I’ve finally gotten my hands on the latest installment of Anne Rice’s Vampire chronicles: Prince Lestat. And was all ready to be transported back to my 18 – 24 year old self, you see that was when I was introduced to Ms Rice and here exquisite vampires. I fell in love with the story, the poetry, the very notions set forth by these sensual creatures.
So after watching my dear heart, read this book for over a week, taunting me with tidbits and reminiscing about the Lestat he knew, and the man/vampire Lestat has become, I’m all stoked to dive in.
66 pages in and already I’m back where I was, I’m 18 – 24 again, looking at this world this woman has built in the labyrinth of her mind, and superimposing it on my own, and falling into it, and being surrounded by it, enraptured in it. Savoring each and every word, like it was the finest Pinot Noir.
I’m happy, and intrigues, and sad, and angry and amused and….. but mostly happy all at once.