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Back The Hollows Series
Chapters (154)
  1. THE HOLLOW SERIES BOOKS 1–4
  2. Contents
  3. Dead Witch Walking
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Fourteen
  20. Fifteen
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-One
  27. Twenty-Two
  28. Twenty-Three
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. Twenty-Five
  31. Twenty-Six
  32. Twenty-Seven
  33. Twenty-Eight
  34. Twenty-Nine
  35. Thirty
  36. Thirty-One
  37. Thirty-Two
  38. Thirty-Three
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Acknowledgements
  41. The Good, The Bad and The Undead
  42. Dedication
  43. One
  44. Two
  45. Three
  46. Four
  47. Five
  48. Six
  49. Seven
  50. Eight
  51. Nine
  52. Ten
  53. Eleven
  54. Twelve
  55. Thirteen
  56. Fourteen
  57. Fifteen
  58. Sixteen
  59. Seventeen
  60. Eighteen
  61. Nineteen
  62. Twenty
  63. Twenty-One
  64. Twenty-Two
  65. Twenty-Three
  66. Twenty-Four
  67. Twenty-Five
  68. Twenty-Six
  69. Twenty-Seven
  70. Twenty-Eight
  71. Twenty-Nine
  72. Acknowledgements
  73. Every Which Way But Dead
  74. Title Page
  75. Dedication
  76. Contents
  77. One
  78. Two
  79. Three
  80. Four
  81. Five
  82. Six
  83. Seven
  84. Eight
  85. Nine
  86. Ten
  87. Eleven
  88. Twelve
  89. Thirteen
  90. Fourteen
  91. Fifteen
  92. Sixteen
  93. Seventeen
  94. Eighteen
  95. Nineteen
  96. Twenty
  97. Twenty-One
  98. Twenty-Two
  99. Twenty-Three
  100. Twenty-Four
  101. Twenty-Five
  102. Twenty-Six
  103. Twenty-Seven
  104. Twenty-Eight
  105. Twenty-Nine
  106. Thirty
  107. Thirty-One
  108. Thirty-Two
  109. Thirty-Three
  110. Acknowledgements
  111. A Fistful of Charms
  112. A FISTFUL OF CHARMS
  113. Dedication
  114. Contents
  115. One
  116. Two
  117. Three
  118. Four
  119. Five
  120. Six
  121. Seven
  122. Eight
  123. Nine
  124. Ten
  125. Eleven
  126. Twelve
  127. Thirteen
  128. Fourteen
  129. Fifteen
  130. Sixteen
  131. Seventeen
  132. Eighteen
  133. Nineteen
  134. Twenty
  135. Twenty-One
  136. Twenty-Two
  137. Twenty-Three
  138. Twenty-Four
  139. Twenty-Five
  140. Twenty-Six
  141. Twenty-Seven
  142. Twenty-Eight
  143. Twenty-Nine
  144. Thirty
  145. Thirty-One
  146. Thirty-Two
  147. Thirty-Three
  148. Thirty-Four
  149. Thirty-Five
  150. Acknowledgements
  151. Keep Reading
  152. Also by the Author
  153. About the Author
  154. About the Publisher

My eyes slid shut at the concern in his voice. He had wanted to come over last night, and I appreciated that he hadn’t when I asked him not to. “I’m fine,” I said, toying with the idea of telling him that they hadn’t played fair, five alphas binding into a round to give their bitch the advantage in an already unfair fight. But it was so unusual an occurrence that I was afraid he would say I was making it up—and it sounded too much like whining to me.

Instead, I leaned my head against him and took in his scent: a mix of dark leather and silk. He was wearing a black cotton tee that pulled tight across his shoulders, but the aroma of silk and leather remained. With it was the dusky hint of incense that lingered around vampires. I hadn’t identified that particular scent with vamps until I started living with Ivy, but now I could probably tell with my eyes closed whether it was Ivy or Kisten in the room.

Either scent was delicious, and I breathed deeply, willingly taking in the vampire pheromones he was unconsciously giving off to soothe and relax me. It was an adaptation to make finding a willing source of blood easier. Not that Kisten and I were sharing blood. Not me. Not this little witch. No how or ever. The risk of becoming a plaything—my will given to a vampire—was too real. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the mild buzz.

I could hear his heartbeat, and I lingered while his fingers traced a yummy path to the small of my back. My forehead came to his shoulder, lower than usual, since he was in boots and I was in socks. His exhaled breath stirred my hair. The sensation brought my head up, and I met his blue eyes squarely from under his long bangs, reading in the normal- sized pupils that he had slaked his blood lust before coming over. He usually did.

“I like it when you smell like dirt,” he said, his eyes half-lidded and sly.

Smiling, I ran a fingernail down his rough cheek. He had a small nose and chin, and he usually kept a day’s worth of stubble to give himself a more rugged cast. His hair was dyed blond to match his almost-beard, though I had yet to catch him with darker roots or a charm to color it. “What’s the real color of your hair?” I asked impulsively as I played with the wispy strands at the nape of his neck.

He pulled away, blinking in surprise. Two slices of toast popped up, and he shifted to the counter, bringing out a plate and setting the bread on it. “Ah, it’s blond.”