(I knew Millennium Revelation pop culture and taste tended towards the dark-now I know how dark.) When the CSI cameras showed a discreet maggot camping out in a nostril that held a tiny blue topaz stud like my very own, Lilith's corpse was dubbed "Maggie" and a fantasy franchise was born. Maggie is the It Girl of 2013: Maggie dolls and merchandise are hot and so are bootleg Maggie films, out-takes and my hide, if anyone could snag it-dead or alive. One werewolf mobster almost did already.

Then comes ambition number four: Identifying the embracing skeletons Ric and I discovered in Vegas's Sunset Park just after I hit town and just before town hit me back, hard.

I have allies other than Ric helping me achieve my ambitions. One has heavenly blue eyes and is seriously gray and hairy. That's my dog, Quicksilver. He's a wolf hound-wolf cross I saved from death at the pound. He returns the favor with fang, claw and warm, paranormally talented tongue.

(I have a soft spot for dogs-especially since Achilles, my valiant little white Lhasa apso in Wichita, died from blood poisoning after biting a vampire. Achilles' ashes rest in a dragon-decorated urn on my mantel, but I haven't given up the ghost on him.)

That mantel is located in an Enchanted Cottage on the Hector Nightwine estate. Hector rents it to me cheap because, as producer of the many worldwide CSI franchises, he's presumably guilty of offing my possible twin on national TV.

When Hector's CSI show made Lilith Quince into a macabre international sex symbol, he inadvertently made me, Delilah Street-her twin, double, clone, simulacrum, whatever-a wanted woman. Not for myself alone, mind you, but for the naked and dead image of another woman, who may be dead, or not.

Hector has a profit motive rather than a conscience. He's banking on my finding Lilith or becoming her for his enduring financial benefit.