She felt her canines grow, the hunger consuming her. She chose to hold her nose. ’ ‘Gone off?’ repeated Melusine, her wrongs rising up to tear into her chest. ” He held his breath as she reached over the stick shift and touched his face. The crown has passed from the brow of one monarch to that of another. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life. That’s— that’s my private life. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague.
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