Grave Humor
R.J. Blain
(A Magical Romantic Comedy)
Publication date: May 12th 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Paranormal, Romance
Most days, Anwen regrets working at a funeral home despite the good pay. With the residents no longer inclined to stay in their coffins where they belong, she’s got her hands full making sure everyone follows the rules:
In the funeral home, there is no screaming, no murdering, no mutilation, no possessions, no kidnappings, no resurrections, and no cursing of any type. Be quiet and stay polite.
The day Old Man McGregor decides to take a walk and disturbs her peace, Anwen learns there’s a lot more to the basement in the funeral home than a vampire and a handsome gentleman on ice.
If she’s not careful, she’ll learn first-hand why ‘eternally yours’ is the most potent of threats.
Warning: this novel contains romance, humor, bodies, shenanigans, and mythological puppies. Proceed with caution.
Excerpt:
Personally, I
liked cremation. Any urn would do, and you could store the ashes in a plastic
container if an urn wasn’t available, although I’d heard of a few unfortunate
incidents where someone had left their loved one out where a cat might use them
as a litter box.
There wasn’t a
whole lot anyone could do about urine-contaminated ashes, yet somehow, once a
year, someone would stroll on in asking how to get
Fluffy’s excrements out of their granny.
Oy, oy, oy.
At least Old
Man McGregor wouldn’t be showing up again as a victim of cat pee and poor
handling.
I straightened
my shoulders so I wouldn’t sigh at the unfairness of it all. Old Man McGregor
would prove a challenge, but I really wanted my damned honey rocks, and the
only time I got them was when the dead returned to their rest without breaking
any of the funeral home’s rules.
“You’re not
going to do this the easy way, are you?” I asked, careful to keep my tone
pleasant and curious rather than expose my readiness to rip what remained of
his internal organs out through his right nostril.
“When have I
ever done anything the easy way, missy?”
With that one
question, I gave up on my attempt to be the immaculate professional. I sighed.
“You’re going to cost me this week’s groceries, aren’t you?” Not only would he
cost me the rest of my groceries, my honey rocks would be a dream within a
dream.
It’d been so
damned long since a corpse had actually cooperated with me. The last time, Mrs.
Theault had been the one to do the screaming, and it’d taken an entire night of
talking to her to get her to return to her casket. Everyone handled death a
different way, but Mrs. Theault’s problems broke my heart.
She’d been
headed to heaven.
Her husband
had gone to hell.
The whole town
knew why, but it took death and some help from me to guide her back to the
light where she belonged.
Author Bio:
RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.
In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until satisfied.
This was such a fun read for me! I loved the combination of so many supernatural
ReplyDeleteelements!