Forever Magnolia

by Dyan Chick

  Forever Magnolia

  Vampire Brides

  Dyan Chick

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events in this book are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Illaria Publishing LLC

  Copyright © 2019 by Dyan Chick

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  The Midnight Coven Presents …

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  The Midnight Coven

  Author Notes

  The Midnight Coven Presents …

  Vampire Brides

  Eleven stories set in a shared world where vampires are real and love is forever.

  The Vampire Bride novellas can be enjoyed in any order. Each of the stories is a standalone. There are no cliffhangers, no shared characters, and each ends with a happy ever after. Our stories range from sweet to steamy, so there’s something for everyone.

  We hope you enjoy escaping into the world of the Vampire Brides.

  XOXO

  -The Midnight Coven Authors

  Chapter One

  Millie

  My grandmother's house looked the same as it did the day I left. I wasn't sure what I expected. I'd only been gone five years. For some reason, it felt like longer but also not long enough.

  The huge front yard was split by a long walkway, lined on either side with rows of oak trees, Spanish moss dripping from every branch. It created the feel of walking through a tunnel to reach the bright red front door. The red door was the only splash of color on the traditional white two-story home.

  The house was old, passed down from generation to generation. A line I had hoped to break. When I left the little town of Hearth, population negative twelve, okay, there might be three-thousand who lived here, I vowed to never return.

  "Want some help with your bags?" Dale, my cab driver and also former high school classmate, asked.

  "I'm fine," I said.

  "It's nice to see you back in town, Millie, we missed seeing you around."

  That was one of the biggest reasons I left. In a town this small, everyone knew everyone. I mentally braced myself for incoming.

  "I was sorry to hear that you got dumped," he said. "Those city guys don't know how to treat a woman."

  And there it was. The confirmation that my grandmother had already told everyone that I'd lost my job and lost my boyfriend and was coming back home with my tail between my legs. I was like a bad country song. Only it was a lot less fun when it was your life. And when you were sober.

  Dale slammed the trunk of his car then turned to me. "If you need a friendly face, you know where to find me."

  "Still working at the bar?" I asked.

  "Yep." He slid his hands into his front jean pockets, thumbs through the belt loops. "They made me assistant manager last year."

  "Wow, congratulations," I said, hoping the words sounded less condescending to him than they did to me.

  He smiled wider, not even catching the slightest insult from my tone. He was legitimately proud of working at the same bar he'd been a busboy for while we were in high school.

  Back then, the job had been pretty cool. He made decent money and always had booze to bring to parties. He said he swiped it, but I was pretty sure the indulgent owners who didn't believe in the man instituting drinking ages, left it out for him to take.

  Hearth was a weird place. I'd always felt like an outsider here, but I never really knew why. I'd hoped that a change of scenery would fix that. To be honest, I'd felt even more empty in Chicago. But I would never admit that to anyone. You'd think a committed relationship with one of the youngest CEO's in the country would have helped me feel fulfilled. Spoiler alert: it didn't.

  "Staying for a while?" Dale asked.

  "Not sure." I picked up my suitcase, hoping to end the conversation.

  Dale grabbed my second suitcase before I could get a grip on it. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I made you carry those yourself?"

  "One that lives in the twenty-first century," I said. "You don't have to throw those old fashioned values at me, Dale."

  "I'm not," he said, starting toward the front door. "I let you carry one bag yourself."

  "Right," I grumbled. "Mighty modern of you."

  "You know, people have been saying the city probably changed you, but I can tell you're still Millie Hunt, the girl who turned me down for Junior Prom."

  I winced. I'd forgotten about that. But Dale wasn't exactly a catch and I'd had my eyes on someone else at the time. "Sorry about that."

  "Don't you worry one bit, Miss Millie," he said. "If you and I had gone out, I doubt I'd be getting hitched next month."

  "Oh," I paused in front of the door, "congrats, Dale."

  "I'd invite you, but Patricia never really liked you," he said.

  That was true. And Patricia was batshit crazy. That wedding would probably have shotguns fired even if the bride wasn't pregnant. "You're a smart man, Dale. Keep your girl happy and you'll go a long way together."

  "You know, I can ask her if you want. I mean, the whole town'll be there. Might be a bit awkward that day with nobody to talk to."

  "I'm sure I'll survive," I said, not masking the sarcasm. Inwardly, I was hoping that I wasn't still going to be here by then.

  Dale set the suitcase he was carrying down and rang the doorbell for me.

  I stood in uncomfortable silence next to him while I waited for my grandmother to answer the door. Shifting the weight of the suitcase from one hand to the other, I frowned. What the hell was taking her so long?

