Trailer Park Vampire Series
Book One: Shotguns and Shifters
The day the fog rolled in, everything in Windy Ridge changed.
Neighbors and friends I’d grown up with got turned into wolfmen, lizardmen, gargoyles, and other unmentionables. As for me? I got turned into a vampire.
Most folk thought the rapture was upon us but soon it was fairly obvious that we weren’t playing witness to some holy event. In fact, I was fairly sure we’d just witnessed something mostly unholy.
Regardless, life in our little town in the middle of the Ozarks returned to what passed for normal.
Until two human outsiders rolled into town.
Because I was one of few residents who still appeared human, I was responsible for making sure the town went into hiding until them humans moved right on out again.
But what I wasn’t planning on was the fact that one of the strangers was none other than Dean Hawke, a man I hadn’t seen in twenty-three years—a man who also happened to be my high-school sweetheart.
But wait. There’s more…
Not only had my ex-boyfriend walked right back into my sorry life, but he was also the newly appointed ‘Sheriff of Windy Ridge’—and his first assignment was investigating accounts of a naked man who was terrorizing locals.
Now if that weren’t enough to ruin a vamp’s day, Sheriff Dean Hawke had, like George Clooney, only gotten better with age, and I was pretty sure all those real deep looks he kept giving me had their own kind of meaning.
But between trying to keep the town’s secret under wraps, spearheading my own investigation into the naked man with a bunch of hillbilly monster chasers, working my shift as a waitress at the local diner, and trying to smother my ardor for a certain human sheriff, I’m thinking life might be easier if I packed up my daughter and caught the next train to Transylvania, leaving Windy Ridge far, far behind.
Book Two: Hillbillies and Hellhounds
There’s never a dull day in Windy Ridge.
When I’m not trying to play mama to a restless and spirited teenager, I’m out in the woods trying to round up monsters.
And let’s not even bring up my love life—something that’s been nonexistent for years.
That is until an old flame from high school decides to step back into my life. And my heart.
The only thing is… Sheriff Dean Hawke (the above-mentioned old flame) seems to be hiding his own secrets. Whenever I try to bring up his past, he deflects or ignores the subject altogether.
And that’s definitely one of those things that makes you go hmmm…
Of course, I can’t think on the secretive sheriff for long. Not when things in Windy Ridge are getting downright infernal, with random fires popping up all over the danged place.
Quick to pick up the scent of the burning trail, I’ll find myself in the big city, the sheriff by my side, as we try to get to the bottom of the mystery of the burned-out remains of the Thatcher house.
In the process, I might just be able to put to bed one of the sheriff’s own mysteries.
All in a night’s work by Windy Ridge’s own vampire waitress and monster hunter…
Book Three: Gut Rot and Gargoyles
Something sinister's afoot in Windy Ridge…
When my mole-rat boss (and I do mean that literal like) goes missing, I’m pretty sure something wicked this way already came.
Because Dorcas isn’t the type to miss a shift at the diner, let alone missing three danged days!
So, when Sheriff Dean and I go looking for her, and we find her trailer all topsy-turvy, the writing is pretty much on the wall. Dorcas has been mole-rat napped!
Not only that, but the singular clue left in the pile that used to be her trailer is a stone arm—one that’s as animated as Dr. Frankenstein’s creature.
Only problem? That animated arm’s got no mouth so he can’t tell us what happened.
Things only go from strange to stranger when I discover a lost dog in the cemetery. Come to find out, that lost dog is the answer to everything that’s happened.
Throw in the facts that my fangs have been hunkering for Sheriff Dean’s jugular, and Sicily’s pa decides to make a grand entrance into our lives, and my life’s just about as dramatic as one of them daytime sitcoms.
It’s times like this that I wish alcohol still had an impact on my vampire physiology ’cause if this ain’t a good enough reason for a shot o’ moonshine, I don’t know what is!
Book Four: Bumpkins and Banshees
When it rains, it pours in Windy Ridge…
When my ex, Alton, unexpectedly arrives in Windy Ridge with arms full of roses, I know we’ve got us a problem.
And not just because I’m not looking to start up anything romantic with him.
It’s more like Alton is human, and he’s just witnessed a diner full of fog-created creatures.
To say that man has just suffered the shock of his life is putting it real mild like.
Things only go from bad to worse when one of the locals, a crow shifter named Georgia, winds up with an arrow in her throat.
Now we’re faced with a whodunit.
Before I know it, I’m looking at Alton as a possible suspect. Not only does he know archery, but he’s been acting dang strange ever since he found out the truth of Windy Ridge.
And weirder still? Alton keeps hearing the shrill scream of a banshee, the spirit of a woman who wails whenever someone’s about to die.
Well, I’ve had just about enough of things going upside down in this backwoods town, so I’m gonna get to the bottom of this mystery right quick.
I can only hope I solve it before that banshee gets to screaming again.
Book Five: Rednecks and Redcaps
It’s the calm before the storm…
When my ex, Alton, arrived in Windy Ridge, I never thought he’d decide to stay.
And that was a big assumption on my part because now that Alton’s here, I can’t get him out of my business.
And there’s a part of me that seems to be just fine with that.
I don’t know what’s going on with this vampire physiology of mine, but it seems like I can’t keep my fangs retracted where Dean and Alton are concerned, and that’s gonna send me right into crazy territory.
And what’s worse? The two of them are now working together—trying to build up some kind of law system for Damnation County.
And I’m more than sure they’re comparing notes where I’m concerned.
As if that weren’t bad enough, I think there’s another killer on the loose.
Only this killer isn’t targeting our citizens, but the natural wildlife of Windy Ridge. And I’m pretty sure whoever’s responsible isn’t one of the crazies in the woods.
When an enormous black bear shows up dead in the center of the street, with five claw marks swiped across its belly, I’m worried that something wicked this way already came.
And whatever it is, it’s still stalking the woods…