My Blood Approves: Updated Edition, page 1
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
MY BLOOD APPROVES. Copyright © 2010 by Amanda Hocking. All rights reserved.
Third Edition © 2022 by Amanda Hocking. All rights reserved.
www.hockingbooks.com
Table of Contents
Other Books by Amanda Hocking
A Note from the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
About the Author
Other Books by Amanda Hocking
My Blood Approves Saga
My Blood Approves
Fate
Flutter
Wisdom
Swear
Letters to Elise (Prequel Novella)
Little Tree (Short Story)
My Blood Approves: Complete Saga (eBook Bundle)
Seven Fallen Hearts
Virtue
Tristitia
Superbia (Coming Winter 2022/2023)
Trylle Saga
Switched
Torn
Ascend
Frostfire
Ice Kissed
Crystal Kingdom
The King’s Games: A Short Story
The Lost City
The Morning Flower
The Ever After
Watersong Saga
Wake
Lullaby
Tidal
Elegy
Forgotten Lyrics: A Short Story
The Hollows
Hollowland
Hollowmen
The Hollows: A Graphic Novel
Valkyrie Duology
Between the Blade and the Heart
From the Earth to the Shadows
Stand Alone Novels
Freeks
Bestow the Darkness
A Note from the Author
These novels were originally published in 2010. When I wrote them, I was still in my early twenties, and I had a lot of internalized issues that I hadn’t confronted yet. While much of the original book was a fun vampire romp, there were also unfortunate moments of misogyny, body-shaming, and ablism, among other problematic elements.
That led me to have a difficult relationship with these books. When I was first writing the My Blood Approves Saga, I loved it completely. After I published it, I read a few reviews that eviscerated the books. Some of the complaints were justified (calling out the problematic issues) but it was still a jarring experience for me.
It took me a long time to be able to feel the original love and enthusiasm I had for Alice and her complicated world of vampire. Especially once I knew there were legitimate issues with the books.
So, I decided to re-edit them. I have left the overall story intact as often as possible, but I re-worked so much of the internalized hatred that Alice feels and how she expresses herself. The largest changes take place in Alice’s friendship with Jane and with Jane herself. When I was re-reading the books and editing them, I was genuinely surprised by how cruel Alice (and I, as the writer) were to her. I tried to fix that and show that Jane is a three-dimensional young woman and decent friend to Alice.
These are still imperfect books, but they are definitely kinder ones now. I have fallen in love with them (and Jack and Peter and Ezra) all over again, and I hope that you will, too.
For you long time readers, thank you for sticking with me all these years, and for allowing me to grow and change.
For new readers, thank you for giving me a chance, and I hope you find some happiness in these pages
Chapter One
The goose bumps stood all over Jane’s shoulder and she stomped her foot, at least partially because of the cold. She claimed it was only because of her frustration over the line and insist that chain smoking cigarettes kept her warm.
“This is truly infuriating,” Jane said, flicking her cigarette to the dampened sidewalk and smashing it with her stilettoed boot.
“Maybe we should just call it a night,” I suggested.
Our fake IDs had not been as impressive as Jane’s connection had promised, and this would be the third club we’d be turned away from, if we ever managed to make it to the door.
Since we were going out, I had allowed Jane to dress me, so everything was ill-fitting and far too revealing for the Minnesota night. A heavy mist settled over us, but she refused to shiver or admit that any of this fazed her. Her plan was to get crazy drunk and hook up with somebody completely random, and I couldn’t reason with her.
“No!” Jane shook her head. “I have a good feeling about this place.”
“It’s after midnight, Jane.” The pair of heels I borrowed from her were damaging my feet, and I shifted my weight to ease the pain.
“I just want to dance and be stupid!” She started whining, making her seem much younger than seventeen so we’d be even less likely to get into the club. “Come on! This is what being young is all about!”
“I really hope not,” I muttered. Waiting in line for hours and getting declined from clubs did not sound like a good time. “We can try again next weekend. I promise. It’ll give us more time to find better ID’s.”
Her expression had gone all pouty, but I knew that she was starting to cave. Sighing, she stepped out of line and headed in the direction towards my apartment, away from the bright lights of the clubs and drunken people smoking.
“But you owe me, Bonham,” she said, calling me by my last name the way she tended to do. She claimed that Alice sounded like a child’s name, whereas Bonham sounded cool, but that seemed like an odd take from someone named Jane.
“Why do I owe you?” I demanded.
“For making me leave early.”
We’d made it a few feet from the line when I couldn’t take it any longer. I stopped and ripped off the borrowed shoes, preferring to walk barefoot on the dirty cement than risk any more blisters. Most likely, I’d get gum or something in a fresh wound and end up with typhoid or rabies, but it still seemed like a better option.
