Death is My BFFLAD Rewritten (Book 2 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 28: Playing House

HOWDY, REAPERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT'S CRACKIN? HOW DOST THOU DO?

So I had a decision with this chapter. Either I could post part of it and give you guys a taste of the sexy (hehe) chapter I've been working on, or make you guys wait another week or so. I'm trying to work in updating on Wattpad more now that I've made some headway with my writing project outside of Wattpad (hehehehe). I decided to post part of the chapter, figuring your comments and love will motivate me to finish the chapter quicker!!!

Where have I been????? What is this project I speak of?? I'M GLAD YOU ASKED. If you haven't been following my updates on Facebook/Twitter/my profile, I've been writing for the PUBLISHED version of Death Is My BFF!! Since June of 2017 I've been rewriting Death Is My BFF (again) to be published! New scenes, new one-liners, and so many AWESOME new scenes with Death and Faith. I'm in the early stages of editing and a LOT had to be changed, but it's all for the better! I've already finished about 14 chapters already and it is AMAZING so far! I'm VERY excited for you guys to see the published version, it's turning out so delicious!!!!! mwaahhahaa ;))))

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH ME DURING THIS PROCESS!!! MOMMA LOVES YOU!!

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Twitter/Instagram/Snapchat: katrocks247

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When I finally mustered up the courage to exit my guest bedroom, imagine my surprise when there was a buffet of food waiting on Death's dinning room table.

            "Whoa."

            The first thing my starving eyes fell on was large ceramic tray filled to the brim with mac and cheese. My mouth watered. It wasn't the store bought, rubbery kind of mac and cheese where you dump in bright yellow artificial powder and mix, which I often ate at home, but instead a homemade mac and cheese with bacon and a bread crumb crust. Next to that was a bowl of pan-fried string beans with almonds, a Caesar salad with crotons, lettuce, tomato and cucumber, and a fresh fruit salad with champagne grapes.  By the time I saw the mountain of mashed potatoes, my empty stomach was howling like a wolf standing before twenty full moons.

            Had Death made all of this? There was no way. I couldn't imagine a man as intimidating and beastly as him having the patience to make food. Edging closer to the table, I stole a glance around the spacious, dim apartment. Where even was he?

            Wasting no more time, I grabbed a plate that was set up on the table, took a serving spoon, and shoveled that sexy mac and cheese onto my plate.

            Ravenous, I snuck a big forkful of pasta before I added anything else to my dish and muffled a moan. Oh, hell yes–

            "You didn't say grace."

            Startled, I whirled around with a yelp and nearly choked on my food. Death, of course, was directly behind me.

He leaned against the archway leading toward the bedrooms, a smirk curving his pierced lips. His fawx hawk of midnight black hair was slightly damp and wild, leaving a few slightly curly-wavy strands tumbling over his forehead. He had definitely showered, by the delicious scent of citrus with notes of fresh laundry and leather he was dispersing like a sweet poison from his pores. Wearing only dark grey sweatpants, a black long sleeved T-shirt, and his typical black leather gloves, the bastard worked the comfort-sexy outfit effortlessly.