Mistletoe Fangs

By Susan Blexrud

Dr. Lauren Marsh, a pregnant vampire, seeks therapy to overcome a recent trauma, but is her creepy doctor interested in more than her well-being? Will evil intercede, dashing the promise of a Christmas baby?

• Language: English
• Publisher: DCL Publications
• Release date: Nov 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781734769081

Susan Blexrud

Susan Blexrud is the author of numerous romance novels, including Valentine Vote, His Fantasy Maid, and The Gettysburg Vampire. When not researching and writing her next story, she can be found bird watching, quilting, reading, or attending Zumba and Yoga classes. She divides her time between the mountains of Western North Carolina and the flatlands of Orlando.  

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Mistletoe Fangs

By Susan Blexrud

DCL Publications

www.thedarkcastlelords.net

Rerelease © November 2020 Susan Blexrud

All rights reserved

Second Edition November 2020

First Edition Season of Love anthology November 2009

DCL Publications

1033 Plymouth Dr.

Grafton, OH 44044

ISBN: 978-1-7347690-8-1

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Cover Artist: Jae El Foster

Chapter One

Even for a vampire, you’re lookin’ pale, boss. Doreen pushed a glass of blood across the kitchen counter to John Wright, Orlando’s Vampire Vigilante.

I’m worried about Lauren. John rested a muscled forearm on the counter and picked up the glass of blood.

She’ll be fine. I’d say pregnancy agrees with her.

She’s never looked more beautiful, John smiled briefly, but she’s on edge. Constantly looking over her shoulder. Jittery in crowds.

You can’t expect someone to get kidnapped without after-effects. Give her time. Doreen cleaned a few drops of blood off the kitchen counter with a paper towel.

Vampires don’t obsess like humans do. Her fear is…unusual.

Think about it—she’d been a vampire for less than a year when the Mafia grabbed her. If those guys had held me for three days while they erected a guillotine to cut off my head, I’d have gone insane. Cut her some human slack.

True, it’s been half a millennium since I was human. I’ve forgotten how it feels to be afraid. John downed the last of his blood and picked up his car keys. I’m doing everything in my power to make her happy, and in the meantime, you’re in charge of Christmas.

Not to fret, boss. I’m on it.

Doreen had honed her holiday to-do list to a mere 30 items, and to emphasize the Wright’s black and silver Christmas theme, a black-flocked tree was on the list, number 28 to be exact. Number one was the nursery for John and Lauren’s baby, and though Doreen was grandmother to five, preparing for the arrival of a vampire baby required more than a stop at Babies R’ Us. To start, what kind of pacifier do you get for a kid with fangs? Would the baby be born with fangs intact or would they start coming in at six months? Better to knock off the easy items on her list, and then proceed to the challenges.

She bid her boss goodbye, finished straightening up the kitchen, and picked up her purple motorcycle helmet and matching leather gloves from the mud room. Walking outside, she breathed in the crisp, dry air that made December the best month in Orlando.

Five minutes later, she swerved up to Greenery Jungle, and then hoisted the motorcycle onto its kickstand with her combat boot. Removing her helmet, she ran her fingers through her spikey, silver hair. Earlier that morning, she’d taken out her pierced tongue ball after rolling it over her husband’s manhood. Following a string of satisfied moans that ended in a full-body shudder, Bill had advised her that enunciating black-flocked with that thing in her mouth could come out wrong.

Doreen headed into Greenery Jungle and spied an aproned clerk, who was sweeping pine needles from the showroom floor. Hi! I’m about to hit you with the most unusual request you’ve had in awhile.

Don’t count on it. He stopped to rest on his broom. I just dressed eight wooden reindeer in bikinis for Mrs. Grady’s front yard.

Doreen took a deep breath and crossed her fingers. I’m looking for a black-flocked Christmas tree.

That’s a new one. The clerk, whose name tag read Norman, scratched his chin. "But I’ve got black spray paint, so it’s doable. Give me a few days. How big