Read Beneath The Skin (A College Obsession Romance) Online
Authors: Daryl Banner
They are available to read with Amazon’s Kindle Unlimited (KU).
The Beautiful Dead Trilogy:
“The Beautiful Dead (Book 1)”
http://www.amzn.com/B00EEPZN2W
She’s dead. In fact, the whole world’s dead. Every single person, apparently. Unburied and reimagined into a beautiful living-dead woman called Winter, she is doomed to spend the rest of eternity in a quaint, peaceful city with no hunger, no sickness and no bills to pay. Her Second Life is perfect in every way possible. So why is she so bent on destroying it all? After angering the mayor, befriending rebel headless teenagers and igniting romance with a dark and brooding neighbor, she finds herself wrestling madly with a First Life she cannot remember and this Second Life she cannot accept. Not to mention the maniacal army of rotting corpses who want her dead. Again. But none of that matters in comparison to an even bigger problem. There’s a guest in her house. A rude, good-looking man on the run ... a man with a heartbeat.
“Dead Of Winter (The Beautiful Dead, Book 2)”
http://www.amzn.com/B00P1O0KXW
No one said being an Undead is easy. Winter’s Second Life became a lot more complicated when the Living moved into her hometown of Trenton. Undead neighbors fight with their Breathing ones. Food is sparse. And, worst of all, the season is taking a change for the colder. A desperate plea for help to a neighboring city turns deadly and soon Winter finds herself facing an old friend from her past whose plot to annihilate all life on the planet may have everything to do with her. And what about the man-with-the-heartbeat in her house? Is there even room for love in such a ruined, unforgiving world? New friends are made. Others are lost forever. In the dead of winter, no one is safe.
“Almost Alive (The Beautiful Dead, Book 3)”
http://www.amzn.com/B00VPJFTNS
Twelve years have passed since the devastation. The world is changed. What once was a planet struggling to survive is now a planet bursting to life. The humans are thriving. Gardens are growing. Trees are reaching up to the sky and the Undeadly clutch on the planet is slowly letting go. But what does that mean for Winter and her friends? In the wake of spring, the last of the desperate Undead gather, fighting to maintain their place in a world that no longer wants them. Mother Nature slowly but certainly works to purge the planet of the Dead, just when Winter thought she had finally embraced this Second Life. Her new friends are back and old nemeses return for the final chapter in Winter's Undead journey.
The Sunless Reach Trilogy:
“The Whispers (The Beautiful Dead, Book 4)”
http://www.amzn.com/B01CF003YU
Note: This book starts a NEW Beautiful Dead trilogy and can be read independently from the first three, though you will have the most enriching experience by reading them in order.
Jennifer needs to know the truth about the Beautiful Dead. Do they really exist, or is it all a lie? She faces punishment from the university if she pursues her forbidden Undeadly studies - but she could also change the world. One reckless decision (that may or may not be totally illegal) sends Jennifer and her friends embarking on an adventure of a
death
time to find the truth at last. She did not expect, however, to discover the fate of all humanity resting in her little Living hands.
“The Winters (The Beautiful Dead, Book 5)”
(Coming soon.)
“The Wakings (The Beautiful Dead, Book 6)”
(Not yet released.)
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Turn the page to read the BONUS EPILOGUE for
Read My Lips
!
This bonus epilogue chronologically takes place after the events of
Beneath The Skin (Book 2)
NOTE: It is recommended to read
Beneath The Skin
before reading this bonus epilogue.
To skip to
Beneath The Skin
, click here:
Beneath The Skin
.
CLAYTON
- One Year Later -
The Summer After Graduation
I never planned to have someone in my life.
The way I pictured it, I was going to be the house on the street that everyone avoided. I was going to be the dark tech wizard whose hands were always blackened and cut up from metalwork. I was going to grow up and live in a shell of my own misery, bitterness, and distaste for humankind.
And then Dessie shattered that dream and replaced it with a new one.
Everyone’s here. All the couples and all the singles. Dmitri even brought this girl he’s been getting fresh with in one of his creative writing classes, a blonde with a beautiful face who always seems to squint at everyone she smiles at. The pair of them are snuggled up at the end of the table, which is the longest damn table we could find here at the
Throng & Song
that could seat everyone. Brant is near him with his girl too, and though he’s always had one girl or another by his side for all the years I’ve known him, I know this one’s going to be around for a while. It’s something about the way he looks into her eyes and how she seems to have none of it, not easily impressed, keeping him on his toes and smirking knowingly when he tries one of his signature Brant moves.
She’s a keeper
, that take-no-nonsense attitude tells me.
