Announcing a new book coming in December
By A.J. Llewellyn
“Why won’t you eat it? Just tell me, do you hate my cooking?”
“No, Harry, I don’t hate your cooking.” I toyed with the Korean pancake he’d just plopped on my plate.
“Do you hate me? Is that the problem?”
“Of course not.” I would have given anything to fork a piece of the pancake and eat it. The cinnamon and butter oozing from it smelled so tantalizing. I shifted on my chair at the kitchen table. It was hard to avoid his gaze.
Harry shook his head. “You’re a freak. You wouldn’t eat dinner last night. I prepared pepper steak in honor of our third month together. You said it was overcooked. The only thing you seemed interested in was the blood left in the packaging. What the hell is wrong with you?”
I wished I could tell him, but how did I explain things? I hardly understood it myself.
“You hate my cooking. Come on, admit it.”
“That’s not true!”
But he talked over me. “I don’t get it. Nobody hates my cooking. I’m a great cook. The best cook I know. So, please. Explain it to me. If you can.” He spat out the last three words with such bitterness I would have done anything to eat his damned scrambled eggs and pancakes just to get back to where we’d been.
On the verge of forever. On the cusp of being everything I’d ever wanted in life.
“I can’t eat food. Period,” I said.
He grabbed a handful of his gorgeous mop of glossy, dark hair atop his cute head. “George. What the fricken hell is that supposed to mean?”
Fear and panic gripped me. “Exactly what I said. I can’t eat food. I love food. I want to eat food. I want all the pasta. All the fudge. I want it all.” My voice cracked. “I just can’t have it.”
“Is there something wrong with you?”
“You might say that.” Man, oh man. How did I explain everything I’d gone through the past few months? How did I convey my total terror that each day was just getting worse?
“Tell me.” He stood, naked, hurling my uneaten plate of food into my kitchen sink. The plate broke and the sound made me jump.
“I can’t wait to hear this.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“I have a blood disorder.” I tried to keep my tone even. I didn’t want him to know how stressed out I was, but this conversation had been brewing for weeks. I’d been able to wriggle out of it, until now. I’d been able to hide veggies under mashed potatoes in restaurants and smuggled bits of meat to his dog, Yoda, when we ate at his place.
“You’re making no sense. You seemed fine when I met you and then what, a month in, and you start becoming picky. Picky, picky, picky.” He stomped on the pedal of my trash bin and the lid flew up. He dumped the smashed plate and my breakfast into it.
My gaze flew to the wall calendar. December eighteenth. One week until Christmas and I’d been so looking forward to seeing my family. I’d been so excited to introduce Harry to them.
They say you can’t go home again. But I do it. A lot. I’ve never understood people who don’t get along with their families. Mine is awesome. And all the women in it make fudge, which is my favorite thing ever. Christmas, particularly, has always held a special thrill for me. Fudge and family and leftovers.
Thank heaven for leftovers.
I’ve never left the family home without trays of extra devilled eggs, turkey, mashed potatoes, vanilla fudge, chocolate fudge, mocha almond fudge, double chocolate pecan fudge…well, you get the idea.
But this Christmas was going to be different. Things had changed so much in my life, and I had no idea how I was going to break the news to them. Because I still have no idea how it happened.
I just woke up one morning to find a raging hard on tenting the bed.
And fangs elongating in my mouth.
“I’m a vampire,” I said, surprised the words came out, right before the most important Christmas of my life, confessing this to the man I loved.
About Fudge, Family and Fangs
When George meets Harry, he thinks he’s met the man of a thousand daydreams except that George has a secret. He’s a newly turned vampire and has no idea how it happened, or how to deal with it.
How could he be a blood-sucking fiend when he’s an almost vegetarian?
Being a watchmaker, his life has revolved around time, and timepieces. He restores people’s family heirlooms, but now, he and his disappearing trade are at risk. He’s told Harry the truth and Harry’s up and left him. But who can blame him? There’s more danger in store though for George. He learns one of his online dates must have bitten him. Who and why? And how is he supposed to get through Christmas with his family without the love of his life?
Harry Amdis loves George, but how can this crazy-hot guy be a vampire? And does he really believe he is one? Worse, Harry has a deadly secret of his own that goes back to his own nutty family. They can never be together. George has the kind of family Harry’s always envied. He wishes he could get over the fang part and love George for himself, his family, and his mom’s awesome fudge. But some things are more than dealbreakers…aren’t they?
Coming to www.extasybooks.com in December.
About the author
A.J. Llewellyn lives in California, but dreams of living in Hawaii. Frequent trips to all the islands, bags of Kona coffee in the fridge and a healthy collection of Hawaiian records keep this writer refueled.
A.J’s passion for the islands led to writing a play about the overthrow of Queen Lili’uokalani’s kingdom.
A.J. never lacks inspiration for writing erotic romances but has many other passions: collecting books on Hawaiiana, surfing and spending time with family, friends and animal companions.
A.J. Llewellyn believes that love is a song best sung out loud.
Visit her:
- website
- Amazon Author page
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