*Fanfiction in Progress*

• Noi due senza un domani [♣]
• Il Figlio delle Tenebre [♣]
• Wrath of Heaven [♣]
• Sinful Mistake [♣]
• Smell of Smoke, Kiss to the Tobacco [♣]
• Heart Burst Into Fire [♣]

*Fanfiction Concluded*

• Il Bacio del Vampiro[♣]
• Vampire's Story - Preview [♣]
• ≈ Sinner's Night [Mistake of a Life]
• ≈ Crimson Darkness [Damnation]
• ≈ Dirty Life, Dirty Darkness [Vampire's Awakening]
• ≈ Damned Soul [Fake Resurrection]
• Teardrop on the Fire [♣]
• Surely for all Eternity[♣]
• Equivoci d'Amore [♣]

≈ Prima Classificata: Lovely Cool Fake
Contest for the Chocolate indetto da RoyXEd4ever
≈ Prima Classificata: The Silent Force
Contest for the Rain indetto da RoyXEd4ever
≈ Prima Classificata: Another Sin
3Some Party indetto da Kimbly_Eden
≈ Seconda Classificata: Sunset to Munich [And your memories come with me]
Contest for the Images indetto da RoyXEd4ever
≈ Terza Classificata:Beata Innocenza [Storia Fuori Serie]
Contest Flash Contest indetto da Addison89
≈ Terza Classificata: Strange Love Story (Il nostro inizio)
Contest Flash Contest indetto da Addison89
≈ Terza Classificata: "Palpito d'Ira"
Contest Speciale 25 Aprile indetto da hotaru
≈ Quarta Classificata: Bitter Sweet Moment
Contest Waitin' for the Dawn indetto da Setsuka e Ale2
≈ Quarta Classificata: Innocent Sorrow
Contest Yaoi is everywhere! indetto da AintAfraidToDie
≈ Quarta Classificata "Crimson Essence/Fake Freedom/Devil's Insanity"
Contest Una parola per iniziare indetto da Pagliaccio di Dio e Ballerina classica
≈ Quarta Classificata "Dirty Little Secret"
Contest Male Pregnacy indetto da Lyan e valutato da valerya90
≈ Quinta Classificata: Na doir sìon dhomh, mo brèagha aingeal
Contest In the world of vampires indetto da Marie Cullen
≈ Sesta Classificata con Premio Stile: Oidhche Fhuar [A Cold Night]
Contest Dal Film alla Storia indetto da DarkRose89
≈ Sesta Classificata "Rosa Canina"
Contest A rose, a contest, a story! indetto da RoyXEd4ever


_ More Contest _

≈ "Zankyou, Kieru Made [Until Reverberation Died Away]"
Partecipante al Contest .: Da una Canzone :. indetto da marghepepe
≈ "Labhair dorchadais aingeal ris [Un oscuro angelo parlò a lui]"
Partecipante al Contest Dalla Frase alla Storia indetto da Selhin e Seiko

And she had been awakened, she had risen.
That music of yours could wake the dead. I'd done it again.
Oh, if only I could keep my eyes open, could only think, if the sun wasn't rising.
She had been there in San Francisco, she had been that close to us, burning our enemies.
Alien, utterly foreign, yes.
But not uncivilized, no, not savage.
She was not that.
She was only just reawakened, my
goddess, risen like a magnificent butterfly from its cocoon.
And what was the world to her?
How had she come to us? What was the state of her mind?
Danger to all of us. No. I don't
believe it! She had slain our enemies.
She had come to us.
But I couldn't fight the drowsiness and heaviness any longer.
Pure sensation was driving out
all wonder and excitement.
My body grew limp and helplessly still against the earth.
And then I felt a hand suddenly close on mine.
Cold as marble it was, and just about that strong.
My eyes snapped open in the darkness.
The hand tightened its grip. A great mass of silken
hair brushed my face.
A cold arm moved across my chest.
Oh, please, my darling, my beautiful one, please!
I wanted to say.
But my eyes were closing!
My lips wouldn't move.
I was losing consciousness.
The sun had risen above.

«We go into the fire or we go into legend» said a teller of the tale.
Then came accounts of chaos in Rome, of dozens of leaders who put on the black hood and
the black robes to preside over the coven. And then it seemed there were none.
Since the year 1700 there had been no word anymore from Italy. For half a century Armand
had not been able to trust to his passion or that of the others around him to create the frenzy
of the true Sabbat. And he had dreamed of his old Master, Marius, in those rich robes of red
velvet, and seen the palazzo full of vibrant paintings, and he had been afraid.
Then another had come.
His children rushed down into the cellars beneath les Innocents to describe to him this new
vampire, who wore a furlined cloak of red velvet and could profane the churches and strike
down those who wore crosses and walk in the places of light. Red velvet. It was mere
coincidence, and yet it maddened him and seemed an insult to him, a gratuitous pain that his
soul couldn't bear.
And then the woman had been made, the woman with the hair of a lion and the name of an
angel, beautiful and powerful as her son.
And he had come up the stairway out of the catacomb, leading the band against us, as the
hooded ones had come to destroy him and his Master in Venice centuries before.
And it had failed.
He stood dressed in these strange lace and brocade garments. He carried coins in his
pockets. His mind swam with images from the thousands of books he had read. And he felt
himself pierced with all he had witnessed in the places of light in the great city called Paris,
and it was as if he could hear his old Master whispering in his ear:

...But a millennium of nights will be yours to see light as no mortal has ever seen it, to snatch from the distant stars as if you were Prometheus an endless illumination in which to understand all things...