I laughed and looked at the computer screen.   On it was a 
macro of a yellow rose complete with thorns.  And of  course, there were little 
drops of blood dripping from the thorns.  I  typed, "Wolf, love, you are such 
an 
idiot, you know."   
Thirty seconds later, a reply appeared on the  screen, which made me laugh 
even harder.  "Me??  You dare to  call me an idiot?"   
I typed, "Most definitely, love.  But you  are a most lovable idiot."   
I didn’t have to wait long for a  response.  "That’s more like it," it said, 
along with several little  cyber-kisses.   
I typed in a smiley-face, and then I happened  to look at the wall clock.  
Damn, I thought, it’s late.  I typed  in, "Wolf, I have to sign off for now.  
The twins will be leaving  soon.  They’ve been on vacation from school, and I 
have to go take  them to meet their flight.  Besides we’ve been chatting for 
almost  three hours…..don’t you have anybody to kill tonight?"   
A response was not long in forthcoming.   It said to my great delight, "FUCK 
YOU!!!!"   
I typed in quickly, "Now, now, Wolf, you know  that sort of language offends 
my delicate sensibilities.  You’ve been  hanging around my Danny for much too 
long."   
He responded, "Yeah, right….delicate  sensibilities my ass."  I laughed out 
loud at this, but the script  continued, "Oh, BTW, FunkyKhiken says hello."   
Smiling at Louis’ absurd login name, I typed  back, "Tell him that GoofyGrl 
is sending him a huge cyberhug, and that  goes for you too, Wolfkiller.  Same 
time, tomorrow night,  love?"   
"But of course, ma chere," came the response  from the other end, "and when 
you sleep, dream of New Orleans and  me."  

I shivered with  remembered pleasure, and knew that I wouldn’t get any sleep 
at all  tonight.  I typed in with an accusatory tone, "You did that on  
purpose, you bastard, didn’t you?"   
The response was simple, but telling….  :)=   
Dirty, rotten bastard, I thought with a smile.   He knows exactly which 
buttons of mine to push.  In fact his methods  had worked not once, but twice.  
I 
typed back, "Just for that, Wolf,  you will have to pay the penalty, and you 
know what that is."   
The returned response was, "I await your  punishment with anticipation.  I’ve 
been a very bad boy."   
I laughed, cyber-kissed him, and logged  off.   
I leaned back in my chair and pondered over  everything that had happened to 
me in the past few months.  I’m just  totally surprised that my heart didn’t 
stop from all of the shocks I had  received.   
First, I discovered that in the city of New  Orleans, Louisiana, the undead 
walked the streets in the form of the  vampire.  Second, I was shocked to learn 
that my not-so-dead husband  was one of their rank.   
As you remember, my name is Jamie Stephens,  and I was once married to Daniel 
Molloy.  For twenty years, he had  supposedly been dead, but I learned that 
he wasn’t exactly dead, but he  wasn’t exactly alive either.  I was overjoyed 
at the fact that my  love was still in existence, but I had been furious at 
him for keeping  that fact from me.   
But my most intriguing experience had been in  meeting The Vampire Lestat, as 
he likes to call himself.  He had been  the one who was directly and 
indirectly responsible for my meeting up with  Daniel again.  He was the one 
who had 
come to my hotel room after I  had fled the townhouse where I had seen Daniel 
alive.  He was the one  who had comforted me, and yes, made love to me, and 
literally sent me to  the moon.  And over the past few months, he had become 
one 
of my  closest friends, along with his beloved companion, Louis.   
Ever since I had come back home, I had been in  constant contact with them, 
either by computer or by phone.  Before I  had left New Orleans, after they had 
discovered my secret (I felt my face  flush at that), they had promised to 
visit when the twins were not at  home.   
"Hey, ‘Chelle, Mom’s been talking to Wolf  again," I heard the voice of my 
son, Michael, behind me.   
"Again?" I heard my daughter, Michelle, say,  "Mom, that’s already the third 
time you’ve talked to him, and it’s only  Tuesday."   
I laughed, delightedly, "Oh, do be quiet, you  rascals," I scolded, 
mockingly, "I guess ya’ll missed the lesson I gave on  respecting your elders." 
  
They grinned their identical smiles at me, and  said simultaneously, "Of 
course."  Michelle added, "We were learning  ‘1000 Ways to Drive Your Mother 
Absolutely Nuts.’"   
"Well, you’re A+ students, then….ya’ll found  way more than 1000 ways to 
drive me nuts," I said, getting up from my  chair.  "Are you ready to leave?  
Got 
all your stuff  together?"   
"Yes, ma’am," they chorused, in exasperated  tones.   
Two hours later, I arrived home,  exhausted.  That they had such a late 
flight was bad enough, but it  was late, at that.  So we had to lounge about 
the 
airport for an  hour.  We had a quick snack, napped, and read, while waiting 
for 
the  twins’ flight.  They were headed back to school in Boston.  Both  
Michael and Michelle had scholarships at Harvard, and I was so proud of  them.  
They 
were about to begin their final year.  My Michael,  with his dark hair and 
violet eyes, was majoring in music, while my  Michelle, with her brown hair and 
green eyes, was majoring in  medicine.   
Finally the flight arrived, and I held back my  tears until they boarded.  I 
didn’t want their last image of me for a  while to be me crying.  I hugged and 
kissed my kids until final  boarding was called and they were forced to board 
the plane.  I cried  most of the way home.  My tears were both happy and sad. 
 Happy  that they were close to achieving their degrees, and sad that they 
were  growing up so fast.  It had been just the three of us for all of  their 
lives, since Daniel had "died" before they were born.  Even now  that I knew 
that their father wasn’t exactly "dead", I was still hesitant  to divulge their 
existence to him.   
I unlocked the front door and walked  inside.  The first place I went to was 
the kitchen.  I was still  hungry, even after eating all of that not-so-cheap 
food at the  airport.  I fixed myself a quick bologna sandwich, poured a glass 
of  coke, and  walked back towards my bedroom.  I went inside my  room, but 
suddenly stopped short.  Someone was lying there on the  bed, watching me.  To 
my utter surprise, it was Armand.   
"Armand," I said, warily, "what brings you  here tonight?"   
He rose from the bed and strode towards  me.  He took my drink and sandwich 
out of my hands and laid them on  the nightstand.  He turned to face me again, 
and said, "We need to  talk, preferably away from Daniel."   
I tried to look calm, but inside I was a mass  of nerves.  I swallowed hard, 
and said in a rough voice, "About  what?"   
He seemed to sense my nervousness and pressed  in closer to me.  He said, 
simply, "About why, even when you’re not  there, you are all that Daniel can 
talk 
about."   
I looked confused, and voiced it, "But I  thought we hashed this out in New 
Orleans.  He and I both knew that  we could never recapture the past.  What has 
happened to bring you  all the way to Texas, Armand?"   
He leaned in even closer to me.  "What I  really want to know is……," he 
broke off.    



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