Sunday Sampler: Don’t Fear the Reaper


Summer is almost over. Can you believe it? Where did it go? Only a few more weeks of Summer Sunday Samplers left! This one from Don’t Fear the Reaper. Speaking of, Don’t Fear the Reaper is up for an award – The eFestival of Words awards for best YA 2013. It’s down to popular vote now, and I can’t tell you how much it’d mean to me if you gave it a vote. A lot of what went in to Reaper was truly heartfelt. I understand my main character’s grief over losing a loved one because I’ve lost quite a few. I can’t tell you how much those memories came flooding back when I wrote several scenes in Don’t Fear the Reaper. I’ll post how to vote at the end of the sampler.


Something brushed me and I yelped. Daniel’s head poked through the wall as though it were made of water. Wisps of fire-red smoke momentarily curled around his head before dissipating like chilled breath.

“Part two of the denial stage: the freak-out,” Daniel said as though this explained everything.

I pushed away from him, scooting across the floor and cringing against the opposite wall.

“Go away!”

“Wow. Self-loathing, brooding, and no sense of humor. I bet you were popular with all the guys. I was just trying to cheer you up. Look, let me tell you how it’s going to go. Maybe we can save some time here. You’re going to freak out for a few days, have a hard time coming to grips with your death. You’ll yell and scream and stomp your pretty little feet. We’ll feel bad for you and say nice things.”

He scrunched up his face. “Well, Banning will say nice things. Then you’ll cry some more and go into hysterics worthy of someone in a loony bin before coming full circle into the depression that landed you here to begin with. Finally, you’ll accept it. If you’re lucky, you’ll do all this before the week’s out and I escort you to hell. So, what do you say we just move this along a bit? Skip the denial, the freakout, the more denial crap. It’s overrated, anyway. Don’t you want to know how to pass through things?” His arm came through the wall and his hand briskly rubbed his shoulder. Another few wisps of smoke lingered, then vanished. “Ugh! I hate walls! Electricity!” He retreated back to the other side.

I scooted forward, away from the wall I was huddled against. I didn’t want to know how to pass through walls or anything else. I didn’t want to know about hell or reapers or anything except how to make things right again. I eyed the small laundry room window, wondering if I should climb through it or not. Then I realized I probably couldn’t. If what Daniel said was true, then I couldn’t move anything in the physical world with Aunt Jen right in the next room. If I knew how, I might be able to pass through the window as Daniel suggested, but that would be admitting I was dead. Irreversibly dead. Like them. Right now, admitting it felt like acceptance, and I wasn’t anywhere near ready for that.

I waited a second for Daniel to appear at the doorway, and when he didn’t, a layer of thin frost spread down my spine. My parents! He’d gone upstairs. In seconds, I was on my feet, running. I slammed into him and let out a scream.

Here’s how to vote for Don’t Fear the Reaper:

1. Register (it’ll only take a moment, I promise.)

2. Once you are registered, log in and go the Awards Hall. You can also find this at the bottom right of page under Jump To.

3. Click on the links for Best Young Adult and Best Horror.

4. Vote!
Read more of Don’t Fear the Reaper or check out my other books at these retailers:

Amazon    B&N    iTunes    Kobo    Books A Million    Audible


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