“He shoved the phone at her again. “What does this do?” Hand shaking, she took it from him. “Um. It’s called a Smartphone. You can talk to people or send messages. It’s got Internet too.” She pointed to a collection of funny looking symbols on the glossy surface. Inter-net. Is that used for some sort of fishing? And why is the phone called smart? Were prior ones stupid?”

Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

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“Helena silently put down the phone and tiptoed to the bathroom door. What should she do? Run? Knock? Walk in? Get naked? And…how should she feel? Excited? Freaked out? Angry because he hadn’t called for three weeks? Relieved, because the wait was over and she could finally start asking all those questions swimming in her head? The door swung open, and Niccolo boldly stood before her in his birthday-suit-glory, his unforgettable diamond-cut abs glistening with drops of water. A whoosh of air left her lungs. I’m going with…naked and excited!”


“So. You in?” Niccolo looked from side to side. “In? In what?” “Yes. In. Are you onboard? Ready to throw down. Roll the dice. Ride that crazy cow called life and make her your bitch?” Niccolo frowned. Her colloquialisms were simply offensive. And this coming from a ruthless vampire. “You are asking if I am committed. Sì?” “Siii.” She rolled her eyes.”


“Okay. Good point.” He’s very honest. I should ask how he is in bed. She slapped her hands over her mouth. “I didn’t just say that out loud again, did I?”"Yes, you did.”


“You’re hurt,” she commented. And I care? Okay. It’s official. I’m my own species now: pathetic-deathwish-osaurus…I sooo hear extinction calling me.”


“Helena, my love,” she heard a deep voice whisper from behind. Helena gasped and held on tight to that breath. Jeans clutched to her chest, she turned slowly toward the voice. There was no one there. “It’s official. I’m obsessed.”


“She spun to face him. “Listen, Hellboy, we need to make this quick. I have garage sales to hit and naughty souls to claim. Decide.” “I do not understand.” Was this goddess tormenting him for sport? Why did she call him “Hellboy?” How very rude! She poked at his bare chest with a razor sharp fingernail. “You hate taking orders.” Sì, true. After all, I am vampire. “And even if you decided to listen like a good little boy, the odds of pulling this off are slim to none.” I happen to excel at all things impossible. I am a vampire! “So don’t come crying if you end up in your queen’s dungeon…” Vampires do not cry, silly woman. “Tortured three times a day for all eternity, which is where you have a ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine percent chance of landing if you don’t do exactly as I say.” Actually, those numbers are quite encouraging. He thought his odds were somewhere between pigs flying and hell freezing over. “Buon. I understand. Tell me what you saw, what I must do.”