Blood of the Maple
Maggie's Grove - 1
Dana Marie Bell
To Mom, who makes a face every time she sees me eat sashimi, but encourages me to bring it to our family dinners anyway. Someday I’ll get you to try it, and you’ll see what the big deal is. Of course, we might have to raid Dad’s homemade wine first.
To Dad, who suggested I send some homemade wine to my mother-in-law because he noticed how much she loved it when she came to visit. I’m awarding plenty of brownie points for that, even though I’m taking a lot away. P.S.: The “old fart” remote control car the boys had
Finally, to Dusty, who
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“You know, my friend told me you were a witch, but I didn’t know he meant it literally.”
Parker clutched the bars of his cage and stared at the hippie chick he’d shagged a few nights before. Damn, she’d been a sweet piece too, tasty on the inside
Too bad she’d taken exception to his dalliance with the daisy-crowned flower child. He’d been caught with his fangs down, and now the witch was going to exact some freaky revenge. From the way her huge cauldron bubbled, he wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to boil him alive.
“I worked pretty hard to get you into my bed.”
Parker blinked, unsure if he should be flattered or terrified.
Never mind. He knew—terrified. She stirred the mess in the cauldron, and it was all he could do not to scream like a girl.
“Mm-hmm.” She tossed something into the bubbling goo. The stench was foul beyond comprehension. What the hell had she put in there? And was it going to touch any part of him? There wasn’t enough tomato juice in the world to get
“I’m flattered.” He remembered first catching sight of her dancing around a bonfire during one of the numerous parties his friends had thrown. She’d looked utterly edible. “I remember you dancing.”
She smiled like he’d handed her a gilded rose. “Yes!” She drifted by, her voice dreamy, her expression serene. “I called you to me. You couldn’t resist my allure.”
Parker’s ears were ringing. Damn, she could
“I let you into my temple, and you desecrated it!”
She pointed her white-handled knife at him. “You cheated on me.”
“You have to be in a relationship to cheat. All we did was party together. Horizontally.”
She sniffled, tears forming in her eyes. “I thought I meant something to you.”
The eager grin she was suddenly sporting scared the bejesus out of him. “Yes. And to make sure it
“Don’t worry, my love. You’ll never need to feed off anyone else again.”
“You know?” When he’d thought about being caught with his fangs down, he hadn’t meant it
He’d done everything he was supposed to. The feeding should have been a vague memory of a sharp nip; the only physical reminder, a tiny hickey.
Greg could have warned him. If her lack of memory loss was due to her being a
Oh wait. Greg
“That you’re a Nosferatu?” She turned back to the cauldron. The smell coming from it was truly vile.
He winced. “I prefer
There was that smile that had led him to her bed, the one that promised all sorts of forbidden delights. “Of course. I’ll remember that.”
“Thanks.” He gave his attention once more to the iron bars of his cage. He twisted and pulled, bending them, but not nearly enough.
“Nothing much. I’m going to change your diet.”
He froze. What she was suggesting was impossible. “What?”