The Basics

My name is Sarah Dearly.

I am a vampire.

But don’t be afraid. I don’t bite.

Actually, scratch that. Recently I do bite, but not because I want to.

Three months ago I was turned into a vampire by an amorous and misguided—not to mention creepy—blind date. Shortly after he tried to bury me (don’t ask), some vampire hunters came by and staked him dead. They wanted to stake me as well, but I ran away and straight into the arms of a super-hot, suicidal six-hundred-year-old vampire named

Thierry de Bennicoeur. French name. No accent, though. Did I mention hot?

Angsty though he was, I fell for him. Hard.

Bad things happened. Good things happened.

Mostly bad things, though.

I learned that hunters were everywhere and focused on killing vampires—even though we’re not evil. Or dead. Or undead. We’re exactly like humans except for the drinking-

blood-to-exist thing, which, unfortunately, is true. And a couple other things like not being able to eat solid food. We have increased strength and senses. We don’t have reflections in mirrors, which, to say the least, is inconvenient. Alcohol no longer has any effect on us, alas. But we have beating hearts and can go out during the day, even though the sun tends to get a bit bright without dark sunglasses.

Oh, the immortality thing is true, too. That is, if somebody doesn’t stake us.

So, even though we’re relatively normal, hunters want us dead. They’re the bad guys.

One of those hunters tried to kill me and I shot him in self-defense. Yes, shot him with a gun. No fangs involved. The incident succeeded in giving me the false reputation of slaughtering a whole bunch of hunters and the catchy title of “Slayer of Slayers.” Some people are scared of me, some impressed, and others find it a big fat challenge to sink a stake through my heart.