"In New Orleans, the four points of the compass are useless in determining direction; logic and effiiciency defer to whimpsy and indulgence..."- Ben Sandmel

"We all suffer the blind tug of that thrist. Animal heat draws us like no other magic. We know that the stone-cold foreheads of our dead do not invite a second kiss. We crave the heat and subtle motility of life. Some of us - and in this respect we are like Anne Rice's vampires - would do anything to feel it, to transcend it, a paradox of transcendence through total submission to the senses..." - Richard Noll

The lure of "Vampire" is more than what the general public perceives it to be. Its not the lure of immortality, or some form or glamourous goth or blood or even horror. The overwhelming lure of the vampire is about passion and heat and LIFE.  Its about the human condition and what drives us... take a deep look at them and you will find your own heart.....
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Walking down Decatuer street in the misty night, she wondered if last night had been a dream. Its all seemed hazy now, fragments of images torn and pieced together. Her footsteps echoed on the cobblestone sidewalk as she turned the corner, like some maddening cadence. There was rain in the air, not really heavy enough to constitute a drizzle, it seemed to just hover and swirl in the atmosphere. At times the light from the full moon would catch it, twist it around with the breeze in glints of silver, like ribbons floating through the air. The streets were quiet. The merchants and psychics had all left, debris from the day where they had been. What time was it? 3 am? She half amusedly, half frightened, remembered 3 am was the witching hour of the soul. "Oh god, what am I doing," she whispered to herself. She closed her eyes and shivered, feeling one of those moonlit streamers wrap around her form, tasting her, moulding to her. In the distance she heard a whisper... repetitive... soft...coming along in waves on the breeze. Intoxicatingly licking at lost memories. She had stopped walking, stood there hugging herself, eyes closed tight, letting that dark melody come clearer in her head. Lost in it... desperately wanting to hear more. A voice called to her from somewhere deep within her soul... yessssssss...come to me... It lulled her into that dizzy dreamy feeling again and scenes from last night flashed by her eyes like a movie.

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She had been out with friends, drinking and listening to that soul-filled music that can only be found in the heart of New Orleans. Blues...so sweet and sad. Somehow, she had ended up walking back to her rented townhouse alone. She neared the hotel on St Anne St, an old and historic place that she had meant to take a tour of but had never gotten around to it. Some rooms faced the street and she casually peered into them through the veils of curtains curious as to what kind of luxury lay within their walls. Most were empty, some too dark to see into; but up ahead there was a soft glow coming from a window. It wasn't the bright and static glow of electric light, but soft and dancing light from candles. It threw shadows on the sheer cloth and out onto the street. Dancing and teasing, inviting. She walked by slowly to deliberately take a delicious peek into the room. Her eyes scanned the room, enveloped in the warm orange glow, started to absorb the details...the dark mahogany wood, the rich tapestries, and the art that graced the walls like ornaments adorning a king's crown. Then suddenly she was looking into a pair of eyes. She didn't remember seeing a person in the room... and for an instant the room seemed to disappear. Drawn into those dark orbs, she stood transfixed and motionless. A wave of dizziness consumed her and the room went black.

Suddenly she realized she was opening the door to the lobby, walking in, in a daze. The entrance to the courtyard beckoned her. She only half-consciously realized what she was doing; the elegance of the lobby flashed by her as she emerged from it into a lush hidden garden.

The night air was cooler on her skin then it had been on the street; slightly more damp and humid amidst the tropical foliage that graced and hid the courtyard. The slight, murmuring sounds from the fountain caught her attention and for a moment she was lost in the depth of the waters cascading over that stone face. A presence creeped up on her, slithered through the thick night air, licked at her ankles and then at the nape of her neck. Turning suddenly she came face to face with the stares of three gentlemen at a nearby table. Startled, she started to mutter an apology for intruding but no words came out. All she could do is stare. The eyes that met hers were stone cold black... no movement, no warmth. She had no way of gaging what their mood was, their intentions, anything. An overwhelming rush of fear grabbed her, her heart raced.Her body recoiled and the urge to run out pounded in her head. But she couldnt move. Something held her and all she could do was listen as her heartbeat clicked on and on inside her head. One long hand finally beckoned her to the table and like a child, went to it out of fear not to.

