Lastly, I thought I’d share the first scene of the novella with you!
Had I known I was going to face down death today, I totally would’ve bought myself the Slurpee.
Instead, I walked out of the convenience store with a single packet of mints and a magazine. I touched the homeless man who lingered outside. His bloodshot eyes cleared a bit, that too-bright edge to them dimming to a more normal sheen.
I ignored the onlookers who snapped photos of me from their smartphones and headed for my white Mustang.
My cleavage buzzed. A second later, “Bad boys bad boys, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you …”
I groaned. Perfect timing for a call from the L.A.P.D.
They were the sister organization to the Los Angeles Supernatural Department, or L.A.S.D., which I was a part of, and we often teamed up to fight crime in southern California.
I reached down the front of my gold jumpsuit, noticing that even more people had stopped to take pictures while I fished the device out. I waved at them and smiled.
Really needed to invest in pockets.
“Hey Ramirez,” I said, lifting the phone to my ear as I hopped into my car, “thought you lost your phone.”
“He found it,” said an unfamiliar voice. “Bottom of his locker. This is Officer Jensen. Ramirez told me to call you on his behalf.” I’d never heard of Officer Jensen. Had Ramirez gotten a new partner without telling me?
“Why isn’t he calling me himself?”
“He’s talking to the fire department at the moment.”
Shit. I gripped my phone tighter. The police and the fire department in one location? Something happened.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“An electrical fire broke out at the K–12 Reading Center in South Central, just off of Slauson Avenue.”
My stomach bottomed out. “What?”
“Know the place?” he asked, hearing the tone of my voice.
“Yeah, I do.” I went to the Reading Center during my free time and hung out with the at-risk kids.
I rubbed my eyes. “How bad is it?”
“Bad. Firefighters haven’t been able to get inside. Place is locked up, windows are barred.”
My palms were already beginning to sweat. Not the kids. I hated emergencies with kids. “How many are trapped inside?”
“Don’t know. We think two to three dozen.”
“M’kay, I’m on it.”
I started up the engine and flipped on my siren.
Move the hell out of the way people, I’ve got some kids to save.