Sam has been oddly quiet. And I don’t mean that in some sort of humorous ironic sort of way, considering I’m deaf. I can tell when someone seems off or doesn’t seem to be engaging in the conversation at the table. She’s been picking at her nails and eyeing her boyfriend a lot, who sits there like a lump on a log as he chats across the table with Eric about something I can’t quite make out—their lips are moving too fast to read.
As I kick back and watch my friends, I start to muse about what they’re discussing. I’m guessing Dmitri is telling Eric and his girl all about the story he’s working on—maybe it’s about a world where everyone’s bisexual and no one has to second-guess whether or not a dude or a chick is into them; everyone just goes for it—but no matter what his story entails, the girl at his side seems more interested in carefully selecting each nacho she pulls from her basket, daintily plucking them with her index finger and thumb, then eating them in tiny bites. It takes her six nibbles to eat one damn nacho—I counted.
Dmitri finally meets my eyes after finishing a point he was apparently trying to make—which Eric seems to have lost interest in, judging from the roll of his eyes and the crossing of his arms. Dmitri smiles and lifts his hands, signing at me:
How are you doing? Have you eaten?
Knowing that he, ironically, wouldn’t be able to hear
me
if I spoke, considering the usual noise and loudness of this place, I lift my hands and sign back at him:
Not hungry. Have you seen Dessie?
An odd look crosses his face before he swallows hard, itches his nose, then replies:
No. I’m sure she’ll be here soon. When do you guys leave? Brant wanted to throw you guys a going-away party.
His peculiar behavior doesn’t go unnoticed, but I ignore it for now and reply:
End of the summer.
He’s talking about when Dessie and I leave for New York. The truth is, I’m terrified to go. Sure, I’ve been there a number of times with Dessie—twice at Christmas to see her family, once last summer, once in the spring—but every time I go, I feel like I’m visiting a new city. It never seems the same, as if the city itself is some giant temperamental organism that thrives and writhes restlessly, never settling. I sometimes look at my lighting designs that way: always struggling to find the right angle, to spill the right way on the stage, to color and accent the actors in just the right balance of vibrant and muted lights. Maybe New York City is the perfect place for us and I’m just slow to see it.
All this anxiety in my stomach, though … I know it all goes away when I’m with Dessie. No matter the obstacle, no matter the fears that grab at your feet the farther you try to climb in life, when she’s at my side, I feel fucking boundless. She’s my strength and she knows it. I wish I could give her half as much as what she’s given me. I can’t even begin to imagine how much differently my life would be right now without her in it.
With these thoughts floating through my head, I catch myself looking up, studying the lighting instruments that hang above and are used to light the modest stage upon which the band—and eventually tonight, Dessie—perform on. I observe them thoughtfully, trying to predict which ones are used for what, and how I might arrange them differently had I been involved at all in the design choices this restaurant slash piano bar employs.
Just then, I notice a lighting instrument that seems slightly out of place. It seems to have a strange gobo installed—if I’m looking at it correctly. Gobos are basically stencils placed inside or in front of an instrument to control the shape of the light that shines out of it. I squint at that gobo, trying to make out its shape. Maybe it’s something the band uses. Maybe it’s their logo or something.
A vibration ringing through the table brings my attention back to my friends. I look up at a waving hand. It’s Brant, his eyes flashing with excitement. He nudges Dmitri, then starts to move his hands.
Holy shit. Brant is signing at me.
He says:
I want to have sex with the table really bad. I like singing vaginas. Can I suck your cock please?
I quirk an eyebrow. The fuck …?
Dmitri starts laughing his ass off, which inspires a look of utter bafflement on Brant’s face. Too late, Brant realizes he’s been pranked, as I watch his mouth form the words, “
What did I just sign? Dmitri?? What the fuck did I just sign to Clayton?
”
I join in the laughter, unable to help myself. Brant meets my eyes, shaking his head with his mouth wrinkled in frustration, then he grabs Dmitri and puts him in a headlock, wrestling him to the ground and inspiring an eye roll both from Dmitri’s girl as well as Brant’s.
I notice light flood in from the front door, but sink when I see it isn’t Dessie. My eyes comb the crowd, anxious for her to walk through that door. She’s been working on a new song. I can’t fucking wait to hear it.
Yes,
hear
it. Every time she sings, I hear her music. I hear it in the way her eyes clench shut on the high notes and her nose wrinkles, as if the beauty of her music is so great, she literally feels pain. I hear it in the way she caresses the microphone stand, squirming and embracing it like a lover. I hear it in the way her lips move, working every lyric and squeezing every drop of passion from those notes that vibrate out from her core.