Read Online Dream Vampire by Lauren J. Hunter - Free Book Online
Authors: Lauren J. Hunter
Tags: Vampires
Ads: Link
Dream Vampire
“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk home with you? I’m happy to do it. I know how you feel about New Year’s Eve, Alana. There’s no reason for you to force yourself to be such a tough cookie all the time.”
Alana eyed her friend, grateful for her understanding. She watched as Vivian stood in the soft circle of illumination cast by the streetlight and fussed with the temperamental lock on the door of the metaphysical bookstore and gift shop the two women co-owned. The shop had hosted its annual psychic faire and costume party, and both owners were pleasantly exhausted.
“That’s sweet, Viv, but it’s only a few blocks. I’ll be fine. It’s time for me to face my fears and to let go of the past. And, besides, I am a tough cookie!”
Vivian laughed and wrapped her arms around Alana, giving her a motherly hug. She took a step back, rested her hands gently on the younger woman’s shoulders, and looked into her eyes.
“Well, promise me you won’t stay home on your days off. Get out and meet some men. Have some fun. Hell, have some sex! You’re young and beautiful. You used to be quite a wild woman, if I recall. Any man would be lucky to have you. A heart can only grieve for so long.”
Alana smiled. “What would I do without you, my friend? If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have fallen apart when Stephen was killed. You were my lifeline. And you’re right. It’s time. I promise I won’t hide in my apartment.”
“Well, if you do hide in your apartment, I expect you to be working on another one of those sizzling vampire romance books you used to write. I’ve missed those libido-rocking tales.”
They both laughed.
“Yeah,” Alana grinned, “like your libido needs any help. Go on, now. That delicious man of yours is waiting to pounce on your voluptuous body when you get home. Give Andrew a kiss for me. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Talking about her husband always made Vivian smile wide, and right on cue the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Yes, all right, I’m going. Bye!” She waved over her shoulder.
Alana listened to the staccato click-clack of Vivian’s heels on the sidewalk as her friend hurried up the street toward home. As the sound diminished, she stood for a moment, relishing the silence, before turning in the other direction. The recent Solstice—the ancient celebration of the longest night—had tiptoed in, turning the wheel of the year without any of its usual blustery fanfare. Shop customers had complained about the lack of snow for the holidays, but Alana hadn’t noticed. Just getting through the last few weeks had taken all her energy. The smell of winter was in the air—the earthy fragrance of decaying leaves and wood smoke from someone’s fireplace. The full moon imbued everything with a surreal shine.
The sound of her solitary footsteps echoing down the empty street made Alana feel sad. Vivian was right. There had to be an end to grieving. Didn’t there? Was four years long enough? Was any time ever long enough?
It was hard for her to imagine writing another romance story. It used to be so easy, because she knew exactly what it felt like to be that much in love. She smiled as she remembered writing steamy sex scenes, and trying them out on Stephen. He was always an eager participant. But those days were gone. She didn’t know what to do about her loneliness. It was a constant companion. She was almost afraid to write those erotic scenes she used to enjoy so much. What would she do with all the desire she aroused in herself? It wasn’t the physical release—she could take care of that. It was the emotional need. She pulled her long, black velvet cloak tighter around herself. The night was clear and cold; she could see her breath.
The shop and her apartment building were in two different parts of Old Towne. She’d chosen the location of the building purposefully because it was surrounded by historical, gothic-inspired homes and a wickedly
“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk home with you? I’m happy to do it. I know how you feel about New Year’s Eve, Alana. There’s no reason for you to force yourself to be such a tough cookie all the time.”
Alana eyed her friend, grateful for her understanding. She watched as Vivian stood in the soft circle of illumination cast by the streetlight and fussed with the temperamental lock on the door of the metaphysical bookstore and gift shop the two women co-owned. The shop had hosted its annual psychic faire and costume party, and both owners were pleasantly exhausted.
“That’s sweet, Viv, but it’s only a few blocks. I’ll be fine. It’s time for me to face my fears and to let go of the past. And, besides, I am a tough cookie!”
Vivian laughed and wrapped her arms around Alana, giving her a motherly hug. She took a step back, rested her hands gently on the younger woman’s shoulders, and looked into her eyes.
“Well, promise me you won’t stay home on your days off. Get out and meet some men. Have some fun. Hell, have some sex! You’re young and beautiful. You used to be quite a wild woman, if I recall. Any man would be lucky to have you. A heart can only grieve for so long.”
Alana smiled. “What would I do without you, my friend? If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have fallen apart when Stephen was killed. You were my lifeline. And you’re right. It’s time. I promise I won’t hide in my apartment.”
“Well, if you do hide in your apartment, I expect you to be working on another one of those sizzling vampire romance books you used to write. I’ve missed those libido-rocking tales.”
They both laughed.
“Yeah,” Alana grinned, “like your libido needs any help. Go on, now. That delicious man of yours is waiting to pounce on your voluptuous body when you get home. Give Andrew a kiss for me. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Talking about her husband always made Vivian smile wide, and right on cue the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Yes, all right, I’m going. Bye!” She waved over her shoulder.
Alana listened to the staccato click-clack of Vivian’s heels on the sidewalk as her friend hurried up the street toward home. As the sound diminished, she stood for a moment, relishing the silence, before turning in the other direction. The recent Solstice—the ancient celebration of the longest night—had tiptoed in, turning the wheel of the year without any of its usual blustery fanfare. Shop customers had complained about the lack of snow for the holidays, but Alana hadn’t noticed. Just getting through the last few weeks had taken all her energy. The smell of winter was in the air—the earthy fragrance of decaying leaves and wood smoke from someone’s fireplace. The full moon imbued everything with a surreal shine.
The sound of her solitary footsteps echoing down the empty street made Alana feel sad. Vivian was right. There had to be an end to grieving. Didn’t there? Was four years long enough? Was any time ever long enough?
It was hard for her to imagine writing another romance story. It used to be so easy, because she knew exactly what it felt like to be that much in love. She smiled as she remembered writing steamy sex scenes, and trying them out on Stephen. He was always an eager participant. But those days were gone. She didn’t know what to do about her loneliness. It was a constant companion. She was almost afraid to write those erotic scenes she used to enjoy so much. What would she do with all the desire she aroused in herself? It wasn’t the physical release—she could take care of that. It was the emotional need. She pulled her long, black velvet cloak tighter around herself. The night was clear and cold; she could see her breath.
The shop and her apartment building were in two different parts of Old Towne. She’d chosen the location of the building purposefully because it was surrounded by historical, gothic-inspired homes and a wickedly
Similar Books
