Bloodlust-UK.com

Nervous was hardly the term to describe what the short, fairly nondescript being disguised as a minor cherubim felt. Rampaging terror would be a much more accurate word. Thrusting his chubby hands deep into the pockets of his brightly coloured tracksuit, he sauntered in a painfully casual manner to the green neon-lit doorway of the bar. Sneaking a quick peek through the swinging saloon-style door, he saw a roomful of archangels and seraphims drinking Pimms and Martinis from sugar-frosted cocktail glasses.
Read the rest of this entry »

The two young Japanese women couldn’t read the waiver and didn’t care. “…and hereby acknowledge and fully understand that by permitting the vampire to feed on me, I will be engaging in an activity that may result in serious injury, permanent disability or death…” The tourists barely spoke English, and that was what Dennis wanted: this night he would face no monotonous questions. A month of interrogations by other donors had left him sick of talking.
Read the rest of this entry »

They always told me I shouldn’t go to the university.

It’s too much trouble, they’d all say. Too much work for such a measly reward. They all said there wasn’t any difference between someone who goes to the university and someone who doesn’t.
Read the rest of this entry »

(Editor’s Note: these interviews date 2001-2009, so some information may not be current)

Freda Warrington is the author of a fantastic vampire trilogy, as well as being a renowned fantasy author, her books include

+ A Taste of Blood Wine

+ A Dance in Blood Velvet

+ The Dark Blood of Poppies

+ Dark Cathedral

+ Amber Citadel

+ Sapphire Throne

Read the rest of this entry »

NOTE: DRACULA’S GUEST was excised from the original DRACULA MSS by his publisher because of the length of the original book MSS. It was published as a short story in 1914, two years after Stoker’s death.

When we started for our drive the sun was shining brightly on Munich, and the air was full of the joyousness of early summer. Just as we were about to depart, Herr Delbruck (the maitre d’hotel of the Quatre Saisons, where I was staying) came down bareheaded to the carriage and, after wishing me a pleasant drive, said to the coachman, still holding his hand on the handle of the carriage door, “Remember you are back by nightfall. The sky looks bright but there is a shiver in the north wind that says there may be a sudden storm. But I am sure you will not be late.” Here he smiled and added, “for you know what night it is.”

Read the rest of this entry »