Pretty Plastic (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 26,683
0 Ratings (0.0)

Three months after his run-in with the vampire Marcus Gråsson, Christopher’s ankle has healed but his life is anything but perfect. There are people watching the house. Flora’s worried about the scarecrow. And after an unexpected tragedy strikes, Christopher will need to figure out how to deal with the loss without tearing a rift between his brother and himself.

When Victor accepts a job with Pretty, a prestigious private hospital, to work alongside the handsome Austen Poole, Christopher ends up with one more thing to worry about. While it might seem like a dream job, there’s something not quite right in paradise, and when Vic starts acting strangely, Christopher will stop at nothing to get his man back.

When striving for perfection, you sometimes need to get your hands a little dirty.

Pretty Plastic (MM)
0 Ratings (0.0)

Pretty Plastic (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 26,683
0 Ratings (0.0)
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“Weird.” Jesse sat behind the cash register of Things in the Attic on the same tall stool I’d sat on when I’d owned the place. It was still strange to be on the other side of the counter. “I’ve never even heard of it.”

“Me either. And it just ... doesn’t seem like a job Vic would find fulfilling. Not in the long term.”

“How do you know?”

It was a legitimate question.

“I guess I don’t.” I adjusted my position, moving to rest an elbow on the armrest of a surprisingly uncomfortable faded pink Bregère chair, sending dust into the air like talcum powder. It worried me, knowing the baby was asleep in an infant seat just feet away on the counter. “Not really.”

“You think it’s hotter dating an ER surgeon.” It was a statement, and Jesse smiled sweetly at me. Bitch. She wasn’t wrong.

“I didn’t say that. He can work wherever he wants to work.”

“Who?” Jesse and I both turned at Grant’s voice as he emerged from the back room. I’d been listening to his stumbling around on the metal grating of the dock for the last couple of minutes.

“Grant.” Jesse hopped down from her stool and retrieved a cart of dishes she had tucked just inside the office door. “I had no idea you were even here. I need you to put these dishes in the window display. I sold the set that was there this morning. I haven’t gotten around to it, and I need to head out for Mia’s pediatrician appointment in a few minutes.”

“Yeah, sure.” He took the cart from Jesse, abandoning it just as quickly to stand at the glass counter and coo at the baby. “So, who’s getting a new job?”

“Vic. He’s been offered a chief surgeon position at some place called Pretty.” I felt stupid just saying the name.

“Shit.” Grant let out a whistle. “That’s high-end.”

“You’ve heard of it?” Jesse and I asked in unison.

“Yeah. I’ve been there with Lee a few times.” Of course. If anyone would know the place, it would be Lee Hellstrom. “Before…you know…there was a while he was thinking about some kind of skin rejuvenation thingy or a facelift. They have these lamps or something that heal all the incisions and shit up in just a couple days.” Yeah, I doubted it. “And it’s fancy as fuck. All hot ladies with great racks and hotter guys with perfect eyebrows. You know the kind of place.”

No. I really didn’t. But it did remind me of one of the reasons I’d come by.

“You know, Grant, I think I’ve met the perfect man for you.” Maybe if I could throw Grant into Austen’s path, he would get over his little infatuation with Victor. And I would rest a little easier. “He’s a nurse. Very attractive.”

“No thanks, man.”

“Really?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. Grant was a notorious man-whore. But in a charming, non-shaming kind of way.

“Yep. I’m totally in love, dude. It’s real meant-to-be, romance kind of stuff.”

I looked at Jesse, and she gave me a wide-eyed look back and nodded her head.

“Congratulations.” Goddammit. “Who’s the lucky ...?” I trailed off.

“Dalton” Jesse supplied. “He owns the flower shop up the street. Short? Cute? You remember?”

“Grant the romantic. Never thought I’d see the day.” Jesus, was I starting to get misty-eyed?

“I know.” Grant grinned. “And he’s super loud in bed.”

Nope. False alarm.

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