He smiled, so sensual and beautiful, it was another form of bliss just looking at him.

The dungeon image helped. "You need to let Maximus go," I stated, my voice stronger now. "No. Wine?

MTV and video games have solved that problem as far as most of humanity goes. That, and telly, as it were.” “Telly?” Who was that? He grunted in amusement. “Television, of course. Don’t you speak English?” “You sure don’t,” I muttered. Shaking his head, he frowned at me.

Good. If you checked your e-mail every five minutes, or keep texting and Tweeting in the middle of our conversation, I might snap your neck out of sheer principle.

Brush teeth. Wash hair. Rule undead world with an iron fist.

I’m the only authentic Vlad. Everyone else is merely an envious imitation.

I don't care what you think, your junk does not have special abilities.