Good morning Six Sentence Sunday. It’s wet and foggy in DC on this early Sunday morning, but the weather is very much like it is all the time in my post-apocalyptic tale of addiction and love, heroism and lies, sex and blood, beter known as VLC. Here the heroine is struggling with one of her addictions.

The sight of vampires bent over exposed throats, fangs embedded in human flesh, eyes shining from the ecstasy of the bite made her tremble from the ferocity of her desire. She wanted to feed, not just taste a smidgen of blood, but devour a throat, bleed a body dry.

She pushed back from the bannister and barreled toward the staircase. She had to get downstairs. Had to dance, swallow a few shots of whiskey, get a fucking grip or she’d kill every human being in the nightclub.

Not a smart move for a vampire detective on probation.

That’s it for this week. Now go visit more Six Sentence Sunday entries. It’s a movement!