The wedding was perfect. Her dress fit perfectly. Her mascara didn’t run when she cried reading her vows. There were no objections—she feared there might be at least one—and the caterer was on time.
Now as they waltz their first dance together as man and wife in the center of the reception hall, surrounded by adoring family and loving friends, she whispers in his ear, “I’m gonna eat you up.”
He chuckles. He doesn’t know.
Later that night, in their honeymoon suite, she mounts him and bares her fangs, drawing first blood with a nibble on the neck.
© Nortina Simmons