Today we have the wonderful and talented Eleni Konstantine with and excerpt of her book
SNOOP: SNOOP CASES #1
Daisy Luck is a SNOOP - Sanctioned Nationalized Officer Of the Paranormal. Her latest case involving a vampire and a gremlin has her private eye senses in a spin. Throw in yummy Detective Maroney and her life couldn't get more complicated - or could it?
My office door squeaked open. A dame in a tight-fitting red dress sashayed in, the slight lift of an eyebrow the only indication of
her surprise. No doubt she’d been expecting Uncle Bob. Cranky Uncle Bob, with his grizzly face and his cigarette-stained teeth. He was
tracking down a client who’d skipped town without paying.
The dame’s expression quickly changed to a smile.
I wasn’t fooled. I knew her type—a woman who could manipulate a man with one look. This sort of woman was both deadly and dangerous. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t my type.
“Good evening.” Her rich upper-class English accent reverberated around the room. It definitely sounded out of place in this office, which more often than not had swear words bouncing off the walls. And not just from the men.
I smiled and stood. “Daisy Luck,” I said, extending my hand. “P.I.”
The lady placed her black-gloved hand in mine and shook it lightly.
“Nancy Umbridge. Vampire.”
I knew this, of course. My talent for sensing paranormal creatures is small-scale compared to some, but I had known Umbridge’s nature when she walked through the door.
I indicated for her to take a seat. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Vampires prefer most people to think they only drink blood. The truth is, while they don’t need food or drink to survive, they still relish both.
Umbridge sat regally in the chair across from my desk, scanning the place with her eyes. She politely shook her head. I assumed that a dame like her thought the battered old office needed a cleaning.
Her stunning black hair, red lips, and curvy figure oozed femininity. She would have had a career on the silver screen next to Ginger Rogers and Greta Garbo if the camera could have captured her image. We were worlds apart. I might have curves, but a pants suit and shirt did little for my sex appeal.
“What can I do for you—” I looked at her hand and noted the ring she wore over her left glove. “Mrs. Umbridge.”
“It is a rather delicate matter and I hoped to discuss it with Bob. Is he here?”
I shook my head. “I’m afraid he’s away on business. I’m his niece.”
“And do you have much experience as a private investigator?”
“Many years,” I responded.
Again, her eyebrow curved up.
“Mrs. Umbridge, when other girls were playing with dolls, my Uncle Bob took me on assignments. No one suspected a man with a child
might be a P.I.”
“How about SNOOP work?”
“It’s always been our specialty.”
SNOOP stands for Sanctioned Nationalized Officer of the Paranormal. Basically, a big blown out title to let people know we could work on paranormal cases. The title was given by the Board of Supernatural, and only those with a paranormal ability can be certified. SNOOP cases were our bread and butter. I pointed to the certificate on the wall showing my credentials. It wasn’t the agency she was wary of. It was me.
It really bugged me when other women were put off by a female investigator. Maybe it was something that harked back to the cavemen.
“Very well,” she said.
The back of my neck tingled in warning. Whatever Mrs. Umbridge wanted to hire us for, my intuition didn’t like it.
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