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Blood Bytes
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A Cerridwen Press Publication
www.cerridwenpress.com
Blood Bytes
ISBN 9781419910043
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Blood Bytes Copyright© 2007 Susan Phelan
Edited by Helen Woodall.
Cover art by Croco.
Electronic book Publication August 2007
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in
part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Cerridwen Press, 1056 Home
Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales
is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Cerridwen Press is an imprint of Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.®
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B LOOD B YTES
Susan Phelan
Dedication
For Carol and Gerry, whose own happy ending was interrupted, but will continue
in another time and place.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the
following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
BandAid: Johnson & Johnson Corporation
Barbie doll: Mattel, Incorporated
Calvin Klein: Calvin Klein Trademark Trust composed of Wilmington Trust
Company
Winston: GMB, Inc.
Blood Bytes
Prologue
New York City sometime in the future…
Friday night
Client SG1972 stood in front of the series of thin mirrors that dangled from the
ceiling studying her reflection.
Client SG1972.
That was the way she was referred to at the agency, so it would follow that it was
also the manner in which she had come to think of herself during these frequent
meetings.
No names, no shame.
Giving herself a once-over she looked at her strawberry blonde hair that fell straight
down to the center of her back, still a tad wet from her recent rinsing. A look of growing
excitement filled her large brown eyes and the freckles that were sprinkled across her
nose and cheeks seemed to positively jump out on her pale skin as if in fright.
Damn it but how she hated those little dots, she pouted, straightening her sleek
black dress that, like the flesh on her face, was flecked with tiny circles. Thanks to that
new morphing procedure—the latest rave that let you choose the tone, texture and even
the shape of your face and body to suit—she was a completely different looking
woman—well that is, different from what she had been yesterday. In actuality, she had
used the revolutionary new process to morph back to her “real” self for the date. Where
her former appearance, complete with a rich dark tan and ne’er a freckle in sight, had
been the fake version, now as she stood regarding her true look in the long skinny
mirrors that hung like icicles from the overhead beam, she wondered if she had made
the wrong decision by going au naturel . Then again, the smattering of pale dots did
make her look like she was seventeen as opposed to her actual age so they weren’t all
bad. But enough already with the obsession with her looks. After all, this wasn’t her
first time being the recipient of purchased pleasure by any stretch.
Sex for hire had long since become legalized, even commonplace, leaving the
human population eventually de-sensitized and bored with the blatant amount of
“normal” sex readily available. Starved for excitement, all sorts of sexual alternatives
were being explored, people ever in search of the ultimate experience. Advancements
galore in the field of medicine had created drugs to ensure better, faster and longer
couplings, even completely eliminating any kind of erectile dysfunction in human
males. However, it was only in the last few decades or so that the immortal equivalent
had, pardon the pun, sprung up. For the first time in history, the undead could partake
in sexual intercourse, and rumor had it mating with an immortal far exceeded any
human-on-human contact. This made the vampire lover a very, very hot commodity.
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