Monday Snippet: Flight From Death

Here’s your Monday Snippet!
FLIGHT FROM DEATH — Book 1 of the Fly By Night Series (a spinoff of Otherworld)Release date: July 7th, 2015. Available for Preorder! If you want an autographed copy, preorder from Seattle Mystery Bookshop. Preorders help authors out SO much!

You can also preorder Autumn Thorns, book one of the Whisper Hollow Series, now!

As he left the room, I dug into my pancakes. They were light and fluffy, and thoroughly delicious. It was easy to see how Patrick would be able to keep all his guests happy, both the bloodsuckers and those still living. Ralph was fidgeting with the monitoring devices, calibrating them he said, and Alex was making notes, when a loud clanging echoed through the room as the skillet flew off the stove, scattering grease everywhere as it sailed past Alex, missing him by a couple of inches.

Alex jumped, his pen and notepad flying. Ralph blinked and looked back at the stove. I set down my fork, distinctly unhappy that pancake time was over.

“What the hell?” Alex headed toward the stove as Ralph punched a couple buttons and held up what looked like something from the pages of the Techno-Geek catalog. It made me think of a sophisticated toy, actually, but it was blinking with an orange light and making some sort of noise, and I had the feeling that it wasn’t just a cosplay prop.

“Alex . . . there’s something in the room with us.” Ralph pushed his glasses back on his nose. “And whatever it is, it’s just the tip of the iceberg.” His voice sped up as he stood. “Look at this—the reading is off the charts. I know we’ve seen some funky things in the Greenbelt Park District—that’s the most haunted area in Seattle—but this is bigger.”

Alex was at the stove, examining the burners. He tore off a couple paper towels while he was at it and began to wipe up the grease that had spilled all over the floor. Meanwhile, I gingerly picked up the skillet and carried it, along with my plate, to the sink. I followed Alex’s lead and helped him clean up the trail of grease that had splattered out of the pan as it went flying above his head.

“What’s going on?” Patrick entered the kitchen, business card in hand.

“Your ghost decided to take a swipe at me with the sausage pan. Made a mess with the grease and nearly bludgeoned me, it did.” Alex tossed the paper towels. He returned to the table. “Let’s get back to business, shall we? And if that’s your witch’s name, give it to Shimmer. Shimmer, please contact her in the morning, as well as looking into the history of the house. Ralph, I want this place wired. We need to find out where the strongest energy is emanating from—that’s probably where the ghost is anchored.”