Reader's Edyn: Blitz: Dead To Me (Grave Talker #1) by Annie Anderson + GIVEAWAY

**Dead to Me by Annie Anderson**

Good Morning, Everyone! So thrilled to see you all today! I have featured this author several times on the blog, but today we get to find out more about a brand new series. Yay! I am excited! So let’s find out more together! Please allow me to welcome back to the blog Annie Anderson and her latest release, DEAD TO ME … Plus a GIVEAWAY!

**ANNIE ANDERSON **

**BIO**

Annie Anderson is a military wife and United States Air Force veteran. Originally from Dallas, Texas, she is a southern girl at heart, but has lived all over the US and abroad. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she'll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two daughters, an old man of a dog, and a young pup that makes life... interesting.

To find out more about Ms. Anderson please visit:

**DEAD TO ME**

Publication date: September 29^th, 2020

Series: Grave Talker #1

Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

**BLURB**

There are only three rules in Darby Adler’s life.

One: Don’t talk to the dead in front of the living.
Two: Stay off the Arcane Bureau of Investigation’s radar.
Three: Don’t forget rules one and two.

With a murderer desperate for Darby’s attention and an ABI agent in town, things are about to get mighty interesting in Haunted Peak, TN.

**EXCERPT**

My life would be a lot easier if the dead in this town would just cooperate. Maybe it was the living. They never seemed to cooperate, either.

I hefted one eyelid by sheer force of will and spied the time on my alarm clock. That alarm clock was just for show. No one—not even me—used them much anymore. Lately, it was there so I didn’t have to look at the time on my phone. Said alarm clock was blinking 12:00 at me.

The power had gone out sometime since I’d fallen into bed. Figures. It didn’t matter that I lived in a nice neighborhood. Mother Nature was a testy woman on the best of days, but in the spring in this part of the country? She was downright spiteful.

The knock—well, more like pounding—on my front door rattled through my house again, which was what had woken me up from a very deep, much-needed sleep in the first damn place. I knew that insistent cop-knock. J was pounding on my door like the badge-wielding tool he was. Granted, I, too, had a badge, but I wasn’t the jerk accosting his door at oh-butt-thirty in the morning.

Groaning, I peeled myself from my oh-so-soft mattress and stomped to my door, yanking it open before J could splinter the wood.

“What?” Yeah, it came out more like a bark, but it wasn’t even dawn, and I was in no mood.

Instead of saying anything at all, J waved a to-go cup of coffee in my face as a peace offering. I fell on the caffeine-laden cup like a junkie, sucking down the brew like my life—or more accurately, J’s life—depended on it.

Only after the cup was half-drained did I let him pass the threshold into my living room. Shuffling past me, he plopped onto my overstuffed sofa like he owned it. He didn’t, but Jeremiah Cooper, AKA, J, was my best friend—hell, my only friend—and he’d spent many a morning, evening, and afternoon on that couch.

J wasn’t the only person sitting there, but he paid exactly zero attention to the slightly see-through dead man perched right next to him, lounging on the cushions like the Queen of Sheba. J—and everyone else in my life—couldn’t see him.

No one could.

No one but me.

It was not a good feeling to have a homicide less than a block from my house. The last thing I needed in my general vicinity was more ghosts.

And only J would think we didn’t need to drive the half-mile up the steep incline. Haunted Peak was at the base of a mountain, and J and I lived in a newer development in one of the foothills. As fit as I was, I still wasn’t hiking up that hill if I didn’t have to.

“You want to be sweaty and slow, be my guest. I’m driving.”

I needed to get there before whatever idiot the FBI sent tramped all over my crime scene or scared off my source. And by source, I meant the deceased. It was always tough when they were new. Their deaths were so fresh, they were still reeling from the transition. Hell, most of them didn’t even know they were dead.

I didn’t blame them for being out of sorts. If I’d been killed in a super-weird way, I’d probably be a little messed up, too. But explaining that no one could see them but me, and they were dead? Ugh. Not my favorite way to spend a morning.

Plus, if J and I were being called in, the case was not just weird. It was weird.

Those were the only cases we got nowadays. Add in Hildy’s description of being carved up and well… I already knew I was about to have a rough one.

Climbing into my Jeep, I waited the three-point-five seconds for J to get his ass in gear before cranking the engine. He slid into the seat beside me just as I threw it in reverse, barely managing to close his door before I peeled out of the driveway. The trip took less than a minute, but that was still far too long for me. Had J told me there was a Fed on my scene before I wasted time getting dressed, we’d have been there already—bad breath, pajamas, and all.

“What do you know? What am I walking into?”

J ran a hand down his face as he let loose the mother of all sighs. “It’s bad, D. It makes those fake Satanists we busted last year look like fluffy bunnies and rainbows.”

Those “Satanists” we’d busted last October weren’t Satanists at all. They were a bunch of fledgling witches with an ax to grind against their coven leader. I’d seen many a witch and warlock in my day that weren’t even the least bit homicidal. Those chicks were straight-up lethal and aching to get into the dark stuff. It’d taken a boatload of legwork, a promise to the new coven leader that I wouldn’t be dragging the whole coven into it, and a binding spell the size of Texas to get those girls cornered.

Not that J knew that.

He’d lost his mind when he’d learned my secret. I couldn’t blow up his narrow world view any more than I already had. What was I gonna say? I know you don’t like to think about the ghosts that are crawling all over the planet, but you might want to start worrying about the shit that’s actually alive. AKA, the shit that can kill you.

Yeah, I didn’t see that going too well. It would make his fool brain explode, and then I’d be out a best friend.

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