Drop Dead Single: Vampire Romance (A Monstrana Paranormal Romance Book 1)

by Lacy Andersen

  Slowly enough, the pain subsided and he could feel Cate relax in his arms. It hadn’t taken long for the venom to take effect. He released her neck in time to see her heavy lids slowly close over her blue eyes. Within seconds, her chest ceased to rise and the pitter-patter of her heartbeat stopped.

  ❖

  Viktor watched over Cate’s pale lifeless body as the nerves bounced violently in his stomach. He’d never changed anyone himself, although he’d witnessed it plenty of times. It wouldn’t take long for the change to complete. In a matter of minutes, Cate would awaken, part of the undead. He couldn’t wait to show her all the elements of vampire life she had yet to experience.

  He was beginning to grow anxious when he caught sight of her finger twitching. Soon, her legs began to flex. A minute later, her eyes snapped open and she stared up at the ceiling as if dazed.

  “Welcome back, my love,” he said, planting a kiss on her hand. “How do you feel?”

  She turned her gaze on him and his breath caught in his throat. She’d always been beautiful, but the change had only enhanced her good features. Her blue eyes were as vivid as fresh paint on a canvas and her lips formed the perfect pink pout. Her chocolate hair had a sheen to it that made it irresistible to touch. Strength ran through her muscles as she stretched and he couldn’t help but admire every inch of her beneath the Egyptian cotton sheet.

  “I feel...hungry enough to eat a horse.” She blinked up at him in alarm. “Is that normal?”

  “Perfectly.” He handed her a goblet he’d had delivered to the room this morning. “Drink up. This will satisfy your urges.”

  She guzzled down the red liquid, moaning as it hit her tongue. He grinned and watched her feed, relief finally washing over him. The change had been complete. He could sense their connection, like a thread tying the two of them together. He’d forever be able to sense her and the fraction of his soul she carried. It was part of the magic of their breed. He couldn’t think of a better host for it than Cate.

  “Now, how do you feel?” He asked after she’d emptied the cup and abandoned it on the table.

  “Great!”

  She launched out of bed and examined every inch of herself, including the set of new fangs inside her mouth. He leaned back against the pillows and grinned as she did. He didn’t mind the view and he didn’t feel like sharing her with the rest of the world yet.

  “I’m a vampire,” she said, turning to him with wide eyes. Her chin trembled.

  He sat forward, his heart clenching. He’d been afraid of this. “Do you regret it?”

  She took a few deep breaths and clasped her hands in front of her chest. A smile broke out across her face and her eyes filled with tears. “Not on your immortal life. This is everything I ever imagined and more.”

  He was beside her in an instant, wrapping his arms around her back. She pressed against his chest and raised her lips to his. They didn’t waste time with sweet nonsense. His mouth devoured hers with a hunger that reflected in her own groans. They kissed until she shoved him hard and he fell back against the bed.

  “What was that for?” he asked, shock crossing his face.

  A wicked grin tugged at Cate’s face and something naughty twinkled in her eyes. “Just seeing how this vampire thing worked. I think I’m going to like it.”

  She crossed the space between them in a flash and leapt into his arms. A satisfied groan left Viktor’s mouth as she claimed his lips with her own. The rising sun spilled in through the windows, caressing the two immortal lovers with its rays, and promising wonderful times to come.

  ❖

  THANKS FOR READING A Bite Out of Love! Now, you MUST get your paws on Bite the Big Heartache. When werewolf Princess Stasia is sent on a special TV assignment, she comes face-to-face with the man who broke her heart years ago. The fur is sure to fly! Turn the page for an excerpt or get it here.

  SIGN UP FOR MY MAILING list to be notified when more books in the series become available. You’ll want to take a bite out of this fun romance!

  ❖

  There are many more books planned in this series, so if you loved it and can’t wait for more, please leave a review. The more reviews a book receives, the more attention I can spend on the series.

