Lynn's Love of Books: Blog Tour: Code Black by Tina Moss

Blog Tour:

Code Black

Tina Moss

Oct 1st – Oct 14th

Gossip

mag reporter Sera Benenati knows a thing or two about unearthing secrets...and

burying them. As an unregistered supernatural, her freedom depends on keeping

her fire-wielding abilities contained. Yet, the threat of a little flame isn’t enough to snuff out her

journalistic pursuits. She’s

determined to claw her way to the top and land a spot with a real paper.

When she tracks a lead on a string of gruesome paranormal murders to the small

town of Buckhorn, Arizona, she’s certain

she’s landed the perfect scoop. But,

as the crime scene reveals victims with bite marks, torn flesh, and battered

bodies, Sera may have smoked out more than she can burn. As the investigation

grows hot and Sera winds up in the crosshairs, she’ll need the help of a sexy

shifter, special agent Talon Rede, to unmask the murderers before she becomes

the next victim.

One

BUCKHORN

RESIDENCE, PHOENIX, ARIZONA

Sera

stared at her fingernails, picking at the chipped red paint and wondering how

in the hell to interview a murder victim’s sister.

“How do I get myself into these

things?” She flicked the cherry apple

flecks at the dashboard and leaned her skull back against the headrest.

Remembering exactly how she ended up in this suburban neighborhood,

procrastinating in the morning sun shifted her thoughts to seven days earlier.

And a conversation she couldn’t forget.

“Don’t you

think people deserve the truth?” That line

had gotten her into this mess in the first place. One week ago, she’d won a huge bet with her

favorite poker buddy, who also happened to be the county medical examiner. When

he couldn’t cover

his bet, he gave her a prize of equal value—the

unlisted office number of Special Agent Talon Rede, team leader for the

Paranormal Crimes Division in the district. She’d been

after an inside connection to the PCD for months. He knew the weakness and

played his hand well. Information proved the ultimate jackpot, far more than

any dollar amount. The journalistic philosophy accounted for her not big enough

to be called a studio apartment and the meager double digits in her savings.

The phone number almost made up for her severe lack of closet space.

Her

fingers couldn’t whip

over the touchscreen fast enough.

“Agent Rede, you can’t possibly believe releasing

these ridiculous tidbits of information is fair to the public.” The accusation had flown a few

seconds past the initial greeting of, “Hello. I’m Sera Benenati. A reporter. Don’t hang up.” The collar of her button down

blouse irritated her neck. When he’d stayed

on the line, she dug in. “The more

the people know about these crimes, the safer they’ll be.”

His

silence dragged on, and then, he growled. “Well now,

this should be interesting.”

She’d been instantly intrigued. His

strong velvety voice did something to her insides. Donning her most

professional tone like armor, she said, “What’s interesting is the way the PCD

dodges every reporter’s

questions about the Rodriguez case.”

“Sweetheart, you can ask me

anything you like.” His

pause spoke louder than his words. “But, if I

think for a second my answer will put more people, the public, the same

citizens this office protects in danger, you’re damn

right the only phrase you’ll hear

is ‘no comment’.”

“Wow.” She hadn’t meant to let it slip, but his

honesty and boldness impressed the hell

out of

her. “You always this straight forward?”

“What you see is what you get.”

“But, I only hear you, Agent Rede.” She could almost envision his

grin over the line, picturing it in her mind and imagining the man behind the

voice.

“For now, Ms. Benenati. But, I

doubt you give up easily.” Another

heavy pause. “Am I

wrong?”

“Not on your life.”

They’d traded barbs for almost an hour

after, each striking and dodging in turn. She never did get more from him on

the case, but it ended up her poker pal had the scoop. Another game, three days

later, and she had the details she needed. Only now, she couldn’t get the special agent out of

her head.

“Stupid. You never even met the

guy!” Yet, it didn’t seem to matter. Her cheeks

heated whenever she thought about their one phone call—a conversation she replayed over

in her head far too many times. It’d been

forever since a man had captured her attention so much. Hell, had any man ever

fascinated her like Agent Rede? But, when the conversation had ended, he didn’t ask for her number and she hadn’t called him back. Better to keep

the fantasy than be disappointed with reality.

Sera

sighed and flipped down the visor to check her makeup. The foundation she’d spent way too much on flaked in

the heat and the simple lipstick she’d chosen

to look “professional” clashed with her hair. Worse,

the nail polish she’d been

picking at as she killed time in the car made her fingers look like bloody

stumps. “Perfect.”

Resigned,

she flicked off the dried red polish and hopped down from her Jeep 4x4. With

the victim’s file

clutched to her chest, she hurried to the house. Her heels clicked over the

endless cement driveway. She’d read

the medical examiner’s report—the latest aforementioned poker

prize—six times. Details of the crime

remained hidden away from the press, but with this, she’d been able to uncover the crucial

facts. She flipped through her notes for the seventh time as she walked.

