The Shreveport vampire bar would be opening late tonight. I was running behind, and I’d automatically gone to the front door, the public door, only to be helted by neatly lettered sign, red Gothic script on white cardboard: WE’II BE READY TO GREET YOU WITH A BITE TONIGHT, AT EIGHT O’CLOCK. PLEASE EXCUSE OUR DELAYED OPENING. It was signed “The Staff of Fangtasia.” It was the third week in September, so the red neon FANGTASIA sign was already on. The sky was almost pitch-black. I stood with one foot inside my car for a minute, enjoying the mild evening and the faint, dry smell of vampire that lingered around the club. [download]
Format : Ebook.Pdf
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