  Finally, the door swung open and my grandmother, hair in perfect curls around her head, full face of makeup, and perfectly dressed looked down at me. That was what she did best, after all. I'd been a disappointment to her since I moved in after my parents died when I was twelve.

  "Millie Mae, what took you so long?" she asked, hands on her hips. Then, her expression softened as she caught sight of Dale. "Dale Hawthorne, my, aren't you the gentlemen?"

  "It's nothing, Ms. Hunt. I just gave Millie a ride from the airport." Dale lifted the suitcase. "May I?"

  My grandmother stepped aside so Dale could set the suitcase in the foyer.

  "You know, it's a darn shame you're spoken for, Dale. I'm sure a nice man like you with good southern values is exactly what my Millie needs."

  "I can take care of my own love life, thanks," I said. "And thank you of the ride, Dale."

  "Any time, Millie." Dale waved. "Have a good night, Ms. Hunt."

  My grandmother and I stood in silence for a moment as Dale walked away from the house. Already, my anxiety levels were spiking. I was going to need to sneak alcohol into my room soon. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was twenty-six years old. I shouldn't have to smuggle alcohol anywhere. Yet, here I was, back at the headquarters for god damn prohibition.

  Dale's car started up and I waved, forcing a cheerful smile on my face.

  "Well, you might not make the best choices in your love life, Millie Mae, but thank God you never settled with a loser like that one."

  My eyes widened and I turned to face my grandmother. "
Come again?"

  "Oh, you heard me," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Come on, we're late for dinner at the club."

  I'd never heard my grandmother say anything bad about someone before. "You feeling okay?"

  She closed the door behind us then turned to look at me, cocking an eyebrow. "Millie Mae, I might not be happy with your decisions all the time, but I sure as hellfire am not going to pass on this family's legacy to some waiter."

  I frowned. She was right back to telling me what I could and couldn't do, citing the family legacy as the end game. It didn't matter how many times I told her I didn't care if I inherited the five-thousand square foot monstrosity of a house on way too much land. I knew I should want the wealth and status she was so proud of, but it wasn't me. It just didn't feel right.

  My mom walked away from it, raising me in a riverfront house with two bedrooms and a huge front porch. We had a single bathroom and our only dining space was in the sunny kitchen. The house was small, but it was packed with books and board games and love. My throat tightened at the memory of my childhood home. My parents had been gone for thirteen years now. You'd think I'd eventually stop missing them.

  "Clean yourself up quickly, Millie Mae," Grandma said. "I've got to reintroduce you to society."

  "Grandma, I'm not really in a place to meet anyone right now," I said.

  "I would think not, dear," she said. "You're still in the mourning period."

  "Thanks, Grandma," I said.

  She tutted. "Seriously, what will they think of you if you were to start dating again so soon? It's bad enough that you were living with the man. I had to tell them all you were engaged."

  I shook my head, regretting my decision to come back here. I didn't have the energy to fight with her. I stared climbing the stairs toward my old room, lugging my carry-on suitcase with me. I'd anticipated something like this and had packed clothes to change into. "Give me ten minutes."

  "Not too much makeup," she shouted up the stairs.

  The door to my old room was closed and I stood in front of it staring at it for a full minute before I finally made myself open it. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside.

  Everything looked the same. Nothing had been touched. It was as if she knew I'd come back here eventually. Well, that wasn't totally true. Everything was spotless. Like the housekeeper kept dusting in here daily after I left.

  Self-pity tugged in my chest, making me feel hollow. How had my life broken down so far in such a short time? Five years ago when I left here, I had a generic degree in business and a head full of dreams.

  I dropped the carry-on bag next to the white dresser and started peeling off my travel worn clothes as I walked toward the ensuite bathroom. There were perks to my wealthy grandmother's home. While I lamented the lack of simplicity I'd had as a child, I knew my teen years would have been far less pleasant if I had to share a single bathroom with both of my parents.

  I splashed water on my face and toweled off on a soft pink towel with a seashell pattern. Then, I dug through the drawer and found the shiny silver brush I'd left behind. It was a sixteenth birthday gift and while it was pretty, it wasn't the best thing to get through my thick, blonde hair.

  Finally, I returned to the bedroom and tugged on what I hoped was a tasteful blue sundress. It was one of three dresses I'd kept from my past life here. Everything else had been replaced and none of my new clothes would be acceptable or needed here.

  "Millie," Grandmother called. "We are no longer fashionably late."

  "I'm coming right now." I grabbed my purse from where I'd tucked it into the carry-on bag then walked to the door.

  I settled into the passenger seat of my grandmother's Bentley. I'd been here less than an hour and already I needed to plot my escape. I really, really hoped they had enough vodka at the club to help me forget the rest of the evening.

