God bless the American spectator.

Did you ever think that if you told me where Bill's hiding his computer program, I would give you anything you asked for?" - Eric, club dead.

Because he sounded so lost-the Eric I knew had never been one to do anything other than assume others should serve him-I patted around under the covers for his hand. When I found it, I slid my own over it. His palm was turned up to meet my palm, and his fingers clasped mine. And though I would not have thought it possible to go to sleep holding hands with a vampire, that's exactly what I did.

We want to climb in with you,' Dermot said. 'We'll all sleep better.' That seemed incredibly weird and creepy to me - or maybe I only thought it should have. I was simply too tired to argue. I climbed in the bed. Claude got in on one side of me, Dermot on the other. Just when I was thinking, I would never be able to sleep, that this situation was too odd and too wrong, I felt a kind of blissful relaxation roll through my body, a kind of unfamiliar comfort. I was with family. I was with blood. And I slept.

We might be on the same page, but I wasn't happy about reading it.

The world seemed a bad and terrible place, all its denizens suspect, and I the lamb wandering through the valley of death with a bell around my neck.

And since I’m going to be in the neighborhood, you thought I might do as an escort? To an orgy?