Deborah Melanie is the wife of a retired, semi professional footballer. She is a mother, cat lover,designer, reviewer and published author. Her latest venture is The London Cat, a community where authors can be reviewed, interviewed and browse through beautiful book covers designed by Deborah. Readers have the opportunity to check out new reads and meet fresh and exciting authors.
Deborah writes stories describing life in England, with a backdrop of rolling hills and beautiful landscapes.She loves to write about small market towns and close knit communities . Her stories are contemporary ; often combining her interests in the paranormal, comedy and food.
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Waitress Vivian Shawcross loves a costume party. When Halloween comes along, she can’t wait for the spooky fun to start. However, a mix up over her costume and a road diversion, are just two of the mini disasters she encounters en route to her ghostly night out. Stranded in a remote English village, isn’t her idea of fun, but when a gorgeous vampire is thrown into the equation, Vivian discovers that her fun night out has only just begun.
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“Would you like a scythe? I’ve got a beast of a one here.” She watched him hold up the gleaming article, its silver blade, a fitting embodiment of cut and thrust. “It’s the best I can offer at this stage.”
She pursed her lips together in what she hoped was a display of annoyance.
He sighed. “A bloody head and the scythe? I’ve done a great trade in bloody heads this week.” She watched him reach under the counter, before holding aloft a bearded man, his mouth held open in a gaping ‘O’ shape. Proudly he displayed it to her, the blood dripping from the neck area, as it swung to and fro. “Personalise him. Give him a name. Let the accessory work for you. Picture it, scythe in one hand, head in the other. Don’t tell me it’s not a look the men folk wouldn’t clamour for.”
She felt her face flush red with frustration.
“Right then, scythe, head and I’ll upgrade you to the black velvet, hooded gown, with inside iPod pocket. Now I can’t say fairer than that.”
“Fine.” Vivien tapped her foot, her impatience obvious. “It will have to do. You need to know something though, Alex. I’m not happy. I’m your best customer. In fact, sometimes I think I’m your only customer. There’s never anyone in here, apart from me.”
“That’s because I’m a discerning shopkeeper. I’ll have you know, I’m rather choosy when it comes to my clientele.”
“There’s a recession on. You can’t afford to be choosy. You know I have great faith in you, Alex and I’m here without fail at all public holidays and celebrations, yet I can’t see how dressing as Death will win me over more men than the Sexy Black Cat costume. I had my nails painted in gothic black and even bought some PVC boots from the kinky shop around the corner. Even the boots won’t save this outfit. ”
Shrugging his shoulders, Alex escorted Vivian around to the dressing area of his costume shop. “What can I tell you, Darling? It was an honest mistake. Rest assured, you’re going to rock this outfit.”
“And how can you be so sure?” Vivian felt defeated, even before she tried the costume on. Her heart had been set on being dressed as a Sexy Black Cat and hopefully landing herself a gorgeous hunk of a date for the evening.
“I know because you’re the sort of girl who can turn a disaster into a triumph. Any man worth his salt is going to love you in this outfit. There’s much more to you than PVC. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Vivian didn’t feel convinced. Shrugging the cloak on over her waitress uniform, she gazed in disappointment at her reflection in the mirror. “I look like flipping Harry Potter. All I need is a wand and a flying car and I’ll be good to go.”
“Nonsense. Your hair is much longer than Harry’s. Maybe it’s the glasses.” Alex pushed the scythe into her left hand and grinned. “Slip into an attractive pair of contacts and you’ll be fine.”
“I sense you’re trying to get rid of me.”
“That’s correct. I am. I have my own party to go to tonight. Tell you what,” he said pushing her out of the door. “If you don’t bag a man tonight, there won’t be a charge for the hire. Now have fun.” With that, Vivian Shawcross found herself standing on the pavement at five PM with no
other choice than to go to a Halloween party in Leeds, dressed as Death.