“Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. Conscience drove him to this side of the world, to this bed. Mike and Shari sat at the kitchen table eating potato chips. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. Babies produced of vampire women are the real monsters, Lucia. To my loving parents and brothers, and my Aunts, Gail and Barb. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. "I wanted you to know.
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