In 2003, I was a member of a forum in America called The Nook.
It was quite a social place at a time when social networking was just beginning.
There, I met a librarian from Watford.
She told me her name was Freya and wouldn't give her real name even in private messages, of which, over time, there were a great many.
Toward the end of our interaction, I was beginning to get excited at the prospect of some local weekend action, when lo and behold, she invited me down to Watford.
Then she told me what she did at weekends.
Along with a posse of like minded others, she spent her nights dressing up as a vampire, sleeping in coffins and...
...drinking the blood of willing donors and/or supplies stolen from Watford General.
She was very candid about it. And she thought I would enjoy it and she wanted my company.
And for my part, while fascinated, I declined the offer. Naturally, our friendship petered out.
As my life collapsed like a rack of dominos in the next eight years, I forgot this story, but when I encountered Emma Edwards and her bloody tome"Sanguinary", it came back to haunt me like a legion of demons breaking down my door for a quick word.
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