  Love Always, Lacy

  ❖

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  Bite the Big Heartache - Book 2 in the Monstrana Paranormal Romance Series

  Chapter One

  Werewolf Princess Stasia Pavlosky was going to be fired from her job. Today. She could feel it in her bones. There was a tremor in the air at Lochness Broadcasting Network. The kind that made every employee uneasy and left the bosses itching to put the ax down on the first person they caught sipping too long at the water station or smiling a little too hard.

  As if on cue, station manager Travis Treckle came stomping down the aisles between the two dozen work stations, a tremendous scowl etched permanently into his pudgy face. He tugged at his sagging khaki pants and rubbed a swollen hand across his belly. Stasia averted her gaze to stare at the mess of papers spread out across her desk, but it was too late. Mr. Treckle’s beady little eyes had zoomed in on her the moment he entered the room and he marched to her side.

  “Where are we with that new comedy club hour slot?” he demanded, his voice low and gravelly.

  To anyone outside the supernatural haven island of Monstrana Kingdom, he would appear as nothing more than a grumpy, middle-aged blond man with crooked teeth and a sullen attitude. But Stasia knew better. Her boss was of the troll variety, descended from the awful creatures of legend that guarded bridges and preyed on the weak traveler. He loved to lord his superiority over her, even if she was the crown werewolf princess. At the network, he was king, and she was nothing but a peon desperate to get her footing in the entertainment world.

  “We’re having trouble getting enough sponsors,” Stasia said, jumping to her feet. She towered over the troll by at least a foot. Her dark, curly brunette hair bounced around her head like it had a mind of its own. She blinked her large, honey-brown eyes at him and grimaced. “The witches’ circle is still sore about that interview we ran with a Salem supporter last month and the vampires aren’t interested in sponsoring late night shows unless it features Jimmy Kimmel. Did you know that dude’s a vampire sympathizer? Who knew?”

  Mr. Treckle squinted at her as if she’d sprouted two heads. “What’s the problem, then? In my day, the boys in the office would’ve already tackled the issue and found us three new sponsors. Do your job, Ms. Pavlosky, or I will find a man who can do it for you.”

  Stasia tried not to let her smile dim. Behind the cheerful expression, she entertained thoughts that sounded much like the wicked jokes of her best friend and co-ruler of the Monstrana crown — Vampire King Viktor Romanov. Throw him in the castle dungeon for a few nights. See if he’s so big and tough after that. Her coworkers certainly wouldn’t mind.

  Instead, she took a cleansing breath and nodded solemnly. “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on that.”

  Mr. Treckle harrumphed and gave her one last disapproving scan, starting at her designer leather boots, up her black satin leather pants, and over her baby pink sweater with bows printed on the front. She managed not to squirm under his scathing gaze.

  “And Myra wanted to give you the rogue alpha story?” he grumbled, turning his back on her. “What utter nonsense.”

  Myra was the station’s head of editing and a fierce vampire to boot. The only person who didn’t cower under Mr. Treckle, she’d taken quite a liking to Stasia ever since the Vampire Bachelor segment they’d ran last year featuring Prince Viktor and his lady suitors. It had been Stasia’s best idea yet and the most rewarding. The country had fallen in love with Prince Viktor and his wonderful mate, Cate. And Stasia had been able to witness her
closest friend fall in love. She could only wish that someday she’d be just as happy as the two of them.

  “What story did Myra want me to have?” She tripped over her boots as she ran after Mr. Treckle and knocked some papers off of a fellow worker’s desk. Her mother had always wondered at her lack of grace, a trait inherent to most of the werewolf kind even in human form. The only time Stasia didn’t feel like a clumsy fool was in wolf form. Mumbling an apology, she shot after the troll again and cut off his retreat. “What story, sir?”

  He tugged at his pants and growled. “Nothing for you to concern yourself about.”

  “But Myra...”

  “Myra doesn’t know what’s best for this network,” he snapped.

  “Is that so?” A cool feminine voice replied.

