep.
Once the crowd quieted down the announcer continued. “A tragedy
no human will ever forget. You’ve seen the pictures. Over one hundred and
thirty humans captured, tortured, torn to pieces.” He paused and stepped
closer. I felt the warmth of his flesh and heard the beating of his heart.
“This monster locked those doors. This monster slaughtered your friends and
family in cold blood. This monster deserves to pay.”
His words worked the already agitated crowd into frenzy. They
raised their fists high in the air and yelled for my death.
Just a few moments more, that’s all I needed. Seconds until my
power was restored.
The announcer’s fat fingers grabbed my hair, pulled my head back
and forced me to look into the camera. “Tonight he will pay. He will suffer. He
will die.” His words echoed around the stadium.
No one heard the handcuffs fall to the ground or saw me twist
his head or heard his last breath. No one knew anything was wrong until his
head slipped from my fingers and his body slid to the ground.
The crowd screamed.
The guards aimed their guns at my heart, pulled the triggers and
let the bullets fly in a flurry of silver and speed, but I was swifter,
stronger, superior.
Before the first bullet hit the metal pole that had bound me, I
was in front of the final guard in line. Ten beating hearts at my feet. Ten
gaping holes in their chest. Ten dead bodies on the earth.
I turned to the closest camera, the red lights still blinking,
but unmanned. “I am Delano Melazi.” I raised my voice over the commotion. “And
I will seek revenge against those who wronged me.”
The first blast of holy water hit me in the shoulder. It knocked
me off balance. The second hit me in the face. The cross the priest had drawn
on my head merely irritated me, but the onslaught of blessed liquid burned,
weakened and crippled me. It ran down my arm, melted the flesh off the bone.
I
had one chance to get out alive. With the last remaining bit of strength still
hidden deep in my reserves, I vanished. Teleported, a handy trick only I knew I
possessed, away from the stadium and the humans, but not the pain.
About
the Author:
Jenn Windrow loves characters that
have a pinch of spunk, a dash of attitude, and a large dollop of sex appeal.
Top it all off with a huge heaping helping of snark, and you've got the
ingredients for the kind of fast paced stories she loves to read and write.
Home is a suburb of it's-so-hot-my-shoes-have-melted-to-the-pavement Phoenix.
Where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and a slew of animals that
seem to keep following her home, at least that's what she claims.
Jenn's Urban Fantasy, EVIL’S
UNLIKELY ASSASSIN won the RWA Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal (FF&P),
“On The Far Side” writing contest in July 2014, top 5 in the RWA Desert Rose,
“Realizing the Dream” writing contest, and finaled in the Houston Writers Guild
annual writing contest in April 2014. It was also selected as first runner up
in Writers Type’s First Chapter Contest in April 2013.
Her Paranormal Romance, STRUCK BY
EROS placed first in the RWA’s Golden Pen Contest, third in the Ruby Slippered
Sisterhoods Make it Golden contest, and fourth in the West Coast Romance
Writers Beacon contest.
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