Chapter One
Shelley
Another freaking lunatic.
After a year in business running a dating agency, I still got frustrated by pranksters or insane people who wrote out ridiculous application forms. This loser obviously had nothing better to do as he had filled out the entire questionnaire extensively. Most morons put a stupid name like Superman and then followed it up with swear words as the answer to every question. Seeing as this one had made an effort, and it was Monday morning and my coffee hadn’t sunk in yet, I decided to sit back and read it. Perhaps I’d print it off for when I wrote my book at the end of my dating agency career, Confessions of a Matchmaker.
Name: Theodore Robert Landry
Date of birth: 1 January 1891
Age: 126
Hair: Black
Skin colour: Alabaster
Height: Six feet two inches.
Weight: Perfect.
Any distinguishing features? I’m a vampyre, so fangs?
Place of Birth: Goodacres Farm, Withernsea, East Yorkshire
Current address: The Basement, 27 Sea View Road, Withernsea. (I was thrown out of my place of birth on becoming a vampire. I’m on a quest to win my home back, but currently my duel has not been accepted. They keep sending a policeman around asking me to desist).
Any family history of note: All deceased, I was the only family member to survive. The rest of my family were drained of their blood. It was difficult at first but it’s true time is a healer. I think fondly of them now. It’s quite usual for a newly turned vampire to kill their family members by accident.
Favourite food: A classic O-neg, preferably drunk straight from the source. I note you don’t ask blood type on your application. That may be something for you to consider for future.
Ideal dating venue: Can only be after 8pm up until 4am to be on the safe side. A nice, dark environment such as a park, graveyard, nightclub, restaurant (I can eat human food, but it has no calorific value for me) would be ideal.
Reason for Application
I have been trying to find a wife now for several years. I am extremely good looking and have a vast intellect due to my many years on this earth. Unfortunately, when I discuss the fact my girlfriend would have to be turned into a vampire and be my wife long into the eternal light, they leave. Usually rather rapidly. I am therefore reaching out in these modern times to your dating agency. Your tagline promises to find ‘your ideal partner’. My ideal partner preferably would be a vampire like myself, complete with no heartbeat, but should you not have such members on your books, a beautiful human lady who is willing to be turned would suffice.
Jesus! I clicked on the attached photograph, fully expecting to see a dick pic but instead there was a picture of a pale-faced God-like creature. He couldn’t be real because he was far too fucking hot. It would be a model shot. I quickly did a Google image search of the photo, but nothing came back. Hmm, interesting.
At that point the door burst open, making me upend my still hot coffee down my front. I jumped up and down doing the dance of the scalded, wafting my top and holding it away from my skin. “Oh, God. Oh fucking God. That’s hot. That is fucking hot.”
“Oh my, he is fucking hot,” said my assistant and best friend, Kim, looking at my screen. “You fanning yourself for a coffee burn or for this stud muffin?”
“Want to share why you’re an hour late?” I’d long ago learned to expect Kim when I saw her. She never missed an appointment or meeting but believed her hours were completely flexible.
“I got the chance for a penis power hour, so I took it,” she said, unfazed. “Anyway, go dry your top while I read this application.”
“I’m going to pop to Ebony’s downstairs and buy a new one. Screw it.” Our office was situated above a boutique, on a block that housed a cafe and a pet grooming salon. It was a great mix of female business owners and we had a collective that met monthly, Female Entrepreneurs do it with their colleagues. I’d not had the heart to tell Jax from the cafe that it sounded all kinds of wrong. She was a sensitive soul and likely to close the cafe for a few days if upset, and no one needed a lack of coffee and cake. No one.
I walked down the back stairs, out to the rear of the property and through the front entrance of the shop. Ebony took one look at me and shook her head.
“I know. Kim made me spill my coffee down myself.”
“Oh, honey,” Ebony said in her cut-glass accent. “Kimmy did you a huge favour. That top needs a cremation. RIP to the shapeless v-neck.”
I groaned. Ebony was always trying to give me a makeover, and I just liked to keep things simple. Truthfully, I wasn’t a power suit kind of girl. I preferred to meet clients looking like someone they felt comfortable to chat with intimately. It was through getting to know them that I knew who to match them up with. I was amazing at my job and had one of the most successful dating agencies in England. The irony being that the only person I couldn’t find an ideal date for was myself. Running through my own application there had so far been no one who had measured up as a fit for me. I was awkward and picky and destined to be on my own forever.
“Here we go. This is what we need you in, darling. It will highlight that red hair and pale skin.” Ebony held up a black tight tank top with a red rose on the front. It had an overlay of black netting. It would go with the skinny jeans I was wearing, but goth girl really wasn’t me. I was a jeans and plain tee wearing girl who on the rare occasion she got dressed up would wear floral tea dresses.
“Have you got something else, a little lighter in colour?” I asked.
“No, sorry, I have nothing else in your size.”
