Click on image to enlarge.

Category: Romance/Dark Fantasy
Description: Johnathan loves his neighbor, Lenora, but he's a vampire who looks 23 and she's a human of 43. When he reveals his hunger for her, she tells him to find someone his own age. Johnathan smells and tastes her arousal and knows she wants him, and his life of hunting drug dealers is nothing compared to the life he imagines with her in his arms. The evening Lenora receives a Sunlight tarot card in the mail, Johnathan listens to her read it aloud: "Painful memories and the future must collide and find resolution." Jonathon's resolution: she will be his, forever.
eBook Publisher: Cobblestone Press, 2008
eBookwise Release Date: January 2009

21 Reader Ratings:

Great	Good	OK	Poor

Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [87 KB]
Words: 17901
Reading time: 51-71 min.

Chapter One

"Because you're beautiful," Johnathan said as he handed the mail to Lenora. Once again, he'd timed his evening run to coincide with her nightly trip to the mailbox.

"Thank you." She blushed as she took the stack and ran her hands over her hips. She'd just got home from work and hadn't changed clothes yet. The short, black skirt and white, silky blouse covered too much of her body to suit him. Johnathan suppressed the desire to follow her hands with his own. He could plant thoughts in her mind right now and lead her to his bed, but he wanted her to come with him fully aware of her own desires and his ability to fulfill them.

She stared down at the stack of envelopes and began flipping through them. "You are an irrepressible flirt, you know that? I'm old enough to be your mother. You shouldn't flirt with your mother."

He could smell the moisture between her legs, sensed her increased heartbeat as he imagined the taste of her on his tongue. Her body wanted his, no matter how much her voice protested. And she was wrong about his age, although he couldn't tell her that without disclosing the truth about himself. He could not have her forever, for she was human, but he selfishly imagined loving her for one night.

"I don't think of you as my mother, Lenora; I promise you that."

She glanced up from the stack of letters, and he took a long, slow look up and down her sleek, athletic frame.

Lenora pointed an accusing finger at him. "One of these days you're going to say something like that to the wrong woman, and she's going to take you seriously."

"I know the woman." He took a strand of her hair and wrapped it around his finger. Her perfumed scent mingled with her aroused essence, and the urge to take her into his arms and carry them both to his king-sized bed pulsed through him. "You just name the day."

"Johnathan," she whispered, glancing around them. He released her hair, letting the silky strand slip through his fingers. She forced a laugh and once again studiously examined her mail. "Stop teasing an old lady. Find yourself a young woman your own age."

"Age has nothing to do with it. One of these days you're going to take me seriously. I'm looking forward to it."

"What is this?" she asked, ignoring his comment. She handed the remaining mail back to him and stared at a long, white envelope. "No return address. The postmark says El Dorado Springs, Colorado."

Johnathan sucked in a sharp breath as something like a knife stabbed him in the chest. Oh, criminy. Now what? He couldn't keep this woman's attention for two minutes before she attempted to change the subject. Even "to occupant" mail held her attention longer than he did.

She ripped the envelope open. "What in the world?" She squinted at the card and held it farther away from her face. "I can't read the writing--it's too small. Would you read it for me?"

Johnathan stepped away from her extended hand, ignoring the mail and shaking his head. "Looks like junk to me; I'm trying to quit."

How many more nights was he going to come here, waiting for her to take him seriously? It was time to get off his ass. He'd had his own reasons for avoiding contact with women until now, but Lenora was the finest woman he'd ever seen before or after his transformation. This was the woman he wanted, dammit. And if he hadn't been changed at 23, it wouldn't have been a problem.

She held the card out in front of her again. "Something ... sunlight? This is a time of ruin of the old life. What is this?"

Johnathan glanced at the card. It looked like one of the vampire tarot cards. "Probably one of those crazy religious groups looking for donations. You know, Lenora, I'd just eighty-six the thing."

She'd read it slowly aloud, making out the small print without her reading glasses. His own eyesight had improved about ten times over after the transformation. He could read the small print from here, not that he cared to. He had other things on his mind.

"All that was known is now lost," she continued. "Painful Memories and the future must collide to find resolution."

She looked up, her eyebrows drawn together. "Take a look at this thing. There's a hologram image on the backside."

"No thanks," he said, waving his hand in front of her. "'Sunlight, a time of ruin?' Yeah, that's information you needed, right?"

She tucked the card back into the envelope and took the rest of her mail.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I'll stick it on my refrigerator."

This was the moment; it happened every night the same way. He could sense the desire racing through her body as she glanced around them--four times by his count--checking to see if any of the neighbors were watching them. Then she would make some excuse to get away from him, and he'd have the remainder of the night to figure out what he could have said that would have made the difference between her leaving alone and him leaving with her.

Time to go for broke. Johnathan took another step toward her. "Why don't I come over for a while? There's a good movie on tonight. We could microwave some popcorn and watch it."

"Johnathan," she said, taking a step back. "Hang out with your friends. Meet girls your age, honey. You don't want to sit at home on a Friday night with the old neighbor lady." She turned on her heel and dashed back to her house before he could reply. Opening the door, she went inside without a backward glance.

"You're so wrong, Lenora," he said, turning toward his house. "That's exactly what I intend to do."

