Morbid and Sultry Tales of Genevieve Clare is LIVE!
Genevieve and Ahren in this dark and sultry tale of love loss!
& Noble: http://bit.ly/1tDidmS
Date: October 30th
approached Bryce Oskin, with caution, and when I reached his side, he
demanded, “Who the fuck are you?”
and disarm. Charm and disarm.
Genevieve Clare, Mr. Oskin,” I said with a grin. “I believe you
hired me to come to your funeral? Mind if I join you?” I brought my
own bag of goodies and opened a white baker’s box from Brewster’s.
some kind of spooky chick?” he asked, his eyes squinting as he
I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was… sweet on me
already. “Kinda, yeah. If by spooky you mean I get paid to go to
funerals, give people a nudge, and check for a heartbeat. Oh, and I
live at Eden Hills. Then yeah, I’m spooky.” I grabbed a plastic
fork and took a bite of amazing cake. It was always amazing, but
today it seemed more amazing than usual.
I nodded toward the folder I’d set down on a little table to his
side. “I just need you to sign on the dotted line. And the bag
there is from Ruby. But I’m taking over the goody-bag duties, so
tell me what you like and I’ll get it for you.” I licked my lips
and did it seductively because I knew this was a man who appreciated
a woman. Also known as a dirty old man. “Want a bite?”
gonna tell that Nazi Nurse Ratchet on me?” He jerked his head
you gonna drop dead from half a slice of cake?” I countered.
I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship, Mr. Oskin. I
visit once a week, unless I have a funeral, usually on Tuesday or
Wednesday. I always bring cake for my clients. If there’s something
you don’t like, just tell me. But I usually bring a selection.”
do this every week?” he asked, disbelief in his voice.
do you mean?”
eat like that every week? When you see other clients?” His eyes
slid up and down the length of my body.
have a high metabolism.” I smiled. It really was a miracle I wasn’t
as big as a house. But my sweet tooth was limited to sharing with
clients. I had to give myself some sort of boundaries.
grabbed the plastic fork I’d handed him and stabbed the slice of
Meyer lemon cake with vanilla bean cream cheese frosting. His eyes
closed, and when they opened, he said, “God bless you.” After a
few more bites, he asked, “So, you’re gonna open up my box and
poke me before they burn me, right?”
sir, I’ll make sure you’re good and dead.”
chick.” His tone was gruff, but his lip tipped up in the corner.
saw it with pride. Disarmament, accomplished.
Oskin had ordered the Shake N Bake. I had permission from most of the
mortuaries and crematories to open the casket and check the body. I
mean, you could just tell when someone was dead. By the time I had my
turn with the deceased, they were most likely already embalmed. But
some of them chose not to be, or if they were, they hired me to come
to their place of death and make damn sure there was no chance in
hell they were coming back to life.
while back, there was a highly publicized case in Southern
California. A woman had been pronounced dead and taken to the
hospital morgue. But when they opened the fridge for her to be
transported to the funeral home, they saw obvious signs of a
struggle. She’d been put in there alive.
never been afraid of death, and, after my family died and the man I
loved almost had, I embraced death in my own strange way. I made it
my life’s work, I guess. While it took a lot to creep me out, that
story gave me the heebie-jeebies something fierce. It was all over
the news. Every staff member from the hospital to the morgue was
investigated then sued or fired or both. And, of course, old people
sitting in the common room of a rest home from the wee a.m. hours to
beddy-bye time, saw that story six times in one day, minimum. I ended
up receiving so many requests to make sure they weren’t breathing,
I added the Shake N Bake to my website.
name is Genevieve Clare, professional mourner, destined to spend my
days donning a
money. Sometimes I mixed it up and
warm body instead. Finding the right warm body though,
Tony, it seemed to take a lot to get me going. When Ahren walked into
a room, I wanted to smother him with my vagina.
gonna die, Cookie. Death is the devil you know. The better you live,
the more you piss him off, and he just hates that. Right now, you’re
lettin’ him get his way.”
pieces,” I whispered.
he asked against my hair.
when I think I can’t love you more, you give me another piece to
add to my heart.”
decided it’s worth the risk of losing you and having you for one
day, than never having you at all.”
If I could give this book 10 stars I would. I loved every word. I really hope this isn’t the last from J.B Hartnett. She gained a fan for life.
So fill up those shot glasses and have a toast with those that are no longer with us. And don’t forget to buy this book.
Julie is a Southern
California native, a fan of a really good story (preferably romance
with a happily ever after), really good pie (preferably pumpkin) and
copious amounts of coffee (preferably Folgers).
has always enjoyed writing and at one time thought she could be a
singer songwriter…the ‘writer’ part is the one that stuck.
is obsessed with pi…the equation(and the food). She’s allergic to
cats and cantaloupe and hates mushrooms…so if you ever want to give
her a gift, those are out for sure.She currently lives with her own
romance hero husband and two boys in Melbourne, Australia.