  A woman about Stasia’s height stepped out from an office doorway and cocked her hip. She wore a skin-tight black pencil skirt and a satin blouse that fit her torso like a glove. A thin gold band circled her right index finger — the customary magical ring of vampires which allowed them to walk in sunlight without burning. Long, strawberry blonde hair framed her pale face and she blinked long black eyelashes at the reddening troll.

  “I don’t...I didn’t...” The words came out of his mouth like the last ditch effort of a dying lawn sprinkler. Blood filled his cheeks and he snarled. “If you hadn’t so rudely interrupted, you would’ve seen that I was just about to give Stasia the job.”

  “Good, good.” She approached him with the steadiness of a predator. Her eyes narrowed and her red lips formed a disapproving frown. “Because with Princess Anastasia as the lead on this interview, I believe we’d really see public engagement. And with your falling numbers as of late, I’m sure you’ll take all the help you can get.”

  Mr. Treckle’s face went from red to purple in a blink. He sputtered out a few mumbled words that sounded suspiciously like troll curses and then threw a nasty glance Stasia’s way. “Don’t mess this up,” he spat. “Check in with me every day. I want to know your every move.” And then he was gone, off to stalk another poor unsuspecting employee, no doubt.

  Stasia turned with wide eyes toward Myra and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Is this what I think it is?”

  “A spot on our Nightline show,” she answered with a knowing smile. “An interview by the Werewolf Princess Anastasia Pavlosky with the lone alpha werewolf who abandoned his American pack after a harrowing battle with hunters. According to my sources, he’s just resurfaced in the tiny little Monstranian village of Molodoy. This is perfect for you.”

  Stasia swallowed hard and felt the energy drain from her body. It had been years since she’d stepped foot in Molodoy. Back then, she’d been young and foolish. A teenager angry with her family and wanting to run away from it all. She hadn’t even had her first moon yet.

  But that’s where she’d met him, the only boy to ever truly understand her. Or, at least that’s what she’d thought at the time. But he’d turned out to be just as big of a phony as the rest. And when her parents had finally hunted her down and brought her back home to the castle, she’d tried to erase him from her past. But memories never truly died. They just slept below the surface, waiting to punch her in the gut at the most inconvenient times.

  “Is something wrong?” Myra ran her tongue slowly over her top teeth, revealing a set of razor sharp fangs. “I hope you’re not getting cold feet. I thought you wanted this.”

  “I do, I do.” Stasia shook her crown of curls and set her jaw in a determined expression. “There’s nothing wrong. This story sounds perfect. What else do we know?”

  Myra smiled approvingly and then pulled a slip of paper from her blouse pocket. “Not much, to be sure. I’m not even confident I have a real name for him. William is all my sources uncovered. But they’re pretty sure this is his address. I’m afraid this one is going to be a tough nut to crack. He likes his privacy.”

  She took the piece of paper with an address scrawled in dark ink across the front. “What should I do?”

  “Go to Molodoy, spend a few days buttering him up. Use your feminine wiles if you have to.” Myra winked salaciously and Stasia felt her cheeks grow pink. “Then, get the interview. I’m afraid Mr. Treckle has only agreed to spare one camera man for this trip.” She made a face and rolled her hazel eyes. “...the cheapskate. He is unfortunately also in charge of your final product, so try your best to work around his brutish behavior.”

  “On it.” She saluted Myra with two fingers, the excitement returning to her rapidly pulsing heart.

  This could be her ticket off the ground floor of the Lochness Broadcasting Network. Nail this, and she could have her own segment. Her own show. She’d be the Oprah of the supernatural realm. Already, she pictured herself smiling graciously up at an adoring crowd and giving away shiny new cars. A car for you and a car for you!

  Molodoy wouldn’t intimidate her. She had this in the bag.

  “Perfect.” The vampiress sidled over to her office door and paused a moment, glancing over her shoulder. “This is a once in a lifetime interview, Stasia. I’ve never heard of an alpha leaving his pack, except in a change of leadership. There’s a story here. Something dark and compelling. I can feel it in my undead heart. Find the dirt.”

