By Wm. Mark Simmons
A yr in the past, Chris Csejthe (pronounced "Say-thee") was once thoroughly human-then a blood transfusion with the Lord of the Undead replaced every thing. Now he's a hunted guy, sought by way of human and vampire alike for the secrets and techniques he understands and the powers that his mutated blood may possibly bestow. to date he is dodged undead assassins, werewolves, a 6,000-year-old Egyptian necromancer, and Vlad Dracula himself. yet now he is fairly bought difficulties. The useless are turning up on his doorstep after darkish to invite for justice and the police need to know the place all these corpses are coming from. Undead terrorists are trying out a doomsday virus on his new place of origin and he is stuck within the crossfire among a white supremacist defense force and the resurrected Civil struggle lifeless. His werewolf lover, jealous of his useless wife's ghost, has left him. And the centuries-old and nonetheless very attractive (and very lethal) Countess Bathory is set to have his uniquely reworked blood for her personal darkish reasons. Now, greater than ever, lifestyles sucks!
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Additional info for Dead on My Feet (The Halflife Chronicles)
The turban wobbled but held. She moaned and her eyes rolled back in her head. The electric tingle intensified, crawled up my arm. ” I asked. Her only response was another moan as the tingle crawled across my shoulder and up into my head. I tried to pull my hand back but it was enclosed in a grip of velvet-sheathed iron. The current slammed home in my brain, knocking me out of the room and down a dark corridor, a tunnel not unlike the one I had traversed when I had nearly died the year before. Memories fragmented and unfolded, waltzing across my eyelids like an acid-edged kaleidoscope.
Perhaps it was a reflexive response to the sudden darkness. Or maybe the thrumming rhythms of the physical act of running triggered ancient predatory presets in my hindbrain. No matter, I went with it. I needed the practice and it made the scenery more interesting. Imagine humidity as a color: blackish red. With swirls of dark purple like eddies of smoky black light. Mindful of the glimmering yellow splotches signifying the thermal decay processes of rotting garbage, I thought about dropping by to see if anyone was in this late in the evening.
About this Book . . Dead on my feet THE LIVING DEAD WERE MAKING HIS LIFE A LIVING HELL . . A year ago, Chris Csejthe (pronounced “Chay-tay”) was completely human—then a blood transfusion from the Lord of the Undead changed everything. Now he is a hunted man, sought by human and vampire alike for the secrets he knows and the powers that his mutated blood may bestow. So far he's dodged undead assassins, werewolves, a 6,000-year-old Egyptian necromancer, and Vlad Dracula himself. But now he's really got problems.