Padme's Library: 06/30/22

Thursday, June 30, 2022

🌈Happy Pride Month 2022🌈: Top 20 LGBT Vampire Reads Part 4

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Here at Padme's Library I feature all genres but followers have probably noticed that 95% of the posts and 99% of my reviews fall under the LGBT genres, so for this year's Pride Month I am showcasing 20 of my favorite M/M vampires in no particular order. Vampires of all sorts perfectly blended with romance, drama, mystery, humor, and heart, creating unforgettable reads.

One Last Note:
Some of those on my list I have read, reread, & even listened/re-listened so I've included the review posted in my latest read/listen. Also, those that are read/re-read as a series the latest review may be an overall series review. If any of the purchase links included here don't work be sure and check the authors' websites/social media for the most recent links as they can change over time for a variety of reasons.

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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Overexposed by K Evan Coles

Summary:

As the only vampire employed by the NYPD, forensic photographer Noah Green isn’t exactly popular. He’s worked alongside humans for decades and avoids attachments with the bleeders around him … but hasn’t done much to avoid a certain West Village baker, who has no idea what Noah really is.

Danny Kaes is done hooking up, at least when it comes to fangers. He’s too busy running his Filipino bakery, Nice Buns, to dwell on the dramas of dating, and if he misses the thrill of sharp teeth on his throat, he knows he’s better off with his own kind … like the CSU hottie who stops by before sunrise.

While working a string of suspicious deaths, Noah finds Danny at a crime scene, traumatized after discovering a body, and now in in the killer’s crosshairs. Surprising even himself, Noah offers Danny his couch, knowing he’ll have to come clean about his blood eater identity.

Days bleed into nights as the killer closes in, leading Noah and the cops in a mad scramble to protect Danny from dangers he never imagined. What Noah can’t protect himself from are his feelings for Danny and how they’ve made him question everything he thought he knew about his own vampire life.

Overexposed is a 92+K paranormal mystery MM romance. It features a crime scene photographer who thinks he’s got the whole vampire thing figured out, a bakery owner who’s sworn off inter-species dating, an unfortunate number of murders, more mayhem than anyone asked for, and a hard-won, deeply satisfying HEA.

HOLY HANNAH BATMAN! or perhaps HOLY HANNAH VLAD-MAN! K Evan Coles brings so many factors to the table here in Overexposed: paranormal, heat, mystery, heat, romance, heat, crime, heat, humor, heat, heart, and did I mention heat?😉😉

There have been so many worlds created surrounding vampires that it's difficult to really be unique anymore so is the fact that the world knows about vamps(or fangers as many in this story use) in Overexposed original? No. Is Noah's hesitancy when it comes to Danny new? No. Is it new having vampires involved in solving the mystery? No. Is a vamp/human MC pairing original? No.

AND YET . . .

K Evan Coles has created factors, elements, and settings that though may not be 100% undone before, they leave the reader with a feeling of "now that's an intriguing take". Will I go into particulars with this statement . . . you know the answer to that: no. Overexposed may have been released back in January I refuse to spoil anything taking away any sense of adrenaline rush for those who haven't read it yet.

What I will say is Noah and Danny are amazing together and equally amazing individuals. Their personalities should clash but instead Coles has found a way to make those differing qualities end up not being all that different, once they open up. I loved the friendship between Noah and Cho, where Noah sees fear in Cho's eyes(in a scene I won't delve into further), Cho sees the want to learn, to understand, to fully appreciate just how hard it is for Noah when it comes to crime scenes and evidence. In the history of vampire fiction we know how important the 5 senses can be but in Overexposed, the author helps us to truly feel how important the senses most of us take for granted are to those in the vampire world, to the whole paranormal community really.

I feel I've already gave away more tidbits than I intended to so I'll stop here with only a couple of little thoughts more. First, I would love to see the author explore this world she created further, I don't want to say goodbye to Noah and Danny but the potential for so many more amazing journeys is off the charts. Second, I'm not generally one for police procedural mysteries, if done wrong it can just weigh a story down but in this vampire-known-to-the-world story, I actually found it quite perfectly balanced and it opened my eyes to rethink some of the previous procedural stories I've read and maybe didn't quite enjoy.

Another K Evan Coles win!

RATING:

The Vampire's Dinner by TJ Nichols

Summary:

For vampire Charles Redfort, Christmas is a bitter reminder of the day he was killed by a werewolf. After fleeing the vampire army he was created to serve in, he has lived in exile in England. Once a year he allows himself to tell the truth about his life over dinner. Then he eats the man he’s hired for the night.

Blake Wells is an engineering student by day and escort by night. He works Christmas because he doesn’t want to see his father, and his mother doesn’t want to see him. When he meets Charles, he thinks he’s gotten a bonus present that he can’t wait to unwrap. But as the truth is revealed, Blake will have to think fast to live until morning and convince Charles to give up his lonely life.

Original Review January 2017:
Vampires at Christmas? What is this madness? Well, The Vampire's Dinner is a beautiful story of finding something you didn't even realize you were missing. Paranormal, Christmas, and heart makes this a wonderful addition to my holiday shelf.

RATING:

End Street Volume 3 by Amber Kell & RJ Scott

Summary:

The Case of the Purple Pearl#5

After failing in a quest to win the Fae Queen’s approval, Halstein is locked in a world of stone. Forced to remain a gargoyle he spends his days on Sam’s desk pining for his lost love.

Prince Idris’s lover went missing and was presumed dead. Alone, Idris lives a life away from court, starved of energy but unwilling to sleep in the room he once shared with his beloved.

Can Sam and Bob save these fated lovers before it's too late? And will Bob’s ultimate sacrifice be enough to free Hal from his prison?

The Case of the Guilty Ghost #6

Bob is lost in grief, Sam is fighting for his life, and there is no middle ground. Can their love survive?

Bob is grieving over his brother’s sacrifice. Guilt-ridden and devastated, he buries himself in vampire mourning and pulls away from Sam.

Magic tears Sam from the vampire castle and he has to face new adversaries alone, when all he wants is Bob at his side.

Ettore is in the Aset Ka waiting room, next in line for the ceremony for his soul to be torn from his body. Aset Ka has other plans, and Ettore finds himself reunited with a lost love and fighting alongside his brother.

A forgotten past binds Theodore ‘Teddy’ McCurray Constantine III to Ettore, and with the curse tied to Ettore broken by his death, Teddy’s past returns to him with a vengeance.

A royal family in denial, a battle between gods, and long forgotten love leaves no time for Sam and Bob to take a breath. Is it too late to save the supernatural world?

The Case of the Purple Pearl#5

Re-Read March 2017:

Better than ever. Sam and Bob's chemistry just jumps off the page and knowing the end didn't take away an ounce of enjoyment the second time around.

