She found a clean sweatshirt and soft pajama pants, glad to trade the wet for the dry. ‘So are you. Good-bye, aunt. ‘I don’t know that I dare. Set on unravelling her secrets, Gerald pursues every possible clue—much to the indignation of Mademoiselle. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. There was a gulf of eight years between her and the youngest of her brace of sisters—an impassable gulf inhabited chaotically by two noisy brothers. Wood, popping her head through the window. .
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