’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. She took the initiative and guided his fingers inside her and bore down. . But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him.
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