Original Read October 2016:

With number 5 we learn how the stone gargoyle came to be stone, but is he a real gargoyle? I think you all know what my next statement will be: you'll have to read that for yourself. As it is with everything in Sam's world, there's often more questions than answers and this time Purple Pearl ends in a bit of a cliffhanger, luckily for me I only have to wait a few weeks for number 6. Sam and Bob may not always seem to be the main characters in the plot but they are at the heart of it, this time it seems more dangerous but as always, Sam the human-non human and Bob the vampire's love is true and bright but can it survive their newest case?

The Case of the Guilty Ghost #6

Original Review April 2017:

I had bittersweet feels about this one when the release day came around. On the plus side, End Street Detective Agency Series is amazing, stupendous, fabulous, well frankly it's just plain great all around. On the minus side, it's the conclusion, the end, finale, final, finis, no more, well frankly that leaves me with just all kinds of boo-hooing. So as you can imagine, I hated to begin because then it would be it when I hit the last page but I couldn't not read The Case of the Guilty Ghost, the gang cried out to be read.

What can I say about Guilty Ghost without giving anything away? Not too much really but I can't stress enough that this is NOT a standalone, you have to start at the beginning with The Case of the Cupid Curse. I will say that Sam has finally accepted that he's not entirely human, although I don't think he likes it being pointed out. His magic, or paranormality if you will, continues to grow and we finally learn why he is what he is as so many factors fall into place.

We have vampires, dragons, and ghosts, oh my! Bob's brother returns, Teddy the ghost's history is revealed, the evil is uncovered, and the future is shaky but it's all yummy. RJ Scott and Amber Kell have created a world that one can get lost in and who knew it would go where it did when Bob the Vampire rented a room from Sam the human(he thinks). I have already re-read the first five stories even though it hasn't even been 6 months since my original read and I'm already looking forward to my next re-read, which probably says more about how much I love this universe than all the words I've already written. End Street has definitely earned it's prime position on my paranormal shelf.

Original Overall Series Review October 2016(1-5):

How had I not read this series before? It should have been a no brainer considering how much I love RJ Scott's work not to mention that it's a collaboration with Amber Kell. Oh well, it's always nice to stumble onto an unexpected surprise and that is definitely what you get with End Street Detective Agency, surprise blended with humor, drama, mystery, paranormal, and of course underneath it all and entwined throughout is love. Ghosts, vampires, sirens, wolfs, dragons, faes, gargoyles, familiars, demons, and the list goes on. Who knew so many paranormal entities could not only co-exist but even work, live, and love together? No matter how many books RJ & Amber decide to write in the End Street universe, I have a feeling that it will be a very real probability that it's a series I'll revisit often and most likely every Halloween. A must read if you are even the slightest bit of a paranormal fan.

RATING:

Vampire Wishes by Teegan Loy
Summary:
Griffin McKellan has a secret . . . actually, more than one.

He wants to take a class at the local university, but he's got more than studying on his mind. Griffin's enamored with the professor, Jackson Grady. He’s spent months spying on the guy, but now he has to meet him face to face.

And even though Griffin wants nothing more than to teach the professor a thing or two, there’s a huge problem standing in his way.

Vampires don’t usually date their food source.

Original Review October 2019:
Vampire Wishes is a short, fun read that I found very entertaining. The idea of a new-ish vampire wanting to attend college, be it to learn, to experience life, or to get closer to a certain professor. Whatever the reasoning behind Griffin's wishes, I loved it. Jackson, the professor of Griffin's crush is at times a bit off-putting and comes across as harsh and self-evolved but then you learn the why behind his attitudes and everything makes sense. I won't lie, I was expecting something completely different behind Jackson's behavior but the author's direction was much more enjoyable than the Halloweeny, twisty, turny possibilities that went through my imagination.

I loved the friendship between Griffin and Kieran. Kieran comes across as, well not really a me-me-me kind of character but one that definitely wants to experience all the joys in a vampire's life and he does enjoy the highs of his existence but he really cares about Griffin too. There were a few moments when I thought him almost jealous of Griffin's crush and feelings for Jackson but then I realized its more out of a brotherly almost fatherly love for the young vampire not soulmate-love. Definitely a lovely friendship that isn't always explored in the vampire genres.

Vampire Wishes is the first story I've read by Teegan Loy but it won't be the last. I look forward to checking out her backlist.

RATING:

Thirsting for More by Claire Cray

Summary:

Cal's seven years as a vampire haven't been so bad. After being turned by a horny immortal he never saw again, he got used to things pretty quick. The aphrodisiac venom has been an unexpected perk, keeping him supplied with beautiful boys who double as meals.

There's just one thorn in his side: for this entire seven years, Cal has suffered a painful unrequited crush on the vampire Ira. Cool, narcissistic, and loudly straight, Ira drifts in and out of his life as he pleases, soaking up Cal's attention when he's around and then leaving him alone with his hopeless desires.

After Ira's latest departure, Cal has decided to get over him for good. But now Ira's back with a shocking proposition that threatens to change their dynamic forever...

Original Review October 2017:
Thirsting for More is a great little short story. What it lacks in quantity it makes up for in quality. I will say that I would have loved to have seen more of Cal and Ira's history as a novella or novel length tale but as a short story it's just the right blend of paranormal, lust, drama, love, and friendship. Oh, and did I mention the heat? There's the want to bang their heads together and shout "TALK TO EACH OTHER!" but where would the fun be in that? If you're looking for a short read that will get the heart pumping in a multitude of ways than Claire Cray's Thirsting for More is a must.

RATING:

Overexposed by K Evan Coles

PROLOGUE

October 30, 1919 7:05 P.M.

Fire licked through Noah Green’s lungs. He kept running anyway, ignoring the stitch in his side. Growing up, he’d always been fast, the tall kid everyone picked for games, knowing his speed came with endurance. Once Noah had possession of the ball, he could be counted on to keep driving toward the goal.

Noah was doing that now. Pressing forward, legs aching and his breaths loud to his own ears. He’d keep running for as long as he could. Had to, though his chances of ‘winning’ anything were slim.

He wasn’t playing a game tonight. He’d made a mistake. And now he was running for his life.

Taking a corner, he searched for another burst of speed, the slap of his boots on the pavement echoing off the buildings around him. Lighter footfalls followed behind, so different from Noah’s desperate pounding. They’d matched his perfectly from the very beginning of this race, no matter how fast he ran, and he’d known after only a few blocks that the vampire tailing him was enjoying the chase. And that maybe the only reason he wasn’t already dead was because the fanger wanted to exhaust its prey before pouncing.

Noah didn’t know this neighborhood—he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere several blocks back. The streets and sidewalks were empty and the lights over every doorway dark. A citywide dusk-till-dawn curfew had been in place for weeks, barring humans who didn’t work nights from being outside and, even then, only at their own risk. New Yorkers complained bitterly about the restrictions during daylight hours, but were quick to disappear after sunset, locking themselves in their homes and drawing the blinds to keep the night out. Staying outdoors after dusk was dangerous now that the supernatural beings who’d always lived among them were walking around in plain sight, and every human knew it.

