By Katie MacAlister
It isn't effortless discovering love if you find yourself 9 hundred years outdated . . . And undead Romance novelist Christian Dante is attractive and smug, a real alpha male. he is additionally a depressing One (aka vampire), doomed to spend eternity cruising the singles scene looking for the single lady who can redeem his soul. yet ultimately he is chanced on the affection that destiny has selected for him. Too undesirable she sees useless humans and loves to play with demons. Allie Telford is a Summoner—and she must rustle up a ghost lovely darn speedy or her paranormal occupation could be over. fortunately, she's simply stumbled upon a unadorned and undoubtedly scorching specter in a haunted lodge . . . who appears disturbingly just like the tall, darkish, good-looking myth guy who is been coming to Allie in her goals. however it turns out he is no phantom after all—he's a true flesh-and-blood- fed immortal who is made up our minds to make Allie his lover for without end . . . or longer. that can now not be a wholly undesirable factor . . .
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Extra resources for Sex and the Single Vampire
The woman at the desk smiled as she passed me the key to my room. "I'm sorry, Miss Telford; we're not responsible for the quality of the messages. " I smiled back, secure behind the sunglasses I wore everywhere. "That's okay; it's just my life falling apart, nothing to worry about. Is there a computer free now, do you know? " Tina, the receptionist at the St. Aloysius Hotel in jolly old London, checked the log for the two computers kept in a small, dark room for the use of those businesspeople who couldn't live without an Internet connection.
I gave her a cheesy smile in return. I felt something behind me, a sort of rippling in the air, and turned to see a tall, very pregnant woman waddle past the line of people waiting. She was accompanied by a short woman with one of those pretty heart-shaped faces that I had always secretly coveted. Both of them grinned and circled around behind the table to greet Dante. He stopped signing long enough to kiss both their hands, and speak with them for a few minutes before apologizing to the person who was waiting for her book.
His face alone was unmarked, and I wondered what horrible event had brought him to such an end. I tore my gaze from his lips—really, really nice lips—and reminded myself that it wasn't polite to ogle the ghosts. "Must have been my imagination," I told him, then set the chalk down on the ground next to me so I could make the protection symbols as I spoke the words of Release. "Go away. " I dropped my notebook. "What? " I spun around, pulling the flashlight out from where it was clamped beneath my chin.