Rupert in UK

I can feel his breath on my neck - what does he want? Maybe he's only come over to help with the Tory Party campaign, their policies are possibly closest to those we held dear in Sanguinaria. We too believed in the people taking over the institutions and running them for themselves - schools, hospitals, and so on were entirely run and funded by the local community - why should we have encouraged them to become dependent on handouts? We also believed in regular referenda (please note that vampires are literate beings and know how to give plurals of latin neuter nouns. Rupert, on the other hand, is far from neuter, though vampires do it differently from ordinary men). Of course referenda had to be screened by us - any which were aimed at ridding the world of vampires were at once put on the fire, and the authors received a visit that night, which well convinced them of the stupidity of such referenda. Do you know, I'm getting a little tired of that word? But I do believe that Cameron's views would be close to our own, and as for vampires, who needs them in this world when we have bankers?
This is perhaps why Rupert has arrived here, to take over a consultancy post in a bank? It will do them no good. Rupert never did no-one any good. Not even me. But the fever of intoxication his nearness induces in me - oh, what is this lure of the no-gooder? The wild gleam in the eye, the intense, heavy breathing, the look that tells a poor female so clearly that he wants to use her and drop her, and the way she then wants, oh, so passionately, to be used, the bliss of being used and knowing it's not forever.
But then, who would want to stay with a no-good like Rupert forever?
None of this explains why he's pursued me here. I like the banking theory best, though. Time will tell - or maybe - who knows, he's reading this blog? I'm sure he will quickly learn how to use a computer.

Rupert is here

I heard someone in the drive, and went to peer from behind the dining-room curtain. It was Rupert, dressed in a T-shirt and low-slung jeans, delivering Tory party election leaflets. I saw his sharp canine just show, digging into his lower lip for a moment. Rupert, here, in my world! I'm not sure what I feel about this.

Ah, yes. John Lewis delivered – what was it? Something necessary and not very exciting. (The next delivery will be of coat-hangers, I have finally decided that it’s not very chic to keep my best clothes on rather run-down plastic-coated wire hangers that we got from the dry cleaner in the early ‘80s in Hong Kong – not chic, because they ruin my clothes).

So, where did I finish last time. Ah. I found myself sailing away on bat-wings of rapture and then –

There was a hammering at the windows of the castle. I sprang up, drooling with frustration, ran to see what was wrong. Albert and Liza were already there. It was daylight, we thought, who should be calling at this hour but some Mob who had somehow managed to fly up – had they hired a helicopter to invade the sacred technology-free spaces of Sanguinarian air?

No, there was a sudden eclipse, plunging the country into the deepest darkness; and in it had appeared Rupert, the captain of vampire guard who was holding Bloodlouse in the tower twenty miles away. He had come to tell me that Bloodlouse had escaped into the brief night of the eclipse. I knew my spouse was doomed. This was no great loss, since Rudolf was so much preferable, so I invited Rupert in. There was a glint in the captain’s bloodshot eye, a glint of wickedness, that lit in me a spark of deepest red fire – always I had been attracted to the trustworthy and the tender, but now, alas, I was about to be ravished by the evil and unreliable. I knew, just from the look on his face, that he would betray me, just as I was about to betray the lovely Rudolf – but oh, the time in between –

(the manuscript is broken off at this point, singed and irregular at the edges)