“The vampire moved as a unit, talons extended, fangs sprung free of their houses of flesh.They came to where the delectable smell of fresh blood was released. A quality without compare. It was as if a thousand year old bottle of wine lay breathing.On a cold stone floor, but paces away from consumption.”

“I was a vampire, and she had the sweetest blood I’d smelled in eighty years.”

“A dozen cobras moved as one, shattering their bottles. Wine and glass sprayed the room. The snakes sprang for Isyllt's attacker with fangs unfolded. He screamed high and sharp as they uncoiled, long slick bodies whipping through the air. She wasn't sure if their venom could survive death and pickling, but it didn't seem to matter. After several bites, he curled on the floor, weeping and trying to bat the undead snakes away.”

“For most vampires, it's an automatic response - scent blood, fangs drop.”

“Oppression lays down blood-lust. It lays it down like a wine.”

“Don’t tell her that your moms knew right away what it was, that she recognized its smell from the year the United States invaded your island.”