Overcome by his affliction, Mr. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. You are captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley. Never had he been so intrigued. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. He caressed her tenderly, with no trace of the Sebastian who had previously knocked her off her feet with a slap across the mouth. Rushing towards the entrance of the well-hole, Blueskin touched the secret spring.
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