Historias cortas y novelas de Vampire Fling

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials. I was born with "sensory impairment." I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power. When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day. But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub. And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover. I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters. The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side." He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin. "I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"

From the day I married Jason, I knew I was only a stand-in. He was heir to the vampire throne. I was nothing — the most forgettable daughter of a declining human noble family. The only reason he'd ever looked twice at me was this face. A face that happened to mirror Vicky's — his first love, already married to someone else. For three years after the wedding, I copied her carefully. I smiled whenever I saw him. He would touch my cheek, his eyes cold. “Vicky never smiled like that. Not to please someone.” To stay by his side, I got pregnant again and again — and lost each pregnancy, one after another, in the chill of his indifference. Three years of marriage. I had nothing left but scars. And still I would not let go. Until Vicky's divorce brought her back, and she came to the door herself. At a banquet, assassins struck. Jason's first instinct was to drop me and go to her. Nearly dying finally cleared my head. I signed the divorce papers myself and handed them to him. Later, after I finally walked away, Jason came looking for me — again and again. His eyes were blood-red, his voice unsteady. “Elena. I finally know. You're the one I love.” I just looked at him and smiled, calm. “Too late.”

"If you won't meet me, we're done!" I typed out the message, my fingertips trembling with anger. A few months ago, I'd started dating someone I met on an underground comic forum. He was gentle, clingy, talented at drawing, had a beautiful voice, and best of all, he showered me with gold coins at the drop of a hat. Summer break had arrived, and I'd been begging him to meet in person. He refused every single time. Why did other couples get to hold hands, hug, and kiss? While all I got was a cold chat window, day after day. In a fit of anger, I sent the breakup message. The moment the message showed as delivered, a deafening crash erupted outside my window. The glass rattled and hummed, and the night wind surged in, dragging the curtains with it. The next second, a massive black-and-white creature slammed into my living room. It had a pair of enormous bat wings, white fur dusted with moonlight, long pointed ears, small but sharp fangs, and half-lidded green eyes. It looked like a monster that had tumbled straight out of a castle painting. I stood frozen, though my hand had already found the kitchen frying pan. "A... a bat?" Before I could scream, another cascade of clattering sounds filled the room. Gold louis, rubies, black pearls, and diamonds spilled across the floor from beneath it. For a moment, I couldn't decide whether to call animal control first or hide this pile of treasure that could buy half the building.