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To my readers. I know you’re all a little bit psycho. Embrace your monster.
What person would respect a monster that sounds like a bat giving anal? Note to self: don’t ever fucking growl. Actually, don’t even speak. Speaking and growling are off limits. From now on, I am a nun...of silence.
I take one last helpless glance at my cute canopy bed, the severed head on my dresser (because everyone has one), and the spiderwebs on the wall. I named the little guy Peanut. The spider, not the head. The head’s name is Bob.
Because how do I explain to someone that I sliced their dick in half?
She was ethereal—plucked straight from a stained-glass window. She could be an angel sent from Heaven itself.
No talk of Big Foot’s dick is allowed in this conversation.
I’m about to murder my nemesis, and I’m sporting a raging boner. Am I really that kinky?
It smells like...home. I can’t stop my body’s visceral reaction. It’s something carnal, primal, within me. I can’t quite understand it, but I know I want to jump the distance between us and kiss the everloving fuck out of—
She’s everything I never knew I wanted, a vision of elegance and grace. Right as I think that, she trips over a rock and faceplants on the ground.
This girl—this blonde-haired, dewy face girl—is my mate. And if her close proximity to Dracula is any indication, she’s his daughter. As a wise man once told me, “Fuck me sideways, backwards, and everywhere in between.”
Sadly, there’s no severed hands available for the lady.
“Why the fuck did you feed me an eraser?” she asks in disbelief. She scrubs at her tongue, eyes crossing. “An. Eraser?” I say each word separately, succinctly, tasting them on my tongue the same way she had just tasted the apparent eraser. “Is that not a food source?” “No!” she groans, her tongue sneaking out to lick her lips. “Erasers are not food.”
“Thank you,” I say, emotion clogging my airway. “I’ll treasure it always.” I hold the diminutive piece of “chocolate” to my chest, over my heart. I know I will die for this gift. No one will take what’s mine, not even Jack.
I won’t forget. Not her. Not the pretty monster who gave me my first gift. My gift…
“Huh. So you didn’t plan to murder me and hide my body,” I murmur, eyeing Cynthia in a new light. Is this the start of a beautiful friendship?
Note to self: don’t ever, not ever, trust a man. Instead, cut up their bodies and bathe in their blood.
A vampire. And my mate. I know that as surely as I know my name is Mason and I’m the son of Medusa.
Everything about her calls to me in a way I didn’t think was possible. I can feel her, sense her, deep in the abyss of my tattered soul. Just seeing her mends something within me, something I can’t articulate into words. My mate.
Van Helsing or not, best friend or not, I will not hesitate to kill him if he tries to harm my mate. My loyalty has changed in the last five minutes. She doesn’t know it yet—she doesn’t know me yet—but I have just become hers unconditionally. At the same time, Violet is mine, and I’ll always protect my own. After all, how can we be monsters if we’re not selfish assholes?
Boys are weird. Monster boys? Even weirder.
Oh shit, she’s talking to me. Say something normal, Violet. For the love of Dracula, say something fucking normal. “I gave your brother an orgasm,” I blurt. There you have it, folks. The reason why I have no friends. Fucking shit, brain. You had one job to do, and it was not that.
Nobody ever stood up for him before? Well, if I have my choice, that’ll change. I’ll be the protector, the champion, he never had.
Listen up ladies and gentlemen. Don’t ever, not ever, allow a guy or girl to treat you like Vin did me. You’re not trash, and the minute someone starts treating you like it, carve out his heart and eat it. This concludes my public service announcement. Suck dicks. Don’t be one.
Vin places his hands on my shoulders to steady me. “You okay? I saw—” Before he can finish whatever he’s going to say, I lift my leg and knee him in the balls. Motherfucker shouldn't have messed with a monster.
I focus on Violet who is currently sitting on Vin and...tickling him? Yup. My little monster is using the borrowed arm to tickle Vin’s side, and Vin—the epitome of cool and collected usually—is laughing hysterically, attempting to bat her away. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
He half-heartedly swats her away, but I know he’ll never truly hurt her. How I know that is a mystery, but I know in my heart that Vin will do everything in his power to protect the scary beauty. Violet.
Frick, I think, and Hux’s answering chuckle reverberates through my head. Still not using swear words, I see? he notes with veiled amusement. My cheeks flame, and I turn towards the wall to hide my reaction from the others. I’ve missed you, brother, I admit. The truth of that statement surprises even me. It’s hard to miss someone you never truly met.
She’s glorious, Hux praises, tone awed. I can’t help but agree with him. Perfect, I agree. Because, really, what sane monster would take on a Van Helsing...and win? Only someone like Violet Dracula. Perfect for us, Hux states.
She’s ours, Hux says darkly, and I can hear the conviction in those two words. The need. For the first time ever, I agree with my brother.
