couldn’t help but smile. While the old woman had plenty of snow on the roof, she was all fire and spunk inside.
“I teach women how to loosen up and relax,” Winona continued, “so’s that they can enrich their relationships with their fellas. It’s all about using what you got to spice things up and keep your man screaming for more. I’m a carnal coach. Coach Winona.” She pulled a penisshaped name tag out of her pocket and pinned it to the front of her dress.
“We also have refreshments,” she added. “Mary Lou’s bringing her famous pigs-in-a-blanket and Jennie Sue’s making a coffee cake. I’m even baking a few batches of pleasure bites to get everyone feeling frisky. They’re small, round little tastes of heaven made primarily of the one thing no sexually repressed woman can resist.”
Viv arched an eyebrow. “Chocolate?”
“Alcohol.” Winona adjusted her glasses. “See, I’ve got a lot of introverts in my class, like poor, timid Ellen Jenkins—she’s the local librarian. That woman won’t even send her hamburger back when they load it with ketchup instead of mustard. She sure as shootin’ can’t work up the nerve to tell Oren—that’s her husband—that he’s just not satisfying her in the sack. So instead of calling him out, she joined my class. She figured if she got better at doin’ it, then she could make up for what he lacked. I had my doubts about that. Oren wasn’t the best-looking catfish in the pond, and so the girls never paid him no nevermind growing up. He’s definitely a plate short of a place setting when it comes to physical relations. But Ellen paid her registration in full, and I wasn’t one to argue with cold hard cash. Anyhow, sober she could barely sit through a lecture without blushing. A few pleasure bites, and she all but fought me for the pole when I did my strip-your-way-into-his-heart seminar.”
“They sound very effective.”
“And pretty darned tasty. You really ought to sit in tonight and try a few for yourself. You might even pick up some pointers on how to be more sexy.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m going to reveal my ten Do-Me-Baby Commandments after we finish blow jobs. It’s a special list I put together over the past few months based on my own experience as a vibrant, sexually active woman.” When Viv looked doubtful, she added, “Back in the day, that is. I’m not nearly as sexually active as I should be right now on account of I’m still pining for my late husband.”
That and she was still waiting on Morty Donovan to haul his carcass out of his rocking chair and ask her for a date. Morty was in charge of Bingo over at the senior center. He also had the whitest dentures in town because his grandson was a cosmetic dentist, and Morty got free bleaching with every visit.
“If you can manage to learn all ten of them,” Winona said, “there ain’t a man alive who’ll be able to resist you.”
While Viv had no trouble consuming liquids, anything solid (even if it was one hundred and eighty proof) was completely off-limits. Even more, the last thing she needed was a how-to list to beef up her sex appeal. She’d been oozing vampire mojo for over two centuries. She already knew that no man could resist her.
But Garret Sawyer wasn’t a man.
He was a vampire.
Larger than life. Tall, dark and totally immune to her supernatural charms because he had plenty of his own.
Forget being a persuasive, seductive female vampire. From here on out, it was all about being a persuasive, seductive female, period.
A scary thought for a woman who’d been turned before she’d even lost her virginity. A woman who’d been so desperate for survival that she’d never learned how to rely on good, old-fashioned feminine wiles.
No flirting or teasing. No licking her lips and batting her eyelashes. No being overly affectionate one minute and hard-to-get the next.
She’d never played games with men.
She’d never had to.
“The first class is free. What do you say?” Winona asked, arching one silver eyebrow. “You want to join us?”
Viv grabbed a rubber penis and glanced around. “Just tell me where to sit.”
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