Absence of reflection didnt bother her. She knew well enough how she looked like - an English rose in full bloom (thirty three to be precise, with five years of them as Jonathans fiancée), her rusty hair waved freely, and her cheeks had rich red tint which Van Helsing had watched so suspiciously.

Undead and loving it

Every time I sit down to write something, it ends up being shorter than I intend.