Noah would be inside too if this were a typical evening, either in his own Chelsea flat or his parents’ place in Midtown. He dined there several times a week after work and always stayed overnight. His mother was so certain her unmarried son was languishing alone in his set of rooms, helpless at keeping house or feeding himself. Noah didn’t mind indulging her imaginings. Not when sitting down to eat corned beef hash and listen to her thoughts on finding him a wife made her happy.

He’d been prepared for more of the same tonight. Dinner and talk about Noah needing to be married. But Niels and Marion Green had started in on a far more serious topic during dinner, namely the rash of inter-species crime that had thrown the city into turmoil.

“A young man who lived two doors down was killed this week!” Noah’s father exclaimed. “Meanwhile, we all live in fear, hiding inside our homes every night because it’s not safe to go out. I don’t understand why the mayor doesn’t do something.”

“Like what?” Noah set down his glass. “He can’t just order the fangers to vacate New York, Dad. Most have probably lived here longer than you’ve been alive.”

“And? That’s hardly a reason to let them and the shifters run roughshod over the rest of us.” Niels made a face. “Supernaturals are dangerous, Noah, especially the vampires. The gangs are ruthless, killing people and worse every day.”

“I know.” Noah frowned. He’d heard the stories of humans being taken and changed; they all had. He still knew better than to assume that every person who died or disappeared did so at the hands of a supernatural. “But we can’t pin the gangs’ behaviors on any vamp as if they were all cut from the same cloth.”

“They are cut from the same cloth, and it’s entirely unnatural.” Niels shot a grim look at his wife. “Those things may live among us, but they are not welcome in the human world. Vampires and shifters have their own places to go in this city. They’ve practically taken over Five Points, and there are blood bars popping up all over downtown.”

Marion’s face was haunted as she met Noah’s gaze. “I’ve heard those awful places are full every night, even with the curfew. But … I just don’t understand why any decent human goes near them. Mixing with fangers. Offering themselves up as if they enjoy it.” She shuddered, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Those poor souls are damned.”

Noah ground his teeth and took another corner. He and his friends talked about visiting the blood bars all the time, just for a thrill. Hearing his parents speak like that, though—understanding how profoundly they hated beings they’d never even met—had been painful. He’d stood his ground anyway, firm in his belief that a world where humans and supernaturals were equal was better for everyone, while his mother and father raged back at him, their hurt and confusion plain.

None of it mattered now. Because Noah was so, so screwed.

He’d opted to go home to Chelsea after dinner instead of staying overnight with his parents, hopeful that some time apart would help cool their tempers. But he’d forgotten to heed the time and the darkness falling over the streets, and he’d only traveled a block or two before the fanger had started tailing him. Now Noah was lost with nowhere to hide, and knew that if he died out here tonight, losing him would hurt his family far more than any dinnertime argument.

Voices nearby caught his attention and Noah’s heart leapt, hope nearly choking him. He pulled up short as two figures appeared in his path and almost knocked him off balance.

“Jesus.” Chest heaving, he swung his arms in wild pinwheels, fighting to stay upright as a young girl and boy stared up at him like Noah had lost his mind. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

The boy’s eyes narrowed in his pale face. Though he and the girl looked barely past childhood, he gave a mighty scowl. “Could ask you the same,” he said, voice hard. “Ain’t none of your business.”

The girl sniffed in seeming agreement. “Anyone with eyes can see y’ don’t belong here,” she said to Noah.

“Maybe not,” he started, “but you don’t understand—”

“And I don’t wanna, Mister.” The girl frowned at him. “You oughta go if you don’t want no trouble.”

She jerked her head at a nearby alley and Noah spied what he thought might be a brewery at its end, doors standing open and a broad-shouldered figure just beyond the threshold. But before he could speak again, a hand settled on Noah’s shoulder and the air in his lungs rushed out of him in a single whoosh.

“Off you go, young miss,” said a silky-smooth voice, “before I show you what trouble really looks like.”

Noah stood, unable to move as a figure fitted itself against his back. He heard the kids run off, boots clattering over the cobblestones as they hustled toward safety, but he knew better than to expect they’d send any help. No one was coming. The workers inside the brewery would bolt the doors, and even if they’d had some way to contact the cops, the NYPD weren’t going to risk their own skins for some fool who’d broken curfew. Even if said fool was a tender-age kid working for pennies under the table like the boy who’d run off, or a young man like Noah who just wanted to get home.

Noah’s breath split the silence that followed, and the hand on his shoulder moved, gently cupping his jaw. A second hand took hold of his waist, the light touches guiding Noah around until he was face to face with the vampire who’d chased him. He—it?—was shorter than Noah and slim, with a shock of light hair and ordinary features that belonged to a man. The vampire’s eyes were beautiful, however, shining and so dark. They grabbed hold of Noah more tightly than the hands on his body.

“Oh.”

Noah knew he’d spoken, but it felt like a dream. He’d read plenty about vamps and other supernaturals and learned from a young age to stick with his own kind if he wanted to be safe. That the species shouldn’t mix. And he should be afraid of this being before him, despite his gentle voice and eyes.

Noah didn’t feel any fear, however. And nothing could have moved him from that spot.

He forgot his aching lungs and legs, and the hammering of his heart sounded distant. He’d never been this close to a vampire, at least not that he’d ever known, and saw immediately that they were nothing like he might have expected. His touch wasn’t cold at all but warm, and he was vital, so shockingly alive. Pink lips curved in a smile, while the eyes fixed on Noah saw inside him. Captivated him so totally, he hardly knew how he was still standing. Noah was enthralled. And didn’t mind one bit.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The vampire’s tone was wonderfully easy, words like caresses over Noah’s skin while a spicy, luscious scent filled his senses. He closed his eyes against the heat buzzing through him, and it warmed his blood in a rush.

“Noah.”

“A name that suits you well.” The vampire was still smiling when Noah opened his eyes, and he moved his hand gently over Noah’s cheek, stroking skin that burned hot. “Look at that blush. And those eyes, mmm. You really are enticing.”

Noah leaned into the touch with no idea what to say. He was probably being rude. But the vampire didn’t seem to mind at all and took another step closer.

“My name is Morgan,” he said. “Would you like to have a drink with me?”

“Have to … I have to work tomorrow. But yes.”

God, Noah wanted. The drink. To hear this Morgan speak. Noah didn’t give a damn, so long as he could have more of that electric touch. He wanted it. More. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t sure what ‘more’ even meant. Nothing could matter when Morgan swept him close and everything else fell away.

Lips too soft to be real brushed against his throat.

The following sting was fleeting.

And it made Noah fly.

The Vampire's Dinner by TJ Nichols

SNOW WAS falling and settling on the footpath that ran through the center of the park. He wanted to be able to appreciate the swirling flakes before they melted away, but he couldn’t. The beauty was transient and would be ugly brown slush tomorrow.

Lights of every color had been strung from the trees. The tree in the center was lit up so bright he wondered if it would catch fire. He half hoped it would just so he could see the humans watching the carolers scurry.

