"You absolute buffoon!"
I would like to clarify now that I am certainly not a buffoon, thank you very much. Really, you knock over a glass of expensive wine once, and suddenly everywhere you go, you're The Buffoon. It's quite awful, I know; but alas, I must prevail.
My name is Florence Hummingdale, and I am perhaps the happiest girl alive. Or dead, however you like to see it, but it couldn't matter less to me. Humans like to call us vampires, which I must say, has a nice ring. Vampires sounds a lot better than sickly-looking fang-baring monsters. There's a lot of romanticizing of the vampiric experience, a bit too much for some people's taste. I, for one, can't get enough of it, it's just oodles of fun— though I've been told it's in my nature to romanticize.
There is one thing you must know about us, before I may begin my chronicle: vampires are not alone in this world. We belong to a ginormous community of other "supernatural" creatures, called the Wycliffe Assembly. (Silly name, I agree, but apparently it's named after a Mr. Wycliffe who brought all these races together hundreds of years ago; I'm not exactly sure, I don't go around reading up on vampire history like Theodosia does.) The Assembly unites all sorts of supernatural races— vampires, lightwolves (I believe humans call them werewolves; I like to call them rats),
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My Perilous Affair With Midnight
Vampirosit's 1813, and florence hummingdale is having the time of her life (or death, depending on how you look at it). florence is a vampire, living with four other vampire girls in an abbey outside london: estella clements, theodosia rathbone, genevieve g...
