Guest Post | Vampire Food

Hiya! I’m here as Holly today because I have another story out!!! 🥳 It’s August and we’re celebrating National Sneak Some Zucchini Onto Your Neighbor’s Porch Day. You might not believe it, but Zucchini is vampire food… Nah, I’m lying. Noah, our vampire in Vampire Food, eats zucchini if he has to, but he’s not a fan.

The title is referring to Rue, who is a former blood slave. He’s a magic user, and vampires are very fond of magic users’ blood. Sadly for Rue, this means, they kept him prisoner and snacked on him over and over again.

A year before the story takes place, Rue, along with three other blood slaves, were rescued and taken to a gated community of supernatural beings.

He lives with the leader, a tigress named Gertrude, and she has given him a garden. Rue’s skill lies in plants, and once he realises he can order seeds online and plant them, they’re drowning in veggies. This is where the sneaking onto your neighbour’s porch comes in.

But all is not well in the community. One day, Rue finds a severed head in his garden, and soon other body parts pop up.

If you don’t like playing jigsaw with body parts, skip this one. If you’re fine with it, it’s a slow burn, hurt-comfort, found family kind of story with a magic user and a vampire and loads of veggies.

Vampire Food

A former blood slave. A strapping vampire. More zucchinis than any man could eat.

Rue Yarrow was rescued from a blood bar and taken to a gated community of supernaturals. Haunted by nightmares and memories, he does his best to avoid people. His only solace is his garden, where he uses his magic to grow an abundance of vegetables. But one day, it isn’t the zucchinis greeting him, but a severed human head.

Noah Caramine wants as little drama as possible, and interfering with a vampire clan’s business is never a good idea. He’s never met a magic user and is curious about Rue, but he fears there will be consequences for stealing the blood slaves.

When body parts start popping up inside the walls, Noah doesn’t know if someone is trying to frame them for murder or distract them from keeping the blood slaves safe. Rue never believed he’d go near a vampire again, but when threats are drawing closer, he turns to Noah. Who better to keep him safe from vampires than a vampire?

Buy links:

Gay Paranormal Romance: 50,353 words

JMS Books :: Amazon :: books2read.com/VampireFood

Excerpt:

He slowly walked up the stairs, looking around so she wouldn’t spring anything unpleasant on him, but the house was empty apart from the two of them. On the kitchen table was a big metal water can.
Gertrude smiled at him as he lingered in the doorway. “For your garden.”
He nodded, and something close to excitement bubbled in his chest. His garden. Shit, he hadn’t been there for four days. What if all the seedlings had died?
She poured the coffee. “I’ve decided you’re not the face we should present to the world. It was stupid thinking, and I’m sorry for grabbing you.”
He nodded since an ice cube had lodged itself in his throat and prevented him from speaking.
“I need to do something different from what I’m doing, and in a drunken haze, I thought maybe we could mollify the humans’ call for blood with a pretty face.”
Rue winced. He didn’t want to be pretty. He believed it was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place. The vampires couldn’t have known he had magic until they bit him, so they’d chosen him based on his looks.
He looked like vampire food.
If he hadn’t looked the way he did, if he’d been more masculine, more butch… but it wasn’t true. Or partly, perhaps, but there was nothing androgynous about Chaton, and they’d taken him too, hadn’t they? Though not off the street, and they’d already known what he was.
“Since we last spoke, they’ve decided we aren’t allowed to sell things to humans.”
Her voice yanked him out of his self-pity session, and Rue frowned. “What?”
She shrugged. “They haven’t passed the bill yet, but I believe they will.”
“What does it mean, not sell?”
“It’s not worded quite like that. It says supernaturals shouldn’t be allowed to work jobs where humans have to interact with them. Cutting us out of all service occupations.”
Like bars and nightclubs. “You need humans.”
She stared at him. “What?”
“You need to hire humans.”
“I need to give our people work so they can earn money to buy food to survive. Food that has almost doubled in price in only a couple of weeks. Increased costs and no work, it’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
Shit. The humans were gearing up for war for real. “How many of those who live here would blend in?”
A crease formed between her brows as she watched him. “Blend in how?”
“How many would pass for human?”
“No one. They live here. No one who isn’t supernatural lives here.”
“And no one who isn’t registered would be willing to move to the other side of the wall?”
She was quiet for several seconds. “Everyone is registered, Rue. There isn’t a supernatural being here who isn’t registered. It’s illegal not to be.”
Fear clawed at him again. “You’ve registered me?”
Maybe she had without telling him. Maybe, if he ever entered the outside world again, everyone would know he had magic. The vampires would come for him again. He sucked in a breath, but it wasn’t allowed access to his lungs, so he sucked in another, and another. The kitchen swam around him, and a loud buzz built in his ears.
“Rue?”
Her voice sounded from somewhere far away.
“Rue! Come on, baby, look at me.”
He did. Her eyes had shifted into tiger eyes.
“Breathe with me.” She breathed in deeply, and he did his best to imitate her. When she blew out the air, he did too, and then they started over. He didn’t know how many times they did it, but when she finally smiled at him, he was cold and shaky.
“Drink your coffee.”
He nodded and almost knocked the mug over, since his hands didn’t obey him properly.
“I haven’t registered you. I assumed you were already.”
He shook his head.
“You’re not… registered.”
“Does anyone know I live here?” He bit into the blueberry muffin but couldn’t taste it.
She stared at him. “One hundred and two people live inside the walls, Rue.”
One hundred and two. “Including me?”
“Yes, including you.”
“And they’re all registered?” He nodded to answer his own question because, of course, they were. They were shifters and vampires.
“Yes. It’s illegal not to be registered.”
“Unless you’re human.”
She pursed her lips. “You’re not human.”
“I grew up human.”
Silence stretched, and he realized he’d never told her anything about himself.
“I grew up in the system.”
Puzzlement swept over her face. “Which system?”
“Foster homes. I have no idea who my parents are. I was moved from one home to another.”
She whined. “Oh, poor baby.”
He might have felt sorry for himself at the time, but there were worse things. Far worse.
“According to all papers, I’m human.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I’m human.”
“No, you’re not. Every shifter who passes you on the street can tell you’re not human. It’s in your scent.”
They could? He hadn’t known, but he’d never been around shifters.
“No humans ever noticed I wasn’t human. I’m not strong, I don’t have sharp teeth or turn furry, so how could they? I was hardly ever around any plants, and if I ever gave anything energy, I made sure no one was watching me. I don’t think Chaton is registered either.”
Her fingers curled around her mug as if it would anchor her. “What?” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.
“He was shipped here from France. Illegally. I don’t think anyone knows he’s in the country. Authorities, I mean.”
She stared. “He… what?”
Rue grimaced. It was not his story to tell. “He grew up with his grandmother in France. When she died, his family sold him because of his latency.”
“They what!” The volume of her words shook the house, and Rue winced.
Before he could find his voice again, there was a knock on the door, followed by the sound of it opening, and a man came into view. He moved too fast. “Gertrude!”
Rue didn’t have a chance to move before he filled the doorway to the kitchen, and he was back to being unable to breathe. A vampire. Sharp teeth were peeking out as he spoke.
“It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?” Gertrude tensed, and Rue looked between them. The man was dark and ominous, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, and with a five o’clock shadow.
“I went to check the spot, and someone has dug her up.”
Rue whimpered. Her? Dark, almost black eyes turned his way, and Rue shrank in the chair. Dug what?
“Come. Let’s go somewhere else.” Gertrude got up and grabbed the man’s arm. “We’ll talk later, Rue.”

About Holly Day 

According to Holly Day, no day should go by uncelebrated and all of them deserve a story. If she’ll have the time to write them remains to be seen. She lives in rural Sweden with a husband, four children, more pets than most, and wouldn’t last a day without coffee.  

Holly gets up at the crack of dawn most days of the week to write gay romance stories. She believes in equality in fiction and in real life. Diversity matters. Representation matters. Visibility matters. We can change the world one story at the time.  

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