My name is Jen Leung. I am now writing my story to you, to this world. My story with Louis and Lestat. Let me recall your memory. Louis is the author of “The Interview with the Vampire” while Lestat is the author of “The Vampire Lestat”. I think I will only give a brief summary to those books in my section. Both of them are vampires. They have not been humans for more than two centuries. If they don’t have their endless lives, I will not meet them in my lifetime. For me, you may wonder who actually I am. You are right. I am not human, not being human for seventeen years that is a very short moment only compared to my eternal life. I know many humans eager to have such a life, but it means nothing to me. And on the contrary, I still cherish the time being a human that I have treasured most in my whole life. I always have a special feeling while I think about or hear the word of human. Unfortunately, I have no return now. I still don’t know if I regret for encountering them or not until now. But they have made me to make up my mind to publish my story to the world and with my reason and my incentive totally different from theirs. Why hasn’t Lestat told you my name in his book? Actually, he has introduced me in “The Vampire Lestat” and his album but just in the original version. This version has been published once but later changed to a second edition with some reasons. But both editions don’t have much importance to me after all. I have become the thing helplessly that I hate at last. I will never forget my time being a human. When I was still a human, I was only twenty-two years old. I was Chinese, which was the only Chinese vampire in the world until now. I had inherited my parentage. I looked like my mother so much. She was a beautiful and charming lady. We were similar in height and with pleasant impression. I was 165 cm tall, thin but with good figure. My skin of course was yellow. I had long, black and shiny hair with little curls at the ends. I liked to tie them up with a ribbon when I was working or in a bad mood. I loved the black colour of my hair that could emanate a mystery feeling. And this feeling made the people around me willingly give me their in-depth study. Small round dark brown eyes with a straight nose, which liked my mother’s most, could be found on my little face. My eyes gave a shining of black crystal orbs. Those who looked at them couldn’t help themselves diverting their attention from gazing, just like their souls had been snared in them. In fact, I also loved to look at them in the reflection of the mirror and found them irresistible. They became more charming when I was smiling. They were in the shape of the crescent moons as if they bowed. And my lips were always pinkish that having the seductive power for drawing someone to kiss on them. Most of the people said I had a childish and angel face. They often guessed I was only around seventeen. But I wanted to give a more-mature impression to the people, so I always put on a pair of black plastic glasses even I had no short sight. These were the appearance my parents had given me. I loved it and felt it was so fit to me. http://www.thedarkheaven.com/story.php