Samantha Moon Phantasm Read online

  SAMANTHA MOON PHANTASM

  Eight Novels

  Vampire Sun

  Moon Dragon

  Moon Shadow

  Vampire Fire

  Midnight Moon

  Moon Angel

  Vampire Sire

  Moon Master

  by

  J.R. RAIN

  Other Books by J.R. Rain

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  Winter Wind

  Silent Echo

  The Body Departed

  The Grail Quest

  Elvis Has Not Left the Building

  The Lost Ark

  The Spear (with Randy Keys)

  The Journey (with Piers Anthony)

  The Worm Returns (with Piers Anthony)

  Lavabull (with Piers Anthony)

  Jack and the Giants (with Piers Anthony)

  Dolfin Tayle (with Piers Anthony)

  Dragon Assassin (with Piers Anthony)

  Lost Eden (with Elizabeth Basque)

  Judas Silver (with Elizabeth Basque)

  The Vampire Club (with Scott Nicholson)

  Cursed (with Scott Nicholson)

  The Black Fang Betrayal (with multiple authors)

  VAMPIRE FOR HIRE

  Moon Dance

  Vampire Moon

  American Vampire

  Moon Child

  Christmas Moon (novella)

  Vampire Dawn

  Vampire Games

  Moon Island

  Moon River

  Vampire Sun

  Moon Dragon

  Moon Shadow

  Vampire Fire

  Midnight Moon

  Moon Angel

  Vampire Sire

  Moon Master

  Dead Moon

  SAMANTHA MOON CASE FILES

  Moon Bayou (with Rod Kierkegaard)

  Blood Moon (with Matthew S. Cox)

  SAMANTHA MOON ORIGINS

  with Matthew S. Cox

  New Moon Rising

  Moon Mourning

  VAMPIRE FOR HIRE SHORT STORIES

  Teeth

  Vampire Nights

  Vampire Blues

  Vampire Dreams

  Halloween Moon

  Vampire Gold

  Blue Moon

  Dark Side of the Moon

  Vampire Requiem

  Moon Love

  VAMPIRE FOR HIRE EXTRAS

  Vampire Alley (poem)

  Moon Extras (Bonus Scenes)

  Moon Dance (Deluxe Edition)

  JIM KNIGHTHORSE SERIES

  Dark Horse

  The Mummy Case

  Hail Mary

  Clean Slate

  THE WITCHES SERIES

  The Witch and the Gentleman

  The Witch and the Englishman

  The Witch and the Huntsman (with Rod Kierkegaard)

  The Witch and the Wolfman (with Rod Kierkegaard)

