Thirst Book Vampire Novels & Stories

I wonder. My throat burns with an insatiable thirst as the hunger for blood claws at my throat. It’s a persistent itch in need of satisfaction. But I can't tear myself away from the mysterious wolf. My mind races at a million miles an hour with so many questions. My undead heart pounds against my chest, desperate to escape my body. Focus, Salvatore, I scold myself, in an attempt to gain control of myself. Don’t let curiosity beat you. I struggle to silence my inner turmoil. The more I try to suppress it, the stronger it gets. My thirst for blood demands satisfaction, threatening to overpower me and cloud my judgment. A part of me knows that I won’t win against the bloodlust. Giving in to my

I don't know what kind of aphrodisiacs Lucifer used in the arrows, but my vampiric side was taking over me. " I-I'm thirsty..." I murmured, grabbing my neck in suffocation. My bloodthirst made me feel insanely thirsty for blood. Suddenly my nostrils flared when the sweet smell of Karlo's invaded my senses. I opened the passenger seat's door and glared hungrily at Karlo's blood covered body. " I-I'm thirsty... I want to drink his blood to quench my thirst," I hissed. " Miss Eva...?" Karlo's sudden voice reverberated in my head and I regained my consciousness and realised what the heck I was about to do. I can't believe I was thinking of devouring Karlo.

Bastian stayed on that cold floor until dawn. It was the first time in centuries he had let himself look this pathetic. Before, no matter how late he got back to the estate, there was always warm blood and someone waiting for him. Now, the massive manor was totally empty. At the darkest hour of the night, Bastian shot up and stormed into his secret chamber. He flipped through ancient, forbidden vampire grimoires, looking for a tracking spell. If Hanson said she was in Europe, he’d flip all of Europe upside down.

His large, light brown eyes opened wide, and as she watched him, they changed color to a light green. Caitlin sat up straighter, and saw that her glass of red wine was still full. She took a sip, and it warmed her. She hadn’t eaten in a while, and went right to her head. She saw the other plastic glass sitting there, and she remembered her manners. “Can I pour you some?” she asked, then added, nervously, “that is, I mean, I don’t know if you drink—” He laughed. “Yes, vampires drink wine, too,” he said with a smile, and came over and held the glass while she poured.

No one would take her away from him if he could help it. He could feel her need for him to couple with her and there was nothing more he wanted to do right now. She looked so lovely within his hands, submitting to him like this. Panting, he reluctantly pulled his shaft from between her swollen lips. George lifted her onto the bed and lay between her naked, creamy thighs. He couldn’t resist scoring her inner thighs with his fangs. His bite on her throat warned off any other interested vampires, but the taste of her life’s blood had changed, and he could no longer get enough of it.

I called out softly, turning around. Sure enough, the Book was floating in the air a few inches away. I beckoned at it, my frustration at it completely forgotten. It floated towards me, and landed on the table right at my front. “What’s going on? What's happening to the Vampires?” I questioned it, hoping that I'd find answers. It flipped its pages, and finally stopped. I squinted my eyes to read out the characters. ‘Fēáli ét gûiq cæli,’ were the characters written.

Despite the strangeness of the situation, Melia found herself finding his astonishment rather amusing. "Vampire..." he murmured, his gaze shifting towards Melia. "Perfect!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in a rare moment of elation. "It explains everything. It explains why you're still here, alive. Why... Or maybe... How do you become a vampire?" he asked abruptly, his curiosity getting the best of him. Melia arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "I'm not going to tell you that," she replied firmly, her voice as cool as a winter breeze.

His words are ice-cold, and I feel them like a veiled accusation. “Are you accusing me? Do you think I’m the one drinking more than my share? Draining the reserves?” I set the paper down slowly. To deplete the stockpile, a vampire would have to consume liters upon liters every day. Anyone capable of that would be a dangerous blood-crazed monster to the entire community. “We’re alone. I’m not accusing you of anything. But given your past punishments for excessive thirst, perhaps…” I stand abruptly, tossing the papers onto the table. Accused again.

And find out if there was any way to fix it. As she drove, Caitlin thought again of the rare books she had found in her library. Most of all, she that of that one rare volume, and its torn page. She thought of its ancient ceremony, the one in Latin, with its cure for vampirism. She wondered again if it was real. Was that just passed down from folklore? An old wives’ tale?

"Afraid of myself after I thirst for sparkling blood... Afraid I will grow to be every other person. If the 'thirst' can't be stopped, perhaps I may assault humans on sight without thinking... This feeling could be very scary." The periodic thirst for blood—A fundamental intuition that no vampire may want to escape. The c programming language among bouts of such thirst varies vastly among individuals, however, that they'd a not unusual place point—whilst the thirst for blood hits a max, they lose their rationality and degenerate into mere beasts. "So... Sometimes I'm afraid. Thinking if I cannot suck blood for lengthy durations of time, what may happen. Will I emerge as a unique person, emer