How did this become my life? Beating a boy with a severed, grizzly monster hand. Planning murder of the painful variety. My new best friend threatening to kill me.
I just want to hear him talk again in that sexy-as-fuck Romanian accent. I can listen to him talk all day. I’m pretty sure he could call me a toilet-plunging cockroach and I would still swoon.
“My favorite is when we play games,” Vin adds, eager to implement himself into the conversation. He trails behind us like a besotted puppy. “Sometimes we play an epic game of Capture the Flag or Tag.” When I don’t respond, staring purposefully ahead, Mason clears his throat and repeats, “My favorite is when we play games. Sometimes we play an epic game of Capture the Flag or Tag.” I smile at him brightly. “That actually sounds like a lot of fun. I love games...but I can’t say I’m excited to get my ass whooped.” Vin groans. “Are you fucking kidding me? Real fucking mature, Violet.”
I love that she’s completely ignoring him 🤣🤣 and mason had to repeat it for vin so she would respond
Both Mason and the wind chuckle.
She’s calling Vin, the wind 🤣🤣😭
“Okay, buddy. Okay.” Mason slaps him on the back, and Frankie winces, brushing his hand away. “And it has nothing to do with a cute girl’s attendance?” “Cute girl?” I snap, white hot jealousy surging through me. Who the fuck is Mason talking about? Who does Frankie think of as cute? And why am I acting like this? “Who’s the cute girl? Let me at her, and I’ll show her just how cute she is. I wonder how ‘cute’ she’ll be with my fingers in her eye sockets and her eyeballs in her ass.” Mason attempts to put his arm around me, but I shove it off. “Violet,” Jack whispers, and I turn to the only guy
...more
“Sometimes you just need to tell my hormones to tone it down a notch,” I tell Mason seriously who sputters and widens his eyes. “They’re everywhere. Just look them in the eye, and tell them to calm the fuck down.” “Your hormones,” Mason confirms slowly. I nod. “You make my hormones your bitch.”
I’m pretty sure Mason has an interest in me, and Jack, of course, is my new best friend. Frankie seems to tolerate me (which apparently is a pretty big deal), and the wind defended my honor by punching the whistler. And I can’t forget Hux who treasured my chocolate.
“Hello,” I say, licking my lips. His eyes fixate on that minuscule movement with fascination. “Hello, precious treasure,”
“You dare threaten my precious treasure?” Hux asks, taking a threatening step forward. As much as I find his despotic, kick-ass attitude attractive, I don’t want him fighting my battles. And I especially don’t want him getting in trouble because of me. “Tone it down there, Tarzan,” I say, placing my hand on his chest to push him back. “He’s my teacher. He’s not actually going to harm me.”
“What’s the Roaring?” I ask the person closest to me...which just so happens to be the wind. Fucking dammit.
“Now, as I was saying, you’ll be separated into teams of four—” Hux makes a rumbling sound deep in his throat, and Mummy whips his head to face the dark-haired monster. “Umm...three?” Mummy tries, and Hux’s growl intensifies. He’s scaring me. And also turning me on. But then again, I’m a kinky bitch. “Five?” Mummy questions, and Hux nods his head. Clearing his throat, Mummy attempts to gain control of the situation he already lost. “Okay, I’ll pick the teams—” Another growl echoes from my scary friend. “You’ll pick the teams,” Mummy concedes with a sigh.
“Is something wrong with my precious treasure?” Hux roars—damn, someone needs to tone it down a notch. Just kidding. I—and my vagina—love it.
“He’s my friend. Don’t talk about him like that.” “Oh, so now you’re talking to me,” he snaps, his face inches from mine. His breath caresses my face; his nose is nearly touching my own. “And I already regret it.” “Don’t fucking be like this.” His tone turns pleading, desperate. “I let you beat me with a fucking arm. What more do you want from me?” “An apology would be sufficient,” I say.
“Do you know what you do to me?” the wind asks me, stepping even closer. I can see fireworks of brown in his eyes. “Irritate you?” I guess. His lips quirk. “Among other things, yes.”
I’ve dealt with my fair share of monsters. My entire job is dependent on forging these connections and evoking trust in my clients. But never, in all of my history, have I met someone like Violet.
She’s going to burn me, of that I have no doubt, but I’m going to welcome the pain.
Rhonda 🌒🌕🌘 🐈⬛ and 3 other people liked this
Violet has now taken to...to somersaulting? Why the fuck is that girl somersaulting on the forest floor?
Rhonda 🌒🌕🌘 🐈⬛ and 3 other people liked this
You’ve heard of stain-be-gone? Let me introduce you to the new and improved version: body-be-gone.
Kelly (The Happiest Little Book Club) and 4 other people liked this
