Free Sanguine Rave - A Vampire Romance (Paranormal Romance, Vampire) by Amanda Bowen Page A

endured a lot more jokes about my distant relative and her infamous mass murders (alleged!).  Considering what I ended up being, I guess the universe couldn't resist though.  I mean how weird is it, that my last name is Bathory and I ended up being a vampire?
     
         I should probably explain that, just to nail it down for myself.  It's not like I'm writing this as a confession or hoping someone finds it and reads it on down the line and spares a little sympathy for the farm girl that ended up a hunter of the night.  Right?  It's not like anyone would believe it, it's way easier to pretend there isn't a creature of nightmare walking around freely, or that there are even things like me at all.  If you saw me, you'd never believe it unless I decided I needed a snack or thought you were a threat.  I'm not very imposing, I certainly don't look like a killer.  When I was alive I had trouble when it came to killing pests, if there was a snake in the barn bothering the horses I'd try to catch it and let it loose outside where it belonged.  I still look the same as I did the night I was 'chosen', a barely turned twenty one with a fresh and innocent face.  Like my dad used to say, I couldn't scare a puppy in a thunderstorm.  But that was before, and well let's just say if I need to I could scare a college linebacker into needing Jesus.
     
         I'm not all that old even now, really.  Guessing off of the top of my head, I just recently passed my forty-sixth birthday.  I bet that would be disappointing to some people, with this sort of popular idea that all the things like me are supposed to be way old, ridiculously so.  I can't imagine honestly what it would be like to be a thousand years old, especially considering the trouble I have with memory now and it hasn't even been a hundred years!  I think that would make me crazy, to have all that weight of past history and no real...connection to it.  It was hard enough to adapt to changing styles, when I was changed legwarmers with sparkly yarn were the coolest and all the hot kids pegged their jeans.  Don't even get me started on skinny jeans, ugh.  I had to be smart too, to get the money I have in order to live comfortably, I'm certainly not ultra rich and I don't live in an historic old mansion in need of repairs somewhere in old Hollywood.  (Though I did hear an interesting rumor about someone that actually is supposed to be there, but it's not like I met the guy).
     
         Not needing to buy much in the way of groceries though, saves a surprising amount of money.  If you're reading this I suppose it's pretty obvious by now that I'm a vampire.  You could try and comfort yourself into thinking that I'm delusional and just think I'm a vampire, but that's just not true.  What is true is that as long as someone doesn't destroy my heart or cut off my head, I'm pretty much promised to live forever.  Which I guess has some pretty good points to it.  I don't get old, I don't get sick, or tired.  I don't have to watch my weight or wonder if my butt is going to spread out like the back forty of our old farm when I get...well to the age I actually am.  Wow, that was sort of weird.  It just sort of hit me while I was writing it, that I'm the age my mom was when she passed, but I still look the same as I did the last night she saw me alive.  I can't say that I miss my parents all that much, all part of that sort of memory haze.  I know objectively that I should miss them, miss the friends I had, the people I cared about, heck even Billy James.  But I just don't.
     
         I'm Elle, I'm a vampire.  Every now and then I need to drink a few ounces of blood to keep me going.  I don't have to kill to feed, and I've always been smart enough to have listened to the man that made me what I am and never went without.  I've heard the stories of what happens if you don't feed, and if you make yourself an issue over killing a human – or a bunch of humans,