My Sweet Vampire by Arabella Holmes

Author:Arabella Holmes [Holmes, Arabella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance
Publisher: Little Willow Publishing
Published: 2020-11-28T16:00:00+00:00

However, the hairs on my neck stand up when I come to bullet point number four:

Crossing the threshold. My eyes widen as I read the first few paragraphs. ‘Evil cannot enter a man's home unless it is invited. Such myths apply to vampyres. Romanian folklore states that a vampyre cannot enter a person’s house unless expressly invited by the occupant.’

My mind races back to the first time Nick came to my house. He’d acted so strangely, refusing to come in until I’d formally invited him. At the time, it hadn’t made much sense, but now …

I pound my knuckles against my head. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

What the hell am I doing? I shouldn’t be wasting my energy on this crap. The only thing I should be focusing on is my father. He’s the one who needs me. Reading all this Hocus Pocus will only make me more paranoid and the last thing I want is to lose the plot completely.

In despair, I switch off my laptop and pad over to the dresser. Opening the top drawer, I pull out a pack of Marlboros; I almost tear the box to shreds trying to get them open. With shaky fingers, I light one and take a few shallow puffs, closing my eyes as the nicotine whips through my system. I take another puff and realise that I don’t feel bad at all; in fact, I feel exhilarated. In my head, I can hear Nick’s voice telling me not to, but I manage to blot it out. This is one battle he won’t win.

“Your treatment doesn’t work, Nick!” I shout at the ceiling. “Look, I’m smoking again. Ha, ha! You hear that? You’re not in my head anymore and I can do whatever I want.” I pause and take another drag. Laughing maniacally, I raise the cigarette in the air and wave it around like a royal scepter. I’m on an imaginary stage, performing for an imaginary audience. “Yes Nick, your hypnosis was a flop and I want all of my money back. I’m going to tell everybody you’re a fake and a fraud and your treatment doesn’t work. I’m smoking again and you know what? It feels fucking great.”

Taking a final drag, I stub the butt out and roll onto the bed, my body weak with exhaustion. I feel completely drained and detached from everything, like this is happening to someone else and not me. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out cold.

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