Tushy Reaper E-Book

George Saoulidis

• Herausgeber: Mythography Studios
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Dead Gorgeous
When a professional dronehunter dies from an electrocution accident, he meets his Reaper face to face. Turns out she’s quite cute, inexperienced and has a magnificent tushy. To both their surprise he doesn’t really die that day, so they go on a coffee date as if nothing happened. Will Theseus manage to figure out how to stay alive, when his reaper is quite inexperienced, when this new world of the dead and living is opened up to him and when the god of death wants his reaper back?

This is book 1 of the Tushy Reaper series.
Warning: The protagonist likes big butts and cannot lie.

Leseprobe

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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CHAPTER ONE

Tushy was a lousy Reaper, to be honest. She knew that, all the Reapers knew that, heck, probably even the dead knew it also. Perhaps that's why she never got to nab one.

Sigh.

It had been eleven months since she'd gotten her scythe, and she still hadn't reapt a single soul.

Competition, you see.

She was so happy that day... Receiving her scythe, she felt like the only way to go was up. They also gave her a stone, but she still didn't know what that was. She carried it with her anyway, she'd sewn pockets inside her ragged dress so she could fit it on her person.

She got the call, it was in a stinky hotel. They all got the call. She grabbed her scythe and darted off towards it as soon as she heard the buzzer. Okay, it wasn't a buzzer, it was like a trumpet that only Reapers could hear.

Tushy looked around the city block, she found the hotel's sign. It said 'Apollon Hotel' in big, flashing letters that cut through the night. Tushy didn't actually need the light, she could see just fine in the dark. She made a beeline for the hotel's entrance, pushed the glass door, spotted the stairs and ran right to-

"Excuse me, miss? Can I help you?"

The woman who spoke was young, smiling with a sort of practised diligence, a brunette. She had her hair back in a tight ponytail and wore a discreet uniform.

Tushy felt really self-aware at that moment. You know, a woman in rags, barefoot, carrying an enormous scythe and storming in the building. "Uhhh..." she said eloquently.

"Can I help you with something?" the receptionist said again, her face turning into a smile once more.

Tushy pointed at the stairs. "There's a... Um... Yeah. Look, I'm here to..."

The receptionist nodded. "I see. Are you meeting a client," the receptionist said in a conspiratorial tone.

"What? No. I mean, yes. In a way... Yeah." She blinked again, leaned forward, holding her scythe up. "What do you mean exactly?"

The receptionist covered the side of her mouth and whispered. "It's alright, we get the ones that want weird sex toys every night."

Tushy frowned.

The receptionist nodded up with her eyebrows, above Tushy's head.

Tushy looked up, there was the scythe's blade alright. "Oh... You think that my... That it's a... You know what," she puffed her chest and stood tall. "Yes. That's exactly what it is."

The receptionist pressed her lips together and nodded, looking sideways at her. "That's alright. A girl's gotta make a living."

Tushy chuckled, blurting out a laugh. "Hn-hah! Living. Yeah."

"Okay, go on up. I guess you know the room number. And in case something happens, just call me. I got you, girl."

Tushy pointed at her, "Best receptionist ever?"

The brunette looked embarrassed. "Aww, thanks."

Tushy walked away and as soon as she was out of sight, she dashed upwards, climbing the stairs two by two. She didn't know where the soon-to-be-very-dead guy was, and the hotel had a lot of ground to cover. And if she didn't hurry, she'd lose the soul to the other Reapers.

Where could he be, where? She ran up and down the corridors, listening behind closed doors. There was a guy snoring in there, sooo... Nope. Not dead. The other door had a couple arguing, but it didn't seem like it would escalate. The last door had two guys doing the nasty, she could tell by the whole 'Give it to me/I'm giving it to you' intercourse that she heard loud and clear.

And one was silent.

Not this floor then.

She ran up to the second story and it hit her. She could feel it, smell it, like springtime flowers coming in on a gentle breeze.

The dead guy's scent.

She honed in, practically dragged by her nose, almost gliding on the cheap rug. She found the door, it was slightly ajar, and she pushed her way in.

"No, dammit!" she cursed when she saw the occupants.

There she was, a Reaper with her scythe, bony legs open wide, standing on the bed, ready to swing and reap the dead guy's soul.

The Reaper turned to her, grinned with her toothy snarl, and said. "Tushy. Late, yet again. Tsk, tsk, tsk."

And then she swung, reaping the soul.

Tushy shoulders slumped, she leaned on her scythe. "Dammit! I was so close this time," she said and punched the wall.

Ow!

That hurt.

"Tushy, you pathetic excuse for a Reaper."

"Miasma, you greedy bitch."

Miasma put her bony hand on her waist. The bitch was doing that on purpose, showing off her thin waist. "I mean, really now? It has been what, a year since you got your starting scythe?"

Tushy glanced at the woman's scythe. It was so much better than hers, it had frickin' skulls and it glowed brilliant red, and there was a vial on the top in which she could see the harvested soul flitting around, glowing in light blue twinkles.

It was such and awesome scythe, but Tushy would never admit it to her.

"It's eleven months. And it's fine, I don't need flashy tools, unlike some people."

"Right," Miasma snorted. She stepped off the bed and came closer to Tushy. "Always a noob, I see. Tushy." She enunciated the last word, giving it the feel of an insult. Which it was.

Tushy was called that because the other Reapers bullied her for her wide tushy.

Reapers, you see, were emaciated, almost skeletal. That's how a proper Reaper should look like, and all the other Reapers looked exactly like starving fashion models.

Whereas Tushy, while still having the same sunken face and bony arms and legs, had a big, round butt.