The Beat of a Bloodless Heart — Dee Phillips

“The starless night was dark and stormy. A thick covering of grey clouds blotted out any light the moon may have cast. The sky threatened a coming rainstorm but that hadn't happened yet. The gloomy darkened sky made tonight's kill easier than most. No one could see me hidden in the shadows of the garbage strewn alley. I was perched behind a rusting solid steel trash bin covered with ripped and shredding political posters, biting my nails absent-mindedly and killing time until a likely prospect showed up. There wasn't much going on in this decaying section of the city at this time of the night. It was a warehouse district for the most part, with a few shabby (and probably shady) establishments scattered here and there amongst the aging storehouses. My hiding spot was just south of a fishery that reeked of smelly, rotting fish. There was a greasy spoon diner with a bar attached right at the head of the alley where I waited. The customers that frequented it were usually rough-house type characters of no-good account. I had no mental qualms at taking down any of the clientele (if you could call them that) coming out of there. I had my standards and they were not on the high side.

It was just after midnight and the bar crowd had not yet spewed onto the streets for their homeward stagger. Pickings were few but I only had to wait a short time for my prospective victims to show up. They were two men actually, obviously drunk, probably a couple of patrons from the grimy whiskey joint nearby. I could hear their boisterous singing as they stumbled along. The two men held each other up, arms around each others shoulders, lurching against the filthy brick walls from side to side down the alleyway. One man was tall and slim, unshaven and slovenly. He had greasy black hair that hung to his shoulders in ribbons. He was dressed in a filthy pair of jeans that hung loosely on his hips. His black Harley-Davidson T-shirt was stained with the remnants of numerous meals. The other man was fat with a few strands of grey hair falling over his balding forehead. He was wearing an over-sized ‘Columbo'-style raincoat that was dirty and smelly. Neither man looked very respectable but, heh, who was I to be picky? They were probably headed to take a leak in a private corner of the alley, choosing not to visit the pub's filthy, overcrowded john. It was a bad decision and it was only their bit of bad luck that they happened to come this way instead.

I waited until they were midway down the dingy passage before I struck. I was lightning fast, like a snake, first taking out the chubby one, biting swiftly through his throat into his jugular. He never knew what hit him. Bright red blood flowed through the wound as his shriek was cut off mid-way and I licked my lips in anticipation. Before he even hit the pavement though, I attacked again, this time swiftly breaking the neck of the other guy with my bare hands. It was easy. It was what I would call a ‘good kill', silent, fast and deadly. Their bodies slumped to the pavement, crimson blood pooling beneath them, and I zoned in for my first meal in over two weeks. I sucked greedily at their throats taking in every drop of the hot, red liquid. I was hungry -- so hungry. Their blood tasted sweet as it coursed down my throat, thick and satisfying.”

Diane was a plain and simple small town girl of the early 1900's when she was turned into a vampire. Like all vampires, she had to kill to survive--but she didn't like what she had to do. Killing and drinking blood was not in her nature. She did everything she could to avoid it, but the compulsion was too strong. It was the way she lived, the only way she could survive. Then one

Diane survived for decades like this, killing when she had to, but living a lonely and depressing existence. Then one day as she had just finished feeding she met the boy who changed her life.

If you like vampire romance books this is one you just can't miss!