Accidental Sire (Half-Moon Hollow #6)

“I will not miss you,” she told me. “I won’t even notice that you’re gone.”

“Me, neither. I will definitely not call you or Skype with you. And I will not insist that you send me pictures of Fitz every other week.”

“Understood,” she said. “We will have a distant and resentful relationship from here forward.”

“Got it.”

Cobra-quick, she slid her arms around me and squeezed. I patted her head.

“So you’ve got your laptop, your phone charger?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Warm socks?” Jane asked. “Backup blood supplies?”

“Yes.”

“I just worry,” she said. “Those dorms can get cold.”

“And I have a thermostat,” I told her. “Right there in my room.”

Jane hugged me again. “The unicorn room will always be yours.”

“Will the unicorns still be there if I come back?”

“Don’t push it.”

Ben and I slid into the car. We laughed as we buckled our seatbelts and made various pre-road-trip adjustments to the radio.

Ben cleared his throat. “You know, when most boyfriends and girlfriends leave for college together, they don’t leave from the same house.”

“Don’t make it weird,” I told him.

“It’s always going to be weird,” he said. “You know, once we get home, we can come back to Jane’s for a visit, any weekend you want.”

I leaned over, stretching the seatbelt as far as it would go, to kiss him. “We’re not going home,” I told him. “We’re leaving it.”

“That was cheesy,” he murmured against my lips.

“That’s me, a big sentimental cheese ball.”

“That’s what I’ve always loved about you.”





Can’t get enough of Molly Harper’s Half-Moon Hollow series?



Rare-book expert Anna Whitfield is delivering a package to Half-Moon Hollow when her plane goes down, and a sexy vampire comes to her rescue. He’s clearly got ulterior motives, but does he want to date her . . . or devour her?



Where the Wild Things Bite



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Widow Libby Stratton arranged to be turned into a vampire after she was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. But she’s struggling with her transition, and finds out the hard way that it sucks to be the only vampire member of the PTA . . .



The Single Undead Moms Club



* * *





Gigi Scanlon is no longer an innocent teen. She’s all grown up and looking for love, and her family and friends worry she’ll go for the sexy, alluring vampire instead of a nice, safe human. But sexy and alluring, with a penchant for biting, could be just what Gigi wants . . .



The Dangers of Dating a Rebound Vampire



* * *





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   SWEET TEA AND SYMPATHY

   A Southern Eclectic novel


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Margot Cary leaned her forehead against the warm truck window as it bounced along the pitted Georgia highway. She closed her eyes against the picturesque landscape as it rolled by. Green, green, green. Everything was so effing green here.



Green was not her lucky color. It certainly hadn’t blessed the opening of the botanical garden’s newly completed Wesmoreland Tropical Greenhouse. Maybe it had been a mistake to carry the green theme so far. Green table linens, green lanterns strung through the trees, down to emerald-green bow ties for the catering staff. Weeks later, she still remembered the terrified expression on one waiter’s face when she caught him by the arm before he carried his tray of crudités into the party space.

Despite her glacial blond beauty, the younger man practically flinched away from her touch as she adjusted his tie. Margot would admit that she’d been a bit . . . demanding in organizing this event. She had taken every precaution to make sure that this evening’s black-tie opening was as smooth as Rosaline Hewitt’s recently Botoxed brow. She’d commissioned a silk-leaf embroidered canopy stretching from the valet station to the entrance to prevent the guests’ hairstyles and gowns from being ruined by the summer rain. She’d researched each invitee meticulously to find out who was gluten-free or vegan and adjusted the menu accordingly. She’d arranged for two dozen species of exotic South American parrots to be humanely displayed among orchids and pitcher plants and a flock of flamingos to wade through the manufactured waterfall’s rocky lagoon.

She was not about to have all of that preparation undone by a cater waiter who didn’t know how to keep a bow tie on straight.

“Go,” Margot said, nodding toward the warm, humid air of the false tropical jungle. He moved silently away from her, into the opulently lit space.

Margot turned and tried to survey the greenhouse as it would appear to the guests, the earliest of which were already filtering into the garden, oohing and aahing. Calling it a greenhouse seemed like an understatement. The glass-paneled dome reached four stories into the sky, allowing the tropical plant specimens inside plenty of space to stretch. Carefully plotted stone paths wound through the flower beds, giving the visitor the impression of wandering through paradise. But knowing how much Chicago’s riche-est of the riche enjoyed a nice soiree, the conservators had been smart enough to add a nice open space in the middle of the greenhouse to allow for a dance floor. She’d arranged elbow-high tables around the perimeter, covered in jewel-tone silk cloths. Gold LED lights cast a hazy sunset glow over the room, occasionally projecting animated fireflies against the foliage. And since society’s ladies would never do something so inelegant as visit a buffet, the waiters had been informed to constantly circulate with their trays of canapés in a non-obvious, serpentine pattern around the enormous shrimp tower in the middle of—

Wait.

“No,” Margot murmured, shaking her head. “No, no, no.”

She snagged the next waiter to walk through the entrance and took his tray. The sweet-faced college kid seemed startled and alarmed to have the chief planner for this event grabbing him by the arm. “You, get two of your coworkers and very quickly, very quietly, very discreetly get that shrimp tower out of here. If anyone asks, just tell them that you’re taking it back to the kitchen to be refilled.”

The poor boy blanched at the brisk clip to her tone and said, “But—but Chef Jean was very specific about—”

“I don’t care what Chef Jean was specific about,” she said. “Get it out of here now.”

The waiter nodded and pulled away from her into the gathering crowd.