“If you pretend something hard enough, could it become real?”
I’d been waiting for the vampire for years when he walked into the bar. Ever since vampires came out of the coffin (as they laughingly put it) two years ago, I’d hoped one would come to Bon Temps. We had all the other minorities in our little town -why not the newest, the legally recognized undead. But rural northern Louisiana wasn’t too tempting to vampires, apparently; on the other hand, New Orleans was a real center for them – the whole Anne Rice thing, right?
The day before the house on Princess street was due to be demolished, Mandy Crystal stood by the wire fence, looking through it. She stared hungrily, her fingers tugging on a pendant that was hanging from her neck. The windows and front door of the house had been removed and she could glimpse into the shady interior. It wasn’t the first time she had looked through the windows of this house. The inside had been dark and gloomy even then, when someone had been living in it.
It had been mostly empty since the killing.