His cane tapped on the ground as he walked, his leg stiff from the old injury. He could’ve skirted the park, but it would have taken him longer. However, as the voices of the choir carried toward him, he wished he had. Their overly saccharine songs and Christmas cheer made his fangs ache—although that could be hunger.

A snowball hit the back of his leg, and he stumbled, caught himself on his cane, and put too much weight on his bad leg. He turned, ready to growl. The kid who’d thrown the snowball smirked even as his mother apologized.

There were too many people around, and they were all here having a good time. He curled his lips in something that approximated a smile and kept walking. Christmas. He hated the cheer and the goodwill. Mostly he hated being reminded of the day he died.

The gleaming lights of the hotel greeted him from the other side of the park, and he quickened his pace. He checked his watch. He had half an hour until his evening plans would begin. If everything else went smoothly, that was plenty of time, but today had been full of delays.

Heat hit him as he walked through the hotel door. He didn’t spare a nod for the man standing there bundled up against the damp London cold.

The hotel concierge greeted him with a perky attitude that bordered on obsequious. “Mr. Redfort, we are so glad to have you back this Christmas. Your suite has been prepared. Will you be having your usual meal?”

“Yes.” He hadn’t been able to eat in over four hundred years, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to sample roast duck and Christmas pudding with brandy sauce. “That would be delightful, Peter.”

He’d made the effort to read the man’s name tag. People liked that kind of thing, and he had learned if one was very polite to the staff and left a large tip, one could literally get away with murder.

On Christmas that was exactly what he did.

End Street Volume 3 by Amber Kell & RJ Scott

The Case of the Purple Pearl#5

Chapter One

“What are you doing?”

Sam sighed. This was the fifth time today their visiting gargoyle had asked him that. Three weeks had passed since it had decided to stay at the house and wait for Sam to find it a master. And those three weeks had lasted a very long time.

“Taxes,” Sam muttered. The same answer he’d given every single time he’d been asked.

“I don’t like math,” the little gargoyle said. He waddled across Sam’s desk, leaving small muddy footprints on a neatly filled-in form. Sam couldn’t even muster the energy to get angry.

“Are you going to tell me your name yet?” Sam asked. He placed his pen on the desk and leaned back with a stretch, eying the small gargoyle against the hulking monstrosity that sat immobile on the corner of his desk. They were so dissimilar, in size and expression.

“You know I can only tell my master.”

“I can’t keep calling you the little gargoyle. I’m going to have to give you a name.”

The little gargoyle turned in a circle to face Sam, then squatted into a pose with his mouth open in a snarl. It looked pretty mean, and Sam edged back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

The gargoyle’s expression changed back to the one he usually had; that of a dopey baby.

“Nothing, I was just giving you my fierce face so you can give me the right name. I’m not having you calling me Sunshine or Cutie. I want something strong like Zephariel Angel of Vengeance.”

Sam couldn’t help the snort of laughter, then immediately felt guilty when the gargoyle’s expression fell. “Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s just, uhm, that name is taken. How about Leo, like a lion, a brave, strong lion.”

The gargoyle tilted his head in contemplation, then nodded. “Leo, I like Leo. I’m done with you now. You already have a gargoyle. I’m going to find my true master.”

That decided, he jumped down off the desk and waddled over to the door, sidestepping awkwardly when Smudge slunk in with intent in every step. In a leap, Smudge was up on the desk, sitting right on the tax forms and staring straight into Sam’s face.

“What are you doing?” Smudge asked telepathically.

“Taxes,” Sam answered. He didn’t add a sigh this time.

“You should be tracking down what kind of other your uncle’s pet gargoyle is.”

Leo, the newly named visiting gargoyle, had declared that the old paperweight on Sam’s desk that looked like a gargoyle, walked like a gargoyle, and was stone like a gargoyle, wasn’t actually a gargoyle at all, but other.

“Where do you suggest I start? And why can’t you tell what it is, oh powerful familiar.” Sam couldn’t help the sarcasm. Smudge was capable of putting souls back in bodies and using heavy magic, but he couldn’t track down what kind of paranormal had been transformed into an ancient crumbling gargoyle paperweight?

“I’ll forget you said that,” Smudge said condescendingly. “I’ve been busy.”

“With what?” Sam asked. Privately he thought Smudge spent too much time cleaning himself with his paws up in the air and his tongue—

“I can hear you,” Smudge warned. “And who else do you think can keep your attic spider infestation at bay?”

Sam shuddered. He didn’t like small spiders at best, let alone the giant ones Smudge had suggested lived only a few floors up. “Good work,” Sam praised. “And as to our paperweight friend here—” Sam tapped the solid stone thing on the head with a stapler. “—I’ve put out a request to everyone I know as to who may be missing someone. I used the ParaGoogle to see if anyone knows anything. Not sure what else I can do at this stage.”

Smudge gave a feline version of a huff, deliberately washed himself on the desk for a good five minutes, then disappeared out of the room. Sam shook off the fur that had fallen on his paperwork. This needed to be done and, unless he finished it soon, he’d have the authorities fining him all over the place.

A knock on his office door jerked Sam from his sad contemplation of the bills he had to pay. Although he’d earned some money recently and he owned the building where he worked and lived, the flow of money going out far exceeded the money rushing into his pockets.

Taxes were a bitch.

“Come in!” he shouted.

Sam lifted an eyebrow at the sight of the dark-haired man entering his office. The strangest part of his visitor was his apparent ordinariness. The man’s eyes didn’t glow with vampire ire, he didn’t growl with pent-up werewolf angst, and his average height and weight could only be explained one way. Human. He must be lost.

“Sorry, I knocked on the front door but no one answered. I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in.” The man indicated the entrance with a vague wave.

“No. Of course not.” Sam would have to learn to either lock his outer door or get an alarm of some kind. The doorbell had stopped working a few days ago, and Sam suspected their water heater might be ready to explode at any moment. Bob swore it would be fine, but it gurgled at Sam the last time he went to the basement to get the laundry. He might have to give in and hire a handyman. Neither he nor Bob were very useful around the house.

“I’m Abbott Williams. I heard you were a detective.” The man held up a flyer as if that explained his presence.

Sam stood to shake hands. “I’m Sam Enderson. Nice to meet you. Yes, I am a detective.” He accepted the yellow paper Abbott handed over. It listed Sam’s detective agency, their location on a little map, and little else. It did have a nice picture of the building, though. “I don’t remember having any flyers printed up.”

Abbott shrugged. “I found it at the bar down the street. Anyway, I need you to follow my boyfriend around. I think he’s cheating on me. Are you interested in the job or not?”

Sam tossed the flyer on his desk to study later. Bob probably made them and forgot to tell Sam about it. “Break up with him. That’s what I did.”

“Some guy cheated on you?” Abbott made it sound as if he couldn’t imagine such a thing happening.

“Yep. But I got over it.” At least that’s what Sam kept telling himself whenever he thought of his ex’s betrayal. Bob usually pulled him out of the bad memories with a blowjob. Worked every time.

