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After the Platitudes

As I slowly approach I feel your eyes on me. I know things about you; who you have loved and what you have lost. I read the pain on your face; in your dark eyes and I want to reach out to you and heal your pain with my embrace. Does it matter that so much separates us? Does it matter that we live in different worlds with so little to connect us?

We steal glances at one another and though I belong to another I want you. Do you feel the same? As I write this I realize how futile and empty words can be to describe our feelings, to express lust or love. These are things the body does better than the mind.

I wonder if we will ever meet and what would I say to you beyond hello. For now I have to settle for words, only words.

From the journal of Josette Delacore - 1787

May Day

Spring is finally here and for this I am grateful. It has been a long, cold winter here in the Northeast, and the promise of Spring made it's arrival all the more sweet. The temperature rises, humidity tickles my skin. Last weekend it was in the 90's here. I anticipate long, warm nights with the windows open while frogs croak and crickets chirp in their summer chorus. Trees burst with color, the grass is vibrant and I savor every moment of warmth.

As I write, things heat up between men and women, mortals and vampires. It's like the warm weather has ignited their libidos as well. Roaming through the pages is a mortal man, sexy, silent and very much alone. A man of few words, hot kisses and a silk touch. His dark eyes see all the way through her soul and this renders his lover powerless. Submission is a powerful thing, a trust between two people; mortal, vampire, it does not matter.

He has eyes that admire as well as devour; eyes full of lust yet hold many secrets. He is a force to be reckoned with, a power that is both light and dark,ebbing and flowing as he moves through the night searching for her.