Monster due out in two days (cover reveal and longer extract)

My short horror story 'Monster' is going to be published in two days! Look out for it in amazon stores, and other retailers.

For those not in the know, Monster is a short horror story about a newly turned vampire fighting for humanity to see her as anything other than a monster.

Here's the finished cover:

 As promised here is a longer extract:

“What about my rights?” The long chains pinning the handcuffs to the floor clatter against the metal table. I don’t believe this. I don’t believe any of this.

The man flinches at the sound, like I’m some kind of dangerous creature. I’m not. I’m just Honey Mason, eighteen year old checkout girl at the local supermarket. I don’t smoke, get drunk, or do any kind of drugs. I do my taxes. I eat right. I don’t deserve to go to jail.

“Humans have rights”, the man finally takes off his sunglasses, revealing pupils constricted to pinpricks. He pretends he’s not afraid of me, but I can smell it on him. He stinks of fear. “You aren’t human.”

I want to argue, but I’m terrified he’s right. Two months ago I was human, before I met my new ‘friends’. Now I’m not so sure. The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done, they exist in the world of monster not man. The world tastes different - I’m not even sure it had a taste before all this. I feel different; stronger, faster, weaker, hungrier.

“I haven’t killed anyone”, I say, even though I am not sure that is true.

"You will", he says, and there’s no trace of a lie on his face. He believes it’s the truth. His conviction makes my faith waver. "It's only a matter of time."

I want to scream I'm not like them. I will never kill anyone, but I pause wondering if what he was saying was the truth. After they turned me they said I would be like them. I would feel the hunger as strong as they did. Nothing would stand between me and the blood, not even the life that held it.

The month old blood feels stale in my veins. From across the table I can hear his blood, can see the artery in his neck flutter with every beat of his heart. My eyes linger too long on his jugular and the rate of fluttering increases.

I think on blood the way I used to ponder which takeout to get after a long day of work. His blood would taste wonderful, so refreshing after so long without. It would slip down my throat, warm and comforting, like the warm glass of milk and honey I used to chase away nightmares as a child. The metallic tang would be further deepened by the salty taste of fear. His blood holds everything mine has lost, energy, health, sustenance. Drinking it would bring life back to the sluggish movements caused by my long fast.

Then as every time before, I remember that this is a human, and I am a human despite what they say. The desire to bite vanishes into repulsion. But maybe they are right, and one day the desire will be too strong. If I kill, I will surely die as well, and all that will be left is the monster. I can’t risk it.

My shoulders slump in resignation. “I’ll go”, I say in a small voice.

His face is impassive despite the fear that leeches off of him. “You don’t have a choice.”

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