She laughed and said, "Well, it's not that I would be a bad vampire. I would be a bad vampire, if you catch my drift."
Now I laughed. "Like an evil vampire?"
"Sure," said my sister. "I mean you can't go to hell, because you don't die.
You can be as evil as you want. I think I would probably kill off most men."
"Most?"
"I would leave the pretty ones."
"Oh, brother," I said.
Now I laughed. "Like an evil vampire?"
"Sure," said my sister. "I mean you can't go to hell, because you don't die.
You can be as evil as you want. I think I would probably kill off most men."
"Most?"
"I would leave the pretty ones."
"Oh, brother," I said.
We were on our third date.
Russell Baker was twenty-four and a professional boxer. I wasn't twenty-four.
In fact, according to my driver's license, I was thirty-five. Thanks to the vampire in me, literally, I looked twenty-eight and possibly younger.
We were at Roy's Restaurant in Anaheim, a bustling place that consisted mostly of Disneyland tourist spillovers.
Still, a nice restaurant with great ambiance and just enough background noise to make it seem like we were alone.
Russell Baker was dressed in tight gray jeans and wore a tight black Ralph Lauren shirt open wide at the collar, revealing some of his muscled upper chest. He wore his own type of medallion.
It was a golden scorpion inside a golden disk, in homage to his birth sign. I'd heard about Scorpios. I've heard they could be the best lovers. The thought, perhaps not surprisingly, sent a shiver through me.
"You okay?" asked Russell.