Saturday mornings and afternoons…

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Saturday morning taste like scrambled eggs with tomatoes and red onions. It crunches deliciously in your mouth and brings a smile full of content to your lips. Whole house smells like family breakfast. Whole house smells like love.

Saturday afternoons are bright and dim at the same time. The mood is set together with the dawning sun. The sounds surrounding the house all echo nature. Peace fills every minute of this day. Tranquility is almost palpable.

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A long time ago…

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A long time ago, before I had breasts, sense and sensibility, I dreamed I would go to a fantasy land and become fairy princess. I never imagined life as a dire space filled with hurt and ugliness. Reality struck few times, even though I still fight for rainbows and unicorns. That’s what keeps me going. Finding tiny colour specs in mountains of mud.

Petals strewn on the floor…

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I opened the door to our apartment and what did I see first? Flowers, flower petals to be precise. Roses. Strewn on the floor. Seriously? Rose petals on the floor? Can he be any more cliche? What next, one knee on the floor and shining diamond in his hand?

Diamond… Oh no! I hope he is not trying to be the idiot, hopelessly in love fool and try to propose to me tonight… Nah, can’t be. Or can it?

The main character in the last book…

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A historians daughter. Maybe a historian herself.

She is a shy girl, innocent and pure.

She devoted her life to books and knowledge. And her father, a sole parent, a center of the universe for her.

She feels lost when he suddenly abandons. However determined, the girl decides to embark on a journey to salvage her relationship with father and to discover the true meaning behind the life of vampires and count Dracula…

Down a long, dark hallway…

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The path seems soft, intangible even. Darkness sticks to my face as I walk down the empty hallway.

The road seems endless, corrosive, barren and dead. It clamps down on my legs, slowing me down, impeding my moves.

I cannot go back nor can I move forward quickly enough. I stumble on this road down the abyss of darkness. I yearn for sun.

There is no retribution.

Only the empty pit of his heart.

Silent assassin…

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She crouches stealthily in silence of rose bushes. She is lurking behind every corner, crane and niche of the vast, ancient manor.

She is sticky with cold sweat, preparing to lurch at you. She moves swiftly and sweeps everything in her way.

She plays the game and always wins.

No stake is too high for her. She is trained and her aim never miss.

You won’t see her coming. The disease of the 21st century.