Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“I’m not leaving you here,” she yells through the door.
“Witch. Witch. Witch.” The cries are closer as they turn the corner.
“Run,” I scream. “Run while you can.”
I hear her panicked footsteps, and I peer through the curtains to see her just make it across the field and into the forest before they come around the corner.
I run to the back door and out into the field. “There she is,” they scream.
And I run.
I run as hard and as fast as I can.
Hands grab my hair and pull me back. I struggle. I fight. I scream and kick.
They capture me anyway.
Hours later, bruised and battered, fear is running through my blood like a wildfire.
Like a prized possession, the townspeople gather around for the show. I stand with my hands tied behind my back within a giant pile of wood.
Tonight, I will be burned at the stake.
Dirty, bloodied, and broken, I don’t have any fight left in me.
“What kind of fucking book is this?” Henley snaps. “I don’t want to read depressing shit.”
“Who wrote this?” Antony frowns. “This story does not go with daddy kink.”
Fascinated, we read on.
The guard holds up the torch of fire, and I close my eyes in preparation.
I always knew they’d come; the writing was written on the wall. They killed my grandmother and great-aunt before me.
Both had the curse.
Tainted with the same brush as I.
The wind picks up. Dirt flies through the village, a mini tornado that begins to tear apart everything in its path. The skies go black as people scream; the thatching flies from a nearby roof.
I look around at the destruction. What the hell is happening?
Then among the chaos, I see him.
Walking toward me in slow motion, his dark eyes hold mine. Standing at over six foot five with black hair and olive skin, his jaw is square. His body is large, but it’s his presence that overwhelms me.
A darkness that can be felt from afar.
The crowd sees him and begins to scream as they run, scattering in all directions.
No . . . it can’t be.
My heart begins to race as fear runs through me.
I’ve heard whispers, of course, but I never knew if they were true.
He holds his hand up in a silent command, and the ropes that tie my hands fall to the ground.
Dear god.
No.
Please, no. I would rather be burned at the stake.
It’s Lazarus.
The most powerful vampire on earth.
And he’s here . . . for me.
“What the fuck?” I whisper, wide eyed. “Vampire porn.” I scroll down the page in a panic. “Where’s the rest of it?” I keep scrolling.
“Oh, get fucked.” Henley pushes me out of the way and begins to use the mouse to scroll down. “What does he do?”
“I don’t know.” I snatch the mouse back.
“Please tell me he rails her.” Antony hovers over my shoulder, peering at the computer screen.
“Well, obviously . . . he must.”
“You reckon he’s got two cocks?” Ant asks.
“Hopefully.”
“Henley,” Juliet’s voice calls as she comes through the front door. “Where are you guys?”
I immediately flick the computer off, and we all stare at each other, rattled but intrigued, just wanting to read on.
Juliet walks into my office. “Hi.” She smiles all casually.
“Hi, Jules.”
“What are you guys doing?” She looks between us.
“Wedding stuff,” Henley lies.
“Oh, you guys are writing speeches?” she says hopefully.
Henley’s eyes flick to me, and I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile. “Something like that.”
Rebecca
OVERNIGHT MIRACLE SERUM
I read the label before I dip my finger into the jar and rub some onto my face. I’m freshly showered with a towel around my head. I’m in my pajamas and feeling very sorry for myself.
No sales. Not even one.
I mean, I don’t know what I expected, but the way Blake talked about it made it sound like it was easy.
Maybe my feet looked dry and old . . . hmm.
I put my foot up onto my bathroom cabinet and rub in the overnight miracle serum. Then I rub it into the other one too.
I check my phone again.
Sales: 0
Ugh.
This stupid fucking Foot Finder dashboard . . . is it even working?
I hear a knock, knock from downstairs.
Blake.
I bounce down the steps to see him standing at my front door, and I open it in a rush. “Hello.” He bows his head as he walks past me into my house.
“Hello, Dr. Grayson.” I slam the door closed. “You didn’t text me back today.”
“I was busy.” He looks around. “Where are your bookshelves?”
“In the hall.”
“I want to read a book; can I borrow one of yours?” He walks out into the hallway into my kitchen and begins to run his finger over the spines of my books on the shelf as he goes through them.
“I don’t think I have anything you’d like.” I cross my arms as I lean up against the wall. “We didn’t sell one picture today.”