  THE PSI SERIES

  with A.K. Alexander

  Hear No Evil

  See No Evil

  Speak No Evil

  Touch No Evil

  NICK CAINE SERIES

  with Aiden James

  Temple of the Jaguar

  Treasure of the Deep

  Pyramid of the Gods

  THE WATSON FILES

  with Chanel Smith

  Sherlock Holmes and the Missing Shakespeare

  Sherlock Holmes and the Lost Da Vinci

  Sherlock Holmes and the Werewolf of West End

  WINTER SOLTSICE SERIES

  with Matthew S. Cox

  Convergence

  Containment

  Catalyst

  DEAD DETECTIVE SERIES

  with Rod Kierkegaard

  The Dead Detective

  Deadbeat Dad

  TEAM QUANTUM

  with Kris Carey

  The Accidental Superheroine

  My Big Fat Accidental Superheroine Wedding

  MADDY WIMSEY SERIES

  with Matthew S. Cox

  The Devil’s Eye

  The Drifting Gloom

  ALEXIS SILVER SERIES

  with Matthew S. Cox

  Silver Light

  Deep Silver

  Silver Quarrel

  ICE WOLF SERIES

  with H.P. Mallory

  Ice Wolf

  IMMORTAL OPERATIVE

  With Matthew S. Cox

  Broken Ice

  THE SPINOZA TRILOGY

  The Vampire With the Dragon Tattoo

  The Vampire Who Played Dead

  The Vampire in the Iron Mask

  THE ALADDIN TRILOGY

  with Piers Anthony

  Aladdin Relighted

  Aladdin Sins Bad

  Aladdin and the Flying Dutchman

  THE WALKING PLAGUE TRILOGY

  with Elizabeth Basque

  Zombie Patrol

  Zombie Rage

  Zombie Mountain

  THE SPIDER TRILOGY

  with Scott Nicholson and H.T. Night

  Bad Blood

  Spider Web

  Spider Bite

  SHORT STORIES

  The Vampire on the Train

  Easy Rider

  Vampire Road

  Skeleton Jim

  Vampire Rain

  The Santa Call

  The Bleeder

  SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS

  Dark Rain: Stories

  Blood Rain: Stories

  Black Rain: Stories

  Red Rain: Over Forty Stories

  Moonlight & Monsters: Ten Vampires Tales

  BOXED SETS

  Samantha Moon: Books 1, 2, 3, and 4

  Samantha Moon Rising: Books 5, 6, and 7

  Samantha Moon Forever: Books 8, 9, and 10

  Samantha Moon Fatalis: Books 11, 12, 13, and 14

  Samantha Moon: First Eight Novels

  Vampire for Fire: First Eight Short Stories

  Jim Knighthorse: First Three Novels

  The PSI Thrillers: First Three Novels

  The Ghost Files: First Three Novels

  Nick Caine: First Three Novels

  The Spinoza Trilogy

  The Aladdin Trilogy

  The Walking Plague Trilogy

  The Spider Trilogy

  Rain Dance: Four Novels

  The Map: Four Adventure Novels

  Murder Latte: Four Mystery Novels

  For Young Readers

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  The Emerald River

  The Angel and the Gift

  Forever Silent

  Spirit Mountain (with Alexandra Swan)

  YOUR CHOICE BOOKS

  Deep Sea Danger

  The Legend of Eagle Eye Mountain

  Playoff Pressure

  THE ROBOT TWINS

  The Mystery of the Walking Statue

  The Secret of Stonehead Island (with Randy Keys)

  KIDQUEST ADVENTURES

  The Secret of the Sphinx

  THE DISTANT WORLD TRILOGY

  Dare to Enter a Distant World

  TEAM LEGEND

  with Randy Keys

  The Enchantress

  Samantha Moon Phantasm

  Published by J.R. Rain

  Copyright © 2019 by J.R. Rain

  All rights reserved

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Vampire Sun

  Moon Dragon

  Moon Shadow

  Vampire Fire

  Midnight Moon

  Moon Angel

  Vampire Sire

  Moon Master

  About the Author

  VAMPIRE SUN

 
by

  J.R. RAIN

  Vampire for Hire #9

  Vampire Sun

  Published by Rain Press

  Copyright © 2014 by J.R. Rain

  All rights reserved.

  Dedication

  To Sandra again...and again.

  Vampire Sun

  “We watch you from the shadows, sometimes from within your very homes. We watch you live your mundane, dreary lives...and we wonder why you don’t crave more, hunger for more. Live more. But never fear, we shall do it for you. Oh, yes, we will.”

  —Diary of the Undead

  Chapter One

  I was watching Judge Judy...and wishing I was her.

  I didn’t wish I was very many people—in fact, very few—but she was one of them. No, I didn’t want to be on TV (that was, if I could even show up on TV, which I didn’t think I could without copious amounts of makeup), nor did I want to deal with the steady stream of derelicts who filled her courtroom.

  I wanted to be confident like her. Fearless like her. Smart like her. Hell, I wanted to talk like her, too.

  I checked the time on my cell phone. It would probably have been easier to check the time on my watch, had I owned a watch. The last one I’d owned had gotten destroyed on a case. Don’t ask. Now, I had my eye out for a shock-resistant, werewolf-resistant and demon-resistant watch. Maybe Timex made one.

  My client was late, which I hated. But that gave me more time with Judge Judy, whom I loved. It also gave me more time to finish sewing up Anthony’s boxer shorts. These were the third pair of shorts I had mended today. I’d seen enough skid marks to last a lifetime. Hell, this last pair looked like an aerial shot of a drag strip starting gate.

  But new boxer shorts cost money, and sewing the old ones was mostly free. And so, like the good mother I was, I powered through Anthony’s homage to Jackson Pollack, and sewed the gaping tear in the crotch area. I sewed quickly, deftly, never even poking my finger. The vampire in me heightened all my physical senses, even during the day, but more so at night. Now something as mundane as sewing was almost fun. I still got a kick out of what I could do. I was learning to appreciate who I was, or what I was.

  I didn’t have much choice, of course.

  I either appreciated my current condition or I went mad. I hadn’t entirely ruled out the latter. I was only ninety-eight percent sure that I wasn’t in a padded cell somewhere, wearing a straitjacket, rocking absently and drooling—looking, on second thought, a lot like Anthony when he played some of his video games.

  As I finished sewing the shorts, I heard a car door slam in my driveway. Synchronicity at its best.

  I quickly snipped off the thread with my weirdly sharp fingernails—nails that could never, ever be filed down damn them—and hurriedly tossed the shorts in Anthony’s room just as the doorbell rang. More good timing, as Judge Judy had just pronounced her latest verdict, a verdict I couldn’t have agreed with more.

  I smiled, turned off the TV and headed for the door.

  I’d like to meet Judge Judy someday.

  Chapter Two

  My client’s name was Henry Gleason.

  He didn’t look like a Henry Gleason. To me, a Henry Gleason should be a big, chubby guy with a cherubic face who gesticulated a lot, and made “to the moon” comments.

  This Henry didn’t gesticulate. He sat dourly in front of me. His aura was dour, too. Yes, I can see auras. I’m a freak like that. His aura suggested that someone had run over his cat.

  “How can I help you, Mr. Gleason?”

  I sensed, right off the bat, that there was something drastically wrong. Not even sort of wrong, but chaotically wrong. His aura was literally spitting fire, snapping around him like solar flares, or so many dragons breathing fire. I kept seeing the image of a small, pleasant-looking woman. These days, I got psychic hits with the best of them. I could also catch fleeting thoughts...words and images. But only those who were tuned into me could catch my own thoughts. This man, this stranger who was about to become anything but a stranger, was not privy to my thoughts. He also wasn’t privy to what I was. Or, rather, what I really was.

  Judging by his mental condition—or lack thereof, as he appeared to have hit some sort of rock bottom—I doubted he would care what I was. Mr. Gleason needed help, and he would have taken it from the devil himself. Little did Henry Gleason know how close he really was to that.

  “I need help...” he began, and that was about as far as he got for the next few minutes. He broke down completely, and his aura snapped and flared and shrank in on him. That Henry was a total mess, I had no doubt. Ever the good hostess, I pushed a box of Kleenex his way, although he didn’t see it at first.

  I waited as he struggled to get hold of himself. I get this sometimes: clients who come into my office and lose it. Generally, it’s because a loved one is cheating on them. I don’t always take cheating spouse cases. The truth is, I wouldn’t take any of them if I didn’t have to. However, I had something called a mortgage to deal with. And a car note and bills and two kids.

  And food...oh God the food. Who knew twelve-year-old girls could eat so much? Anthony I was prepared for. But not Tammy.

  Anyway, I mostly took the jobs that came my way. Mostly. Some cases I turned down. Some prospective clients, however, I never heard from again. It sometimes turned out that they just needed a shoulder to cry on. So the sympathy seekers who came to my home office and cried and got it out of their systems, well, I never saw them again.

  You win some, you lose some.

  But Henry Gleason wasn’t airing his marriage’s dirty laundry. He wasn’t walking me through, step by step, his wife’s sordid affairs or the intricacies of her deception. No, he was weeping for one of two reasons: he was truly hurting, or he was putting on a show.

  I would know soon enough which it was. And I was growing more certain it had to do with his wife.

  No, I didn’t know all. I wasn’t God. In fact, I was about as far from God as one could get. But these days I could tell if someone was lying to me. It wasn’t very hard for me to learn their secrets. What exactly was going on here, I didn’t know. But one thing was becoming obvious: Henry Gleason wasn’t putting on a show. His pain was real.

  So I waited. As I waited, I sent him a mental nudge to reach for the box of tissues which, after pausing briefly and cocking his head slightly, he did. He hadn’t known I had given him a mental nudge. It was probably better that he didn’t.

  He blew his nose and gathered himself and said, “I’m a total and complete mess. I’m sorry.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  He tried to smile, failed miserably, and gave up. I noted his shaking hands and his darting eyes that never seemed to settle on anything longer than a few seconds, if that.

  I decided to kick things off.

  “What happened to your wife, Henry?” I asked.

  “I-I don’t know. How did you know?”

  “Never mind that,” I said, and gave him another mental nudge to drop it. I asked, “Did you hurt her?”

  He looked at me sharply. “No. Never.”

  His aura briefly flared green. A partial lie. Now I used my demon-given gifts to dip into his thoughts, and slip just inside his aura. Yes, I was cheating a little. Then again, the sun was also stolen from me, along with Oreos and cheesecakes, fettuccine alfredo and mango margaritas. Or mangoritas, which just so happened to be Allison’s favorite drink these days. So if the demon inside me—the thing that fueled this supernatural body of mine—could actually give me something back, could actually add value to my life rather than steal from it, then I would take it gladly. Lord knows enough had been taken from me.

  “Cry me a river, Mom,” as Anthony would tell me these days. Kids, they grew up so fast.

  Anyway, the ability to read thoughts was a decent trade-off for having to give up dinner at The Cheesecake Factory—not to mention the ability to quickly discern truth from lies was invaluable to my profession. I no longer had to guess if someone was
jerking my chain or not.

  Now, as I psychically slipped inside his personal space, without him knowing it of course, I dipped into his thoughts, which turned out not to be an entirely good idea. The guy was borderline losing it. No, correction, he had lost it. Weeks ago. He’d lost it when his wife had seemingly disappeared at a Starbucks just outside of Orange County, which I had pieced together from his own chaotic memories.

  No, not quite chaotic. His mind, I quickly realized, was continuously looping the crime scene. Over and over, even for the few minutes I was inside his head, he relived his last moments with her.

  Sit back, I commanded, relax.

  Henry Gleason looked at me, blinked, and then sat back in my client chair. His thoughts calmed a little and I was able to piece together what I saw. It wasn’t a pretty picture.

  “Tell me what happened, Henry,” I said, and as he spoke, I relived the scene in his thoughts.

  ***

  Henry is waiting impatiently, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel...

  His wife has gone inside the Starbucks to grab them some iced mochas. Henry doesn’t even like iced mochas. His wife doesn’t either. What the fuck is an iced mocha, anyway? And why had she insisted they stop here, dammit? Lucy is acting weird today, he thinks. So weird.

  He waits in the heat. His window is down. Hot wind blows through the open window. He checks the time on his cell phone.

  I hear him say, “C’mon, babe, where are you?”

  More drumming. More hot wind.

  He turns around, scans through the back window of a truck toward the busy Starbucks. Nothing. No wife. No damn mochas.

  More drumming.

  Finally, he gets out and pads across the shimmering asphalt. I can feel the heat. I can also feel the panic rising in him. I know from his thoughts that he has waited about fifteen minutes for her. He thinks she’s in the bathroom. Maybe she’s sick. If that bitch is in there talking to someone—especially some guy—he was going to go off on her. Off. Maybe even slap her around a little. Maybe.