Showing results by author "Karla Doyle" in All Categories

At 18, I was a young man winning the game of life. I had a college football scholarship and a cute girlfriend on my arm for my hometown’s annual Halloween party. Forget spiking the punch. The eccentric old scientist who lives in the woods brewed something more potent…and permanently life-altering.

Sent to Screaming Woods to write a magazine piece on its resident monsters, I'm ready to meet hairy beasts, ogres, vampires . . . what I'm not prepared for? A snake man. I'm terrified of snakes. Now I'll have to talk to a man-sized one on a daily basis, because he owns the motel where I'm staying. Once the initial shock of coming face to face with a walking, talking snake passes, I start to see Leroy for the man beneath the monster exterior. And the more I get to know my snake man, the more I realize my biggest fear would be losing him.

I’ve always been the wingman. The great buddy. The teddy-bear guy women lean on. In elementary school, I was the kid passing notes between infatuated classmates. In high school, I was the guy telling a pretty girl that somebody liked her. In college, I was the icebreaker, initiating casual conversation with women in the bar, so that my buddies could ultimately take them home.

I’ve seen enough brokenhearted saps crying over lost love to know love doesn’t really exist. Infatuation, sure. Lust, absolutely. But true love? Please. That’s strictly fiction, folks. Unfortunately, I haven’t convinced my best friend and business partner of that. The guy’s still a believer in happily ever after, despite having met—and lost—“the one” more times than I can count. And that’s pretty damn high, since I’m the numbers guy behind our hot new start-up. Tonight, I wish I had my buddy’s technical skill set.

Nia has one rule—don’t date neighbors. Simple, except the guy next door is single, handsome, and not inclined to close his blinds while naked. When her car dies, Conn takes “being neighborly” to a new level by offering a ride to her long-distance destination. Nia has resisted his looks and charm for months. Surely she can handle a few hours in his truck...For months, Conn has blatantly put himself on display, hoping his pretty blonde neighbor would tire of secretly watching and come knock on his door for a cup of sugar—or more.

No females of my kind remain. Humans have the closest physiology to my species, but our reproductive urges are very different. For their safety, direct contact with human women has always been strictly forbidden. When my time ends, so will countless generations of Gallo lineage. The chains in my dungeon will never have to contain another mating-frenzied beast. I will have done my part to bring a peaceful end to my species while protecting the nearby human population.