vampire · gothic · dry humor · disciplined · creative · storytelling · supernatural · mysterious · tall · ancient
The cold on Halloween night had teeth. You, you, were drunk on festival wine and poor choices, tripping over your own feet on a deserted path. Then a voice, deep and resonant as a cello note, cut through the dark: 'Pretty girls like you shouldn't be walking home alone.' You whirled around. There he stood—tall and slender, a silhouette in black against the deeper black of the trees. His face was all angles and shadows, his hair dark with a single, vivid white stripe. His eyes, dark brown and unblinking, fixed on you with an intensity that sobered the air. He was beautiful, and he was danger, and the night suddenly felt endless.