The young man’s mouth tightened in annoyance. “I can’t just break up with him.”

“Why not? If you really suspect he’s cheating on you, he probably is.” Sam knew from his own experience that glossing over problems in a relationship didn’t improve the situation. “You’re better off without him.”

“I don’t want to be without him. I love him.”

“If he loved you back he wouldn’t cheat,” Sam said flatly. He’d hate to be the one who had to tell Abbott he’d been right about his boyfriend.

“I can pay,” Abbott insisted. He pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and tossed it on the desk. “I don’t want you to do anything else. I want to know the truth. Just find out if he’s cheating. After that, I can decide what to do.”

The man’s desperate words struck a chord with Sam. Of course, so did Abbott’s nice crinkly stack of bills. “Have a seat and tell me all about this boyfriend of yours.”

What could it hurt to do a little surveillance? After all, hadn’t Sam gotten into this business to help people? Surely hunting down one human and taking some pictures would be way easier than the other stuff he was always tangled up in. Bob should be happy that Sam finally got a non-supernatural case. At least this time no one would be trying to set him on fire.

Once he’d settled in the chair opposite Sam, Abbott handed over a photo. “This is Greg.”

Sam took the picture Abbott handed over. A dark-haired man with green eyes looked back at him.

“He’s cute.”

“I know,” Abbott said.

“Okay,” Sam began. “I’ll take the case, but the usual proviso is that if I find something you don’t like, the End Street Detective Agency can’t be held responsible.”

Abbott nodded. “I understand.”

Sam pushed across the requisite forms and disclaimers, which Abbott signed. They shook hands, and then Abbott gave some extra details about places and dates and where Sam might find the philandering boyfriend before he left.

Sam counted the money; easily enough to cover the bills for the next two weeks.

A quick, easy job for good money.

Now this was what being a private detective was all about.

The Case of the Guilty Ghost #6

Chapter 1

Sam took the stairs two at a time, all one hundred and sixty of them, to the top of the tower, leaving him gasping for oxygen. He’d seen Bob heading that way, or dreamed it, or half woke and imagined it. He didn’t know what exactly, only that somehow, he knew he would find Bob at the top of the black tower. He ducked the low lintel, slid to an ungainly halt on the stone floor, unbalanced and grabbed at the wall to hold himself upright.

“Bob?” he called into the dark corners of the tower, but there was no reply. His vampire lover didn’t step from the shadows with a smile or words of love. The place was empty, and the only presence Sam sensed was spiders. Knowing his luck, they were man-eating spiders.

“Sam!”

Sam winced at the shout up the stairs, and then heard huffing and cursing as the owner of the deep voice appeared in the doorway. Jin, who had never quite gone home, citing that he was responsible for Sam, was way past pissed. At least Jin, being a dragon shifter, could light up the room. Then Sam recalled he could light up the room just by thinking about it.

“I want there to be light,” he murmured, and then held up his hand to block his eyes as a pure white light exploded in the center of the room, filling every corner before receding back to a steady glowing orb.

He blinked, the light burning his retina. He closed his eyes tight, willing the spotted vision to go.

“What are you doing up here?” Jin asked. He sounded wary, like everyone else tiptoeing around Sam these past two weeks.

“Bob,” Sam said. When he opened his eyes again, he could see the entire room. An elaborate altar took up the far side of the circular chamber, built into the wall and covered in years of dusty cobwebs, likely from the imagined killer spiders. He stepped toward it, a low humming drawing his attention. Jin moved to block his way.

“Leave it, Sam,” Jin said. His hard tone left no room for discussion.

The noise of more footsteps stomping up the stairs, then Lambert, Sam’s vampire liaison, appeared at the top. Lambert, a tall stretched-skinny vampire with eerily cloudy eyes, had a propensity to follow Sam everywhere, spouting fear at everything and anything.

“Sire, you can’t be in here,” Lambert said, waving his hands ineffectively.

Sam spun back around to face the altar. “Stop calling me sire,” he muttered under his breath. He was getting pretty sick of how people treated him in the damn castle. Half the vampires lauded him as a ruler of supernaturals, the other half wanted him either locked up or gone. The first group assigned Lambert to him. They felt Sam needed an escort in the vampire kingdom because he was, in their words, special. Lambert was the kind of paranormal stuck firmly in the past. The historian kept talking about the old days like they were better times.

Sam wasn’t sure why Lambert had been so accepting of him given he was A, human, and B, with Bob.

Jin held up a hand, glowing with the remnants of dragon fire magic and placed it flat on Sam’s chest. It didn’t burn, only fizzled, and popped sending a small shock through his body.

“Sam, talk to me,” Jin demanded.

The humming from the altar intensified, and a voice in Sam’s head was saying the same things over and over, Sam, I am here, and I need your help.

“I can hear Bob in my head, he called me up here,” Sam repeated.

“No, you can’t have heard him,” Lambert corrected. “The mate link is blocked in times of mourning. You are hearing something else, dark magic maybe. You need to come back down to your chamber where you are safe.”

A mixture of exasperation and fear crossed Lambert’s face when Sam stepped back toward the altar.

“I want to see him.” He’d been too long without Bob. Their separation was causing cracks in his sanity.

“It’s not much longer until he’s done,” Jin reassured.

“Please come away, Sam,” Lambert pleaded. That was new. Lambert never called him Sam.

“Just take my hand,” Jin said, holding out his hand.

Sam stepped backward, more toward the altar, and he heard Lambert let out a small curse.

“Take my hand, Sam,” Jin said. “This is stupid and dangerous.”

Sam turned on Jin, sparks flying from his fingers. Jin stepped back from him, narrowly avoiding the biting magic. “Stay away from me.”

He shook his fingers, electricity passing up his arm. Usually when that happened, Bob was there to hold his hands, settle him and take away the pinpricks of pain.

“Come away, Sam,” Jin said.

“Listen to the dragon,” Lambert added, his voice thick with fear.

“You and Jin do what I say,” Sam snapped, not knowing where the superiority in his voice was coming from.

Sam fought his loss of control. So much for me being a higher supernatural. Every day without Bob felt like torture, and Sam was lost without his vampire lover next to him. The headaches, the sparks of energy from his fingers, and the pain in his chest grew more intense with each hour that passed. He knew Bob was in mourning. Hell, Sam respected the traditions, but right then, all he wanted was his lover by his side.

Hurry up, the voice in his head said. I need your help.

He shook off the words and concentrated on Lambert. “Take me to the Sanctum, let me see Bob, convince me he isn’t calling for my help, and I will come with you.” He wasn’t being unreasonable, they were.

“This is an ancient rite.” Lambert seemed stunned that Sam was asking this. “No humans.”

“Something is wrong.” With me? With him? Something is terribly wrong, but no one is listening.

“What is wrong? Is it your head?” Jin asked, his voice low, and his expression concerned.

Yes. No. Hell, I don’t know. I know Bob loves me, and I love him. I just need to kiss him.

