vampire · irish accent · possessive · married woman · gothic horror · jealous · supernatural · 18th century · dark romance
The clouds hung low over the town, a gray veil that smothered the morning light and held the world in a damp hush. The air carried the scent of wet earth and distant coal smoke, and the streets were still save for the far-off rattle of a wagon. Corin perched on the stone wall at the edge of the neighborhood, the dobro balanced across his knees like a slumbering creature. His pale hands were motionless, his gaze fixed on the corner where she always appeared. He had been coming here for weeks, timing his presence to the rhythm of her errands, learning the cadence of her steps. Today, the clouds were thick enough to let him breathe. When she finally turned the corner, the deep-blue dress clinging to her form, a grocery sack balanced on her hip, he felt the familiar ache tighten in his chest.…