Be my Valentine by Niall Teasdale

By Niall Teasdale

It’s Valentine’s Day and the folks of recent York urban, alive and undead, are celebrating romantic love and overpriced roses, yet for one younger lady the night is to finish in demise instead of romance.

The Valentine Killer made his identify in l. a., yet now he has come to Dione’s urban and she or he is set to forestall him this time. Dione and Mike needs to pass the continent looking for info, and shortly notice that they're no longer the single organization looking for the assassin. because the our bodies pile up and a path of destruction going again greater than a decade is exposed, anyone appears to be like making an attempt very not easy to sluggish the research down and unrest one of the vampires rises. Amid betrayal from a such a lot unforeseen resource, Dione and Mike needs to struggle to maintain the key of the life of vampires, in addition to saving a pal and bringing a killer to justice.

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After the operation a further two to three weeks in the hospital will probably be necessary; we mention this in order to assist you in planning your domestic and working life accordingly. Yours faithfully, Marike Fischer, Appointments Secretary, Gemejnte Hospitaal, Maardam Oh, hell! he thought. Then he checked the data at the bottom of the page, dialed the number and waited. A young girl’s voice answered. Twenty-five at most, he decided. Like his own daughter, more or less. 25 “I suppose I’d better turn up then,” he said.

She set off early the next morning. She had woken up at half past five, another of those inevitable curses that old age brings with it. Got up, had breakfast and driven the car out of the garage before seven. There was not much traffic; once she had wriggled her way out of town and reached the hills, she was more or less alone on the road. It was a lovely morning, with a thin layer of mist that slowly dispersed as the sun broke through. She stopped at the picturesque inn between Geerlach and Würpatz and drank a cup of coffee.

He stood for a few seconds with the letter in his hand. the return Then he tore it into four pieces and threw it into the wastepaper basket. Less than an hour later he had eaten two bratwurst sausages with potato salad on his balcony. Drunk a glass of dark beer with it and started to wonder if he ought to go to the corner shop and buy a pack of cigarettes. He had run out of toothpicks and it was a pleasant evening. I’m going to die, in any case, he thought. He heard the clock striking six in Keymer.

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