  “Absolutely.” She crumbled the paper in her hand. “I won’t let you down, Myra.”

  “I know, my dear.” A smile tugged at one corner of her blood-red lips. “That’s why I put my neck on the line for you. Forgive the pun, but I’m confident you’ll sniff out this story.”

  As soon as lithe woman disappeared into her office, Stasia pumped her fist high in the air and mouthed a silent hurrah. Feeling the weight of a dozen pairs of eyes, she turned on her heel to discover the entire floor staring at her. She pushed her hair out of her face and she gave them a dazzling wolfish smile. Nothing could get her down today. She was on her way.

  Chapter Two

  Billy Finley rounded the doors to his garage and cursed at the mutilated hunk of metal and chrome leaking oil on his driveway. The teenager who’d driven this once beautiful truck into the ground should’ve been strung up naked in the middle of the woods by his ankles. He would make a perfect meal for the enchanted swarm of giant mosquitoes that escaped from an illegal magical trading shop just a village over last month.

  That would serve him right.

  He whistled low and gave the Nissan Titan pickup one slow circle and then looked down at the invoice order in his hands. The teenager’s dad was a rich man who didn’t seem to think twice about putting such a luxurious and expensive vehicle in the hands of his reckless son.

  Still, Billy couldn’t complain. This was going to be a big job. He needed the business. And he needed the cash.

  “Sorry, old girl,” he said, patting the truck on what remained of its hood, “but you’re going to have to wait until tomorrow morning. It’s quitting time.”

  Right then, he wanted nothing more than to ramble on over to his one bedroom house attached to the garage, open the fridge, and press his lips to the mouth of an ice cold long-necked bottle. It was how he ended most days now. Quiet and alone. So unlike his year spent in America, preparing for the role as alpha of a diminishing werewolf pack. But that felt like a lifetime ago and it was a life he preferred to forget.

  “Yoo-hoo!”

  Billy’s whole body cringed when he heard the customary greeting of Madge, the town witch. She was as old as the hills and looked even older. He turned slowly to see her scuttling up the drive, a black shawl hanging from her bony arms and a long skirt tugged up over her massive belly. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, pressing a hand to her backside, and then called to him again.

  “Billy Finley, I really must engage your services,” she croaked.

  He resisted the urge to roll his green eyes and instead bit the inside of his cheek. “Yes, ma’am. What is it this time? Need help unloading the groceries? Can’t reach the mixing bowl?”

  She swatted a hand through the air. “No
, I have another very particular request. If you could invite me into your home, I will explain.”

  He bit back a sigh and set down his clipboard. When he’d moved back home to Molodoy last month, he hadn’t intended on becoming the witch’s neighborly gopher boy, but old man Rick had just put his garage up for sale and Billy couldn’t turn down that deal. It had been the fresh start he needed. Just good old-fashioned hard work and no alpha duties. With a side of witchy interference.

  “Come on in, Madge.” He lumbered toward the side door and held it open for her.

  She stood at half his height with loose, wispy hair and more wrinkles on her face than his dress shirts stuffed in the dark reaches of his closet. Making a beeline for his two-person dining table, she used her elbow to sweep off the piles of old crinkled newspapers and waggled her fingers over the wooden surface. A worn book with plastic ring binding appeared out of thin air.

  “Now, then.” She licked the tip of one crooked finger and began to flip through the pages. “I have just been informed that Mary Wirtz has returned home to Molodoy. She just purchased that yellow shuttered home across from the gas station.”

  He raised one eyebrow at her and migrated toward the fridge. “Yes...does she need some work done? I noticed last week when I drove by the vinyl siding is cracked on the north side.”

  “No, no, no.” She waved her hand and squinted at him. Her gray eyes looked him over from top to bottom, as if scrutinizing his greasy cut off t-shirt, jeans, and work boots. “You’re what, about thirty-five years of age? And a little over six foot tall?”

  Six foot three to be exact, but he didn’t correct her. “That’s right...” He popped open the fridge and pulled out two bottles. “Drink?”