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A match made in… outer space. When things at Absolution, the bar on space station The Salvation take a turn for the strange, witch Penelope Hardacre is thrust into the wacky world of matchmaking. Without the meddling of bar owner Geraldine’s alternate personality, it should have all been so easy. But, weres with weres, vamps with vamps, fairies with fairies… Penny’s ordered to pair them all without choice.
Is she willing to compromise all of her morals to maintain her safety from Gerald, and what should she do with her best friend Vincent—the kind of fanged best friend who makes her feel safe and loved…and jealous? Onboard The Salvation, two by two won’t be quite what Noah had in mind.
She steeled herself against another sneeze until her eyes watered, then she shook her head. The creeping, crawling irritation under her skin brought a wave of reminders of spells gone wrong because of the distraction of a sudden itch or sneeze she couldn’t stifle.
“Not at all. I can’t imagine you’d know the difference between a therapist and a hooker because I have no doubt your claims of experience—no, expertise—as a lurve machine are much exaggerated.” She plucked the lemon wedge from the edge of his glass and bit into the flesh as she wrinkled her nose again.
His gaze danced over her face, and his eyes flashed with either amusement or danger…or desire.
She shivered a little in the warm room.
“Just let it go, silly girl. Sneezes are like orgasms. An unstoppable force—though hardly a…delight.” He watched another drip making its way back to his drink from his nail, apparently bored with their conversation.
But she knew better. “Whatcha drinkin’, my vampire friend?” She cooed the words as she twirled her hair around her finger in a playful gesture designed to annoy him as much as he’d irritated her, and nearly let loose a giggle as his expression turned sour.
His eyes flared red for a second at her words. “Something you wouldn’t like.”
“Perhaps you mistake my love of tomatoes.” She kept her flirtatious tone in place and leant to rest her hand on his arm.
He bumped his fist against the table. “Keep your voice down, angelcakes. Can’t a man abide by his principles in peace?”
Glancing out at the dark sky and the pin-prick stars stretching into the unknown distance, she sighed. “A man, Vincent? I thought you’d got over that pipe dream.”
“I am a man.” He ground out the words.
“You’re a vegan vampire, trapped on an old heap of a space station for maybe the rest of your days. That’s a long time.” She spared a look for his tomato juice. “Although maybe not quite so long if you were to give in to your basic instincts and get rid of anyone who annoyed you—which is everyone. At least then you’d be alone with your indignity and plant-based thirst-quenchers.”
He let loose a short, mirthless laugh. “Just me, you, and tomatoes. And you’re a witch who can’t do magic without sneezing and breaking out in an itchy rash.” He shrugged at her, his grin rueful. “What a pair we make.”
What a pair indeed.