How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager (Guides for Dating Vampires, #1)

by D.N. Bryn

So that left home invasion: the vampiric equivalent of that old game show with the doors. What’s behind door number one? An empty bed, or an elderly lady wearing three bottles of perfume, or an angry naked fireman with an ax? Vincent hadn’t realized it was possible to have horny nightmares, but after the fireman encounter he didn’t sleep through the day for a month.

Was it a good thing to have your breathlessly handsome, less-than-consensual snack turn around and offer his neck to you while also telling you he’d thought you were a weird, lonely vampire even before you became a weird, lonely vampire?

That was what dreams were for—getting you horny in circumstances that made your waking self reevaluate your sanity.

Vincent was just—he was so—damn him, he was a perfect mix of adorable and dangerous and sexy, and Wesley was already emotionally three inches inside the vampire and wanted very much to be physically three inches inside him too.

“Yeah, I’m bi.” With the serious nod of an assassin about to commit to a murder, Vincent said, “Hi bi, I’m gay.”

I’m kind of pathetic, as vampires go. I don’t make for a dramatic, mysterious predator. I’m like the grimy sewer variety of a vampire that you shoo off your lawn with a broom.”

“I am happy. Except when I’m not. And then I kind of want to kill something or else die a little bit. Not in the big S way, just like, I don’t want to be here for a while.”