grinned and wiggled her fingers at him. “Hey zombie boy.”
“It was real then.” He looked up at the woman sitting next to him. Her long red curls drifted past her shoulders, and her eyes were green flecked with gold. She wore a white loose-fitting top and a crinkled black skirt with calf-length boots. “Who are you?”
“Lenette Stinson,” she said softly. “And that’s Jessica.”
“That thing,” he said. “Is it …” He realized “dead” was an ineffectual term. He sat up, leaning against the headboard. He glanced around the room with its soothing blue walls and simple white furniture. The pleasant scent of jasmine tickled his senses. His gaze flicked to the woman so close to him, and he realized it was her perfume. Her eyes were filled with warmth, and there was something else, too. Interest. He blinked. It had been a long time since a woman had looked at him with anything other than ire. His occupation often precluded dating.
“Don’t worry,” said Jessica. “As soon as my husband brought you into the guest bedroom, he disposed of the zombie. Occasionally they still pop up. Most of the time we catch them before they actually chomp on someone.”
“You sound as though this was a common occurrence.” He tore his gaze from Lenette and looked at Jessica. Ah, Jessica Matthews. Excellent. He’d gotten the right house after all.
“Broken Heart isn’t your usual kind of town,” she said. “You’ll like it, though.”
“I’ll like it?” He shook his head. “I’m not moving here. I came here because you have not filed your taxes in two years, Mrs. Matthews. We need to discuss how—”
Her peals of laughter flummoxed him.
“I don’t find this situation merits joking,” he said stiffly.
Lenette laid a comforting hand on his thigh, and Meyer was immediately distracted by the intimate touch. “I’m afraid Jessica’s tax issues are no longer yours to worry about. It seems that the zombie bite has … infected you. You’re not quite human anymore.” She shot a look at Jessica who had her lips pinned together. Meyer realized the other woman was refraining from spouting more IRS jokes.
All right then. Bitten by a zombie, and now he was … something else. Meyer had no time to work his way through denial or put forth entreaties about the impossibility of his current situation. He was a practical man. “Will I turn into a zombie like the one who bit me?”
“Nah,” said Jessica. “Lenette’s a kick-ass Wiccan. She saved your butt with her magic. Dr. Michaels took some blood samples, but he seems to think that even though you’re sorta zombie, you’re not dead.” She patted his foot. Then she smiled, and he saw her fangs. “All this talk of blood is making me hungry. I’ll see you guys later.”
After Jessica left the room, Meyer turned a shocked gaze to Lenette. “Blood?”
“She’s a vampire, honey,” she said. “I’m a witch who practices white magic. And you are an almost zombie.”
“This morning, I was an IRS agent.”
“I think,” said Lenette, chuckling, “that zombies are better liked.”
Her lips glistened with some kind of gloss that he very much wanted to taste. She wore very little make-up, but she didn’t need it. He’d never been so enamored of a woman before. Decisive as always, Meyer leaned forward and kissed her, a brief tender invasion that made his heart skip a beat. He drew back, just a little, and gauged her reaction.
Lenette smiled, and cupped his cheek. “Hmm. Not bad for a zombie. But maybe you should give it another try, just to make sure I like it.”
So, he did.
Note from the Author: Meyer and Lenette show up in some of the Broken Heart books, including Book 9, Only Lycans Need Apply .
Deleted Scene from Don’t Talk Back to Your Vampire
Ta-da! I interrupt this masterpiece to bring you Jessica’s point-of-view. Heh. Heh. I learned how to glamour mortals so don’t blame our historian; she’s staring at the laptop with drool
“It was real then.” He looked up at the woman sitting next to him. Her long red curls drifted past her shoulders, and her eyes were green flecked with gold. She wore a white loose-fitting top and a crinkled black skirt with calf-length boots. “Who are you?”
“Lenette Stinson,” she said softly. “And that’s Jessica.”
“That thing,” he said. “Is it …” He realized “dead” was an ineffectual term. He sat up, leaning against the headboard. He glanced around the room with its soothing blue walls and simple white furniture. The pleasant scent of jasmine tickled his senses. His gaze flicked to the woman so close to him, and he realized it was her perfume. Her eyes were filled with warmth, and there was something else, too. Interest. He blinked. It had been a long time since a woman had looked at him with anything other than ire. His occupation often precluded dating.
“Don’t worry,” said Jessica. “As soon as my husband brought you into the guest bedroom, he disposed of the zombie. Occasionally they still pop up. Most of the time we catch them before they actually chomp on someone.”
“You sound as though this was a common occurrence.” He tore his gaze from Lenette and looked at Jessica. Ah, Jessica Matthews. Excellent. He’d gotten the right house after all.
“Broken Heart isn’t your usual kind of town,” she said. “You’ll like it, though.”
“I’ll like it?” He shook his head. “I’m not moving here. I came here because you have not filed your taxes in two years, Mrs. Matthews. We need to discuss how—”
Her peals of laughter flummoxed him.
“I don’t find this situation merits joking,” he said stiffly.
Lenette laid a comforting hand on his thigh, and Meyer was immediately distracted by the intimate touch. “I’m afraid Jessica’s tax issues are no longer yours to worry about. It seems that the zombie bite has … infected you. You’re not quite human anymore.” She shot a look at Jessica who had her lips pinned together. Meyer realized the other woman was refraining from spouting more IRS jokes.
All right then. Bitten by a zombie, and now he was … something else. Meyer had no time to work his way through denial or put forth entreaties about the impossibility of his current situation. He was a practical man. “Will I turn into a zombie like the one who bit me?”
“Nah,” said Jessica. “Lenette’s a kick-ass Wiccan. She saved your butt with her magic. Dr. Michaels took some blood samples, but he seems to think that even though you’re sorta zombie, you’re not dead.” She patted his foot. Then she smiled, and he saw her fangs. “All this talk of blood is making me hungry. I’ll see you guys later.”
After Jessica left the room, Meyer turned a shocked gaze to Lenette. “Blood?”
“She’s a vampire, honey,” she said. “I’m a witch who practices white magic. And you are an almost zombie.”
“This morning, I was an IRS agent.”
“I think,” said Lenette, chuckling, “that zombies are better liked.”
Her lips glistened with some kind of gloss that he very much wanted to taste. She wore very little make-up, but she didn’t need it. He’d never been so enamored of a woman before. Decisive as always, Meyer leaned forward and kissed her, a brief tender invasion that made his heart skip a beat. He drew back, just a little, and gauged her reaction.
Lenette smiled, and cupped his cheek. “Hmm. Not bad for a zombie. But maybe you should give it another try, just to make sure I like it.”
So, he did.
Note from the Author: Meyer and Lenette show up in some of the Broken Heart books, including Book 9, Only Lycans Need Apply .
Deleted Scene from Don’t Talk Back to Your Vampire
Ta-da! I interrupt this masterpiece to bring you Jessica’s point-of-view. Heh. Heh. I learned how to glamour mortals so don’t blame our historian; she’s staring at the laptop with drool
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