(Libido had just been on my Word-A-Day calendar.) The one who wasn’t nearly glad enough to see me. But that element of danger is what attracts most fang-bangers, if you ask me.) Though I’ve been accused of being one of those pathetic creatures that hang around vampires in the hope of attracting their attention, there’s only one vampire I’m involved with (at least voluntarily) and it was the one sitting right in front of me. (Sometimes, those lusts all get kind of snarled up, and you get your dead fang-bangers. Like all vampires, his fangs are only fully extended when he’s in the mood for the sexy kind of lust, or the feeding-and-killing kind of lust. His fangs were retracted, so he was totally not in the mood in which I’d hoped to find him he wasn’t thinking of me carnally. I stared at him, not quite believing what had just happened. He hit a button and the screen went blank. Just as I opened my mouth to comment that vampires did appear in photographs despite the legend, Bill twisted around and realized I was reading. Under the picture was a name, and under that was some text. He looked sort of Anthony Quinn type sexy, and he looked powerful. On the screen, there was a snapshot of a distinguished man with silver hair and a dark tan. It was a wonderful back, with broad shoulders, and I had planned on seeing it bare with my nails dug into it. I inhaled slowly and steadily and glared at Bill’s back. I’d been on my feet for six hours straight at Merlotte’s Bar, and every time some customer had under-tipped, or some fool had patted my fanny, I’d reminded myself that in a short while I’d be with my boyfriend, having incredible sex and basking in his attention. He was enough to give any woman a hormonal surge. His skin was glowing, and his thick dark hair smelled like Herbal Essence. At least he’d remembered to eat.īill, not a jeans-and-tee kind of guy, was wearing khakis and a plaid shirt in muted blue and green. An empty bottle of type O TrueBlood was on the desk beside the keyboard. “Hello, sweetheart,” he said absently, his gaze riveted to the screen. Now it was the keyboard that attracted him. He’d torn himself away from his work when I came home, until the past couple of weeks. This was an all-too-familiar scenario in the past month or two. Club Dead copyright 2003 by Charlaine Harrisīill was hunched over the computer when I let myself in his house.

Sookie stackhouse book 3