If There Was A Jane Austen Camp,

But If You Ever Bring Her Back Damaged Again - And I Don't Care Whose Fault It Is; I Don't Care If She Merely Trips, Or If A Meteor Falls Out Of The Sky And Hits Her In The Head - If You Return Her To Me In Less Than The Perfect Condition That I Left Her In, You Will Be Running With Three Legs. Do You Understand That, Mongrel?

I Was Ninety-nine Point Nine Percent Sure That I Was Dreaming.

I Didn’t Want To Kill Girls… Even Vampire Girls. Though I Might Make An Exception For That Blonde.

So Eager For Eternal Damnation.

He Raised His Hand, Hesitant, Conflict Raging In His Eyes, And Then Swiftly Brushed The Length Of My Cheekbone With His Fingertips. His Skin Was As Icy As Ever, But The Trail His Fingers Left On My Skin Was Alarmingly Warm - Like I'd Been Burned, But Didn't Feel The Pain Of It Yet.