Diane seemed more interested in the prestige of her violin skills than in the more sordid subject of her vampirism. Witness Browning. She ran through the backyards of Pinecrest subdivision, piano wire and a slim jim tucked into her pantyhose. He could not possibly lunge in the confined space, and so had nothing to do but back himself into the chapel as fast as he could. Love stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly.
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