MARK OF THE NECROMANCER, the first book of the
Sabrina Grayson Novels
YA Urban Fantasy / © 2015 Tamsin L. Silver
Sabrina Grayson is dead and it's the best thing that has ever happened to her.
As a child, Sabrina saw ghosts, but with age and parental influence, she forgot all about them. That is, until fate stepped in to bring her back where she belonged: with the dead.
Now she's a Necromancer; the only one who can travel the Death Highway and walk the Earth. As a new member of the supernatural world, Sabrina discovers the truth about her past and must learn who she really is. To do this, she will have to team up with Detective Alex Price, the one man she can't stand. Only together can they figure out who murdered her and why they are killing her friends off one by one.
Determined to save them and the city she loves from the evil plot they uncover, Sabrina will put her soul on the line...even if it means going to Hell and fighting Lucifer himself.
As the blood drained from my body, I wondered the oddest thing: did I leave my flat iron on? Don't judge. It's a legitimate concern. If I burned down my apartment, how would my grieving friends divvy up all my clothes? How would my parents have anything to remember me by? If I survived this, whatever this was, would I have a home to go back to?
Soon I didn't care about those things, though. As the man’s teeth sunk deeper into my neck, all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. My thoughts tunneled to a single focus—keeping my heart pumping.
On that thought, a war cry ripped through the night air and he let go. I began to fall, slowly I went down, like the crooning voice of Sinatra, until I landed on my back with a splat in a puddle. Staring up at the sky as the world cried down on my face, I noted movement above me that appeared so fast it was a blur. All I knew was that someone leapt upon my attacker and as they fought, I attempted to cry out to no avail.
Things were going dark, but all I could do was lie there with my mouth open, fighting to stay alive. Feeling pathetic in what were likely my last moments, I was surprised to taste blood as it landed on my tongue. Before I knew it, my mouth was full of the hot, coppery substance, and I swallowed it.
Attempting to focus on the one figure leaning over me, I noted the sound of wet footsteps slapping the pavement as the other hurried away, a mere memory in a second. Unsure which still stood with me, my attacker or savior, I whimpered as he picked me up in his arms. Gasping for air, my neck wound burning like the sun itself, I tried to ask him who he was, but it never escaped my lips.
Then, simply put...I died.
I was now a New York City statistic: Dead in Central Park. All because Bryce broke up with me and I'd been dramatic enough to go for a walk in the rain.
All. Bryce's. Fault.
What an asshole.