There was no school to interrupt my daytime sleep, no Trevor Mitchell to be a thorn in my side, and no Dullsville High students to ridicule my dark attire. During that time, we began to experience the vampire life without distractions. Several weeks had passed since Alexander and I had returned from our adventure in Hipsterville, and though Alexander hadn’t bitten me, he did make this mortal feel a part of the Underworld. So the letter would go unnoticed for several hours as I was stolen away in Alexander’s attic room, pressed against my vampire boyfriend’s deathly pale, but full of life, lips. Or perhaps he’d flown over the menacing fence in the form of a bat.īy nightfall, the Mansion’s mailbox was usually as hollow as an empty coffin, sitting lonely at the bottom of Benson Hill, at the end of a long and windy driveway. He may have approached the Sterlings’ haunted-looking house in a hearse. I imagined the deliverer was an enigmatic figure masked in a centuries-old black hooded cloak, slipping undetected through the darkness past the Mansion’s wrought-iron gate.
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