About the Book
Publisher: Prescourt Books
Length: 104 Pages
Category: Holiday, Paranormal
Release Date: 15 November 2016
Blurb: Silent night, holy hell.
Thaddeus and Sarasija are spending the holidays on the bayou, and while the vampire’s idea of Christmas cheer doesn’t quite match his assistant’s, they’re working on a compromise. Before they can get the tree trimmed, they’re interrupted by the appearance of the feu follet. The ghostly lights appear in the swamp at random and lead even the locals astray.
When the townsfolk link the phenomenon to the return of their most reclusive neighbor, suspicion falls on Thaddeus. These lights aren’t bringing glad tidings, and if Thad and Sara can’t find their source, the feu follet might herald a holiday tragedy for the whole town.
This holiday novella can be enjoyed alone or as book 1.5 of the Hours of the Night Series. Bonfire takes place the December after the events in Vespers.
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Sara lay in the circle of Thad’s arms and stared into darkness. The one window in the room had been boarded over. Despite the fact he knew the sun was well over the horizon outside, it was ever night in this room.
Cuddling was good, he reminded himself. Sleeping the night, the day, together was good, and something he had argued for. And Thad wouldn’t notice or mind if he wanted to turn on a lamp or get a nightlight.
He didn’t want a lamp or nightlight. He was horny. He wanted a freakin’ orgasm like he would have gotten with any other lover. He never had trouble going to sleep in the daytime after they made love.
He wiggled around onto his back. Masturbating wouldn’t disturb the man next to him, but it felt weird. He had tried it before, but lying next to your sleeping vampire boyfriend’s nonresponsive body and jerking off was plain awkward. Going downstairs to what was, technically, still his bedroom was somehow worse. Lonely and sad. He didn’t want just the orgasm. He wanted intimacy with the guy he was pretty sure he was in love with. The guy who still skyped a priest to confess after every time they made love.
Not that Sara was shy about what they did. He had offered to give good ol’ Father Pat a nice play-by-play since bringing the issue up bothered Thad so much. It was the principle of the thing. The idea that Thaddeus still considered their relationship a sin, something to confess and be absolved of.
He turned his head into Thad’s chest, breathed in the scent of cypress, and touched his lips to cool skin. Cool, but not too cool. Not yet. Too cool meant he would be forced to feed. Sating one hunger would lead to another, and Sara wouldn’t be going to bed horny and frustrated.
He wiggled sideways again, trying not to disturb the arm over him. Vampires didn’t die during the day, but Thaddeus wouldn’t notice he and Sara were no longer spooned and reposition either. He pressed his back into the body behind him and hugged Thad’s arm in close, trying to pretend it was Thad tightening his arm around him. He should go to sleep. Sometimes when they slept, they shared dreams, and Thad was rarely as repressed then. Or maybe they were only his dreams. Sara hadn’t gotten brave enough to ask Thad.
The dreams weren’t the only issue he had turned into a chickenshit over. He and Thad had never actually discussed why the vampire’s powers worked differently around Sara than everyone else or the fact that Sara sometimes knew what Thad was feeling without being told. He sometimes felt what Thad was feeling. Nor had they discussed Sara’s contract or what would happen when it ended next summer. The only thing Sara knew was there had better not be another one-year assistant hired on to replace him. Shit. He was never going to go sleep like this. He should get up and do something useful.
He slipped out of bed, pulled on some sweats, and headed downstairs, where he had left his laptop. Christmas was only two weeks away. Should he finish his Christmas shopping? Or google insomnia? Maybe something mindless. YouTube vids until his eyes blurred might do the trick. And hot chocolate. He had a vague idea that warm beverages were supposed to help you sleep. And chocolate made you feel loved, which he could use right now.
Halfway across the kitchen, a movement out the window caught his eye. He leaned over the sink and scanned the yard. Probably nothing. Or an animal. They had tons of wildlife, and he wasn’t normally up at this time of day to notice anything trekking across the property. The place could be the regular morning grazing grounds for a herd of elephants for all he knew.
It wasn’t an animal that stumbled out of the trees, though. The man, covered in mud and scratches, stopped and blinked when he stepped out of the shadows. He swayed slightly, then headed straight toward the house.
Sara took a step back, heart pounding. Demon.
About the Authors
Irene Preston has to write romances, after all she is living one. As a starving college student, she met her dream man who whisked her away on a romantic honeymoon across Europe. Today they live in the beautiful hill country outside of Austin, Texas where Dream Man is still working hard to make sure she never has to take off her rose-colored glasses.
About Liv Rancourt: I write romance: m/f, m/m, and v/h, where the h is for human and the v is for vampire … or sometimes demon … I lean more towards funny than angst. When I’m not writing I take care of tiny premature babies or teenagers, depending on whether I’m at home or at work. My husband is a soul of patience, my dog’s cuteness is legendary, and we share the homestead with three ferrets. Who steal things. Because they’re brats.