Banshee Kiss — Feisty Heroines

Stranded between the living and the dead, Morgan’s been trapped for years where people barely see her aside from the reapers. Creatures that take souls and kill, Morgan’s tried to warn and save people even since her “death.” But no matter what, the reapers always won. She’d all but given up on helping people until she spots a man with eyes of ice blue.

One touch sends electricity firing down her spine, Dane breaking every vow she took to stay out of the reapers cross-hairs. But in saving him from whatever lies beyond for the death, she’s accidentally trapped him in the same in between stage.

How will they survive against millions of reapers circling for their souls in a world where only they can see and touch each other?

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Excerpt from Banshee Kiss

Morgan leaned further off her stool, watching the man who just had the full force of death crack through his ribs. Pain struck her that, for once, wasn’t alcohol based. He sat alone, his voice drowned out by music, his face shadowed by the lights. No one would hear his last cries. No one would run to rescue him. He would die without a single soul noticing.

Her feet fell to the floor, an ache inside pulling her closer to the man. Foolish. She stopped warning them… Morgan flipped her watch around as if that would tell her.

Banshee, a woman who could predict death. That’s what one old man shrieked as she leaned in his ear and told him he was about to die. But it gave her a purpose in her wandering non-existence.

Except, warning people, telling them that the inevitable was about to befall them did nothing. They’d turn, see her in that second, then fade to dust on the wind. And every time she stepped close to the dying, the reapers would sense her and the meal they’d missed.

So, rather than risk her own hide for a stranger’s moment of peace, Morgan took to drinking instead. It seemed a good enough pursuit for a decade’s existence. Why then was she inching closer to the man clustered with reapers?

Even with death in the room, dancers blocked her path. Life pulsed through the bar, obscuring her from the reapers and allowing Morgan to take in the man about to fade to nothing. He looked out of place, like he’d been tricked into coming to this bar. A long face with a chin to crack walnuts, his eyes were set deep against a roman nose. The lips, surprisingly supple on such a harsh face, lay flat in an unfeeling grimace. He practically screamed “I don’t want to be here.”

But those eyes. Even at a distance, even with shadows cutting lines across his face, she couldn’t escape his eyes. Pale as a morning frost, they glowed from deep inside his sockets as he observed the spectacle before him.

And he had no idea what was about to happen.

The reapers’ lackadaisical floating shifted, their non-existent faces all turned toward the man about to die. It was now or never. Morgan jumped the two steps onto the alcove where his table perched. The man didn’t look at her, nor would he, until she reached out and touched him.
What the…!

A spark ripped between them, locking her fingers around his arm. The pulse of pure energy raced down to her toes, causing her sluggish heart to pound harder than it had since the accident. Slowly, those frost blue eyes drifted to the side. Morgan was frozen, watching in his thrall as the dying man’s pupils shrunk to pinpricks.

He saw her.


Are in grave danger.

Will die tonight.

Her usual platitudes, perched on her tongue for the near-deceased, fizzled away. Every step Morgan took, every city she visited, every long night guarding against the reapers one fact held true: she was alone. No one glanced her way, no one shared more than a mumbled word of surprise should she jostle them. She was a breathing, exhausted, hungry ghost in a world forever tumbling into the grave.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered, reaching her hand into a pocket tucked deep inside her coat.

“Wha…?” the stranger asked, confused by a random woman grabbing him, but there wasn’t time. The reapers’ interest shifted, the fog around their bodies snapping to a deathly red. They found her.

Slamming her lids shut, Morgan yanked the pin and hurled a flash grenade into the air.