The Undead Crimefighters

Sophie just wants to be a normal girl. Too bad she's a vampire.

Now she's part of an odd assortment of undead and immortal beings who have banded together to fight against the supernatural, protecting mortals from death and undeath.

Join Sophie and her friends through adventures, mysteries and the rocky road that is young love.

Praise for Undead Crimefighters:

"I must say, sci-fi/fantasy fiction isn't normally my style, but I enjoyed 'Sophie and the Wolf'."
~~ From The Unprofessional Critic

Now, here's an exclusive preview of Sophie and the Wolf!

All five of us had our secrets to hide.  That wasn’t abnormal for high school, really.  It was the content of our secrets that made us freaks.
“I used to love fries,” I said when Sherie snagged one from my plate.
“Just think of all the fat you’re not taking in,” said Thalia.  “I’ve got round enough hips that anyone could tell how much I love fried food.  My mother never had that problem.”
We could barely hear Amalia’s whispery ghost-voice over the other students.  “Your mother drank Ambrosia and ate grapes all day,” she said.
I chuckled, and picked up a French Fry, examining it.  The buttery-yellow outside was cracked, greasy, and dusted with thirty-five salt crystals.  Sometimes, my super-senses amazed me.  Looking at the fry, knowing what I was missing, well… stupid vampire senses…
I shoved the fry into my mouth.  It tasted like dirt.
As I tried to chew and swallow, Peter walked by, smiling at me.  “Hi, Sophie,” he said.
I choked. Even though I couldn’t die from asphyxiation, my eyes teared up and breathing was difficult until I coughed it up.  Peter sat across the table, apologizing.  The others glared at him.
“We’ve got this,” said Thalia.
“Are you okay?” Peter asked.  Again. He was so nice. I hated that I couldn’t be nice back.  I couldn’t encourage him, much as I wanted to.  Being too friendly with the live-ones was always too dangerous.  For them.
“Bye, Peter,” Thalia said.  She and I got up. I waved a little. His face was all red, matching his adorable hair and burning up his freckles.
Too much attention was on us as Thalia and I went back to the dorm. The panic rose in and around me.  I smelled fear and blood everywhere.
None of these people even knew why they were afraid of me.
“Get me out of here,” I whispered.
In my embarrassment, my instinct was to lash out.  I suppressed it as much as I could, but the longer I stayed near all the weak mortals, the harder it got to control myself.  I could kill several of them in less than a minute.
The hallways were blessedly empty.  Thalia kept a strong hold on me.  “We’re almost upstairs.”
She unlocked our door, and I raced to lean my head out of the window as far as it would go without me falling out. The savory traces of blood lingered, but it was better with the fresh air.
“Better?” asked Thalia.
I swallowed and nodded.  “Sometimes I hate that I still go to school here.”
“Yeah.  Tell me about it.  If my mother hadn’t plunked me here, do you know where I’d be?”  She didn’t let me respond.  “I’d be with other demi-gods in New York, having a smashing time on the Upper East Side.”
“Unfair,” I said, automatically.  It was always the appropriate response when Thalia complained about her mother or her life here.
“Completely unfair.”  She went to her room in the suite and continued to talk, though I couldn’t understand what she said.  Not that it mattered – it was probably all stuff she’d put on her blog later anyway.  I had more important things to do.
I dressed in my hunting gear.  All black, very melodramatic, and superhero-cool.  I was the only one who didn’t use weapons, other than my hands, but I carried a small, jeweled knife anyway.  Mostly because it was a gift from Thalia and Sherie when I joined the League, but also partly because one day I wanted to learn to throw knives.
I slid the knife in its sheath, then Thalia, Sherie and Amalia, our resident ghost, met me by my window.  We descended to the ground together.

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