Melody Chalis survives each vampiric night by feeding off of the blood of her lovers until one night when she is confronted by Eric, the elder vampire. She can either join him, or face a horrible death by the sun
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Double Dragon Publishing
August 01, 2002
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Excerpt from A Female Vampire by Katharina Katt
Night had fallen, yet she had been up hours before. Her home, kept dark during the day by heavy curtains, had shielded her from the sun. Her bedroom was kept even more obscure, the windows painted black on the inside so that no accidental light might seep in. The curtains of her house were black with blood-red edging. The roses on her end table cast the perfect touch of femininity and their scent surrounded her as she made her bed, turning the black satin sheets over the red coverlet.
She was of average height compared to other American women, five foot eight to be exact. She was not so white as the dead may look, but her skin was a soft ivory, a color that the Japanese had often powdered their faces to match. Her blue eyes searched for clothing to wear for the night. She ran her fingers over the different fabrics. Artificial light was unnecessary because she could see perfectly in the darkest shadows. She caressed her leather dress, smiling at the fond memories it brought back. She ran her soft hands over t-shirts, faded jeans, her leather jacket, the silk red dress she had worn on occasion, and stopped when her eyes spotted her satin evening gown.
"Yes," she purred, "this will go nicely for tonight." She took it from the hanger and laid it across her bed. She let her sheer nightgown fall to the floor, unzipped the dress before her, and brought it up around her shapely curves with little difficulty. She walked to the mirror and turned on the light even though she didn't really need to turn it on. It was a habit, perhaps from her human days. Picking up her wooden handled brush she gently brushed out her long dark hair, the curls rebounding around her shoulders. She pulled pins from her vanity drawer and pinned up her hair, her neck bare. Her curls flowed from the pins in the back barely brushing against the nape of her neck. Her breasts pressed against the fabric; they were not too large, but ample enough for any man ' s admiration. She took a soft brush and powdered the tops of her cleavage with a pink blush. With another brush she applied a dark rose color to her eyelids. "Perfect." she whispered, pleased with the results. The gown seemed like a glove, desperately clinging to every curve. As a final touch, she pressed the atomizer of her perfume bottle and the mist surrounded her, falling and touching her like only a perfume can touch a woman.