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

by D.N. Bryn

At least politely depressed vampires weren’t also a stereotype.

He swallowed. Again. “You have blood on that hand.” Wesley pulled the arm back. “Oh shit, is that a vampire faux pas or something?”

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

I’ll have you know that I’m happy to get my blood sucked by vampires of any gender.

This had all been a mistake: the dinner, Vincent, his existence, queerness as a general concept.

“You know what you did when you were starving?” he whispered. “I want you to bite me like that.”

“I get that. Well, not exactly like that but the needing to feel alive because if you stop, for even a moment, then there’s space for everything else to crash in, so you have to keep going, keep smiling, keep throwing yourself forward at top speed because when you don’t you end up sitting naked in the shower hyperventilating into oblivion? I get that.”

I’m a man-slaughterer, not a murderer.” “Which is why you tossed the murder weapon into the creek?” “Man-slaughterer weapon.”