She never believed in vampires until she found herself cornered by one in the shadowed backroad to her house. But her throat didn’t tense around a panicked scream, instead it relaxed on her exhale of intrigue. Though the intensity of his malachite eyes chilled her bones with an awareness of danger, she didn’t cower nor try to run. It was as though she were transfixed by his ethereal beauty, fear ebbing with a building sense of awe. His translucent skin seemed to gleam an opalescent hue in the moonlight. And when he said he wouldn’t hurt her — voice a husky baritone — she believed him.
In a trancelike motion, she offered her jugular pulsing with bashful anticipation beneath caramel skin. When his fangs pierced her flesh, collecting crimson teardrops from her punctured neck, she felt no pain. Only a dizzying ecstasy.