I looked around the rest of the well-stocked boutique and raised an eyebrow.
Ebony exuded calm. “All of this stock is pre-ordered. You can only have the top you’re holding.”
I sighed and handed over my credit card and went into the changing rooms to change it over. Looking in the dressing room mirror I saw that Ebony was totally right. It really did suit my complexion. Maybe I should adopt a goth girl persona and start watching The Corpse Bride and wear black lipstick?
Ebony clapped her manicured hands complete with red talons when I emerged from the changing rooms. “Look at you. A vision. Can I curl your hair up a little before you leave?”
“No.” I snapped. “Leave me alone, you’re giving me a complex.”
“Darling, you keep wondering why you’re single and I’m trying to help you. He’s coming you see. The one for you. We need you ready for him.”
I raised an eyebrow again. “Ebony, are you pissed from last night still? How many voddies did you have? Or, do you have a bottle behind the counter again because I’ve told you, it will put customers off if you dance with them. How many times have we had this conversation now?”
Ebony’s gaze darted towards the door, then she lowered her voice. “Look, I will confess all. I drink vodka at times because the thoughts become too much, too intense. If I’m a little mellow, I can cope and they dissipate. Otherwise I get bad migraines. Anyway, I’ve not had any alcohol today, but I’m receiving strong thoughts when you are around. That you must be prepared because your ‘one’ is coming.”
I rubbed at my eyes. It was a day for lunatics. I needed to chat to Kim and Jax about keeping a close eye on Ebony because she seemed a little mentally fragile. It was a struggle to run a business on your own, and maybe she’d reached for the alcohol a few times too many. I decided the best thing to do was to purchase the top and let her do my hair.
She sat me on a stool at the counter and wound my long hair around tongs until I had the most beautiful spiral curls. I would never have taken the time to do this for myself. Ebony reached for some cosmetics that she had displayed under the counter and I was about to protest when her mouth set in a pout. I sighed and let her put makeup on me. I could always call down the corner shop on the next block for some baby wipes to take it off. In the meantime, three customers had come in and were watching Ebony at work. It turned into a makeup class. I felt like I was on freaking QVC.
“Voila. Go back to the changing rooms and see!”
I hopped off the stool and looked at myself in the mirror. I hardly recognised the person looking back. She’d put bronzer on my face and used the cosmetics to give me a healthy glow instead of my usual wan look.
“Okay,” I come back out. “I admit defeat. You’re amazing.”
“I know.” She smiled as she wrapped up makeup sets for the three women who were watching. “You need this.” She holds up a fourth set. “So altogether that’s fifty-three pounds eighty pence with your staff discount.” She waved the credit card I’d handed over earlier and I nodded and watched as she rang me up. I was going to kill Kim. That coffee spill had set me back a small fortune.
I went back upstairs and stood in the doorway. Kim was still sitting in front of my computer.
“So, what do you need me to do…” She paused. “Holy, fuck, where’s Shelley? Seriously, where’s she gone? Who is this beautiful creature in front of me? I’m straight as they come but hell, I reckon I could be persuaded.”
I crossed my arms. “Ebony decided I needed a makeover, and it’s cost me the best part of sixty quid so don’t expect a bonus this month.”
“Hey.” Kim waved her hands in the air. “I wasn’t the one who got so flustered looking at Mr Hot Vampire that I spilled my drink down myself.”
“Oh yes. That reminds me, can you contact him and send him a decline email?”
Kim looked down at the floor. “Oh, where’s my earing gone?”
I gave her a pinched stare. “You don’t have pierced ears, Kim. Sit up straight and look me in the eyes. What have you done?”
“Welllll…” She bit on her lip. “His photo is reaalllly hot, and I thought we didn’t get too many sexy men coming in, so I sent him an appointment for the next stage.”
“You did what?” I screamed. “He’s obviously a complete nutcase. What if he really thinks he’s a vampire and tries to bite one of us?”
“I don’t think he would because he’s an old vampyre, spelled the old-fashioned way. He must have got past that fledgling stage long ago.”
“He’s not a real vampire.”
“I know, but since True Blood finished, I’m desperately missing Eric. Also, Ian Somerhalder got all married and loved up. Let’s interview the hottie. We can just reject him when his true crazy comes out. I really don’t think he’ll try to bite us. Not if he wants us to find him a wife.”
“Kim, could you, as my assistant, please get me another coffee, and a chocolate doughnut. Things are stressful today. Now, what time have you arranged for Mr Landry to come for an interview?”
“I said eight pm, at Hanif’s.”
“Hanif’s? The Indian restaurant?”
“Yes, it’s dark. Mr Landry can’t come out before then.”
“Go get me my coffee. Do not forget the doughnut. In fact, make it two doughnuts. Go now.”
“God, you’re in a mood. Are you jealous cos I got some this morning?”
“A box of doughnuts. A box of twelve.” I shouted after her swinging backside.