Lenora closed the front door and leaned against it, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. Oh, God. He was too gorgeous. And a flirt to boot. What she wouldn't give to throw caution to the wind, rip off his clothes and suck his cock until she worked that wicked sexy grin off his face.

She blew out the breath in a huff, kicked off her shoes and walked to the kitchen. Tossing the mail onto the counter, she opened her refrigerator, removed a Diet Coke, popped the top and took a long swallow. The cold, acidic burn down her throat brought her back to earth.

Johnathan was twenty years younger than she. Twenty years! It was ridiculous for him to flirt with her, and even more ridiculous to let herself get excited by it. So she told herself every day as she met him at the mailbox and looked at his luscious, perfect form of male humanity. Why hadn't she ever seen a man that looked that good when she could have done something about it?

Instead, she'd married an idiot who'd flattered her, and then almost as quickly divorced him. She'd lived alone ever since. Men, basically, were idiots, and she didn't need another one in her life.

And yet the vision of Johnathan came to her mind again. Well, imagining him was different. Imagining him naked, kissing her, licking her throat, nibbling her flesh. For some wild reason, she wanted to flash back to her youth and give him the biggest hickey in the world on that perfect, corded neck.

The blond hair, those sparkling green eyes, the long, lean physique. Oh, his body was the stuff of fantasy, and he lived right next door. One of these days, she was either going to have to move or give into her own lust. "Which will end with me moving anyway," she said aloud and laughed.

Lenora pulled the panty hose off and tossed them into the trashcan. She never liked to wear a pair more than once anyway, and those had been the most uncomfortable she'd ever worn. Control-top, my ass. Her little poochy belly could not be controlled; no matter how many sit-ups she did, no matter how many hours on the treadmill--she and her belly were not friends, even though they seemed destined to live together forever.

She pulled the blouse over her head as she moved to her bedroom and tossed it on the hope chest. Unzipping the skirt and sliding it down over her hips, she turned toward the full-length mirror and caught a glimpse of herself.

She turned away just as quickly. No point in going there. She was as fit as she could be, and whatever she looked like was what she looked like. No point in getting upset over drooping boobs and sagging backsides. Nothing was where it had been twenty years ago, and it would never be there again.

She thought once more of Johnathan's long, lusty appraisal and let herself imagine that he'd really been leering at her figure. The thought was heady and exciting, but she could only kid herself for so long before reality crashed down. He was a child, and she was an old woman. Although she'd never had children, she'd pointed out plenty of times that she could have been his mother.

This was for her own protection, she knew, and as chicken shit as it was, if she let herself enjoy the teasing for even a moment in front of him, she was quite sure he would stop. It was the chase and teasing that he loved. She feared the truth and thus avoided it; if he thought for even a moment that she would relish touching his naked body, the compliments, the visits to her mailbox, the leering, would stop.

She allowed herself this one guilty pleasure.

The knock on the door startled her from her reverie. She grabbed her robe from the hanger on the back of the door and pulled it on as she walked back into the living room.

"Who is it?" she shouted as she approached the door.

"Orville Redenbacher."

Strangely, Johnathan's voice sounded as if it were not on the other side of the door at all but coming from right beside her. She opened the door a crack and peered into the darkening evening.

"Johnathan. What in the world are you up to?"

His eyebrows rose as he twisted his head to look around the door. "Undressed already? Then my timing is excellent. I came to watch the movie with you."

Lenora grabbed both sides of the robe and clutched them closer together as she slid farther out of his sight. "I told you to call some friends, fella. Leave an old woman alone."

His face darkened, and his eyes flashed. "Lenora, open the door."

Lenora had never seen this look on his gorgeous face before. "I don't think so, honey. What's gotten into you today?"

He pushed the door open, stepped inside, tossed the bag of microwave popcorn on the floor and took her in his arms. His movement was so quick she gasped. He stared down at her, his eyes searching hers. "Enough of this, Lenora. You want me. Say it."

Lenora couldn't believe what was happening. The door stood wide open, and she hoped like hell there was no one passing by right now to see her standing in her robe, her body pulled hard against the length of his. As if he'd read her mind, he kicked the door shut without taking his eyes off her.

"Say it, Lenora. Say my name. Tell me you want me inside you."

"Johnathan," she managed to squeak out. "We cannot do this."

"Oh, we can," he said. "And we will. But not until you tell me. Say it."

Oh, God, say it! Say it, let him rip the robe off, strip off the panties and bra and take you right against the fucking door!

"Johnathan, please." She forced her body's betraying desires out of her mind. "This is not a good idea."

Johnathan's gaze burned into hers, and she felt herself relaxing against his hard thighs and chest. The top of her robe had opened and cool air touched the tops of her breasts as fire burned between her legs. He held her against him, so high off the floor that she stood on her tiptoes, his mouth a breath away from her own. He seemed to be supporting all her weight as her toes barely skimmed the floor. The sensation that she was so light in his arms did nothing to dissuade her mounting desire.

"I know what I want." His voice was a whisper of seduction, his fingertips caressing her back through the fabric of her robe. "I don't know how much clearer I can make it. I've been patient, Lenora. You know I have, but I'm not going to be anymore. Tell me you want me. I know you do, but I have to hear the words."