  Chapter Two

  Beau

  The house smelled like moth balls and Chanel Number Five. It reminded me of the 1940s, a decade I'd spent away from the war boozing with the who's who of New York City. It wasn't a time I liked to remember. But then again, we all had dark parts in our history. Especially when you lived as long as I did.

  Two-hundred and twenty-six years. That was how long this god forsaken house had stood. And it had been at least a century since I had last bothered to visit. I was tempted to walk away and not make the claim on the place. Instead of passing it on to family, it would wither away into oblivion, sold to the highest bidder. Probably someone would tear the house down and build a hotel. Part of me thought that maybe I should do it myself.

  The land was coveted, twelve acres of untouched landscape less than a mile from some of the best fishing in the world. If not for the old Hunt place, the entire neighborhood would probably be nothing but tourists now. Instead, the two aging reminders of times long gone stood like sentinels, guarding some of the last untouched land along the river.

  I'd seen enough of greed in my life to know that nothing good would come from selling the property. My best bet was to dig around the family tree and find out who might be missing out on their inheritance. The Miller family had always had its share of scandal and I was sure I could find someone who had been cut out of a will or sent away to live with obscure family.

  Last time I had to dig into the past to find this home a new owner, there hadn't been any Internet. This time, I was sure it would be easier. Which was exactly what I wanted. The less time I had to spend here, the better.

  I closed the folder I was looking through then stood, stretching my arms to the sky. I might not need breathe, but I still got stiff when I sat too long. I walked over toward the heavily draped window and looked down at the slit of sunlight that broke free of the covering. It formed a puddle of gold on the polished wood floor and I could see dust motes floating in the light.

  Frowning, I turned and walked away from the window. I'd already been up for an hour but the sun still hadn't set. I longed for winter with its shorter days.

  Feeling restless, I headed back to the guest room where I'd settled in for my stay. I'd been here nearly two days and hadn't gone hunting. Tonight, I needed to look my best. It was time to feed.

  I could still taste the blood on my tongue as I cut through the cemetery on my walk back from town. It hadn't been hard to find someone to give me a few sips of blood. Compulsion came easy to me and aside from the decade or so when I'd decided to try the thrill of the chase, it was my preferred way to have a meal.

  The crescent moon didn't cast much light over the crumbling cemetery, but I found myself traveling toward the family plot. My parents were already dead when I was turned and because of the war, I never had a chance to get married. There was nothing tying me here other than my ego. As much as I told myself I was ready to let this all go and walk away from my past, something kept dragging me back here.

  The headstones in this part of the graveyard were sinking and some of them were knocked over. Most of them were difficult to read, especially in the dim light, but I still knew exactly where I was.

  I ran a hand through my hair and tried to shake the feeling of this place. Why did I keep coming back to Hearth? I'd managed nearly a century away this time, but it didn't feel like enough.

  "Shit," a woman's voice cut through the still night air. For a moment, the crickets were quiet, then their chorus sounded again.

  I turned and caught sight of movement beyond an especially odd tomb. One that was capped by an angel with slightly pointed horns coming out of its head. It was a newer addition to the cemetery and it made me think that whoever commissioned it either had a wicked sense of humor or shopped the clearance section of the headstone department at Walmart.

  "This just figures," the woman said.

  I moved closer, finally catching a glimpse of a woman in a summer dress. Her legs were covered in mud and she appeared to be struggling.

  "Do you need some help?"

  She screamed, then covered her heart with her hand. "Oh my
god, you scared the crap out of me."

  "Sorry." I held my hands up in mock surrender. "I don't mean you any harm."

  "Said the creepy guy walking alone in the graveyard," she said.

  I lifted an eyebrow and stared at her, bemused. "It seems I wasn't the only one who took the short cut through the cemetery."

  She frowned. "Well, never do it in heels."

  That's when I noticed that she was struggling to get her foot out of the mud. The heel of her shoe must have cut right through it.

  I walked over to her. "May I?"

  She straightened and blew out a frustrated breath. Her hands were covered in mud from trying to dig out her shoe, which had sunk deep in the soft earth, swallowing her foot. "Please."

  "Hold on to me," I said.

  She hesitated, seemingly torn between accepting help from a stranger or staying stuck.

  "I won't bite," I said.

  She gave an almost imperceptible nod then extended her arms, placing her hands on my shoulders.

  Her touch was gentle and warm, accompanied by a slight electricity I'd never felt before. The sensation spreading down my back and through my arms. I looked up at her, brow furrowed.

  She was holding her breath.

  If I still breathed, I would have done the same.

  There was something different in her touch and as my eyes made contact with hers, I froze. Her gaze was intense, her brown eyes penetrating me to my core. I'd been with a lot of women in my life, both as a human and a vampire. But I'd never felt anything like this. It was as if we'd connected somewhere before. "Do I know you?"