Fanged Love by

But Boz? He’s…he’s…an eight-hundred-year-old vampire! He’s the night. He kills people and drinks blood.

My fingers longingly reach for the spot on my neck where his fangs gave me the most incredible orgasm of my life.

Really? Really, Stella? I berate myself. You’re willing to overlook all of the bad stuff just because of an orgasm?

“I’m hopeless!” I sigh, feeling like my head is about to explode. I need a hot bath, a toothbrush, and a long nap. Tomorrow, my parents should be home. Neli and Boz will likely arrive with them. As soon as I see him, I have to tell him the truth. There is no us. There is no future I can see with a man whose love would require me to become a vampire.

I can’t ever see him again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Stella

The next morning my family is back. And lucky them, they did it without a strip search. Not that they needed one to feel down. Everyone is putting on a brave face, talking about what a great trip it was, but I can read between the lines. We all know the ribbon isn’t enough to save Stellariva. I don’t see another way around declaring bankruptcy. My parents will lose everything they’ve worked so hard for, and it’s doubtful anyone would approve loans for the twins to go to culinary school. I’ve failed them.

My sisters volunteer to go to the grocery store after breakfast, which gives me the chance to talk to my parents alone. They’re sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee, and talking in hushed tones. I take in my mom’s ratty old beige cardigan and my dad’s faded chambray shirt—signs of financial distress I should’ve noticed. They probably haven’t bought anything for themselves in years. Everything was for me and my sisters. My throat clogs with emotion.

“Mom, Dad, I’m so—” my voice chokes “—so sorry. I failed you. I did everything I could think of with marketing and the labels and blends.” I wipe tears from my eyes, overwhelmed by the past couple of days. “Everything you worked so hard for…it’s just—”

“Stella,” Mom says, rushing over to hug me, “none of this is your fault.”

My dad peers at me, hovering over Mom’s shoulder. “We know you tried your best. We never should’ve put so much on your shoulders. We’re the ones who failed you. This was supposed to be your inheritance.”

“No, Dad, you gave me a legacy to be proud of, but now…”

My dad wraps his arms around both of us. “My girls, we’ll be okay.”

I sniffle as we break apart from our family hug. My dad always says we’ll be okay, but I just don’t see how.

Mom puts her arm around me, guiding me to one of the island stools. She pours a cup of coffee for me.

I wrap my fingers around the white ceramic mug, comforted by its warmth. “What are we going to do?”

My parents exchange a look, and I tense. They’ve been keeping secrets from me again. “What? Just tell me.”

Dad speaks in a soothing tone. “First, just know that your mom and I love what we’ve created here. We’ve loved raising a family at a vineyard. It’s given us so much freedom and the opportunity to be part of your lives. We both got to see you girls growing up. Something we would’ve missed out on if we had to commute to a job.”

Mom nods. “It was a gift to have this family time together, living and working on this beautiful land.”

“And now it’s over,” I say flatly.

Dad sighs. “You girls are grown. The twins only have a year left to graduate, and they’re both so independent. Maybe it’s time for us to move on.”

“Bankruptcy,” I say softly.

“Actually,” Mom says, “we thought if we sold the house and the land, we could avoid bankruptcy. After we pay off our debt, we may have enough to get the twins to culinary school.”

The breath whooshes out of my body. Sell Stellariva? It never occurred to me they’d give up our home. The rolling hills of beautiful California wine country that I thought would be my view for the rest of my life—gone. I swallow hard over the lump of emotions lodged in my throat. This house, this land holds so many memories. I can’t imagine never being able to return to it.

“Stella, it’s the only option that makes sense from a business standpoint,” my dad says. “Surely you see that.”

Panic takes hold. “What if you sell it to someone who turns it into a parking lot or a shopping center? Or cookie-cutter suburban homes or a gas station! It could be anything. You don’t know what they’d do with it.”

Mom holds up a finger. “Or…maybe another young family looking to run a vineyard could buy it.” She doesn’t sound convincing.

I press my lips together. The land will be bulldozed. Everything ruined.