Victims,

Juan and Margaret Rodriquez, aged 32 and 29 respectively and registered as

humans, were found dead in their home. Bite marks and bruises on the victims’ arms and legs show signs of a

struggle, but no foreign DNA fibers could be identified. Reports of similar

blood and tissue loss from attacks by unregistered SUBs are on file, but no

suspect type can be recorded without further analysis. See appendix on

supernatural or undead beings for possibilities.

Her hands

started to sweat. “This is

what you wanted, remember?” She

tucked the file under her arm and wiped her palms on the hem of her pencil

skirt. “A chance to prove yourself, to be

a real reporter. No more gossip mags or d-bag bosses.”

The

little voice in the back of her mind started screaming, the bastard echoing her

fears. You should be nervous, pet. After all “Man gives

Birth to Two-Headed Alien” and “Tractor Comes to Life Killing

Farmer” don’t exactly put you up for a Pulitzer.

Rubbing her temple, she mouthed a silent, “Shut up.” Over the last eight years, she’d fought to tune out the annoying

monster, the secret she’d had to

keep from everyone. It was part of— okay,

maybe more than part of—the

reason she hadn’t contacted

the special agent again.

How could

she have a relationship with anyone when she had this thing in her head?

And that

was the big problem—it was

literally all in her head. Her mind to be exact. The neurons in her brain fired

on two different planes of thought. One was hers and the other belonged to

another, an entity. Sera could manage to get his side quiet most of the time,

but every now and again, he surfaced at just the right—or rather wrong—moment.

“Guy, if you start with me,” she said, addressing her inner

tormenter, “I swear I’ll zone out on sleeping pills for

the next three days.”

Touchy.

Whatsamatta? Big bad reporter got a bug up her—

“Stop it!” At sixteen, she’d dubbed the voice, Guy, and

thought he might be some type of supernatural creature or a part of her own

mixed heritage. Her human father refused to discuss Sera’s otherworldly side, and her

mother, who as an unregistered supernatural had no legal protection or paper

trail, died giving birth to Sera. Thus, the sole keys to unlocking the mystery

of her inhuman DNA remained buried. Whether Guy was some type of freak or just

a part of her damaged psyche didn’t make

much difference in the end. He still remained a major pain in the ass.

“Guy, can it. I don’t need your shit now.” She stalked down the football

field masquerading as a driveway to the front door, blocking out all other

thoughts than the task at hand. A tentative knock on the brass handle had her

fiddling with her bun and smoothing the wrinkles from her tan suit jacket. As

she waited, she shifted her feet, the high heels pinching her toes something

fierce.

“Ms. Brown?” she said, knocking again. “Ms. Brown, I’m from the Arizona Hornet. I’m here for an interview.” Sera could hear shuffling

inside, but the front door remained closed. She leaned to the right, trying to

catch a glimpse through the window. An overgrown myrtle bush blocked her view

and tickled her nose with its allspice scent. The sun reflected off the glass

in harsh streaks. She shielded her eyes with the back of her hand and tried to

keep the desperation from her voice. “Please, I

just want to ask some questions.”

More

shuffling preceded a scraping sound as the door opened mere inches. “Another reporter, huh. What’d you want now?” A pair of red-ringed eyes

narrowed on Sera.

“I’m sorry

to bother you, Ma’am.” Grabbing a pen in one hand, she

tightened her grip on her file with the other. She flipped through her notepad

and looked down at the list of questions. Nerves poked at her concentration.

The letters blurred together like a Rorschach inkblot. She chewed the pen cap.

The urge to rip the paper into tiny shreds made it impossible to focus. “This won’t take long. I have a few

questions about your sister’s

murd...about what happened to your sister.”

“I already told the police

everything I know.” She

clipped each word as if struggling to get them out through her clenched jaw.

Ms. Brown

began to close those precious inches. Cursing her stupidity at wearing heels,

Sera wedged her foot in the thin space.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The dark circles under Ms. Brown’s eyes lessened as her gaze

widened. “How dare

you!”

“You don’t understand. I think I can help

you.”

“Help me? You think you can help

me?” Ms. Brown shook her head and

muttered, “Crazy

bitch. The only way you can help me is if you bring my sister back from the

dead.”

The door

pulled open wide and an umbrella’s metal

tip poked Sera in the chest. She stumbled backward. “Ms. Brown, I want to find the

killers.”

“Get off my property! Or you’ll find a killer right here.” She slammed the door closed.

The chain

rattled as the lock slid into place.

Tina Moss

is an award-winning author of urban fantasy, paranormal romance, romantic

suspense, and New Adult novels. She lives in NYC with a supportive husband and

two alpha corgis, though all the males hog the bed and refuse to share the

covers. When not writing, she enjoys reading, watching cheesy horror flicks,

traveling, and karate. As a 5'1" Shotokan black belt, she firmly believes

that fierce things come in small packages.