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    Beautiful Abomination
    Beautiful Abomination
    Beautiful Abomination
    Ebook95 pages1 hour

    Beautiful Abomination

    By Frances Duncan

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Her life is falling apart. It's Valentine's Day when Josie realises she's in love with someone else. As the city, broken by disaster, is rebuilt around her, she discovers a devastating secret about her past.

    It's the week prior to the 2011 Christchurch Earthquake. A mentally damaged vampire stalks the streets of the city. It has a connection to Josie — and to Gary, the husband she doesn't love.

    Shortlisted for Best Novella in the 2018 Sir Julius Vogel awards, Beautiful Abomination is a speculative tragedy set against the backdrop of life, love, and death in a city that has known loss after loss. Frances Duncan will take you on a bewitching tale where love and death are the strangest companions of all.
     


    Also by Frances Duncan - Alison's The Sensible One:

    "I would rate this a 4.5 star read!" — Kate
    "Great dialogue ... Try the sample: you won't regret." — Richard
    "Wonderful read!!!" — Allie


    Frances Duncan is an avid reader and sometime scribbler. When not bullying others into reading Jane Austen or Harry Potter, she goes for long walks in native bush. Her presence at writing groups is characterised by her persistence that the author kill whichever character they are writing about.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherFrances duncan
    Release dateMar 6, 2017
    ISBN9781386781134
    Beautiful Abomination
    Author

    Frances Duncan

    Frances Duncan lives in Wellington where she runs the Jane Austen Society of New Zealand. Jane Austen is so much a part of her life that you'll find a little bit of Austen in each of her stories. In primary school the teachers used to take her books off her and tell her to go play. It seemed a natural progression to go from reading too much to writing.

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      Book preview

      Beautiful Abomination - Frances Duncan

      For Gram

      1

      C ome on baby, it’ll be fun. He spoke directly into her ear, so she could hear him over the noise of the music. His hand moved from her waist to her butt to pull her into him.

      With a show of reluctance, she gave into his eager smile and let him lead her down the corridor, her hand in his. When he glanced back a thrill ran through her but she made sure her gaze was on the floor, sticky beneath her shoes, so he wouldn’t see her excitement.

      Desire rolled off him to mingle with the fumes of the cheap beer he’d drunk. He wanted her, but men always did. She didn’t pretend it was anything special, just enjoyed the ride while it lasted.

      He pushed the door of the disabled toilet open and ushered her through.

      VIP all the way baby, he said as she passed, his hand on the small of her back.

      She rolled her eyes. At least it was better than a stall; more room, more privacy.

      The door swung shut and he was on her. Pushing her against the wall, it felt cool against her back, solid. His mouth slid against hers, his body pressed close, his hands tangled in her clothing; seeking skin. Her hands curled in fists at her side, waiting. His breath became ragged and the sound of blood pumping seemed to drown out everything else.

      He didn’t notice she was unresponsive, they never did. His body moved away from hers as he fumbled with the fastenings of his trousers trying to release his erection.

      This had gone far enough.

      She stilled his hands with hers. He smiled, assuming she wanted to take over. His mouth descended towards hers but she shifted her hands to hold his wrists, one hand came up to grasp his chin. His eyes widened in surprise. She tilted his head to one side, gently but with an iron grip, and brought him close. He tried to pull away but couldn’t. She rose on the balls of her feet.

      Come on baby, she crooned in his ear.

      His breathing kicked up a pace as did his blood pressure. He finally saw her for what she was and understood the danger he was in.

      The stupid men seduced by her appearance couldn’t see the face she wore underneath, at least not until it was too late. These were moments of clarity when she could smell her prey. The scent of his fear was intoxicating, the closest thing she could imagine to his earlier sexual arousal; she savoured it. If they weren’t in a public place she’d consider drawing it out, extending the experience.

      Her mouth moved down his neck to the pulse beating there, hammering against the skin.

      It’ll be fun, she murmured against his neck, her lips brushing his heat.

      Finally, her teeth grazed his flesh. He shuddered then stiffened. The moment just before was her favourite. They knew what was happening and they either surrendered or fought—it didn’t matter which.

      She inhaled his fear then sunk her teeth into his neck right above the pulse which fought like a trapped animal. She’d show it freedom.

      Blood. Better than sex. Better than breathing. She drew it into her mouth and it slid down her throat like a warm embrace. She moaned.

      He started to sag, she moved her grip to hold him up. He struggled weakly and she squeezed till he stopped. Her heels settled back on the floor. For a man who’d wanted to be close to her before he certainly didn’t want to be now. If her mouth wasn’t busy she’d make a sly comment. A little back and forth was fine ordinarily, verbal or physical, but she wanted to concentrate on her meal rather than play with it tonight. The pickings had been slim recently with the tremors narrowing her hunting ground and the pool of prey.

      She wouldn’t hurt him. She knew better than that. She’d improved from when she first started. He’d wake up with a headache like he would have done anyway. There might be some embarrassment at passing out supposedly-drunk on a bathroom floor but it wouldn't be in a pool of his own vomit, she wouldn't leave a mess. She was considerate like that.

      His chest continued to move against hers as he drew shallow breaths. The pounding of his heart quietened. She’d have to stop soon. Only once had she lost control and gone too far. Never again, it was too risky.

      Someone was walking down the hall towards them, she felt the vibration of their steps before she heard them over the racket of the bar. Nothing to worry about, no one could bother them here. Still, over his shoulder she trained her eyes on the door. She had survived this far by remaining alert. The last thing she wanted was someone bursting in and ruining everything.

      The footsteps paused. The moment lengthened, she could smell the woman on the other side of the door.

      As the handle began to rotate she realised, in her hunger, she’d forgotten to lock it. The handle engaged and the door began to move, she extracted herself from the man’s neck to call, Occupied! and the door slammed shut. Letting out a sigh of relief she turned back to her victim. His face was pallid, she’d eat no more tonight.

      She released his body and let it slide to the floor.

      2

      14 February 2011

      Josie rushed to work with only a coffee to fill her up— bloody Monday morning —and had just sat down at her desk and slapped her romance novel next to the keyboard when David came to lean against the wall of her cubicle.

      "Morning Jo.

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