“I– I don’t know–” Kieran choked. “That–… salve… Does– it happen to have coconut in it?”
Frowning, I fished out the tin. And then I saw it. “Oh, shit. Coconut oil. Is that related to–?” I was hesitant to reference it, as Kara was right there, but what I was thinking of was that the Methusilla vampires of ‘the other plane’ were allergic to chocolate. Nope, not garlic. Chocolate. Don’t ask, I don’t know why either.
fictive
Champagne would always taste like freedom, like the Tuesdays I spent without April. I opened my eyes and saw Kaspar beside my bed at Ethniu’s, pouring me a glass in a flute. It motioned for me to raise my glass, then it clinked it with his own. “I’ve heard tell that you’ve been liberated from monogamy at last! This calls for a celebration!”
Living Fiction 