Bizarre Life of Sydney Sedrick

Bizarre Life of Sydney Sedrick
Sydney Sedrick [1]
Mandi Casey
Soul Mate Publishing (2011)

After a rogue werewolf attack triggers her latent powers as the Selected, Sydney Sedrick is reluctantly dragged into a war of vampires and werewolves, both battling for total species domination. Each try to use her as their pawn and are willing to use any force necessary to gain control of her special gifts. For her protection, Sydney is armed with only her grandmother’s journal and Blake, the sexy werewolf who insists they are meant to be together.

In order to succeed, Sydney must embrace her destiny and join the battle to protect both sides from genocide. Caught between two very different worlds, belonging to neither, Sydney is forced to risk it all, or lose everything and everyone she holds dear.

About the Author

Mandi Casey is a paranormal romance/ urban fantasy author. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and the Wisconsin Chapter. She is also a member of Savvy Authors and Rockin' Romance Writers crit group. When she's not writing, editing, and plotting her next literary adventures, she's busy playing frisbee golf, x-box 360, and fishing.

Table of Contents
Title Page
 

BIZARRE LIFE OF

SYDNEY SEDRICK

 

MANDI CASEY

 

SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

New York

Copyright
 

Bizarre Life of Sydney Sedrick

Copyright©2011

MANDI CASEY

 

Cover Design by Rae Monet, Inc.

 

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the priority written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

 

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

 

Published in the United States of America by

Soul Mate Publishing

P.O. Box 24

Macedon, New York, 14502

 

ISBN-13: 978-1-61935-021-2

ISBN-10: 1-61935-021-1

 

www.SoulMatePublishing.com

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

 
Dedication
 

I’d like to dedicate this work to some of the strong, successful, and supportive women in my life. Mom, for all of your love and life’s wisdom, Grams, for the inspiration of going after my dreams and knowing that anything is possible, Michele, for your never ending encouragement, and Carrie, for being my P.I.C. in all things, and helping me keep it real.

Acknowledgements
 

Without the hard work, great ideas, and support of the Rockin’ Romance Writers, you know who you are, this book wouldn’t be what it is. So, thank you ladies. I’d also like to thank Deborah Gilbert and Soul Mate Publishing for believing in my story. Last, but not least, I’d like to thank Nancy for our daily decompression sessions. They are priceless.

 

I’d also like to thank my loving husband for his understanding and support while I go after my dreams.

 
Chapter 1
 

Freezing wind whipped around me as I closed the door of Morning Sun for the night. A longing to be wrapped in the warmth of the heated front seat of my Jetta sped up my step. A thick layer of snow covered the sidewalk, making it difficult to navigate.

It had been my turn to close the store.

Aunt Judith had a treasured event to attend. Some flower and garden show. She seriously needed to enrich the barren wasteland that was her social life. My social life wasn’t any better, but we weren’t talking about me.

Rushing toward my Jetta, parked on the deserted street, I struggled to control my shivering from the subzero temperature. My teeth chattered no matter how hard I tried to stop them. Through my gloves, my fingers felt like ice cubes.

I heard something rustling nearby.

I halted, waiting and listening to see if the noise continued. Besides the occasional set of car tires crunching over snow a few streets away, the night was silent. Snowflakes whirled densely in the air, melting on my skin as I picked up the pace to run to the car. Holding my wool coat tightly against my thin frame, my body wouldn’t relax, despite the quiet of the night. Shrugging my shoulders to lift the scarf up closer to my ears was a wasted effort against the frigid winter air.

That’s when I heard the rustling noise again, like something was being dragged over snow.

I stopped walking, to listen.

The sound came from just ahead. Unfortunately, there were no streetlights on this side of the road. The noise changed from something being dragged to something resembling a baby’s soft whimpering.

My chest tightened. Fear gripped me, and my heart pounded faster, echoing in my ears. I inhaled a deep breath and took a few steps forward. I slowly peeked around the corner of the building before I lost my nerve.

Halfway down the alley, a very large man with long, shaggy hair bent over something on the ground. Trying to be as quiet as possible was difficult, but I must have succeeded. The man didn’t seem to notice my approach.

The outline of his back muscles showed through his thin, dark-blue, short-sleeved shirt. A T-shirt? It was, like, twenty freaking degrees outside, and this guy was in a T-shirt? Oddly, he didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold at all. He wasn’t shivering or huddled into a ball like I would have been without a coat.

The man remained hunched over something the size of a small child. I didn’t know what to do. Should I scream for help? No one would hear me. If I interrupted the man, would he run away, or would he attack me? My mind was in chaos. I couldn’t figure out what to do.

