The Bride of Casa Dracula
oneit's a nice day for a blood wedding
"I'm crushed, crushed, by your insinuation that I would purposely antagonize the Rules Committee," I said to the family attorney, Sam Grant. "I will treat those elitist bloodsucking bureaucrats exactly as well as they have treated me."
We were in the study, all manly, dark brown leather furniture and wood paneling and stultifying nonfiction books. I'd tried bringing in pretty chintz pillows and amusing novels, but Oswald, my fiancé and the owner of this house, had recoiled like Dracula from a flask of holy water.
Oswald now leaned back against the glossy mahogany desk and said, "Milagro, we all know that you like to poke bears, so stop trying to make Sam feel guilty."
He and his cousin Sam Grant were lean men with thick brown hair. They had nice broad brows, beautiful smiles, and even features. Sam, at six feet, was an inch taller than Oswald, who had a delightful asymmetry to his grin and a gleam in his gray eyes. Oswald had changed out of his suit and was wearing jeans and a T-shirt from Buddy's Body Shop that said Pounding, Sanding & Painting t ... read full excerpt from: Bride of Casa Dracula ebook