The gentleman closest to her moved a chair out from the table as she approached and it glided weightlessly across the cobblestones seemingly at his biding. She sat down, an automatic reaction, her physical movements completely separate from her mind. How many minutes passed? Three? Five? Twenty? Who knows. She suddenly felt invaded. Questions were being hurled at her, too many to distinguish. Were they in her mind ? Were they probing it, tasting it, seeking...seeking...seeking. Just as she felt her head was about to burst, one broke the silence

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"What do you want from us?" The voice was deep and smooth and almost melodic, but the body it came from was, in contrast, so cold and unemotional. He stared at her with dark eyes, his black hair groomed and in place, every detail of his being very elegant to behold. She anxiously searched his face for some form of warmth, some glimmer of kindness, but found none. The darkness around him was beginning to become inviting, intriguing danger that she couldn't refuse, couldn't stop absorbing and admiring. It was like stealing glances at something forbidden.

Again, that voice, even more demanding this time, asked, "what do you want from us? Why did you come here?"

She started to stutter some nonsense response but she couldn't speak. Frustrated, and frightened she thought to herself, want from you? I dont even know who you are!

"Oh, don't play games my dear, you know exactly who we are," came a reply from the second one.

Her eyes moved over him, like the other his face was expressionless and cold, thinner and more androgoness but just as elegant. So smooth his pale skin was... like satin is seemed. She let his words run through her mind, you know exactly what we are, you know exactly what we are...and then another word came to her.....vampire. Like a lost memory rediscovered, she almost purred yessssss vampire....I do know. Her heart suddenly jumped and pounded in her chest again as she sensed the danger she was in... she felt like a rabbit in a snare. Her body fought to move but it was not her own to control, and at the same time she quivered with excitement. The interrogation continued.

"Yes, you do know who we are, and you've sought us out, found us here. You've searched for us, you've dreamed of us. Now answer my question. What is it you want from us? What is it you desire from us?" He hissed and grinned, a frightful thing it was too, like a wolf waiting to snap at his prey. He was playing a game with her, wanting the magic words, seeking a key, it was all a riddle to play out... oh, what was the right answer. Did he want the age old answer...immortality? Surely not. How many had approached them before with that premise? Truthfully, immortality didn't appeal to her at all. She had always loved the idea of vampires, their dark lives... but why? What was it after all, if not immortality? Oh it was more, she tired so hard to remember...

She looked to the third who had sat farthest away from her, his face half hidden by the shadows. Her stare drew him out, and she saw for the first time, his beautiful face. His hair was dark and naturally curly, hanging down to his shoulders. A powerful face, jaws squared, sensuous lips. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked into those eyes... those eyes, the ones she had seen from the street. They were dark and bottomless like the others... but there was a sparkle in them... a hint of warmth? No...not warmth, but familiarity. He was the one that spoke to her soul, made her want to cry, left her trembling at night after her dreams, waking up in a lustful sweat, a sweet sigh escaping from her lips. Familiar he was, like a memory lost and suddenly found. His touch, his caresses, his cold lips upon her skin... his passion... oh...his passion. She had her answer.

As she stared at him, caught in his gaze, words came from her lips in an innocent angelic whisper..."I seek the passion with which you live your life... that is what draws me to you..the passion of your souls."

A mischievous smile spread across his face... almost a hint of pride as he bathed in her form and ate her words. She felt the others draw back, shocked at her words and taken off guard. She had known something she should not have, she knew too much.


Blackness. Cold.

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It was mid-morning. Sun shined quietly through the tall thin windows of her room. Waxen blonde hair tossled about her shoulders as she layed in the kingsize bed, a tiny form lost amidst a mirriad of blankets and cool sheets. Her head pounding, becoming a little clearer with each minute. Still wearing the clothes she had on last night, she couldnt remember how she got home. She sighed and scorned herself for drinking too much, then pulled her body out of bed and towards the shower.

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