Bio: A Southern girl with an overactive imagination, Terri Garey grew up in Florida, always wondering why tropical prints and socks with sandals were considered a fashion statement. She survived the heat by reading in the shade, and watching cool shows like The Twilight Zone and the classic gothic soap opera, Dark Shadows. Balancing a career in computing with marriage and motherhood convinced her that life was too short to rely entirely on the left side of her brain, and quirky ideas about life among the undead began to replace the dry logic of computers. Deciding imagination was her best weapon in the war against reality, Terri dove even deeper into the world of the unexplained, and started writing her own devilishly delicious tales from the dark side.
BOOKS BY TERRI…
Dead Girls Are Easy, A Match Made In Hell, Weddings From Hell,
You’re The One That I Haunt and Silent Night, Haunted Night are part of an ongoing series
about Nicki Styx, a former Goth girl
who becomes an unwilling ghoulfriend to the dead.
Devil Without a Cause and A Devil Named Desire are Book #1 and Book #2 in her Devil’s Bargain series.
For more information, check out Terri’s website: click here
THE GHOUL NEXT DOOR
Excerpt from Chapter 3:
The pounding on the front door caught James unaware. It came again, and he heard Cassie’s hurried steps on the stairs. He opened the door to his room to find her on the landing outside, heading downward.
Seeing him, she froze, her eyes moving from his face to his bare chest; he hadn’t had time to button his shirt. Despite the insistent pounding on his front door, he found himself hoping she liked what she saw, because he certainly did.
She’d freed her hair from its ponytail, and even damp, it framed her heart-shaped face perfectly. Her black t-shirt and jeans clung to her curves as though molded, and he felt his balls tighten at the sight of her nipples, pointed and erect.
His earlier offer to bring her a dry shirt had been for his benefit, not hers, but damned if he was going to tell her that.
“There’s someone at the door,” she said, turning those incredible green eyes away as she hurried past him, on her way downstairs.
“Wait,” he ordered. “Don’t answer it.”
“Why not?” She reached the foot of the stairs a few seconds before he did.
“Think for a minute.” He was right behind her, buttoning his shirt as he descended the steps. “You’ve already opened one doorway tonight… do you really want to open another?”
She paused, hand on the doorknob.
The pounding hadn’t stopped. It grew louder, in fact, wilder, as though whoever—or whatever—was on the other side was determined to get in.
“Granny Jane just told me that opportunity was knocking, and it was up to me to let it in.” Slowly, she removed her hand. “But as much as I hate to admit it, you may be right.”
The admission surprised him, as did what she said next.
“You open it.”
She had nerve, this one, and while it annoyed the hell out of him, a part of him secretly admired it. “Why would I do that?”
Cassie shrugged, stepping away from the door. “You keep telling me that this is your house, not mine.”
“I don’t need more trouble than I already have,” he told her. “You cut through the veil between the living and the dead on All Hallows eve… there’s no telling what’s out there.”
A flash of lightning, followed by the loud rumble of thunder, punctuated his statement.
“Help,” came a voice from the other side of the door. “Help me, please!”
The voice was distinctly feminine, and very much in distress. “Is anyone there?” The doorknob rattled as someone tried it from the outside, and James was glad of his unconscious habit of locking it behind him. “Oh, help me, please!”
Cassie’s eyes went wide with surprise, and if he weren’t mistaken, more than a touch of relief that the voice was human.
He, however, was yet to be convinced that opening the door was a good idea. He gave her a warning look, and shook his head.
“We can’t just leave her out there,” Cassie hissed, reaching for the knob again. “She sounds terrified.”
James caught her hand, unprepared for the surge of power that raced up his arm. Maybe it was those pert nipples, but what he felt was definitely sexual in nature, heating his blood in a way he’d never felt before. Whatever it was, Cassie felt it, too, for she cried out, trying to wrench her hand away.
He wouldn’t let her, in large part because it felt so damn good, but mainly because he really, really didn’t want her to open that door.
Something wasn’t right, and he wasn’t going to let the bolt of lust that shook him put them both in danger.
“Please,” the woman shrieked, her voice nearly drowned by another clap of thunder. “My boyfriend’s hurt! He’s bleeding!”
Cassie’s breath was coming fast, as was his. She’d stopped trying to pull away, and was just staring at him with those big green eyes; eyes he could lose himself in, if he let himself. Her breasts rose and fell, her damp hair tumbling over her shoulders like moonlight.
“Shit,” he muttered, and let go of her hand. Turning away, almost eager for a fight, a distraction, anything to keep himself from crushing her against him, he jerked open the door.