Halloween can be murder! Liberty Heights is in a tizz over LouAnn’s costume party. Nobody can figure out why she says to come dressed as an Adams. Cool parties always have gatecrashers–which Adams has murder on his mind?
Excerpt: Adams and Eve, A Liberty Heights Halloween Short story coming in time for Halloween

She studied the man’s appearance although it was a long way up. Pale, practically an albino, with silver eyes, white blond cropped hair, and a weird lightening shaped scar on his forehead. Maybe he was a fan of Harry Potter. Wasn’t everyone?
Like BettyAnn, his clothes were black. Cargo pants and a black T-shirt that didn’t disguise rock hard pectoral muscles. Something about this man was familiar, but LouAnn couldn’t place him. Before she had time to consider where they might have met, Howie bounced into the kitchen. The suit jacket fit a bit too snug around his middle, strained buttons looked as if they might pop any second. Slicked back hair did nothing to disguise the bald patch, but LouAnn thought he made a terrific Gomez, especially with the long-stemmed rose clamped between his teeth which he dropped the second he caught sight of BettyAnn’s new squeeze. He stopped short and gazed at the stranger’s features. Admiration gleamed on his face.
“Wow! Great costume! Terrific Frankenstein,” Howie said.
The man frowned.
“His name isn’t Frank,” BettyAnn snapped. She didn’t bother to hide her annoyance. “It’s Simon. Simon P. Stein.”
“Yeah. No idea why everyone thinks my name is Frank. Happens all the time. Go figure,” Simon said.
“Simon’s a vampire,” BettyAnn explained.
Wayne growled. Howie shot a worried glance at LouAnn who could read his thoughts. A vampire. Leave it to BettyAnn to try to one-up her in the boyfriend sweepstakes. Howie was a magician, or more correctly, trying to become a magician. So far, none of his tricks worked. Maybe with BettyAnn visiting, she could give him some professional tips. Her sister was so darned high strung and temperamental, it was hard to know if she’d condescend to coach Howie. That was the problem with geniuses; they were all such difficult personality types who strained everyone’s patience. Diplomacy and tact usually were the best methods in LouAnn’s experience. At least, when it came to BettyAnn. She hoped Simon was a bit more easy-going than her sister. It was hard enough to tiptoe around BettyAnn, let alone a vampire.
“Nice of you to come to my party,” LouAnn said. “Sorry, but I don’t have anything with blood on the menu although the Sangria punch is red wine to make it look like blood.”
There was no disguising the relief on Simon’s face. “That’s good. I hate blood. Mostly, I eat ketchup. I’m working my way up to rare meat. To tell the truth, I prefer it well done.”