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Urban Fantasy

The Laughing Corpse (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, Book 2) by Laurell K. Hamilton

By Laurell K. Hamilton

Harold Gaynor deals Anita Blake one million funds to elevate a 300-year-old zombie. figuring out it ability a human sacrifice may be invaluable, Anita turns him down. but if lifeless our bodies begin turning up, she realizes that somebody else has raised Harold's zombie--and that the zombie is a killer. Anita pits her strength opposed to the zombie and the voodoo priestess who controls it.

In The giggling Corpse, Anita will examine that there are a few secrets and techniques higher left buried-and a few humans dead...

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Extra info for The Laughing Corpse (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, Book 2)

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Golden oblongs of sunshine lay heavy on a black and white tiled floor. The floor and kitchen were old, but the appliances were new. One of those deluxe refrigerators with an ice maker and water dispenser took up a hunk of the back wall. All the appliances were done in a pale yellow: Harvest Gold, Autumn Bronze. Sitting at the kitchen table was a woman in her early sixties. Her thin brown face was seamed with a lot of smile lines. Pure white hair was done in a bun at the nape of her neck. She sat very straight in her chair, thin-boned hands folded on the tabletop.

Sometimes it’s goat blood, but more often chicken. I had compromised on the outfit, caught between showing respect and not melting in the heat. It would have been easy if I hadn’t planned 32 LAURELL K. HAMILTON to carry a gun with me. Call me paranoid, but I don’t leave home without it. The acid washed jeans, jogging socks, and Nikes were easy. An Uncle Mike’s inter-pants holster complete with a Firestar 9mm completed the outfit. The Firestar was my backup piece to the Browning Hi-Power. The Browning was far too bulky to put down an inter-pants holster, but the Firestar fit nicely.

A lot of hate in old Tony. It never occurred to him to pat me down for weapons. Tsk-tsk. A second man came to the screen door. He was in his late forties, maybe. He was wearing a white undershirt with a plaid shirt unbuttoned over it. The sleeves were folded back as far as they’d go. Sweat stood out on his forehead. I was betting there was a gun at the small of his back. His black hair had a pure white streak just over the forehead. ” His voice was thick and held an accent. ” The older man nodded.

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