We walked far enough away from the clubs where it started to feel deserted, and two teenage girls strolling around in downtown Minneapolis wasn’t the safest thing in the world.
“We should get a cab,” I suggested.
Jane shook her head, negating cab ideas. I lived by Loring Park, which really wasn’t that far from where we were, but it still wasn’t within walking distance, especially with my aching bare feet.
A green and white taxi sailed past us, and I gazed longingly after it.
“We need the exercise anyway,” Jane said, noticing my expression.
I don’t know why I ever agreed to her shenanigans. They were always much more fun for her then they were for me. Being her sidekick wasn’t a very glamorous life.
“But my feet hurt,” I said.
“Beauty is—”
“—pain, yeah, yeah, I get it,” I grumbled, cutting her off.
Jane lit another cigarette, and we went on in silence. I knew she was sulking about the club and trying to plot some exciting adventure to drag me into, but I wouldn’t fall for it this time.
The sound of the traffic from Hennepin Avenue had faded enough where I could hear footfalls echo behind us. Jane seemed oblivious, but I couldn’t shake the feeling we were being followed.
Then the footsteps behind us hastened, becoming heavier and louder, combined with the sound of ragged breathing and hushed male voices.
Jane looked over at me, and the panic in her eyes meant that she heard them too. Out of the two of us, she was braver and stole a look back over her shoulder.
I was about to ask her what she saw when she sprinted forward, and that was answer enough for me. I tried to catch up to her, but she was taller and faster, remaining a few steps ahead.
The street ended with a parking garage. Jane ran into it, and I followed her. There had to be other places with crowds, but her first choice had been a dimly lit underground parking garage.
I allowed myself a look back for the first time. In the darkness, I could see little more than the silhouettes of four large men. When they saw me looking at them, one of them started to cat call.
I ran forward, only to realize Jane wasn’t in front of me. I didn’t have a very good fight or flight reflex, so I froze when I didn’t see her.
“Over here, Bonham!” Jane whisper-shouted.
The echo in the garage was awful. I couldn’t tell where her voice was coming from, so I just stayed underneath a flickering yellow light and hoped that my death would be quick and painless.
“Hey little girl,” one of the guys purred in a voice that sounded anything but friendly.
I turned to face them. Since I had stopped running, they had lost their urgency and moved slowly, predatorily, as they enclosed on me.
“Do you always run from a g ood time?” another one asked. For some reason, the rest of them thought that was hilarious, and their laughter filled the garage.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I opened my mouth to say something, maybe even scream, but nothing came out. I stood in a pool of cold water and oil, and the light above me decided to go out for good.
Closing my eyes against the dark, I didn’t want to risk seeing anything they did to me. They talked amongst themselves, laughing and making perverted jokes, and I knew I was going to die.
Somewhere behind me, I heard the screech of tires, but I just squeezed my eyes shut tighter.
Chapter Two
“Hey! What are you doing?” Someone shouted to the side of me with a voice that was powerful and weirdly calming. As soon as I heard him speak, I somehow knew that he wasn’t one of my would-be assailants, and I opened my eyes.
A car had pulled in the parking space to my right, shining the bright headlights past me
“What’s it to you?” one of the aggressors shouted back.
“I think you should just go on your way,” the calming voice said.
I tried to get a look at him, but the shadows from the headlights kept him hidden. I couldn’t really make out anything, except that he wore a bright pink tee shirt.
He took another step forward, and the angry quartet of guys moved toward him in response. They weren’t moving very fast, and then suddenly, the blur of the pink shirt rushed them.
The darkness and my fear couldn’t let me trust my eyesight anymore. Because from where I stood, it looked as if the pink shirt was moving faster than humanly possible, and the guys yelled in surprise and pain, before they went flying out of the garage.
I blinked, and then everyone was gone.
Not everyone, I quickly realized.
The light above me flickered on again, and the guy in the pink shirt stood next to me. In big black letters across his chest, his shirt read, “Real men wear pink.”
He appeared only a few years older than me, maybe in his early twenties, and he wasn’t particularly muscular or tall. In fact, he leaned more towards wiry than he did brawny, and his face was open and friendly with an easy smile. I couldn’t imagine what about him had frightened off my prospective attackers.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he reached me.
“Yeah,” I said, with my voice embarrassingly shaky and breathless from the recent events. “You saved my life.”
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he replied, completely ignoring the fact that he’d done anything heroic.
“My friend Jane is around here somewhere,” I said, suddenly remembering that she was here in the parking garage, and I glanced around for her.
