Have my eyes deceived me? You all are back again? You all just can't seem to stay away. As if my latest edition to the Chronicles, Blood Canticle, wasn't enough. Though I must admit, I'm touched that you all came back. Knowing my irresistible charm with readers, old and new, for the newcomers' sake, I'll say it.
I am The Vampire Lestat.
There. With that single sentence, I have broken one of the most important rules of my kind: Never Reveal Yourself to Mortals.
What can I say? I'm bold.
Just a handsome six foot blonde, skin so white it seems to glow in the night, with electric blue eyes to die for, charm to entrance male and female, and did I mention completely loaded? Why else would I have been bestowed the title of the 'Brat Prince of the Vampires' by our ancient ones?
What can I say? When you got it flaunt it.
After all the many things I've accomplished in this life of mine, I have the right, right?
What year is it again? 2007? And we last met 2003? And you all have been wondering how I've been spending my time?
Still longing to be a saint, if that's what you're wondering.
I can read your minds now.
My god, Lestat, you're still fantasizing about that? What about the Lestat back in book two? Where's that Lestat?
As if Blood Canticle didn't answer those questions already. It ain't easy switching back and forth, longing to do good, while doing dark deeds again ya know. You can't just drop habits established by the dark gift like quitting something cold turkey.
Thankfully, being an immortal, you have established a sort of patience for these things.
And yet…. Is someone already in my territory? Killing whoever, whenever they please? Haven't I already made it clear that New Orleans is my turf?
Bloody hell… these guys don't know when to quit.
Of course I have to roughing thing up a bit (but heaven forbid that I have to get those hand made lace cuffs, black jacket, and leather pants dirty. Maybe a bit of mud and gore on my shining boots maybe… I can always go get them cleaned somewhere.)
Oh yes, did I forget to mention that I'm no longer at Blackwood Farm? Honestly, I can't just leave my French Quarter unguarded for long, as it is part of my territory.
Back to situation on hand. I went out, got on that bike you all have come to love, and cruise on outta there. Of course I'm wearing those signature purple shades. How else to draw attention away from those killer blue eyes?
Perpetrator seemed to have left that location where I sensed them.
This was starting to annoy me. A chaser. What the bloody hell? I just wanted to kick back in the newly bought king size Louie XV bed, and re- read those old Mark Twain books. I seemed to have developed a taste for those…
As I continued my pursuit, I couldn't help but get the feeling that this stray vampire was very familiar to me. Talk about an unexpected case of déjà vu.
Ditch the bike near an old cemetery. No one dares try to enter those at night so no worries about that contraption.
My target seemed to have entered one of those young mortal clubs. That music seemed degrading to me, always blasting such artists such as T- Pain, Souja Boi, Jay- Z.
How they ever became famous is beyond me! I mean, if you have to rhythm well along with the beat, even if it's cheesy to get famous, then this country's music industry is doomed.
With the thoughts coming from the intruder, they were thinking the same thing, though I do detect a bit of pop music playing instead.
Whatever. Expect an old time rock star to be a critic.
Entering the club. I can be able to sense a lot of eyes on me, even without the vampiric gifts I held. Maybe after teaching a lesson I could have a snack…
There! See! That's why you can never be a saint, Lestat old boy! No San Juan Diego! Nada! Never!
Just finish your business and be on your way to go further into misery, mourn the fact that you can never be a saint, while maintaining your all mighty reputation.
Life's ain't easy if you're me apparently.
Damn it! Lost the cur. Oh well… might as well feed while I'm here.
Many girls here, also men… which to choose from?
I have decided!
The enchanting young woman at the bar, twirling her finger along the rim of the cosmopolitan. Expect women to go for the fruity drinks.
Hair was dark brown, complimenting her dark skin tone. Looking quite the man-eater in the flowing teal halter top, showing off her perfectly sized chest, calves perfectly flexed in the 5 inch stilettos, under that dark boot cut Levi jeans.
Charm her, lead her to dark section of club, feed, get out. That's the plan, comprende?
Slickly made my way over to her, but something seemed off about her.
I was only a few feet away when she suddenly spoke.
"You just love narrating your actions, don't you…? Lestat?" she asked in a seductive voice.
This is the first story I've done based on Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles. Reviews are most appreciated