Home > Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)(9)

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)(9)
Author: Robyn Peterman

“Dude,” Gemma gasped, “you have no reflection.”

We stood in silence absorbing this news. I tried several different angles in case there was a trick to it, but no go. It was strange . . . my clothes were invisible, too. Anything I touched ceased to have a reflection.

“Okay, fine,” Gemma said, rubbing my back, “maybe this is the price you have to pay for being so drop dead gorgeous. Oh hell, I didn’t mean the dead part . . . I just meant . . . ”

“It’s okay,” I said morosely. “Apparently, I am dead.” My eyes filled with tears. I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose, trying to ward off the panic attack that was hurtling towards earth at frightening speeds. I was headed for a massive freakout.

Gemma grabbed me. “Let me describe you,” she said soothingly.

“Okay,” I blubbered, wiping my tears. “Oh my God, my eyes are bleeding!” I shouted.

“Shut the hell up,” Pam yelled from down the hall. “All Vamps cry blood, cum blood, drink blood. Blood, blood, blood . . . it’s all about blood with you dead people.”

“That’s disgusting,” I said. I looked at Gemma, my eyes wide, “I wonder if I have any other bodily functions?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like do I still need to buy toilet paper and tampons?” I answered.

“NOPE,” Pam yelled from way down the hall.

“Wow, she’s got really good hearing,” Gemma grinned. “Do you want to know what you look like?”

“Um . . . yes.”

She stared at me for about a minute and tilted her head to the side. It was a very long minute. She was making me nervous.

“You’re beautiful,” she said simply. “I mean, you were beautiful before, but it got kicked up a bunch of notches. You’re the kind of gorgeous where it’s hard to stop looking at you. Your skin,” she touched my face, “is paler, but it’s perfect. It glows . . . it’s ethereal. Your hair is a darker, richer brown and really shiny. Your lips,” she examined my face, “have that I’ve-just-been-majorly-kissed swollen look. You still have that beauty mark high on your left cheekbone. Your eyes are that really cool amber gold color, but they sparkle now. And if I’m not mistaken, your eyelashes are longer, like they weren’t long enough already.”

I knew I was being vain, but I glanced toward the mirror again wondering if I just had to warm up or something . . . Nothing. Shit.

She circled me. “I gotta say, your body’s jammin’. Rock hard abs. Legs are still long. Your boobs are definitely bigger and your butt’s higher. Overall you’re beyond hot.” She smiled and squeezed my hands. “What do you feel like?”

Well, that explained my girls trying to escape from my bra. “I feel really strong and fast,” I said. “I can hear really well and I can smell things.”

“Do I smell?” Gemma did a quick pit check.

“You smell good, like rain and orchids.”

“Ooooh, cool.” She was delighted. “What does Pam smell like?”

“Pop Tarts and cotton candy. Gem,” I paused, “do I have an aura anymore?” One of Gemma’s hobbies was reading auras. She could read people before they opened their mouths. She had a gift for it.

“No.”

“Is that okay?” I whispered.

“I think so.” She hugged me. She felt warm and comfortable.

“Does Pam have one?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Gemma answered reverently, “it’s a pearly white with shots of purple and pink in it. It’s the most beautiful aura I’ve ever seen. It’s truly angelic.”

“Do you mean to tell me that foul mouthed Oprah doppelganger really is my Guardian Angel?”

“Yep,” Gemma giggled.

“Somebody up there must really hate me,” I moaned.

“Yep.”

Chapter 4

It was my first full day of being dead and it sucked.

I wavered between total freakout and dead calm mode . . . it just depended on the minute. Right now I was calm. I dutifully sat on the couch, pen and notebook in hand. I was wearing my favorite worn-in red tag Levis, a totally cool vintage Tony the Tiger T-shirt and some killer Prada flats. Being dead had a few advantages. I filled out my jeans and my T-shirts like a Playboy centerfold. The girls were amazing. I was a full C cup and they stood at attention even without a bra, which was a good thing considering none of my bras fit anymore. Of course I was also dead, couldn’t breathe and had no idea if my hair was alright because I had no fucking reflection. On the flip side, my vision and hearing had also sharpened to the point I felt bionic. Not to mention my sense of smell. I’d almost passed out when I walked by my garbage can earlier. Why in the hell could I smell things if I couldn’t breathe?

Sitting here with Pam felt a little like high school, getting lectured and taking notes, but this was different. This was a class I had no desire to take.

“What did I just say, Asswipe?” Pam asked me.

“Um . . . something about how to bite mortals to drink their blood.”

“Go on,” Pam replied, putting several Piggly Wiggly grocery bags on the coffee table in front of her.

“Well, after that I’m not sure ‘cause I got so gacked I tuned you out.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re gonna end up killing somebody,” Pam said, slapping her big meaty Oprah hand to her forehead.

   
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