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Damned Before Breakfast
Damned Before Breakfast
Damned Before Breakfast
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Damned Before Breakfast

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Rave and Mage may seem unlikely friends, one is responsible (most of the time), and the other is more of a free spirit. They both come in their own shade of stubborn and sassy. But, as many Wisconsin girls know, alcohol can make for unlikely friendships, bedfellows and shiny new fangs. What started out as an end of the semester celebration turns into a permanent vacation to the seedy paranormal underbelly in the Mid-West’s least assuming state, Wisconsin. 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 6, 2015
ISBN9781771551632
Damned Before Breakfast

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    Damned Before Breakfast - Jessica Gleason

    This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

    No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

    ––––––––

    Champagne Books 

    www.champagnebooks.com

    Copyright 2015 by Jessica Gleason

    ISBN 978-1-77155-163-2

    April 2015

    Cover Art by Trisha FitzGerald

    Produced in Canada

    ––––––––

    Champagne Book Group

    19-3 Avenue SE

    High River, AB T1V 1G3

    Canada 

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Champagnebooks.com (or a retailer of your choice) and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Other Books By Jessica Gleason

    Madison Murphy, Wisconsin Weirdo

    Dedication

    This book is dedicated to my (once removed) diseased gall bladder, my misshapen friend with walnut sized stones. Rest in peace, or hell, whichever comes first.

    PROLOGUE

    A NIGHT OUT

    Three months of painting, reading and napping in the sun. No papers to grade, no freshman co-eds asking stupid questions, just rest, relaxation and maybe a few alcoholic beverages. I shifted in the sunlight. The smell of musty books stung my nostrils. I couldn't take another year as an un-tenured assistant professor. The immature musings of the bleach-blonde sorority whores was affecting my I.Q.

    Gee, that sounds wonderful, Mage. The voice on the other end of the telephone sighed.

    I am going to make the most of this summer vacation. I ditched out of work before they could accost and strong-arm me into teaching summer courses for pennies and magic jumping beans. We are going to do fun, relaxing things all summer... reading, swimming, spa treatments and maybe a new tattoo or three. I closed my eyes and sighed at the thought of a real summer vacation.

    Well, Mage, as nice as that sounds, we don't all have frou-frou education jobs that give us insanely long vacations. The jealously was audible. Some of us have to go back to work on Monday.

    I ignored her protests. As if you aren't sitting on at least two months of stock-piled vacation days...

    But, we're in the middle of type-setting the new catalogue. I can't leave in the midst of an important project.

    Yes, I'm sure that writing copy for farm-equipment catalogues is at the top of your list of things to do. As if they couldn't use the same descriptions they used in the last damn catalogue. Technology hasn't exactly progressed since last summer...

    I guess you've got me there, Mage. Well played. The chuckle in her voice was a sheer sign of my triumph over her work ethic.

    "Escape from the monotony of your super exciting life. I know that being a copywriter for a major distributer of farm equipment is your dream job and everything, but you can't tell me that the idea of alcoholic Arnold Palmer's isn't enticing."

    God, you're a bitch sometimes. Not all of us landed cushy jobs in small-town academia.

    ...and, whose fault is that Rave? I didn't tell you to jump on the slave train and forego your higher education. Score one more for me. I suggest you inform your place of employment that you'd like to cash in those vacation days. Then, head over to my place because we are hitting the city tonight.

    "Yes, because Milwaukee is soooooooooo exciting."

    It's a start, Rave; it's a start. Molehills before mountains and all that junk. Get dressed up. We’re hitting Water Street hard.

    Great and I'll go ahead and empty out my bank account while we’re at it.

    You are such a whiner. Fine, the night's on me. You won't regret it.

    ONE

    HANGOVERS OR FANGOVERS?

    Meritville, Wisconsin, while a thriving college town, doesn't hold much entertainment or excitement for those of us over the age of twenty one. It's a stereotypical small Wisconsin town—nine bars, two liquor stores, five banks and a cobble-stone road lined with tiny novelty shops. Soaps and Stuff, Laura’s High Fashion Boutique, The Kite Factory, Brotherhood Books and more...

    Oh, and the university... but that doesn't count as the college kids and the townies don't mix well. The university is all-inclusive. There's no reason for those spoiled kids to take a step outside of the campus anyway. The campus comes equipped with seven eateries, three convenience stores, a movie theater and a hair salon—and people wonder why they gain twenty pounds in college—as if the twenty four hour pizza delivery wasn’t enough to verify the rumor.

    Rave and I really needed to break free from our boring cookie-cutter lives to let loose and have a little fun. Milwaukee was the closest actual entertainment, so visiting it first was a logical idea. Though, when I told Rave she wouldn't regret it—I didn't actually mean it—I also didn’t anticipate what really happened.

    We both knew she'd wake up with a blinding headache followed by a hangover chaser. Hell, I figured we both would. While we were well past our college party days, they weren't so far away that we had forgotten how to let loose and have a good time. We had been best friends since high school, stayed that way through college and into our respective careers—a long but fun fourteen years. (Do the math; we're both twenty eight years old.)

    I knew we'd both wind up smelling like a barroom floor, with matted hair, smeared eye make-up and killer hangovers. It would probably be followed by a grease-laden Denny’s breakfast and then Bloody Mary’s ala hair of the dog—I was only half right.

    ~ * ~

    Urgle... It took me a while, but I had managed to pry my crusted eyes open and was met with darkness. I think we drank too much last night. No response. Rave... You alive? You even here or am I talking to myself? Fuck, my brain hurts—I think we did more damage last night than those idiot co-eds do in a year. There was an inaudible gurgle from a few feet away.

