The Maker’s Voice echoing in my bony cranium, the sulphuric acid rain burned my wings to dust. But I couldn’t die, I had been turned immortal, but...I still felt the constant pain of the ravages of time and the constant hunger to feed.”“But I am the Lord of Darkness and destruction, the equal of The Maker, this is supposed to be the scene of my Eternal Triumph through the Divine Right of the Stuart Crown!”“No longer, Satan, now you are merely a host to a Vampire.”“How long have you been a. What I was doing was absolutely wrong, wrong, wrong, but going by the physical evidence it felt right, right, right. Beverly's breasts were perfect palmfuls. The nipples against my palms felt like magic buttons. Push gently. But maybe they were dials that needed to be twisted a little. Or knobs you pulled out a tiny bit to turn on the juice. My god, she was like a gothic romance--her bosom was actually heaving. Her blouse was a strapless halter, a frilly fancified tube top. Silly elastic, I. More

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