Part of me was angry that she had done nothing to save me, but then again, neither had I, and I didn’t think that I should hold her to a higher standard than I did myself.
He took his turn scanning the garage, and then pointed to something by a van on the far side. “I think I see her over there.”
“Where?” I squinted at where he pointed but couldn’t make out anything in the dark.
“Over there,” he repeated, taking a step towards the black Jetta parked next to me. “Come on. We’ll go over and pick her up, and then I’ll give you guys a ride.”
I walked around to the passenger side of the car, and it never occurred to me to say no. Something about him made me trust him.
His car stereo played Weezer, and in the glow of the blue dashboard lights, I got my first real good look at him. His skin looked flawless, but his sandy hair was perfectly disheveled. His jaw was sharp, his eyes were powdery blue, and his full lips never seemed far from a smile. He was definitely handsome, in a laidback, effortless sort of way.
He sped off across the parking lot, and I pulled my eyes away from him to look out the window. Jane was crouched behind a white van, hiding with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees.
He pulled up beside her and rolled down his window. “Jane?” he asked.
Reluctantly, she lifted her head to look at him. I expected her to be afraid, maybe even bolt and run after what had just happened. But her fear immediately dissolved into the strangest look. Her mouth was lax, and her eyes were wide as if in awe.
“Hi,” Jane said, managing to sound both nervous and flirty at the same time.
I leaned over, ignoring his proximity as best as I could, so Jane could see me. “Jane, he’s giving us a ride.”
“Okay.” She smiled, looking relieved and a little excited. Within a moment, she was up and sliding into the backseat.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“I’m great,” Jane said, and her eyes were locked on the driver. “Who’s your friend here?”
“I don’t actually know,” I admitted, belatedly realizing I had just told Jane to get in a car with someone who is a complete stranger to both of us.
“I’m Jack,” he said, filling in the blank. “And you’re Jane.” Then turned to me. “And you are?”
“Alice.”
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I could really go for a cup of coffee right about now.” Jack dropped the car into gear and sped off without waiting for either of us to respond. It wasn’t really a question anyway, and neither one of us would’ve protested.
“Is this Weezer?” I asked, just to say something as we drove.
Jack nodded. “I saw them when they were on tour with Motion City Soundtrack.”
“That is so cool,” I said. “I really like them. How are they live?”
“Pretty good,” Jack said just as he turned sharply into the parking lot outside an all-night diner.
When we got out of the car, Jane hurried over to him and looped her arm through his. While she had never been one to shy away from flirting, Jane didn’t usually latch onto someone the moment we met them, and this seemed a bit much.
Making things more confounding was that Jane usually preferred bad boys with tattoos and leather. Jack had on a pair of Dickies shorts, skater socks, and light blue Converse, along with the pink tee shirt. He more closely resembled cotton candy than he did an object of Jane’s affection.
“Oh crap,” I said after I’d gotten out of the car and my bare feet touched the rough asphalt. Blisters and oil covered them, and I couldn’t imagine cramming my swollen feet back into Jane’s shoes.
“What?” Jack asked, and then followed my gaze down. “Oh. Just don’t wear shoes.”
“I can’t not wear shoes.” I didn’t see much of another option, but I couldn’t go into a restaurant without shoes.
“We could skip the coffee and just head home, if you’re not up for it,” Jane offered, but she sounded disappointed at the thought of calling it a night already.
“No, you’ll be fine,” Jack insisted. “If they hassle you, I’ll take care of them.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked, but he’d already convinced me. After all, I’d seen the way he chased off a group of unruly guys. The graveyard shift at a knock-off Denny’s wouldn’t stand a chance.
Once we went inside, it went as he’d predicted, and nobody noticed my lack of footwear. In fact, nobody noticed me, or even Jane. The hostess kept her eyes completely focused on Jack as she led us to a booth.
He sat down first, and Jane slid up next to him, so he kept moving over until he was up against the window. I sat down across from them, and Jack rested his arms on the table.
A waitress appeared a second later, and while her question was to all of us, her eyes were fixed on Jack. “What can I get you?”
“Just coffee,” he answered. “Or did you two want something else?”
“Coffee’s fine,” I said, because the night had left me without an appetite for much of anything.
“The coffee is all we need for now,” Jane told the waitress when she lingered at our table, and she left to get our order.
There was something strange going on, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Jack was attractive, definitely, but was that enough to enrapture everyone who crossed his path? Other patrons, waitstaff, Jane, everyone couldn’t seem to help but stare.
“Are you famous or something?” I blurted out, and Jane visibly cringed beside him.
