I’d said it before and meant it: Alive or undead, the love of my life was a badass.
Don’t stop there. I suppose there are also, what, vampires and werewolves and zombies?” “Of course there are. Although you mostly find zombies farther south, where the voudun priests are.” “What about mummies? Do they only hang around Egypt?” “Don’t be ridiculous. No one believes in mummies.
Alone. Yes, that’s the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn’t hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.
Mom. I have something to tell you. I’m undead. Now, I know you may have some preconceived notions about the undead. I know you may not be comfortable with the idea of me being undead. But I’m here to tell you that undead are just like you and me … well, okay. Possibly more like me than you.
The only thing better than imagining Dimitri carrying me in his arms was imagining him shirtless while carrying me in his arms.
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