The Vampire in the Bookstore

by Elle M. Drew

Books. He would never tire of the scent of books.

There could never be too many books,

He needed to know if the ink and parchment had seeped into her blood, her love of books something he could taste.

Why was she flustered? Was he next going to ask how many bookshelves she had, and how full they were? Was she turned on by this? Wait, of course, she was.

She was a bookworm. A book hoarder. A book dragon. A library troll. She was a bibliophile.

His queen. He could gift her every book in his possession, could build and expand his shelves,

He had his books. His collections. His libraries.

He would have all of her, freely, with knowledge, or he would have none of her.

The woman in her was pressing her thighs together, trying to remind herself that showing off his library was not a form of foreplay...

you can tell a lot about a person by their bookshelf and their book collection, and what I can see here is a love of literature and knowledge, and preservation, and art, and it’s something I’ve never found matched in another person, ever.

If he was about to propose marriage, she was going to demand the library as his wedding gift.