May I introduce Silas Hart, my 50-something (in looks only, that is) vampire whose roots were formed at the same time our country’s were. Here, he’s reminiscing about the old days–
I remember the clientele of my first pub back in the day; all we offered then was ale and whiskey. I had a serving girl to work the tables and I handled the bar. My wife had been weakened by childbirth, and she had died of congenital heart failure ten years before. Our only child had moved to England in the aftermath of his grief, taking his new wife with him and leaving me quite alone with my own sorrow. I remember the date perfectly, as would most of the history professors today. July 8, 1776. The day the Liberty Bell rang, announcing independence.
The day I was turned.
Read more Snippets here: