Introduction
I should have known better than to sign a deal with a blood-sucking blackmailer. But what choice did I have? Alessandro, one of the most powerful vampires in all the realms, holds my deepest, darkest secret in the palm of his hand.
Within fourteen days, I must start an academy for delinquent teenage vampires, or he’ll expose me. If my skeleton ever fell out of the closet, I would be ruined. My family would disown me, my friends would abandon me, and I would be left totally alone.
I’ve never taught vampires, or delinquents, or teenagers for that matter, but I will risk everything to establish a school for the undead. On the plus side, I have a PhD in Education and am a talented witch capable of all sorts of sorcery. Getting my brooms in a row, I’ve already scribbled a few lessons on the seven undeadly sins. I am determined that within fourteen days, I will have an institution of enlightenment for the most shadowy creatures on earth.
What could go wrong?
Onyx, a drop-dead-gorgeous night stalker with an extensive knowledge of blood sorcery, has offered his assistance, but you know what they say about deals that appear too good to be true. Should I accept a sidekick with fangs or go it alone?
Meanwhile, trouble is brewing in my small Pacific Northwest town called Mystic Keep. Someone is killing witches.While I expect many bumps in the night await me, I swear no bloody mess will deter me from my goal—to get the academy for naughty vampires functioning on time.
Will I succeed, or will I be exposed? Or worse, will I be murdered?
My name is Rebel Black, and this is my story.
Fangsters, the novel, is the first book in Fangsters, an urban fantasy with bite series, set in the Mystic Keep world. A fast-paced mystery with a slow burn romance, it features powerful witches, stubborn warlocks, and sexy vampires, and can easily be read as a standalone.
Chapter 1
Why would anyone summon me here, to this miserable, run‑down motel at the edge of town? My witch senses picked up nothing—no magic, no threat. It made no sense.
Midnight crept closer. The icy wind bit into the skin of my face. I should’ve been home, warm and safe, but instead I stood in a trash‑strewn parking lot that reeked of greasy food and cat pee.
I tightened my coat. Someone wanted me here. Were they hiding in the dark cloaked by magic? The longer I waited, the more certain I became that whoever brought me here wouldn’t be friendly.
The neon sign above the motel office red, Welcome – Rooms Available, but by the looks of it the inn had given up on welcoming anyone years ago. The paint had peeled away in long, curling strips, exposing boards warped and patched with random slabs of plywood. Even the moon hid behind dark clouds, leaving the building to brood in darkness. Why here? Cold fear slammed straight into my bones.
The invitation had come in an unsigned flame-text an hour ago. Come to room 101 at the Welcome Motel, at midnight.
Only a Magik with supernatural powers could contact me in this way. Why didn’t they sign it? Why didn’t they explain themselves? I shivered. What did this unknown person want from me?
I stood there alone, in the darkness, for a few minutes taking in the scene. A family of rats scuttling around the garbage bins at the side of the building. The wind picked up and the old cedar tree standing at the end of the parking lot creaked.
Who sent the flame-text? It wasn’t like me to get spooked, but this invitation creeped me out.
Should I call someone and let them know what I was up to? I bit my bottom lip. Most of my friends and family would be asleep. And I didn’t want them to think me superstitious. A true sorceress should be able to handle a visit to a decrepit, old motel.
What about Dakota? Should I call him? We were getting married soon, and he knew I wasn’t immune to fear. I drew in a long breath and slowly let it out. Dakota was miles away at a conference for lawyers. He messaged me he had turned off his phone for the night because he needed sleep. Tomorrow he would give a speech on environmental law.
I grumbled. I’m a university teacher. I like my world orderly. And this situation was far from orderly. I stood alone in the dark, and if I didn’t want to freeze to death, I needed to act. Keeping my senses on high-alert I approached room 101.
A glimmer of a candle flickered behind thin curtains. The stench of mold and urine-stained walls seared my heightened witch senses as I neared the door. Part of me wanted to go home, but another part of me wanted to see this through. Whatever this was. It was a bit like an unfinished horror story I told myself. I needed to know the ending.
When I was a couple feet from the door I heard movement inside. I took another step and leaned in.
A sultry female voice said, “You deserve this.” Slap.
What. The. Hex?
Stealing my resolve, I tapped on the door, but no one answered.
My gut clenched. Was someone being hurt inside? Was I to rescue them? Was that why I had been called here?
I closed my eyes and summoned my magic to be ready for anything. With a quick nod to the powers that be, I blew the door wide open with the toss of my hand.
A tall, red-headed woman with fire in her dark eyes, bright red lipstick, and enough leather to lead a biker gang faced me. “Get out,” she hissed.
I glanced towards the bed behind her in horror. Dakota, my fiancé, the love of my life, my very future, lay on rumpled sheets tied to the headboard and gagged. The bastard!
He whined like a sick dog.
The whip cracked in the air above me. “Get out,” the vixen screamed.
A bolt of blue‑white lightning slid from my palm ripping the whip from her hand and spinning it into mine. I stepped forward and sent a crack of enchanted energy across Dakota’s feet. “Take that.”
“You’re crazy,” screamed the woman as she ran to free Dakota’s hands.
I cracked the whip above her head. “You don’t know how crazy.”
As Dakota used one free hand to loosen the bindings on his other wrist, the woman pulled a gun from the drawer in the nightstand. With shaking hands, she aimed it at me. “He didn’t tell me you were a witch.” The pupils in her eyes hardened.
I cackled. I couldn’t help it. I could hear her heart beating wildly and I wanted to terrorize her. “Want to come a little closer, sweetie?”
“No,” commanded Dakota, who had managed to remove the silk tie around his mouth. “Stop this, Rebecca. You’re making a scene.”
I cracked the whip in the air above his head. “You want a scene. I’ll give you a scene.”
The gun went off. Pain shot through my arm as a bullet grazed my bicep. I froze. Before I could summon my magic, the dominatrix dove at me. We tumbled to the ground. She scratched. I punched. She screamed. I grunted. She cocked the pistol for a second shot. I bit her wrist. Her blood filled my mouth. The gun dropped on the ground.
“That’s no way for a lady to act, Rebecca,” said Dakota, pulling on his pants and hopping on one foot as he did so. “We can talk this through, Rebec—”
The wail of a police siren sliced through the cold night air.
The woman kneed me hard in the gut and jumped off me. “You’re not good enough for him,” she hissed. She grabbed the gun and pulled the trigger.
I caught the bullet in my hand and faced Dakota.
“We’re done,” I said.
I ran out of the door into the night. I thought my life was over, but I was wrong. It had only just begun. My name is Rebecca Black. Friends call me Rebel.
Final Note
Chapter 2 will drop next Friday. Thanks for reading.
See you between the lines.
with gratitude,
Jo-Ann
A great read!!
A fun read