Today I have the honor and pleasure to welcome the one and only J Morgan. This is an author I adore and have known for many years. Someone who has inspired my and kicked my butt when the need came. You don’t want to miss this episode of Watch Out. Vampires, zombies…oh my..
Whatever happened to the Vampires?
New OrleansDaily Enquiring Mind
After yet another zombie outbreak on the historic streets of downtownNew Orleans, this reporter can’t help but ask, where have all the vampires gone? Sure, a few years back we were bemoaning them being everywhere, but with the smelly undead walking like they own the city how we wish we could have those creatures of the night back. But, what is causing this rise in cases of the walking dead? Perhaps, the answer can be found in the backlogs of our own newspaper.
Beginning as far back as the 1700’s, the dead have been uneasily laid to rest in our fair city. Thought 1792 is the first reported instance of the dead walking our streets, legends go much further back. Amazingly enough, in every instance one name keeps popping up. Augustine Dupres, though I seriously doubt it is the same man who wears that name today, constantly seems to be at the center of these visitations upon the city. Similarly, Katyarina Descartes’ name also appears quite frequently in the sorted history ofNew Orleansunderbelly. What connection these share is up for grabs, but this reporter plans to discover it at his earliest convenience.
I was able to uncover a third name associated with these two long time residents, Caern Chevalier. Though, he hasn’t made an appearance in nearly a hundred years, the man was at the center of the last zombie outbreak recorded by none other than Gustav Hiddleman, reporter for the Daily Inquiring Mind. His report is sketchy but by all accounts this Chevalier might have been the sole reason that we aren’t living in a zombie dominated world today. So, color me surprised to discover not one day ago, a man matching exactly an old photograph of Chevalier was sighted outside the doors of the infamous Scarlet Letter gentleman’s club. Could this new outbreak be once again linked to resurfacing of this figure?
A better question, could all those factors tie into the work of the serial killer The Red Cardinal? Detective Eliza Marrone, the detective in charge of the investigation, declined comment. Not that I expected much else. Her inability to crack this high profile case has left many citizens wondering when the mayor’s office will have enough and kick this investigation into more established hands. this reporter can only assume someone in power knows what they’re doing. We all know what assume will buy you? Well, it’s bought this city a war zone, and I can only hope when the war is over this city is still standing. Or, that we’re not all dead with an insatiable hunger for brains.
For the Daily Inquiring Mind, this is your reporter in the field, J. Morgan wishing you a good day, and a monster free night.
Caern swore to never return to New Orleans, his death warrant making the choice easy. Well, easy until his past returns to smack him around. Now, he has to return to the one place where death isn’t a possibility, it’s a guarantee. And only a matter of time. Searching to find a murderer out to kill the grandchild he never thought to meet, he finds himself falling into a hell he just might not be able to crawl free of. His only hope lies in Detective Eliza Marrone. Falling for her isn’t in the cards, but his heart tells him it might be the only thing he can’t escape. Zombies, old lovers and psychopathic vampire clergy, yeah those are things he can deal with. True love on the other hand is the one thing he’s always avoided. This time there’s no way out. It might get him killed, or end up saving his wretched soul.
“Yeah.” Caern winced at the shattering of glass. “Let’s go before they break through. I don’t like the idea of facing them in this enclosed space.”
“Me either,” Eliza agreed. “If I’d known this day would end with a zombie apocalypse I’d have packed an extra clip or five.”
“You aren’t the only one.” Caern thought his nine hour sadly inadequate for the job at hand. He hoped Raiz had thought to grab his bag. In all the rush, he’d forgotten all about it. “Eliza, take point. Steph and I will play cleanup. If it moans, shoot it. Don’t think twice.”
She set a round into the chamber. “Head shots, I presume.”
“Sure, it might work. These aren’t your movie zombies. Dupres controls them. Head shot might sever the connection, but if it keeps moving, go for the knees. A disabled zombie is just as good as dead one.” He set his own round. “Bites won’t turn you into one, but it’ll give you crap amoxicillin won’t touch. Think Ebola and leprosy all wrapped into one.”
“Nice.” Eliza bent in and kissed him on the tip of the nose. “Caern, you take me to the nicest places. By the way, that was for luck. You get me out of this alive, and I’ll show you how lucky.”
“Were you just flirting with me, Detective Marrone?” He wondered what type of lucky that might entail.
“If you have to ask, you’re not old enough to find out.” She pinched his cheek. “We better play nice before we make somebody upchuck.”
“Meet you on the other side.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “Don’t be a hero. Things go FUBAR, you grab Deborah and fort up somewhere until it’s safe.”
“Same goes for you. Just because you’re half vamp doesn’t mean you’re indestructible.” She bent close and whispered. “Or irreplaceable. Don’t make me regret not killing you when I had the chance.”
Caern brushed his lips across her cheek. “I think that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, I’m a sweet talker.” She pushed him back. “I’m through being mushy. Let’s go kill something.”
“As you wish, milady.” Watching her walk away had to have been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Just knowing what they were about to jump into, it took every thing he had to stop himself from going caveman and shove her in the nearest broom closet and lock the door. The fire in her eye told him what would happen. She could handle herself. Like the rest of them, she was a warrior born.
That didn’t keep his heart from skipping a beat, as she led them down the narrow hallway to the rear of the hotel. Each open doorway they came to sent another pang of fear racing through him. The shouts echoing behind them only made it worse. If he could have got his hands on Dupres, Caern would have gladly throttled the life out of the undead bastard. He settled for killing some of his pets. If anything happened to Eliza or Deborah, all bets were off. Caern would pile corpses around him and burn this whole city down around his rotting ass.
Available December 11th
Desert Breeze Publishing
Also Available through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and iBooks
Where in the net is J. Morgan?
My Yahoo Newsletter
My much forgotten Website