Night Moves (The Night Songs Collection)

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E.M. Tippetts Book Designs

What readers are saying about

Strassel’s writing takes off from the first page of this novel and doesn’t stop until the very end. Her approachable and vividly charismatic writing paints this enticing world right before your eyes.

—Pure Jonel

Kristen's books aren't for the faint of heart, but if you enjoy vampires, rock bands, and a dark edge, I recommend grabbing a copy and diving in for a thrill.

—Psychocat Reviews

Books by Kristen Strassel

Night Songs Collection

Seasons in the Sun
(Night Songs Collection #0.5)

Because the Night
(Night Songs Collection #1)

Night Moves
(Night Songs Collection #2)

We Own the Night
(Night Songs Collection #3)

Silent Night
(Night Songs Collection #4)

For my writing partner and partner in crime, Julie Hutchings, who saw these stories grow from scribbles in a notebook to real, live books.

“N
ine to fourteen inches!” Jamie nudged me with his foot from the far end of the couch. “I can’t wait!”

“That’s what she said.” I peeked at him over my laptop and we both burst out laughing.

“Dude, they are going to be shutting this state down! You’re totally going to have the day off tomorrow.” Jamie swayed back and forth to the beat in his own head.

“Wouldn’t that be awesome?” God, I hoped so. The bank I worked at never called off work for anything. Everyone in my department was considered an essential employee. “We didn’t get to try out the hill at all last year.” There was a huge hill, just outside our apartment building, perfect for sledding. Last year we didn’t get any snow. “You should go to Benny’s tomorrow and get sleds.”

“Yes. That’s what I’m talking about. We’ll run those little fuckers that live across the street right off the hill.” Jamie got up to grab a pen and paper. “What else do we need?”

“Hot cocoa, and something to mix in it.” I tapped my finger against my chin then smiled at him. “And condoms.”

Jamie dropped to his knees. “Thanks be to Jesus.”

Now it was my turn to kick at him while he bowed at my feet. “It hasn’t been that long.”

“My darling Melanie, my sweet darling Melanie. The box I had withered and blew away in a strong breeze.”

“You’re a brat.” I put down the laptop beside me and slid off the couch so I almost landed in his lap. “I hate that stupid job. I just want to hang out with you. Maybe it will snow forever.”

“Quit.” He whispered in my ear, then nibbled on my neck. I gasped, it felt so good and it had been way too long. This had been the most contact we’d had in weeks.

“Soon. I hope.” I pulled him in closer to me. But enough about work right now. We had more important things to figure out. “What do you want me to wear under my snowsuit?”

Jamie moaned, peeling himself away from my neck just long enough to answer. “Do you still have that red lacy bra and panty set?”

“I bought a garter belt and stockings to go with it.”

He looked up at me, his eyebrows high. “And I’m finding out about this now?”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“I want you to make snow angels in nothing but that outfit.”

“I’ll get frostbite.”

We stopped kissing only to watch the updated weather report. Now they were calling for fourteen to eighteen inches. Everything was working in our favor.

Jamie picked up where he left off when the report went to commercial. I shied away from him and he groaned in frustration.

“I just need to get this done.” I’d totally killed the moment. “Tomorrow, I promise.”

This storm was just what we needed. Now I just had to pray I got the day off.

“A
re they ever going to let us out of here?” I asked Stacia in the next cubicle. She never talked to any of us, so she just shrugged. The governor had ordered everyone off the roads by four that afternoon. The snow stuck to the huge window at the end of the room, and the cars below were being swallowed in snowdrifts. I just hoped I’d be able to find mine when we finally got to leave.

“They don’t give a shit about what the governor says.” Pat, my savior at this place, rolled his eyes as he took out his headphones. “You know they all have suites at the Holiday Inn across the street.”

“After three wine coolers, they’ll all be sucking each other’s faces off.” I shuddered at the visual. “It’s like the highlight of their lives.”

Financial consultations for the obnoxiously rich were far too important to be interrupted by little things like natural disasters. The office manager, Lydia the Lion as Pat and I called her behind her back, actually said, “Hardy New Englanders shouldn’t freak out over a foot or two of snow.” Out loud. Of course, she just had to walk to her hotel room and fall in bed with Lloyd in the mortgage department.

I had someone else to be falling in bed with.

“Really looking forward to bumper car derby all over Route Three. I need to get home,” I said, foot tapping.

I had a promise to make good on. Before last night, Jamie had already been striking a big red line through every day on the calendar in our kitchen. When I asked him what his countdown was for, he told me it was a count of the days since we’d had sex.