Brownie Oxford and the Ashland Affair: Brownie Bk1

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asking myself repeatedly for years. 'Remember what Swift said, Nie, ' I told

stones I could read had dates later than the 1850s. The weeds grew thick around the half tumbled stones, proving there were few visitors. Many of them had fallen flat, the grass rising around the horizontal sto

g the cars on the mostly vanished road, we spent a good half hour stumbling through grass on a path I couldn't see, before crossing the rusted iron fence surrounding the cemetery. Normally I would have complained about hiking

ift gave me a small GPS tracker designed as a charm for my bracelet. For once I was actually wearing it and I pressed the sides of the small charm as we walk

earrings. If it helped Swift find me, the fashion police could declare it a victory in coordinating accessories. The GPS was active and sending out its electron

that they wore the big guns casually gave me pause. They wore them as though they were accustomed to spending long periods with the strap on their shoulders. So long

nightmares

'Thug' as you would with the others. Snake was more their description. They looked like the brokers who would funnel your money into an untraceable

we reached the cemetery. The low light from the moon had turned the world into a black and wh

happen, to me anyway, on the full moon nights. Generations of superstitions were hard to break. I caught the flash of teeth a

nerves. The scent of freshly turned earth filled my senses. I thought it strange, considering the age of the cemetery. The smell remained; newly turned earth in old burial grou

confused, " I said. "W

other to shift his large gun from his shoulder and into his arms. Apparently, he didn't think he would need the gun to de

m a little hazy on." I told him. Mr. Salesman raised his hand, made a sharp shooing motion and the goon stepp

dent too if I were him. I tried to hold my fear and anger inside and speak calmly, as though this were some sort of rational business discussion. After all,

s all powerful, high mucky-muck, wo

u are." H

I were, then it seems to me there would be a couple of problems. You

apable before giving you specifics." He told me, still smiling and nodding as if as

ly, a z

I didn't, possibly both. With my luck, I was guessing bot

e them go all crazy and start snacking on anyone nearby. That wo

ecoming zombie snacks and weren't entirely trusting of the men in suits to stop the chow down. I was certain Swift would be pleased w

control, Ms. Oxford. I have do

ere was a library I knew nothing about. Maybe he would give me the address if

sn't with the utter belief that the person you were talking to could actually make a zombie rise from some handy-dandy grave. Even stoners tended to think of it a theoret

esman b

olling a killer zombie, why would I not turn it on the people forcing me to raise it in the first place?" I asked. "It isn'

t I was planning on letting him see it, I just wanted to feel pretty all the way down to my skin. Dressing up was a rare occurrence for me and I wanted to m

shifting of weight among the goons. They

hoot you, " he told

much about weapons, but the guns they had looked as though they could shoot a lot of bullets in a very short period of time.

on, which would be you, " I said indicating the group with a sweep of my hand. I saw one of the men flinch at the movement. I decided not to move much on the off chance they we

bie running amuck in the middle of nowhere? There aren't any terrified cit

sh and clipped. He did not like my deviation from his set schedule of events. As he looked like someone who routin

s slave kind that tamely does your bidding?" I nodded as though deep in thought, my mind whirling to pu

t to use. I hoped Swift was on his way. I could feel cold sweat on my body and was surprised my wildly thumping heart couldn't be heard in the quiet cemetery. At the mome

they couldn't smell my fear. If Swift didn't hurry, I had the feeling I might die of fright before they actually got a chance to shoot

mething else to sacrifice in order to even raise a zombie in the first place? They always have them in the movies, unless the

ir eyes widening in realization. One of them started tracing the strap of his gun with his fingers as though it were a talisman agains

round here, " I said, "No chicken

t of zombie raising when agreeing to take the job. I think that aspect even bypassed Mr. Salesman's thought processes. It made me feel better. Mr. Salesman may believe and more than likely had seen a zombie or two, b

onfer with the suits. I took a small step backwards. Perhaps I could make it to the tree line before they

ld try running in the heels or ditch them and run barefoot through the woods. Neither option sound

were concentrating on the low conversation between their leader and the men with the money. I hoped the rustling

en by a mountain lion,

larger than me. I gave a small yip of surprise and saw stars as my head hit the edge of a fallen tombstone hidden in the grass. I struggled a bit under the weight, my mind still

of Irish Sp

p grass fully dressed with a strange man wearing bulky protective gear lying on top of me. It was weirdly intimate, yet strangely disc

world quieted and the man on top of me slowly shifted his weight back. He pushed to his feet and offered me a hand to help me ris

beginning to rise and make me nauseous. It didn't help that the world was a little wobbly around the e