We Hate Most In Others What We

He Laughed, And It Raised Goose-bumps On My Arms. "oh,ma Petite ,ma Petite , You Are Precious." Just What I Wanted To Hear. "so How Are You Getting Here?" "my Private Jet." Of Course, He Had A Private Jet. "when Can You Be Here?" "i Will Be There As Soon As I Can, My Impatient Flower." "i Prefer Ma Petite To Flower.

I Stared At Jean-claude And It Wasn't The Beauty Of Him That Made Me Love Him, It Was Just Him. It Was Love Made Up Of A Thousand Touches, A Million Conversations, A Trillion Shared Looks. A Love Made Up Of Danger Shared, Enemies Conquered, A Determination To Neither Of Us Would Change The Other, Even If We Could. I Love Jean-claude, All Of Him, Because If I Took Away The Machiavellian Plottings, The Labyrinth Of His Mind, It Would Lessen Him, Make Him Someone Else.

It Was Like Noticing The Sun. You Couldn't Help But See It, To Turn To Face The Heat Of It, To Bask In The Glory Of It. But Often When The Sun Is High In The Sky, The Moon Is Up There, Too. A Dim Memory Of What She Will Be In The Night, But There, Nonetheless, Dim And Misty, Hard And White. At Night, There Is Only The Moon, The Sun Is Nowhere To Be Seen. There Are No Distractions When The Moon Rules The Sky.

Oh, No, A Leopard Blew Up And Plastered Itself All Over Everything, But Hey, Animal Print Was In This Year.

Vampires Are People Too!