She hated dancing. Sometimes she did it, believing that meeting a social necessity was more important than her personal preference ( Read more... )

Her expression grim, Segura Maria Pomar approached the entrance to the funeral, the dark-eyed, body-armored kindred guarding the door pausing to inspect her. "Are you a member of the city, ma'am?" he asked politely. She shook her head, replying softly "I am a guest of Prince Essex." He peered at her a moment more. "Go right ahead." Faintly, she ( Read more... )

The building had the scent of new pretending to be old, the town of modern farming. The gentle-eyed kindred in the place that smelled of coffee and vegetable stew had told her to come here. He was young, she thought, his eyes would not be so gentle forever. She wanted to stay and see if they'd trade recipes for her, but there were rules about ( Read more... )