Instead, he said, “I have to help Bob with his grieving. We can’t be apart like this.”

Sam didn’t know what made him say it that way; he wasn’t needy, it wasn’t a normal need for lovers to be together. His instincts had been screaming at him that he and Bob shouldn’t be apart.

Ever!

Lambert gasped as he did every time Sam suggested he should be part of any ancient vampire rite. “A non-pureblood cannot help with the rituals of grieving.”

Sam knew Lambert was winding himself up to that whole vampire purity speech and he sighed. Jin must have sensed his irritability because he rounded on Lambert and roared, fire sparking around him. Lambert stumbled back in shock.

“Wait for us outside,” Jin ordered.

Lambert looked torn between staying to keep an eye on Sam, his job, or evading the dragon fire that Jin was breathing all around the room.

Lambert’s eyes narrowed. His calculating gaze flashed from Jin to Sam and back again a few times before he sketched a small bow and left the chamber. “I will go down exactly the seven steps of Aset Ka,” he announced over his shoulder. He was kind of stuck on numbers and more than a little obsessive about the freaking vampire god.

The same god who had made a bargain with Bob’s brother Ettore before returning Bob to Sam, and taking Ettore to some kind of hell, or heaven, or whatever.

“Bob needs me,” Sam said, firmly. “I was asleep and heard him calling me. He must be out of mourning.”

“Sam, you have to stop, he isn’t up here.”

“He must be, he called me.” Maybe if Sam said it enough times one of them would listen.

Jin shook his head. “You heard that through your mate link? In your mind. You can’t have because the link is muted when Bob is mourning.”

Sam shook his head, confused. “No, it was like an image of the stairs, and this room, and there was an altar, only it wasn’t this old. It had gold all over it, a chalice in the center, and Bob was examining it, and he called me over, and there was magic….” Sam pressed his hands against his temples, attempting to ease the tension building from that incessant humming. “He needs me.”

“Sam, it was just a dream. You’re tired. Let’s go get some sleep, and we’ll re-examine this in the morning.” Jin took his arm, encouraged him back to the doorway, but Sam wrenched away and shoved Jin to the side, and with a flick of his hand there was a thick wall of ice between them. Sam stood on the side of the altar, and Jin beat on the ice trying to get through.

Bob needed him, and nothing or no one was stopping him. He’d felt Bob’s grief, through their bond, for four long days and then without warning; the bond was severed. He’d been told that had to happen as part of the rituals of mourning.

Sam was lost. Not even his daughter Mal arriving had helped. At that moment, it didn’t matter that she was the light of his life, he wasn’t whole without Bob. There was no family without Bob.

“Watch Mal,” Sam spoke clearly through the ice, which wasn’t giving way, and Jin snarled at him. “Please.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Sam! We’ll go down and find Bob.”

But Sam wasn’t doing anything stupid. He was doing what he should have been doing all along, finding Bob and making sure he was okay. Something had happened, someone had come into the castle, stolen Bob from his mourning and only Sam could help. He turned his back on Jin to face the altar. Something there was calling him. Help me, help me.

Bob’s voice? Or was it softer the closer that Sam got to the altar? A whisper of a voice?

He stepped closer, the hum louder, and then another step, and as he neared the low resonating noise stopped, and for a moment he was motionless.

He reached a hand toward the altar, expecting a barrier, or magic, or some booby-trap that would whisk him to killer spider land or some other awful, horrible place.

A crash behind him had him looking back. Jin was nearly through the barrier, melting the ice as fast as he could with his dragon fire; in seconds he would be through. Sam flicked his hand to create another level of ice, but nothing happened.

“Just when I need magic, it isn’t there,” he murmured.

Something inside him began to hurt, an insistent tug at the base of his neck that ran down his spine then back again. The sensation was weird, moving his feet, guiding him, and he had no control over his own body. He was a marionette, and someone else was pulling the strings.

Fear began to spread in the pit of his stomach, Jin screamed his name and the heat of dragon fire warmed his back, but none of it mattered.

Because his hand touched the altar.

And everything went to hell.

Vampire Wishes by Teegan Loy

“Star light, star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.”

When I opened my eyes, it suddenly occurred to me that my wishes never came true, so what was the point of making one if I was only going to be disappointed. Fifty odd years of wishing made me an expert on failed wishes and broken dreams.

“Happy birthday to me,” I mumbled. I sat up in bed and flattened my palms against the window and stared out at the dark night sky now filled with tiny points of light. “I take it back.”

Someone else could have my stupid wish.

My terrible mood was interrupted when my bedroom door almost flew off its hinges. Even my wish to be left alone tonight wasn’t going to come true. I did my best to glare at Kieran when he walked into my room. He flipped his dirty blond hair away from his blue eyes and frowned at me.

“Are you talking to yourself again, Grif?” Kieran asked.

“No.” I sneered and rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head. “Why are you here, Kieran?”

“Jeesh, I haven’t seen you for a few days and this is how I find you? Moving out on your own was supposed to be a good thing, Grif. If word gets back to Serene that you’re not taking care of yourself, she’ll force you to move back in with Anthony and me. Or worse, with her.”

I shuddered and all my muscles seized. I was not moving back in with Serene. It had taken months and months of whining and begging to get my over-protective mama vamp to let me get my own place.

“I’m fine!”

“Prove it,” Kieran said.

I forced a smile, but he punched me in the thigh. “That’s lame at best. You can do better,” he said. “I’m starving. Let’s go grab a bite or two.” He tugged the blanket from my body, licked his red lips, and flashed his fangs at me.

I grunted. “I’m not hungry right now. Big snack before dawn,” I said and patted my belly. “Maybe tomorrow or the next day.”

Kieran raised his eyebrows and gave me his best disappointed-mother-hen look. “You’re a terrible liar. I can tell it’s been several days since you’ve eaten. Your skin looks dusty and your eyeballs are sinking into your skull.”

“You always know the right words to win a guy over.”

“Give it up little man. I know for a fact you haven’t left the house for three days.”

“Are you spying on me?”

“Nope, I would never do anything like that to you,” Kieran said sweetly. “I had Anthony do it.”

“Oh my God. If I beg, will you leave me alone tonight? Or perhaps some sort of bribe?”

“Bribe? What sort of….”

I fluttered my eyelashes at him, catching him off guard. His eyes glazed over, his mouth went slack, and I knew I could tell him to do anything and he would obey. Unfortunately, I burst out laughing when he started to drool.

His eyes came back into focus, and he stared at me. He dug his fingernails into his arm. My lack of concentration, combined with a little pain, helped snap him out from under my control.

“God dammit, Griffin!” he shouted at me as he slowly slid back into reality. “Stop doing that shit.”

He folded his arms over his chest and huffed, waiting for an apology. But he could wait for an eternity, because I wasn’t about to tell him I was sorry. He needed to take the hint and leave me to my misery.

“Fine.” He stood and sighed loudly. “I’ll just go out in the dark of the night all by myself and find some dinner.”

