The Utterly Uninteresting and Unadventurous Tales of Fred, The Vampire Accountant / @DrewHayesNovels / @REUTSpub

Welcome to the blog tour for The Utterly Uninteresting and Unadventurous Tales of Fred, the Vampire Accountant! Read on to learn more about this release.

About the BookSome people are born boring. Some live boring. Some even die boring. Fred managed to do all three, and when he woke up as a vampire, he did so as a boring one. Timid, socially awkward, and plagued by self-esteem issues, Fred has never been the adventurous sort.

One fateful night – different from the night he died, which was more inconvenient than fateful – Fred reconnects with an old friend at his high school reunion. This rekindled relationship sets off a chain of events thrusting him right into the chaos that is the parahuman world, a world with chipper zombies, truck driver wereponies, maniacal necromancers, ancient dragons, and now one undead accountant trying his best to “survive.” Because even after it’s over, life can still be a downright bloody mess.

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Excerpt

Para-Meeting:

I was on the verge of giving the whole trip up for a bad idea when the devil sat down next to me. She was wearing a black and red corset, with black leather pants and red boots. Two horns sprouted from the blonde hair that hung to her shoulders; red contacts obscured the brown eyes that I could still make out underneath. She was fit and sexy, not a whiff of plastic on her person, either. A vampire in the movies would have delivered the perfect opening line that conveyed mystery, power, and sex appeal.

Instead I said, “You’re supposed to be wearing a nametag.” She arched an eyebrow and stared me down for a few moments. I had begun contemplating faking a bathroom emergency to escape when she replied, “Well, I am the ultimate rebel.” I laughed a little in spite of myself. I liked rules, and they only worked if they applied to everyone, but I also liked a beautiful woman who would talk to me. Guess which one was taking precedence at that point?

“Seriously though,” I said, “how do we know who you are if you aren’t wearing a nametag?”

The devil leaned toward me, offering a more apt view down her corset in the process, and whispered conspiratorially, “And why do you want to know who I am, doctor?”

“Well . . . um . . . I suppose we might have known each other . . . back when we went to school here.”

“Did you know many women who looked like me?” she asked with a hint of a purr in her voice. All her body language indicated that she was flirting with me, but her heart rate was steady, and I didn’t smell any pheromones or hormones being released. If only I had these senses during my formative years, I could have saved myself a multitude of embarrassments when girls thought it was funny to flirt with the nerd.

I pulled my back straight and made a significant effort not to look down the appealing ravine of her corset, and then spoke. “I feel I knew far too many women like you in those days. Granted, none bore your particular physical features, but the streak of cruel humor was most notably the same. I don’t know why you are pretending to flirt with me, but I assure you that I am on to your little game. I would very much like it if you left me alone now.”

If I were still human, then my face would have been bright red from embarrassment. I expected her to be grumpy that I spoiled her fun, or fake anger at me for calling her out. The devil did neither. She threw her head back and laughed whole heartedly. I became increasingly uncomfortable as she devolved into guffaws and then to chuckles. Finally, when her humor was little more than a low murmur in her throat, she responded.

About the Author

Drew Hayes Author PhotoDrew Hayes is an aspiring author from Texas who has written several books and found the gumption to publish a few (so far). He graduated from Texas Tech with a B.A. in English, because evidently he’s not familiar with what the term “employable” means. Drew has been called one of the most profound, prolific, and talented authors of his generation, but a table full of drunks will say almost anything when offered a round of free shots. Drew feels kind of like a D-bag writing about himself in the third person like this. He does appreciate that you’re still reading, though.

Drew would like to sit down and have a beer with you. Or a cocktail. He’s not here to judge your preferences. Drew is terrible at being serious, and has no real idea what a snippet biography is meant to convey anyway. Drew thinks you are awesome just the way you are. That part, he meant. Drew is off to go high-five random people, because who doesn’t love a good high-five? No one, that’s who.

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