    What the hell did we do last night? Rave responded, slowly with the tongue of a half-conscious cotton-mouthed lush.

    I don't remember, but I bet it was fun. The blinding headache was impeding my ability to sort things out.

    Why am I in my underwear? Rave managed.

    Hrmpfhhh...You got me. Probably the same reason I'm in my underwear. I'm betting it wasn't some sweet lesbo action.

    Yah, probably not, but there could have been some hard-core bestiality for all I know.

    I don't even want to think about that. You're gross. So, where the hell are we? I said, sitting up and rubbing my stiff neck. Cold concrete did wonders for the spine.

    From what I gather, we're laid out in the dark on a concrete floor.

    Oh, thank you for pointing that out. You are grand-master of all that is obvious. It's good to see the alcohol didn't wipe away your winning sense of humor. I padded around a bit searching for a wall with a light switch or something, to no avail. It was seriously dark and creep-tacular. Well, from what I can tell there's a door over here—locked—and a few walls. I bet it's a basement or something, this place is tiny.

    "Dammit Mage, why the hell are we half-naked and in a random basement? There could have at least been hunky men here to wake up with. I would not have remembered them, but at least I could have probably deduced that I had been laid. That would have been infinitely better than waking up in a ten by ten windowless cell half-naked with only you to keep me company. This is some creepy Saw shit. If a ventriloquist dummy on a tricycle rolls on in here, you're dead."

    Probably and you wouldn’t even have to strangle me, but I highly doubt a twisted serial killer kidnapped us right off of Water Street...because that is the obvious conclusion. Stop being so dramatic, Rave. We probably got too drunk, went to some stupid house party and wound up passed out in someone's basement.

    Then why the hell are we locked in a dark tiny room, you moron? Rave fumed at me.

    Who knows? Maybe it was some sort of frat party stunt. Lock the drunken girls in the basement... That rather sounded lame, even to me, but there was no way something freaky-weird happened to us. Our lives were destined to be boring and fruitless. So, let's get someone's attention. They can let us out, give us some clothes and send us on our merry way. Then we can head on over to the spa for a day of rest and relaxation.

    I should never have listened to you. You are always getting me in trouble. Should have put the kibosh on our friendship when you sent my panties to Professor Roth. Rave pounded on the door and yelled for someone to come and let us out.

    What? You said you thought he was sexy... I was merely trying to speed up your relationship. I smiled mischievously, though it was a waste since Rave couldn’t see me. So, I joined her and we pounded and yelled for about ten minutes, but no one came to let us out. They're probably still passed out. I'm sure it was a good night for them too, I said, if not for my own benefit, for Rave's. She was not good at staying calm in delicate situations.

    Yes, of course, we will just sit here, forgotten, in some random person's basement until we shrivel away to nothing and someone finds our corpses twenty years from now, she responded.

    You're being dramatic again. Someone is going to find us and let us out. You’re not going to rot away in here. Let's just wait until we hear them moving around. They’re probably sleeping like the dead right now.

    I’m hungry.

    Yes, well, you’re going to have to wait a while unless you feel like licking the floor.

    "Don’t tempt me; I am seriously hungry... like primal, just got off of Survivor hungry."

    Well cool it and I’ll treat you to some fried breakfast foods later, I offered.

    Fine, but I want double bacon!

    Agreed.

    We didn’t really have a way to keep track of the time that passed, though, it felt like forever. After what was probably a few hours, I decided to take a nap and stayed in my unconscious state until I heard Rave’s pounding and yelling. Geez, keep it down! I’m trying to sleep over here.

    Oh, I am soooo sorry to disturb you master, but I would like to get out of this jail cell sometime this millennia.

    Yah, fine. Did you hear them moving around out there? I groggily asked.

    No Mage, I just enjoy hitting things and getting bloody knuckles. It’s my new favorite hobby. Yes, I heard someone moving around.

    Someone’s crabby...

    I’ve been locked up in a room with a hangover all day, I have no memory of how I got here and I’m hungry...how the hell am I supposed to feel?

    Calm down crabby, we’re going to get out of here soon enough. I hear someone coming.

    Rave returned to the pounding and yelling. Let me out of here. Someone come and open this damn door; I am serious. You had better not be planning to kill me because I will be super pissed if you are.

    I chuckled. That’s it Rave, you show them how it’s done.

    We heard someone approach the door. Stop pounding. I can hear you. Step back and I’ll open up the door, said a mysterious male voice from the beyond or maybe just beyond the door.

    Okay, but I’m armed. So, don’t think you’re going to get away with murdering me, Rave threatened.

    The door opened to reveal a small stone-walled wine cellar and a slight dark-haired gentleman. I know you don’t have any weapons, nor do you have clothes, he said with a crooked half-smile. And I do not plan on killing you, someone already saw to that last night.

    TWO

    DAWN OF THE UNDEAD

    What are you talking about, you weirdo? I am standing here yelling at you. So, I am obviously not dead! Raven screamed at the stranger while waving her balled up fists in his face.

    I think that upon further reveal, you will change your mind about that statement, he responded.

    I just stood there behind Rave, mouth slightly ajar, starting at the twin gaping holes and trail of blood traipsing down her neck. My hand quickly rose to my neck only to find what I assumed was a similar wound on my person. ...Uh, Rave?

    Not now Mage, I’ve got this guy right where I want him.

    No, I don’t think you do.

    She spun around to face me. As soon as she saw my neck wound, her face contorted into a look of disbelief that probably mirrored my own. Hands raced toward her neck, only to find

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