He focused on the small object like a dog with a bone. His mangy hair, torn jeans, and the guttural sounds emanating from his chest made him appear homeless. He didn’t look like he wanted to be disturbed. I took a step forward, and my boot crunched loudly on a small pile of snow. That got his attention. He turned his head, and I saw his long, light-brown hair covering most of his face. Dirt and grime smeared his unshaven jaw. Then his eyes bore into mine.

My heart stopped.

The man’s eyes were feral, like an animal’s. They had bronze colored rims around the irises. The black of his pupils shined with an inhuman iridescence. His eyes burned with anger and hatred.

I froze, paralyzed by fear, unable to move a muscle. The supposed fight or flight response eluded me.

I turned to run, my boot slipping on a patch of ice, only to be pounced upon by the oversized man with catlike eyes. He rammed into my torso like a football player tackling a receiver with the ball and knocked me over. Lying on top of me, he pinned me to the snow-covered ground and snarled, baring his teeth. The serrated razors lining his mouth were overly long, similar to that of a shark.

My breathing quickened, and my chest tightened in fear. The crushing weight of his body made it hard for my lungs to expand.

Thoughts raced in my mind. Oh my god, was he going to kill me? Rape me?

The animal-like man grabbed my arms with both of his hands. His fingernails were like talons digging into my skin. When the tips pierced my flesh, flashes of hot pain made their way up and down my arms. I pulled my right arm back against his hand, and cried out as one of those talon-like nails cut a deep gash across my wrist.

“Help me!” I screamed to no one. The street was empty. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes. I was going to die here in this alley. He tightened his grip on my arm like a vise, forcing my blood to well up under his palm. His freaky, feral eyes stared at my wrist with utter fascination. He took a deep breath in, his lips parted, and his nostrils flared. Another dart of fear stabbed through me. The smell of my blood must have stimulated his taste buds. My breath came in pants now, clouding the air with tiny white puffs. He didn’t even have the common courtesy to make eye contact before he went for my throat.

He grabbed both of my hands and pinned me to the ground. I squirmed, and the gravel from the alley dug into my back and shoulders. He used his free hand to cover my mouth. The stones from the cold ground pressed against my skull. I struggled against his hold, but it didn’t matter. His strength was inhuman, and his ability to keep me restrained appeared effortless. Leaning over my body, he placed his mouth above my neck. He slid his long, slimy tongue along my skin, then bit down. His teeth tore the flesh on my neck. Lightning hot pain shot through my neck as he tore at my skin with his teeth. He groaned with appreciation at the taste of my flesh. I could feel a thick warm liquid trailing down my neck, filling the air with a coppery odor. All I could think was that he’d gnawed a hole in my neck, and I was going to die. My stomach cramped and turned. I was going to puke.

“Stop, stop this, you’re hurting me!” I moaned against the hand covering my mouth. I could feel the acrid bile rising up my throat. I was going to get sick against his hand. The pain in my neck was subsiding. Instead of a sharp ripping pain, it became a heavy pressure as he slurped at my blood. The alley was less clear now. A fog was rolling in. A boxy sound echoed in my ears. I was going into shock.

I shuddered in horror.

My body refused to give up. My vision cleared with a blink, and full sensation returned.

The pain was unbearable when he used his tongue, lapping at the bleeding wound he’d created with his teeth. When he pulled his head back and looked into my eyes, long streams of stringy saliva tinged with the red from my blood hung from his mouth. The pain caused my head to whirl with the threat of passing out. His breath smelled like he’d chewed on a decaying body. The bile in my throat rose again when I felt the heat of it on my neck.

Barely aware of my surrounding, I heard a door open. The building we were next to was made up of a group of storefront businesses all connected to each other in the same plaza. The last storefront door opened, and footsteps crunched on the snow-covered sidewalk. My attacker jerked and snarled at the sound.

Someone was coming out of that store.

Struggling with all my strength against the hand binding my arms to the snow, then trying to scream underneath the man’s iron grip over my mouth, didn’t work. Whoever it was must have startled my attacker, causing him to leap off me. The animal man looked at me one last time, and I stared back through foggy eyes, my vision fading. A low growl erupted from his throat, then he ran down the opposite end of the alley until he was no longer visible.

Stunned, I could do nothing but lie there in the cold snow and focus on breathing for a minute.

Was this what dying felt like?

My body was still in shock from the attack. I lifted my head to see how the rest of me fared. The wound on my neck felt like hot pokers were stuck into the muscles.

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