Coffin Fit (The Grateful Undead series Book 4) Read Online Free
Author: Susan Stec
skin. "See? Tell me God isn't forgiving."
Jeni pulled a bright purple MP3 player out of her shorts as she kicked off her shoes. "Aerobics time; we humans need to work at staying young. Maybe you dead-chicks should join me."
I glanced over at Zaire, still sitting on the white leather couch, directly under a mounted deer head. She tried so hard to hold her laughter she had blood tears rolling down her coffee-colored cheeks. When she saw me staring, she knuckled the tears away, wiped them on her jeans, and said, "This is better than stand up."
Plugging in a set of earbuds, Jeni clipped the MP3 player to her t-shirt.
"Do y'all not see my skin peeling?" JoAnn asked, her gaze bouncing off each of us. "Uh-huh, God is cleansing me of all vampiric possession."
Bats in the belfry.
"Him, and Oil Of Olay 's Daily Exfoliating Body Wash," Mom mumbled.
Nose in the air, JoAnn strutted into the kitchen and ripped a piece of paper towel off a spool dangling under the cabinets by the sink. She ran it under the faucet, squeezed out the excess water, and walked back past Mom with all the arrogance of a cat on a mission.
Resi said, "Aunt JoAnn, you know your skin is sun-fried and flaking, right? I can't even walk by the front windows in the morning without getting a little color."
In the living room a few feet away, Jeni hopped sidewise, one knee pumping while she strummed an air guitar.
"JoAnn," Zaire offered, "you need to drink more blood. It helps."
"I'm fasting until I lose ten pounds." Joann said, and alternately spritzed Windex and wiped down the sliding glass doors with the dampened paper towel.
Jeni slid across the oak floor in her stocking feet, hand whipping the strings of her guitar. Her deep red hair was damp and hung in chunks near her neckline.
With a furrowed brow, JoAnn continued. "Okay, okay, pretend you don't know what's happening. Don't listen. Don't pray. I'm gonna check online to see if the aging cream company sells a full body cream. And I was reading about diatomaceous clay, the fossilized remains of marine plankton, and its cleansing and healing powers. So when my dead skin finishes sloughing itself into a slower aging process than yours, and my body is free of demonic possession, you have no one to blame but y'all's selves for not joining me."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," Jeni squawked, and bit her lower lip, chin jutting and head bouncing.
Zaire leaned over and effortlessly moved her clunky black boots farther from the stuffed gator. Her tight jeans barely creased the dark almond flesh over the top of her belt. She stood and rubbed a flat, firm tummy under her wife-beater tee. With gray eyes sparkling and full lips smiling, Zaire said, "Speaking of blood, we got any?"
"Came this morning." Resi grabbed the flab over her jeans and gave it a shake. "In the fridge."
We'd signed a contract with Buffy, the receptionist at BAMVC to have our blood supply shipped directly to our door three times a week when we joined the BAMVC family. BAMVC was a multi-million dollar Morizzio-family operated corporation that dishes out blood and managed Otherworld creatures. They have an import/export business as a cover.
With her heart-shaped butt bouncing, Jeni danced and twirled her way across the living room floor, arms high and fingers snapping. She seemed to be enjoying her exercise routine. It made me smile.
"The internet has a lot of stuff on it," JoAnn said. "Did you know there's a drug called blood-cocaine?"
Everyone with fangs turned toward my sister.
"Why are you searching for drugs, Aunt Jo?" Resi spoke in her best Dora the Explorer voice.
Maybe I should yank her Internet away.
"Because cocaine curbs your appetite." JoAnn tossed a soiled paper towel into the trash can at the end of the breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the large living room, dining room combo. "Y'all don't get it. I am seriously going on a health cause. And I strongly suggest you join me."
"Régime," I said, "or you could say 'on a health
Jeni pulled a bright purple MP3 player out of her shorts as she kicked off her shoes. "Aerobics time; we humans need to work at staying young. Maybe you dead-chicks should join me."
I glanced over at Zaire, still sitting on the white leather couch, directly under a mounted deer head. She tried so hard to hold her laughter she had blood tears rolling down her coffee-colored cheeks. When she saw me staring, she knuckled the tears away, wiped them on her jeans, and said, "This is better than stand up."
Plugging in a set of earbuds, Jeni clipped the MP3 player to her t-shirt.
"Do y'all not see my skin peeling?" JoAnn asked, her gaze bouncing off each of us. "Uh-huh, God is cleansing me of all vampiric possession."
Bats in the belfry.
"Him, and Oil Of Olay 's Daily Exfoliating Body Wash," Mom mumbled.
Nose in the air, JoAnn strutted into the kitchen and ripped a piece of paper towel off a spool dangling under the cabinets by the sink. She ran it under the faucet, squeezed out the excess water, and walked back past Mom with all the arrogance of a cat on a mission.
Resi said, "Aunt JoAnn, you know your skin is sun-fried and flaking, right? I can't even walk by the front windows in the morning without getting a little color."
In the living room a few feet away, Jeni hopped sidewise, one knee pumping while she strummed an air guitar.
"JoAnn," Zaire offered, "you need to drink more blood. It helps."
"I'm fasting until I lose ten pounds." Joann said, and alternately spritzed Windex and wiped down the sliding glass doors with the dampened paper towel.
Jeni slid across the oak floor in her stocking feet, hand whipping the strings of her guitar. Her deep red hair was damp and hung in chunks near her neckline.
With a furrowed brow, JoAnn continued. "Okay, okay, pretend you don't know what's happening. Don't listen. Don't pray. I'm gonna check online to see if the aging cream company sells a full body cream. And I was reading about diatomaceous clay, the fossilized remains of marine plankton, and its cleansing and healing powers. So when my dead skin finishes sloughing itself into a slower aging process than yours, and my body is free of demonic possession, you have no one to blame but y'all's selves for not joining me."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," Jeni squawked, and bit her lower lip, chin jutting and head bouncing.
Zaire leaned over and effortlessly moved her clunky black boots farther from the stuffed gator. Her tight jeans barely creased the dark almond flesh over the top of her belt. She stood and rubbed a flat, firm tummy under her wife-beater tee. With gray eyes sparkling and full lips smiling, Zaire said, "Speaking of blood, we got any?"
"Came this morning." Resi grabbed the flab over her jeans and gave it a shake. "In the fridge."
We'd signed a contract with Buffy, the receptionist at BAMVC to have our blood supply shipped directly to our door three times a week when we joined the BAMVC family. BAMVC was a multi-million dollar Morizzio-family operated corporation that dishes out blood and managed Otherworld creatures. They have an import/export business as a cover.
With her heart-shaped butt bouncing, Jeni danced and twirled her way across the living room floor, arms high and fingers snapping. She seemed to be enjoying her exercise routine. It made me smile.
"The internet has a lot of stuff on it," JoAnn said. "Did you know there's a drug called blood-cocaine?"
Everyone with fangs turned toward my sister.
"Why are you searching for drugs, Aunt Jo?" Resi spoke in her best Dora the Explorer voice.
Maybe I should yank her Internet away.
"Because cocaine curbs your appetite." JoAnn tossed a soiled paper towel into the trash can at the end of the breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the large living room, dining room combo. "Y'all don't get it. I am seriously going on a health cause. And I strongly suggest you join me."
"Régime," I said, "or you could say 'on a health
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