My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. " "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. “Of course he may merely have been telling her who we were, but I think it improbable. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. I hope that you did not permit her to feed?” “But I did! I did!” She sobbed. But you belong to me—and I want you. They are our food, Lucia, nothing more. " "What a strange history is mine!" said Thames. There was something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of her features. “Why?” he asked, suavely. Her fingers rested upon his. “Lady Ferringhall, sir. But if only you will come I do not care.
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