Diane seemed more interested in the prestige of her violin skills than in the more sordid subject of her vampirism. ” He held out his hand obediently. He whispered in her ear. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. But I'll never part with your irons.
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