Strictly Gothic by Lily Silver

Author:Lily Silver
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gothic Romance, Vampire Romance, Paranormal Romance, romantic suspense, contemporary romance, Halloween Romance, vampire hero, Gothic Photographer, supernatural romance, Haunted Love
Publisher: Lily Silver
Published: 2019-10-08T00:00:00+00:00

AFTER ISSUING HER CHALLENGE, Serena waited.

She expected him to laugh or to recant on his assertion, say it was all a joke.

She’d seen the vampire movies and TV shows. She knew the whole spiel. She wasn’t ready to play a frightened, angsty Bella to Simon’s Brooding Edward.

The jukebox kept playing around them. She recognized the song and groaned inwardly.

Bad Moon Rising.

Simon held her gaze but said nothing at all. Dead silence.

The music faded into the background as she heard his voice. In her head.

I have been following you for weeks, Serena Cole. Surely you recognize me from the photos you shot at the cemeteries. Surely your soul recognizes mine.

She swallowed what little spit she had left in her mouth, her eyes widening. The sound of his voice in her mind, but not perceptible by her ears was bizarre and somewhat scary.

His hand reached across the table to cover hers. She could feel the warmth of his skin. She quickly pulled her hand away, shocked by the sensation.

Vampires weren’t warm. Their flesh was supposed to be deathly cold.

Oh, but that was the fictional version if vampires.

“Serena,” Simon said her name aloud, a low whisper that resembled a caress.

“Your skin isn’t cold,” she said with accusation.

“I have fed recently.”

“Anyone I know?” She tried to sound sarcastic, to laugh at the absurdity. It wasn’t working. She sounded pathetic and scared. “Italian, French or Creole?”

“Type O negative. A blood donation, given by a willing friend.”

Ok, this was getting really weird, really fast. Serena turned to look behind her, at the men gathered at the bar. The barkeep nodded and smiled at her, and then filled a mug from the tap for another patron. A willing friend?

The possibilities seemed endless. She was the stranger here, not Simon. She wouldn’t know who happened to be a willing donor or who wasn’t. Where was Deputy Malone when you needed him?

She rubbed her brow, surprised at the turn of her thoughts. She was starting to think like she believed Simon, like she’d drunk the vampire Kool-Aid. She’d wanted to see him again after this afternoon, had needed to, for some inexplicable reason. Now she was here, having a drink with this incredibly gorgeous man, and it was all going south fast!

I am a vampire, yeah, right.

Next, she’d be on the evening news as the latest victim of a sick sociopath.

And yet, as she turned her gaze back to Simon Delacroix, all her doubt about his words fled. She looked into his eyes, and she knew, just knew, that he was telling her the truth—at least the truth as he understood it—be it real or fantasy.

She wasn’t about to let on to that fact. She’d be a fool if she just went along with his claim. “So, as I said, prove to me that you are what you claim, a real vampire.”

“Would you care to step outside, Mademoiselle?”

“No. I prefer the protection of a crowd.”

He rolled his beautiful blue eyes to the ceiling. “As you wish,” he quipped, and gestured for the barkeep.

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