As a rule, my sleep is typically deep and dreamless, or at least it has been for the past year or more, and I've found that to be my preference. That preference has everything to do with the numerous nights since I'd first moved to Los Angeles that I'd woken up suddenly, heart pounding like a jackhammer, cold sweat on my face and the lingering
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I turned round, almost startled by the sound of his voice, having not heard him at all approaching. A split second after that thought came the admonishment from the back of my mind that of course I couldn't hear him, given his being a vampire and all ( ... )
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