By 17, I was submitting to publications and collecting my first rejection slips.

My 20s were a blizzard of rejection slips.

It wasn't just my beast's hunger, but Jean-Claude's blood thirst and Richard's craving for flesh. It was all that and the ardeur running through all of it, so that one hunger fed into the next in an endless chain, a snake eating it's own tail, an Ouroboros of desires.

And there you go again, that tone in your voice, never a word out of place, but your tone says clearly, 'You are a fucking psycho bitch and I hate you.

Merry didn't make you a whining bitch, Talan; you were always that.

A girl could never have too much jewelry or too much weaponry.