Pisk nodded in agreement.
Ava programmed the coordinates for their first stop, hit a button, and the ship entered hyper speed. Leaving Xenorel’s moon behind, she began her new career hurtling through a blaze of stars, with new experiences waiting to be found.
Enjoy this preview of Half-Bitten by PJ Hawkinson
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Prelude
“I’m bored,” a young woman, by appearance maybe eighteen years old, said for the hundredth time. “Why can’t we move, we’ve been here more than long enough.
A boy who appeared to be the same age as the girl agreed with vigor, “Come on Damien, it’s time to go somewhere new. These hills have lost their appeal,” he referred to the hills near the surrounding city of Edinburgh, in Ireland, where they lived in luxury in a smallish castle.
Damien looked at the two complainers, and then turned to the third member of his family, “What about you? Do you want to leave also?”
A boy, around the same age as the other two, or at least by appearances, glanced up from his studies of Divinci’s art with mild confusion. “Leave,” he said, “and go where?”
“Spin the globe Damien,” the girl suggested. “It’s my turn to close my eyes and stop it from spinning. This will be fun; I know I’ll stop it at a good place.”
“Sure,” the first boy said with sarcasm, “and if your finger lands in the middle of an ocean are we suppose to go there?”
“Ha, ha,” she laughed falsely. “Come on Damien, what do you say?”
Damien sighed and rose from his position at an exquisite grand piano. He had been playing a haunting tune when his oldest two children had rudely interrupted him. Now, he moved to a beautiful globe centered on an ornate mahogany stand. Reaching out a long finger, he gave the globe a nonchalant spin. The young girl closed her eyes, stuck out a finger, and stopped the globe from spinning.
“Where are we going?” asked the first boy.
She squinted at the globe, and then frowned, “Spin it again, Damien,” she demanded.
“Nope, that’s not the way it is done,” said the first boy. “Where are we going?” He moved forward and looked, “Oh lord,” he groaned. “She’s right, spin it again.”
The second boy came to look and said with a laugh, “You know the rules. As long as Damien spins the globe, where it stops is where we go. Peering at the globe, he said, “And it looks like we are off to the center of the United States of America. Better start packing.”
Damien frowned and then sighed hugely, “I’ll contact movers, and find us a place to live.” Turning, he was gone.
The center of the United States of America was the home of a young girl who was exactly the age she appeared. This girl was living her live in a decent way, going about in the ways of fifteen year old girls, but for the last year she has been teetering upon turning a corner of life; the wrong corner.
As she moves towards this corner, another family moves towards her; a family that could mean her salvation; or her death. Let’s meet her and find out…………….
CHAPTER 1
My name is Gertrude Penelope Purdy. I know, terrible hunh; I’m named after both my Grandmothers so I honestly can’t complain, at least not aloud.
I’m not much to look at; I’m 5’6” tall, 102 lbs, built on the slight to medium side. I’ve got pretty nice tits and my ass isn’t big, but, I wish my waist was smaller. My eyes are liquid green. I have heart-shaped lips and a slight crook to my nose.
My hair is plain old brown, wavy, and tends towards curly when the weather is damp; I usually iron it when it gets that way. My voice is medium. I’m just your average plain-Jane, your ordinary, everyday girl. That is, right up to the time I am bitten by a vampire. However, that is yet to come.
As to my personality, well, I think it is lacking; I never seem to be able to be ‘cool’ like the other kids no matter how hard I try. Consequentially, I tend to over try on everything to make others like me. I certainly don't care about girls much, but boy do I want the boys to like me.
When I was growing up, I always tried to act sexy around the friends of my brother Davy. Davy is six years older than I am and I'm sure I embarrassed him when he had friends over to our house. Whenever they came over, I would hang around, swing my hips, and poke out my non-existent tits. Not that any of them ever laughed at me; they just ignored me, which definitely did not help my low self-esteem problem.
I’m 15 now, and me and a lot of kids my age go to the races every weekend. Most kids are dropped off in groups by one of their folks about 7 pm, and then picked up by another about 11 pm when the races are over. Need I say that I don’t have a close friend to ride with to the races? I always ride with my next-door neighbors; I jump out as soon as we get to the track yelling that I will see them after the races. I don’t want the other kids to know that I have to catch a ride with adults instead of friends. Oh, and do I even need to mention none of us have ever watched a race?
All of us kids usually hang out near the concession stand with us girls flirting with the boys that hang around. I always have to resort to measures I am not at all proud of in order to be noticed above the rest of the girls. While they all flirt in a no-contact manner, I have to resort to full contact.
Take for instance the time Peter Remsky, a cute 19 year old, was the target of the flirting for a couple of months. Peter was eyeballing all the other girls and no matter how hard I tried, he never seemed to see me. I started dropping hints that I could offer more then the other girls: I would coyly suggest that I like to French kiss or suggest that it was kind of cold and maybe we could get warm by getting closer. Finally, my hints got his attention and we started to do a lot of hugging, and even managed some French kissing (it was new to me but I caught right on). However, the whole time he had his body smashed against mine, he was still looking at the other girls, and all the while, the other girls were calling me a slut under their breaths or, sometimes right out-loud. Hurt!