It was a different time for everyone, but especially for our kind. We lived in the shadows, slept in filthy graves, glamored to feed and many of us killed indiscriminately. I was living in Ireland and had recently released Pam to live elsewhere. I knew that she was bored with me and frankly, I was bored as well. I initially used Charlaine as a simple meal and glamored her and sent her home, but there was something about her that I sensed was different. She was beautiful, of course, and had that most unusual name. I almost always selected beautiful women to feed from. I found myself back a second night, and this time I also fucked her, taking her virginity. She was more than willing of course, but for me it was still only a feed and a fuck. That sounds crass, I know, but that's the truth. I found pleasure in her and used her accordingly. That's what I am.

I wandered the countryside, but kept finding my way back to Charlaine's village and continued to feed from her and fuck her when I wanted to. But then something else happened. Every night after I had had my way with her, but before I glamored her, she would tell me stories. I found her to be both beautiful and fascinating. And in the stolen moments we shared before she wandered off with an impaired memory, she seemed to be actually falling in love with me. It was unusual at that time for vampires to take on human companions or even to stay in the same place for any great period of time. But I found myself staying near Charlaine and I fell in love with her as well.

Eventually, I stopped glamoring her and grew to trust her discretion. I was staying in an abandoned and decaying castle near her village and she would often come and stay there with me. When she would return home after one of those stays, I would follow her and glamour her parents so that they wouldn't realize that she had even been missing. This went on for years until it became apparent that she was attracting human suitors and would be expected to marry. With her consent, I spilled her blood in the family's stable and staged a scene in which they would assume that she had been killed or taken. Then I glamored them with the story we had concocted together, and Charlaine agreed to live with me in our castle.

Every night, I would fly into the village to get her food, and naturally, she provided me with my own sustenance. She stayed up with me most of the night weaving her stories for our amusement, and then I persuaded her to write them down. She was such a brilliant storyteller. In those days it was extremely unusual for women to be published authors, and so we concocted a male pseudonym and life story and submitted Charlaine's stories to be published. I would fly into the cities to retrieve the periodicals to show her how well received her books were, and we would celebrate her secret success in our castle together.

Charlaine and I lived together for a short forty two years, but they were happy years for me. I wanted to turn her, naturally, but she asked that I not, and I respected her wishes. I also never bonded with her. She valued her human life and although she loved me, she was also repulsed by my nature and wanted no part of it for herself. She fell ill one night, and of course wouldn't take my blood. I wanted to fly her to see a doctor, but she refused, making light of her illness. When I went to ground before dawn, I was very worried. Then when I woke and found her dead in our bed, I wept for days on end. It had been so many centuries since I'd felt such a loss, I had forgotten how agonizing grieving for a loved one could be.

I returned to my monstrous ways after the loss of Charlaine, feeding and fucking and killing without remorse. I swore that I would never love another human again. And it was many many years before I did. It wasn't until I was cursed by a witch and rescued by a brave telepath on a cold night in January that I found love again. Had I not lost my memory, I know that I would not have allowed myself to fall for Sookie. I hate Hallow, but am actually grateful for her curse because it led to my love for Sookie and a joy that I have missed in my ridiculously long and tortured life.

Now I spend my nights before dawn watching Sookie sleep and leaving her silly and funny notes on her mirror. I know that I will suffer her death one day just as I suffered the death of Charlaine, but I see now that living a full and joyful life no matter how brief is worth all the pain of the loss. I will tell Sookie about Charlaine someday. I hope she isn't hurt by the fact that I have loved before, but I want her to know that I respected Charlaine's wishes and watched her die just as I am prepared to do for Sookie. Sookie doesn't realize it, but she knows Charlaine's work. One night I woke to find her asleep in the hammock holding one of Charlaine's books in her hand. I couldn't help but smile to myself as I thought of a night a long time ago in a castle in Ireland when Charlaine and I thought of her new name together: Bram Stoker.