I loved words. I love to sing them and speak them and even now, I must admit, I have fallen into the joy of writing them.

I am the vampire Lestat.

But you must have all the things you never had of life and make of immortality a junk shop in which both of us become grotesque.

I am not times fool, nor a god hardened by the millennia; I am not the trickster in the black cape nor the sorrowful wanderer. I have a conscience. I know right from wrong I know what I do and yes, I do it. I am the Vampire Lestat. That's your answer do with it as you will.

Your cigarette has become one long cylindrical ash.

I wanted to go. It seemed in the depths of my bruised soul I wanted nothing more. But something again held me.

Writing is what we do for a living; reviewing is what gangster bullies do for fun!