Maximillian Sitz, the vampire that John Readman had pursued across an ocean and a continent, was dead. Or dead again. Once undead, now most definitely doubly dead.

‘You will be tested’, the condemned convict said, voice low and accent thick as the Magistrate gave the final chance for redemption to the accused.

I have tried to venture beyond the cave, but I can learn little of the beast’s habits. I have seen neither hide nor hair of the creature, nor any other for that matter, during these last two days.

The severed goat’s head stared at him from the hay-strewn floor, judgement in its clouding eyes.

He is not mine, this boy. Not of my blood, at least. My sinewy arms cradle his round and tender form. The wind tries to pull him from me, but what can the wind do that even God cannot?

“Well, it’s safe to say her occupation didn’t have her killed” Whether he was right or wrong depends entirely on the meaning one chooses to give to the word “safe”.

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” Asked the blonde news anchor of Wake Up! Waterloo. “I’m sorry?” Sarah asked, running her hands down the front of her smart gray suit. That question hadn’t been on the list her publicist had sent over.

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” Asked the blonde news anchor of Wake Up! Waterloo. “I’m sorry?” Sarah asked, running her hands down the front of her smart gray suit. That question hadn’t been on the list her publicist had sent over.