One Bad Bounce and You're Toast

I’d really been looking forward to a night on the town, showing the sexy Justice why Fort Walton, Indiana was known as the Paris of the Midwest. Okay, not really, but he doesn’t know that. Wink, wink. Unfortunately, instead of my sexy new over-the-knee boots, I’m wearing clunky work boots, and slogging through mud in search of patient zero for a new contagion. Good times.

 

My name is Raelene Kitt. My friends call me Rae. Not Kit Kat or Kitten, despite what my ex-husband told the local newspaper. Bless his heart. I’m a traveler. Not the suitcase bearing, sunscreen wearing, snotty hotel clerk glaring kind of traveler. I travel through dimensions. And occasionally I take on problems at home. Such as when the King of the Ghouls decided to dig himself a kingdom in our local ball park a few weeks ago. Or like now, when a weird contagion has overcome the city. And somebody’s decided I’m the right person to fix it.  Awesome.