Who the fuck was that guy? I had a terrible sense of Déjà vu—It feels like I know every part of him. The dreams, the incessant dreams come flooding back—all at once. He reminds me of the man that has haunted my sleep every night for the past three years. It’s always the same dream—I’ve never really gotten to see his full face, only his profile but he is so unforgettable, like the man tonight. I shake my head. “Get out of your head, Andie, it’s a scary fucking place.” I mutter to myself. A surly throat clears somewhere in front of me and makes me whip my head up from the noisy cappuccino machine. “Uh, sometime today, Cleopatra.” She snaps. It was most certainly not the first time someone had made that comment. Hell, even I could see the similarities—jet-black hair, natural black lined eyes and deep olive skin. I’d heard it more times than I cared to admit.
What do You think about The Last Vampyre Prophecy?
