Yes indeed, folks, Demon Dog (Mojo Mysteries book 1) is now available in lovely, molestable paperback. Yay! Exciting :D It’s on discount right now on the Samhain Publishing website, or you can get it on Amazon, at your other favorite third party retailers (hopefully), or possibly even at your local bricks-and-mortar book store. Check out the blurb and an excerpt below, or the links here to purchase the paperback. Enjoy!
One juicy mystery, mustard and relish included.
Three years after solving the hundred-year-old murder case that brought them together, Greg Woodhall and Adrian Broussard have settled into life together in the colorful college town of Chapel Hill. Adrian’s doctorate research and Greg’s two jobs keep them busy, but they have each other and life is good.
When Greg is offered the chance to help Bay City Paranormal scope out the historic PlayMakers Theater’s rumored spirits, he’s excited to get involved—at first. But as the protoplasmic trail unexpectedly shifts to DogOpolis, where Greg works part time, he senses something in the air besides the mouthwatering aroma of gourmet hot dogs.
There’s an entity that the team can’t quite get a handle on, but it’s creating havoc in Greg’s relationship with Adrian. Things that leave him doubting his own sanity. When the team finally uncovers the truth, no one is prepared for the danger—or what they’ll have to do to stop the thing plaguing DogO before it stops them. Permanently.
© Copyright 2013 Ally Blue
Greg Woodhall burst through the employee entrance of DogOpolis, Chapel Hill’s one and only gourmet hot dog palace—as the proud owners called it—five minutes late. “Traffic,” he explained before the daytime manager could turn around from her inspection of the refrigerator’s thermostat. “Sorry.” He clocked in and sprinted for the break room to change into his uniform.
“Traffic, my tired feet. There’s bike paths all the way from your place.” The manager, Elena Sims, followed him. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and forehead creased in a fierce frown. “Besides, I’ve personally seen you ride up on the sidewalk to go around a traffic jam, so don’t give me that.”
Busted. He opened his locker, peeled off his tank top and threw it inside. The sandals came off next, then the shorts, both adding to the pile on the floor of the locker. He turned to face her, giving her the full-frontal force of his very best puppy-dog face plus his boyfriend’s favorite tiger-print thong. “I just got going a little late this morning, Len. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
She pursed her lips, but he knew she wasn’t actually mad. “Okay. Seriously, though, make sure you’re on time from now on. You know lunch is our busiest time.”
“I know.” He lifted his dark green uniform pants out of the locker and stepped into them, shooting Len a wide smile. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Oh, yeah, I understand, all right.” She aimed a pointed stare at his chest, which bore several purple marks courtesy of that morning’s mattress romp. “Which reminds me, say hi to Adrian for me.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you.” Grinning, he fastened his pants and reached for the matching green-and-white shirt.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re on the register today. C’mon out when you’re done changing.” She turned to leave, stifling a yawn behind her hand.
As Greg shrugged into his shirt, he heard a shuffling sound behind him. He pivoted, expecting to see Len coming back into the room.
She wasn’t there. Neither was anyone else.
He frowned. Was he hearing things, or what?
Not that he had time to worry about it right now.
Shoving the uncomfortable thought to the back of his mind, he finished buttoning his shirt, pulled on the socks and shoes he kept in his locker for work and hurried after his manager.
It happened again while Greg was ringing up one of his former UNC professors, although he didn’t realize it at first. After all, it was a busy afternoon. His fellow employees dashed back and forth behind him all the time. It took him a few seconds to notice that neither Denise nor Malachi had moved from the registers on either side of him.
He glanced around as subtly as he could. Everyone else was in the back. So whose footsteps had he heard right behind him just now?
On the other side of the counter, Dr. Clark let out a loud sigh. “Still with the attention span of a gnat, I see. Did you get my order, or do I need to repeat it?”
Behind the sweetest smile in the history of smiling, Greg smothered the urge to say things that were completely inappropriate in the workplace. “Two turkey dogs with mustard and coleslaw, an order of O chips and a large unsweetened tea.” He added gratuitous eyelash-batting when the professor’s nose scrunched as if he was disappointed that Greg had heard him the first time. “That’ll be ten-eighty, sir.”
Dr. Clark handed him a credit card. He swiped it, gave it back and set the pad on the counter for a thumbprint.
He heard the footsteps again as he was handing Dr. Clark his tray. This time, Greg didn’t look. He didn’t want to know.
By the time his shift ended at five, the combination of an unusually busy afternoon and too many sounds without people attached to them had Greg jumpy and worn out. He changed back into his T-shirt and shorts before getting his and Adrian’s dinner dogs together so no one could keep him working. Damn, he’d never been so ready to go home in his life.
“Hey, G. Your O chips.” Malachi handed Greg a large bag of homemade kettle chips fresh out of the fryer. “I put in a thing of that chipotle ranch dip Adrian likes.”
“Awesome. Thanks.” Greg tucked the chips into the big plastic bag along with Adrian’s salsa verde dogs and his own mustard and cole slaw ones. “See you at rehearsal, yeah?” He had a part as a chorus member in the current PlayMakers Repertory Company production—job number two, though it didn’t pay as well as DogO—and Mal ran the lights and sound.
“I’ll be there.” Mal saluted him with a grin, brown eyes sparkling.
Greg laughed as he made his way to the employee entrance in back. “Bye, Len,” he called to his manager, who was ringing up a customer at the drive-through. “See you tomorrow.”
She glanced at him. “Bye, Greg.”
Between the office and the break room, a dark shape moved at the limit of Greg’s peripheral vision.
He turned, goose bumps rising on his arms. Malachi, Eden and Crystal continued at their respective tasks up front. Len had moved out of the drive-through window to gather the order. She gave him a curious look. “Greg? Did you need something?”
He looked around. He could’ve sworn whoever he’d seen was bigger than Len, who practically had to stand on a box to work the drive-through, but no one else was there, so it must’ve been her.
It had to have been her. Had to have been a person. Something real he saw and his brain misinterpreted. Creepy black shapes were a whole level up from footsteps, and dammit, he did not want to play that game.
“Naw. Thought I forgot something, but I have it.” He answered her frown with a grin that hopefully hid the way his pulse suddenly raced. “See you.”
He strode outside, sliding his shades over his eyes, and went to unlock his bike from the rack. Forget about weird sounds and shapes and stuff. He really wanted to eat dinner with Adrian before rehearsal tonight, and he had to hurry if he wanted to make that happen.
Dinner secured in the basket on the front of his bike, Greg swung himself aboard and started up the bike trail toward his and Adrian’s cozy little apartment a couple of miles away.
He smiled to himself as he rode. Sure, he bitched about his low-wage wiener-slinging job and not-exactly-starring role in the play, but that was all hot air. He knew how lucky he was. Especially when it came to the best part of his life—Adrian Broussard.
The thought of Adrian in bed that morning—tousled black hair, big dark eyes, sexy, kiss-swollen mouth, and oh God that gorgeous, naked body—spurred Greg to pedal faster. If he made it home in time, maybe they’d have a chance for more than dinner.