“Seriously, that’s the best you’ve got? Give me a break. You aren’t exactly the helpless weakling type.”

He growled, flashed his fangs at me again, and walked out of my room. His quick departure made me nervous. It wasn’t like Kieran to give up so easily. He appeared in the door again and I felt relief at his predictability.

“I thought you left.”

“Just so you know, you are one spooky-ass vampire, and I hate when you take over my head. Is it a crime to be worried about you? You’re more bitchy than usual.”

I frowned and let my fangs poke against my lip, drawing a couple drops of blood. It made Kieran lick his lips. He immediately wiped my mouth and pushed my bangs down on my face so my eyes were hidden. I slapped his hand away. “I won’t do it again.”

“Promise?” Kieran whined.

“Yes, Kieran, I promise,” I said, drawing an X over my heart. I kept my fingers crossed. “If you answer a question for me.”

“Is it something weird?” He cocked his head and eyed me. I opened my mouth but he held up his hands. “Forget I asked. All your questions are usually strange, but I will do my best to answer you.”

I clamped my mouth shut and frowned at him. He rolled his eyes.

“Look, Grif, I know it’s your birthday or death day or whatever you want to call it. I know it bugs the shit out of you, for some reason, so just ask the fucking question.”

He sat back down on the edge of my bed and waited.

“Have you ever fucked one?” I asked.

“One what?”

“Uh, a human?”

“Why the hell would I do that? It’s not proper etiquette to play with your food source. Plus I’m so memorable in the sack that not even your fine compulsion skills could make them forget me.”

“Not ever?”

“Nope. I’ve heard gossip of a few vamps hooking up with them, but I’ve never thought about it.”

“And Anthony would probably have your balls for breakfast if you cheated on him,” I added.

“Yeah.” His eyes suddenly widened, and his mouth fell open. “Oh holy hell, are you thinking about being naughty?”

I shook my head. “No. Just forget it.”

He cackled and squeezed my calf. “Grif, live a little. Go out. Get laid or whatever. For once in your life, ignore your conscience and have a good time. Loosen up and use your mad vampire skills to make your wish come true.”

“I don’t have a wish. It was only a question.” Kieran raised his eyebrows. I cringed and buried my face in my pillow. “You heard me, didn’t you?"

“Vampire hearing,” Kieran said. “Plus I’ve heard it so many times, I don’t need to hear the exact words. I know you’re saying it by the inflection of your voice. You say that damn rhyme on every birthday, holiday, and the third Wednesday in the month. Hell, lately, I think you say it every night.”

“I do not,” I said, sounding like a petulant child. “Besides, I was just kidding. I knew you were here the entire time. Ha ha ha, joke’s on you.”

Kieran scowled at me and I knew he could tell I was lying again. I had been saying the rhyme more than usual.

“You have to tell me what you’ve been wishing for. Maybe I can help you. Consider it my birthday gift to you.”

I grimaced. “Can I just promise to go out with you? We can go to that new vamp club. I’ll dance and even pretend to have a good time. You can sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me.”

“That’s great, but you know Serene’s going to ask me about your birthday party. Her interrogations are never fun, especially when she’s worried about you. So give me a good reason to tell her you’re not hiding inside your house, pining for some unknown thing, and just going out to a club isn’t enough.”

“I hate you.”

“I command you to tell me your wish,” he said in a booming voice.

I bit back a laugh, because Kieran hadn’t been able to command me since I changed. “I don’t wish for the same thing all the time.”

“Quit stalling. Tell me the most recent wish.”

“Fuck you. You’ll laugh at me.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.” This time he dramatically crossed his heart.

I sighed because this conversation would go on forever if I didn’t tell him something. He didn’t say it had to be the entire wish. I took a deep breath. “I want to go to college and take a writing class.”

Thirsting for More by Claire Cray

Whiskey and cigarettes.

Gross.

Cal licked his lips and brushed his thumb over the small wounds he’d made in the hipster’s neck, lifting the smear of blood before his own eyes with a faint grimace. There wasn’t much worse than the sour taste of hard liquor. He looked down at the young man lying stripped and breathless below him. “Thought you were a vegan.”

The boy mumbled a dazed nothing, partially opening glazed eyes to peer up at his captor. His slender body was the portrait of submission, the drip from Cal’s fangs having infused his blood with the dazed, desperate lust that made a vampire’s job so much easier.

“Kids today,” Cal muttered, straightening. He sat back on his heels and rolled his neck, ignoring the young man’s moan of dismay. There was still time to go back to the organic grocery store before it closed and grab another. He’d just have to sniff more carefully this time. Damn urban hipsters. They put up a nice, clean front with their natural fiber clothes and local vegetables, but half the time their blood was nastier than anyone’s. In this town all the hot ones seemed to be guzzling whiskey and coffee in between their meals of fresh berries and quinoa or whatever. What a bust.

“Please…” the boy moaned, his slender fingers reaching for Cal’s hips, and he did look very pretty with his dark hair and eyes and his delicate cheekbones. If he wasn’t going to make a good meal, he could still suffice for a quick hump. Cal grasped the boy’s hips and pulled him onto his lap, reaching down to guide his stiff dick between the smooth, pale cheeks. The hipster moaned happily as he was impaled, spreading his thighs as far as they would go.

Cal exhaled, letting his head fall back. Not bad. He didn’t bother warming up, and the steady clap of his chosen pace filled the room as he fucked his inedible prey. The boy came almost instantly anyway. Cal’s orgasm was nothing special. He was still hungry.

Ira was outside.

Cal stopped short as he was leaving the house, staring at the dark, svelte figure smoking under the porch light. The familiar pang of pleasure and dismay went to his gut, but if he wasn’t mistaken, it wasn’t as bad this time. Ira had been gone for months, and Cal had put a lot of effort into not giving a shit. Well. At least not as much of a shit. Anyway, he was sure he’d made some progress.

“You kill him?” Ira said, skipping greetings.

“No,” Cal said.

“Softie. Can I have him?”

“He tastes like shit.”

“Like shit or like shit according to you?” Ira tossed his cigarette into the bushes and crossed the porch. “I’m not as fussy as you are. Come keep me company.”

Cal was starving, but he followed the blue-eyed vampire automatically. Fuck. Okay, so he wasn’t cured yet, but he had made progress, dammit. He was sure. For example, he wasn’t going to ask Ira anything about where he’d been or what he’d been doing. He was gonna play it cool. Totally. His eyes weren’t on board with the plan yet, though, hungrily watching Ira’s body slink and sway as he sauntered through the house ahead of him. Cal’s eyes had missed that walk.

“You certainly have a type,” Ira said boredly as he entered the room where Cal had left the hipster sprawled on his back with his own come gleaming on his taut stomach. Ira reached down and took the boy’s wrist in his hand, lifting it to his mouth. He didn’t bite boys in the neck. Didn’t like to bite them at all, really, but even Ira wasn’t so straight he’d turn down an easy meal for being a little queer.

Cal watched the other vampire dip his dark head to the boy’s wrist, open his mouth wide, and chomp. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, his eyes fluttering closed. He guzzled until the boy’s drowsy writhing slowed and he was still. Ira always took such a rough bite. He once pointed out Cal’s neat punctures as “the gayest thing about you.” Cal secretly took it as a compliment.

He was staring. Ira’s deep blue eyes met his and he dropped the boy’s wrist with a sigh of satisfaction. His lips and teeth were stained and damp with the blood, and Cal wondered how it tasted now. Probably a lot better.

“So?” Ira asked, and cleared the blood with two slow, firm swipes of his tongue. First the top. Then the bottom.

“So, what?”

“So, aren’t you gonna ask me where I’ve been?”

As a matter of fact, Cal wasn’t. He shrugged nonchalantly. Who cared? Not him.

Ira blinked, then frowned. He looked petulant for a moment, then sniffed and shouldered past Cal on his way to the door. “Let’s walk.”

Cal took a moment to congratulate himself before following Ira. Of course the arrogant fuck wasn’t used to this. Cal had always been there, quietly happy to see him, listening to his stories, agreeing to all his suggestions, tolerating his vaguely homophobic attitude, soaking up his presence from the first moment to the very last, every fucking time Ira felt like waltzing back into his life for a bit of easy attention. Not this time!

Ira waited on the porch for Cal to catch up, impatiently holding out his hands as if to ask what the delay was. He lit another cigarette, a habit he’d continued with relish since he’d been turned in 1942. Ira once told him the first thing he’d done when the wild seizure of the transformation finished was reach for his pack of Lucky Strikes. He was smoking with a scowl now, leading Cal away from the house and back toward city center.

“Quiet little town,” Ira said, his lip curled as though the small city smelled like old fish rather than fresh rain and fir trees. “Only you could get away with messing around here. What are you so quiet for?” He kicked a can, sending it rattling down the quiet side street.

“I’m not,” Cal said, surprised. Not compared to usual, really. He studied Ira with a sidelong glance. The vampire seemed bothered. He gave in. “Well, where were you?”

Ira tossed his dark hair from his eyes haughtily and looked sideways at Cal through his long eyelashes. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to bore you.”

Cal felt himself make a face, irritated. Was Ira being more high-maintenance than usual, or was Cal really getting over him? He hoped it was the latter. Seven years was long enough. His entire undead existence so far had been dominated by this hopeless crush, ever since he was just a bewildered, wide-eyed new vampire, changed on a whim by a horny immortal he never saw again, and Ira had inexplicably taken an interest in him. He’d taught Cal the basics, like what their venom did (“a sex slave and a meal all in one”), how bad it sucked to be caught in the sunlight (“you could survive it for about a few hours, probably, but you wouldn’t want to”), and how to deal with bodies (“just leave”). Cal woke up one night to find him gone. He reappeared several months later like nothing had ever happened. It had gone on like that ever since.

“Hey!” Ira said, stopping and grabbing Cal’s shoulder to turn him around. “What’s with you?”

“What’s with you?” Cal asked, exasperated. “I asked where you were. Tell me if you wanna tell me.”

Ira’s berry-pink lips, vivid from the recent meal, worked a soft pout. His heavy-lidded blue eyes moved critically over Cal’s face, and his expression cleared. “I know what it is. You’re hungry.” He clapped Cal’s shoulder. “C’mon. We’ll talk after we get you something to eat.”

Cal blinked. That was unlike Ira. The narcissistic vampire never had any patience for food when he wasn’t hungry. Just like he had no patience for talk if it wasn’t his, and, well, no patience for anything, really, that didn’t contribute directly to his own entertainment.

They came near a basement bar blasting rock music with a congregation of fashionable young people smoking outside. “Wait here,” Ira said, and loped across the street to disappear inside.

Cal watched, baffled. Ira was going to fetch him food? That was beyond bizarre. Not ten minutes later Ira emerged trailing a tall, slender guy with a soft mop of shiny black-brown hair. He had full pink lips and high cheekbones, and he wore all black. He could have been Ira’s brother.

Cal could tell by the slight haze of pleasure and vague confusion in the boy’s eyes that Ira had managed to nip him inside the bar.

“Good?” Ira asked Cal, grinning proudly. “Let’s go back to his place.”

“Huh?” Cal looked around, nodding down the street where there’d be a dark parking lot or alley he could duck into to take his bite. “Nah, let’s just…”

“I wanna be comfortable. C’mon. He lives right here.” Ira nudged the boy, who stumbled slightly and led them just three doors down to the entrance of a narrow brick apartment building.

Cal sighed and followed them up.

“Go take a shower,” Ira said, and the boy went dutifully.

Cal looked at Ira, mystified.

“I need a favor,” the vampire declared, hopping up onto the dresser and lighting up again.

“What?”

“Let me watch.”

K Evan Coles
K. Evan Coles is a mother and tech pirate by day and a writer by night. She is a dreamer who, with a little hard work and a lot of good coffee, coaxes words out of her head and onto paper.

K. lives in the northeast United States, where she complains bitterly about the winters, but truly loves the region and its diverse, tenacious and deceptively compassionate people. You’ll usually find K. nerding out over books, movies and television with friends and family. She’s especially proud to be raising her son as part of a new generation of unabashed geeks.

K.’s books explore LGBTQ+ romance in contemporary settings.

TJ Nichols

TJ Nichols is an avid runner and martial arts enthusiast who first started writing as child. Having grown up reading thrillers and fantasy novels, it’s no surprise that mixing danger and magic comes so easily, writing urban fantasy allows TJ to bring magic to the every day.

After traveling all over the world and Australia, TJ now lives in Perth, Western Australia.

Amber Kell

Amber Kell has made a career out of daydreaming. It has been a lifelong habit she practices diligently as shown by her complete lack of focus on anything not related to her fantasy world building.

Despite her husband's insistence she doesn't drink enough to be a true literary genius, she continues to spin stories of people falling happily in love and staying that way.

She is thwarted during the day by a traffic jam of cats on the stairway and a puppy who insists on walks, but she bravely perseveres.

RJ Scott

Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards

USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.

She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.

Teegan Loy

When she's not writing, Teegan Loy can be found driving around the country, watching her daughter compete in tennis tournaments.

She's a huge hockey fan, loves having coffee with friends, and enjoys creating junk journals and scrapbooks. Occasionally, Teegan attends concerts of her favorite bands.

Always on the go, she is able to gather countless ideas for new stories. Life is best lived through experiences.

Claire Cray

Claire Cray writes M/M Romance featuring hot, complicated men in weird situations. Offbeat and character-driven with a Gothic bent, her work is often described as atmospheric and a little strange.

Born and raised in the rural Pacific Northwest, Claire takes inspiration from its wild, moody vibes. Her stories often combine vivid natural settings with steamy sensuality and psychological drama.

Claire lives, writes, and independently publishes in Portland, Oregon, USA.